#'you may not like how he's treated you but at least he's taken care of you!!!!'

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan arena beasts/fighters + handler reader. Reader is an average human working at a zoo/shelters abducted and thrown into a life of caring for a galactic tyrant's playthings due to their experience with animals. Not an idea choice for the job, but with everyone who's had the job before being maimed, killed, or worse they were running out of options. Reader does the best with what they're given. They find solitude with the other captives to an extent and some of the more feral creatures remind them of stray cats and dogs they knew back home. They treat those who allow as those same poor creatures out of habit and to cope with their new life. Others are so aggressive they have to be blindfold and sedated to even get close. Reader still tries to comfort them despite the many scratches and bites they receive

A little mix up happens where a warrior meant to fight the big bad of the area had already been slain by the beast. With no alternative, reader gets sent out instead as sacrifice to appease the blood hungry masses. They cower in the corner as the beast's mask is removed, praying their battered body at least gets shipped home so they have a proper burial and their family has some clue to what happened to them. They cast their small dagger away still unable to defend themselves against what they only see as a frightened animal protecting its own skin. The beast lifts them off the ground like a ragdoll holding them high for the crowd to see as its fangs draw from its scarred lips - breaking the band around its wrist that would seal reader's victory.

The beast ties the rope around reader's neck as the announcer declares them victor by default. The crowd boos, but as the beast snaps the neck of one of the guards and throws the limb body into the arena their demands are met. Reader quakes from the sheer disbelief of the whole ordeal, and still being trapped in the beast's arms as it coos. It takes over a dozen guards to get them to separate the two. They try again with another beast reader has care for and the same thing happens. Watching the live footage closely it's clear to experts the skilled fighters allow themselves to get injured to be coddled and tended to by reader. When rations are given they try to feed reader a share of their meals. The number of casualties skyrocket when reader's taken away or new caretakers are introduced. The beasts demand their head pats and ear scratches for their winnings and they want it from one source alone.

-

The emperor is quite amused by this revelation. It perfectly masks his paranoia in the case of his pets rising against him for whatever reason and choosing the earthling as their new overlord which few have spoken of in whispers. He's torn between killing them to null his fears and befriending them to puppeteer his pets craftfully from the shadows. He decides on the latter since getting rid of them would only anger his pets. That and it would be so easy to trick the human with his charms. Few can resist the words and body of a king, after all.

"Y/n, darling, it's so good to see you! So glad you could make it. How have things been, hm?"

"I'd like to go home, please."

"Hahaha! Oh, you're so cute with your little jokes! You may enjoy your meal in due time, but I have a favor to ask of you from a friend to a king. In the case of I don't know - my pets slaughtering my entire legion and storming my castle walls to behead me and crown you ruler - would you pretty please ask them to - not do that?"

"That....sounds like it would be out of my hands."

"Right. Changing subject, you are aware I have been topless this whole conversation and my bed is right behind me. Why haven't you attempted to have your way with me by now? Not saying you could - but you can always try."

The emperor upgrades their room to one right next to his, but they hardly sleep there favoring their time caring for the others and because they'd rather stay there than see him in a state of undress on their mattress. The emperor mimics the cooing that gets wounded beasts extra smothering from their handler, but reader mostly ignores him. He grows jealous seeing them fast asleep in a cell kept warm by the body heat of the battle scarred creatures around them. He's been scarred by attempted assassinations in the past - why doesn't he get cuddles too? Combats this jealously by making a royal decree that reader has to sit with him during every battle and on his lap if they wish to stay out of his sight afterwards. Requests for reader's fredom and hand in marriage and when a champion is chosen are banned almost immediately.

#yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere emperor #yandere harem

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man? - part two

a/n: I know John isn’t American but I kept picturing him as Joe from SIX and honety Gibs from NCIS and I couldn’t stop myself. I sincerely apologize that this John is American-grumpy-hot-military-older man coded (not really). Also I know it took a month and I’m so sorry 🙈 I got so busy at work but it’s here! Enjoy!!

Warnings: smutty smut smut, phone sex

non-mcu masterlist

part one

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @calicocat45 @whos-fran @vonev @yyiikes

The situation at hand is tricky to say the least. Waiting around and trying to be careful of everyone’s feelings will push you away. On the other hand, he’s wanted to show you the love that you deserve and now is his chance.

Fuck Simon.

Fuck him for treating you like a safety net and like you’re replaceable. Fuck him for letting you shoulder the burden of your relationship and expecting you to always be at his beck and call. Fuck him for lying to you instead of having the balls to just be honest about why he wanted to break up. Fuck Simon Riley for saying that you could find a better man and expecting you to not listen to him for once.

“I want a lot of things,” he starts and takes a moment to choose his words, “I might be a gentleman but I’m a selfish man. I won’t take what’s not offered but you’d be hell bent to find me sharing my life with others. If you say that it’s over and mean it, well then love, I’ll be the most selfish man you’ve ever met when it comes to you. Im not some young lad anymore; I’m settled in my life and now that things are stable I want someone to share it with. I’ll follow your lead when it comes to how we share it but just know that I don’t want something casual or even friendship.”

You’re still resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to his every word as hope begins to fill your eyes. It’s the last sentence he whispers as he gazes down at you that causes your breath to hitch;

“I’ll love you until my lungs give out.”

And this man Delivers. The capital d is not a typo. John Price understands that you’re an independent person and he respects that. That’s not to say that he doesn’t spoil the absolute shit out of you and ensures that you are happy in every facet of your life imaginable.

The dogs are being wild today and overwhelming you? As soon as he gets home, he’s taking them out on a walk and giving you instructions to go have yourself a nice hot bath. Dinner is already taken care of so no need to worry about that. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the quiet.

He’s been on deployment for a couple weeks and the loneliness is starting to creep in? You will be getting at least two check in texts a day and a call or FaceTime if he can before you go to bed. You should also expect some sort of care package to be on your doorstep weekly. This could be anything from flowers to your whole ass Amazon cart, all you need to do is say you miss him and he’s got you covered.

Things have been a little tense between the two of you? Well get ready because you’re going to be doing a check in that night where the two of you talk about whatever is going on. If it’s something small like you’re both stressed from work and a weekend getaway is needed, he’s already got that planned. If it’s something that needs more work, he’s ready to dive right into it and figure it out.

Still true to his internal word, nothing physical happens between you two at first. He wanted desperately to kiss you when he told you he would love you until his last breath but he didn’t. Disgusted by the enormity of his craving for you, John vowed to wait until you asked for his physical affection. Of course this meant he wouldn’t give into any of your advances until you told what you wanted.

After that night, you began the long and arduous process of breaking down John’s resolve. While it may have been unspoken, you knew what he wanted but you weren’t going to give into him so quickly. It started with closing the distance between you two. Instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you’d lay your feet in his lap or move just close enough to trail your fingers over the back of his hand. Only would you move to sit beside him if he slung his thick arm over the couch’s back and beckoned you closer. Then you would take every opportunity possible to cuddle into his side and slyly skirt your hands across the waistband of his sweats when you wrapped your arms around him. If you were in the kitchen together, you were always just out of his grasp. His fingers could grasp at the back of your shirt but never fully grab you. You’d swiftly slip around him if he moved behind you but not before brushing your hands over him in some way.

Eventually you grew bolder and began to shower with the door propped open. You’d said it was so the dogs could still see you but John isn’t stupid. He knew that you wanted him to catch a glimpse of your body through the foggy glass doors. But here’s the thing; he’s not Simon. Simon would’ve joined you and fucked you on that glass door like your life depended on it but not a captain price.

No no no. John Price is going to make you say those three little words, ‘I want you’, before he touches you even if it means leaving on for a mission without so much as a chaste peck on the lips. No amount of sly looks and sneaky touches is going to convince this man to give into you.

He starts beating you at your own game though. his bedroom door is suddenly always cracked open making it so that you can hear every rumbling moan and gasp of your name when he fists his cock at night. You no longer feel the waistband of his underwear when you wrap your arms around his am waist during your cuddles. Instead your fingers find the thick trail of hair that disappears under his sweatpants. Speaking of which, John knows about grey sweat pants and he exploits that turn on every chance he gets. Soon it goes from just wearing them low on his hips to forgoing boxers (as mentioned above) and sometimes he even ‘forgets’ his shirt. The memory of his thick bare chest on display alone is enough to make you clench your legs together.

When he finally does have to leave for work, he presses a light kiss to your temple and tells you to be careful. It goes without saying but John makes your promise anyways. Eases his old heart as he likes to say. If only he would go easy on yours…

Nearly every photo, FaceTime, what have you, this man is bare chested with lidded eyes and a knowing smirk on his face. He knows that you’re frustrated with the way things have played out; namely his departure with no memorable moments. He’s already become an expert in you, knowing what your body langue means, what your blushes mean, and most importantly, what your words truly mean.

Probably about a month in to this mission is when it comes to a climax. Your hands were doing nothing to ease the ache between your legs and your toys were making it worse. It was as if your body knew that it was you instead John rubbing small circles into your clit late at night. You’d tried nearly everything you could think of aside from finding someone in a pub and telling the older captain about your dilemma. While you two weren’t anything more than roommates with feelings at this point, it still felt wrong to find someone else to help you out. With only one person that your body wanted and nothing you could do about it, you settled for being sexually frustrated and irritable.

John is finally able to get some alone time to call you and actually talk to you. Settled into some poor excuse for a cot, he makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to pick up. It makes maybe a few rings before your tight voice comes through with a short ‘hello?’

He wants to chuckle and fails to suppress it, “Well hello to you too, love.”

Immediately you sigh when you recognize his voice, “oh John it’s you. How are you?”

“Been better. What’s been going on with you?”

You let out another deep sigh, pausing to answer as you contemplate what to tell him.

“What is it, love? Something bothering you?”

“I…I’m just….im just irritable,” you attempt to pass off as the full truth but John knows you better than that.

“Irritable you say?”

You can hear him shuffle around on his end and it causes your legs to cross to even think about him. God it’s beyond annoying to be this turned on over just hearing him move around, let alone hear his voice right now.

“I’d say a relaxing day is in order,” he teases with a low pitched sultry tone, “find some relief in a massage maybe.”

Relief.

The word feels hot as it washes over your brain and invokes images that would make a nun curse under her breath.

You snort at his suggestion. In that small noise, he finds all the answers he needed; you’re about to break and murmur those three sweet words.

“No appeal to that, love?” He asks and you can just hear the smirk he’s wearing. “A massage isn’t the relief you’re looking for though is it? You need a different type of relief, isn’t that right love?”

That bastard.

You hear him shuffle again and you swear to god you hear the sound of a belt coming undone.

“Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”

If you weren’t needy before, you must certainly are now. You feel pathetic, a bitch in heat with the way your body starts to react to his simple words. Practically mumbling you attempt to tell him to fuck off but it doesn’t sting as much as you’d hoped. John laughs off your feeble attempt at hiding the true reason you’re in a mood.

Instead of adding flame to fire, he stays quiet.

It takes 40 agonizing seconds of silence for you to groan his name out of frustration. The captain only hums his acknowledgment that you spoke.

Phone sex isn’t new to you by any means however there’s something about this time that causes you to falter. There’s something about the way he initiated it but is allowing you to lead where it goes. There’s something about the way he knew what you needed within seconds. There’s something about the way your body seems to know that it craves his without ever touching.

“Yes,” you mumble while your cheeks burn and your body sings at the thought of getting what it truly desires.

John chuckles under his breath and the sardonic sounds causes your eyes to squeeze shut.

“Be a good girl for me and slip your hand into your panties.”

Your hearing dulls to a muffled tone as your hand follows his instructions. Barely does your ears register the sound of skin on skin, a slick hand taunting an impossibly hard cock. Your name comes out as a groan when you tell him to continue.

“Fuuckkk, love. Tell me are ya wet?”

“S…soaked.” You sigh as you roll your clit with your fingertips.

He lets out a string of curses as his hips buck up into his hand and his cock throbs from his slow pace.

“I want you to keep rubbing your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers,” the captain orders you, “and dont try to hide any of those pretty sounds.”

You mumble a weak ‘okay’ as you work your clit in small circles, feeling yourself become even more wet.

Strings of curses fall from his lips as he listens to your desperate cries of pleasure. The sounds of his thrusts get louder and louder in time when you bury two fingers in and become to fuck yourself like he told you to. It feels better than all of your other attempts but it’s not enough.

Nothing will be enough until you can feel John’s cock deep inside of you. Until you can feel his hips rut against yours and his hoarse moans in your ear. Until you feel the burn that his facial hair will give you when he eats you out like a starved and neglected dog. Until you feel his warm speed leak from you after he’s worked you through several of your own orgasms.

The thoughts of what is to come push you over the edge and you moan out his name in an absolutely pornographic manner. It stirs something disgustingly powerful and sinful deep in his gut when he hears it. He can only imagine the beautiful display of pleasure and bliss that you’ve come as you lay panting post orgasm.

You can only imagine how stunning he looks with his sweats pulled down to his mid thigh, his bare chest rapidly rising and falling while his stomach is painted with his own cum.

“John?” You whisper after your breathing has returned to normal(ish). “When are you coming home?”

His lips turn up in a smirk at your word choice, “missing me more than you let on, now are ya love?”

“Yeah it’s lonely without you here. you can’t leave on another deployment like this without fucking me before.”

“I promise it won’t happen again, my love.”

#john price imagine #john price x reader #john price #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price #captain price smut #price x reader #cod price #price #price smut #captain price imagine #price imagine #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty imagine #call of duty #call of duty smut

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 YOU AND ME (ALWAYS FOREVER)!

FEATURING: dark era!dazai osamu

SUMMARY: more than friends, not quite lovers. that's been your relationship with dazai osamu for as long as you can remember. you didn't want to push him, and you gave him plenty of chances, but there's only so long you can wait for someone. you thought you would be better off moving on—you were wrong, of course. (wordcount: 4.8k; sfw; angst (???) but with a happy ending)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: dark era dazai </3 my heart, i got a sudden urge to write for him and i wanted it to be fluff but then i got this idea and just had to go with it (warnings: fem!reader, smoking & drinking, suicide attempt mentions)

In your defense, you were never dating Dazai Osamu.

Not for a lack of trying on your part, of course. You’ve made your interest in him clear since you met him at sixteen during the Dragon’s Head Conflict, when Mori Ougai pulled you back from where you were stationed in Kyoto dealing with his associates to help with the declining situation in Yokohama. And you’d thought he felt similarly to you. You really did. The two of you had become inseparable within weeks of knowing each other, such a swift and strong connection that it almost felt unreal. You’d heard rumors of him, of course, before coming back to Yokohama—the infamous Demon Prodigy that Mori had brought in and groomed into becoming his heir, ruthless and cold and so terrifyingly intelligent that he had the entire upper echelon of the Port Mafia on edge. 

By the time you got back to Yokohama, he’d already taken the Colonel’s place as an executive—a shame, really, the Colonel was always your favorite of Mori’s five executives, he always brought you gifts when he came to visit you in Kyoto. But he never really felt like the monster that everyone claimed him to be.

He and Nakahara Chuuya had been the one sent to retrieve you from Yokohama Station, an area very close to the heart of the gang conflict, and even from the first meeting, he’d always been… well, you’re not going to say normal because he’s not normal. He’s always had an unnerving air about him, eyes a bit too cold and dark, smile a bit too teethy, but he’s always come across as just another kid your age. Maybe a bit lonelier than most, which could be off-putting to other people, but it never bothered you. And yes, you’ve seen the way other members of the Mafia treat him—they’re scared of him, go to extreme lengths so as to not cross paths with him, but you’ve never seen him in the same light they do.

Well, not until recently, at least. 

Again. In your defense, you were never dating him. 

But you’d known he cared about you as more than a friend. And you’d cared about him as more than a friend too. And you waited. You waited almost two years for him to say something. You didn’t want to do it yourself, you know Dazai is flighty and he’s not used to emotions, and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but god, there’s only so much waiting you can take before you start to give up.

When the two year mark hit, you’d become convinced that Dazai was never going to act on his feelings for you; instead, he’d prefer to wait it out until they passed, and if they never did, he’d just pretend they didn’t exist at all. You can’t really blame him, the Mafia is not a place conducive for relationships, it’s only a matter of time before your luck runs out and one of you end up dead by a bullet through the head or captured by the enemy, and the thought of getting attached to someone only to lose them is enough to scare anyone away. 

But you don’t want to live your life in fear, no matter how short it may be, and you also don’t want to live it alone. So when an opportunity arose at a cafe near the main headquarters, where you met a civilian around your age who showed immediate interest in you, you jumped on it. And it’d caught a lot of people off guard—Kouyou was surprised, Chuuya was baffled and questioning what a civilian could possibly have that interested you, even Mori gave you a double take and an odd look the first time he overheard Elise interrogating you about your new boyfriend.

But no one took it as poorly as Dazai.

Your throat feels tight as you remember the hurt expression that crossed over his face when you told him. It was so brief and so foreign of an expression to see on his face that you’d thought you’d imagined it, he was quick to school his expression back into a cold and closed-off one (one that he’d never directed toward you before that moment), but there was no mistaking the way the corner of his lip twitched and the way he suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes. 

How nice, he’d told you, voice frighteningly icy, acidic, even, before he made a half-assed excuse about a mission that you knew he wasn’t assigned to. And it was so unlike him to offer himself up to handle missions, usually Mori has to force him with threats of giving Chuuya his executive position for him to do anything that makes him extend the barest amount of effort . But he did, and he handled it, very bloodily and uncharacteristically inefficient, as if he was releasing all of his pent up rage onto the unfortunate souls who happened to stumble into Port Mafia territory.

You were never, at any point, dating Dazai Osamu. 

You think you’ve told yourself it hundreds of times over the past three months, throwing yourself into your work and enjoying a relationship with a boy who clearly was invested in you and cares about you in a way that Dazai Osamu would never allow himself to admit. You also think that Dazai Osamu has no right being as bitter and angry as he is—you gave him two years to come to terms with his feelings and make a move, you’ve made your own subtle hints that he promptly ignored. If he wanted to be with you, he blew his chance a hundredfold, and he can go screw off if he thinks he can be upset about it only after you’d found someone else. 

Which is what he did, pretty much, and it was a lot harder than you expected—going from talking to him every waking second of every day, seeking him out whenever you have free time and vice versa, to only seeing him during the joint meetings between the executives and sub executives, where even then, he wouldn’t even spare you a glance. It was hard, and deep down, you don’t think being able to experience an actual relationship was worth losing your best friend, but the damage had already been done by that point, so you could only lie in the bed you made. 

And you did enjoy the relationship. The boy you’d met was sweet. He was good. He was impressively smart—a government and law major at one of the most prestigious universities in this part of the country—and humble to a fault. 

But he wasn’t Dazai. 

You knew in your heart that you didn’t want sweet or good, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You didn’t want the type of smart that he was, top of his class and on track for law school, seeking out a job as a public defender in Tokyo. You wanted the type of smart Dazai was, wicked and devious, putting together vicious and efficient strategies to take down enemies of the Mafia, on track for taking over the position as boss in the future. You wanted him for all of his twisted moralities and questionable thoughts.

And it was unfair to you, and it was unfair to Dazai, and most importantly it was unfair to the boy you kept leading on, that you’ve refused to acknowledge this for as long as you have just for the chance of experiencing a real relationship. 

Which is why you stand here now, outside the infamous Bar Lupin that you know Dazai has been drinking himself into oblivion at everyday for the past three months, notably single and possibly about to meet your end at the hands of a drunken and scorned Mafia executive. 

You think you must look like a fool right now. You’ve been standing right outside the door in the rain for fifteen minutes debating on whether or not you should actually go in. You’re nervous, and that makes you sad because you’ve never been nervous to talk to Dazai before, and you’re not nervous because you’re scared of him, you’re nervous because you don’t think you have the balls to actually confront him, knowing that you’d genuinely hurt the boy that everyone claimed didn’t have the emotions to be hurt. He let you in when he doesn’t let anyone in, and you chose to be careless and you chose to give up, and you hurt him. 

And you remind yourself again: you were not dating Dazai Osamu. You remind yourself that you gave him chances, he had opportunities, and he chose not to take them. You remind yourself that he’s just as at fault as you are for the falling out, but you can’t help but also remind yourself that he was the one that came out the most hurt by the situation. Yes, him cutting himself off from you was upsetting, but you didn’t have to watch him go around happy in a relationship with someone else. He did. 

With that thought in mind, you push the door open to the bar. A soft bell rings above you and instantly, three heads swivel in your direction: the bartender, and two men that you recognize as Sakaguchi Ango, one of the Port Mafia’s special intelligence agents, and Oda Sakunosuke, who you only know through Dazai’s high praise of the man from when the two of you were still on speaking terms. The only person in the room who matters to you doesn’t even bother to look to see who entered the bar, one hand circling the glass of whiskey in front of him while a cigarette dangles from the other. You watch as he lifts it to his lips to take a long drag, head falling tilting back to look up at the ceiling as he exhales a cloud of smoke, seemingly unbothered by your presence.

Already, you feel as if you’ve made a mistake, but you force yourself to continue.

The bartender nods his head in respect to you, although you can’t help but notice he flashes a wary look to Dazai. You wonder, pitifully, how much he’s said about you in this place. Sakaguchi and Oda share a look with one another. Both of them speak a low murmur of your name, inclining their head dutifully—you’re not quite an executive yet, but with the Piano Man of the Flags dead, you and Chuuya are fighting for the next spot to open up. Chuuya will likely be the one to get it, which you think he deserves from all of the heavy lifting he’s done on operations the past two years, but you feel a bit awkward when they give you your due respect when you're here with your tail between your legs trying to talk to Dazai.

Sakaguchi and Oda take their leave when you arrive, giving short goodbyes to Dazai, telling them that they’ll see him another day, and the bartender makes a fumbled excuse about going to the back to restock, leaving you alone with Dazai. Internally, you wither just a bit because you think if they’d stayed, Dazai might keep a handle on himself because you know he views Oda highly; instead, they left you in the lion’s den alone. Which you might deserve, but you digress.

You let out a quiet puff of air as you make your way over to the bar stool next to Dazai, taking a seat in it carefully. Still, he doesn’t look at you, but you look at him and the aching in your chest returns tenfold as your gaze sweeps over him fully for the first time in months. During the joint meetings between the executives and sub-executives, you were always sure to keep your glances short and sweet, not wanting to risk any lingering looks, but now, you can look at him in his entirety for the first time since that fateful discussion three months ago. 

He hasn’t changed much. Or, well, that’s a lie. He’s definitely changed. The circles beneath his eye are darker, his expression a carefully constructed blank mask. You think he might’ve lost some weight, his coat has always been big on him but the way it hangs over his shoulders now is looser than it was before. If it weren’t for the way his fingers were tense around his glass of whiskey, you’d have thought he was entirely unperturbed by your arrival.

You don’t know what to say, and you know you need to be the first to speak because you’re the one that showed up here to talk to him, but now that you’re sitting in front of him you’re floundering for words. You could just come out and say that you broke up with your boyfriend, but you feel like that would be a bit weird, and he’d probably laugh in your face and make a comment about how he doesn’t care. You could ask him how he’s been, but you think he might genuinely put a bullet in you for trying to make small talk with him like that right now. 

The longer you stay silent, the more awkward it becomes, and you want to cry because you’ve never been awkward with Dazai before, and for a brief second, you wonder if things really have changed too much to go back to how they were. 

Finally, you decide to just come out and say, bracing yourself for the inevitable derisive words that are going to leave his lips. “I broke up with him.”

Dazai’s scoff is loud and instantaneous, you bite your tongue, eyes sliding shut as you turn to face ahead instead of looking at him. Cowardly, you know, but you don’t want to see the sneer on his face when he asks you why he should care. 

But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything at first. If you were looking at him, you’d see the way his cold expression shifted into a more conflicted one, still staring ahead because he can’t bring himself to look at you. You count each passing second, and it’s agonizing waiting for him to speak, a part of you thinks that maybe he won’t, and you’ll just have to leave the bar with your tail between your legs, humiliated. 

But then he does. 

“Why?” he finally asks coolly, and your eyes snap open and your gaze slides over to him when you realize he did not, in fact, hit you with the derogation you expected.

He still isn’t looking at you, and you watch as he lifts his free hand back to his lips, taking another long drag of his cigarette as he waits for your response. You swallow thickly when you try to figure out what to say next. 

What you want to say is ‘because he wasn’t you,’ but you’re not ready to bare yourself vulnerable in front of him like that when he’s still so unpredictable. Just because he didn’t immediately hit you with the harsh words you expected, doesn’t mean he isn’t going to lure you in just to slap you in the face with it, which is how you’re sure he perceived what you did three months ago. 

Rather, you say quietly: “He was boring, I guess.”

It’s a lie. Well, a partial lie, at least. He was a good guy, he was just boring compared to what you wanted, and what you wanted was Dazai Osamu, who no one in the world could hope to compare to. 

“He was boring,” Dazai echoes your words, a cruel and mocking lilt to his voice, and you brace yourself now, taking the sudden switch in tone as the flicking off of the safety. But he shakes his head as he lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it’s another scoff or a laugh. “How cold-hearted of you. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given your track record.”

Two paths lay before you: you can take the words as well-deserved, trying to avoid the inevitable fight, or you can spit back equally venomous words, dive in headfirst so the two of you can get everything off of your chest. Both choices are double-edged. If you avoid the fight, it means avoiding the topic altogether, and even if the two of you choose to speak again, the resentment of what had happened will only poison and fester. If you dive into the fight, there’s a chance of saying words you can’t take back, and everything might fall apart anyway.

What do you want? You want to ask him, because you aren’t sure what the right decision is. Three months ago, if you and Dazai got into a disagreement about something, you would know in an instant whether or not he wanted to fight it out to let off steam or just pretend it didn’t happen. Now, you aren’t so sure. He’s still not looking at you, so you can’t use the look in his eye as a hint, but his shoulders are tense beneath his jacket, and his knuckles are white around his glass of whiskey. Your gaze drags up to his face, catching the way his jaw is tight, teeth probably grinding together, and you know. 

You look ahead again, leveling your vision on a particularly nice bottle of wine on the third shelf of the wine rack as you say: “I’d rather be cold-hearted than a coward.”

For the first time since you’ve arrived, Dazai’s gaze cuts in your direction, head snapping to the side. You turn your head toward him just enough for you to eye him from the corner of your eye, catching glimpse of the way his lip curled up into a snarl and the way flames now rage in the browns of his eye—a far cry from the bottomless void, but you prefer the anger to the emptiness. 

“A coward?” His voice is low, cold, dangerous. 

You’re treading on thin ice, but you choose to stoke the flame more, gaze sliding back to the wine racks ahead.

“A coward.”

The silence that hangs between the two of you is tense and damning, you have to force yourself not to react to it, keeping your expression as stony as his as you wait for his response. He’ll either hit you back with more venom or he’ll settle down, one will lead to a blow out fight and the other will lead to a very tense conversation. 

You don’t want to fight him, but if that’s what he wants, you’ll give it to him. 

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai makes another scornful noise but he doesn’t say anything, gaze snapping back ahead as he takes a drag of his cigarette, this one clearly fueled by anger, far more aggressive than the last one. As if to piss him off even more, he hardly gets half of a smoke, down to the nub already. Frustrated, he puts the lingering cinders out on the bartop before reaching for the pack in his pocket, pulling out a new cigarette and his lighter.

You watch as he tries to flick the lighter on, cigarette dangling between his lips, but the old thing refuses to cooperate. Distantly, you wonder why Dazai is so damn stubborn: working with an old lighter, living in a shitty shipping container, wearing the same few pairs of clothes every day when he probably has more money than god hoarded from his executive paycheck. But you only force yourself to not roll your eyes as you pull out your own lighter, flicking it on and holding it out to him without looking at him. 

You watch from the corner of your eye as he stares at your hand suspiciously before he exhales from the side of his mouth, dipping his head down to light the cigarette before he faces ahead again. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches out for his glass of whiskey, still mostly full, and then he slides it over to you.

An offering. A white flag. 

You barely withhold the breath of relief that nearly escapes you, accepting the drink and taking a long sip of it. It’s his favorite brand, smooth and familiar on the tongue; you haven’t been able to bring yourself to drink it since your falling out with him. 

“Was it really because he was boring?” Dazai finally asks. He’s not looking at you again, but you can see from the way his fingers are tense against the bartop that he’s probably waiting for a certain response from you.

You let your eyes slide shut. “No,” you admit.

“Then why?” he presses, as if he doesn’t already know. 

“You know why,” you say tightly, shaking your head and looking down.

“Tell me anyway,” Dazai responds quietly, you can feel his gaze on you but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Irrationally, even though the atmosphere between the two of you has shifted, you wonder if this is it: he’s going to get you to admit it and then laugh in your face, cruel but probably deserved. 

“Because he wasn’t you,” you finally force out.

He doesn’t respond. Your heart sinks to your stomach, a sick feeling churning. You brace yourself again—you don’t know what for, maybe a laugh or a derisive comment, but he does nothing of the sort. 

A long exhale, smoke billowing around his face, a heavy look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at you as he says: “You’re right.”

You don’t respond because you’re not sure what he’s referring to. Finally, he tilts his head to look at you, a wry smile on his lips—your chest feels warm at the sight, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him smile. Probably not since the falling out. 

“I was a coward.”

Oh.

The frustration you felt all of those months ago returns with a vengeance. You had danced with possibilities back then: that you were reading too much into things, that he didn’t actually care for you the way you did for him, that he simply did not want to be with you even if he did care about you that way. Now, faced with confirmation that he had felt the same but was just too pussy to act on it, your chest swells with that familiar anger. You force it away. 

“Why?” you ask after a few moments of silence, nails digging into the palm of your hands as you rest them on your lap. “I… I waited for two years, Dazai. I gave you so many openings. You knew how I felt.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet, barely audible. 

“Then why?” you repeat his words back to him, pressing hard just like he did. His throat bobs beneath his bandages as he swallows, averting his gaze, or trying to, at least, because you don’t let him. You reach out to grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look at you, and the pads of your fingers burn against his skin, hyper aware of the fact that this is the first time you’ve touched him in three months. “Why?”

His hand comes up to grab your wrist as if to pull your hand off of him, but he doesn’t, grip firm around your wrist, fingers pressing against your pulse point, and you’re acutely conscious of the fact that your pulse is probably racing but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“I told you why,” he says, voice uncharacteristically soft. Vulnerable in a way that you’ve never seen him before. “I was a coward. I… didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship... I don't have many friends. You know that. I would’ve rather just ignored how I felt and kept you as a friend, because I didn’t think there’d be a chance of losing you that way. I thought if I acted on how I felt, one day you’d eventually see me for what I am and I’d lose you altogether.”

“Some good that did you.” You can’t help the resentful words that spill from your lips, but you feel guilty when he winces, hand dropping back to your lap, his grip slipping from your wrist. “You think I don’t already see you for who you are? We’ve known each other since we were sixteen, Dazai. I know all of the sick and twisted thoughts that run through your head, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

Dazai shakes his head, as if to deny your words. You get frustrated.

“I spend hours at your recovery bed after your attempts, I’ve caught you in the middle of them myself, do you know what the first thing I did was after I told you I had a boyfriend?” you demand, and he stares at you, unsure. “I put a protection detail on him because I thought you’d try to have him killed, or try to kill him yourself.”

Dazai winces. You shake your head and look away, settling down again. 

“For someone so smart, you really are so goddamn stupid sometimes,” you sigh, taking a long swig of his drink before placing the glass back down on the table. “I saw you for who you are, and I wanted you anyway.”

“Wanted?” Dazai asks, an uncertain expression on his face as he zeroes in on the past tense.

“Want,” you correct, voice little over a breath, and something akin to relief sweeps across his face as his gaze drops down to the bartop.

The silence that hangs between the two of you is more comfortable this time. Reassuring, even, because maybe things might still be awkward between the two of you for a while, but there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, one much brighter than the one the two of you lived in three months ago. 

“I can’t believe you went for a civilian,” Dazai suddenly says, almost sounding indignant. “A civilian. You!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you snap when you hear the incredulous tone he takes when he says ‘you’.

“You’re a stone cold bitch,” Dazai accuses and you gape, but you can’t find it in yourself to be offended because his eyes are lit up for the first time in months, a lopsided smile painted on his face. “And you’ve got as much blood on your hands as I do. You. A civilian. I think I would’ve been less offended if you went for Chuuya.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” you snort, and then you add, a bit amused, “you know what he wants a job as?” 

“Tell me,” Dazai drawls, resting his chin on his hand as he leans on the bar, watching you with such a fond expression that it makes you feel warm all over. 

God, you missed him the past three months. 

“He wanted to go to law school. Become a public defender.”

Dazai chokes over the smoke he inhales, and you press your hand to your lips to smother your giggles as he desperately wheezes between laughs. You’re not sure if he’s actually choking, you think he might actually be dying from how red his face is getting.

“Maybe you should keep in contact with him then,” he gasps between laughs, “we might need one of those one day.”

“As if you’re sloppy enough to ever get caught,” you say dryly.

He winks at you, his grin sharpening, and you know you’re not going to like what he’s about to say. “Oh, I’m not. By ‘we’, I meant you.”

“Douchebag.” You roll your eyes, letting another silence settle over the two of you, a smile on your lips now as you take another sip of your drink. He’s the one to break it again.

“... Odasaku convinced me not to, by the way.”

“What?” 

“To kill him. I was going to. Odasaku convinced me not to.”

You let out a sigh of utter suffering, giving Dazai a pointed look—see, you say silently, I know you. He has the decency to look a bit sheepish as lifts his cigarette back to his mouth in lieu of responding to your unspoken words. 

“Stop with the self sabotage, Dazai,” you finally say, tired. “For both of our sakes’.”

He doesn’t respond, and you know him well enough to know that he’ll probably never stop with the self sabotage, but he does reach out to lace your fingers with his, and the warm feeling that spreads through your chest is enough to satiate you. 

Little steps, because no, the Mafia is not a conducive place for relationships and yes, it’s only a matter of time before luck runs out for one of you, but if your life is destined to be short, there’s only one person you want to spend it with.

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

[wineauntie]

FIVE MINUTES — Luke Hughes x Hischier!reader

summary: in which you and Luke are under a serious time crunch.

note: this was just purely fun to write. This wasn't going to be a Hischier!sister fic but I couldn’t resist!

warnings: make out session, use of y/n and the nickname ‘baby’, fem!reader, reader is Nico’s sister, swearing, forbidden relationship (kind of), reader is a photography and journalism major (do i know how the American collegiate system works? No! But go with it, it’s fineeee)

word count: 1.5k

You gasped as your back slammed against the door behind you, your heart racing as the blood pumped through your body. You felt feverish as if each of your veins had been ignited with a pure, searing fire. Your back pressed against the wood, the frame of the door digging into your spine. Adrenaline fuelled your brain as you lunged forward again, your hands reached out to grasp and clutch whatever you could to draw closer.

"God, we’ve got to stop this or I won't be able to control myself."

Luke's deep groan against your lips caused you to slightly withdraw from the kiss. Your lips curled in amusement as your hands threaded through his hair.

"Then start listing presidents or something," you grinned, crashing your lips to his once more. The grasp he had on your waist tightened even further, his hands spanning against the skin where your top had ridden up. "We only have five minutes…maybe less at this rate."

"You are trouble," he moaned in defeat, pressing you further against the wall as his warm hands gripped you as if in fear you may be taken from him.

Let's get one thing straight, you and Luke were complicated. He liked you, you liked him but if your brother ever caught wind of that? Oh, there would be hell to pay.

Nico Hischier had a stick up his ass— at least you thought so. He had warned you countlessly throughout your childhood that you were to stay away from his hockey friends and that they had received the warning to stay away from you. He said they were "never going to treat you like you deserve to be treated", you agreed, of course.

Hockey men were the semblance of all evil, they only cared about three things; hockey, their roster and blonde hair (you never understood their obsession with that one honestly?). You convinced yourself that they were the evil that walked the Earth, the only exception being your immediate family members.

...that is until you met Luke Hughes.

You'd moved to New Jersey over the course of lockdown and moved in with your brother. You wanted a change of pace from life back home, and you'd enrolled in various colleges in New York for photography and journalism.

When life had returned to normality, you’d been recruited to work as a social media girl on a part time basis for the Devils. It was a good gig, not too demanding but they paid you well enough. You attended away games and did little fun interviews for TikTok and their Instagram.

You'd met Luke in early 2023, briefly interviewing him with stupid questions like "if you got swept up in a tornado, what wouldn’t want to hit you as you spin?" or "if you could only skate on one leg, which leg would you choose?". You were aware of how cheesy and awful the questions were but the Devil's TikTok loved it– they devoured content like such.

It was only after a winning home game did you truly get to know Luke Hughes.

The two of you had sat next to each other in the bar the majority of the team had chosen to celebrate at. You remembered your brother sitting with Jack at the other table, celebrating their victory, your eyes warily glancing to Nico every few minutes.

You and Luke had talked awkwardly at first until the awkwardness was swept away and the storm of laughter and easy chatter arrived. You'd known from that moment on, that Luke Hughes was different. He wasn't like anyone else you'd ever met. He'd caused your stomach to flip and your gaze to soften.

You'd ended that night with Nico offering Luke and Jack to stay over at your shared apartment.

Nico and Jack had walked ahead to try catch a taxi, both, paying no attention to you and Luke who were completely and utterly enraptured by each other.

And the rest was history.

Luke's body pressed against yours as his hand moved to cup your jaw, his thumb smoothing over the skin there. There was no other feeling quite like this one, he figured. You desperately reaching up to hold him as he devoured you like a man starved. It was the little moments like these where the two of you broke away from reality and allowed yourselves to indulge in the greatness of this feeling.

Luke had known he liked you from the very moment he spotted you laughing with the other photographers on his very first day with the Devils. He saw the way you tipped your head and scrunched your nose as you let out a melodic sound, so sweet he wanted to pocket it and take it wherever he went. He wasn't even sure you'd seen him that day, but he'd seen you and it was hard to ever forget it.

The night at the bar was the moment that he knew he was a goner. He'd seen the lingering stares from men and women alike in the bar the moment you had walked in. He'd seen the way you parted the crowd like an angel in the darkness, eyes only set on him, your slight and shy smile suddenly overshadowing the night's victory. And you'd chosen to sit beside him...HIM!

Over the weeks following that night the two of you had texted back and forth, hanging out whenever you can and when you'd kissed him in the rain after an unofficial, but kind of official, date, he knew you felt the same way about him.

That had officially been the beginning your sneaking around. The two of you hid in the shadows of bars, clubs and each other's apartments when your respective brothers weren't around.

Which is what led you to this very moment. Nico had invited Jack and Luke over to watch a match of some kind. He hadn't even told you until the two brothers had knocked on your apartment door just after lunch. You'd had to hide your wide smile at the sight of the tall, bashful boy who stood scratching his head behind Jack.

They'd both been here since then, with you and Luke exchanging secret glances every few minutes. It was later in the evening when Nico had suggested that the four of you order dinner in and when Jack had offered to accompany him downstairs to the lobby to help collect it, it guaranteed you and Luke approximately five minutes of just you and him.

You head found itself flush against the wood of your bedroom door, just down the hall from the living room, as Luke pressed desperate kisses down your neck, his hand still cradling your cheek, moving your head to give him more access to the supple, exposed skin. Your breath caught in your throat as he gently sucked the flesh over your pulse point, your hands playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Luke," you whimpered whilst he softly bit over the spot and ran his tongue over the bruising skin.

"I know, baby," he murmured, his breath fanning across your skin as he moved back up to look you face to face. Your blown pupils met his, the heat in your cheeks spreading around your body like wildfire. "Been missing you."

Your nose brushed against his with a whine. You hadn't seen each other in almost a week and a half, between your exams and Luke's games, you two just hadn't been able to find the time. You craved his touch, his comfort and his warmth.

"Been missing you too, Lu," you muttered, pulling him in for another kiss. Your neck craning as he enveloped you in a tight grip once more, his lips meeting yours frantically.

The two of you were so wrapped up in yourself that you hadn't heard the front door opening. You'd only heard one box of food hit the floor causing you and Luke to jump apart and snap your heads towards the noise.

Nico stood with a dropped jaw in front of Jack who smirked knowingly. Your wide eyes looked between Luke and Nico, your mouth agape in horror. Luke's hand was still around your waist as your brain ran in circles trying to decipher where to begin.

"What the fuck!” Nico eventually groaned breaking the silence.

"It's not what it looks like!" You rushed out, not making any attempt to move away from Luke.

You watched nervously as Nico furiously dug around his pocket until he yanked out twenty dollars and shoved it into Jack's awaiting open hand.

"Thank you," Jack grinned, winking at the two of you as he pocketed the money. You and Luke scrunched your eyebrows and shared a look of pure confusion.

"You couldn't wait until next month, no?" Nico huffed, picking up the fallen box of food before moving towards the kitchen with Jack, leaving both you and Luke standing in your stupor, before Luke let out a small laugh, burying his head in your neck as you stifled a groan.

"What the...YOU GUYS BET ON US?!"

#wineauntie #hughes brothers x reader #luke hughes x reader #nhl x reader #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfiction #nico hischier #Nico hischier sister

[rineptune]

Heeeeeyyyy pal

Can we get a continuation of that fic with the pregnant reader who's Lucifer's sister

Like what if her water broke at like, the *least* convenient time and Lucifer is freaking tf out, Alastors chill as usual and readers just like

:) "I'm just glad to be here" while having contractions

Love your work btw 🤗

inconvenient timing.

summary: inconvenient timing for your water to break, but what else could you do?

warnings: foul language, brief description of the horrors of pregnancy and labor

a/n: here it is n tysm!! the second part to devil’s paradise

during your pregnancy, all is well. 

regular visits from the doctor became part of the routine, and alastor made the effort to be the one accompanying you to every last one of them, and on the rare occasion that he couldn’t accompany you, charlie—your ever optimistic and kind niece—was the one who came with.

the crew of the hotel treated you as if you were made of glass, not wanting you to lift too much on your plate, so they did their best to cater to your every need and demand (not that you needed much and bothered them often).

you took care of yourself, too.

though your belly had gotten swollen, you were feeling fine, as if you weren’t carrying the unborn child of the feared radio demon in pride ring. you thanked whoever it is you could thank that you didn’t experience morning sickness, however, you were no exemption from the fatigue and discomfort that came with being pregnant.

lucifer’s worry for your well-being throughout all of this still hasn’t completely faded away. you were his only sister! and his brothers in heaven would surely have his head if something did happen to you now that you’ve fallen from the skies and are now under his domain.

everything was going well, until it wasn’t.

•

you went with charlie during another meeting with heaven’s official court in place of your brother. obviously, all eyes wandered to your stomach because, how could they not?

a former angel pregnant? that stirred whispers and disgusted expressions from those who were from the court.

“as you can see, the population in hell is—“

charlie was cut off when the angels gasped in unison. confused, she turned to you, and her eyes widened when she saw the bottom half of your dress soaked. 

“oh my go—! aunt yn, your water broke.” she says in a panic.

“i see that, my dear,” you answer with an awkward cough. 

“it seems that i’ll be taking my leave early, uhm... excuse me.”

“wait! uhm, i’ll take you back!” she tells you. “we’ll be back another time, sorry! this is very important for us.” charlie tells the angels present at the court meeting.

•

alastor swore you were about to snap his hand into two.

“darling, are you nervous?” he asks smoothly.

“no? why would you ask that, al?”

“hmm.”

he glances at the hand that gripped his, remarkably so tight that he feels all the blood from that particular area stop flowing. your free hand caressed your belly through the hospital gown, taking slow and even breaths to somewhat soothe the contractions.

“i was only wondering,” alastor answers.

you may have a high pain tolerance, but when you’re having contractions, you might as well swear on every god and angel to spare you from the agonizing pain—promising to never think of having any children in the future again. 

because, god, it hurts like a bitch.

as calm as you were, lucifer, on the other hand, had no calm bone in his body.

“oh, god. gabriel’s calling,” lucifer says, looking as though he’s about to throw up.

“and the nursery still has renovations that need to be done—“

“i’m going to be an uncle, holy shit—“

“what if something goes wrong? what? no! i shouldn’t think that—“

“should i prepare the gifts—“

“where are the doctors and nurses? they should’ve been here by now—“

“i knew we shouldn’t have taken you to sloth ring, yn—“

“lucifer,” you breathed out. “calm down.”

“i am calm! fucking calm,” he said, wiping away the sweat on his brow. 

“you sound like a dying goat, my lord,” alastor smiled.

“fuck you, deerface.”

“ok, ok. no one should be fighting,” you amusedly sigh, groaning when you feel another sharp contraction that had you biting your lip.

this got the attention of the other two, and lucifer asked you if you were okay as alastor placed a comforting hand on your belly.

well, at least they got along when need be.

•

“look, she has your eyes and smile, al.”

after long, painful hours of labor and practically dying on your hospital bed due to the procedure of bringing a new life into this hellish world, a healthy baby girl was born.

she took on alastor’s ears, eyes, and smile, while she had your wings and charm. the little fawn was sound asleep in your arms after almost tragically biting off a nurse’s finger when he was checking for anything wrong with your baby—to alastor’s dismay, he wished his little girl had succeeded. 

nevertheless, she is perfect in his eyes already.

“our little fawn is certainly perfect, my dear,” he says. “she has your charm, too.”

“that she does.”

and you best believe charlie and lucifer cried when charlie finally held her baby cousin.

“charlie, dear, are you ok?” you ask, a bit concerned.

“allergies, auntie. allergies,” she sniffled.

nothing would ever happen to her, because anyone who dares even look at the niece of the morningstar fallen angel who was also the daughter of the infamous radio demon, would receive hell served on a golden platter without any remorse or time for rebuttal.

“it may have been inconvenient timing to have my contractions,” you murmur to alastor once you two are finally home and alone with your baby. “but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“i’m glad that you’re ok, darling.”

“mm, thank you, alastor.”

“you shouldn’t thank me for worrying about you. it’s only natural for me to do so, no?” he says.

“now, i have to take care of two, but i wouldn’t have it any other way either.”

#classic ໒꒱ ink #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #alastor fluff #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[shanastoryteller]

happy pride!! dealer’s choice <3

Steve is going to die again just a few short years after waking up in this new world and his death is going to be significantly less glorious the second time around.

“You don’t think he’s going to come,” Duke Rhodes says, tied up next to him and in even worse shape than he is. An unfortunate side effect of not being a sorcerer’s experiment and being nearly a decade older than him, he assumes.

“You do?” he asks, too exhausted to filter himself like he tries to do around him.

Rhodes raises an eyebrow. “I think his champion and his general are tempting enough bait, yes. Listening to their demands and showing up alone is also the most foolish choice he could possibly make, so I’m confident the king won’t be able to help himself.”

Those words would be treason from anyone else, but Rhodes has long been King Anthony’s personal confidant, and the one managing this war for the king from the beginning. Steve supposes that grants the man a certain level of leeway.

Steve is, now and always, exactly what he was enchanted to be. The King’s Champion. From the moment he woke up in a land at once so familiar and so different from his own, he renewed the vow he took seventy years ago. To serve his king and uphold the dignity of the realm so long as a Stark sat on the throne.

King Howard, however, had been an easier man to serve. He’d at least taken the time to meet with Steve, for one, had taken an active interest in the war he fought rather than delegating it and holing himself up in his castle. He’d been cold, and detached in many way from the realities of the war he’d started, but he was a king, and his attention, however brief, had always rallied the troops in a way that Steve admired.

King Anthony at least delegates well, he’ll give the man that. Rhodes does not come from noble blood, something they share, but by the time Steve woke up here it was long past something others were willing to hold against Rhodes. His title of Duke had been a gift from the king. His title of General had been one he earned.

“Steve?” Rhodes frowns, eyeing him like he’s looking for injuries that he hasn’t noticed.

Perhaps Steve is more injured than he thinks, because he doesn’t have the good sense to stop himself from saying, “He did not come for his alchemist.”

He tenses, but Rhodes just sighs, shifting in his bonds as if trying to find a more comfortable position even though if that existed, they would have found it by now. “You hold a grudge for something that happened not only before your time, but for something that Edward does not.”

“Edward is too forgiving,” he says stiffly and doesn’t say the same of Rhodes even though he thinks it often.

He sees the warmth and tenderness and affection between Rhodes and Edward clearly and it galls him that Rhodes has so easily forgiven his king leaving the man Rhodes loves to die. Edward is often trying to coax Steve and Rhodes into a more affectionate relationship, but it’s a hurdle Steve can’t quite overcome.

When he’d first awoken there had been nothing but mourning and determination and another war and then there was Edward. Infuriating and funny and warm and completely irreverent, the only person who seemed to treat him as more than cursed and made his terrible circumstances feel like home. Alchemist, armorer, blacksmith – he seemed to do everything and anything required by the crown and with a speed and skill that left Steve breathless. Rhodes may be directing and managing the war but without Edward’s tinctures and potions and weapons and armor, the war would have been lost long ago.

And when he’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, their enemy demanding the king’s presence to free him, the king had stayed safe in his castle.

Steve understood it logically. He’d had no queen or heir at the time and was the last legitimate Stark. Even if he’d been the type of king who cared about his people, he could not risk himself for a subject, no matter how valuable, no matter how much that subject sacrificed or gave or how valuable he was.

But that was just as true for him and Rhodes as it was for Edward and the king had left Edward to be tortured. They had tried to force him to make weapons, to betray his king, and Edward had refused. Steve saw some of the marks of that torture even now, years later, and he could not bring himself to love a king who did not care for that devotion, who hid away in his castle and let better men fight for his kingdom.

He was not required to love his king, only obey and serve him, and that Steve had always done.

He’d earned his title too. Both under King Howard and King Anthony. Being the King’s Champion did not mean being his friend. Not that was something he could claim to be, when he’d never even met the man.

“The Iron Mage saved him and the Iron Mage serves the king,” Rhodes points out, as if Steve doesn’t know that. “Isn’t that enough?”

The Iron Mage is his battle brother and his friend and yet another pillar keeping the kingdom steady while King Anthony can’t seem to be bothered. He holds the light of a star in the center of his chest and uses magic like a blunt weapon, the elements of the star sliding over his body, shifting and changing metals as he brutalizes the battlefield. Those that had captured Edward had found their base reduced to rubble and the Iron Mage appeared wielding a power that not even Sorcerer Strange could explain.

They said he was Goddess blessed, sent from the heavens as a shooting star to aid the king in his war, to ensure victory for the Starks who ruled by divine right of the Goddess Herself. Steve wasn’t sure of all that. The Iron Mage seemed man enough, for all he was constantly covered in his strange shifting, shimmering metal. His voice came out raspy and too low, as if he was in pain, and Steve often wondered if holding the core of a star was worth the consequences, but he was the last one to ask questions like that, considering what he’d allowed Sorcerer Erskine to do to him. The Iron Mage’s humor was wry and ever present despite that, and Steve often thought that he and Edward would get along, if the Iron Mage could ever be coaxed into spending time off the battlefield with the man he saved all those years ago.

But he couldn’t quite lay that victory at King Anthony’s feet. If anything, it seemed like the Iron Mage had used saving Edward as a way to secure his place at the king’s side, rather than that he’d been sent by the king in the first place. No one had heard of such a mage before that, after all.

“Perhaps the Iron Mage will come for us,” he says instead of answering. It’s possible. But the Iron Mage is supposed to be on the other end of the battlefield by now and by the time he hears of his and Rhodes’s capture, it may be too late.

Rhodes shakes his head. “You need to have a little more faith in your king.”

“Why should I?” he snaps, knowing starting an argument when they’re literally tied together is a dumb decision, but like most of his dumb decisions, he can’t help himself. “When King Howard dragged us to war, he at least let us see his face, he made an effort. I hardly expect a king to take to the battlefield, but King Anthony stays in his castle, with his drink and his women if the rumors are to be believed. Queen Virginia has introduced herself to the soldiers several times but the king has not. What sort of man is he to ask faith from me?”

“Well, I said faith, not trust,” Rhodes says tiredly. “Tony didn’t start this war and he’s doing his best to end it.” It’s rare that Rhodes will slip into the familiar name for the king, but it startles Steve every time, the reminder of just how close the general and the king are, and how little that closeness had mattered when Edward was captured. “Although I’ll grant you that you’re right about one thing.”

Steve is exhausted suddenly, in a way that has little to do with his lack of sleep or his injuries, but he’s too grateful for Rhodes keeping his temper while he can’t to ignore him now. “What’s that?”

“Tony is nothing like his father.”

#god i love identity shenanigans #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #avengers

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Old love never rusts. Mihawk has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Mihawk's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Mihawk wants the entire conversation to end before it has even started. He's aware that his heartache and anger are bound to get the better of him. Not to mention Shanks, who will surely gloat and boast beyond tastefulness. Although Mihawk can't exactly blame Shanks for his pride - the Warlord knows that he'd behave identically, if not worse, were their roles reversed.

Shanks knows what's on Mihawk's mind. he can read it on his face, in the sombre gloom that clouds his yellow eyes. Still, the red-haired captain patiently waits for the swordsman to break on his own. It will happen soon enough as the matter of you is the only subject that rids Mihawk of his self-control. He may be a great man, in more ways than one but when it comes to the insatiable love seems unable to let go, the Warlord becomes a young boy at heart, always seeking assurance that his affections are returned. Or not outright rejected, at least. Alas, the consequences of his own selfish actions have finally caught up to him and Mihawk must face the truth - this love is never going to be returned.

"How is she?" Mihawk asks reluctantly. He hates to give Shanks the satisfaction but the famished desire of his heart is a lot stronger than his iron will and pride. "You know of whom I speak."

Shanks gives him a mocking smile, a devilish flame appearing in his brown eyes.

"I also know you have no right to ask that, hawk-eyes," he answers. "Not when you treated her like a backup option."

"I never-" Mihawk hangs his voice. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Agitated negation will only further prove the captain's point. Truth be told, deep inside Mihawk knows that Shanks is right. He did treat as someone who would always be there, waiting for him until he came back from his escapades. Until you grew tired; until you didn't. "Where is she?" he asks angrily. But what he really wants to ask is 'If you're here, who's taking care of her? Who's looking after the one you promised to keep safe and happy?'

"Home with the kids," Shanks retorts casually. Despite his light-hearted tone, there's a hint of something mischievous between his words.

Mihawk feels disgusted. The thought that Shanks got to know you intimately and built a familial life with you fills him with rage so visceral he'd rather claw his own eyes out than think about it. And that red-haired poor excuse of a husband probably considers himself good enough for you.

Laughable, if it wasn't so sad.

"I suppose I should wish you well," Mihawk begrudgingly murmurs. Once again, his words do not quite reflect his actual thoughts. He wishes you well but couldn't care less about Shanks's well-being. Mihawk already knows for a fact that the red-haired captain is incapable of taking care of you properly so it would really be mercy if Shanks had a little accident and Dracule could play the magnificent role of a consoling party.

"You should." Shanks nods. "But I know you won't." He lets out a bitter chuckle. He's disillusioned about Mihawk's perpetual heartbreak. Some part of him still pities the Warlord. After all, how awful must be the torment that can haunt someone like him for a good decade?

"Yes, I won't," Dracule drones his words. There is jealousy, there is envy and then there is the horrible sensation that has been eating him up for the past ten years, slowly turning the man into a bitter, brutal husk of a person. And he shall never find it in him to wish Shanks well after he had shamelessly taken the person the closest to his heart.

Turning on his heel, Mihawk marches away from Shanks. He knows that if he spends another minute around the red-haired man, he will do something he might regret.

He could be a mighty Warlord, the greatest swordsman alive and, perhaps ever - truly a someone. Alas, as a wise man once said: You're nobody until somebody loves you. And everyday of his life, each time he wakes up to a cold bed and a house drowned in deafening silence, Mihawk is reminded that he is less than nobody. For it was his own grandiosity that had ridded him of the person he cares about the most.

Dracule's gnawing loneliness is accompanied only by his own thoughts, only by the rumination of his utmost failure. 'It didn't have to be like this', he reminds himself on the nights when he can't fall asleep, 'You could have had everything'.

#mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #shanks x you #mihawk fanfiction #shanks x reader #dracule mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk one piece #mihawk #red haired shanks #shanks #shanks one piece #shanks imagine #one piece shanks #shanks fanfiction #dracule mihawk fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece #one piece angst #mihawk angst #shanks angst

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Give It To You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: After a month of dating, Y/N isn't sure if what she has with Rafe is love.

Masterlist

Y/N and Rafe have been girlfriend and boyfriend for a month now and everyone knows it. She has to admit that she is nervous about being with him. Her biology major clashes with his business one. Her more reserved personality isn’t supposed to go with his outgoing party one. She knows there must be whispers about her around campus because she’s heard a few of them. She’s only with him because he needs help with some of his school work and she wants something out of it. She makes him stay home from parties. She is trying to control him. Everyone seems to think that whatever she and Rafe have is anything but love. They are, of course, wrong because she does love him. And he loves her. At least, she hopes that he loves her. Neither of them has said the words yet, but she knows that’s how she feels about him. They are both scared to say the words out loud. They just don’t know the other’s feelings. 

A small part of her feels like maybe he doesn’t like her. She can see how he treats her differently from the other girls. How he looks at her with a special twinkle reserved only for her. How he always follows his rules to take care of her. Her brain wants to take all of those facts though and replace them with doubt. And Rafe can see that. 

Her head is placed on his chest, letting it rise and fall with his breathing. His fingers twirl her hair around and around. He looks down to see her deep in thought, “What’s on your mind, Angel?” She readjusts her head on his chest, so she can look at him. “Do you ever hear the rumours about us on campus?” she whispers. His brows meet at a point, moving her hair behind her ear, “Yeah, why are you asking?” “Do you think they are right? That what we have isn’t lo- liking,” she worries, occupying herself with tracing her finger along his chest. His heart flutters at the word she is about to say. He knows she is going to say she loves him and he wants to scream to the world how happy he is. “I love you,” he says, looking her dead in the eyes. If this conversation is going where he thinks it is, then he knows she needs those words. Her cheeks raise to create a puff and her eyes gleam with happiness, but her concern comes back soon. “But how do you know what we really have is love? We’ve never been in love before.” 

He gets off of his bed, searching for something on his dresser. He returns to her and pulls her onto his lap. “I may not have been in love before, but I know exactly how I feel about you. When I’m with you, the world stops. All I can think about is you and how I can make you happy. The thought of you being taken away from me would kill me,” he confesses. “And I’ve never felt that way about someone before, so if that’s not love, then I don’t know what is. But if that doesn’t convince you about how I feel, then maybe giving you this will.” He holds up his hand and a golden chain dangles from between his fingers, hanging from a small jump ring is the name of his frat in the Greek alphabet. His fraternity letters. A necklace given to him by his frat brothers that Rafe is never supposed to give it away. 

“Rafe, you can’t give this to me. Your frat brothers are going to kill you,” she refutes, pushing his hand back towards him. He shakes his hand, unclipping it to put it around her neck, “I don’t care about them. If this is going to show you how much I love you, then let me give it to you, Angel.” His lips greet her cheek as he admires the way the letters rest between her breasts. He thinks he might die with how happy he is with her wearing his necklace. “Rafe, thank you. I love you too,” she says, giving him multiple kisses on the lips. His hands go to play with her hair, “I love you so much, Angel. I don’t think you will ever understand.” He places his head on her neck, enjoying the warmth of her in his arms. They may have only been dating for a month, but he already knows he would stay the rest of his life in hell for this Angel. 

——

It’s the frat’s weekly meeting and every brother is supposed to wear their letters to it, but when Rafe shows up without it, it causes an uproar amongst the boys. “Where are your letters?” Kelce questions, holding up his own as if Rafe doesn’t know what he is talking about. Rafe shrugs nonchalantly, walking to his chair at the head of the table, “I gave it to Y/N.” “What! Dude, those are your letters. You aren’t supposed to give it to some random chick,” Topper argues. Rafe’s head whips towards Topper with anger, “My angel isn’t some chick. I love her and she needed something to prove that. I don’t want to hear another gripe about this. Do you understand?” “Man, he is whipped for her,” Topper mutters under his breath. Rafe ignores Topper and starts the meeting. He places his phone on the table, accidentally turning it on so the whole room can see his background photo of Y/N smiling with his letters around her neck. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#let me angel #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #otuerbanks #outer banks rafe #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outerbanks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #obx #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic #obx imagine

[hinakazino]

Tobi’s Sister? || Akatsuki w/ child!reader

Summary: You’re tobi’s sister, that’s it. You may also be the one the Akatsuki love most.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of angst.

Inspired by this piece: uchihas w/ sister!reader.

You were the last Uchiha ever born, as in you were born a little over a year before the Uchiha Clan Massacre. Obito had known about your presence as it was no secret when a new member was arriving.

Although it was traditional to keep quiet about it until around the 2nd semester out of worry for stressing out the mother. He still found out anyway, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Your arrival was a heartwarming moment. Your mother was very happy for you filled up her heart. Her heart which was dull, was now filled with hope, from the previous loss of her son, him.

It was unfortunate then, that not long after having you that she had gone. That the whole clan had gone, except for you and Sasuke. Obito had debated on your worth but ultimately he chose to keep you and Madara didn't seem to be against it.

Madara himself hearing that he had a little sister had simply said that "we should at least leave out some hope for our clan". So, on the night of the Uchiha massacre you were taken to a secret location, death faked.

From that point on, Obito had raised you on his own and he soon found that you were his love. You were so sweet and adorable, he didn't want anything happening to you. When you came he swore no feelings towards you, yet now you are his weakness.

It wasn't like Obito hid his face from you either, but he knew that he had to keep his plan foolproof so he never told you his real name, sticking to Tobi/big brother. He'd save that revelation for when you were much older.

By the age of 3, you were a healthy toddler who was energetic and intelligent. You picked up things quicker than others, such as walking and talking. Although you weren't a professional you could communicate what you wanted. It was at this age that Obito introduced you to the Akatsuki. Most of the members were surprised by this. Not really by the point that Tobi had this child with him who he had a brotherly relationship with, but more so the point that Pain actually allowed you into the organization.

By the age of 4 you had gotten used to your environment, you were an energetic child. Tobi was personally worried about how the Akatsuki would treat you but nothing bad came out of it. You were given all you needed and treated with the utmost respect.

It was honestly laughable, how the akatsuki. The most powerful criminal organization, dawned in their signature black, red cloud cloaks had this small child. In her small puffy dress running around.

The truth was that not all of the akatsuki knew you personally, they knew you exist but not all have met you. It was decided that you'd be with the main group.

Pain was at a loss of words, truly, when you were introduced into the equation. He knew right away that you were definitely an uchiha and that you had quite a strong bond with Tobi (for him, "Madara").

But it seemed that out of all things Tobi sincerely meant everything he said about you. He had even cited how Pain and Konan wanted to create a place where children could be happy, "a place I hope she'll be," he said while cradling your sleeping form.

So, Pain ultimately did let you in but not without stating his own terms. Handling a child was not at all easy and if you were to stay with them. You should at least be trained to an extent where you were useful.

After all, the organization doesn’t want any people who’d slow them down. At least, that was the original reason, deep down Pain did feel the need to protect you.

Ultimately a plan was devised, they’d take care of you, teach you, and train you. The more difficult things could be dealt with later on. So, a teaching plan was developed for you when you became apart of the Akatsuki.

Kakuzu had known of your arrival long before any of the other members. As previously Pain had consulted him on this as part of the budget would be put towards taking care of you. This, greatly annoyed Kakuzu.

Kakuzu didn't understand why Pain even cared about you to this extent. He saw this as wasted money, baby formula and diapers weren't cheap. But thankfully, he didn't have to worry about that because by the time you were established as a member you didn't need that anymore.

He eventually didn't mind you at all as you weren't that big of an annoyance. You weren't that interested in him at first. Eventually though due to Pains plan Kakuzu would have to teach you mathematics.

A class, which, to your dismay and Kakuzu's you disliked. Nonetheless he was at least grateful you absorbed knowledge and was quite shocked whenever you'd join into his money-speaking conversations with Hidan.

Hidan was one of the most shocked members, "oh I wonder how strong she is!" he had said. Then when your small form peaked out from behind Tobi, Konan had to reminded him that you were just a child.

Hidan got along with you easily though, and it was no secret the rest of the members enjoyed the "tea parties" you'd host with him and Deidara. Hidan greatly enjoyed your innocence to the world.

Especially your reaction to new things. He remembers laughing so hard when he had you try french fries for the first time, or when you'd seen a shooting star for the first time. He made sure of course, to tell you to make a wish. He really enjoyed your company.

Despite this, Hidan wasn't given an educational role but more so a babysitter rule. It wasn't ideal but he was like a guard for you, since he enjoyed your company he was tasked with keeping an eye on you most of the time.

Deidara reacted exactly like Hidan had, he didn't expect you to be a kid though honestly! When he first saw you he honestly thought you were quite cute. You were so chubby and soft, he loved whenever he'd come back from a long mission. You'd run and hug him!

It was even better when Hidan and him would compete for who you'd hug first. However most of the time you wouldn't choose or just run to Konan instead.

Deidara, unlike Hidan, although being assigned to watch over you partly also was your art teacher. Deidara was not allowed to use explosions at all with you, this was strictly forbidden by Pain and more so by Tobi. Not like he would though after seeing how easily you could get injured. You had merely fell but it'd left you with two bleeding knees that healed fast thankfully since you were still young, but had scared you for awhile. It hurt Deidara to witness that, who would enjoy that anyway?

He mainly just has you make sculptures with him, and it isn't like he hates doing other things besides sculptures. So besides his tendency to destroy things in "the name of art" he really doesn't do that with you also because you had cried once. That was when he realized you were more of a collection person.

Sasori hadn’t given any reaction at all when you’d arrived. He saw it like this, as long as you didn’t disturb him he wouldn’t you. However, it seems like Pain had other plans.

As you technically had to be taught besides being taken care of. It turns out that Sasori had been chosen to be your science teacher. He wasn’t particularly fond of this idea as a child such as you seemed quite dumb, no?

Well he was wrong about you being dumb because you were quite intelligent for your age, but not obedient. Sasori was a man who’d get the job done though so he found a way around your constant moving. It didn't take a genius to figure out kids were active.

He was actually starting to enjoy teaching you then, as you were always excited when he said he had something new for you. You absorbed knowledge from him and always praised him. This stroked his ego a lot.

He was especially impressed at your reaction to his puppets. You’d let out the loudest squeal he’d ever heard and hadn’t even realized it was a puppet. You reminded him of when he was young, and it made him get closer to you.

Itachi had just accepted your presence, although your age shocked him a bit. He was technically considered young himself when he had joined the Akatsuki, and besides he'd seen much worse.

At first, he didn't know how to interact with you but introductions were said and done with Pain's assignment for him. Itachi was to be your actual babysitter, he got you ready for meals, helped dress you, and more.

Pain knew out of everyone here Itachi was kind with kids and knew how to be responsible. Which is why Itachi is your Nanny, always reminding you of naps, rest, and shower time.

It was a bit debated whether it would be Konan or Itachi but Konan was normally rather busy and Itachi had swore to Tobi no harm would come to you. He wasn't one to break promises either. Itachi tried to not become attached to you emotionally but clearly failed. He didn't want to lose another person, or worst comes to worst, be the one to take out that said person. He wasn't an idiot, he knew you were an Uchiha from the moment he laid eyes on you. It was the most shocking of all in your first meeting. He couldn't help feeling grateful in the end however, to know that at least one person was spared from the massacre. This was soon combined with a feeling of guilt though as he knew you were entangled in much more now, he vowed he'd protect you if he could, just like Sasuke.

Eventually, you had come to love Itachi just like a brother, he gave you a sense of familiarity and was super gentle. The same could be said for Itachi, who now saw Sasuke in you.

Kisame was quite amused when you'd joined the Akatsuki. Wouldn't it be rather fun for people to hear of this? Well, either way he thought you'd be scared of him on your first meeting.

Turns out you weren't in the least, you were really curious about him too. When you'd first met your hands had touched his face all over, but what made you love him the most was how high he could lift you.

This was when Kisame first learned just how much kids loved to be tossed around (gently) and he always made sure to lower his strength around you. He actually was quite entertained with you, not as bored as he’d thought.

He was assigned to be your swim teacher, expected really. He began teaching you right away and quickly caught onto your fear of the deep water. Not to fear though because Tobi was there watching your first couple lessons and Kisame controlled the waters to prevent any harm.

He did his best to make the waters seem calm and fun. Whenever he could he’d take you to the beach or a lake. Sometimes Itachi would even tag along with you two as he watched Kisame swim out with you.

Kisame felt proud knowing you were learning quickly. He had bragged about it once to Hidan and Deidara too. They had called him soft towards you but it wasn’t necessarily a lie.

Konan lastly, was your Language/Biology teacher, she came around more often after you came into the equation. You were so adorable in her eyes and she loved whenever you’d run into her arms.

Konan loved your squishy chubby cheeks, most of all your cute voice when you called her name. She was assigned as your biology teacher for obvious reasons. Although this is a more later role she would help you through puberty and such.

She was also your language teacher, helping you learn the characters and to read. Enjoying the fun moment she’d have with you on her lap reading along. You were a kind presence in her world, a reminder of what she hopes to work towards.

Konan is happy to take care of you and you view her much like an older sister. She teaches you so much, and is a very encouraging person. Helping you gain new experiences and also protecting you as much as she can.

© 2023 by Hinakazino, do not translate/edit/claim or use my work in any form.

#naruto #anime #Itachi x reader #Akatsuki #Akatsuki x reader #Pain x reader #Konan x reader #Kisame x reader #Kakuzu x reader #Deidara x reader #Hidan x reader #Tobi/Obito x reader #Naruto x reader #Child!Reader

[readbyred]

may i request how the dps boys would react to realising they have a severe crush on a, preferably shy, reader! tysm <\3

Oh, I've been waiting for dps requests! Sorry for my late replies everybody, I got demotivated again because tumblr deleted a few of my x reader posts (and a few others). But I'll try to not let that happen again if I can even help it

I think Knox would have such a silly time trying to approach you. Because we all know he’s awkward, but determined at best and, well… pushy at worst. I'm trying to go with the version I saw in a play, because thankfully they cut out the party scene which means he’s still delightfully insufferable but not awful. Anyways, he would jump on every occasion to talk to you. And then just. Stand there. He’d try to give you flowers and poems, everything really. But he loses brain cells every time he’s around you. At least you’re both equally stressed about social interactions. He gets a little braver when you give him a smile or any other sign you like him. Not less awkward, but a bit more motivated to go for it. His main problem is that he can't read you well and despite being big on feelings and all, he still has a hard time actually talking to you. Clumsily, he showers you with over the top things, that most would find cringey but you think of as endearing. And if he thinks there's a chance he’ll lose you, he’ll confess right away. I think he is brave and pretty open about feelings. Just stressed out

With Neil, it's not an issue at all that you're shy. He’s more so taken aback by his own strong feelings. Because he wasn't expecting to fall this hard. But give him like five work days to process and he’ll be all in. I feel like he would take his time to confess but he’d make it known that he cares about you. He’d be checking up on you every time he can, bringing you coffee, asking to practice lines together, go to the movies in town. Even before you two start dating you just wake up and half of his sweatshirts are in your drawer (he likes to borrow you his clothes if you’re cold) and your desk is littered with poems he shared with you. He’s a gentle lover, but he knows what he wants and when the time is right Neil has no problem confessing

It's much funnier with Cameron because this boy is in panic mode 24/7. At first he legit thought he was sick because he always felt dizzy and distracted around you. And he’s a traditionalist. Everything has to be perfect when you’re around. Like he beats himself up about every little mistake he made around you. But also makes a point to treat you RIGHT. If you’re shy he might not know how to approach you at first, because he’s not sure if you’re even interested. And how to make you like him. After much teasing (mainly from Charlie, of course) he gets fed up with his friends and decides to make a move. It might not be the most romantic when he does, but it's sweet and genuine

Another one that would take time to confess is Meeks. He’s pretty quick to accept that he’s crushing on you. He’s like, yeah obviously they are amazing, now what do I do with that? He tries to give you things. Small things. Like maybe he could borrow you a book that you’ve wanted to read for a long time of buy you a coffee/tea if you’re out in the town. He doesn't explicitly say that he liked you but it's easy to tell and he’s not one to be shy about it either. So when you guys do get together, you already know his more… romantic side

On the contrary, Charlie takes time to process his feelings. He had crushes before, but real feelings (strong ones at that) aren't the norm for him. Sometimes he catches himself losing his cool around you and it messes with him so bad. He would probably ask Knox for advice. Which is a bad move. But he figures that at least his friend is more familiar with having those sorts of feelings. Nothing much comes of it because I can't imagine Knox giving him any good advice on the subject, but after he was able to talk about liking you, he decides to just go for it. Well, in small steps. Primarily because he’s just not an intense guy, but also because he’s surprisingly mature when it comes to respecting your levels of comfort. Doesn't mean it gets boring though, it's Charlie we’re talking about. Once you get together there's not a one dull moment with him by your side

With Todd, it might be difficult at first. He’s overwhelmed by fis feelings and has a tendency to talk himself out of making any sorts of moves. Why would you like somebody like him? He tells himself he doesn't have a chance, surely. It only confirms his suspicions when you don't take initiative. It's only after he’s been moping around for a few days that Neil approaches him about it and proceeds to give him shit for not doing anything to let you know his feelings. He’s like, bro, so you care about them so much that you’d rather not have them in your life because you want them in your life so much??? Make it make sense. So with Neil's encouragement, he tries to at least talk to you and see where it goes from there. Still shocked when you end up returning his feelings. You’re in his poems now, even if it's not very obvious (he's not as straightforward as Knox, so it's not ‘i love (yn) and I want them to be mine’ kind of deal). This is the only one where I'm sure you might have to make some sort of a move. Todd’s like a spider - he’s more scared than you are and if he could, he would just silently hang out in the corner of the room you’re in. But he gets a little braver after he starts feeling more secure

Lastly, Pitts is not as bad as Todd, but still takes his time. He’s comfortable with liking you and he knows what he likes, but he’s not in any rush to make things official. So any time he has any chance to talk to you, he does and just wants to see how things go from there. He jokes around with you, asks to come study together, tries to be close. He does care, just in a more chill way than some of the other poets would. If you two have been talking for some time, he would have no problem asking you to go out with him, doesn't make you feel pressured or anything. If the others are cool with it he will do his best to have you come to their meetings at night as well. So you do not only get an awesome boyfriend out of it, but also a great friend group

#dps #dps x reader #charlie dalton x reader #knox overstreet x reader #neil perry x reader #todd anderson x reader #gerard pitts x reader #steven meeks x reader #richard cameron x reader

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

w.count: 2.4k (whoops. it got away from me)

chengsheng picks favorties, and she's not secretive about it. she's also not secretive about the fact that when you're around, it isn't baizhu either.

living in liyue for as long as you have should've meant your body was used to traversing the constant air influxes of going up and down mountains and large rock formations by now. however, contrary to what you believe to be the case, your body simply did not listen. really, it didn't listen to anything you want it to do.

it was always something. lightheadedness, severe headaches, congestion that made your eyes ache, stiff and swollen joints and muscles, small scrapes and bruises from whatever tumble you may have taken. anything that could happen always seemed to be the case with you when you walked through the door to bubu pharmacy.

it took no time at all for herbalist gui to learn your face and name. even qiqi could remember your face with her poor memory. with your regular visits, gui first suspected you were faking your aliments. of course, you could easily see how he could come to such an accusation. even you thought once or twice that you were just overthinking things, that it wasn't bad... until it was, and your conditions worsen with no kind of treatment at all.

the first time you met baizhu, you were standing rather unamused- and slightly zoned out- from yet another lecture from gui on how you need to be more careful or else you'll make the pharmacy run out of stock. he should be glad that business is practically booming with you around. instead, he was laying it on thick today... not that you were paying much attention.

"ah, so this is who the mysterious person qiqi claims needs herbs so frequently is."

you don't think you'll ever be able to forget how amused he sounded from behind you. or the look on gui's face as his boss interrupts his rambling that definitely could look like berating to anyone who wasn't used to seeing him interact with your near-daily medicine runs. you should've had a kamera on hand for such an expression.

you'll never forget exactly how awed you were to see the owner of such a renowned pharmacy for the first time either. a part of you was almost skeptical of how young he was, but then again age never equated to intelligence anyway, so that thoughtless nonsense was easily tossed out of your mind.

"yes, i guess that would be me," you sheepishly told him. "my apologies for the... neediness? for lack of better words."

"not at all. what is medicine good for if not to treat someone? it's actually quite relieving to finally put a face with a name."

"qiqi sspeakss of them sso often i almosst asssumed they were another one of her missunderstandingss." the secondary voice that no doubt came from the white snake around the doctor's neck shocked you for a moment. blinking as if taking in the absurdity of it, you easily accepted that the snake could talk.

this was teyvat where people could be born hybrids, having psychical traits of of species of being. not to mention liyue, where you knew of at least two adeptus running around the harbor. this shouldn't come as much of a shock.

"sorry about that too," the silent- i think?- you refused to tack on to the end of your sentence was left unspoken but clearly seen in your eyes. was that something to apologize for? in truth, the whole situation felt quite awkward so all you could do was talk to fill the silence. the silence that wasn't very silent anyway.

you had since stepped off to the side so gui could talk to another patron coming to pick up their prescription with the babble of the city just outside. if you didn't feel it would be rude, you would've just left and called it a day- even if you hadn't actually gotten your needed medicine from the herbalist at the desk yet. he had been too busy nagging you to hand it over before baizhu's sudden appearance.

luckily for you, baizhu was also intelligent enough he could read a room.

"please wait here. i'll go and fetch whatever medicine you need today." you make a small noise of acknowledgment before offering a small okay as he walks behind the counter and takes a paper from gui that probably had recommended herbs and salves scribbled on it for your treatment.

feeling like you just fumbled the first interaction with the pharmacy's owner, you sighed and pushed a finger to your temples before going outside. leaning yourself on the railing just outside the building, you bore yourself into counting the steps leading up to it. always getting a different answer each time since there were so many. you were so invested in your stair counting that when baizhu reappears in your peripherals with a small drawstring pouch of presumed herbs, you feel yourself flinch.

"i didn't mean to startle you," he chuckles as you gently take the pouch from him, using your other hand to dig around for the mora you know you now owe.

"it's fine. i was too engrossed in counting."

"counting?"

"the stairs."

"did you come to a final count?" he entertains.

"not even close," you say as you place the correct amount of shiny mora into his palm while watching chengsheng readjust herself by slithering once around his shoulders.

after that day, baizhu was around more often when you would stop by. your semi-normal medical pick-ups soon extend into medical treatment personally offered by baizhu in the pharmacy's back room, along with prolonged conversations to fill the free time he could offer. it was during these conversations that chengsheng decided that among the humans living in liyue, you were her favorite.

she preferred you over others so much that when you would come by the pharmacy, she would immediately demand to coil around you instead of her normal seat upon baizhu's shoulders. she would only keep to baizhu when you were around if his chi levels were running wild and she was confined to her job of maintaining them.

today was no exception to her favoritism.

you had once again shown up to bubu pharmacy, but this time not for whatever ails you, but for your annual checkup. you never used to bother with them, but shockingly enough gui had lectured you one year about it- so, to save yourself the ear strain it would be best to just get it over with.

walking up the outrageously long stairs to the pharmacy entrance, you sigh and rub your neck with a rather lackluster greeting to the open space of the front desk.

"okay gui, i'm here." you almost sigh, like keeping track with your health was such an inconvenience. dropping your arm and raising your view, you see all three of the bubu population together- which was almost rare considering they all have their own agendas to deal with near daily. "wow," you start with a smile at seeing them all, "it's like a party in here."

gui shakes his head at your lame attempt at what he assumes is a joke while qiqi abandons her post to waltz up to your side and grab the fabric that hung around your waist; a habit she's developed since you've been around more often. you're not sure why she does it, maybe it makes her feel secure or something, you weren't sure. you don't mind it regardless. you always accept her small act of presumed affection with your palm resting on her talisman tagged hat and small greeting.

baizhu blithely crosses his arms over his chest at seeing how attached qiqi has become of you. he has the hunch that even outside of the pharmacy you were pretty well-known because you were someone easily likeable, but to capture the attention of his little qiqi? color him impressed. still, he was pleased you had formed a connection with her and gui. even baizhu himself found himself enjoying your company more than he did before. each time was better than the last.

"it's lovely to see you again," the owner speaks as he uncrosses his arms into a more relaxed manner of stance. "gui informed me that you can be rather stubborn when it comes to these kinds of matters. I was worried i'd have to go and find you myself."

"i don't think you would have to go that far. even if i didn't show up today, i would've been back eventually. then you could've tied me up and thrown me into a forced state of compliance."

"that wouldn't be very hospitable of a doctor, i'm afraid."

a small tug on your hip directs your attention downwards as qiqi looks up at you.

"doctor baizhu will be taking care of you today," she says slowly, almost lethargically. you blink a few times in confusion for a moment before nodding to her.

"really now? what an a honor." it wasn't often baizhu did things like this, such common checkups were handled mostly by gui. you wonder if chengsheng kicked up some sort of fuss about it? 'nevermind,' you shake your head and internalize your thoughts, 'it doesn't matter.'

"best not to waste much more time," baizhu says, rounding the counter and coming up to your side before replacing your hand with his own on qiqi's head. "run along now, qiqi." she's quick to obey and gui returns to whatever it is he does all day long. you're ushered out and soon back to the room you've been in thousands of times before.

just like normal, you sat yourself down in one of the two stools baizhu keeps at his desk. just like normal, baizhu offers you tea for your time and just like normal you accept. just like normal, he walks back and forth along the many shelves of herbs and equipment for what he needs for the day's work. and just like normal, chengsheng is slithering down baizhu's outstretched arm, onto the desk and then quickly up yours as you offer it to her.

"aw, i've missed you too chengsheng," you coo. she always hisses when you treat her like a common snake, but it wasn't like she was going to do anything about it. another perk of being the favorite.

"it'ss just nicce to not be coiled around a man who smellss like grasss all the time," she plays off as she coils comfortably around your shoulders and even curling up your head to pass through your hair. most definitely forming knots in her wake.

as baizhu comes back to your side, you watch as he places his required items down.

"it never gets easier," you say.

"and what exactly are you talking about?"

"how... empty you look without chengsheng."

baizhu chuckles.

"yes, well, it feels as empty as it looks." he looks at the pearl white snake around you, clearly nuzzling into you more than him, and he smiles warmly at it. "she looks much better wrapped around you, than me."

"uh-huh," you scoff, bringing your palm up to cup her head and lightly nudging her away from your ear. she was making your skin tingle with her scales against the small sensitive limb. "i totally believe you."

"i've never spoken a word of a lie to you."

you always applaud yourself for not absolutely losing your cool for the things that could come out of baizhu's mouth. the way he can easily say things that were well past embarrassing without so much as blinking was almost awe-inspiring. if you didn't know any better, you'd think sometimes he was flirting with you- but it was baizhu and he was always kind and polite to anyone. that was just who he was.

your checkup runs smoothly and even though nothing can fix your accident-prone lifestyle, you were still healthy and ready to take on more scraps and falls.

now, the hardest part of every pharmacy visit was about to commence. convincing chengsheng to return to her contractor without much fuss.

"chengsheng," you nervously say her name with a slight shake in your voice. she was always a sassy snake, but when she didn't get to indulge in what she wanted, which was simply snuggly laying around your shoulders for just a while longer... she could be a handful. "you know you can't leave with me."

she meets you nowhere with silence- not even attempting to meet you halfway somewhere. nope, she's leaving you high and dry. baizhu watches with half amused eyes, a hand on his hip and the other reached out to brush against her scales.

"what if i walked our dear y/n home? would you willingly part with them then?"

"what?" baizhu had never walked you home before, you always insisted he not since he was a busy man, and it wasn't like you couldn't take care of yourself. this opportunity easily hooked the snake's attention as she lifted her previously curled head and looked at her contractor- you know, the man she was supposed to be unwaveringly loyal to.

"do we have a deal?" he chided, knowing that eventually she was going to let you go one way or the other. whether it be now by him prying her off you physically or walking you home and having her come back willingly. her forked tongue flicked out before coiling one full rotation around your neck and up your head, so her reptilian 'chin' sat on your crown.

"if i must," which was chengsheng for 'yes, we do'.

so, with you and chengsheng waiting at the top of the stone stairs, baizhu popped inside to inform gui and qiqi he would be stepping out for a bit. qiqi had peaked around the open front and waved goodbye to you, which you returned happily before baizhu came to your side. his hand came to hover at your back, so close you could almost feel his palm but never actually touching, and offered you start taking steps ahead of him.

back from inside the pharmcy at the desk, qiqi walked back to gui's side as they both watched their boss walk off with you.

"qiqi likes when y/n is around," she speaks monotonously- but she meant it.

"yeah," gui agrees, watching both your heads disappear further down the stairs with chengsheng still clinging to you. "you aren't the only one," he chuckles.

chengsheng picks favorties, and she's not secretive about it. her contractor, however- even if he thinks he's being slick about it- cannot hide that he does too.

and wouldn't you believe it? all evidence always leads back to you.

#genshin impact #baizhu x reader #baizhu fluff #baizhu genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #baizhu x y/n #baizhu x you #genshin impact baizhu #baizhu headcanons #baizhu drabble #baizhu fic

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: Sand's crushing reality 'It's never about me'

I've noticed a lot of comments wishing Sand could be open about his feelings for Ray. Though that's a fair assessment and would save us a tonne of agony, I've attempted to delve into why this isn't so simple.

The Weight of Dignity & Mutual Respect

Sand comes across as someone who highly values dignity. Everyone deserves to be treated with due respect, and this is seen through how he interacts with others. Sand gets upset when someone questions his integrity, such as when Ray insinuates him to be a thief or questions him for bootlegging alcohol. He gets angry when someone tries to hurt Ray whilst his back is turned. Sand lives his life by an honourable and respectful philosophy, and the least he expects is for others to treat him the same way.

Therefore it's understandable that he hates being treated like a fool (whether that's being taken advantage of, humiliated or subjected to unwarranted judgement).

Ray has consistently maintained that he doesn't see Sand as a boyfriend. Said so himself, repeatedly. (Despite his actions indicating otherwise but that's another post in itself). So if Sand were to reveal his feelings, when he has no definitive confirmation that Ray is taking any of this seriously, he's going to risk feeling incredibly exposed and ridiculous. One of the reasons why rejection is so painful is due to the shame that comes with it. A hit of crippling inadequacy and embarrassment. Being confronted with: 'You're not good enough for me. You don't meet my standards. You're not what I want'.

Sand has probably had to experience a fair amount of falling short. To be lesser than, but largely due to means outside his control. He's been able to rise above those things. However, with Ray, he's not comfortable being in a position where he may be stripped of his dignity.

Boston being the one who dropped the bombshell is what made Sand feel incredibly stupid. For not knowing. For not being told. Which was arguably 100% times worse than hearing it from Ray himself. To be treated with respect is hoping someone will see you as an equal. Regardless of whether they are more than friends - even just between friends, Ray has never alluded to this. (To be fair, he may have been close, but now we'll never know). In that moment, it dawns on Sand how little he knows of Ray.

My belief is that if he were aware of Ray still being in love with Mew, he wouldn't make a move. Because that wouldn't be the honourable or respectful thing to do. So he’s been led to indulge in a fantasy that was never going to materialise. He wasn't in the loop. No one clued him in. He's not been treated equal. He feels like the butt of a bad joke. How could he possibly open up to Ray after that?

The 'Brave Face' of a Caretaker

Sand is a man defined by responsibility. Due to having only one parent in his life, he's learnt to be his mother's rock; resilient and steadfast. The sacrifice of having a caretaker mentality is that your own wellbeing is often an afterthought. How frequently do these types of people in our lives get asked how they feel. How are they doing? They're so busy taking care of everyone else or taking care of 'business', that no one ever thinks to ask. Their cries for help are much quieter, much less obvious and go undetected.

Though Sand is not the best at hiding it, he'll quickly distract others from his own disappointment, upset and hurt for the sake of greater harmony or in consideration of someone else's feelings. 'It's not about me', he seems to remind himself. 'I've got to keep it together. I've got be strong. There's a lot resting on me'.

Caretakers need others to take notice of them. To see past their seemingly infallible façade. They need others to initiate care and concern because they won’t put themselves first. Though Sand's mother evidently adores him, he’s clearly established a dynamic where he takes care of her. So who takes care of Sand? No one. He's on his own. He has no choice but to suck it up when things get tough and move forward as best he can. Life isn't going to stop for him.

Though hugely rattled, Sand immediately diffuses the fight. No questions, no demands that Ray explain himself. He’s still protective of Ray. No matter what happens, he comes second.

The Fault is Yours

Sand really desires someone to see him as 'special', as extraordinary. His life often revolves around others, so if he’s someone else’s priority, that will be a sign. This is why Sand was so affected by Ray passing him up for someone else - he felt expendable.

The gut-wrenching thing about Sand is he doesn't target blame onto others. He doesn't resent his father (who has no idea of his existence). He doesn't resent his mother (who wasn't able to give him a good start in life). He doesn't even resent Ray when he finds out about Mew (because Ray knew Mew first). Instead Sand internalises hardship as a reflection on himself. The reason why Ray can't see him as a boyfriend must be a product of his own shortcomings. Perhaps he's unworthy of someone like Ray to begin with. Boston makes a passing comment that men with Ray's looks and wealth are hard to come by. Sand doesn't need to be reminded that Ray has options. Access to more options besides him.

Things were never handed to Sand on a silver platter, and so he isn't one to assume anything. Don't assume Ray's feelings even if you have a hunch. Don't assume that Ray will fight for you. Don't assume that when push comes to shove, Ray will choose you. Because who are you to assume those things?

It's one thing to be told you can't have something. But it's another to feel like you don't deserve something. As if you never had the right. Never had a chance.

The fault is yours for thinking you did.

Because you're simply not that special.

(Note: So I'm going to need to see a situation where Ray takes care of Sand please. The boy needs it. He needs someone to fight for him for a change. Bear in mind this is just an analysis of what Sand may be feeling. A lot of these assumptions are untrue as Ray does care. But Sand doesn't know what to think anymore.)

#only friends #only friends the series #ofts #only friends meta #ray x sand #sand x ray #sand #firstkhao #khaofirst #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #protect him please #god sand absolutely broke my heart this episode #he needs a hug #sand really doesn't have anyone to lean on #he carries so much on his own shoulders

[sehodreams]

which riize members are sugar babies vs sugar daddies?

This is one of my favorite concepts, thank you!

TW and tags: MDNI, sexual content, sugar daddy!riize, sugar baby!riize, all consensual.

SUGAR DADDIES

Eunseok

The ultimate sugar daddy, the daddiest of daddies, he lives to take care of you, to check you're always happy and satisfied, shopping springs whenever you want, traveling the world next to him and everything you want it's immediately yours. The only thing he wants from you? For you to always have a smile on your face, welcome him with your warm and do everything he says.

A bit toxic though, he doesn't want any man that's not him to talk to you or even breath the same air as you, he wants texts from you always telling him where you are and what are you doing, and you better tell him the true, because if you lie, he'll find out, and when he's angry he's not the same man.

If he fucked you when he was happy, he'd treat you with su much care, not wanting lo leave a single mark in your smooth skin, "that's my girl, always being so good" he'd smile, but if you were bad, lying to him about your whereabouts, he'd leave marks everywhere, for everyone to see that you had an owner, and forget about him calling you his good girl again, "slut, what I give you is not enough? What do you need from him that I can't give you? Fucking bitch" he'd pull your hair, your back pressing his chest and your legs open, to leave as many hickeys on your neck as he could while pressing the vibrator to your cunt, you begging for him to forgive you "I'm sorry daddy, I didn't mean to, I don't know what I was thinking" you'd cry after he denied your orgasm for the fourth time, always moving the toy away when you were about to cum, "of course you weren't thinking, but this is what happens to bad girls who don't think, they get punished".

Anton

He's always lived comfortable, and he knows how good it feels to be taken care of, he likes it, and he wants you to live exactly the same way, or even better. He may be young, and if you're younger it's okay, but he'd like to take care even of an older partner. He'd do anything to convince you to accept his money and gifts, he'd give you his card after some time, but it started with small things, like you asking for insignificant things like a coffee, or some material for school, and he'd send you at least four times the amount you needed. Then, he'd fight to pay your rent and school, slowly talking to you into becoming his sugar baby until you finally accepted his help, and you'd do it only because you realize he really, REALLY, wants to treat you like that, almost like a need.

He didn't expect anything from you in return, only your loyalty and your presence in his life, but after seeing how much he likes to see your needs fulfilled, you just want to reciprocate the care, so you'd always give your best in bed, his favorite position was with you riding his cock because that way he'd have your beautiful chest in front of his face, and you'd do it without complain everytime he came to the place he rented for you, or on the couch he bought for you, saying "thank you daddy, I like this place so much", because it doesn't matter your age, he's your daddy, and he'd cum only from hearing you, saying, "you deserve it baby, you deserve everything"

Shotaro

His case is a little special, he likes to take care of you, of course, but more than that, he lives to spoil you. He'd sent you money even to share with your friends, you're doing a group project? Baby take this and buy everyone's coffee, you want to travel? Honey take this card and stay in a nice hotel, if you want company invite your friends too. he just wants to spoil you to the core, you're the best gift for him, and if he has all that money, it must be to spoil you, right?

When you thanked him everytime you met, falling to your knees and opening his belt to suck his cock, he'd pet your hair, smiling and helping you with it so you could be more comfortable, saying "that's my precious baby, always getting what she wants", because you both know that, more than him, you're the one who needs his dick inside your mouth to feel happy.

SUGAR BABIES

Sohee

This baby has always worked so hard, when you met him he was so exhausted from his part time jobs that he knew he didn't need a partner, but he couldn't help and fell for you, and look at that sweet face, you never thought about treating someone like that, but buying things for him came to you naturally, and when he tried to buy things for you too, you didn't let him, even less anything expensive, doesn't matter the occasion. You only want him to live with that beautiful smile on his face, and you wouldn't be afraid of spending as much as he needed, you had that high position and that salary for a reason.

He'd be so uncomfortable at first, feeling his pride a bit hurt, because when he met you he didn't want you to see him like a boy that needs to be taken care of, he wanted you to see him as a man, and it would take time, but you'd show him, little by little, that what you liked the most was to see him well dressed, feed and happy, and it's not like you don't expect anything from him, you expect him to always be there for you and give you the support you couldn't get from anyone else.

In bed you'd whisper to his ear when he fucked you, "so good baby, that's my boy, always taken care of me" and then he'd feel like everything is where should it be, your card in his wallet, his stuff in your apartment, and you under him.

Wonbin

This manwhore knows he's pretty and knows he can get whatever he wants with his face, but it was different to recieve things from you than with his other partners, he knew you had drawn a limit with him, you weren't in love, and you didn't want him to fall in love with you neither, which made him, as stupid as it sounded, want you even more.

It was like, it started because of his own needs, but now all he thinks about is what can he do for you. You give him gifts, you pay his expenses and tell him he can get anything he wants, but he only wants your time, your praise and your hands touching him, it didn't matter where, holding hands outside, petting his hair when he watched a movie, or making him cry while touching the tip of his leaking cock, he just wanted all your attention on him.

It was so hard to get you all for himself, there wasn't anything more satisfying than you telling him you could spend the day together, and you would like to take him out shopping and to nice restaurants, but what he wants is to stay in your house, drink one your expensive wines, to then have you sitting on his face, or you to let him fuck your sweet pussy that he missed so much the days he couldn't see you, "I can go shopping any day, but I can't have you with me all the time, please just use me when we're alone, please".

Sungchan

This big boy loves gifts, and you love to see you pretty boy all dolled up, wearing nice clothes and looking gorgeous next to you. However, it's important to clarify that he only likes gifts from you, he only wants to be spoiled by you, and he's the one who is more into you.

When you met you didn't pay him any attention, he was just the pretty boy who worked in the cafeteria inside your office building, and you didn't have the time to pay attention to anyone who wasn't you or your client. He, on the other hand, always followed you with his eyes, and not only because of how elegant you looked, but how cold and kind you were at the same time, you never smiled at him, but you always said thank you, and he never expected you to remember him, but when one day he was crying behind the office, and you caught him when you wanted to have your daily cigarette, you talked to him with so much delicacy he'd never forget it "everyone has it hard at first, it's everyone's first life, so don't worry, things get better with time".

And it was true, things did get better with time, you offered to take care of him while he was in school, and he accepted because he needed it, but also because he wanted to be as near you as possible, wiped with your beauty and charm, he liked to be spoiled by you, and he loved to help you forget all the stress from work when you were together. "Always so pretty, please let me take care of you too" he'd say, pressing his fingers inside you before fucking you hard into oblivion, rutting your insides and watching you cry under him, making you dumb with his cock, so different from your usual put together look.

Seunghan

I can't help but see this boy following you around like a puppy, hugging your arm and saying "Noona, what do you think of this bag? Please buy it for me" with that cheeky smile, and you'd pull out your card to buy anything he asked for. He loves to be spoiled, and you love the smile he has after you buy him what he wants. You don't give him your card, but you always sent him money, and in exchange he sends you pictures of him doing his usual stuff, a picture of him in the cab he takes to school instead of the uncomfortable bus, pictures of him drinking coffee and studying, of him sweaty after playing basketball with his friends, he'd just sent you pictures of him doing everything, only expecting your daily good night.

He doesn't mind that you don't send him pictures of you, or that you don't answer him that much, because he knows how you smile when you see his pretty face on your phone, and that's enough for him, he knows your busy.

In bed, however, he needs to hear your voice all the time, "please tell me I'm doing good Noona", and he'd also be as spoiled as always "can I cum inside please? Please, please, I've been doing so good in school, please give me my prize", and how could you say no to that sweet face, anything for your baby.

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #riize smut #anton x reader #eunseok x reader #sungchan x reader #wonbin x reader #seunghan x reader #shotaro x reader #sohee x reader #anton smut #eunseok smut #sungchan smut #wonbin smut #seunghan smut #shotaro smut #sohee smut

[mizading]

UPPER MOON YANDERE HEADCANONS~ PT.2

Characters: Muzan, Gyutaro, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, Gyokko, Kaigaku.

A/N:  I would like to thank Yoshinohirmet for the request! I thoroughly enjoyed adding to my Yandere Upper Moon series. As for my readers, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the love. Take care of yourselves and enjoy <3

Warnings : Verbal abuse, Physical abuse, violence, obsession, Yandere themes, etc. 

Muzan ・❥・

Muzan, a man with a twisted secret.

You’re the one chosen to take on the role of the demon's wife.

Muzan's obsession won’t be known.

As far as you know, you’re only here to maintain his facade of a perfect family.

Your only job is to help him live a "normal" life and keep his true identity hidden.

Deep down, a twisted spiral of obsession consumes Muzan slowly but entirely.

Although you serve a purpose that benefits Muzan, it’s merely an appropriate excuse for Muzan to get close to you.

Something about you is as intoxicating as his desire for the blue spider lily.

He himself can’t explain his unhealthy attraction to you.

Each day, he loses more and more control over this dark passion that burns inside.

Muzan needs you entirely. He’ll tell you lies until his last breath, just to keep you dependent.

You need him; you’re merely nothing without Muzan. You serve no purpose other than being his.

Muzan prefers to silently watch and stalk.

Seeing you exist and your movements, untainted by the presence of another, satisfies his desire ever so slightly.

Muzan just loves the way you exist naturally when nobody is around. Everything about you is fascinating. The way your eyebrows furrow while reading, the way you bite your lip when focusing, how your right eye is a bit wider when you smile—he loves it all.

In your eyes, you disgust Muzan. You serve no purpose other than being his "wife". He barely speaks to you, let alone acknowledges your presence.

At least, that is what you believe.

Muzan will slip one day. He can’t keep pretending that his body doesn’t yearn for you. He’s slowly losing control.

Muzan's spiral of hidden obsession will eventually engulf you both.

Gyutaro ・❥・

You’re the only thing that Gyutaro has—the only possession of his that is worth anything.

If Gyutaro doesn’t have you, he has less than nothing.

Nights would be spent with him obsessively touching and admiring you.

Over-the-top praise would be whispered in your ear as his fingers shakily traced your supple skin.

Gyutaro has a meal schedule set in place for you.

He desperately needs to see you in the best condition possible; he knows more than anyone what it’s like to almost die from starvation.

Gyutaro treats you as a trophy to show off, his little pretty lover.

Although he doesn’t take well to other men or women staring at or touching you.

One gaze that lasts too long from another sends Gyutaro into a blinding rage.

Gyutaro has a lingering fear that you'll see someone who meets your unattainable level.

He won’t ever have the only thing that he has in his pathetic life taken from him.

Gyutaro secretly craves your acceptance—just a small reassurance that he isn’t the scum of the earth.

Deep down, he fantasizes about being attractive and finally being able to proudly call himself your lover without utter shame and embarrassment.

Gyutaros strength is the only thing he has an ounce of confidence in.

He may never be able to compare to something as small as your hand when it comes to looks, but he can protect you proudly.

Gyutaro will gladly give up his life for you over and over again.

Sekido ・❥・

Not a soul was safe from Sekido’s wrath, but you were somehow the exception?

You were on a mission with other demon-slayers when you first met him.

Your existence hypnotized Sekido; every movement of yours made his own existence worthless to him.

All that mattered in the moment was you.

Your comrades were killed in no time; as for you? He didn’t lay a single hand on you.

All attempts to hurt Sekido were futile.

Sekido doesn’t want to take you by force, but he will if he has to.

Sekido would take you into hiding. For now, he wants you to himself with nobody to interfere.

Months would be spent with him in the forest.

Days consist of him admiring you, trying to figure out what's so special about you.

Why do you make him feel this way?

Sekido wouldn’t force physical contact until his emotions were too much to bear; he'd hold out for as long as possible.

Once he actually gets his hands on you, it’s hard for him to control himself.

Sekido isn’t exactly gentle with you; he has too much pent-up anger, but he tries.

Disobeying in any form earns you verbal abuse or physical restraint.

Don’t test Sekido; he can’t always control himself.

Urogi ・❥・

You make excitement run its course through Urogi’s body.

Such a beautiful specimen you were through his eyes.

Urogis feathers can’t help but ruffle at the thought of you belonging to him.

His sizable wings would wrap around you tightly, preventing you from leaving as he dragged you to a new location.

Somewhere, the two of you could stay together for as long as you both live.

Seeing the fear in your eyes, hearing your screams, and watching your hopeless attempts to escape makes his fire of excitement burn brighter.

Urogi knows that such a smart and beautiful person as you would soon understand that he is what's best for you.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever come close to his love.

Attempt to escape, and you’re wrapped in his soft but chilling wings again.

"Can’t you see how good I am for you? Keep up this bad behavior; you’re making things much more exciting."

Urogi wouldn’t use any of his abilities on you; he doesn’t need to.

His physical strength alone is enough to keep you his. It’s much more entertaining this way.

The way Urogi scans your body using his blinding yellow eyes with a soft but chilling smile on his face makes you weak in the knees.

He’s expresses nothing but joy and excitement, no matter what you attempt to do.

There is something awfully off about Urogi; he knows this, and you know this.

Karaku ・❥・

Karakus's obsessiveness is only natural; it goes hand in hand with pleasure.

There have been many that Karaku has been fond of, but nobody could dare touch your level.

The way your little face scrunches up with determination while you swing useless slashes at him drives Karaku crazy.

Your hopelessness is so precious to him.

Karaku pays an awful amount of attention to your body; the way you maneuver fascinates him.

Karaku thoroughly enjoys touching you unexpectedly; he simply does it to see the way your body reacts.

You’re basically Karaku's doll, his new porcelain doll wrapped in plastic.

He’ll do anything in his power to make you completely dependent on him and him alone.

Karaku breaking and molding you into his little dependent doll is only a cover-up for how much he needs you.

If you need him, he won’t ever have to worry about the one thing he needs most escaping from his grasp.

It takes much effort to make Karaku the slightest bit unhappy.

Throw a tantrum? He thinks it's cute.

Hurt him? He enjoys pinning you down, Karaku will put up with all of your antics.

The only thing that can manage to set off Karaku is trying to escape.

Attempting to escape his grasp drives him mad; why would you ever try to leave him?

Karaku will hunt you down until the second he takes his last breath.

Gyokko ・❥・

You were the first thing to make Gyokko pause in awe, besides his own vases.

A mere human with beauty that puts one of his vases to shame? Gyokko couldn’t wrap his mind around the phenomenon.

Gyokko spent a couple of weeks stalking you from the shadows.

He needed to capture your beauty somewhere, and that somewhere was on a vase.

Gyokko spends hours studying your features, painting out every little detail of your existence on an empty vase.

Your essence needed to be captured permanently.

Gyokko wants nothing more than to show you his work—just something, anything that’ll impress you.

All he wants is your validation—to make you pause in awe just as much as he did when he first laid eyes on you.

Deep down, Gyokko knows better; he shouldn’t dare show himself.

He has just enough sense left to acknowledge his form, half of his body encapsulated in a vase, and a terrifying face as a cherry on top.

Gyokko only has enough confidence to watch you silently from the depths of the night.

By now, there are at least fifty vases, all in your name.

Gyokko quenches his heart's desire for you by admiring you on his vases; it’s almost as if you’re really there.

Somehow, someday Gyokko will have you posing right before his eyes as he paints every inch of you.

Kaigaku ・❥・

On the outside, Kaigaku is seen as an arrogant narcissist.

What lies inside is someone insecure, who craves your acceptance more than anything.

Kaigaku ingrained your low worth compared to him into your head.

This is the only way he knows how to keep you by his side for as long as you live.

If you continue to stray, Kaigaku will resort to physical violence.

He knows no better; this is the only way in his clouded mind.

There are moments where Kaigaku gets slightly vulnerable.

This typically only happens after a battle.

Kaigaku will spend hours on end begging for your acceptance.

The demon only wants to hear that he still has a purpose, even if it's minor.

His vulnerability is hidden once more the next day.

Kaigaku will return to his verbally abusive ways, denying anything that happened the night before.

Kaigaku's only worry is that you'll see through his facade.

He can’t bear the thought of you seeing him for who he truly is.

Until that day comes, Kaigaku will force you to be by his side.

With him, you are nothing more than his puppet.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #writing #anime #demon slayer x reader #12 kizuki #sekido #urogi #karaku #gyutaro #gyokko #kaigaku #yandere demon slayer #yandere demon x reader #upper moons #muzan x reader

[koqabear]

✧˚ · . loving you quietly

✩ Playlist ✩

“Beomgyu was taught that actions speak louder than words— he’s grown to care for others in that way, but when he finally decides to let his heart speak for once, he learns that it may have been better to remain silent instead.”

“can you hear it? my heart calls for you. i’ve been here, waiting patiently all along.”

beomgyu x gn!reader [ft. Yeonjun and Sunghoon of Enhypen]

Genre: fluff, angst, f2l, idiots to lovers, slowburn

Word count 12.4k

Warnings: mentions of food, lots of (fake) arguments n stuff, mc has a bit of anxiety, panic attacks/overstimulation, mentions of past toxic relationships, lack of proper communication, they’re both idiots please be patient with them. (lemme know if I should add anything!)

Notes: the Beomgyu brain rot got me again, enjoy and leave me silly little comment if u want me to think about u for the rest of the day ^_^

beomgyu: idk how to flirt i done called them a bitch

It’s no secret your relationship with Beomgyu is peculiar. 

Out of everyone else in your friend group, you’d think the two of you would get along the most— same hobbies, same interests, your playlists containing all the same songs every time you go to get aux in the car— yet if anything, your friends have all learned to keep the two of you at least three feet apart at all times. 

It’s not like you seriously hate each other— at least, you’d hope not— but it just seems that you’ve both taken quite the liking to treat each other in a much more harsh, unforgiving way.

“That sweater is hideous,” Beomgyu comments, staring you down with those same puppy eyes he always uses to get what he wants. He doesn’t flinch at the glare you send him, gritting your teeth as you watch him take an innocent sip of his shake; your lack of response only fuels him further, his lips twitching in amusement as he pulls away from his straw with a loud pop! 

“It’s so tacky.” 

Personally, you didn’t expect to be accosted over your comfort sweater in a Steak ‘n Shake on a random Tuesday. Yet here you are, letting out an offended gasp as you pat down your sweater in a self-reassuring manner; sure, the color and pattern aren’t exactly the most pleasing to the eye, but you were lazy and didn’t feel like doing your laundry just yet— if anything, you’re sure you could find a think piece like this in Beomgyu’s closet— or rather a few, to be realistic. 

“I know you’re not one to talk,” you begin, your friends sighing and rolling their eyes as they watch your antics ensue. Once you got started, you never stopped; it truly didn’t help that you were so easily provoked, either, “Don’t think I forgot about the time you dressed like Adam Sandler for a straight week.”

“It was summer and the AC was broken!” Beomgyu perks up immediately at your comment, his ears turning red as he turns to his roommate for help; Soobin simply shakes his head, leaving Beomgyu to his defeat as he turns his focus to the fries in front of him— though you don’t miss the way his dimples poke through his cheeks as he bows his head down, a soft huff escaping him as he tries to hide his obvious laugh. 

It isn’t long before you get lost in the argument; you’re not even sure if you’re making sense anymore, all logic thrown out the window as you begin to threaten Beomgyu that you’ll fight him in the parking lot this instant if he doesn’t watch his mouth— and like always, he’s never one to back down— it isn’t until you’re both chugging your shakes and telling the other to get ready that your friends finally decide to intervene. 

Even as you finally settle down and head back to Soobin’s car, you’re still able to catch Beomgyu casting you stupid looks and sticking his tongue out at you childishly— you would’ve been quick to return the gesture if Taehyun hadn’t smacked him clean upside the head, telling him to “behave” as Beomgyu quickly gave him a look that resembled a kicked puppy. 

You’d like to think that you would’ve won the fight— Beomgyu’s hair is pretty grabbable, but you’re sure you would’ve left the battle with a couple of bites on your body; even then, Beomgyu is the least active in the friend group, so you’re sure you could’ve easily tired him out— an easy win for you.

(That, and the fact that Beomgyu is incapable of hurting anyone he cares about.)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Being left alone with Beomgyu is not recommended. 

It’s not ideal either, and you’ve come to learn this the hard way; without a mediator there to put up with your antics, there’s truly no way to tell what’ll happen if you’re left alone for longer than five minutes.

You’ve decided to be alone today, your back aching and your muscles becoming numb as you sit in the library, poring over your computer as you feel your vision slowly blurring; you’re almost done with your assignment, yet you can’t help but feel that all these hours of being cooped up inside have come back to haunt you as you feel an ache forming behind your eyes, the words before you becoming nonsensical as your brain slowly turns off. 

Once you get in the zone, it’s hard for you to get out of it— you never know when you’ll be able to focus this much again, so you use it to your advantage and try to make it last as long as you can. But it’s draining, and you often find yourself strained by the time you finish— but you’ve worked so hard and you’re almost finished, you’re sure that if you push through the pain a little longer you’ll be able to focus again, right?

Your efforts come to a shattering stop as you feel a tug at your hair, insistent and childish as you try to shrug it off— all you get in return is a flat hand slapping on the top of your head, tilting your head back until you’re stuck staring at the ceiling. 

“I’m hungry.”

“How did you find me.” 

You’re not sure why that’s your first reaction, but the sight of Beomgyu hovering over your eyes, upside down and pouting, makes you slump back in your chair in defeat— out of all the outcomes and people that could have found you, this one’s definitely the worst. 

“You weren’t at the dormmmsss,” he whines, petulant as ever as he jolts your head around annoyingly; his grip is firm on your head, and it takes a sharp slap to the back of his hand for him to pull away, watching him kiss the stinging area softly as you ignore the looks you get from the people around you.

“Okay? Didn’t you stop to think that it was for a reason?” You say, twisting around in your chair to face him; you’re quickly backing away as he’s leaning in, sharp eyes glaring at you as he lowers his volume. 

“I wanted to go to that one place you took us last week, but I forgot what it was called— I had something really good but I don’t remember what it was.” He doesn’t seem phased by the puzzled look you send him; your face is scrunching up and you’re left in disbelief as you tilt your head, pursing your lips as you wonder what he could be talking about.

“You mean Steak ‘n Shake?”

You don’t miss the way his eyes widen at the sound of the very popular and well-known fast-food chain; his face feels hot as he clears his throat, shaking his head softly as he sighs. 

“N—no… the other one.” His response doesn’t help at all; you’re sure you’ll get wrinkles with the way you’re frowning, truly trying to give him the benefit of the doubt before you’re left at a dead end after a moment.

“That was the only place I suggested.” 

“Really? I could’ve sworn there was some other place,” he’s innocent as he straightens his posture, no longer leaning down to talk to you as he runs an impatient hand through his hair. His gaze is fleeting around the room as he goes quiet, the gears clearly being put at work in his head as he finally concludes,“Whatever. Take me there.”

“What? No, I’m busy,” you say, gesturing to your computer behind you as you give him an incredulous look. He simply scoffs carelessly, stepping closer to you until he’s reaching over, shutting your computer clumsily before he’s shoving it in your bag. You’re not sure of what else to do but run after him as he scurries away with your belongings, ignoring your hushed yells for him to stop as he simply glances back at you; his pace quickens shortly after.

It isn’t until you’re exiting the library that you finally allow yourself to run after him, curses and insults escaping you left and right as he suddenly gains an impeccable speed— you choose to chalk it all up to the fact that you’ve been cooped up inside all day, your energy well drained while Beomgyu has more than enough to spare. 

“Wait!” You call out, thankful that the area is empty as you push through and chase after him; it’s ridiculous how he already managed to gain such a distance between you two, and your body is already giving in as you huff tiredly, your pace slowing to nothing more than a tired waddle, “you don’t even know where you’re going!” 

Only then does Beomgyu give in to your cries; he’s sheepish as he turns around, an innocent grin on his face as he hugs your belongings close to his chest. Even though he’s well off in the distance, you can still see his reluctance to return to you as he looks down at his shoes shyly— but you know better than to fall for that act. 

“It’s this way, dumbass,” you sigh, your feet aching as you turn around without another word. You refuse to admit defeat as you begin walking, annoyed that you allowed Beomgyu to get his way again as you try to appreciate the beautiful spring day instead. You don’t need to look back to know that Beomgyu is hot on your trail, his puppy-like antics never failing him as the sound of his shoes scuffing against the pavement reaches your ears; it isn’t long before Beomgyu catches up to you, skipping. His hair is bouncy and fluffy as he wears a leisurely smile, not phased in the slightest by the dirty look you send him— his reaction time is godly as he manages to dodge your quick hand that went to snatch your bag back from him. 

“Why did you come bother me,” you grumble, slowing to a stop as you wait for your chance to cross the street; the pedestrian light remains red as you lean against the traffic light pole, crossing your arms as you send Beomgyu another irritated look, “like, be honest, you could’ve just bothered Soobin or something.” 

“He kicked me out,” he pouts, whining about the way Soobin called him a “horrible distraction”— you can’t blame him, but you’re also a bit angry that he managed to bring the problem to you instead— “and I didn’t wanna go alone. Plus I’m really craving a cookies-and-cream shake right now.”

“So you do remember,” is all you say, referring to Beomgyu’s shenanigans with the restaurant as you push yourself off the pole. He remains silent, a soft pout on his face as he walks ahead the moment traffic is cleared, leaving you behind as you’re left to scoff at his actions. 

Beomgyu also remembered that you have a habit of studying until your body gives out, ignoring your needs with ease— which worries him to death— but you really don’t need to know that. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You think studying really did a number on you today.

At least, that must be what’s showing on your face if it has Beomgyu toning down his annoyingness drastically, going as far as to open the door for you and not react to your snarky comment about how much of a gentleman he was. It’s a bit unnerving really, even when Beomgyu decides to pay for your food despite him always attempting to trick you into treating him every time you go out— you’re surprised that he isn’t asking you to Venmo him immediately after you sit at a table. 

There’s something strange about today; you can’t really pinpoint what it is as you find yourself having a civilized conversation with Beomgyu, surprised that you’ve made it to the twenty-minute mark without arguing to the point where you’ve received concerned looks from the patrons around you.

“Do you think I’m dying or something?” You finally blurt out, watching as Beomgyu sends you a confused look, in the middle of taking a sip from his shake as he tilts his head in curiosity. “I mean like, why aren’t we fighting right now— why are you being nice.” 

He seems reluctant to respond at that; his eyes have flickered back down to the melting whipped cream topped with cookie crumbles as he feels your stare burn into him, unsure of what to say as he gulps nervously, the shake slowly disappearing until he’s drunk more than half; even then, you persist, leaning on the table as you try to lower your face to meet his eyesight, lowering more and more until your cheek is hovering over the surface of the table. Beomgyu sighs, pulling away slowly as he urges you to sit up annoyingly. 

“I don’t know, I guess I just felt bad,” he grumbles, the words feeling jagged and odd in his mouth as he forces himself to spit it out, “You kinda did look like you were dying back at the library, honestly.” 

The sassy man that has haunted your life has finally returned; it’s oddly relieving as you find yourself falling back into your antics, scoffing at his words as you throw your straw wrapper at him. 

“Okay, rude,” you say, watching the way he plays with the trash you threw at him, “I didn’t exactly ask you to come bother me, either.” 

“I know,” Beomgyu says, tilting his head as he reaches over to steal your food; even as you swat at his hands and scold him, he still manages to take a hefty amount of fries from you, a burning need to beat him up lighting inside you as you swat at his hand one last time for good measure. 

“But I just love messing with you.” 

It’s so strange that a sentence like that would affect you— yet, the feelings that stir within you definitely aren’t normal, and the way you stutter when you spit out an insult definitely isn’t either. The emotion is strange and short-lived as you refuse to dwell on it, clearing your throat as you go to kick Beomgyu under the table; it’s easier to pretend like nothing happened when you’re too busy fighting the boy before you. 

The air between you has shifted back to its usual state as Beomgyu quickly gives up on being nice, his childish antics much more welcoming as he tries to steal your drink on the way out; it takes a firm punch to his arm for him to back off, your annoyance evident on your face as you make your way back to the dorms in hopes of getting rid of this clingy mess before you. 

“Hey,” your space is quickly invaded as you turn to the source of the sound, the warmth that was spreading through your chest quickly being snubbed out at the sight of the man that’s trying to approach you; Sunghoon’s mischievous grin is dreadfully familiar as he catches up to you much too quickly, unable to find an escape as you simply smile nervously. 

“Hey,” you grimace, the grip on your drink tightening as you avoid looking into your ex’s eyes, “what’s up?” 

“Oh nothing, I just wanted to see how you were doing,” he says, taking yet another step closer as you find yourself gulping uncomfortably, “you haven’t answered any of my messages, you know.” 

It wasn’t a surprise to find that Sunghoon still hadn’t given up on you; it was a trait you admired once, but after the two of you broke up you quickly found that the endearing characteristic had quickly turned into your worst nightmare. So here you stand, laughing awkwardly as you try to cycle through the countless excuses you’ve given him every time he’d tried to come up to you. 

“Dude, can you just back off? They’re not interested,” you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Beomgyu this serious as he glares at Sunghoon; your eyes are widening at the sudden hostility he’s displaying, smiling nervously as you go to intervene, knowing how quickly Sunghoon can escalate things. 

“You’re kidding,” Sunghoon scoffs, unable to let you speak as he’s rolling his eyes, taking in the way Beomgyu stands behind you protectively, “how ‘bout you back the fuck out of our business?”

You’re quick to step in as Beomgyu goes to say something else, placing a firm hand on his arm as you send Sunghoon a sharp glare. The man doesn’t seem to be phased by your antics, sighing heavily instead as he takes in the way Beomgyu still follows you around pathetically.

“Sunghoon, why are you still here? It’s clear that I don’t want anything to do with you anymore,” you refuse to back off as you stare the man down, watching as he simply laughs incredulously at your words; you don’t flinch for a second the moment he begins to insult you, but you can feel the way Beomgyu grows angrier behind you. 

“—embarrassing, how you still let your bitch follow you around like that—” 

You don’t allow Sunghoon to get too far in his sentence before you’re dousing him with your drink, the projection so sudden that the three of you fall silent. Sunghoon is positively dripping wet with your drink and his face is turning redder by the second, but you don’t let the consequences of your actions set in before you’re tugging Beomgyu’s arm roughly, snapping him out of his trance as you go to run away. 

Adrenaline is pumping furiously in your veins as you lace your fingers tightly with Beomgyu’s; you’re not sure if Sunghoon decided to chase after you— you doubt it, really— but you’d rather not find out as you choose to run away blindly instead. The air whips on your face and you’re surprised to feel a grin break out on your face, unsure of where your destination might be as you let out a bewildered laugh. 

It isn’t until you’re turning the corner of a street that you find that Sunghoon is hot on your trail; you’re more than surprised to see it, your pace picking up as you tug on Beomgyu’s arm carelessly, eyes flickering from place to place in search of a hiding spot. 

Your legs burn and you feel your hold on Beomgyu beginning to slip, yet you quickly find an idea forming in your head as you weave through the trees by a park entrance, pulling Beomgyu along until the soft grass under your shoes turns into hard mulch. You can hear his confused comments as you pull him up the play structure, forcing him to duck down and climb the stairs of the playground before you slump down at your destination. 

You feel your back slide down against the warm plastic tube that leads to a slide. 

The three circular holes act as windows as the two of you remain huddled in the empty park, giggling amongst yourselves as you look for any signs of your immature ex— you’re left shushing each other and slapping a hand over the other’s mouth as he appears in the distance, clearly soaked and still pissed off as he scans the area for the sight of you; a few moments pass before he’s giving up, probably mumbling angrily to himself as he turns around to leave. 

You can feel Beomgyu smile against the palm of your hand— slowly, you turn to him, his eyes filled with such childish joy that you can’t help the way the two of you burst into another fit of giggles; the tube is much too small and you’re knocking into each other as you laugh, incoherent jokes being exchanged between the two of you as you slowly feel the adrenaline in your system ebb away. 

“What an asshole,” Beomgyu sighs, placing his hands over his stomach as he turns to you; he’s laying back against the plastic tube, his hair filled with static as it begins to sit up and wriggle around wildly, watching as you laugh and poke fun at him for his wild hair, his head only rubbing against it more as he meets your gaze with a smile that slowly sobers, “you okay?”

You know he’s referring to the onslaught of insults that Sunghoon brought upon you; you’re surprised to find that you had already forgotten all about it, your mind racing as your mouth seems to let loose, spilling your thoughts as you keep your gaze forward. 

“What? Oh, I’m fine,” you say, biting your lip before you continue without control, “I just couldn’t stand there and watch him try to insult you too.”

It’s silent at that. All you can hear is the rustling leaves of the trees and an occasional chirp in the distance. Your words seem to set in, and it’s suddenly far too warm in this small tube. You feel scrunched up and achy as you attempt to stretch out your legs, only able to get so far before your feet are pushing against the wall.

It’s a mistake to look back at Beomgyu. He’s sporting that stupid smile that makes you feel sappy, your guard lowering as you find yourself unable to insult your stupid friend. He shifts around, attempting to get more comfortable before your eyes widen— slowly, he reaches out to you. 

The action is so tender and his eyes are so fond, his head tilting curiously as he’s leaning his body closer to you. You’re surprised to find yourself doing the same, gulping softly as you watch him hesitantly reach for your face. Tenderly, his face lands on your cheek— you jump up at the shock that sends through your skin. 

“Ow!”

His stupid laugh and lack of apology are enough to tell you it had been his plan all along. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Your room is a mess. 

You’re pacing around, restless and anxious as you run your palms down your clothes; it’s a horrible feeling, your throat gone dry as you glance at the mirror one last time. You’re not one to dress up much, but you know it’s only fair to go all out after the invitation for your friend’s wedding came in the mail like a slap in the face. Personally, marriage at twenty-five is a terrifying concept to you, but hey, to each their own.

Parties have never really been your thing; it was only after an insane amount of mental prepping that you finally decided to send back that small rsvp card, your fingers shaking as you nervously wrote down two for the number of guests. 

It was an impulsive decision to ask your friend to come with you as your date-- but you had no one else to ask, and secretly, you wished for this to be the moment the two of you finally got closer. Yeonjun had agreed after some slight convincing, and you couldn’t deny the way your heart soared at the thought of the two of you spending the night together. Yet now here you stand, unsure and riddled with anxiety as you pass by your mirror for the umpteenth time.

Was this too much? Too little? Was the color okay? You hope you’re not overdressed— oh who are you kidding, it’s a wedding— but you also hoped you weren’t underdressed, either. 

Your spiraling thoughts had quickly been interrupted by the buzzing of your phone, the notification bringing you out of your reverie as you found yourself drawn to your bed, a heavy sigh escaping you the moment you sat on the mattress; the text messages that stared back at you were oddly reassuring as you skimmed through them. 

Yeonjun

hey, you look stunning

I’ll meet you there :) 

A smile tugged at your lips; you had been so worried about your appearance that the memory of the picture you sent him earlier had completely been wiped from your mind, his compliment bringing butterflies to your stomach as you hesitantly typed something in return. With your confidence restored, you finally found it in yourself to finish getting ready, trying your best to not overthink things as you smoothed down your clothes in the mirror one last time. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Your friend looks gorgeous; it’s a thought that doesn’t leave your head for the rest of the night, a smile stuck on your face as you never miss a chance to compliment her. Yeonjun does the same with you, his kind eyes and soft smile sending a whirlwind of emotions through you as you shyly reply each time. 

It’s a bit quiet as you sit at your assigned table. It seems as though you’ve run out of things to talk about, and you find yourself fidgeting nervously with you jacket that remains in your lap as Yeonjun looks around the venue; he’s looking for someone, you’re guessing, and judging the way his eyes widen and a smile breaks through his face, you definitely think he’s found them.

“Hey, is it alright if I go say hi to a friend real quick?” Yeonjun asks, his eyes sparkling as he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. And oh, who were you to deny him when he looked this cute? The way he has you stuttering out a response is embarrassing, but you refuse to let it show as he sends you a happy smile in return. 

A slight twinge of regret hits you the moment he gets up to leave— you’re left alone now. 

You’re sure you look like a lost child as your gaze follows Yeonjun, unsure of what else to do before he’s getting lost in the crowd. You have no idea who these other people are, and you don’t doubt for a second that the fear must be creeping up on your face by now; the only thing you’re counting on now is the hope that Yeonjun will come back soon. 

A few minutes pass; you’re scrolling through your phone awkwardly, pretending as though you’re not counting down the seconds as you glance around the room every once in a while. It’s been ten minutes— you’re sure you look pitiful now, sitting alone at this table hidden in a corner. 

After more time passes, you know that Yeonjun probably forgot all about you now. It’s a sad and pathetic thing to feel as you anxiously trudge up to the table filled with desserts and finger foods, biting at your lips as you try not to pity yourself and drown in embarrassment. But before you know it, you’re back to your overthinking self, left on edge as you scurry back to your table the moment you fill your small dessert plate; there were too many people crowding the table, too many strangers that kept glancing at you curiously, probably finding it strange that none of the people at the party seemed to recognize you. (They don’t care, the rational part of your brain screamed at you.)

Slowly, another more time seems to pass by. The bride is too preoccupied and swarmed for you to talk to her, and you’ve “gone to the bathroom” way too many times for it to be considered normal now. You want to go home. It’s such a shame that you couldn’t find the courage to assimilate or even branch out, but the dance floor is too intimidating for you to approach, and you can’t seem to recognize a single song they’re playing. 

You’re stuck to be nothing more than an observer, not staring at your phone for once as you scan the room for your date once more; you perk up the moment you find him, hoping that he’ll see you and come back the moment you gain his attention.

All hopes are thrown out the window immediately. You find yourself deflating in defeat the moment you pick up on his body language, watching the way he’s enthralled with the person next to him, so affectionate and bubbly as he stares at them with stars in his eyes.

Oh. You think, feeling pathetic for the way you had gotten your hopes up for even a second. Though, after a moment, you find that the romantic sight isn’t what stung as much— the fact that he left you alone without much more of a thought did. 

The room feels stuffy— you told him it was okay to go off on his own, so why should you be mad?— you feel as though everyone is staring at you now, judging you— but you thought he’d return, he insinuated he’d return— the music is so loud, your head is starting to hurt— how would he know you didn’t know anyone else at the party?

The sound of your chair scraping against the floor tiles is unpleasant as you beeline to the entrance, hoping that your brisk steps and troubled expression aren’t too concerning to the people around you. You can feel all the tension within you release the moment you step out, the wind cool on your skin as you let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

You feel stupid the moment you begin to reflect on everything, sitting down at a nearby bench as you lean back against it. You feel stupid for everything; for getting yourself in such a situation, for having such difficulties socializing, for coming to this party in the first place— for inviting Yeonjun. 

You feel stupid for crying. You feel so, oh so stupid as you let all the built-up stress and emotions leak out of you, unable to stop or control it as you stare up at the sky, at the moon and the stars that seem to be your only company for the night. 

“I knew it had to be you,” a voice calls out, and you’re scrambling to wipe at your face, hunched over as you sniffle quietly, much too afraid to turn around to its source as you immediately recognize the mischievous tone. 

You don’t say anything, much too afraid that your voice will betray you as you hear footsteps approach you; your heart is pounding, dread that he’ll see you in such a state pooling in your stomach as you stare down at your lap in silence. 

“I saw you sitting alone in the corner, but I couldn’t figure out if it was really you,” Beomgyu lets out a soft huff as he takes a seat beside you, close enough so your limbs are touching, his body warm as he silently takes you in.

“Hey, what happened?” It’s embarrassing to hear his voice become so tender, so filled with concern as he immediately reaches out for your hand. You can practically feel his eyes burning into you, begging silently for you to look at him as you shake your head softly. 

“Nothing, ‘m just acting stupid,” is all you say, a soft laugh being forced out of you in hopes that he’ll let it all slide. Instead, he shakes his head, bending down to try and meet your gaze that’s cast down at the ground— you turn away immediately, but he’s persistent in his actions as he chases your gaze, poking into your vision until he’s all up in your face; avoiding him is impossible as you laugh at his stupidity, pushing him away as he smiles fondly at you, grabbing ahold of your hands that push at his cheeks in hopes of getting him away. 

“You’re not stupid,” he says, his voice soft as he takes in the way your eyes still shine with tears, “well, you are most of the time, but your feelings aren’t stupid.” 

A grin is breaking out on his face as he watches you become pouty and angry with him, playfully punching his arm as you insult him in return. It’s quiet for a second, and before you know it, you’re staring at the sky again, shoulder to shoulder with Beomgyu as you try to not think about how close the two of you are, or how you’re slowly leaning your head on his sturdy shoulder, the action welcomed as Beomgyu leans his head on yours in return. 

It’s magic; once you start telling him about everything, you can’t stop, surprised that you don’t feel shame or embarrassment for your feelings, the confessions a secret message between him and the moon that shines a light on the two of you. You tell him of all your stress, your troubles, and worries, and how small you felt being left alone inside, feeling helpless as you realized that Yeonjun didn’t find you important enough to return to you.

“I wouldn’t have left your side in the first place.” 

The words are innocent as he says them, but it’s enough to make you feel as though the air got knocked out of you, unsure of what to say as you begin to feel your heart pounding against your chest. 

“Wha— why are you here anyway?” You say, hoping he didn’t pick up on your stutter as you ask him something that’s been on your mind for a while—you don’t remember him mentioning anything about a wedding at all, and you know for a fact your friend and Beomgyu aren’t even acquainted. 

“Hmm? I’m here with Soobin,” Beomgyu says, and you’re furrowing your brows at his words; how in the world did you not see them? “The groom’s his cousin.” 

“Oh,” you say, pulling away as you hear someone walking nearby, your body getting tired from being in the same position for so long. Forcing yourself to stand, you watch Beomgyu quickly follow suit, patting yourself down as you look at your clothes pathetically; you let out a soft sigh, ashamed that you let such a pretty outfit go to waste on a night like this. 

“God, I feel so stupid for wasting my time on all this,” you say, feeling small under Beomgyu’s gaze as you begin to wonder if you look bad. 

Instead, Beomgyu says nothing; he takes a step closer to you, taking your appearance in as you avoid his eyes like the plague. You can feel yourself becoming flustered from his lack of response, your heartbeat quickening as he takes another step closer to you— he’s so close, you can feel his scent drowning your senses. 

Softly, he cups your face; your eyes are widening as he tilts your head up, his lidded eyes meeting yours for a moment before he’s leaning in; gently, his lips touch your skin, plush and soft as he places a kiss on your forehead. 

“You look beautiful— I’m glad you came.” 

Your mind seems to blank at that, unable to say anything more before he’s urging you to go back inside, scolding you that it’s too cold to be out without a jacket— his blazer is coming off the moment he points that out, his jacket heavy on your shoulders as you attempt to process everything.

It doesn’t help that he tenderly takes hold of your hand after, beginning to ramble about how emotional Soobin is as you pretend that you’re following along to everything he says; mentally, you’re still trying to figure out how to react to everything that happened in such a short period of time. 

You leave the party with Beomgyu and Soobin (who both made the experience much more enjoyable)— Yeonjun doesn’t contact you even after you’re long gone. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“He kissed you?” 

“Don’t say it like that!” You fuss, throwing a pillow at Soobin as you cross your arms in annoyance, “He kissed me on the forehead, there’s a difference.”

“Right, of course,” he mumbles, his words trailing off as his focus is drawn back to his game of Mario Kart; it had been an impulsive decision to visit Soobin the weekend after the wedding, knowing enough about the two roommates that you’d be certain Beomgyu wouldn’t be around— so now you sit on Soobin’s bed, biting your lip as you spill your thoughts in hopes of getting a second opinion. 

“So…?”

“Jesus, Soob,” you groan, throwing yourself back on the bed in frustration, “You know damn well he’s not like that with me!”

“Not like what?” Soobin’s obliviousness is almost award-winning, and it has you gawking at him hard enough that he can pick up on it from his peripheral vision, “Was it weird? Are you weirded out by him now?”

“Well— no, of course not…” you mumble, trailing off as you’re forced to reflect on what his actions meant to you— what did you feel for him? You’re certainly not disgusted or weirded out by the actions, but you can’t help but feel strange as the memories of that night seem to pester you endlessly.

“I just… feel confused, maybe,” you admit, brows furrowing as you watch Soobin curse lowly under his breath— your eyes flicker back to the screen of his small tv, watching with slight amusement as he gets hit with a blue shell, the man before you jostling in his place beside you on the bed as he takes a second to process your words. Glancing back at you, his eyes widen, quickly focusing back on the screen as he takes a second to think. 

“Confused? Why would you feel confused?” He asks, tilting his head before he’s muttering under his breath again— he groans, throwing his head back as he lands in second place, cursing out the person that took his spot bitterly before he’s throwing the control to the side and turning to you, “you’re friends, no?” 

“I— yeah,” you say, unsure of why you feel restless as you sit up on his bed— you feel as though what he’s telling you isn’t really what you want to hear, but what you actually want to hear is unknown, even to you, “I just… you don’t think anything of his actions?”

Soobin pauses at your words; it’s clear he’s thinking back to the events you told him about, his eyes drifting to the ceiling before he begins to hum softly, fingers drumming rhythmically on his bedsheets before he’s tilting his head thoughtfully.

“Well, I guess it was a bit random, coming from him,” he begins, watching as you perk up at his sentence, “but he was just trying to comfort you, don’t you think?”

That definitely doesn’t seem to be what you wanted to hear. It frustrates you as you press your lips together, unsure of why you feel oddly underwhelmed at the thought that there was no deeper meaning to his actions— that it had all been done because Beomgyu simply felt obligated to.

“Yeah, I guess so…” you mumble quietly, unsure of why you feel much more tired than you did a few seconds before, telling Soobin to go back to his game as you let yourself get comfortable on his bed— he’s quick to question your sudden behavior change, but it’s far too late for you to talk to him as you wrap yourself in his blankets, kicking his side playfully the moment he asks you to not fall asleep on him; you’re able to see the way he laughs with a slight roll of his eyes, but your eyes feel much too heavy for you to take offense to it. 

Your dreams are filled with what-ifs and romantic scenarios with a perfect, faceless stranger, their aura so comforting and warm that you can’t help but feel like you’re at home. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

There’s something weird about Beomgyu.

Granted, Beomgyu’s weird in general— you’d like to chalk it up to you just being your normal, overthinking self again, but you’d almost say that your relationship’s dynamic has changed; it’s subtle, but it’s there— even if you’re withholding from saying anything from the fear of being proven wrong— his gestures, the way he looks at you, it’s all… shifted. 

He doesn’t try to fight you as much as he used to; if he does, he’s quick to drop it, not as petulant and persistent as you’re used to— it always leaves you confused and oddly irritated, smacking Beomgyu’s head away like a child the moment you notice him staring at you a little too long— it never fails to leave you disoriented, his eyes hiding something that you’re not sure you’d like to uncover as you choose to retaliate with violence.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you sneer, throwing your pillow at Beomgyu as the others remain unphased at your antics; it was just supposed to be a normal hangout like any other, yet Beomgyu just insisted on catching your attention with his stupid eyes— his eyes that resembled a puppy’s as you caught him staring at you multiple times in the last thirty minutes, catching you off guard every time as you were left flustered by how soft and fond he looked— after the tenth time of catching him, you found yourself to be tired of watching as he simply smiled and looked away like all the other times. 

“I’m not even looking at you,” Beomgyu responds immediately, his face stoic as he looks down at his phone. (That he had just pulled out in a weak attempt to deceive you.) 

“Stop lying, you little freak!” You continue, a frown on your face as you throw whatever else is next to you on the bed; you can hear Hueningkai whining about you abusing his plushies, but you don’t pay any mind to his comments as Beomgyu catches it effortlessly, hugging the Molang plushie tightly against his chest as he tilts his head at your comment, batting his lashes in faux innocence. Defeatedly, you groan, lying back on the bed as you throw an arm over your face. 

“God, you’re so annoying,” you whine, able to kick Beomgyu’s leg with your limited reach; you can hear the bed shifting past the noise of Soobin and Hueningkai raging on Mario Kart, but you try to not react to it as you press your lips together and shut your eyes tightly— after a moment, you feel Beomgyu’s hand poking your side. 

“You don’t mean that,” he says, and you can practically hear his pout as he continues poking you, trying to get a reaction out of you as he speaks, “I know you don’t mean that, right? Come on, tell me you don’t.”

You remain silent for as long as you can— but that proves itself to be incredibly difficult, because when Beomgyu wants a reaction from someone, he won’t stop until he gets one— and after what feels like forever, you finally decide to look at him, simply because you feel as though a bruise will form at your side if this child next to you keeps poking it so aggressively.

“Yes, I do mean it,” you say, squinting your eyes as you find Beomgyu’s face hovering over yours.

Beomgyu has always been like this— always touchy with others, never one to miss up on the chance to cling to the people he cares for— yet, you find your heart beating a little harder now, eyes shaking as you find yourself so close to him that you’re practically sharing the air you breathe; so close you could count every lash on his round eyes that stare down at you, close enough that if you crane your head up even a little, you could kiss him. 

Oh god, that’s weird, you realize, eyes widening as you turn your head to the side, looking away from him and slapping your hand flat on his forehead in an attempt to push him away; you succeed without much of an effort, only able to look at him once he’s sat up completely. 

“Get away from me,” you scold him, yet even though it’s lighthearted as always, you can’t help the way your voice wavers weakly, quieting down as you watch him continue to pout at you, “seriously, you have no concept of personal space.” 

Usually, you’d expect Beomgyu to up his antics by a hundred; torment you like a toddler, forcing your friends to intervene once they’ve decided they’ve had enough of your disruptive behavior— anything would be better than watching Beomgyu narrow his eyes at you, oddly quiet before he lets out a soft “hmph.” Crossing his arms, he scooches away from you until he’s entirely pressed into the corner, far enough so that you can’t touch him no matter how much you stretch. 

And just like you requested, he refuses to look at you the rest of the time— his action baffles you so much that you end up scooting over to torment him, whining petulantly for him to look at you again before you give up, kneeling next to him as you watch the way he stares at the wall in front of him, not even hiding his annoyance as he says thought you didn’t want me to look at you. 

That’s enough to stop you completely— why were you doing this? Why had his actions bothered you so much? You remain silent after his comment, unsure of what else to say before you’re settling down next to him, stretching out your legs and crossing your arms as you mirror his posture; you look like scolded children, you hear Taehyun comment at some point, but you pay no mind to it as you remain by Beomgyu’s side diligently— it’s enough to have your mind racing with odd thoughts after approximately five minutes. 

Beomgyu always smells so nice, you find yourself thinking, the familiar smell enveloping your senses and making your arms hug yourself a little tighter— he smells of fresh laundry and a warm spring breeze. Your eyes grow heavier as you watch your friends play Minecraft on the television— it feels so warm and comforting as you take in the way the sun has already set— you’ll probably have to go back to your dorm soon, but you can’t really find the energy to wake yourself back up as the calming music of the game quickly affects your mind. 

Your upper body is sliding against the wall behind you; you don’t mean for it to happen, but it’s such a slow progression that you don’t realize the moment you’re now shoulder to shoulder with Beomgyu— his sweater is warm against your skin, and suddenly you regret wearing a t-shirt and not something warmer— your breaths are evening out, and as much as you want to see Soobin’s finished house that he keeps boasting about, you can’t help the way your vision blurs as you watch the screen in front of you, your head lolling forward a few times before your mind decides to fall asleep.

Beomgyu can see from the corner of his eye the moment you fall asleep, your head dropping down in an uncomfortable position as he finally turns to look at you. 

You have no concept of personal space, your voice rings in his head, and he can’t help but find himself laughing as he watches the way you remained glued to his side the moment he began ignoring you, your shoulders pressed together as you slowly begin to lean more of your body weight onto him. Slowly, he moves, careful to not wake you as he reaches out for your head; his hands are gentle and tender as he moves your head to rest on his shoulder, reaching over to a nearby blanket before he’s throwing it over your shoulders— you’re warm beside him as Beomgyu tries his hardest to suppress his smile, biting his cheek so hard he thinks he might just draw blood. 

You remain unaware of it all, shifting in your sleep so you’re practically cuddling into his side, searching desperately for more of the scent that brings you dreams of flower fields and love. 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 

Your theory has been proven right— something has changed about your relationship with Beomgyu, but it’s definitely not him. 

It’s you.

No, Beomgyu has changed a bit as well— he’s sweeter and a lot more gentle around you, sure, but it hasn’t been enough for it to be glaringly obvious— no, the problem lies with you, and the way you’ve begun to act and think around Beomgyu.

Friends don’t act the way you do; they don’t spit out insults left and right and act coldly while their mind races with dangerous thoughts, heart racing a little faster when their mind begins to whisper sweet what ifs; no, friends don’t do what you do, finding yourself staring at Beomgyu much longer than you’d like to admit before you’re paring it off with a swift, snarky comment, enough to start a petty argument that’ll have you wondering if Beomgyu was always so pouty when he talked, his lips pink and soft as you found your eyes drifting down to them more times than you’d like to admit. 

Friends don’t pair off such thoughts with violence— it’s enough to have your friends asking if Beomgyu has managed to piss you off somehow, and even though you try to play it off each time, you can’t help but wonder if you really are angry at him. 

The answer is somewhat of a yes— but you’re angrier at the way you can’t seem to act the same around him anymore, angry at the way you’ve begun to see him in a new light involuntarily— every intrusive thought is attempted to be pushed down as you try to force your old, feisty behavior back on him. 

Eventually, Beomgyu picks up on your behavior as well, and he reluctantly distances himself from you on the assumption that he has angered you somehow— the sudden loss is enough to make you angry with yourself, feeling awkward around him every time your friends hang out together.

Tonight was no exception.

You’re trailing behind the group the moment you feel your mind beginning to wander, the bright lights from the stalls around you and the various items being sold falling numb on your brain as you get lost in thought, the music playing all around becoming muddled to your ears— the festival being held tonight was supposed to be a way for all of you to take a break from your studies and have fun, yet you seem to be failing at the latter as you find your eyes drifting— like a vicious habit, they fall on Beomgyu. 

Oh, this is so weird, you think to yourself, still not used to the thoughts that begin to formulate in your head; no matter how much you try to push them away, you can’t help but notice how good he looks tonight; his hair styled nicely, bangs falling into his eyes with every breeze as his hands quickly come up to push the hair out his eyes; the soft lights from above and the lanterns that are lit as decoration turn the scenery around you into one big haze, absentminded as you watch your friends become distracted with the many food and souvenir shops, your mind much more occupied with other things as you find yourself daydreaming.

Like a coward, you turn away the moment Beomgyu catches you staring; your cheeks feel hot and you try to pretend as though you don’t feel Beomgyu staring at you for a moment, much more focused on the cute keychains the stall in front of you is selling as you show Hueningkai happily— it’s enough to distract you from your traitorous thoughts as you wonder if you should buy one, glancing at the price tag before you sober up and decide that it’s better to walk away; you’re giggling with Hueningkai as he pokes fun at you for being so cheap, falling into the playful banter before you feel the urge to look away from him— your eyes meet with Beomgyu’s on instinct. 

The way your expression turns awkward and your words die on your tongue doesn’t go unnoticed by Beomgyu— you’re mentally kicking yourself as you watch him turn his back on you, and you’re beginning to wonder if you’ve taken the role of defense so hard that you’ve driven Beomgyu away from you— guilt seeps into your chest as you stare at his back, trailing behind him like a sad puppy as you begin to reflect on your recent actions. 

The more you dwell on it, the more guilt you feel, trudging along with everyone else as the distance between you and Beomgyu grows; it’s enough to have you realize how your actions must have come across to the boy in front of you, your heart sinking as you watch the way his eyes immediately jump away the moment they meet yours— avoidant, scared to see your reaction as he quickly distracts himself with something else. 

You’ve been acting so childish, you realize, wondering how you can get Beomgyu to at least talk to you again as you try to fall into step beside him— all attempts to strike up a conversation fall short as he responds curtly to you each time, clearly hurt by your previous actions as you find yourself giving up after a while. 

Oh, why does it hurt so much to have Beomgyu ignoring you? You’ve done this to yourself, yet you can’t stand the thought of not being by Beomgyu’s side tonight. Your heart feels heavy and the lively atmosphere around you has become a lot more dull than you’d like as you quickly find your thoughts spiraling out of control, wondering what you can do to fix things. 

“I heard there’s a firework show happening in an hour,” Soobin says, appearing at your side as the others become distracted with another booth nearby. You’ve decided to fall behind as you notice a booth that’s selling jewelry, two hairpins catching your eye as you stare at the pretty pieces decorated with intricate flowers. You’re snapped out of your daze as you look up, your fingers still running over the flower designs in your hands as you feel the metal slowly warm up from the heat of your skin.

“Apparently the view up there is supposed to be the best,” he continues, nodding at the end of the hill that’s already filled with people, a big tree that grows in the center of it all illuminating them from the warm lanterns that hang from its thick branches, “we should go, don’t you think?” 

“Hmm… yeah,” your distant and soft voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Soobin as he raises a brow at you, eyes slowly taking you in before he’s following your line of sight— without meaning to, you’ve found yourself staring at Beomgyu again, watching as he’s gone quiet as well, mirroring your mood and no doubt lost in his thoughts as the idea of you being the cause of this brings a frown to your face. 

“We’ll head up in thirty minutes…” Soobin continues, watching as you snap out of your daze and turn away from him; staring down at the pins in your hand, wondering how much they might cost as you begin to rummage for your wallet quietly, “We’ll try to get a good view, okay?” 

“Okay, sounds cool,” you say, not entirely processing his words as he ushers you to follow behind him once you’ve bought the hairpins— you can see the way he glances back at you every once in a while, but you try to ignore the concern in his eyes as you force yourself to smile, brightening up your mood in hopes that you can finally get him to stop worrying. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re hiking up the large hill; there’s a man-made trail you follow along, and you can already spot the crowds of people from afar, the number of friend groups and couples huddled together making your stomach twist involuntarily. 

Inevitably, you find yourself growing tired; the hill wasn’t steep, but you weren’t exactly the most energetic tonight as you quickly found your steps trudging along, watching your friends continue to walk ahead as you reassured them that you were fine— just a little tired, don’t worry. 

You’re stopped in your tracks completely as you stumble over a hole in the ground— you’re tripping, letting out a soft gasp before you’re tumbling to the ground; you’re left to fuss over the dirt on your clothes before you realize how much you’ve fallen behind, sighing in dismay as you slowly straighten yourself out— your hands brush over your pockets, and you freeze entirely when you reach inside, only able to find one hairpin as you feel your heart sink at the realization. 

It’s completely dark now— there’s not even a ray of light that could assist you in your search, the lanterns from afar not doing much to illuminate the ground below you; you’re falling to your knees immediately as you begin to pat the ground around you in a panic, only able to feel grass and dirt as your hands become dirty, wincing slightly as you feel a particularly sharp rock scratch against your hand; your teeth sinking into your wobbling lip as you feel your emotions threaten to tumble down. 

Patting your pockets in search for your phone, you realize with dread that you seem to have dropped that as well; you pause your search in defeat, staring at the dark ground around you as you begin to wonder what you should do— you feel so childish at the feeling of a lump forming in your throat, your heart racing against your chest as you begin to dread the feeling of your eyes stinging— in one last attempt to keep your composure, you sniffle, wiping at your eyes before you go back to your search, desperate to find the items as you pat the ground around you harshly. 

“You’ll stab yourself with a rock if you keep doing that,” a voice above you says, and you’re scrambling to make yourself look put together and nonchalant as you raise your head to the sound; squinting, you wince at the bright light that shines at you, shielding your eyes from it as you find the face of the figure that speaks to you— Beomgyu’s expression is unreadable as he stares down at you, tilting his head as he waits for you to say something— after a while, he simply sighs, pointing his phone’s flashlight at the ground and coming to your side with slow steps. 

“What happened,” he asks, although his voice is so distant and tense that it barely comes out as a question, “What’re you looking for?” 

“My phone,” you mutter sheepishly, avoiding his gaze completely as you let him shine the ground around you with his light. It’s silent between you two, and you can’t help but be frustrated at how tense you’ve managed to make the atmosphere around you again— after what seems like forever, you’re finally able to spot your phone, scattered on the hill below as you carefully make your way to it. 

Beomgyu finds it a bit odd that you’re reluctant to make your way back to him, shining your phone’s flashlight and pointing it to the ground around as you seemingly search for something else, despite your words that you’d only lost his phone. He’s taking a step toward you, about to call your name before he sees it— something shines in his peripheral vision, reacting to his phone’s light as he finds himself walking to it without much thought. 

“The fireworks are starting soon,” Beomgyu says softly, his voice much closer than you expected as you find yourself turning to face him; his phone is put away, and the only things able to illuminate him are the remnants of the light from the lanterns that manage to reach the two of you and the fireflies that softly twinkle around him. 

You slowly tuck your phone away in defeat; it’s much too embarrassing to admit what else you were looking for, gulping nervously as you glance back up the hill— you can see your friends in the very distance, their backs facing you as they remain huddled together— and back at him, unable to stop the way your lips part in shock, eyes widening as you find Beomgyu slowly handing something to you.

The pin is free of dirt as he holds it delicately in his hand, as though he were afraid to break it; you can’t help but notice the way his palm shakes as he waits for you to take it, letting out a slow exhale before he smiles bitterly.

“It’s pretty,” he says, lips pressed together as you take it from him. The small thank you that leaves your lips is awkward and forced, and Beomgyu thinks he might just burst as you immediately look away from him— he feels tormented as he waits for you to say something, anything, only to watch as you continue to ignore the elephant in the room. 

Ten minutes. That’s all he has before your attention is taken by the pretty show that is about to begin, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t take this chance to confront you— to get things back to how they were before. 

“Do you hate me?” His statement is strong enough to have you looking at him once more, eyes wide and scandalized as you uselessly attempt to stutter out a reply. Beomgyu licks his lips nervously as he backtracks, clearing his throat as he realizes that he may have started off a little too strong. 

“Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?” He attempts again, his mind racing and taking control of his mouth as he doesn’t allow you to respond, “You’ve been acting so cold to me recently, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Things have been weird since the… since the wedding thing.” 

It seems as though that’s enough to have Beomgyu putting everything together, his brows knitting together in a frown as he realizes how he’s become more vulnerable around you— and how much you’ve pushed him away in retaliation.

“I’m sorry if it was weird. I didn’t mean to change things between us, I’d understand if it made you uncomfortable, but you’ve been acting so mean to me recently, and I can’t help but feel as though I’ve really crossed the line—“

It’s surprising to Beomgyu when he feels his words begin to stick in his mouth, stumbling over them and stuttering, repeating his points over and over as he realizes it’s all happening again. You’ve managed to catch him at a vulnerable time yet again, and he can feel his cheeks grow warm in frustration as he watches as you stand before him, unsure of what to say as he continues to pour his heart out to you. 

“Beomgyu,” you say quietly, interrupting him with ease as he finds himself out of breath, sighing shakily as he watches the way you clutch the hairpin close to you, pausing for a second as you begin to think of what to say. 

“I don’t… hate you,” you begin, your every word uncertain as though you were trying to figure the answer out yourself, “I’m not mad at you, either. And— and you didn’t cross any lines, nor do I find you weird— well, maybe a little, but…” 

“But?” Beomgyu continues, finding himself unable to hold himself back as he urges you to continue, “You’ve been so— so avoidant, and it’s weird because you’ve made me feel as though I did something wrong—!”

“You didn’t do anything wrong Beomgyu!” You say, sighing in frustration as you take in the man before you— Beomgyu seems to be doing no better than you, but in this moment, you feel as though everything is finally coming together, the man in front of you reminding you of everything you’ve been dreaming of— of comfort, of home, of love. 

Choi Beomgyu is the type of guy who is brutally honest. He’s the type of person who will ridicule you and poke fun at you in order to get a reaction, to act like a child and throw tantrums in order to get his way and bat his eyes innocently when accused. He’s the type of person that will have you wondering if he’s really in his twenties, and isn’t actually three children hiding under a trenchcoat. 

Choi Beomgyu is the type of guy who will show up unannounced, who will find you no matter how far and force you to eat because he figured out that you’ve been cooped inside all day. He’s the type of guy that loses fights on purpose, who will cling to you like a baby under the pretense that he’s only doing it to be annoying. He’s the type of person that will sneak compliments at the most inconvenient times, who will put a blanket over your shoulders and move your head when you’re asleep because he knows how much your neck will ache if you leave it in a certain position. 

Choi Beomgyu has loved you quietly— in his everyday actions, treating it like second nature as he cares for you in secret— through his words, through his thoughts, and through his eyes that manage to spill enough emotions that leave you speechless. 

Choi Beomgyu is the type of person who will always be vulnerable to you, no matter how dangerous; even if it means you pushing him away again, he grits his teeth and stands before you, baring his heart and asking you to take care of it the way he’s taken care of yours.

“You wouldn’t even look at me,” He says, taking a step closer to you as his voice drops significantly; he’s hesitant, afraid to hear your response as he attempts to keep his gaze cold.

“Why are you being like this?” His voice is hurt and angry, and you can’t help the way everything seems to bubble up and spill out of you uncontrollably the moment he grows defensive again. 

“It’s because I like you, dumbass!” The words are a confession to both him and yourself as you finally let it out— the words feel new and strange in your mouth, your tongue testing everything out as you take in the way the sentence leaves a taste behind it— it tastes sweet. 

“I like you and it’s weird because it’s all so new, I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this about you and I’m scared because…” you huff, brows furrowing as you take a second to think; Why were you scared? 

“Because… I don’t know,” you admit, shoulder sagging as you take in the way Beomgyu can simply stare at you, waiting for you to finish, “I don’t know. I like you and I’m afraid, this is all so new and I thought that if I tried to push these feelings away, it’d all go back to normal, because I was afraid that you’d… that you wouldn’t feel the same.” 

Afraid you’d be wrong. Afraid you’d get hurt again, that you managed to interpret all his actions wrong and would simply be getting your hopes up— afraid that you’d hurt him, even though you already have. 

“Afraid I wouldn’t feel the same?” He echoes, his voice laced with disbelief as he practically breathes the words out— he feels out of breath, his heart pounding against his chest as his mind begins to process everything you told him— I like you, dumbass, your voice remains on his mind like a broken record, and he can’t help the way he laughs softly, in disbelief as he realizes how stupid this whole argument has been. 

“I’ve— I’m the one who should be saying that,” he says, running a hand through his hair before he’s laughing again— then again, and again until it’s all an uncontrollable mess, his eyes creasing and his nose scrunching as he takes in your befuddled expression; you stand frozen before him, incredulous as you wonder how you should respond to a reaction like this.

“I knew you were a bit stupid, but this is just too much,” he teases you, throwing you off guard so much that you slap his arm like instinct; it’s enough to have you snapping out of your heartfelt moment as you pout at him, scolding him for being so mean and ruining what was supposed to be something serious. 

Beomgyu is the type to be eerily attuned to a person’s emotions; which is exactly why he chooses to be childish now, when he saw the way your eyes shone with tears and you became shaky as you waited for him to respond, able to get your mind off your irrational fears as you immediately went back to your pouty, whiny self.

You’re so fucking mean, you cry out, smacking him again before he takes your hand; pulling you closer, he smiles, his eyes filled with mischief as he takes in the way you quickly fluster from his proximity. 

Beomgyu smells of spring and comfort, his hands warm against your skin as he cups your face gently; you can’t control the way you gulp at his actions, his eyes lighting up as he waits for you to do something— to pull away, to shut him out, anything that could stop the dangerous path his mind is taking— but you don’t, your hand that remained a fist against his chest slowly pressing against it, shaking and firm as you attempt to steady yourself; in turn, you feel his heart, fast and thundering against your palm as you find yourself getting closer to him; close enough to watch the way his hair falls into his eyes, close enough to count every individual lash on his lids that flutter shut, and close enough to feel his lips against yours. 

He tastes of honey and the cherry lip balm he always uses, his kiss sweet and unsure as you feel his pillowy lips move against yours; you think you might just melt into him as he pulls you closer, his other hand grasping firmly at your waist before he’s tugging you in closer— chest against chest, trying to feel you wholly as though you’d disappear into thin air the next second—  and he tilts his head curiously, deepening the kiss and refusing to pull away even if his lungs begin to burn.

Beomgyu thinks he could stay this way forever; he holds you delicately, as though he were afraid to lose you at any moment, the feeling of your warm palm pressing against his heart the only reminder that he’s alive— yes, he’s alive. This is real, and he finally has you here with him, able to love you as loudly as he wants, if you’ll let him.

And of course you’ll let him— you feel curious as you allow your hands to explore, to run across his shoulders and lace themselves in his hair, able to feel the soft locks that have been blowing about freely all night long— you feel curious to explore these new feelings, letting them in and allowing them to blossom as you finally pull away.

Beomgyu laughs the moment you pull away— because you only do so from the loud sounds of fireworks in the distance, jolting in his hold as you turn around to find the source of the sound; your face is lighting up at the pretty lights, a smile growing on your face as you take it all in. 

“So pretty,” you sigh out, looking back at Beomgyu, only to find him already staring at you; you smile shyly as you feel him take in the pin from your hands, reaching up hesitantly before you’re guiding him in his actions; you carefully clip in the hairpin as you smile, watching the way he takes you in carefully— his eyes are fond and sweet as he nods, caressing your cheek before he grins. 

“Very pretty.” 

You scoff at his response, rolling your eyes before you’re poking fun at how predictable he is— but Beomgyu doesn’t care, and he would do it again, anything to watch as you laugh with joy, growing shy under his gaze as he realizes he’s staring again— but this time, he doesn’t feel forced to look away. 

Neither do you. You allow yourself to meet his gaze, uncertain and giddy as you allow yourself to feel everything you’ve tried to hide, to think about everything you’ve tried to ignore. Reaching in your pocket, you pull out the second hairpin you picked, carefully reaching up to brush his bangs out of his eyes; they flutter shut at the action, and you can’t help but smile at how peaceful he looks, his face lit up in every which color as the firework show continues behind you. 

“There,” you say after a moment, watching as Beomgyu slowly opens his eyes before he’s reaching for the accessory you’ve put in— you smile as you watch him run his fingers over the design, the same flowers that decorate your pin as you watch the realization dawn on him. 

“So pretty,” you say again, and Beomgyu can’t help but smile as you keep your eyes on him— unable to look away, even if it means you’ll miss the mesmerizing fireworks that continue to light up behind you. 

As Beomgyu laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand tightly before he’s gently telling you to turn around so you can watch the show together, he wonders if any daydream he’s concocted could ever compare to the real thing; he knows that answer is no, not with the way you still can’t help yourself as you glance at him every once in a while, your eyes wide and alight as you look at him as though he were your whole world— he feels as though he could melt with every glance, his heart beating faster as he realizes that he’ll no longer have to daydream.

He’ll no longer have to love you quietly, biting his tongue at the thought as he fights back a delirious smile— pulling you into him, he feels the way you’re quick to embrace him, inhaling deeply before you’re letting out a sigh of contentment. 

Your love, your comfort, your home— Choi Beomgyu has been all of it, and you’re more than ready to reciprocate it all as you hold him a little tighter— taking his heart into your hands, with the quiet promise that you’ll care for him just as he always has for you. 

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt x you #txt reader #txt angst #txt fluff #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop oneshots #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu angst

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

I have a little bit of an interesting question! I know you stated you like writing horror and NSFW, or at least you do not mind dabbling in them, so I'm curious to your opinion:

(Please, very important onto this, keep in mind that, when I ask about 'Yandere', while yes, I mean this lovesick, obsessed character who goes to kidnapping/harming others/threatening/killing etc extremes to get the object of their affection/obsession, there's many yandere types. I PERSONALLY like only a handful of them because I am very careful with TW (I do not like toxic relationships where the 'darling' is deprived of privacy, is mistreated, forced to do things, has hands laid on them, has their emotional well being messed up by demeaning words, etc, and I do not enjoy abuse depictions of the trope either, so I cherry-pick a lot (due to personal trauma). Yanderes are often portrayed as straight up abusive when they needn't be, there's delusional ones, lucid ones who do not want to feel the way they do, others who rather give themselves to the object of obsession/affection and would rather hurt themselves than ever upset them, others who lean more towards manipulation, etc.). I say this because TW are important and while this is 'just a question in a blog' I want to inform you that there is NO EXPECTATION for you to write abuse, toxicity or anything of the sort. While being WELL AWARE that yandere relationships WILL be unhealthy in nature, it is that kind of 'unhealthy possessive' vibe you can enjoy IN FICTION, and should NEVER allow in real life. Take care of yourselves ❤️)

Obviously, none of the characters are canonically yandere, but do you have any opinions on who could fit the bill? And how/what way/what category they'd fit into?

Please ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable in any way and even if you simply respond without any headcanons/just a little ramble, remember to put TW so people who blacklist yandere stuff or feel trigger by any of it continue having a safe space here! Love your blog and what you do! Keep up the amazing work, and congratulations on such endless artistic talent!!

I haven't done a whole lot with the Yandere trope. I have one unpublished fan fiction for another fandom entirely that involves a yandere character in an antagonistic role. I don't tend to romanticize it because of how problematic it can be.

So needless to say, ⚠️ trigger warnings ⚠️ ahead for this topic, some more than others (lookin' at you, Doffy).

I feel like Sanji could fit the bill of being the lucid, regretful yandere. He knows that his obsession with you could be problematic, but he just can't help it. He gets insecure and jealous easily, and may be inclined to threaten any other men that happen to get to close to his beloved, platonically or romantically. He wants you completely to himself. Would be apologetic about his behavior and feel sincerely guilty for it, but just unable to keep himself from doing so. He also feels his behavior is protecting you in a way from being taken advantage of, and that's the only justification he can make for it—even to himself.

Mihawk, while his confidence and ego mean he's not really the jealous type, would still be a worthy candidate. He wants you aware that you are his in every sense of the word. You, your love, your mind, your body, all belong to him. No one else. He may very well be violent about it, though not toward you—just toward anyone who dares challenge his ownership over you. Toward his lover, he would be particularly doting and gentle, treating you like a fragile and priceless work of art. He would be incredibly disinclined to allow you to go anywhere without him; and if he finds out anyone else is attempting to court your affections or, heaven forbid, hurt you, then their days are going to be numbered.

Next would be Crocodile. Getting more ⚠️triggery⚠️ here. Prime candidate for a possessive yandere. Even if he doesn't have much time for you, you're still his property. He'll expect you to have time for him, to adhere to his schedule and his whims. He'll have a list of rules that you have to follow—no speaking with other men without him present, no going out in public without him or a guard that he has personally assigned to you; this is as much for the sake of keeping you safe as it is to ensure that you don't do anything he would disapprove of. In exchange, he'll shower you with lavish gifts, and treat you like a princess when he is with you...but if you break the rules, there will be consequences.

And lastly, and by far the most triggery, Doflamingo. Congratulations, you've caught the attention of an absolutely sadistic and manipulative yandere! He values total control over all aspects of your life. But he's going to make you think you have some freedom at first. He'll pout a little if you want to go somewhere without him, but he'll allow it...on the surface, at least. Then he'll hire some thug or other criminal deviant to scare you right back into his arms, whether with idle threats or physical force. He'll make you feel like he's your only source of safety and comfort. Make you defend him to your concerned friends and family of your own volition, until you have absolutely no one left but him to turn to. He'll justify it by saying it absolutely is for your own safety, and he sincerely believes that to be true; even if he wasn't hiring people to frighten you, there's still every chance that you could be hurt or enticed to leave if you stray too far from his side, and he can't allow that. Whether he views you as a lover or just a plaything, no one else is allowed to touch you but him.

#one piece #opla #mihawk #dracule mihawk #sanji #sir crocodile #doflamingo #mihawk x reader #sanji x reader #crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader #yandere #headcanons #tw