#but in the context of who he is and what his duties are you see why he does them

[owlcomics101]

Task force 141 x Animatronic!Reader

Warnings: This is a task force fnaf AU, gore/blood, mentions of death and child murder (No children die in this, children’s death is only mentioned!), corpse, SFW (I am a minor), fluff, wholesome animatronic shenanigans, language (cussing), Reader is a withered bunny animatronic

GIF by: @thedgeofsleep

Context/Backstory: In this universe the task force was forced to be relived of duty due to ‘Mental issues’. Finding a job was hard for them but they were welcomed in with opened arms by Fazbear entertainment. You are a withered down bunny animatronic that watches the shows from a distance. Your ability to even function is a mystery to the team and it even intrigues them. They can’t help but be drawn to you. Your movements are so fluid, so human. Unlike the other Ghosts you are the only one that is more forgiving and gentle to the task force. And the task force will do anything to keep you from getting scraped and salvaged for parts. Reader’s spirit is an adult.

Price: Price is the security guard for this pizzeria location. He was the first to see the true nature of the animatronics. The true nature of you. He was afraid at first. Who wouldn’t be? But then he remembers of how more of a monster humanity is on the field than these worn down 80’s themed animatronics ever were or will be. He had already grown accustomed to the animatronics and their night mechanics and when he thought he had it all in the bag that’s when he met you. Price was off his game one night. He was tired, exhausted, heavy bags under his blood shot eyes. His job left him restless in the day time and constant nightmares and panic attacks. He was more afraid of what goes on in his head than the animatronics he keeps at bay. It was 5:50 am. His shift was almost over. Price was getting ready to leave but that’s when he saw you on the cameras. “The bloody hell?” He mumbled to himself. You were much older and withered than the others. You had a completely different theme. Your suit and character was cottage themed and aesthetic. You held a basket full of flower props with a small butterfly prop inside as well. You wore a worn sun hat that had holes for your floppy mechanical ears. Price was a bit panic. He wasn’t sure how to deal with you. Could he just simply close the door on you? Flash a light? It was already to late though, you were already at the door. Price pulled out his taser. He knows he shouldn’t destroy property but he will if he has to. Despite having a taser pointed at you, you held out one of the prop flowers from your basket. Price was…surprised to say the least but he cautiously took it anyways. “….Thanks love.” He mumbles as he looks down at the flower prop in his hands, but the time he looked back up. You were gone.

Gaz: Gaz was the day time security guard of this location. He ensured no one was stealing, breaking, or hurting anyone and/or the property. Despite this, he was still having a hard time adjusting back to a normal life like the others. Sometimes all the noise and ambiance of the pizzeria gets overwhelming. Especially if a balloon pops. Gaz one day was making his routes around the pizzaria when he saw a figure hiding behind some arcade machines. Gaz’s brows furrowed as he quickly went to investigate, his hand over his taser as he gets ready to peak around behind one of the arcade machines. Thats when he saw two rabbit ears poking up, but it wasn’t Bonnie’s it was yours. You were watching over everyone from a distance but also trying to hide from some of the children and adults. They sometimes tend to poke and prod at you and with your already fragile and withered body you were bound to break apart. Gaz was…puzzled at first. He’d never seen you around before. It made him question how he had never seen you around before. Nonetheless he tried getting you to stay in parts’n’service but you always escaped to go watch your friends Freddy and the gang preform. Gaz let out a sigh and he gave up trying to put you away. He’d made sure to keep you safe from the kids during his shift while you watch the show. During his break he’d play the arcade games and to his surprise he watches you play some of the games as well. He can never seem to beat you in Fruity Maze. You like to steal his hat and wear on top of your sun hat with a big smug look on your face. You were the perfect distraction from his worries and fears and he loved you for it.

Ghost: Ghost was the mechanic. He fixed up all the animatronics before and after shows. He never paid much attention to you at first. After all, you were just some broken down old animatronic still lingering around for some reason. Right? A kid one day accidentally pulled on Bonnie’s ears too hard and one of them snapped off. “Fuckin hell…” Ghost would mutter to himself. Cant these Damm kids keep their hands to themselves? The ear was completely broken and smashed. He couldn’t simply repair it and snap it back on. It was missing a joint. He looked around the pizzaria for that joint, digging through the spare parts bins and checking around stage and back stage, but to no avail. He then looked over to you. Sitting peacefully and all propped up in the corner. Holding your basket close to your furred chest. Ghost rolled his eyes with a huff. Now you were finally useful to him. He went over to you, studying your ears. All he had to do was take one of your ears and change the fabric color to match Bonnie’s. Simple enough right? That was until your head suddenly looked in his direction you purposely folded your ears flat against your head to keep out of his reach. This caught ghost by surprise. How were you even active??? Nonetheless you were active now and you weren’t gonna be used like some pile of scrap for everyone to take, take, and take! You slowly rose to your feet. Your hand tight around the flower basket prop you always held. As pissed as you were, unlike the others you had no intentions of harming anyone. You just wanted to haunt your suit in peace. Your feet shuffled beneath you as you slowly marched to the door. Ghost going wide eyed and immediately trying to stop you. You jumpscare him with a auditable screech to at least stun him enough that you could get out of the room. It worked but he recovered quickly then you expected. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to open the door with your free hand. He wasn’t going to let you get away. He couldn’t lose property it would’ve been bad on his part and plus he was…intrigued by you. You still didn’t want to hurt him. He was simply trying to do his job. But you didn’t wanna lose any more limbs. As a last resort your suit’s mouth slowly opened up. Ghost raised a brow, still tugging on you when his eyes widen in horror what was inside….a sickly pale hand reach out from your suit’s mouth. Your hand slowly prying Ghost’s hand off your suit’s wrist. Ghost was in too much shock. He’s seen plenty of horrifying and disturbing things in his line of work but…nothing like this. Once you got his hand off your suit’s wrist. Your sickly hand slowly returns back into your suit’s mouth as the suit mouth’s closes. You immediately pull away. Disappearing into the darkness of the building leaving Ghost on his knees hyperventilating with the hand you touch shaking. Nothing in this situation made sense but one thing was clear; you were alive and aware…..somewhat.

Soap: Soap was the slasher of this universe. The man behind the slaughter, but not what you think. He didn’t kill you, nor did he take the lives of the five children. He was a night guard like Price, but his methods were more….lethal than Price when it came to intruders. Whoever snuck in the pizzeria, never came back out. He used an old springlock animatronic suit he found in one of the safe rooms and used it to keep himself hidden because he knows Price is always watching on the cams. He never killed anyone innocent, only people who broke in at night with Ill intentions. He would hide the bodies in the spare suits in parts and service for Ghost to later find during his shift. Ghost does later catch on to what Soap is doing, he doesn’t pry into it. He just reminds Soap to loosen the spring locks when in use. The animatronics have tried attacking him plenty of times. Mistaking Soap for the man who took their lives when he uses the suit, but you never let them touch him. You are always watching from the shadows. Ensuring the animatronics didn’t even lay a paw on him. Because in your eyes, Soap was just defending the pizzeria, your forever home. Whenever Soap got dirty you would march over and pull out a old worn handkerchief from your flower basket and wipe the blood off as he would chuckle. There were times when he almost got fully springlocked and it always scared both you and Ghost. Ghost lets out a huff, deciding to make a suit for him that wouldn’t impale him at any given moment. While you finally got rid of the old suit. The suit’s head giving you the same cold and lifeless stare as the man looked when he took your life away.

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #task force 141 #task force x reader #captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #spring bonnie #fnaf x reader

[professor-doc-emeritus]

I love the dichotomy we get between jinshi and the emperor that shows off how the traits that make jinshi a great prince, boss, friend (husband 👀👀👀👀) are the very same traits that will make him a terrible emperor.

His hard working streak that lets him handle his weird assignments with grace and manage the clashing egos of the inner palace is what will get him killed by overwork as emperor since he has no real head for delegation. It took 11 volumes and the intervention of most of his immediate family just to get jinshi to hire a secretary. The emperor always being free to host parties, sleep with the consorts, and bust jinshis balls in-between it all is, much like lakan always being free to annoy maomao, actually a sign of him being god-like at delegation and organizational management.

His lack of ego and willingness to look the fool if it gets the job done is great for avoiding political snafus and getting to the truth of things. It's genuinely the thing that makes all his expeditions to the western capital so wildly successful: he really doesn't gaf about how he's seen by the public, so long as the job gets done and his friends aren't in immediate danger. It's also the exact opposite of what you need from a head of state who's legitimacy is not-insignificantly based on the public perceiving you as an instrument of the will of heaven. The emperor being willing to kill people and their families over slights jinshi (and most sane human beings) would be willing to let slide is cruel and inhuman, but it's also what keeps the populace at large from being able to organize against him and challenge the imperial power.

Jinshis compassionate streak, his urge to save as many people he can and find the best solution for everyone possible, makes him great to work for. He'll give you assignments that match your hyper fixation, work around your crippling social anxiety, give you a post that just-so-happens to involve you staying with the love of your life for a few months. More over, he isn't gonna risk his life and your position over petty ego or greed when he can find a peaceful solution instead. But the hesitation he feels at using people like tools, and his unwillingness to act if it means throwing people under the bus, is what will lead to death and destruction if he's the emperor. Especially in a time of war. The current emperor is willing to ruin lives and crush nations if it reaches a goal, advances an agenda.

Finally, jinshis loyalty, I'd say even more than his looks, is what draws people to him. He loves his toys, can't stand to give them up. It makes him a great romantic figure. But when you're the emperor, and you need to be willing and able to marry someone for political ends, produce as many heirs as possible regardless of who with, and set aside the feelings of those women for your own sake, that loyalty is poison.

Idk, so often in stories with these systems they sorta follow the logic of "if he's a good person he'll be a good leader." I think it's cool to have a series talk about how being a leader involves being EXTREMELY comfortable with being an asshole, for a myriad of reasons, and how someone being pleasant to work for wouldn't make them an effect monarch.

#its also important to note that despite all the shitty things the emperor is shown being/doing #he genuinely is portrayed as a well loved and effective leader #who does his best to reach his version of compassion #john mulaney has a good bit about working with celebrities for snl #and how in their world their version of polite/acceptable is very different and it can lead to tense situations #i think a lot of the emperor's actions are like that #like in a vacuum they're dick moves #but in the context of who he is and what his duties are you see why he does them #the apothecary diaries #jinshi #ka zuigetsu #spoilers

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.

1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.

2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.

So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.

Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.

He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.

Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.

Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.

I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.

He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.

I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.

OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.

Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world

PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox

Original post

#aita #am i the asshole #aita update #the saga of proposal anon

[sprout-fics]

Mind the Drop

(Captain Price x F! Reader)

Call of Duty Masterlist

Rating: M Wordcount: 7k Tags: BDSM AU, Dom/Sub, Subdrop, Comfort fic, Non-sexual kink, Non-sexual intimacy, Aftercare, Pet names, Platonic BDSM, Cuddling, Subspace, Sleeping together, Praise kink, Mutual pining, Safe Sane and Consensual Warnings: Subdrop A/N: This is an experimental piece that takes place in a BDSM AU verse, where a certain segment of the population is hormonally disposed to being a submissive or dominant. This is not inherently sexual, as you see in this fic. Dom/Sub negotiation is commonplace, but societal stigmas surrounding these roles persist, such as discouraging subs from entering certain industries, such as the military. For more details on BDSM AU within a CoD context, I highly recommend you read "Surviving You" by WhisperedWords12

“Do you know why you’re here, sergeant?” 

Price’s voice is calm, firm. There’s not a reprimand there, no gruff warning or the cold, leveled anger of immense displeasure. No, your captain stares at you with his hands folded under his chin, as you stand at a lazy parade rest before his office desk. His eyes are intent, focused in the way he always is, but there’s a concern there hidden by the attentive glint in his eyes.

You don’t look at him, staring down at the surface of his desk instead, not answering. Your eyes rest on a mug of coffee sitting atop a coaster, the steam gone. It’s long since gone cold. It speaks to his own distraction. With what, you’re not really sure. You can’t find yourself to care.

You haven’t slept in days.

It’s nothing to do with your workload. Nothing in regards to any sickness or fever of any sort. In fact, things have been rather quiet recently as the team awaits new marching orders. You’ve all been taking advantage of the downtime as much as possible, relishing the long lapse of respite for your own enjoyment. You’d even taken the chance to recently meet up with someone.

Being a sub requires a certain level of attentiveness to your self regulation. Doms, such as the ones on your team, can go long periods without needing a scene. Eventually they will need to scratch that itch, have someone soft and sweet kneel at their feet and be good for them. The aspect of control, of caretaking and dominance is a necessary part of their existence. It makes them good soldiers, able to take charge and provide insight into their missions.

Subs are uncommon in the military, and the surrounding societal stigma of their existence often relegates them to desk duty or intelligence work. It’s rare to find one in the field, and even then they don’t last long due to the frequent harassment from their dominant counterparts. It’s the reason you’ve concealed yourself for so long, posturing to stand alongside these men who are your comrades, feigning an aura of authority as you go willingly to your duty.

It doesn’t erase the thing inside you- the urge to kneel for someone safe, to listen to their low, rumbling voice as it rocks you into a floaty, warm surrender that relieves you of all tension and stress.

Too long without a scene, without subspace meant you were prone to an itchy, uncomfortable sort of irritation. It manifests as annoyance, a short temper, but eventually transitions into a depressive spiral with little end. Most of the time you can use one of the endorphin injections provided free by the infirmary to even yourself out. Such medical kits, known as SubStop and DomStop, were common in the field, designed to even out the irregular moods and imbalances left by a sudden twist in hormones. You’d gotten used to the nasty side effects, the inevitable crash that came in the wake of the adrenaline. It was easier than dealing with the team knowing your true designation, that you’ve been concealing yourself from them all this time.

Even so, sometimes you required a little extra handling to be able to regulate, feel comfortable and get out of your own head.

In your recent downtime you found someone just like that. A local dom who was calmer, more level headed than younger men on base who were interested purely in the sexual side of submission. You had talked for some time, had explored each other, and had ultimately agreed to meet up for a single session. You had both enjoyed yourself, had a welcome release of rushing endorphins, and for a moment you wondered if perhaps this would lead to something more. It all came crashing down as he began to dress following your scene.

“I don’t do aftercare.” He said blandly, and left.

You haven’t been the same since.

You’d gotten back to base tired, drained, and had curled into your bunk that night to cry yourself to sleep. In the days that have followed you’ve been exhausted, listless, entirely unfocused. Constantly dazed, you try to ignore the whimpering, festering emptiness inside you, feeling as if the world is too big, and you yourself are so very small. You turn into your bunk early in desperate search of sleep, trying vainly to power through the dark loneliness that permeates your entire being.

Subdrop. You knew as soon as your one night stand left, and promptly ghosted you. You knew by the sudden wash of cold, the tremble in your limbs, and the clenching, terrible regret of something wrong. Like tossed into an ice bath straight from the fire, the shock to your system makes you gasp, clutch at your chest at most random moments, wanting to double over due to the phantom pain there.

You know the solution. You know that pure, blissful aftercare will alleviate the effects of your scene gone wrong, but there’s no one to turn to. You can’t disclose to anyone on the team about this. They understand, they know, and they’d be ready to help you. It wasn’t that they weren’t available, but that disclosing yourself might somehow change your rapport with them. The idea that somehow they’d change their view of you, see you as less than was worse than the spiraling side effects of your freefall drop.

Maybe you can find someone to help off base, but even then you don’t trust your own judgment when your insides constantly feel scrubbed cold and raw. If anything, it might make it worse.

You have no choice but to just bite down and deal, and hope that in the coming days that the drop will naturally work its way out of your system. Nevermind the sleepless nights, the hours scrolling mindlessly in the darkness of your bedroom, the way you stare off into space and don’t hear the voices of others. 

The team is concerned about you. You’re not hiding your inability to cope very well. The bags under your eyes deepen with each passing day. You move as if pushing through water. You excuse yourself from the rec room when others enter for fear they’ll pull you aside and ask about your listless, depressive state. It’s all for nothing though, because here you find yourself in Price’s office, glassy eyes avoiding his stare.

“Sergeant?”

You blink as his voice prompts you from your reverie, and force yourself to glance up into his eyes before averting your gaze once more. 

“Apologies, Sir.” You force yourself to rasp, and frown, not knowing what you’re even apologizing for.

Price is silent. Observing. You feel pinned beneath his stare, try not to squirm under his scrutiny. 

“Sit.” He tells you, nudging a chair beside you with his foot. The command itself plucks inside your chest, the needed authority of his voice making something uncomfortable twist inside you. You slide into the seat, perching uncomfortably on the edge, hands folded in your lap. “Look at me.”

You do, you make the effort to look up into his unwavering stare, trying and failing to hide the fatigue in your eyes. 

“You’ve not been yourself lately.” He tells you, voice soft, and you grimace. “You’ve been walking around base like a ghost, barely completing your duties, and you’re clearly ignoring the rest of your team.”

The unsaid “Would you like to explain yourself?” Hangs in the silence that follows as you offer no response. There’s nothing to say, nothing you can say without the repercussions that follow.

“I’ve…just had a rough few days.” You tell him, voice tight. “It’s nothing I can’t manage.”

“You know you can rely on your teammates, love.” He reminds you gently, and you swallow hard at the endearment, feeling your shoulders tense. “Whatever it is, we’ll find a way to help. We all care about you.”

Find a way to help. Of course. With the one thing they can’t help you with.

“You can’t help.” You tell him, composure crumbling. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Price is silent, and if you were to look at him, you’d see the inklings of distress etched into his face. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, mouth pressed into a bitter frown as you try and hide it from him with little success.

Price rises from his chair, circles the desk to you before hesitantly laying a hand on your shoulder. You shudder a sigh at the contact, feeling yourself relax under the needed contact.

“There’s always something we can do.” He reassures you. “But I can’t help unless you tell me what it is.”

If only he could. If only your unwavering, steadfast captain with his guiding hands and gentle, smoky voice could help you, could alleviate the festering emptiness inside you. If only he could hold you the way you so desperately want, remind you what happened wasn’t your fault, allow himself to comfort you from the hurt clenching deep in your chest.

It all comes crashing down.

It starts as a hiccup, a stifled little sound you try to hide, and then your eyes are warm, wet with tears. They spill down your cheeks as you take an unsteady inhale, trying desperately to rein in your volatile emotions, conceal them from the man you admire so much. Try as you may, it’s without any success, because soon you begin to sob quietly with your head bent, face scrunching in an effort to stop your tears.

“It’s alright.” Price encourages softly, hand squeezing your shoulder. “Let it out.”

You do. It’s not a proper cry, not the true chest squeezing kind of cry that entirely empties you, but it serves a purpose in relieving a bit of the pressure inside you. Price stands beside you throughout, his hand drifting to knead gentle circles into the top of your spine as you shiver.

When you finally manage to get yourself under control, you scrub at your face with your jacket sleeve, heave a final shuddering exhale before summoning your resolve.

“Sorry, Sir.” You try again, voice muted, throat raw. “Truth is I…had a bad experience off base. It just shook me. I’ll get over it.”

You don’t need to go into further detail. It’s common knowledge soldiers hook up off base all the time, and Price knows this.

Yet suddenly his hand is tilting your chin up so you look directly into his grave, serious eyes. 

“Did they hurt you?” He demands, voice suddenly deeper, grim with a scarcely concealed anger. You blink at the sudden change, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes that sets something in your stomach aflutter. 

“N-no.” You manage, realizing what he’s referring to. “No, nothing like that-” You feel warmth crawl across your face, embarrassment prickling your skin. “It was all consensual.”

“Then…?” He presses, and you bite down on the words, refusing to bare this secret to him.

Price pauses then, shifts every so slightly and narrows his eyes. He’s thinking, considering, and you fear he’s seen straight through you. You don’t expect the words that come next.

“Are you dropping?” Price asks, strangely hesitant.

You freeze.

The silence that follows, heavy and persistent, tells Price all he needs to know.

At last, he sighs, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize he was holding.

“Oh love.” He murmurs, voice sad. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

You hunch over at that, hiding yourself from him, curling in on the physical sensation of disappointment that he’s given you. 

Price sees it for what it is instantly, realizing his words have only furthered the festering ache inside you. 

“Easy.” He gentles, and his hand is firm as it strokes between your tight shoulder blades. “I’m not angry.”

You sniffle into your shirt. “You…you’re not angry I hid my designation?” You ask in a raw whisper.

“No.” He replies instantly. “Only that we failed to make you feel safe enough to tell us.”

“...’s not your fault.” You murmur quietly. 

“And what happened isn’t yours.” He offers, just as gently. His hand continues its long, slow strokes between your shoulders, and you feel yourself easing under it, comforted by the mere touch of another person.

“Do you have anyone to…?” He presses carefully, retaining space between you. Not advancing, not without your permission.

It takes you a moment to snap yourself out of the glow beginning to simmer across your senses to understand. He’s asking if you are seeing someone, if you have a partner to provide assistance with your drop. A bitter frown tugs your lips downwards, remembering the words of the man you met before he vanished. 

“He…he said he doesn’t do aftercare.” You confess, voice small.

Price freezes.

You hear him take in a deep breath to steady himself, releasing it just as long in an effort to measure his anger.

“He did not do right by you.” He tells you, and in his voice you hear the ire, the offense on your behalf that clenches his hand atop his knee. Yet he unfurls it, and reaches out gently between you to gingerly rest it on your hand perches in your lap.

“I don’t mean to overstep.” He begins. “However, I can offer some assistance with this. Entirely on your terms. If you need someone to help, I can act as a…stand-in, as it were.”

You blink, face falling open in surprise as you stare down at your lap where his hand is. Reassuring but respectful, not crowding into your space. Asking for permission.

“You mean that?” You ask, finally looking up at him, voice cracking in a whisper that speaks of hope.

Price’s eyes are steady, calm as he regards you, Unflinching, intent, an anchor from the storm of your emotions.

“I do.” He returns easily, voice firm.

You swallow, face pinching as you consider. “And…what about after? Will it…” You trail off, the unspoken thing hovering in the air between you.

Will it change anything?

“No.” He replies quickly. “This is strictly between us. If you want to pretend like it never happened after, that’s what we’ll do.”

You hold his gaze for another minute, finally able to bear the stare of his blue eyes. You look for doubt there, an inkling of hesitation. Yet all you find is resolve and open, offering hands.

“Take some time to consider it.” He tells you in the lapse of silence that follows. “If you decide you’d like some help, you can come to my quarters tonight. If you decide against it, let me know.”

You manage a nod at that, swallowing the thickness in your throat and adjusting your hand under his in a small squeeze of thanks. It seems to be enough for him, because Price offers a smile, one that feels like it eases the tension radiating from your form just a little more. It takes a moment, but you sniffle and return the smile shyly.

“Right.” He announces, and gently withdraws from you to stand, assisting you to your feet as well and gently escorting you to the door of his office. You lean into his touch eagerly, feeling the firm grip of his palm at the small of your back. His voice rumbles with a gentle authority as he guides you forward. “In the meantime I want you to take the rest of the afternoon off, and to visit the infirmary for a check-up. You’re sleep deprived and dehydrated. Let them sort you. Understood?”

“Understood.” You echo dutifully, and once more that hand returns to your shoulder in a familiar grip, offering a small squeeze before he opens the door for you, his voice soft in a parting farewell.

“Take care, love. Let me know what you decide.”

—

In the end, you come to him.

It’s not a hard decision, but it does take some thought. You know his offer was genuine, with no ulterior motives. Almost clinical, doing his duty as your superior, in a way. You don’t deny that it hurts, considering the beginning of your feelings for him, but the doubt there is pressed down by the need for the assistance he offers. You hesitate only because you’re terribly afraid that things will change despite his words.

Would he try and bench you during missions? Have you hang back, underestimate you because of your designation?

You trust him, and that much is clear to you. You know Price won’t take advantage of you while you’re down. He’s a good man. You’ve handed your life to him in the field any number of times, trusting him to keep you safe and whole. This shouldn’t be any different.

…Right?

You swallow thickly as you knock thrice on his door, and almost instantly you hear his voice beckon you inside.

It’s dim, you notice, warm. There’s several blankets folded at the foot of his bed, a small assortment of snacks and water bottles set out on his dresser. Yellow light from his bedside light paints the room in quiet shadows. There’s a distant scent of cigars that lingers in the air, as if he’s done his best to air out the room before your arrival. It’s comforting in a way, a reminder of his scent in the few instances you’ve gotten physically close to him.

Price himself sits on the edge of the bed, limbs relaxed as much as he’ll allow them. He’s staring at you as the door shuts behind you, and if anything the dim shadows seem to make his eyes glint all the more. 

“How are you feeling?” Is the first question he asks you, and something aches inside you at the purposefully slow, soft tenor of his voice, still accompanied with a hint of his gruff rasp. 

“Shaky.” You tell him honestly, holding your trembling hands before your back. 

Price makes a small, considering sound, examining your rigid, tense posture and letting silence hang heavy between you both for a few moments. You squirm under his gaze, eyes averting shyly at the fixation of his gaze on you. 

Then he stands, takes two steps towards you. He stands just outside your personal space, tilts his head down to examine you with an unwavering, focused gaze. You have to restrain yourself from pushing forward, wanting desperately to fold into his arms, to let him hold you. It pulses inside your chest, tethered to the uncomfortably, empty ache sitting below your ribs.

“Will you let me help you?” He asks, voice a soft lull to your ears. It takes effort to not let your eyes flutter. You can already feel it creeping on you, that floaty, comfortable haze that offers to drown your senses in pillowy softness. You give him a small nod, only for a finger to tip your chin up towards him. It startles a breathy little sound from you, and you bite down on it a moment too late, teeth grazing your bottom lip. 

“Need to use your words, love.” He rumbles, and damn if your knees don’t wobble at that alone, the deep tenor of his voice, the gentle but authoritative force of his words. You can see the shadows of his eyes as he falls easily into his role, a gentle, insistent domination that you can’t help but follow like a moth to a flame.

“Yes.” You manage, heat rising to your face. “Yes.”

He smiles then, and this time you have to use your strength to stay upright, already wanting to go down to the floor in front of him, feel the wood beneath your knees. 

“We’re going to take this slow.” He tells you, his thumb brushing over your chin with a purposeful graze. “Need to work you through it, put you down and then bring you back up again. Can you do that for me? …Words, darling.” He adds when you once again nod silently. 

“Yes, sir.” You offer, trusting, sincere. 

There’s a dark look in Price’s eyes then, a hunger so swift and sharp it steals your breath in the single moment before it’s gone once more. 

“Good girl. Can you tell me your safe word?”

You blink at him a little dopily, distracted by his thumb circling slow circles on your chin. You wonder what it would feel like pressed on your tongue.

“Just colors, please.” You tell him breathily.

Price nods at that, satisfied. 

“Kneeling? Physical touch? Praise? Commands?” He goes on, and you nod eagerly at all of them before remembering to tac on your vocal approval. It seems to amuse him, your distraction, because you hear a chuckle rumble deep in his chest. 

“Very good, darling. Going to keep this nice and slow, get you all sorted. Can you be good for me?”

That does it, and you shudder a little into his touch, tilting your head so your cheek brushes against his knuckles with a whispered little “Yes, sir.”

Maybe it’s the drop, maybe it’s him, but you already feel like you’re gently descending into total relaxation, a surrender and trust to be taken care of. 

“That’s it.” He coos, wrapping one strong arm around your waist and gently guiding you back with him until his knees hit the bed. He sits, keeps you standing, one hand still tucked around your waist, just observing you. After a moment he reaches for a pillow, drops it to the floor just at your feet.

“Go ahead and kneel for me, sweet thing.” 

You try to gracefully lower yourself down, but with your wobbly legs you fall more than you descend. A careful glance up at him proves Price is trying to hide his mild amusement, his hand snaking from your waist up to your shoulder as you sink to your knees. It takes a few moments to settle, and once you do Price’s hand once catches your chin, tilting you to his gaze.

Oh. This…this is nice. You think, eyelashes fluttering. Here, kneeling comfortably, safe in his room, the quiet lull of base a distant murmur in the backdrop. It’s cozy, serene, and you can feel the low, cloudy sensation of subspace slowly wash over your senses. 

“Look at you.” He purrs, tapping your chin once to indicate you remain tilted up to look at him. “So far down for me already. Doing so well.”

The part of you that’s yet to let go, that clings on to that remnant, persistent tension of you swallows down the whine that threatens your throat. He seems to notice, tilting his head a little and blinking slowly, considering. 

“What do you need, love?” He asks, and you shake your head mildly, trying to find your answer amidst the confusion of your clouded senses.

“Don’t know.” You tell him honestly, and begin to fidget. “I…”

“Shh, that’s alright.” he soothes easily, knuckles grazing your cheek. “Need you to listen to me, angel. Can you do that?”

You nod quickly, eager, willing to entrust yourself to him, to listen to whatever commands he has to offer. 

“Good girl.” He returns, pausing to watch the shiver that traces across your limbs. “Go ahead and wrap your arms around my legs…just like that. Put your head right there on my knees. There you go.”

He maneuvers you slowly, gently, shaping you to his command as your arms settle locked behind his calves, chin pressed in the dip between his closed knees. He’s warm, and like this you can drink in the scent of him- smoky, musky, a hint of cologne he’s used to try and smother the smell of cigars.

In the dim, warm light you can see his eyes- dark, focused, unblinking as they gaze down at you settled comfortably at his feet. There’s a hitch in his breathing- a shallow indication of his reaction to the sight of you, with your hazy eyes and parted lips, well on your way down into subspace. 

“Give me a color, darling.”

“Green.” You breathe almost instantaneously. 

“Very good. How are you feeling?”

Your brow pinches at that, feeling the remnant tug of tension still pull as a dull ache in your ribs. 

“...Better?” You offer after an uncertain pause. Price looks a little dismayed at that, with his furrowed brow and down turned lips that tug the corners of his beard. It sends a little bit of alarm pulsing through you, afraid of his disappointment, perhaps a reprimand, and he feels it instantly in the way you stiffen against him.

“Easy, relax.” He gentles, a hand reaching to cup your nape. “Just checking in, love. There’s nothing wrong. You’re safe.”

You ease at that, eyelashes fluttering, sinking back into him once more.

“Good girl.” He purrs, thumb stroking in lazy circles across your nape.

“Thank you, sir.” You reply, voice slurring a little as you sink down.

If his fingers pause on your nape, you don’t notice, too distracted by the warmth and smell of him in your comfortable position.

It’s nice. You can feel yourself unwinding bit by bit, head propped in between his knees as you look up at him in the dim, warm light. There’s the beginnings of a relaxed sort of glaze to his eyes as he stares down at you wordlessly, taking in the soft, sweet sight of your open face. He’s falling into domspace, you can tell, allowing himself to relax into the role of taking care of you.

“We’re going to try some breathing exercises, sweetheart.” He announces after the long silence. “Deep breathe-” He sucks in a long, heavy inhale, and you mirror him, holding as long as he does, before releasing. “And out. Very good. Doing so well for me. Again.”

You mirror him as he breathes, feeling the tension slowly relax from your shoulders. With each inhale you drop your chin further into the cradle of his knees, feeling a warm haze descend over you. Each exhale releases a little more of the stiffness in your limbs, like loosening a knot tied in your chest.

You don’t even notice it when your cheek lolls against one of his knees, eyes half lidded as you gaze up at him. Nor do you notice the purposefully slow, even breaths he forces himself to take at your loose, pliant form crowded so close to him.

“There we go, angel. All the way down. So sweet and soft for me. Tap twice on my leg if you can still hear me.”

A small tap twice to the inside of his knee, and when Price smiles you feel gooey warmth bleed down into your bones.

“Very good.” He coos, knuckles grazing over the cheek not pressed to his knee in a featherlight touch. “Going to let you float for a bit. You can go down as deep as you need. I’ll be right here. Tap on my knee when you’re ready to come up.”

You cast a lingering gaze at him, eyes vaguely worried, but his voice hushes you easily.

“You’re safe. I’m right here, not going to leave. I’ve got you.”

You blink at him, slow, trusting, before you finally allow your head to drape across his knee, arms relaxing but maintaining their hold on his legs. A deep, fulfilling sigh breezes past your lips, and you feel yourself go sweetly down into a blissful haze of warm, dewy softness. Your breaths slow to deep, even inhales and exhales, and you feel your heartbeat pulse low in your ribs, where the ache and emptiness of your drop slowly begins to alleviate.

“There we go.” Price murmurs above you, a hand petting gently at your hair in a tender touch. “Went down nice and easy for me, didn’t you, sweet girl?”

You make a little hum against his leg, too comfortable and floaty to do much more than that. It seems to amuse him, somehow, and when he chuckles the sound warms you right through.

God this is nice. Just sitting here at his feet, pressed up close to his legs, snuggled in as close as you can get. With your cheek pressed against his knee you can drink in the heavy, comforting scent of him, let it cloud your thoughts and drift you further into blissful tranquility.

You don’t need to speak, to think or make decisions. Duties, secrets, resilience, you don’t need any of it. All you need is to just be here, pressed against Price, pliant and sweet as he rumbles soothingly down at you. 

“Doing well, love. Take as much time as you need. You’re safe.”

Yes. You’re safe. You’ve always been safe with him. There’s nobody in the world you trust more than Price. He’s saved your life many times over, has dragged you to safety, has slung your arm across his shoulder as he helped carry you, has offered careful, firm murmurs as he’s wrapped bandages across your wounds. He’s always taken care of you, in his own way. Each debrief comes with a hand across your shoulder, a long, sideways glance that says more than he can. 

You’ve never let yourself get close to him, too afraid of him finding out what you are, too afraid of his prejudice and judgment. 

Now that you’re here, curled up at his feet and drifting serenely, you wonder why you ever worried at all.

You stay like that for a long while, simply breathing, thoughts empty as you hug his legs, absorbing his warmth. The room is quiet, and in the soft after hours of base the only sounds you can hear is the slow, steady thump of your heart and Price’s low, measured breathing. 

You wish you could stay here forever, just being sweet and good for him, but eventually your knees begin to cramp up and you shift uncomfortably with a little whine.

“Eyes up, love.” Price tells you, words belaying a hint of firm command, and instantly you prop your chin to look up at him with soft, dewey eyes. 

You’re too lost to notice the way his eyes glint, the unblinking fixation of him as he simply takes in the sight of you- lost in the dopey haze of subspace, lips parted as you stare at him with a glassy, lidded gaze. 

“Look at you.” He breathes with a soft sigh, raising a hand to cup your face. You lean into it with a blissful little sigh. “Gorgeous thing.”

You squirm a little at that, skin warming with the praise. As you move to hide your face in his knees, Price keeps a hold of your chin, forcing you to stare up at him. 

“Mm, eyes on me. Just like that. Good.”

You wonder, amidst the cottony softness of your thoughts, what the purpose of this is, with him taking his time to just drink you in like he’ll drown without the sight. You can see his eyes tinted with the same wayward longing he offers you when you catch his gaze after missions- when he aches for you, longs to make sure you’re safe.

The ache in your knees returns, and a little whine bubbles up your throat, brow pinching with discomfort. 

“Feeling sore?” Price inquiries gently, and you nod into his hand. “Alright angel, sit up for me. Slowly…good. Good girl.”

You raise up a little on your knees, and soon Price leans over you, securing his hands on you to drag you further up and onto the bed. You allow him to arrange your heavy, sluggish limbs so you’re braced with your back against the headboard, nestled in his pillows. You go willingly, easing into his touch, content at letting him maneuver you as he pleases. 

When he moves away from you, however, you startle a little at the sudden absence of his touch. 

Price notices instantly, and once more you feel his hand stroke across your face, thumb descending to press against the plush bed of your bottom lip. 

“Just getting some snacks and water, love. Count to ten for me, I’ll be right back.”

That eases you some, and you nod, slowly counting. You get to eight before Price returns, dropping a bottle and a snack bar on his bedside table. 

“Scoot forward for me.” He instructs, and you obey as best you can, allowing him to shuffle you a little forward  further down the bed. It takes some maneuvering, but soon you find Price sitting up behind you, dragging you back so you sit inside the nest of his legs, back pressed to his front.

If you thought kneeling at his feet was nice, this must be heaven.

He’s so big and warm, and when an arm wraps around your front to keep you from falling too far down the bed, you distantly wonder if you ever want to come up at all.

Price adjusts, and you hear the sound of a wrapper being put aside before the snack bar appears in your line of vision. 

“Just a few bites.” He tells you, but makes no motion indicating for you to take the bar from his hands. 

You lean forward obediently, taking small bites from his hand as he provides them to you, quiet and appreciative, until the entire thing is gone. 

“Very, very good.” He murmurs, chin braced atop your head, huffing a pleased little sound when you squirm a little in his lap at the praise. “Like being told you’re good, don’t you, angel?”

You want to hide your face in his chest, but unable to do so your instead let your head drop forward a little, avoiding his eyes. 

“Shy thing, aren’t you?” He rumbles, pleased, and it only makes a rush of warmth trace across your skin at the deep, purring tenor of his voice in your ear. 

You get the feeling he wants to tease you a little more, but opts instead to wrap a hand under your jaw in a careful grip, lifting you up so he can graze the water bottle across your lips. 

“Just a few sips.” He encourages. “Then we can lay down and take a little snooze. How’s that sound?”

You nod eagerly at that, and readily drink down the water when he offers it to you. You’re about halfway down when you finally tilt your head away, and Price wordlessly deposits the bottle on the table. 

“Tell me a color, love.”

You have to think about it, past the hazy softness of you, brow pinching as your brain turns over the question.

“Green.” You reply with a little sigh, one that Price mirrors behind you. 

“Good girl. You ready to come up yet?”

You shake your head at that, frowning. Honestly, a part of you knows you have to come up at some point, but if you had it your way you’d stay like this forever, caught in his arms, warm and fed and cared for as his chest rises deep with every inhale. 

Price chuckles at your pouting little expression. When he bends forward to reach for a blanket at the bottom of the bed, he’s forced to curl over you, pressing you down with his weight. It’s startling how quickly you have to stifle a moan at the sensation, with his larger frame bracketing you in, engulfing you with the firm line of his body against yours.

He pulls back all too soon, drapes a blanket across your lap and up to your shoulders. It’s soft, a little worn, but it smells like him, and that’s all you need. You snuggle happily into it with a little hum, leaning back against him a little more until you’re completely situated. 

“There we go, angel. How’s that feel?”

“ ‘S nice.” You slur, tucking your head a little further down to nestle into the blanket. “Comfy.”

Price hums a pleased little sound, one hand still wrapped around your front, and now the other resting easily on your thigh, pressing in soft, lazy circles. It’s instantly soothing, and once more you can feel yourself drifting a little further down into that wordless, worriless meditation. 

“Close your eyes for me, love.” Price murmurs gently. “Slow, deep breaths.”

You comply readily, and as you feel his chest rise slow and deep behind you you force yourself to match it, dragging in a warm inhale that’s heavy with his scent. You follow him as he exhales, and then repeats once more. 

“Just like that.” He murmurs as you grow completely limp in his arms. “All the way down. Perfect.”

You’re too far under to even acknowledge him, senses heavy and sated as he curls himself a little further around you, hand stroking lazy patterns along your thigh.

“Rest now, darling. I’ll be here when you come up.”

Regardless of the command, you find yourself drifting easily into stillness, a languid little sigh releasing all the tension in your body before sleep descends dusky and tender over your senses. 

—

It’s still dark when you finally wake up, sluggish and heavy. The room is still warm and dim, quiet with the low, steady thump of your heartbeat. It’s the first thing you notice aside from the contented weight of your limbs.

The second is the pair of arms wrapped around you, tucking you close into Price’s front as you both lay on your sides. 

“Awake?” He rumbles, and with the soft hoarse of his voice you can tell he’s been dozing as well, not fully asleep, still present for you to wake up and he told you he’d be.

“Mhm.” You mumble, ignoring the self conscious little flutter at being caught in his arms like this. 

“Feeling better?” Price asks, and makes no move to shift away or dislodge you from his hold. 

“Much.” Your eyes are level with his collarbone that peeks beneath his shirt, and there you see an old, silvery scar that snakes up towards his jugular. You wonder about the story there, about how this man has seen so much violence and yet somehow can still be so gentle.

“Thank you.” You whisper, feeling that warm haze now gently ease, and in its place a comfortable awareness free from the empty, clenching side effects of drop. “For all of this.”

Price is silent for a moment, and you wonder if perhaps you said the wrong thing. His voice is low, deep as he speaks.

“He shouldn’t have treated you like that” He rumbles, and there’s a hint of darkness there, one that melds with his hold on you tightening just a fraction, as if he’s too possessive to let you go. “If I-”

He stops himself then, words biting into nothingness. You hold your breath, waiting for more, but it doesn’t come. Instead, the silence envelops you both, soft and warm, a touch bitter with unspoken words. 

“I understand why you didn’t tell us, love.” He speaks at last. “And I trust you’ll understand when I say we will never judge you for anything but yourself.”

Emotion, hot and thick, rises up through your belly. It scrunches your face, warms your eyes as you sniffle against him.

This is what you wanted. The entire time, all of this hiding and secrecy and anxiousness. You wanted to be accepted, to be held, to be cherished, by him.

“I wish it was you.” You whisper, scarcely audible. “The entire time, I wished it was you.”

Price stiffens at that, and you’re certain he’s going to pull away, to declare this scene is over and gently escort you out. You wonder vaguely if you’ll hurtle straight back into drop with his rejection. 

“If I had known-” He murmurs in an echo of his previous words. “I would have offered myself much sooner.”

You look up at that, tilting your head so your eyes no longer look at his chest, but into his eyes. Soft, sincere, achingly tender in a way that plucks the defenseless heart strings inside you.

“You mean that.” You state then, voice scarcely containing your hope. 

Price makes a little rumbling hum down at you, his hand flexing at the small of your back. 

“Only if you’ll have me, angel.”

Angel.

Now, here, out of subspace, away from the cottony softness of him guiding you down. Instead he calls you this beloved endearment because it’s you, because he wants you.

It’s all you’ve ever wanted- to be here, to be in his arms, to entrust yourself to him so wholly and completely that he becomes the only thing for you with his gentle guiding hands and stern, smoke laden words. 

“I’m your captain.” He tells you, one hand grazing your cheek in a beloved touch. “But if you ever need more, all you need to do is ask.”

The words inside you seem to buzz soundlessly in the cavern of your thoughts. There’s so many things you want to say, to confess, to ask of him. Yet here, in this moment, the only thing you can offer him is the thing you’ve said from the beginning.

“Please.”

And- oh. Oh, his smile, the way it tugs at his beard and makes the smile lines crinkle at the corner of his eyes, pleased and soft even as his eyes glint in the darkness. A quiet, profound gratitude of which he speaks little, and yet feels so deeply. 

“Can I stay?” You ask, voice small but hopeful, and Price’s eyes twinkle with an amusement that swoops low in your stomach.

“Who said you were leaving?”

You smile at that, and if anything it makes the corners of his lips tug tighter, a low, pleased rumble vibrating through his chest pressed close to yours. 

“Rest, darling.” He encourages once more. “There will be time in the morning.”

There will be. There will be time come morning, and there will be time after. There will be time for the touches that follow, and the words that precede them. There will be time for his familiar control to settle comfortably over you, for you to slowly but fully surrender to him. There will be time for you to become his entirely, and for you to go willing into his guiding hands. 

Yet here, in his arms, safe and whole, you silently wish that dawn will never come.

I already posted this over on AO3 but figured I would post this on here as well. Enjoy!

#price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x you #to add to masterlist

[moonydustx]

A not so funny story

requests | mastelist

Summary: With Uta controlling everyone and the marine attacking, you needed to contain an unconscious Law who was looking to join the fight. Now, you need to deal with the consequences of him finding out about this.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: blood, Law hurts Reader (not on purpose), they both love each other, but they are idiots who don't know how to talk. Law doesn't know how to express his feelings in this one. Angst, kinda fluff/happy ending.

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: I just saw the movie Red and the idea came to my mind. I need to shake off the rust and get back to writing, I thought it would be a good solution. Despite being linked to the film OP Red, there may be some things that differ from the canon.

For those who haven't seen the film, a spoiler-free context: in the film, we see a singer called Uta, who Bepo is a fan of and, together with Law, go to the show. Problems happen, she puts everyone to sleep and with her power, she manipulates these sleeping people to fight with other people who want to stop her.

italics apply to flashbacks and thoughts

Part 2 | Part 3 (NSFW)

The cold stone beneath you contrasted with your hot, sweaty body. You could feel the wounds burning on your body and if you reached out your hand, you could find the cause of them, your captain.

In the distance, you could hear someone calling your name and it didn't take long for Penguin to appear in your field of vision.

"Are you okay?"

"He gave me a hard time, but I'm fine. And you?" You grumbled, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Apparently everyone had gone back to sleep.

"We're tired but fine. You're bleeding, do you need any help?"

"Everything is fine." You stood, with his help. "We need to get them out of here, I doubt the marines will miss the chance to catch so many pirates gathered in one place. At the very least, this will end in a fight."

You chose to help carry Bepo back to Polar Tang. Even though he was big, sharing the weight would be much easier than carrying Law alone. As soon as you entered the submarine, you disappeared from sight, leaving all of Uta's fight behind.

"Do you guys need help? I can see some pretty bad injuries from here." Ikkaku approached, already stopping the blood on your forehead. "Are they both okay?"

"We should take them to the infirmary and keep them under observation." you warned, seeing two other crew members carry them out of sight. "Can we get away from the fight?"

"Yeah, off their radar." someone answered you in the background.

"Perfect, keep us at this depth, keep an eye on the radios, any sign of change, if Law hasn't woken up, you look for me." You leaned against one of the tables, trying to ignore some of the pain in your body.

It was supposed to be just a quick show, at least that's what Bepo had said. Unfortunately for Law, he ended up being the polar bear's requested companion.

"Sure you don't want to change places with me?" Law appeared next to you, while you finished cleaning the kitchen.

"No captain, I'll be right here, with my duties." You smiled at him and, despite being frustrated, he let out a sideways smile.

"You know that I'm the captain right? That I can give the order and you have to go and I don't."

"You wouldn't be so mean, would you?" you asked indignantly and on one of the few occasions, you heard him laugh, even if it was low tone. "Captain!"

"I'm kidding. Just keep an eye on everything, okay? Don't let Shachi and Penguin cause any trouble."

"Yes, sir. And you, enjoy the show."

You were almost regretting not accepting the proposal. Law would certainly be much better at containing you and preventing you from getting into a big fight than you would be doing the opposite. But you liked the idea of ​​him trusting you.

"Everything is alright?" Ikkaku took you out of your reverie, noticing your body slightly bent and the blood falling on your forehead.

"Try holding back a furious Trafalgar Law from wanting to get into a fight and tell me if that's okay." You laughed, even though it took some of the air out of you. "Just a few bruises, nothing major."

"Come on, I'll help you take care of this." Ikkaku gently pulled you by the hand.

"Boys, do you deal with them?" you asked and they both nodded. "If Law wakes up, don't say anything to him about our little fight."

"You mean, about the big fucking beating he gave you?" Shachi teased you, earning a push.

"Exactly. He has bigger problems to worry about than dealing with this."

You and Ikkaku headed towards the dorm you shared. Your friend made a point of supporting you at every step, even if you insisted it wasn't necessary. She sat you down on the bed and grabbed a small first aid kit hidden on one of the shelves.

"Why not tell the captain?"

"Outch" you mumbled with one of the stitches she had on your face. "I have a feeling he's not going to like that we got into this fight without his presence."

"I think he'll be more resentful that you were the one who held him back." You laughed at her silly observation, then grumbled with another needle. Damn fight. "Don't act stupid."

"What you mean?"

"I'll let you choose. Between you being the only one who can steal books from him without him complaining or about every time we disembark, you having to be on his side. Should I mention that time he freaked out because Kid wanted to take you to the crew from him?" she laughed to herself, at her own memory. "What do you need to see that he likes you too?"

"And who said I like him?"

"Okay, you still want to keep hiding your feelings for him, just hide it better." she laughed again. It was clear to her - and anyone else who saw - that there was something between the two of you. You just prefer not to feed this illusion. "Still, I agree that he won't like all this one bit. Let's try to keep out of his sight."

Law was still trying to assimilate everything that happened. Uta's show had turned into a war scene and in the end, even he had become a puppet. That idea would haunt him for a long time.

Despite recent events, Polar Tang was quiet, too quiet. He could hear some buzzing, nothing he could identify. Another thing he couldn't place was you. The last time he saw you, he had tried to bargain for your presence at the show, even though he had asked to change places with you, he didn't think the idea of ​​going with you was bad. You'd probably hate the song, but he'd enjoy your sarcastic comments about any awkward situation. A small laugh crossed his lips when he thought about what you would say to see little Bepo.

At dinner, he observed Shachi, Penguin and Bepo, talking to each other. The concerned expressions denoted the seriousness of the matter, but that could come later. Even though he slept through it all, he still felt tired.

At lunch the next day, again, nothing from you. Ikkaku was also missing. It was impossible for the two of them to have disappeared together and without any justification. He tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios, but no matter how much he denied it, he wasn't such an optimistic person.

It only took a few seconds of your three companions stalling for him to know that you and Ikkaku were up to something or had already been up to something. He left them behind, following with firm steps to your room.

"I didn't see you two at lunch or yesterday at dinner, I wanted to know..." you two found Law leaning against the door of your room. His relaxed position disappeared in seconds when he looked at where Ikkaku's hand joined your forehead. "What happened?"

"Just a few scratches, nothing major." your colleague replied before you could open your mouth. She knew - actually, you weren't that good at hiding it - about your feelings and how easily you could wrap your head around your own words.

"Yeah, they're from yesterday, some scratches." you tried to complement, the captain's serious expression made it clear that that hadn't helped at all.

"Nothing much and that's why you haven't shown up since yesterday?" he grumbled and before he could continue his lecture, he felt his body being pushed forward, with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin falling beside him. "What the fuck?"

"We just wanted to know if you already know that she was the one..." before the bear finished speaking, the other two covered his mouth.

The grey eyes trailed from you to Ikkaku, to the group lying next to him, and back to you again. The small stress that was forming inside Law turned into concern when he saw the small trickle of blood dripping from your eyebrow.

It only took a few moments away for you to appear like that and he would never tolerate that, you didn't need to know about his feelings or how he was already thinking about taking revenge on whoever had done that, he would deal with it after taking care of your wound .

"Everyone out." you made to follow Ikkaku, stopping a few meters away. "Not you, I need to see this."

The door to the small room knocked subtly behind Law, who waited for a few seconds to approach you. The two of you already had a considerable height difference, but when you felt Law's cold, tattooed fingers on your chin, you felt even smaller. He turned both sides of your face, despite the cold touch, you could feel your skin burn beneath his fingers.

"You're warm, but I don't see any trace of infection." Not this one, you thought. "Give me the name?"

"Name?"

"Which idiot did this?" he replied without much patience, his fingers leaving your face behind.

"This is going to be a funny story." you laughed, stopping immediately when you saw him look deep into your eyes, his expression serious in an almost irritating way.

"Someone decided to hurt one of my crew. I don't think it's such a funny story. Who did it?"

"Captain of the Heart Pirates, Trafalgar Law." your answer didn't seem to catch him instantly, with each word that left your mouth, you could see him getting paler and paler. "I believe you already know, but Uta managed to control everyone who was asleep to attack the pirates and the marines and with that, you and Bepo were also controlled. The boys held Bepo and I had to deal with you, but everything is fine. "

"They told me about Bepo..." he seemed lost for words, taking a certain distance from you and leaning on the small table in your room. "So you restrained me, alone?"

"You, actually Uta, didn't have access to your Devil Fruit powers, it ended up being easier. After all, our mission was just to keep you two away from the navy." you explained, leaning on the opposite side to where he was, seeing his crestfallen expression. "Like I said, it's okay captain."

"Where else did I hurt you?" the question took you by surprise, making it difficult to hide your reaction. "I know my strength, I have a feeling it wasn't just that. I could see it myself, but I trust you, so please."

With your fists clenched and your gaze following your every step, Law could see your hand go to your ribs, along with a grumble, as you bent down to pick up a small cloth and fill it with something that smelled similar to alcohol. As much as he noticed you trying hard, he could see you limping. He watched you smear the contents on one of your cheeks and your arm, revealing some bruises.

You stopped in front of him, letting him analyze. Despite the pain throughout your body, Law's proximity was almost like an anesthetic. If he stayed there, you wouldn't mind spending the day under his gaze. Law took your arm, gently sliding his fingers under the bruise, watching you flinch in discomfort. His hands practically put your arm back in place and placed themselves on the zipper of your jumpsuit.

Your hands placed themselves next to his, pulling the device and opening the entire piece. Of all the times he had dreamed of touching your skin, none had felt like this. He liked to imagine how soft it would be, to think about how your body would shiver, to feel with his own lips every piece of exposed skin, while he heard you ask for more. All the purple spots he had dreamed of leaving on your skin were nothing like the one he saw. Thoughts would need to be put aside at that moment.

His hand knocked down one side of your jumpsuit, showing the large bruise on your rib, which made him hold his breath for a few seconds.

"What else?" his voice was barely audible. He knew there was more to it, but he didn't want to be invasive.

"Just this cut." you took off the other strap of your jumpsuit and let it fall below your waist, showing the wound on your thigh. It wasn't that big, but when you both looked at the place, you understood where all the warmth in your body was coming from. "Shit. It wasn't like this last time I looked." actually it was, you just wanted to spare him the worry.

You adjusted your jumpsuit, leaving the top hanging around your waist. Your eyes searched for Law's, but he seemed to be far away, even just a few centimeters away. For some time, he didn't say anything. His eyes followed one point you had shown and others, looking for other signs. His hands prostrated in front of his body, why had he done that? Why hurt you?

"Law?"

"I...I..." the words seemed stuck somewhere inside him. His hands placed themselves next to your face, a gesture you hadn't received from him yet. "I don't know how to apologize. Forgive me, I didn't want any of this to happen."

"No need, Law, really. I was doing what any of us would do, taking care of our crew, taking care of our captain."

Again the words seemed to have escaped him. He just wished he could hold you and apologize a thousand times, hold you there and heal every little part of you and never allow anything to hurt you again. Some conscious side of him screamed in the background that this wasn't anyone's fault, but the sound seemed so far away to hear, while the picture of what he had done was so close to him.

A few seconds passed, his hands were still on your face, while you just enjoyed the awkward affection you received. He didn't know how to deal with that feeling, it was a guilt like he had never felt. Along with a fear, a need to see you well. There were too many things to deal with and at that moment, he chose to be the most rational one.

"It's infected and may have broken something." Law let his medical side take control of the situation. "Room. Shambles."

Before you even noticed the blue dome surrounding you, the two of you had already been transported to the infirmary. You remained standing in your place as you watched the captain hurriedly walk around the room, collecting some materials and before you could try to get on the stretcher, the two of you were already being taken to another place.

The table full of books, the small window of the Polar Tang showing some little orange fish passing by outside, a cozy bed, even with the sheets spread out. That definitely wasn't your room. You watched Law leave the materials on the table and reach Kikoku. You saw the blue dome again, this time, you knew that he was using his powers to confirm that you had indeed presented all your injuries to him.

"I was worried about your rib, but apparently it was just the bruise. Now about your leg, I may need to redo those stitches and medicate you. I can't let the infection spread."

You knew he was nervous, bordering on anxious, but you had known him long enough to know that stopping him from treating you would be even worse. You had chosen to hide your injuries so that Law wouldn't feel guilty, now that he knew, you didn't have much else to do.

"Law." you called out to him carefully, as he prepared the medication. "Do you mind if I bathe first?"

"Sure, I mean, no problem. Just wait a second." He walked away from the table and piled up some things, which he handed into your hand. "Here's my towel, I also left some clothes in case you want to use them, if you don't want to, that's okay. I can ask Ikkaku..."

"This is perfect, thank you Law." you hugged the small bundle of clothes close to your body.

"Room." again, in a matter of seconds, you were at the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, but your leg is really hurt, you shouldn't force it while walking."

"Okay" unlike the time he had taken you to the infirmary, now he had transported you close to each other, which made the air disappear from your lungs. "Can you wait for me? I mean, you said I wouldn't I should force my leg and..."

"I'll be outside, just call me and I'll be here." Please call me, Law's inner voice practically screamed.

Your shower was much quicker than you expected. Just knowing that he was waiting for you outside made butterflies fight in your stomach. You gently dried your body and took the clothes he had given you. Something that looked like shorts - it might have been underwear, but you didn't worry about that right now - and a black button-down shirt. As soon as you button the last button, you can pay attention to the smell of the fabric. Something soft, woody, you wondered if that was his scent.

"Law?" All it took was a small call and he soon entered the bathroom. Not as discreetly as he expected, his eyes roamed your body. "Can you help me?"

"Of course" your feet left the floor, giving you a few seconds to assimilate that he had picked you up and carried you back to the room. He hadn't done this before, but you preferred to just enjoy the sensation, locking your arms around his neck.

With a few steps inside the room, he placed you lying on the bed, pulling a rod further to the side, only then did you notice the hanging IV.

Law bent down, reaching your arm level, cleaning it with a small piece of cotton. He looked at the wound on your leg. In silence, he cleaned the area and took some bandages, placing them across the entire length of the wound. The contrast between your warm skin and his cold hands was strangely comfortable. You wished they would last a little longer there.

"I think we can leave these stitches for another day, but I need you to take this medicine. It's an antibiotic, the infection is small, but I'd rather take care of it soon." He pulled the small needle, seeing your face pale. "I'm sorry darling, but it's the best option we have."

Darling.

That word would echo in your mind for a long time. The fear of the needle that was about to come into contact with your skin eased when you saw the care he took with each gesture.

"Just don't look, okay?" He waited for you to close your eyes. "Just a few seconds and that's it. You'll feel sleepy, but that's normal. As soon as you wake up, I'll bring you something to eat."

He got up and started to adjust the pillows on the bed, the ones that were around and under you. His hands rested around your body, his body was on top of yours, even without any immediate contact. It was inevitable not to get lost in his eyes, or see him do the same with yours. You would like to engrave that in your memory, forever.

"Are you comfortable?" his face still had the same tense expression from the first moment he found you in the room.

"I am, I promise." you replied, in a burst of courage, you brought your hand to his face, touching his cheek. "Law, what worries you so much?"

He walked away, sitting at the foot of the bed. You just straightened up so you could look at him. His tattooed hands took off his hat, fingers tangling against the dark strands.

"I can't deal with the fact that I did this. I did this to you. Of all the people that could have been there, I hurt you." he grumbled, turning so he could look at you. "You do not understand."

"Actually, I understand." your answer left him stunned for a few seconds. "But don't blame yourself, you didn't choose this, captain"

"I know, but at the same time..." he huffed, trying to find the right words, which scratched his insides every time he looked at your scourged face. "You understand me, huh? I mean, I don't just see you as a crew member and something tells me you don't just see me as your captain. And knowing that of all the things that could have happened, I hurt you. I promise compensate you for everything."

"About what you said, about what we see in each other." your thought was interrupted by a long yawn. "What should we do about this?" You made to get up, but the IV attached seemed to transmit drowsiness straight to your body. Your eyes were already starting to get heavy.

"That we can deal with this later. You took care of me, now it's my duty to take care of you. For that, you need to rest." His hands reached yours, giving a slight laugh when he saw you fighting with your own eyes, wanting to leave them open. "I promise not to hurt you again or let anyone else hurt you."

Before you fall asleep for good, you can feel his lips on your hand.

#one piece #op imagines #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #no use of y/n #fiction #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #requests open #one piece film red #heart pirates

[spacerockfloater]

Being a female viewer and hating Criston Cole is deranged.

I have to get this off my chest. The blind hatred that Criston is receiving from women is insane and I’m going to explain why.

For context, I am talking about Show Criston, not Book Criston. Comparing two standalone versions of a story is silly.

I cannot wrap my head around the fact that so many women, who are the primary victims of utilitarian relationships, would ever come together and shit on Criston for enduring such a situation.

I’m sorry, but how many of you have been used by men? How many of you have been reduced to one night stands, situationships and placeholder wives? How many of you have been deemed “not good enough” to be an exclusive partner? I log into tiktok and I see NOTHING but stories of broken women who are just used for sex, money, care and whatnot by men, and then they are tossed away like worthless trash while said men continue their pursuit of the ideal woman. Being used by men just for sex and being denied the status of girlfriend, let alone wife, is probably one of the worst plagues women are experiencing in the western world because the MOMENT we were emancipated, men understood that they don’t owe us shit anymore and instead of treating us with respect, they decided to grab whatever they can and give nothing back. Do not tell me that there are women out there that are fine with this arrangement because the multiple “GWM while I tell you about the guy that was with me for 12 years and then married someone else” tell a different story, one of multiple women’s dignities being trampled by hungry men. My heart breaks for every woman (EVERY woman, cis, trans, EVERY woman) who has been called by a man she loves just for sex, for every woman whose man never wanted to be seen in public with her, for every woman who had to hear that her man is not ready for a relationship only to witness him getting engaged to another woman 2 weeks after. I hope you overcome this and become stronger and I am glad that we are finally supporting one another.

How can we then, the women who are helping other female victims rise up and speak out against this kind of abuse, push Criston down and tell him to suck it up and accept being Rhaenyra’s plaything? Have we no mercy? Are we so hungry for revenge against men that we’d want them to endure the same humiliation that we did, as if one fictional man’s suffering would bring us justice? Are we so jealous that Criston didn’t sit down and just take it like the rest of us, but instead spoke up and removed himself from that situation? Or are we so gullible that we accept what the screenwriters shove down our throats and unknowingly support the patriarchic view that if you’re being used by someone you should just accept it?

I can hear some of you arguing that “Oh, this is different because Rhaenyra is royalty!” as if being used and tossed by a powerful person somehow makes the situation any better? Would it be okay if a rich person wanted to constantly use you for sex while he keeps looking for a better woman to be by his side, just because he values his wealth and status more? Rhaenyra straight up sneered at the idea of a simple life with him. She straight up told him that HE is not worth as much as her crown. OUCH. Even though I can’t even begin to imagine the pain of being told you are not enough by your loved one, it was Rhaenyra’s right to choose what her priorities are, but WHY would he have to accept being her sidepiece? “These were different times”: does this make it any less devastating for the victim? And he was a victim because Rhaenyra still used Criston and misled him by constantly complaining about how she HATES her duties for YEARS and then luring him to break his oath. Do you think he would have still slept with her if he was aware that moments ago, Rhaenyra was begging on her knees to be fucked by Daemon and only turned to Criston because her first option was no longer available? Like, the man was contemplating having sex with her and resisted her for a good fucking while, so imagine how quickly he would have turned around and walked out that door if he had that information beforehand. You know why? Because he loved her. He loved her to the point that he broke his oath for her, the oath of a station he FOUGHT FOR IN A WAR. He shed blood and sweat and risked his life for the mere opportunity to gain that position. This was ALL he had, he came from NOTHING and he was still willing to toss it all away for Rhaenyra not once, but twice. It wasn’t just sex he wanted because we never see him have sex again after that. He became vulnerable and gave up everything that he was to be with Rhaenyra. He was willing to abandon his whole identity for her sake. Is this not what the ideal partner is? Ready to abandon everything for your shake? Everything he fought for, tooth and nail? Was he unreasonable in thinking that Rhaenyra was willing to do the same for him? Was he crazy to think that because he was ready to put everything he FOUGHT for aside for her shake, Rhaenyra would also put aside a duty she was handed and actively seem to hate for him too? Fuck no! After hearing her constant talk about how she hates her father, her duties, her refusal to wed other men, how she is trapped as a princess, how people have no idea how much it SUCKS being her, why would he not assume that she’d be willing to give it all up for him, as he’d do for her We never see Rhaenyra even TRY to be a ruler, just complain about it. Of course it would be a fucking shock to him hearing her say “Lol dude, I actually do kinda want this”.

Criston was actually the only person in the series that wanted Rhaenyra for her, not her money or crown. I’m not saying she had to follow him, it was her right to refuse him, but his willingness to lead a simple life with just her has got to mean something. And don’t give me that “he only wanted to redeem his honour by marrying her” crap, because first of all Criston nutted up and admitted everything to Alicent and was ready to face death without EVER blaming Rhaenyra for anything, and second of all, oh no, how dare a human being have ethical values and desire to live with dignity in society’s broad light rather than move in the shadows as the princess’s secret boytoy! Bad, bad Criston for feeling you have to atone for your sins. Maybe we as people have become so corrupt that we envy those who wish to walk a virtuous path in life. Or maybe y’all have become so fond of the unhinged unapologetic character trope because it feels “original” (even if it’s ridiculously overused nowadays) that you’ve actually forgotten what characters with good morals are. Like, picking your fave war criminal and rolling with them because you enjoy good drama, especially in a show that’s meant to provide entertainment, is one thing, but passionately stating that Criston had to submit to that humiliation is something else entirely.

Finally, let’s ditch the Criston being a misogynist bullshit because he had NO issue obeying Rhaenyra before their affair or Alicent. And he is ALWAYS true to himself and his values, because even after everything he endured, he did not use Alicent’s anger as an excuse to take revenge on Rhaenyra and harm her children. Criston never betrayed her, Rhaenyra used him and he walked away and he went towards the only person who seemed to spare him some sympathy and understand him and not condemn him for his crimes even if he hated himself, which is typical victim mentality. And don’t get me started on the Joffrey incident because y’all tore Cole to SHREDS for it. Joffrey had it fucking coming. You don’t go up to people’s faces, especially ones you don’t know, threaten them by telling them you know their secret, a secret that SHAMES them and burdens them to the point they’re ready to commit suicide, and all but directly call them a whore. What the fuck did he think was going to happen? They’d shake hands? Piss off. Let this be a lesson to anyone that doesn’t know how to keep their mouths shut and their noses out of other people’s business. Also, mocking his suicide attempt makes my stomach turn. Just take a moment to consider all the young women who just like him, reluctantly surrendered their virginities to men only to find out they were nothing but sex dolls in their eyes, all these girls whose trust led to their secret being spread and them getting ridiculed and slut shamed for it: how many girls have taken their own lives because they found living with such a burden unbearable?

For the love of everything you hold sacred, please wake up sisters. The narrative that you can be used by someone powerful and you have to accept it because that’s the way things are is a man’s construct. Do not let them fool you.

#house of the dragon #hod #game of thrones #asoif/got #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #rhaenyra targaryen #criston cole #alicent hightower #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti criston cole #anti alicent hightower #pro rhaenyra targaryen #pro criston cole #pro alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #team black #team green #house stark #house hightower #house targaryen

[cheapshrimpysheep]

You... Cheater? - Side Characters

SUMMARY: They saw you making out with some random demon. But only after talking to you will they find out that it wasn't you after all. It was a demon impersonating you. But how did they feel before realizing this and how did they react to the relief that it wasn't really you they saw?

(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)

CHARACTERS: Side Characters (Diavolo; Barbatos; Simeon & Solomon)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss, Tears, a little Angst (I think)

WORD COUNT: An average of 540 words per character.

👉 You… Cheater? - Demon Brothers

COMMENTS: I was looking for prompts and saw something like “cheating” or “How would they react to being cheated on?” But I don't like cheaters, this would be to sad. However, they thinking they were cheated on, but in fact they were deceived and you comfort them, that looked like a better option to me.

I hope you enjoy ;)

P.S.: I wrote Solomon's part after Lesson 17 of Nightbringer

CONTEXT: He was walking the streets of Devildom and he saw you! Or at least someone he thought was you. The appearance was exactly like yours! And you were making out with some random lower demon, that was unmistakable. That he could see clearly without a doubt.

(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)

It's not normal for Diavolo to walk around alone. Barbatos would not allow that. That's why he escaped him and used a spell to disguise himself. When he sees “you”, he's more confused than shocked. But can't help but feel a sinking in his heart. He didn't feel the effect of a control spell, one who had forced you to do that. Which means that person was doing it of their own free will. And maybe that's why he didn't notice the shapeshifting spell.

He will not interrupt “you”, that would be impolite. But he still thinks something is wrong. He goes back to the Demon Lord's Castle and orders Barbatos to invite you to meet him. His butler didn't question and didn't dare scold him about shirking his duties for a walk, because Diavolo had his rare serious expression.

When you arrive, Barbatos leads you to the Garden, where diavolo is sitting in front of a table with tea and cookies. You assume it's just a little date, since you don't know what he saw. Barbatos pulls out the another chair for you to sit in while Diavolo greets you with a smile, and then he leaves the two of you alone, saying if you need anything just say the word.

He asks you how are you and how was your day. You say it was a pleasant, peaceful day. You spent the afternoon in Purgatory Hall, learning some recipes from Simeon and Luke and teaching them some recipes from your home. You guys did so many things that you even took the opportunity to bring some sweets for Diavolo and Barbatos.

He stares in amazement at your innocent smile and the box you hand him. “Have you been with them all afternoon?” He asks “You never went out to buy ingredients or something like that?” You find those questions a little strange, but answer honestly, that you went out with them at a time to buy some ingredients. “Did you ever leave their side?” No. Why? What's going on?

He laughs out loud in relief. He apologizes to you for making you so confused and tells you what he saw. He had invited you to talk about it and your relationship, but it seems that it was all a misunderstanding after all. And he's so relieved he can't even hide it well.

You are shocked by what he told you. And you tell him that you would never do such a thing, you'll never make out with a random person in the street. And that you love him. He brings his chair closer to yours, puts an arm around you and kisses your cheek passionately. “I know my love. I know very well the person I fell in love with. That's why I thought it was strange and I needed to see you and talk to you.”

What he doesn't tell you is that he's going to find the demons responsible for that and punish them. He is generally peaceful, but such disrespect cannot go unpunished.

Barbatos was probably doing some errands for Diavolo. When he sees “you”, he just freezes in shock. He tries to understand if you are bewitched, but you don't feel any control spell that forced you to do that. And somehow also misses the shapeshifting spell. But that doesn't stop him from thinking something was wrong.

He ends up just withdrawing to finish his task and return to the Demon Lord's Castle. Once in the palace, he asks Lord Diavolo for permission to meet with you, as there was a matter he needed to discuss with you. He gives him permission and Barbatos goes to the House of Lamentation.

Nothing seems strange, except maybe for Lucifer, which is the one that knows the behaviour of Barbatos best. He arrived as if nothing was wrong, asking if you were home and if he could speak to you. You were with the brothers in the room and he asked to speak with you alone. You ended up going to your room.

“I'm sorry for showing up so unannounced, but I'd like to discuss a subject that I just came across today.” he says and pauses to see your reaction, which is just a questioning one. “I ended up coming across you and that demon today on the street. I just wanted to clarify what happened.”

But you have no idea what he's talking about. He didn't seem to be talking about any of the brothers. “So would you mind tell me where you were this afternoon?” You were with Solomon. You had a sorcery lesson with him today. You spent most of the afternoon with him in Purgatory Hall. “Do you mind if I ask him if he confirms that?” You feel a little bad that he doesn't trust you, but you say you don't mind and he calls Solomon.

When the call ends and Barbatos hangs up, you see his shoulders relax. And you hear a little sigh. “I apologize profusely. My behaviour conveyed the idea that I don't trust you, but that's not the truth. I just...” he tries to find the right words but to no avail. “No, there is no excuse for my distrust. I’m sorry.” and then he tells you what he saw.

You look as shocked as when he saw “you”. “So I can assume that who I saw was someone pretending to be you.” He smiles at you “You have no need to worry about it, my dear. I will find those responsible for this and give them the most suitable punishment.” He was smiling, but the aura around him was frightening. This was the smile that even Diavolo and Lucifer feared.

Despite this you try to calm him down a little. He smiles at you, a genuine smile and softly kisses your cheek. You're right, he should know better than to distrust you.

Simeon was grocery shopping for Purgatory Hall when he saw "you". He freezes, like a deer that has seen a car's lights. As an angel, he shouldn't let the anger and jealousy he's feeling get to him so much. Then all those feelings go to his hands, or rather to his fists clenched so tightly it probably left fingernail marks in the palms of his hands. If he had been holding something, a plastic cup or a can, it would have exploded in his hand for sure.

He doesn't feel that “you” are in danger, that “you” were forced to do that. So he doesn't even approach “you”. He can't. He has to get out of there! What he’s feeling are very strong and bad feelings, which he cannot let consume him under any circumstances.

He goes back to Purgatory Hall and packs up the groceries. If someone crosses paths with him before he can go to his room, he'll pretend that everything is fine, but that he's a little tired. Luke, Solomon and even Raphael will let him be. Not because they believe it, but because they can perceive an almost frightening aura coming from him.

Love is like a pendulum, just as it swings to one side that lights up your soul, it can also swing to the side that shatters it with the exact same intensity. How could you do that to him? No! He can't blame you. These are his feelings, he is the one that has to deal with them. But they still connected to you. And who was that demon? He would understand the Brothers, but who was that one? Should he talk to you? He has to calm down first. But yes, he needs to talk to you!

He was about to text you, asking if you could meet him at Purgatory Hall, but you were faster and sent him a message saying: “Hey. I haven’t seen you today. And Luke told me you feel a little blue. If you want to talk, I'm here for you.” Unfortunately, this was worse than if he had sent the message first. You were being your kind self, the one he felt in love with. Reading it while remembering what he say, it's just heartbreaking. But he needs to settle that matter.

“I'm glad. Actually, I would like to talk to you. Could you come to Purgatory Hall today?” You answer with an of course, and you go there. You go to his room for more privacy.

You may never find out, but he trained himself in what to say and how to say it to you. “The truth is... I ended up seeing you yesterday. On the street. With that demon.” he doesn't hide his sadness. And he expected to see an expression of surprise, realizing what he was talking about. But you were just really confused. What demon? What Street? You were at the Demon Lord's Castle the whole time yesterday. You were having tea with Diavolo because he wanted to talk to you about ideas he had for improving the exchange students program.

Because he's an angel, he can tell you're being completely sincere. So, would he have mistaken you for someone else? No, it was clearly you. Or someone impersonating you? He would solve this problem later. Perhaps with the help of Lucifer and Diavolo. But for now, he felt as if his heart had healed. The tightness he felt returned to a comforting warmth. And you can see it in his face.

He explains to you what happened and you tell him you would never do such a thing. Despite the relief, he still had a sad look on his face. You get closer to him, caress his face to bring it closer to you and kiss him on the cheek. He hugs you and touches his forehead to yours. “Can I be a little selfish and ask you to stay with me a little longer?”

Solomon was buying ingredients for his magical experiments when he saw "you". He is shocked and he just wants to separate that demon from "you". He may have given it some thought. Maybe it crossed his mind, even for a few seconds, that maybe he should leave the two of you and talk to you later about it. But he doesn't care. He takes some material from his shopping and casts a spell that sets fire to the pants of the demon that's kissing “you”. More specifically, on his butt.

The demon panics and when “you” see that and then Solomon “you” panic too. And the two run away. Which is another shock for Solomon. He didn't attack you. He wanted to talk to you. But you... ran away. You ran away from him? What... what was he supposed to do now?

You get a message from him late at night. Like VERY late at night: “You know, I really wanted to talk to you. But I didn't know how to do it. If you want to talk, I'm at... that bar I forgot the name of... you know. I am here.” You remember Asmo telling you about Solomon getting drunk in a Devildom bar. It was probably what was happening at that moment as well. You decide to meet with him, mainly to make sure he was okay. Or at least as okay as he could be.

When you arrive, he waves to you. You sit in the chair next to him instead of in front of him. He had a bottle of a drink from the human world in his hand. Half empty. “Hey. Sorry to text you so late, but I really needed to talk to you about this afternoon.” About that afternoon? What happened? “Oh, do you want to forget about that thing? Yeah, I'd really like to forget that too. I tried, as you can see, but I can't.”

But what was he talking about? What did he see? “Listen, don't do this. I just want to work things out. I mean, clarify the matter.” And you tell him you have no idea what he saw that afternoon. You were at the Demon Lord's Castle all afternoon with Barbatos. Learning how to make a tea that Lucifer really liked for the days when he was more stressed. It took most of the afternoon because it was difficult to prepare.

He almost jumps out of his chair. “Wait! Are you serious? Let me just call Barbatos for a minute.” He calls him, who confirms what you just said. “So you weren't out on the street with that demon? Then who was...? Ha... ha ha ha ha ha...” and he bursts with laughter.

You try to ask him what he's talking about, but he says it doesn't matter right now. Since you are right next to him, he hugs you, almost desperately. He's so relieved it wasn't you. He won't tell you anytime soon what he saw. Your curiosity will keep you close to him. And that's exactly what he wants.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Obey Me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me fluf #obey me x reader #obey me Diavolo #obey me Diavolo x Reader #obey me Barbatos #obey me Barbatos x Reader #obey me Simeon #obey me Simeon x Reader #obey me Solomon #obey me Solomon x Reader

[jellitchi]

varigo lovely night animatic

i made this in a sickly haze.... i uploaded her to youtube as well feel free to check it out. under the cut is a Huge Ramble abt sum context / what happens In My Mind... also their Fancy ballroom fits n whatever

yk how theres a ball/fancy party or smth? yeah i needed stupid designs so i cranked these out might return and color them but i basically based varian n hugos design off of these just dressed down...

Anyways.

uhm i might write a Whole fic abt this with Oomf but uhm.

this takes place during the events of vat7k about a year after varian initially left, he returns to corona w his friends to find the library and rapunzel and eugene throw him a surprise birthday party. and in true disney character fashion, something horrible happens on his birthday. the gang gets caught witnessing / overhearing plans to assassinate the princess tonight. or maybe its gonna b a murder mystery party gone awry- havent decided. the group splits into two groups, the detectives and the protectors. yong and nuru are the detectives, theyre looking for evidence they can use to prove this has been planned for a long time. hugo n varian r tasked w making sure rapz n eugene done die sum horrible death as they hang out at the party. did i mention the party is The royal ball. so everyone is in stuffy/fancypants fits.

the whole running gag was gonna b rapunzel and eugene having like fifty near death experiences n its always like, Unknowingly. and hugo and varian r stressed out of their mind.

the reason varian n hugo r on Protector duty is coz theyre like Uhm. we're better at Improvising stuff. We can curve this and try n get the Killer to mess up and leave a trail for nuru n yong to go after.

anyways this animatic takes place a bit after like fifty attempts (cartoon ass flower pot almost crashes on their head, they watch someone spike their drinks and hugo runs over and drinks them both followed by an antidote varian just made, they walk through an archway and just barely miss the guillotine positioned above their head okay you get it just Silly cartoonish methods of assassination)

A Lovely Night takes place after Most of that so theyre very tired, the two get locked onto a balcony and r forced to kinda js Watch rapz n eugene hang out. varian takes a seat n is trying to sleuth out whos tryna kill his sister, he has an imaginary cork board w strings. hugo is kinda like "mann theyre kinda cute tgt. see two ppl locked on a balcony alone under the night sky would consider this romantic, goggles." n then Lovely Night!

uhm and the afterwards i think theres a figure approaching eugene and rapunzel so the two literally make a makeshift rope and throw themselves down the balcony to save them but boom they played into the assassinators plan! they were tired of varian and hugo getting in the way so they were js gonna kill em too. n then this is when rapunzel n eugene step in, n save them yeah and then they tell them everything and all is well and good and the assassins r behind bars...! Segment end....

#varian and the seven kingdoms #vat7k #varigo #varian vat7k #varian tts #hugo vat7k #tangled the series #varian tangled #fanart #lizzysart

[buttdumplin]

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

CW: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

~

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

~

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

~

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 x latine reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #i cannot emphasize the poly of this enough #this is truly some of the most self indulgent shit i've ever written and i've never been happier lmao #honestly this is just precious moments with each of them #i'm definitely going to be writing more 141 x latine reader #prepare to be fucking sick of me #frfr tho this is the first long thing i've written in years and ngl it feels good to be doing it again #also yeah i tend to sprinkle in commas like they're condiments

[moonit3]

INTIMACY

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, mlm, male/amab! reader, teasing, handjob (receiving), dom! yandere, sub! reader, reader gets paid to be touched by the yandere, reader gets bites by the yandere, blood.

➥ yandere! ceo x male! secretary reader.

➥ synopsis: the meeting is canceled last minute, leaving you and leonard alone in the hotel room.

➥ a/n: the first amab! reader writing of the blog! I’m a little to excited with this one, because at the same it was a challenge to myself, it was also quite fun to write it ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ i know that some guys/amab people love yandere context, but there isn’t much context for them, so this is for them! also, this is probably the most smut one shot that i ever wrote it…

a business conference, that what he was invited him for. leonard is going to give speeches to others businessmen all over the wolrd like he always do almost every years to gain even more money. however, he doesn’t see like this, instead, the rich man sees this as an opportunity to get closer to his secretary.

young, clumsy and kind. those are the perfect words to describe you, his personal assistant who gain the position a couple of months ago after leonard fired the previous one for misconduct and it was the best choice he ever did in his life. because of that, he can sees you almost daily and bring you to those businesses travels without anyone asking why.

“it’s seems that tonight meeting got cancelled.” his words called your attention, making you stopping typing in the laptop to look at him. the way your eyes stares at him is adorable, too innocent to your own.

“did something happened, sir?” you asked him. a little worried over the meeting was canceled, you know how hard leonard worked to his presentation. “or they moved the conference to another day?”

“no announcements were made, but probably so.” he replied, getting up from his bed and stepping closer to yours. it was a good idea to share the hotel room with you, so he hadn’t to worry about curious eyes. “we have the entire night for ourselves then…any plans?”

you thought for a couple of seconds before speaking again, “how about we just relax? it’s been a while since i saw you resting, sir.” the worrying in your voice is noticeable. “you’ve been working twice as hard in recent days, so take a break. you deserve.”

as his secretary, you need to take care of him always and since leonard doesn’t know when to stop working, you have to remind to him that he is a human and that he needs to take a break from time to time. not to mention that you never saw him sleeping, only working.

“you should take a bath, sir.” you turn the laptop off, putting it away. “a bath always help me relaxing after a long day of wor.”

“really? then you should join me.” his lips turn into a grin.

your entire body froze freezes with his words. too shocked to speak something, this got to be a joke, a silly one. “i’m sorry? i think you said it wrong, sir….” your mind is begging to this to be a mistake, maybe you heard it wrong.

“didn’t you heard?” by his hands, leonard makes you stand up in front of him and there is no chance you can’t escape from his sharper grasp, not when he is too tall and stronger for the average person. “i said ‘you should join me to a bath’.”

this is getting weird. leonard shouldn’t be flirting with someone like you, a mere secretary who keeps falling in duty for simple reasons as tripping or forgetting important meetings.

“i-i don’t think that appropriate for the two of us, sir…”backing away from this situation sounds the best, but not when leonard’s hands are holding your waist and putting you closer to his body. “wait! y-you aren’t going to do anything weird, right?”

the bubbles in the water is enough to hide your nudity from leonard’s curious eyes and despite sitting in opposite sides of the enormous bathtub, it’s feel so small the distance between you and him.

“see? taking a bath with your body isn’t that hard~” he is teasing you, there is no way he would sit with his legs so widen like this during work hours. your eyes are struggling to not look at his thing. “it would be better if you got closer, [name].”

“no, thanks.” you replied. “i’m perfectly fine on my side.” you still can’t believe you accepted to be in the same bathtub with him for almost one million in any currency of your choice. “you said there is something else that i need to do in order to gain the money and i’m afraid to know what is it.”

leonard smiled, its finally happening. “well, you have to let me touch you…” okay, your boss is the strangest man you’ve know in earth, but who is you to judge? “how about you let me stroke your pretty cock?”

“w-what?!” okay, now you can judge him. “you c-can’t do that! it’s weird and y-you are my boss! it’s morally wrong to do those stuff with your worker!”

he doesn’t let you talk anymore, but he does bring you to closer to him to take a seat in middle of his legs, feeling his large bulge closer to your butt cheek. if he dares to take things further, it won’t fit.

“then, let’s keep it a secret between the two of us…” his hand goes lower to reach the head of your member and grab it around his large hand while the other one holds your waist, not letting you go away. “and if you let me do it, then i will add another million to your paycheck next month for the next five years.”

“really?” the amount of money that would enter your bank account is immense…it will be more than enough to rent for that travel across asia and to continue paying your younger brother’s intuition! “you can continue it, sir.”

you can’t see, but his lips curves into a smile as he continues to touch your cock, teasing the tip as whimpers began to come out of your mouths. the lewd sounds that echo through the tiles of the bathroom, little amounts of precum coming out of you and your body rubbing shading his is driving him crazy.

leonard is taking his time to rubbing your shaft, taking it slowly to see how easily your body reacting to his touch. your back keeps moving back and forth, giving him no option than holding your body closer to his chest…aren’t you an eager one?

“aren you enjoying it, darling?” he rests his face at your shoulder, admiring how much precum is leaking from the tip of your cock and listening to the sweet melody escaping from your lips. “i can go faster if you want, but you have to ask it nicely~”

you cried out in pleasure with a suddenly fast stoke, “ah—“ his grab gets harder, cutting your words for an instant. “p-please…please! i-i need it!”

the way your hips began to move in an attempt to make you come faster, however leonard holds your waist closer to his pelvis. not letting you continue it as the strokes on your cock gets faster and faster, til moans are the only things coming out of your mouth.

“fuck…i can feel that you are close, babe.” your body is reacting so well and seeing the tears from your pretty eyes by a mere cock stoking means that your body will react even more when he do the whole thing. “do you want to come? do you want to come by the hands of your boss?”

leonard’s hand moves from your hips to your neck, moving your head to the side and then biting your collarbone. a scream came out of your lips and blood start coming out of your neck, the crimson hits the water of the bathtub, making it slightly red. despite the scream of pain, but it seems that you enjoy the bite as you came shortly after.

and for the part time tonight, you moan when the cum came out of you cock, dirtying your abdomen and leonard’s hand. it’s feel so much and you don’t know if you can stay awake anymore…

“[name]?” he notices your eyes closing and how your body became heavier by laying against his body, how cute. “…it’s seem that i went to rough.”

your sleeping figure is a great view to leonard. the shirt he put on you after washing the blood and cum away makes you look adorable, his clothes are too big for someone so small like you. he is holding himself from kissing you all over, knowing that you are tired from the earlier events.

he sits next to your sleeping body, finally using his phone after a long day without touching it. leonard saw the unread messages coming from an unknown number, but the profile picture shows that it’s one of the associates that invited him to this business travel.

[unknown number]

-> it’s sad that you couldn’t come, leonard. don’t worry, nothing exciting happened there, but i will send the archives from the meeting.

leonard smiled to his phone one last time before going to sleep, this time, he is sharing the bed with you and holding your hand to assure that you won’t leave so soon.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #yandere headcanons #yandere male x reader #yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere x male reader #yandere x y/n #yandere original character #yandere x male darling #male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x male smut #mlm #yandere mlm #yandere male x male #yandere boy #tw yandere #tw smut #my oc leonard #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings #yandere smut

[whorekneecentral]

Miss Me, Miss Me

Ruben Dias x Stones!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fwb!ruben, jack and reader are besties, alcohol and the consumption of, kyle is always annoying her, teasing, a strip tease according to reader, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, fingering, orgasm denial, the use of 'whore' in a sexual/degrading context, penetrative sex (P in V ), big brother john is not having it.

Word Count: 2,952

Author's Note: this one is written solely for my pookie, that's also why ruben is so early on in this series lmao - all of these things are shit she'd eat up so pooks and everyone else, please enjoy :)

merry smutmas series

--

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess. 

Will they or won't they was the tagline for your relationship - if you could even call it that- with Ruben.

You had recently moved to Manchester to be closer to your older brother and your niece and nephew. You had gone to every home game you could and over the course of the season, you fell into a bit of a pattern with the Portuguese defender.

It was innocent enough at first, you two were friends who occasionally hooked up to relieve whatever stress you were having but over the years, it turned into more. Feelings got involved and it got messy so because of that, and for your brother's sake - despite him not knowing, you pulled away from Ruben.

It was never your intention to make things messy.

You hadn't seen Ruben face to face in weeks, if not months. You had still gone to games but you simply went for your brother and then left afterwards, not hanging around too long.

Ruben had a hold over you; you knew if you hung around him too long, you'd just end up in his bed again. That was the last thing you wanted.

Today was unavoidable though.

John was hosting his annual Christmas party at his place; old friends, a few of the boys from his time at Barnsley as well as his teammates and their families from Man City filled his house.

You were somehow, always on kid duty. You were in the room with a bunch of kids; Kevin's, John's, Phil's, Ederson's and a few others that you had no idea who they belonged to.

"Settle down," you tell them, trying to get them off the sugar rush to watch a movie. You tried to rock your nephew in one arm while you switched on the tv, the kids shouting 400 different movie titles all at once.

You huffed and your nephew began to cry just as you tried to ask which one they really wanted to watch but someone opened the door. Jack smiles at you, taking the remote from you when he sees how flustered you are.

He worked a miracle, getting them to quiet down enough for you to calm the baby and to be able to put on a movie for them. You sighed, sitting on the bean bag with the baby as the kids watched Finding Nemo.

Jack sits next to you, rubbing the baby's hand. "I heard the noise, figured I'd come check before they killed you," he whispered, making you chuckle.

"You're a lifesaver, Jack, really. You're good with them too, you and Sasha ever think of.."

"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, at least not yet."

You nod, smiling. "You'd be wonderful parents.. but you should go join the party, I'm okay in here."

"You're sure?" He gets up and you nod. "Go on, I'll come out in a bit." Jack smiles, nodding before he walks out and closes the door behind him.

It was about an hour later that Finding Nemo ended and the kids went looking for their parents. Those with kids ended up heading out, saying their goodnights before the party actually picks up.

You make your way into the kitchen to find Jack looking for something. "Missing something?" You asked, picking up a glass.

"Your brother said he had shot glasses somewhere?"

"Check the bottom cabinet, it should be in there. What are we drinking?" You asked, setting your empty glass back down.

"Whatever will get us drunk fast." He laughs and you smile, "you're just like me," you nudged his shoulder, reaching for the bottle of tequila on the counter.

Jack lines the empty shot glasses on the tray you found, letting you fill them up. The man picks one up before handing another one to you. "To.. the holidays!" He shrugs, tapping his glass to yours before you two down the shots, and two more rounds after that.

You send him on his way, the man dancing his way over to his girlfriend. You on the other hand, picked up the tray and made the rounds, offering shots to all of those who wanted them. Eventually, you find your way to the living room, the music playing in the background as some people danced and the others chatted.

"Pebbles!" Kyle shouts, his hand in the air to call you over. You roll your eyes, walking over to the group of men by the couch. "How many times have I told you not to call me that, walks?" You laughed.

Kyle puts an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're pebbles cause Johnny is Stones and you're the little one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Very original, Kyle. Anyone want a shot?" You offered, holding the tray out.

John takes one, passing another one to Ruben who you've yet to look at. Kyle grabs one for himself and you go to walk away but your brother grabs your arm, bringing you back. John's arm is over your shoulder now, pulling you into his side.

"Have one with us! You're grown up now, aren't you?" He teased, nudging you to take a shot with them. You and John were only a few years apart; he was 29 and you were 24.

You nod, picking up a shot glass. "Cheers!" Kyle shouts over the music, the 4 of you tapping your glasses together before downing the contents.

Some of the tequila ended up on your fingers during the toast, your finger instinctively ended up between your lips and you don't miss the feeling of Ruben's eyes on you. Looking up, your eyes meet his and you move your hand.

"Can I go now?" You asked your brother, and he nodded before kissing your temple. "You're free to go. Go eat something before you feel sick though."

"Should take your own advice, Stones." You tell him and he tosses you a glare. "Whatever, pebbles."

Kyle and John laugh at the use of the nickname and you flip them both off, laughing as you walk away.

The night turned out to be good, you ended up hanging out with Jack and Sasha for a bit before Kyle pulled you to dance with him. He was telling John he knows how to waltz, he just needed a good partner. You were confused as to what made you qualify as a good partner but you went along with it.

At this point, everyone had left and whoever was left, was drunk as fuck and on the verge of passing out.

You slowly make your way upstairs, you have just put away the leftovers and locked the front door for the night. You walked into your room for the night, unzipping your dress as you bent over to pull some pjs out of your bag.

The knob turns and then the door unlocked, someone steps in. "Hello, what the fuck? I'm changing-" you freeze when you turn around to see who it is.

Ruben stood by the door. "It's just me."

"Okay and?" You look at him, confused as to why he's in your room. "Just because it's you, doesn't mean that gives you a right to be in here."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love." He smiles at you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when he says that.

"Fuck off, will you?" You turn away from the man, your back to him as you went to get changed for bed.

Ruben doesn't take no for an answer; in life and on the pitch. He walks over to you, "don't be like that, y/n. You know I miss you," his hand rests on your hip, pulling you to him.

It was so easy for him - your mind is screaming no but your body's betraying you, giving into him before you could stop yourself.

"You don't miss me, Ruben. Shut up." You whispered, the man lowered his lips to your neck. A trail of kisses from the base of your neck up to your jaw, you're certain there's red marks all over your neck from his beard scratching on you.

Your hand instinctively reaches for his face, your palm's warm against his skin; there your body goes, betraying you again.

"I miss you, I do," he whispers against your skin, his hand sliding between the two of you, from your hip to your back. The fact that your dress was unzipped gave him free rein, his fingers running along your spine, finally resting on the curve of your spine.

"Rubes-" you breathe, feeling him suck on the sensitive spot on your neck. "We can't."

He nods, "we can."

"John could walk in."

The thought made Ruben chuckle. Yes, it'd be a mess, it would get both of you in a lot of trouble but the fact that you, at your grown age, were scared of your older brother catching you with his friend, was funny to him.

"John's passed out drunk on the couch, sweetheart. No one's coming, it's just me and you."

You turn to face the man, Ruben's chest to yours; the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the black fabric tight on his arms and the sleeve were rolled up to his elbows. Was he always such a slut or did he only recently become one?

He's already pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and you don't stop him, letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles.

Ruben's hands reach for your face, cupping your jaw. "C'mon baby, I miss you." He whispers into the quiet room, his lips ghosting over yours.

Hands wrapping around his wrists, "I miss you too." You admit, giving into him. You pull Ruben into you, kissing him.

It doesn't take long, the two of you stumbling back to the bed. Ruben ends up on top of you, your legs wrapped around him as he moves you to lay properly. He pulls away from your kiss and your wandering hands, earning him a pout.

"Why'd you stop?" You groaned, Ruben smiles at you whining as he stands, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt before taking it off.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the man. "Mhm, all for me?" You raised your eyebrows, making him laugh.

"Everything's for you, baby. It always is." He tells you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

The words and his actions made your head spin, you were constantly swooning over the man and today was no exception.

Ruben's lips were soft, the faintest of kisses trailed up from your calf to your thigh and he let your leg hang over his shoulder as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Ruben drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 

"Please," you mumble, looking down at the man. Ruben smiles, "not in the mood for teasing, sweetheart?"

"Fuck you Ruben," you groaned, dropping back into the mattress when he pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy but his hand reaches up, pushing two fingers in your mouth. He didn’t have to tell you, your tongue laps over his fingers. 

“Taught you well,” he smiles, pulling his fingers away from your mouth. 

He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Rube, please.” Your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Ruben fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire. Everything about him made you want him, you couldn't explain the attraction.

It just made sense to you.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

Ruben knew you like the back of his hand, even with the time apart. Something didn't change and the way your hips buck, it's your way of saying you want more, who was Ruben not to give into you?

His fingers curl upwards once again and he glances up to see your head tossed back into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 

Ruben pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 

"What the fuck?" You groaned, an arm over your face. If you looked at Ruben right now, you might kill him.

The clink of his belt gets your attention - maybe you'd finally get what you wanted.

Ruben scoots you back, getting on the bed, on top of you. He leans down, his lips over yours and you reach up, a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you can taste yourself on his lips. He lifts your leg, resting on your hip before he lines himself up with you.

The way the tip of his cock rubbed against you and the fact that you were already on the edge from before was enough to make you beg.

"Please, Ruben."

"Please what?" He looks down at you, smiling sweetly.

Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. "Ruben," you whined, lifting your hips towards him. "Please, fuck- god just fuck me already."

Ruben smiles, "those words really shouldn't be in the same sentence, you know." He tells you, pushing into you. You moan, ignoring his words at the moment.

Your hand wraps around his bicep, your manicured nails digging into his skin. He didn't mind the pain, especially if it was your doing.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, Ruben's thrusts were slow and deep- you can feel him everywhere, his hands, his lips, his touch. Everything about Ruben was consuming; he knew that and he loved it.

In some sick way, he loved watching you fall in love with him all over again, seeing the effect he had on you.

Ruben pulls your legs back up to his hip. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder.

How you wished you could scream his name right now.

His hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips. Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Ruben leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you have to be quiet, you don't want everyone to know what a whore you are, do you?”

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. He holds you, managing to flip you two over so that you're on top and his cock is still buried in you.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure.

“Ruben, god-” you mumble, your hand tangled in his dark hair as you bounced up and down.

"Not quite," he whispers, pulling you down to kiss along your neck. Ruben's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back. "Mhm I love you." He whispers into your shoulder.

You huff, "shut up, don't ruin this for me." Ruben laughs, "whatever you say, baby. I do."

"I'm so thirsty," you get off of him, yawning.

Ruben looks over at you, "you want another round?" You roll your eyes, "not what I meant, you freak."

You get up, pulling on his shirt and a pair of shorts. Ruben lays in bed, watching as you buttoned it up. "Don't look at me like that." You tell him and he laughs, "like what, love?"

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I just did," he smiles. You roll your eyes again, something you did often in his presence. "I'm going to get water," you tell him before heading down the stairs.

When your brother hears the creaking on the stairs, he sits up, rubbing his eyes before looking over in your direction. "Y/n?"

"Johnny?" You freeze, looking at him.

"Whose shirt is that?" He asks and you look down at the black button up. "Uh, mine."

John nods, dropping down onto the couch once again. You grab the bottle of water, walking back into the living room to toss the blanket over your brother. You lean down, kissing his head before turning to head back towards the stairs.

He reaches out from under the blanket, grabbing your hand to stop you. "You better get Ruben out of my house before I get up, or I'll kill him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you tell him and your brother lets go of your hand, a sly smile on his face. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you two should shut up next time, or don't do it in my house? Perhaps don't wear a shirt that reeks of his cologne."

"Shut up, go back to sleep," you push him back into the couch before walking away.

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

#ruben dias #ruben dias smut #ruben dias x reader #john stones x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut #merry smutmas xoxo

[sufferingsokkatash]

THAT famous zukka hug in the atla north and south comic : an essay you did not need, by me.

i was thinking about how, in writing, there should be no accidents or coincidences in how and why something is described, or the detail the writer chooses to use. for example, zuko tapping his hand on his desk would be used to show that he is impatient or anxious about something.

so THEN i decided to apply this to the zukka hug, because why not be delulu about these things idk.

first of all, here are the zukka hug pages for context:

disclaimer: i don’t really know how the fandom feels about the comics. personally i like them, so i will proceed with that bias in mind. also please take this with the humour that is intended, it’s more fun that way.

i go down a sabre tooth moose lion hole below the cut.

this whole scene to me is largely what we all love about atla - humour and good characterisation combined with serious subject matter. king kuei and bosco are the comic relief and oblivious party in the face of quite a complicated issue, as zuko himself acknowledges. this humour then extends to kuei offering zuko the chance to join in on his hug with bosco, which zuko politely refuses. obviously, there is the clear issue of zuko being afraid of being eaten by a bear, but we’ll pretend that ernest hemingway is grading our papers here, okay.

it is a very deliberate writing choice and contrast to have zuko refuse hugs from one person/animal and then immediately and happily accept one from sokka. (see also: sokka running excitedly with a big grin on his face at the bottom of page 17 to greet them, naming zuko first, but remembering that he is a good ambassador to the swt and using their proper titles despite his excitement. more silliness mixed with seriousness. see also, also: HE RAAAAAN!) zuko may be touch averse and not a huggy person, but screw that when it’s sokka who’s offering the hug.

remember there are no accidents in good writing. kuei happily says: hello friends! to which, in both that panel and the next, he is clearly ignored. sokka and zuko are so absorbed in hugging each other that sokka neglects his duties in welcoming them both properly. zuko : 2 swt ambassador role: 0. also ignored is the fact that kuei brought his bear, which would normally be subject to some kind of smartass comment from our boomerang boi, even if he knows he’s obsessed with his pet from the ba sing se episodes.

this could be an actual mistake, but sokka ran towards zuko, who was standing in front of kuei. but in the hug panel, sokka is between them. that means kuei walked all the way around them trying to get their attention, and it still didn’t work. sokka, nor zuko, say a further word to kuei. like exactly how much tunnel vision is there in this, my goddddd.

bosco is protecting kuei and sokka is protecting zuko. could be why they mirrored them and their positions in the hug panel, so not a mistake. a swt person says: protecting foreigners, sokka?! but that is exactly what he does by ignoring the protesters and telling zuko not to worry about them. despite wanting to do his duty to everyone sokka puts zuko first, basically, and doesn’t care about what they all think of him. that’s kind of huge for sokka.

yes, hakoda is injured at this time and yes he’s proud of sokka, but surely as chief he would have gone to meet the earth king and firelord? why did the writers go to so much effort making sure that sokka was there to meet zuko and have them hugging take up a third of an entire page when printing and space in the comics is such a consideration? it is clearly important, y’all.

their faces when they see each other. sokka can’t stop grinning and zuko closes his eyes in relief he’s so happy. enough said.

sokka says: thanks so much for coming! like he doesn’t already know zuko would travel the world just to make him happy or help in what’s important to him. have you forgotten boiling rock, sokka? because that dude you’re wrapped around, acting like he’s been starved of you, sure hasn’t.

this comic is all about nations coming together and traditions being upheld and shared. in other words, marry him sokka. it is in your diplomatic interests to do so.

in utterly insane conclusion:

i am always surprised at how much they made the effort in the writing for this one scene. i don’t see the comics as something that tease ships, they aren’t natla. what i do see is two guys who clearly care about each other, almost to the detriment of their roles and responsibilities, and their relationship was worth the effort taken in the writing and artwork to show that. it is super heckin sweet. does this mean i think zukka is canon or could be? no. maybe did i have fun pretending and overanalyzing every detail? yes.

ps in all seriousness, the answer is that this is about my fav boy and how far he has come in his character growth journey - exhibit a from ‘the avatar returns’ episode:

the end, i am getting blocked and going to jail but it’s okay because zukka is my bosco hug.

#zukka #unhinged ramblings #tash goes feral on nonexistent zukka lore #PLEASE YOUR HONOR #i love sokka so much i want to rip things up when i look at him

[rainybubbles]

How COD men say the first "I love you"

Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Rudy, Keegan

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

-

for more context (you don't need it to read) : here how you met them

P R I C E

-He confessed with Gaz covered by whipped cream.

-Let me explain.

-After your first meeting based on a pregnant Shrek cake to his base and a misunderstanding, John became a regular of your bakery.

-So obviously for confessing his love, he thought of baking a cake.

-During the afternoon on the base, he tried to bake.

-Yes, he could have bought a cake with "I love you” on it. But John liked doing this on his own when it came to gifts.

-He liked the old-fashioned way of doing gifts himself.

-However, as the dough turned an unexpected purple hue, he wisely sought the expertise of Soap, a proficient pastry enthusiast.

-"Cap...your dough is..." Soap hesitated, unsure of how honest he could be.

-"Horrible, you can say it, son," John acknowledged.

-"I just wonder how you managed to make it turn purple?"

-"I used beetroot."

-"For a cake?"

-"Sugar is derived from beetroot."

-"Yeah, but in a Paris-Brest, you don't have beetroot."

-"...how can I fix this?"

-"Well, call Gaz. By three, we could finish the pastry in time," Soap suggested with a knowing smile.

-The collaborative baking commenced, yet Soap overlooked a crucial detail—Gaz sucked as much as Price when it came to bake.

- Entrusted with the delicate task of preparing the crème au beurre, Gaz inadvertently neglected to secure the mixer's lid.

-Chaos ensued as the cream erupted, spilling on the surroundings.

-Soap tried to stop it, but he slipped on the floor.

-Gaz couldn't see because of the cream, and John was looking at them reconsidering his life's chouce.

-Obviously, you decided to come back home at this moment.

-Yo were greeted by the sight of Gaz adorned in whipped cream, Johnny sprawled on the flour-strewn floor, and John enveloped in a cloud of flour.

-"I...is this a kinky food party, or did I miss something? Because usually, people are naked when they use whipped cream," you quipped.

-"I can explain, love," John offered.

-"Okay, what happened?"

-"I wanted to bake for you."

-"You know I don't need cakes or pastries; that's my job. If I crave a sweet tooth, I have plenty of cakes, honey."

-"I know, but this one was special. It was supposed to be a heart-shaped Paris-Brest."

-"Paris-Brest aren't heart-shaped."

-"Not when they're not employed for confessions."

-A moment of realization dawned upon you.

-"Fuck, you...you wanted to say 'I love you.'"

-"Yeah, but it's clear I messed up."

-"No, no. I mean, sure, Gaz covered in whipped cream, Johnny on the flour, and walls adorned with flour was not what I pictured, but it's perfect."

-"Good because I don't plan to cover Garrick in whipped cream every time I want to say it."

-A shared chuckle ensued as you joined Gaz and Soap in the aftermath, each contributing to the cleanup while John beamed with contentment.

G A Z :

-He confessed with a vocal.

-After your meeting and your teasing when you found out Gaz listened to your spicy ASMR as a streamer, you noticed him.

-He was a regular, one of the fans who always leave a comment under each post.

-He became more than just a familiar username.

-Your bond deepened as you sought his counsel on scenarios for your streams and videos, a virtual confidant in the ever-expanding realm of online content creation.

-As time unfolded, your relationship transcended the digital realm.

-The spark between you two ignited, an intangible force that fueled your creative musings.

-Swiftly, meetings materialized whenever Gaz found a fleeting moment of respite from his duties.

-When he was on long deployments, you sent him exclusivity audios so he could be distracted from the horror he did or saw, offering a temporary escape from the grim realities he faced.

-Your voice became a comforting melody, a beacon in the darkness, ensuring that Gaz could find solace even amid the harrowing experiences he encountered. 

- In fact you could record yourself spelling a list of grocery and he would find it awesome

-Yet, despite the kisses shared and the intimate moments experienced, Gaz had yet to formally ask you out or declare those three potent words: "I love you."

-One night, as a gentle breeze whispered through the window, he turned to his friend Soap for advice, a hint of embarrassment lingering in his tone.

-"Hey, mate, can I ask for advice?" he queried, his eyes seeking guidance from Soap.

-"Sure," Soap responded, welcoming the opportunity to lend an ear.

-"How... would you confess to someone you've been flirting with for months?" Gaz inquired, his apprehension palpable.

-"Tell them," Soap replied matter-of-factly.

-"No shit, I wanted something special. They're... they're awesome, and I really want to make the thing memorable, you know?"

-Soap smirked, teasing Gaz.

-A playful shoulder bump ensued as Gaz protested, "Shut up, mate. I just... I feel like they're the right person, you know? I mean, they saw me during my lowest moments, and for people like us, it's hard sometimes to find those who can handle a lover with PTSD."

-"Yeah, I feel that," Soap acknowledged. "Well, maybe use your first meeting or something they love. If they're into soccer, bring them to a big match and confess during it."

-"But, you know, during a match, everyone screams? It's kinda dumb."

-Soap paused.

-Gaz looked at him.

-"Well, it sounded like a good idea at that time."

-Gaz's eyes widened. "Wait, you did that?"

-"Listen, it seemed like a good idea."

-"Oh my gosh, what happened?"

-"She didn't understand what I said and answered, 'You're such a good friend.'"

-"Damn."

-"But it doesn't mean it'll be the same for you."

-"I know. I just think about things they love. I... can't confess by ASMR, honestly. It'll be cringe."

-"Maybe send an audio? No need for ASMR," Soap suggested.

-"Yeah," Gaz agreed.

-As Gaz found himself in his room, armed with his phone and ready to send a heartfelt audio message, he hesitated.

-The recorded voice sounded foreign and awkward to him, far from the eloquence he envisioned.

-Discouraged, he abandoned the attempt.

- Upon his return from deployment, sensing your unusual behavior, he confronted you about it.

-"You... sent me a vocal, but it only said 'Fuck you,' so I didn't know if I did something or not," you confessed, puzzled by the unexpected message.

-Gaz paused, the realization dawning upon him. He had forgotten to delete a frustrated attempt at confessing that slipped through the cracks.

-"No, it was not against you. I... I tried to do something, but I messed up. So I was mad at myself, and at the same time, I was recording a vocal for you," he admitted, vulnerability coloring his words.

-"Can I ask what was this thing?" you inquired, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

-"I... gear. I couldn't take off my gear," he lied, attempting to divert the conversation.

-"You're a bad liar," you chuckled.

-"Okay, I wanted to confess to you. And I tried to record something like you do, but it sounded horrible."

-"You know you could have texted?" you suggested with a playful smile.

-"Yes, I... I didn't think about it. I was so focused on voices and the perfect confession."

-"I reciprocate, if you ever wonder," you reassured him.

-A smile broke across Gaz's face as he squeezed your hands, grateful for the understanding that transcended words.

S O A P :

-He confessed by drawings.

-After drawing you like Gollum because you flustered him, Soap, determined to prove his artistic prowess, pursued every opportunity to capture your essence on paper.

- Despite attending each modeling session and receiving your compliments, he couldn't quite capture the nuances—those wrinkles when you smiled, the sparkle when you ate, the delicate mole that graced your visage.

-Unyielding, he embarked on a mission of his own, drawing you ceaselessly between military duties, on the pages of his diary, and during leaves.

-Training, a familiar concept to a soldier, became his artistic discipline.

-You willingly played muse.

-The drawing sessions evolving into intimate conversations, forging a connection that extended beyond artistry.

-As your bond deepened, so did Soap's frustration.

- The elusive perfection he sought in his drawings continued to elude him, and he longed to express his feelings through his sketches.

- One day, returning to your darkened apartment, you discovered a trail of candles illuminating your path.

- Recognizing Soap's expertise with fire and explosives, you followed the flickering lights until the room burst into brightness.

-There, on the wall, an intricately arranged collection of sketches painted a portrait of your shared moments—coffee spills, date nights, and more.

-Overwhelmed by the domestic warmth of the scene, you couldn't help but murmur, "Shit, it's so cute."

-"I hope so, because I love you, baby. I want these sketches to continue, to wake up to you every morning, to draw you, to see you, to kiss you," Johnny confessed, closing the distance between you.

-A tender embrace and a heartfelt kiss followed. "I love you too."

-"Good, because it would have been hard if you said you hate me after I spent five hours gluing these sketches," Soap admitted, a playful smile gracing his face.

-Laughter filled the room, echoing the joy of two hearts entwined in love.

G H O S T :

-He confessed with a monkey wrench.

-You were tired.

-The life of a mechanic on the base demanded a toll, and today, that toll felt almost unbearable.

- Fatigue etched lines on your face as you toiled among the clattering tools, your hands weaving intricate dances of repair.

- The camaraderie with your coworkers, usually a source of solace, had soured into an unbearable weight on your shoulders.

-Amidst the clinks and clanks, a sudden snap echoed through the air, drawing attention like an unwelcome spotlight.

-Your favorite monkey wrench, a faithful companion in countless repairs, lay shattered in your hands.

-A surge of frustration coursed through you, and against all reason, tears welled in your eyes.

- It was an odd vulnerability, shedding tears over a broken tool, but the accumulation of stress had reached a breaking point.

-Then, there he was—Simon, the enigmatic connection born from his bad driving skills and your repairing of his vehicles.

- Your eyes met, and the vulnerability you felt intensified.

-"Don't pity me, please," you whispered, a plea tinged with embarrassment.

-"I don't pity you, love," Simon responded, his voice a balm to your wounded spirit.

- He knelt beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of the workshop.

-"I... I must look ridiculous?" you stammered, seeking reassurance.

-"No, you look quite stunning crying on the dirty floor with a broken monkey wrench," he teased, a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

- Your tears mingled with laughter, a cathartic release in the midst of chaos.

-"Yeah?" you asked, a hint of uncertainty lingering.

-"Yeah," he affirmed, his gaze sincere.

 -"Then Soap is the most stunning with his mohawk full of mud."

-"Hm, he can't beat you with your grease on the cheek," Simon remarked, using his gloved hand to wipe away a smudge.

-A quiet settled between you, broken only by the sound of tools and distant chatter.

-Simon extended his hands, a silent offer of support, and you accepted, rising from the dirt-strewn floor.

-"Thanks for... being here," you said, gratitude coloring your words.

-"I'm not always here, love," Simon admitted, a touch of vulnerability in his gaze.

-"But you're here when it counts, Simon. That's all that matters to me," you confessed, and with those words, you retreated to the solitude of your barracks.

-As you left, Simon watched you, and in that moment, an unfamiliar warmth enveloped him.

- It was the realization that he was enough—enough to be there for you, enough to be loved.

-The following day, a surprise awaited you in the form of a brand-new monkey wrench.

-A note accompanied it, bearing Simon's distinctive scrawl: "I hope to buy you more in the future."

- A subtle promise, a declaration beyond words.

- You smiled, for you understood—it was more than a tool.

-It was the promise of a connection that transcended the clangor of the workshop, a sentiment that spoke of a desire for something deeper. And for you, that was more than enough.

K E E G A N :

-He confessed with Happy Meals.

-After all, it was how you met. Keegan ordered 20 happy meals, and you were a worker for McDonalds.

-( Even though you began to write an essay about how happy meals and military men seem to be an issue)

- Keegan and you became close.

-Since you saw him each night during his leave after your shift.

-At first, it was because some teenagers were here, threatening the employees after their shift, so Keegan proposed his help.

-And after that, driving you back home became a routine when he was on leave.

-And when one night you decided to ask him to drop you somewhere else, and it ended up being a restaurant, he realized you were asking a date subtly.

-Slowly, it became flirtatious.

-Even though you still didn't know how he could flirt when you were covered in grease-smelling potatoes.

-But Keegan had rizz even at 1 AM.

-He could say the more cheesy lines while you're covered in cheddar and coke.

-That's why he wanted to confess in a cool way, the same way, his flirt could make you smile through the worst shift.

-At first, he thought of a Happy meal where the toy could be a letter saying "I love you" with a selfie of you two.

-But he wanted something fun, as fun as when Ghost ordered 40 Happy Meals just to have all the skeleton toys.

-So during one of his missions, he used his phone and ordered food for your flat.

-Surprised, you opened the door to the delivery guy, saying you hadn't ordered anything. But you noticed it had your name on it.

-You sighed and took the bags.

-The 4 bags.

-Which surprised you because, hell, you won't eat all of that.

-And then you opened the bag to see happy meals.

-20 happy meals. Like Keegan used to order.

-You chuckled.

-It was a good prank.

-You sent him a text.

-"Okay, good one, I'll take revenge, I swear"

-But then you notice the Happy Meal is empty.

-Except for one who had a little toy.

-A heart toy.

-You squeezed it like it said on it

-And the little toy spoke with a horrible voice. "I love you".

-The cheesy smile you had when you realized it.

-"fuck, you got rizz even miles away, uh ?"you texted.

- "of course" he answered.

-"well, Mr Rizz, I can't send you Happy Meals, but I love you too."

-"thanks, love"

R U D Y :

-He confessed with books. 

-After meeting Rudy in the library and realizing he was one of the few readers following your books. You ended up meeting with him when he was on leave so he could be your beta reader.

-He was a good help, he was not always saying "good", he had good remarks and ideas.

-He was the one bringing coffee during your late writing sessions.

-Even when duty called him away on missions, he sent texts 

-Texts traversed the ether, connecting your worlds despite the miles that separated you.

-In response, handwritten letters, carefully penned with the knowledge of his penchant for tangible memories, sailed back to him, becoming anchors of shared moments in his turbulent sea of duty.

-Thanks to his comments and ratings on sites, you slowly became more famous as an author, and you now live by it.

-Yet one day when you were writing, you were searching for one of the books you wanted to inspire your fight scene for, but...

-"I didn't order my library like that," you whispered.

-Your books, usually standing sentinel in perfect alignment, bore witness to an intrusion—an inexplicable disorder. 

-But you had this habit of putting in order books in a certain way. But it seemed someone messed it up.

-And it would be so strange for a stalker to just break into someone's house in order to...mess up their library ?

-What kind of shitty villain could do that ?

-You sighed.

 -The only one who could come in  your flat is Rudy, and it couldn't be Rudy since the guy was kind of obsessive with it too.

-Not a soldier for nothing, after all, being clean is part of it. 

-His library was impressive, he even gave advice to his local library about archives.

-So slowly, you pulled out one book, in order to put it back where it was supposed to be.

-You sighed, knowing it would take your night to do all the books.

-Until you noticed it.

-The letters.

-The first letters of each title were aligned.

-You stepped back, and you rode it.

-"I love you"

-You bite your lips and smiled.

-'Fucking idiot", you whispered, and you sent him a selfie with you and the books aligned.

-"Me too." you had texted.

-"I had thought you would never find it."

-"What do you mean ?"

-"It's been six months, it's like that."

-"What, no"

-"si."

-"Fuck, you-"

-"I thought you didn't want to address it before I realized you just haven't seen it."

-"I'm so sorry; fuck, you must have been stressed."

-"Not really"

-False. He cried to Alejandro one month after he did it, and you didn't answer. But you would never know that.

-"Well, now you know it's reciprocated."

-"Thanks, love"

-"Have a good night, honey".

He smiled. It'll definitely be a good night, now he knows you said I love you.

If you want more : my COD masterlist

And my whole masterlist

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #ghost simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #rudy x reader #rudy parra x reader #keegan russ x reader

[telvess]

RoR: Morning with them (Hermes, Hades, Qin) 🔞

I've finally defeated my writer's block, at least a bit. And I swear I wanted to write something fluffy. Then why - for the Helheim sake - I ended up writing NSFW context again…?

Hermes

You were wakened by a morning sunlight. You opened your eyes and immediately regretted it, covering your head with the pillow to find relief in the partial darkness. The empty space next to you - where your hand expected to find Hermes - alarmed you, so you forced yourself to peek again. The feeling of disappointment woke you up completely. — Why are you leaving so early? — you mumbled, seeing him getting ready in front of the mirror. He was putting on a shirt, so for the last seconds you could see his naked back, which you had kissed many times last night. — Duty calls. — You’re god, you know? — you jumped out of the bed and hugged him from behind — You have the right to take the day off! Even as you interfered, Hermes buttoned his dress shirt. — I’m afraid the gods don’t have that privilege. — Really? — you sighed into his back — Even we, humans, figured that out! You saw his reflection in the mirror smiling at you. After the shirt, the time had come for a tie. — Let me — you offered help. Without a word, Hermes handed you the tie, and as you placed it around his neck, you felt his eyes on you. Since you were standing naked in front of him, your cheeks suddenly felt warm, and the situation didn't get any better as you remembered what happened last night. — Is everything okay? — Yes — you replied, however you didn’t have enough courage to look up. Otherwise, you would have notice Hermes’ mischievous expression, because - as always - he knew exactly what was going on in your mind. As you were tying a tie, Hermes’ hands appeared on your waist. He was already wearing white gloves and was now caressing your skin with the soft fabric. As his touch was leaving burning trace on your bare skin, your sensitive body slowly began to wake up. Hermes moved his hands to your back, where he raised them along your spine to reach your shoulders, neck and finally your jawline. You bit your lower lip and without second thought, you let your hands slide over Hermes’ collar to touch his neck with trembling fingers. — Patient, silly goose — his calm voice brought you back to reality — Tonight you gonna untie that tie as well. Your eyes met his. Hermes seemed amused by your confusion, but beside that you didn’t notice any sign of lying. — Will you leave that early the next morning too? — you asked. Then, to your surprise, Hermes just leaned towards you. Your lips moved instinctively as he approached closer to yours, meeting in a deep, promising kiss. Every time Hermes and you shared an intimacy moment, you slowly lost yourself in his firm hug and skilled tongue, but over time you started to realize that he was the one who was overcome with passion much more than one would expect. As if his perfect, unshakable image had loosened slightly, as if Hermes had finally forgotten himself in the endless years of tasks assigned by Zeus. Then again, something - perhaps his divine control or just aversion to being late - forced him to stop. Hermes was the first to regain absolute control over himself. The only things that gave him away was his rapid breathing and the messy hair you gave him, which was also taken care of very quickly. — Yes — he answered, calmly. It took you a moment to remember what you had asked him, and once you did, a groan of disappointed escaped your lips — However, tomorrow we will wake up much earlier. You smiled at the hidden promise in his words. Hermes checked himself in the mirror one last time before touching your jaw again and forcing you to look into his eyes. — That’s a good knot. Thank you.

Hades

You were lying partially on Hades’ chest and were leaving a trails of small kisses on his exposed skin. Some time ago, a faint light started to seep through the curtains, but you were already awake. Watching Hades sleep was something you never expected to do and you really hoped now that it wasn't a dream. As you left another kiss, you saw how Hades’ head moved slightly. — Oh? — he looked so adorable: sleepy eyes, messy hair and a very lazy smile. You felt so lucky that you had witnessed this side of the king of the Underworld. — Good morning — you smiled back. — Morning, my queen — Hades ran his fingers through his hair, making them even more dishevelled. — Did you sleep well? — you asked, trying really hard to hide your laugh. — Yes, but it doesn't compare to the awakening. Hearing this made you want to kiss him again, but now your fingers also explored his skin, following a track of his sculpted muscles. — Well… I didn’t mean to wake you up… — you kissed him again — It’s just… — and again, — … you teased me. — Oh, really? — Hades grabbed you with his large arms and rolled over with you, so that you were now underneath him. You laughed at the sudden change. For a moment he just looked at you without any particular expression, and then he leaned towards your neck, where he placed a very gentle kiss. His warm breath on your skin, especially on that sensitive spot he found out about last night, made you moan. Hades lifted his head just for a moment to show you his triumphant smile before returning to leave more kisses just below your ear. — You are… aah-h… so… You couldn’t control your body anymore, but was that a reason to be angry? Because you felt so good right now as Hades continued his journey down your chest to your breasts. You ignored weak resistance of your pride and closed your eyes, enjoying the moment. Hades’ lips around your nipples sent shivers your lower parts and as he licked and sucked on them, more moans escaped your lips. You grabbed his hair and arched your back in a fit of passion. — Now, now, who’s the teaser here… — you heard his quiet, deep voice. — Hades… His lips were replaced by his hands now, which slowly massaged your breasts, and Hades' fingers poked your nipples from time to time. — Just look at you — he said slowly — Very naked and very… mine. You couldn’t help but smiled. You opened eyes just to find him watching you. He reached for your head to brushed your hair behind your ear. — I didn’t know you’re such tamer. Hades laughed, his finger was curling your strand of hair. — I didn’t know that either. Looks like you drew it out of me. — Oh, so now it’s my fault? — Well… — he pinched your cheek — What can I say, that’s your charm, dear. You giggled. — Woah, quality save. Hades leaned towards your lips, but stopped an inch before he reached them. — You know, y/n… — he whispered — I'm not a morning person, but you're on your way to changing that. — You seem to have a lot of energy, my king. — And even more ideas on how to use it. Hades wasn’t lying, he had plenty of them.

Qin Shi Huang

You were a light sleeper, so when Qin sat at the edge of the bed, your eyes immediately opened. — Don’t go! — you muttered, and in a sudden burst of desperation, you clutched to Qin’s back and wrapped your arms and legs around his waist like little child. — I’m expected to, my sweet lady — said Qin, but his tone indicated he was open to conviction. — Yesterday you said that you expected your empress to speak loudly about her needs! — you remained — And today I expect you to stay and entertain me! You left a few kisses on his centipede tattoo that ran down his back and smiled in satisfaction as you felt Qin’s body tremble. You pretended to shudder with the cold. — Ugh! I’m so cold! Qin froze for a moment, the sculpted muscles on his back flexed and then before you could blink, he turned around and gently pushed you onto your back. — Cold? — said Qin, outraged — In the presence of the emperor? Unforgivable! Then he lay down close by and he whispered with a smile: — I will handle this matter myself. You giggled as he covered both of you with the duvet, and then pulled you into his chest. He held you tightly in embrace, with his face buried in your hair you felt his warm breath on your neck. — You smell nice — his words made you blush. You started massaging Qin’s muscular arm, feeling his bare skin with your fingers and listening to his slow breathing made your body completely relaxed, to the point where you had to fight with yourself to not fall asleep again. — Qin… — you mumbled. — Yes? — I’m sleepy… — That’s good to hear. You frowned but didn’t open your eyes. — No! I don’t want to sleep again because… because I hate waking up alone! You felt his grip tighten, and then his lips whispered next to your ear: — I’m never too far away. You opened you mouth and closed it almost immediately, feeling ashamed of yourself. — Well… You’re right — you said and sat straight— You have your responsibilities. You should go. — Oh? — you couldn’t help but smile at his disappointed reaction — The duties are where I am! Your attempt of withhold a laugh was mediocre, and soon the huge bedroom you shared was filled with loud laugher from both of you. Qin grabbed your arm and forced you to lie down next to him. — Here I thought I'd rest a little longer… — he sighed. — Oh, so you tried to use me as an excuse then! Qin presented you his false smile that he usually gives to unwanted advisors, and you stuck your tongue out at him in the response, then grabbed his cheek and moved his head towards you, so you could place a kiss on his lips. His hand appeared on your back almost immediately and the other one hid itself in you hair, pulling you closer to his warm body. — It seems you have a new reason to stay — you said once you stopped kissing and looked at the bulge in his pants. — Yes, and it requires an immediate solution. Qin touched your jaw and turned your face towards him. You could drown in his pure, innocence eyes, even now, when he had such dirty thoughts. You giggled, feeling sudden surge of shyness. Qin smacked his lips. — You shouldn’t make emperor wait.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x reader #snv x reader #ror hades #ror hermes #ror qin shi huang #ror hermes x reader #ror hades x reader #ror qin shi huang x reader #snv hades x reader #snv hermes x reader #snv qin shi huang x reader #udj

[semisolidmind]

I’m sorry if this was already asked but is MK in the twice as bad au? Since Peaches is immortal, she would probably find MK first or she finds him while her husbands are looking for her outside the palace. They find her outside playing with a little boy. Wukong didn’t think twice about adopting him, especially when he saw MK lift his staff, and Macaque loves telling him stories.

(it was, but ive been thinking about TAB mk lately so ill talk a lil more about him

so I think the last time i talked about mk in the context of this au, it was in the version where reader is killed while she and the boys are on the journey, and the boys go into a violent depression slump for the next thousand years. in that timeline, wukong finds mk as a toddler and raises him like his son (with macaque standing by for uncle duty). mk becomes an unstoppable force of nature under the monkey bros tutelage; enough so that any of the foes that posed a problem for him in the show are child's play in this au.

reader being present for mk's upbringing is one of the better timelines for him mentally. he gets to have a mom, for one. and instead of having just the brutal philosophy of the monkey warlords taught to him, he's also taught to have empathy and compassion. instead of just killing his enemies, he tries to show them mercy. it's a better outcome for everyone involved, honestly.

there's a few posts of mine that explain this modern iteration and reader's place in it, but let's talk about your scenario.)

reader goes on a morning walk. a rare occurrence, given her husband's love of sleeping in and their usual refusal to let her out of the pillow nest. but, they had an early appointment today, so reader took the opportunity to shirk her queenly duties and go visit some of the scenic mountain locals. whilst on her walk—

she finds a little monkey demon boy. just wandering the jungle, seemingly in awe at everything around him. reader isn't sure what to make of him. she takes notice of his unkempt state.

reader doesn't want to believe any of the monkeys would willingly neglect or abandon one of their children, but the boy is covered in dirt, his fur somewhat matted, and he has no clothes to speak of. perhaps he's just lost? he is very little. maybe his parents just lost track of him...regardless, reader feels the need to take him back to the cave to ask around and see if anyone can identify him.

when she calls out to him, he looks over at her, but doesn't respond. when she approaches him, he just...looks up at her, following her movements when she kneels to be closer to his height. reader asks for his name, and the boy doesn't respond. but he does step closer, his little tail twitching curiously.

reader cautiously reaches out to brush some of the matted dirt from his fur, moving the overgrown mess away from his face. he has amber-gold eyes, not dissimilar to what wukong said his looked like before the furnace. while reader ponders the similarities, the boy suddenly climbs into her arms. she instantly embraces him back, surprised but knowing that baby monkeys like to be held nigh constantly. poor lil guy, she thinks. probably missing his mama. the way his tiny hands grip her robes breaks her heart a little.

reader decides that she'll take care of him for now; he needs a bath, some food, and proper clothes, at least. reader takes off her overcoat and wraps it around the lil guy before hefting him up into her arms; he's pretty heavy for someone so small.

reader turns and heads back to water curtain cave. the little boy settles against her, tiny hands curled against her chest and his head in the crook of her neck. reader holds him close. she reassures him that they'll find his family.

after politely waving away a few embarrassing questions from some well-meaning monkeys along the way (no, he isn't her baby, she didn't leave for an hour or two just to have a baby, please stop saying that—on that note, do you know who his parents are), reader makes her way back to the cave.

she supposes she can see why they'd think that the child in her arms might be related to her; the boys' fur is a similar shade to her hair, though slightly darker (and the likelihood of her children being demons like their fathers is very high, should they ever have any).

as they get further into the cave, and closer to the palace, reader is stopped by a group of servants wondering about the child. reader explains as the monkeys (a small group comprised of aunties) look the child over, mulling over who's baby he could be. maybe this family? no, none of them have that fur color, and the face shape is different. perhaps he's from this village, on the east side of the mountain? no, none of them have had any babies yet this season, and the children they do have are all older than this one. they go back and forth like this for a while.

while reader talks, the boy suddenly perks up. he sits up and his eyes focus on something in the distance. reader turns to glance at what's gotten his attention.

ah, she sees.

her husbands have just finished their meeting, and one of them is now headed this way.

that's the king, she tells the boy. the boy says nothing, and stares at the approaching monarch.

reader understands why. the king is wearing his armor today, the gold plating glinting off refracted light coming from the waterfall. his cape and vestaments flow behind him as he makes his way toward them. he's the very picture of a noble ruler.

riiiiiight up until he notices that reader is carrying a child that looks suspiciously like her. his entire expression morphs into surprise, then gentle curiosity.

the king stops short in front of them. reader can almost see the gears turning in his head. he sees the gold eyes, the fur color...perhaps he's having a similar thought as his many subjects about the child's origins.

wukong steps into reader's space, a hand on her arm. his eyes are searching, a question on his face. where did this child come from? reader explains how she found him, and how she has yet to find any of his family or anybody who recognizes him. wukong assures her that if he has someone looking for him, they'll eventually turn up at the palace.

in the meantime, he may stay here, the king decrees. he can see that reader's gotten attached, and doesn't think separating the child from her would be a good idea. the little boy clings to reader like she really is his blood.

reader takes the child inside, getting him a bath and clean clothes, then takes him to kitchens to get him something to eat. wukong joins them, and attempts to get the boy to speak. reader feels her heart soften just a tad every time she sees her husband interact with the mountains' children.

---

no one ever claims the boy.

so, wukong and reader formally adopt the child, and give him the name xiaotian. he is soon accepted as first prince of flower fruit mountain.

wukong begins to train xiaotian to become a warrior as soon as he sees the boy lift his staff with suspicious ease. once he's old enough, he takes xioatian with him to the dragon palace. wukong won't give up his signature weapon, but he will steal another pillar for his son to weild. he trains the child to be as much of a threat as he is. despite his rigorous training regime, wukong is a very caring and playful father.

macaque becomes another guiding figure, and finds that the child loves to listen to stories. every night before xioatian settles next to reader's side to sleep, the darker-furred demon regales him with tales of his and wukong's exploits. reader chimes in occasionally, calling him out whenever he embellishes.

reader remains a comforting figure for xiaotian. he goes to her when he feels lost or upset, knowing that she could give him a gentler perspective on his problems. she's his rock whenever he's unsure. he knows that if he gets caught up in the politics of demon-dom, she'll be there to be a calming presence. he's very cuddly with her when he's small, and goes to her for hugs once he's bigger. he's very glad to have her around to help him.

xiaotian becomes a very cautious person as he grows, the ideals of his adopted sires pushing him to believe that most immortals, demons, and mortals are not to be trusted. however, reader teaches him that not every problem needs to be solved with violence.

his life is very different than what it could have been.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au #bad end mk

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

summary: kissing your friend aka your crush

pairings: riddle :: jamil :: vil :: idia x gn! reader

warnings: none! just fluff ♡

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Sunlight was falling through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Heartslabyul Lounge and reflecting in your tea cup as you stared at the paper in front of you. Tapping the pencil against your chin you read through the assignment again only to lean back against your seat and sigh.

“Prefect, is there anything I can help you with? Please, do not hesitate to ask me if anything is unclear.” Riddle’s voice rang through the quiet room, the scraping of his pencil momentarily stopping as he looked up at you. “I’m sure it must be hard having to study an entirely new curriculum, especially when you can’t draw on any practical experiences with magic. As a housewarden it is naturally my duty to help my peers in their education.”

You were sure Riddle’s offer to help went beyond just his housewarden duties, having become pretty close friends with you after the overblot incident in your first month. Since then, he had gradually warmed up to you, inviting you over for unbirthday parties, study sessions or a stroll through the rose labyrinth. 

So, quite inevitably, you slowly felt your feelings for your friend change. What used to be gratitude for getting the Adeuce combo off your back or joy at having someone to eat lunch with shifted into excitement at seeing him again or disappointment when you thought you had caught sight of him in a crowd, just for it to be someone else. Once you realised the situation you were in, it became even harder to hide those feelings, especially when you could feel the heat crawling up your neck when the housewarden reached over to fix your tie or straighten your uniform.

“Thank you, Riddle. There actually is something I don’t understand,” you sheepishly scratched the back of your head. Sliding over your Applied Magic homework, you pointed out the question you were struggling with. “Why is it dangerous to use a spell like this in that situation?”

“Ah, I see.” Taking a moment to reflect on how to explain it best, Riddle’s steel grey eyes flitted to the roses outside for a moment. “Try visualising the question’s context and the effect of the spell you're casting before your mind’s eye. What kind of environment are you in and how would the magic affect it?”

“Hmm, the energy released from the spell could… shake the unstable structure of the walls and ceiling and cause it to collapse? And even if it doesn’t collapse, the falling debris could still cause major injuries?” 

“Yes, that’s correct. A lot of offensive magic packs more energy than defensive magic and therefore has a greater impact on the environment rather than the caster themselves,” Riddle explained further. “Now, consider all previously used magic. In this example, a few spells have already been cast, like this shielding spell for example. How straining are they on the caster and how long do they linger in the area?”

“Uh, let's see… The elements of previous spells might react with that of the current one, causing unpredictable side-effects. And in a stressful situation like this casting an unstable spell could put more pressure on the magic user, leading to… faster blot accumulation?” The last part was a total stab in the dark and you nervously watched Riddle’s unreadable expression before he gave you a satisfied smile.

“Correct again, Prefect. It is very impressive that you have such a nuanced understanding of Applied Magic, despite not being able to use it yourself.” The gleam in his eyes was genuine before he let out a defeated sigh. “If only some of the Heartslabyul first years would give magic a second thought before leaping into action…”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, having a pretty good image of just who he was referring to. Now, with your work out of the way, you could finally let your thoughts drift. And almost immediately they went to the housewarden sitting next to you. 

Looking at him, it was almost as if time stood still. In the afternoon sun, his hair was positively glowing and his grey eyes seemed even brighter than usual. As always, his posture was perfect and poised and there was such an elegance in the way he carried himself. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was actual royalty.

When he put the tea cup to his lips and took a sip you suddenly remembered the videos you had seen back in your world where people kissed their best friend to see their reaction or to confess. Riddle probably wouldn’t approve but when he turned to you, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his lips. You’d bet on the fact that they were soft with the taste of tea…

“-fect! Prefect! Are you alright? I’ve been calling your name multiple times now.” Blinking back into reality, you came face to face with a concerned Riddle who was leaning over. Putting the back of his fingers against your forehead, his brows creased even more. “I wanted to ask if you want to try the strawberry tarts Trey baked but you’re burning up. Perhaps you should go and rest up. The rules might not state it but you can even stay at Heartslabyul if Ramshackle’s too–”

Before the thought process registered in your brain, you had already pulled Riddle closer by his collar and connected your lips. You were right. As with every aspect of his life, his lips were properly cared for and pillowy soft and after you parted, you thought you could make out a hint of sweets and lemon.

With a shocked yelp of your name, Riddle snapped you back to the present once more. Under different circumstances, the sight of the usually put-together housewarden staring at you with saucer-wide eyes and his face decorated with a rose-red hue might have been endearing but, right now, it chilled you to the bone. 

Jumping up from your seat and noisily scraping the chair over the floor, you hurriedly stuffed all your belongings in your backpack, ready to book the hell out of there. “I’m sorry, Riddle, I really have to go water the cat and feed the plants–”

“Prefect please wait.” A hand gently wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. The short-tempered housewarden wasn’t yelling (yet), which you took as a good sign. In fact, he wasn’t meeting your eyes at all. “I have to admit that was quite the surprise. But… not an unpleasant one. Prefect, if I may be so bold, do you have feelings for me?”

“Well, I don’t kiss just anybody I meet,” you awkwardly chuckled but you quickly abandoned the idea of joking yourself out of this situation at Riddle’s unimpressed reaction. With a sigh, you conceded. “Yeah, I do have feelings for you. Look, I am really sorry, I don’t know what–”

“I’m not,” he quickly interrupted. “I’m not sorry this happened. I, too, like you. More than a friend, that is. I might not have the most experience in this field but I’m willing to try if it’s with you. However, I do believe there is a proper protocol to be followed.

“Prefect, before you spring another surprise kiss on me, may I take you out on a date first?”

JAMIL VIPER

The sound of boiling water and knives moving over a chopping board filled NRC’s kitchen. At this time of day -or should you say night?- nobody but Jamil usually came here. Most students were probably already heading to bed or cramming in a late-night study session right about now but the vice housewarden of Scarabia was still diligently meal prepping for the following day.

“Could you pass me the turmeric please?” He didn’t even look up to see if you had heard him, eyes still trained on his task at hand. 

“Sure, here you go.” Sliding over the spice, you took another moment to study his side profile. As always, there wasn’t much of an emotion readable on his face but you noticed how his shoulders seemed less tense than during the day. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

After he hummed a ‘thanks’, both of you went back to working in silence. You really appreciated Jamil trusting you enough to let you lend a hand, knowing just how strict he was about being the only one to prepare Kalim’s food. The first time you asked to help, in fact, he had watched you like a hawk and your hands had never shaken more.

At first, Jamil had been a little annoyed, thinking he’d have to look after someone else instead, but as you swung by more often, he started to appreciate the company. Not only did you not cause any trouble for him but you also stuck by him even after his overblot, whereas the rest of his dorm gave him a wide berth. So he allowed you to stay and if he ever ‘accidentally’ made too much food he let you take the leftovers.

And you, too, started to enjoy his presence more and more. You didn’t necessarily need to do something together, just being in the same space while working was enough to put you at ease. That was when you realised your actual feelings for Jamil but you didn’t know what to do with them.

Besides fear of rejection, you were also well aware of his position as Kalim’s retainer. Acting out on your feelings could cause a lot of problems for him even if he were to reciprocate them. Could he even accept them?

Before you knew it, your thoughts had distracted you enough to where your knife was merely hovering over the poor vegetable in front of you. As you were about to shake your distractions away, two warm hands already took the knife and board from you.

“You shouldn’t handle sharp objects when you’re not feeling well,” Jamil sighed but you could tell he wasn’t upset with you, rather, he was concerned. “You could seriously injure yourself.”

“I’m feeling fine actually,” you said. It wasn’t like you were physically unwell.

“Are you now? I couldn't help but notice you spacing out a lot more often lately.” Quickly throwing everything into the pot, Jamil leant against the counter with his arms crossed, giving you an earnest once-over. He was quiet for a while before mumbling “It’s okay to ask for help you know. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Workaholic,” you snorted. “Between the two of us, the one in need of a break is not me. Anyhow, it’s nothing, so don’t worry about me.”

“So there is something after all,” Jamil cocked his head to the side with a raised brow. 

“Great Seven, if you must know. Yes there is something that’s been weighing on my mind,” you groaned. “Are you happy now?”

“I’d be happier if you also told me how I can help you.” 

“And if I told you you can’t?”

“Then I wouldn’t believe you.” This guy…

“Agree to disagree, then,” you deadpanned. Turning your back to hide your burning cheeks, you pretended to wipe your hands. This once, you had wished Jamil’s sharp senses would fail him but of course not. 

The irony of this situation wasn’t lost on you.

As you had your back turned, you hadn’t noticed Jamil stepping closer, so you nearly collided with him as you went to face him again. Quickly, he steadied you by your shoulders, his touch lingering perhaps a little longer than necessary.

“Prefect, let me be perfectly honest with you, I’m worried about you. You’re not normally this distracted or careless.” And whose fault was that? 

“You know it’s hard to keep saying no to you like that. But I really don’t think you’d want to know,” you sighed. 

Aside from the bubbling pot, the kitchen was quiet as you leaned against the countertop and examined your fingers. For a moment, nothing but you two in this moment seemed to exist. Jamil wasn’t bound to the Asim family and your future wasn’t so uncertain. If only it matched reality.

“Try me.” Jamil’s voice was a lot gentler now. You thought you saw his hand hover over yours for but a second, then chalked it up to wishful thinking. “You’ve shown me that it’s okay to be my own person and that it’s possible for me to have my own dreams despite my status; I’m very grateful for that. I also really like… spending time with you, so please tell me what’s wrong.”

Heaving a deep exhale, you braved yourself for whatever was bound to happen next. Maybe you were about to lose a friend.

“I don’t know if it’s wrong but… I like you, Jamil.”

As you looked up you caught a glimpse of surprise on his features before it was replaced by his usual poker face. “I’d hope so, seeing as you’ve referred to me as your friend.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know that.” If you took the leap you might as well see it through to the end. Leaning in, you placed a quick kiss against his cheek before turning and marching straight towards the door, leaving Jamil alone in the kitchen. “I like you like that.” 

Luckily, the next day was a Saturday, so you could stay in bed and pull the covers over your head. Ignoring the yelling cat in your house and the absolute flood of text notifications from what you assumed was the first year group chat might as well have been your signature spell.

Eventually, you did crawl out from under the sheets and got dressed, even if it was just because the growling of your stomach became too annoying to ignore. As you were rummaging your fridge for something edible that wasn’t tuna, the doorbell rang which was suspicious enough. Nobody ever rang the doorbell.

As you approached the door, you could already make out Jamil’s neatly tied back hair. Steeling yourself, you slowly opened the door to find he hadn’t magically transformed into someone else.

“Jamil, what brings you over at this time of day?” Forcing as much normality as possible into your voice, you hoped that maybe he had just forgotten.

“I wanted to talk about what happened last night.” So much for that. “I sent you a few messages but you didn’t respond.”

“Nya! What’s that? Are you the reason my henchman has been hiding in bed all day?” You whipped around at hearing Grim speak, promptly grabbing him by the bow around his neck and throwing him out of the dorm.

“Go play with Ace and Deuce for the day.” Ushering Jamil inside, you threw the door closed before Grim could protest. “Don’t mind him.”

“I didn’t see you at breakfast,” he started as he handed you a container with some of the food you cooked yesterday. “I thought you might be hungry.”

As on cue, your stomach growled rather loudly. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Jamil, but you didn’t have to come all the way here just for that.”

“I also wanted to apologise,” he blurted out. Ah, so he came to reject you once and for all. “I didn’t give you a proper response. Well, to be fair, you didn’t give me the time to do it.”

You bashfully looked away, standing with your back towards him, at the memory of storming out of the kitchen. Your response came out a lot more seriously though. “Jamil, I’m sorry for saying something so selfish, I know that your work–”

You were cut off by being spun around suddenly until you were looking into Jamil’s sharp eyes. “No, I’m tired of my work getting in the way of what I want. You said it was selfish of you to tell me your feelings? Then let me be selfish as well and tell you I reciprocate them.”

There was such genuine certainty in those pools of grey, you couldn’t help but reach out and cup his cheek. One of his hands wrapped around your waist to pull you closer as the other found yours. Bringing it up to his lips, he held eye contact as he placed a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“For once, I’d like something entirely to myself.”

VIL SCHOENHEIT

“Hold still.” At Vil’s commanding tone you completely froze despite not moving much in the first place. “Good. Now close your eyes.”

You did as he said and tried your best not to flinch as the cool brush touched your eyelids. While Vil concentrated on perfecting your eye make-up, you did your best not to think too hard about his fingers currently holding your chin or how the scent of his perfume invaded your senses.

Despite being close friends with the Pomefiore Housewarden, it was still quite the task not to shrink away under his scrutinising gaze, even if it was directed at his own work rather than you. How did Epel endure this every day?

Well, the first year was most likely not head over heels for Vil and didn’t turn into a stuttering mess every time he talked to him. So much for your plan to play this crush cool and be as graceful and elegant about it as possible. Yeah, there was probably a reason you weren’t a Pomefiore student.

But then again, this was Vil you were talking about. The walking, talking, breathing definition of perfection. On top of that, he was smart and hard-working with the skills to back up his confidence. Naturally, he had people falling at his feet, no matter how intimidating he came across as. Not wanting to be seen as just another one of the masses, you decided to hide your feelings to the best of your abilities.

And so far, it seemed to be working. You were a regular visitor at Pomefiore dorm, so much so, the guards already let you pass the gates as if you actually belonged there. Seeing the actor achieve loftier goals over time, surpassing others and himself on numerous occasions, was fulfilling in its own way. There was a spark  of pride every time he was chosen for a new lead role or when he had the chance to work on a new line of skin care. Yet, although you got to be close to Vil this way, it still kind of stung to know that this would be all there’d probably ever be between the two of you.

“My, I have to say, this is a job well done,” Vil concluded, giving you a content smirk. Turning your chair to face his pristine vanity. What could you say, he was right. Even though the make-up wasn’t all that elaborate or out there, you still almost didn’t recognise the person staring back from the mirror. “You clean up nicely, potato. I’ll permit you to stand by my side now.”

“You never fail to impress me, Vil. Just, how do you do it?” you chuckled, your eyes finding his in the reflection. “Normally, I would’ve called it magic, but I know better now.”

“Magic has nothing to do with this. It’s solely hard work and practice which makes perfect.” Spinning you back around, he came face to face with you again. “While you flatter me, I am far from finished. I will see this through ‘til the end and perfect this look.”

With that, Vil went back to work, prepping your lips to the point where you were convinced this would be the smoothest they’d ever be. Then, with a look of utmost concentration, he started tracing them with a lip liner before filling them out with lipstick and applying gloss after blotting it.

Despite being finished, the housewarden didn’t move away from you and you were suddenly keenly aware of the distance between you. Or the lack thereof, rather. Subconsciously, your gaze drifted to Vil’s mouth before snapping back up as you caught yourself. Your heart was racing so fast, you’d be surprised if he didn’t hear it. Was this how you died?

You knew you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, but screw it. The few months here had already put you through so much, at one point you stopped thinking things through twice and just leapt into action. If you’d learnt anything in this school, then it was that you had to take what you wanted because nobody would just hand it to you.

So, against better judgement, you closed the gap between the two of you. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise but a simple kiss from Vil was overwhelming; it was entirely too much and then again not nearly enough. If you had to find just one word to describe it, it would be intoxicating. He might be the death of you but you couldn’t care less.

Even after such a short contact, pulling away wasn’t easy. Especially because you didn’t get far before a hand at the back of your neck held you in place. Your eyes flew open to see the challenge and amusement written in his lilac ones. Not that you minded per se.

In the end, you were positively stolen of your breath whereas Vil looked as dazzling as ever, except for the slight smudge of lipstick in the corner of his lips. In your opinion it only added to his charm though. 

When you had sorted your thoughts again, your tone was slightly accusatory. “You did that on purpose.”

“Whatever do you mean?” His infuriatingly handsome smirk looked just a tad too smug for him to play coy. “May I remind you that you are the one who kissed me?”

“You weren’t even surprised!” You bristled at his act. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I can read you like an open book, sweet potato. I just wanted to test if you’d be daring enough. Seems as though you’ve passed.” Reaching out a perfectly manicured hand, Vil wiped the stains under your bottom lip with his thumb while his gaze was trained on how your mouth parted at the movement.

“Hmm, it seems I need to do this again...”

IDIA SHROUD

Standing in front of Idia’s room, you firmly knocked on the door in a very specific rhythm to let him know it was you. Otherwise, there was a rather slim chance the housewarden would even open it. But luckily for you, you were one of the only people who were granted access to his abode. 

After grumbling a greeting, Idia widened the crack of his door just enough for you to slip through. The two of you might be friends but that still didn’t mean he was suddenly a ray of sunshine, especially when it came to social interaction. As you adjusted to the artificial blue light, you were already prepared to be tackled by a certain blue-haired boy but the anticipated weight never came.

“Huh? Is Ortho not here today?” you wondered.

“Ah no, uh… Ortho’s out running errands,” Idia mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other. “You’re probably disappointed now, right? It’s like seeing your bias is not at a fanmeet…”

“No, not at all! I was just noticing it. You’re the reason I’m here after all.” Winking at him, you were already grinning at his reaction for what you were about to say. “I’m Idia-biased after all.”

And he didn’t fail you. Instantly, his eyes widened and you could practically see him blue screen behind his golden irises. Meanwhile, the ends of his long hair tinged pink as he tried to hide himself by tugging the drawstrings of his hoodie tighter. “HUH?! I- You- What– You can’t just drop SSR dialogue like that on me…”

“Why not? It’s the truth and you’re supposed to tell the truth, no?” You tilted your head to the side expectedly. 

“What’s with you and your ability to turn a supposed buff into a massive debuff?” Idia shook his head miserably.

“Come on, I’m just teasing you. Although you are my fave, that part’s not a lie.” Nudging him back into the realm of the living as you pass, you plopped down on one of the gaming chairs in front of his PC. When had you asked him why he had two, he’d said that one was for Ortho, yet it was perfectly adjusted to your height. You just pretended he had fooled you though and didn’t comment on it further. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Uhm, that show we’ve been watching released a new episode today, so maybe we can catch up on that…” At your approval, he started setting everything up as you watched his fingers fly over the keyboard with such practised ease it amazed you every time. “You still remember the plot, right?”

“Of course, who do you take me for,” you playfully accused him. “The protagonist basically gets isekai’d to a mmorpg-like world and would die almost every two seconds if it weren’t for the cooler side characters.”

“Ya, cut him some slack. Everyone else grew up there while he’s a total noob.”

“Trust me, I know the feeling,” you deadpanned. “But even you have to admit his decisions are questionably stupid.”

Idia just looked at you as if you had grown a second head. “Is the outside perspective making you realise something or what?”

“HEY! I can go three minutes without being an orc’s breakfast.”

“Only because there’s no orcs on Sage’s Island,” he taunted with a grin, showing you his sharp teeth. In return you gasped in faux indignance before dissolving in a fit of giggles.

“Just imagine there’d be a show like this about NRC…” You tapped your finger against your chin. “I wonder what kind of tropes everyone would fall into. Like, Kalim and Jamil are your classic deredere and tsundere duo.”

“Riddle is the type of crazy skilled character you wouldn’t consider at first. But then he saves everyone by casting some seriously dangerous magic or something,” Idia sniggered.

“Meanwhile Malleus is the impossibly powerful, show-breaking character who is always conveniently absent when there’s a problem to be solved,” you sighed. Turning in your seat, you leaned your head against the back of the chair. “Say Idia, what kind of character am I?”

He tried to suppress his tiny squeak at the drop of your voice. To be honest, you had never been shy about showing your affection for the housewarden but you had come to the realisation he just wouldn't catch on, no matter how many hints you threw his way. Or rather, he’d convince himself you couldn’t possibly mean any of it.

“Y-You? Uh I guess, you always jump in to save the day no matter the risks, so you’d probably be some sort of knight in shining armour type. But with a serious case of ‘chosen one syndrome’,” he mumbled. “Seriously, only crazy people would play hard mode with those gimmicky stats of yours.”

“Aww, really?” you cooed before preparing yourself to strike. “What if I want to be the love interest though?”

By the look in Idia’s eyes it was a critical hit. 

“Lo-Love interest? You can be both I think… I mean there’s a lot of people you’re close to…,” the poor guy stammered. Seriously, how could one person be so smart yet so dense at the same time? But fine. If you needed to spell it out for him, so be it. 

Getting up, you slowly came to stand in front of his chair and propped your hands on the arm rests. You almost felt bad for him with how he was staring at you like a deer caught in headlights; Idia looked as if his life was flashing in front of his eyes. But you’ve had enough of your little cat and mouse game, it was time for the chase to come to an end.

“I was talking about your story. I want to be the love interest in your story, Idia. Hmm, how am I going to get that thought through your thick skull, I wonder…” You pretended to think about it for a moment before giving him a cheshire grin. “Ah, I think I have an idea.”

By now Idia’s hair was bright pink, matching the colour of his face, and he was radiating heat like a fireplace. As much as you wanted to see his reaction to a kiss on the lips, you were afraid it would actually kill him and you didn’t want this experience to end in giving him CPR.

So you settled for a sweet but lingering kiss to his forehead. Just as expected, his skin was warm to the touch and you felt him relax after the initial tense up. Maybe it were your own rose-red glasses but as you pulled away to cup his cheeks you could swear little hearts were flickering at the end of his hair. “Pardon the straightforwardness but I really needed to get my point across.”

“Wait, so you like me?!” Apparently his brain had kicked back into action at this point.

“I have for a while now,” you laughed, “but thanks for noticing.”

“So you were serious when you got me roses? And chocolate? And said I was your favourite?” The incredible tone of his voice was simultaneously endearing and heartbreaking. How could he not notice how amazing he actually was?

“I told you, it’s the truth,” you smiled. “So how about it? Can I be your love interest? Or is my affection already high enough to clear your route?”

“Woah you’re like straight out of an otome game,” he breathed. “Is this the super secret ending you have to play flawlessly for?”

“Oh come on, Idia,” you shot him another wink, paired with a teasing smirk, “You don’t really think this is the end, do you? If anything, it’s only the beginning."

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