#i am not all too happy with the drift but i literally just whipped him out in like 15 minutes so he can stay

[mychlapci]

all this tfp dratchet talk reminded me i once tried to do a tfp deadlock. had to redo the whole thing but i think it's fine now. i'll be honest with you i have no idea why i decided to fuck up one of his eyes but now i've accepted it as a part of my tfp deadlock/drift lore. deadlock was blinded in one eye and wore the injury as a point of pride. drift keeps the injury as well because he's a guilty, self-punishing idiot. unfortunate close-ups under the cut

#couldn't be bothered to colour a whole deadlock. i hate colouring things #i am not all too happy with the drift but i literally just whipped him out in like 15 minutes so he can stay #maccadam #transformers #tfp

[jshookthighs]

omg yes to corey's nsfw alphabet!!!😭

I am in too deep, I am now obsessed with this man and everything he does - he is just so baby girl that I can't help it. I think I've watched the movie like 4 times by now

***Minor DNI please I beg you!!!***

Corey Cunningham NSFW Alphabet 🔞

GIF by wtchystuff

God, the way he looks at her??? Make me blush

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

So sweet! He tends to just collapse on top and hold you close. For like a good 10 minutes, he refuses to pull out. Honestly, he’s gonna try to convince you just to let him stay the night inside you. If you do convince him to get up, he is doing everything for you. Do not move a muscle sweetheart, he’s got it covered. Warm washcloth to clean you up, grabbing you a water bottle, carrying you to the shower where he will just hold you tight, then he’s whipping you up a snack in the kitchen. Anything for his baby <3 but yeah he’s gonna be glued to your hip right after. Ya’ll just did something very intimate and he needs to show you that he loves you so much.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him: Well, baby boy here is a little self-conscious because of his mother and him being constantly harassed by the people of Haddonfield - but after he meets Michael in the sewer, he feels powerful and strong now so he’ll probably be much more fond of his hands. His hands can protect you now! With his hands, he can eliminate any problem that comes between you and him. His hands are also the things that can make you feel good. He prides himself on his ability to make you melt and scream his name with how well he can handle you

On you: Literally everything. You are perfect in his eyes. But if you sat him down and forced him to choose one, he can’t, he at least can pick two.

Your mouth - it’s cheesy but he just dies when you smile, especially at him. He will do anything to see you smile. He loves your laugh and how it fills the air, it’s like music that he wants on repeat. You give him kisses. Your lips are so soft and he always has this need to lean down and connect yours to his. It’s like heaven! With your mouth you tell him all the things he dreams about: “I love you, Corey” “You make me happy, Corey” “You’re such a good boy, Corey” “You feel so good, Corey” 

Thighs? Thighs. It doesn’t matter if they are big or small, bare or tattooed, or if there’s one or two - this man is in love with them. Always wants his hand on them! He wants them wrapped around his thighs, his waist, his head - they are just the perfect place to grab and use to manhandle tf outta you

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Thiccc stuff is coming outta him, so watch out, clean up is very important after this man. He eats clean and showers regularly so he does not taste bad at all, so no need to worry about that acid battery cum. He prefers to cum inside but if he can’t//you’re not feeling it tonight, his runner-ups are on the thighs, tummy, and just maybe the chest. When it comes to you going down though, he tries to be gentlemanly and cum in his hand but always finishes with the thought of his mess dripping from the softness of your lips. Will pass out if you swallow and will probably fall a little more in love with you <3

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

So absolutely terrified to tell you but he’s had fantasies of taking his knife and carving his name in the plush of your thigh. While the hickeys and bruises are a good way to deter nuisances from trying to get between you and him, the idea of having his name scaring into your beautiful skin for all eternity sends a violent shiver up his spine. It’s a thought that instantly makes him feel guilty for even having but his mind can’t help but drift to it when you wear those cute little sleep shorts around the house. Your legs look like the perfect canvas for the crimson swirls of the letters that spell out his ownership of you. Of course, he would let you carve your name in him - hell he’d have you scrawl your name loud and proud on the expanse of his chest

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before the incident with the kid, sure he went on a date or two but he never made it past first base. After that kid, he didn’t have any game, no one would even look at him - until you! You are his first, and god damn it, you are gonna be his last and he will make sure of that. He’s definitely watched porn but he knows that’s not really how it goes, you have to guide him the first time even if you’re a virgin too, he would be way too scared to mess up to even try anything without your explicit permission. His baseline knowledge is this: make you feel good and wear a condom

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl/cowboy, missionary, the butterfly, spooning, the lotus, and sometimes doggy - honestly this man just needs to hold you in some way and see your face when you fall apart 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Will try to be serious because he thinks that’s what he needs to be but can’t help himself but nervously chuckle whenever your teeth clash or one of you makes a weird noise. Laugh with him, it’ll make him feel better! Once he’s in his comfort zone, he can have some humor with it. Will wiggle his eyebrows and even give you a raspberry when you least expect it - once he feels safe with you, he has no problem letting go and just enjoying spicy time with you. If hes had a bad day - now that’s a different story, there are no jokes, no chuckles, no nothing - he’s on the attack and he’s intense tbh

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Has a snail trail that goes from the bottom of his belly button to the super cute patch of curly brown hair. He doesn’t shave but will landscape cause he wants to look nice for you. Whatever you say, he will do. If you really want him bare, he’ll do it. He does not expect you to shave, nor does he want to force you to do anything. He probably prefers if you just trim like he does, just so it’s not all crazy, but again, he really doesn’t mind what you do

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

King of intimacy - no one will ever treat you better, babe. Will wine and dine you, get you flowers - the whole works. But for basic stuff, he makes sure to hold your hand, press his forehead to yours, say the sweetest, most toe-curling things, and will absolutely just pamper you with love and pleasure. He adores you and has no problem showing you in the bedroom.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Tbh? I can’t imagine him masturbating often, even before you. I feel like he would do it like 1-2 times a week. Before ya’ll were even together, he did jerk off to a photo he found of you on social media and felt HORRIBLE after, he refused to even look at you for like two weeks to the point that you thought he didn’t like you anymore. He felt like such a creep for thinking about you like that, he felt dirty. Little does he know you did the same thing lol. After ya’ll get together, he really doesn’t see a reason to want to, he has you now! But sometimes you aren’t around when he gets himself all worked up and excited so he decides to let off some steam. He can’t jerk off without something of yours though, so that’s a new problem. His go-to’s are: the pillow you usually use, your shirt, and your underwear. He's gross but he's cute so it balances out

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise (both ways)

Oral (giving)

Hair-pulling (receiving)

Biting//marking (both ways)

Blood//knife (both ways) → it takes him a long time to admit this one 

Period sex (For my afab!babes) → same thing as blood kink - doesn’t think about it ill it happens

Light bondage (Both ways) → soft ropes, handcuffs, etc.

Dry humping // thigh riding (both ways)

Light spanking (both ways) → very cautious with this one, used for special occasions

Breeding → doesn't actually want to get you pregnant (if you can get pregnant)

Somnophilia (both ways) → Another dirty secret one, doesn’t act on it but wants to try one day

Body worship (both ways)

Cockwarming → if he could, he’d never leave

Predator/Prey play → What’s more thrilling than chasing you? It’s like he’s hunting a victim but he gets to make you feel good rather than kill you. Usually this kink comes out to play when he’s been pent up or frustrated 

L = Location (favorite places to do they do)

The bedroom is definitely his number one spot - it’s comfy, it’s safe, and it’s practical. He can also be happy with the couch, the wall, or the kitchen table - it’s mostly about just being in the safety of the house, he doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing you. Maybe, just maybe if you live where your neighbors aren’t that close by and you have a space of land that can hide you both like a forest will he think about outdoor sex

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Domestic bliss - if you cook him dinner, if you take a shower with him, if you do laundry together, he gets a boner in his heart which leads to a boner in his pants lol. He loves just being a “normal” couple with you, he’s such a sap honestly. Lingerie will get him going too, if you put in the effort to put on sexy clothes, he melts. But tbh, you can be wearing the bummiest clothes possible (stains and rips galore) and we will still be backing you up into the wall for a make-out session. Killing also gets his motor revving - the adrenaline from chasing down a victim and ending them really just gets him going

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Besides blood, no bodily fluids

 No ddlg//ddlb//daddy stuff 

No degradation//No humiliation  - that goes for either party, he refuses to call you anything negative and his heart would break if you called him mean names.

No boundary-pushing without communication - he’s not afraid to experiment but not when you don’t talk about it first

NO SHARING - nope, no way is he going to let anyone else touch you 

No slapping - can do spanking but cannot fathom hitting you in the face and hopes you don’t want to hit him either

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving. Period. He loves to go down on you - morning, night, or day, he does not care, he can and will get on his knees in a heartbeat. He started off very sloppy but was overall enthusiastic when he was first learning. But now? Godly at his skills. He learned exactly what makes you squirm and twitch. His record for making you come is a minute and thirty-eight seconds. He can do it standing up, sitting down, laying on the bed, you sitting on his face, mans can probably even do it upside down - he’s just that excited about it. While he loves when you go down on him, he doesn’t ask for it too often. But, he will always accept it with gratefulness. Please suck this man off more, he deserves it for his service

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Loves to make love - a slow, sensual pace because he wants to treat you right. Sweet and gentle a lot of the time and he’s especially soft and slow when it comes to events like Valentine’s Day, Anniversaries, Birthdays, and really just any day he’s overwhelmed with just how much love he has for you. He wants to show you that he cares, that he wants to keep you protected, and overall wants to show you how wonderful you are to him by giving you pleasure all sweet like. But as the lovely switch he is, that button gets flipped often. While he still wants to show you he loves you through action, he won’t treat you like glass. He’s not afraid to manhandle you this way and that. Sometimes, he gets so excited that he just jackhammers in, grinding hips to hips, and just gripping you tight to rock you back onto him. The pace is quick and I'd say mildly rough - like not a brutal pace but enough that just makes you feel the force he’s putting in. When he’s in the second mood, usually that’s when he’s hauling you up on the countertop, against the wall, or folding you over the arm of the couch. However, in the end, he is so willing to accommodate you - whatever you say, he’ll do. Slower, faster, harder, softer - you say the word and he is eager to fulfill your every wish

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan - he adores taking time to show you love and affection. He values that special time with you when he feels free to be vulnerable. Because physical touch is one of his biggest love languages, you already have sex quite often. But again, he’s a giver so if you ask, your wish is his command and he will deliver. And deliver he can, he can get you where you need to be in a scarily quick time so if you really, really, really need to blow some steam fast, he is most certainly the man to ask. It’s not gonna be a common occurrence though, you get one per month. Warning though, if he can’t take his time taking you apart piece by piece and putting you back together, he’s just gonna be a twitchy, leg-bouncing, agitated mess the rest of the day.  He feels unfulfilled and like he left a job half done. While a quickie is supposed to be quick, he still needs that aftercare period to be reassured that you love him and that you’re assured that he loves you - being left right after finishing would probably destroy him

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's not afraid of experimenting, he wants to explore anything that makes you and him feel good! As long as there is communication and boundary setting, he is really to dive into the world of new experiences. The riskiest thing he's probably ever done nicked your thigh with a knife, it was so light, you barely even felt it

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

When you start sleeping together, he comes way too fast - like the second you touch him, he’s shaking and creaming the inside of his pants. It’s cute but he’s embarrassed. But as time goes on this man’s stamina becomes ungodly to the point you are begging him to finish because you are so overstimulated. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not at first - honestly, he was insecure the first time you brought up the idea of using toys. He immediately felt like you were saying he wasn’t enough and that he couldn’t make you feel good enough. Not to worry, one healthy conversation and a lot of questions later, he has learned a very important lesson: toys are friends, not enemies. You experimented and overall he’s found out he does like to use a cock ring or vibrator on himself occasionally (on special occasions or when he really just has the itch to use them) but overall, you are the star of the toy show. He enjoys using vibrators on you - if it makes you feel that good, it’s definitely a tool he stocks up on - different sizes, speeds, settings, the works. However, he prefers to keep toy time on the back burner - not for every session. He still has a bit of an ego where he wants to bring you to that little death with his hands, mouth, and dick - it just makes him feel better

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will definitely tease you, but not really like normal. Like he will give you little touches here and there throughout the day and will playfully pull away when you go in for a kiss. He’s like a schoolboy - giggling and running away when he does something mischievous like pinch your butt while you’re doing the dishes. In the bedroom, I can see him still teasing you lightly, especially by being a brat while dirty talking → “What do you want? You have to tell me.” “What was that baby? Speak up!” “You’re so cute when you’re all worked up!” He is capable of edging you, but not for long because it’s basically torture for himself, and he can't stand not cumming. On the flip side, it’s so easy to tease him, a sultry glance from across the room and he’s a bright red, sweating mess. If you truly want to make him a wriggling, pathetic mess - tie his arms to the bed and tell him he’s only allowed to look while you play with yourself. He will break down into tears because he wants to touch you, he has to touch you, he’ll die if he can’t. A crybaby through and through. He’s so pretty when he cries, but have mercy please

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud loud loud - he is a crybaby. He whines and whimpers and moans so sweetly, like music to the ears. Always tries to hold back the noise but the more ya’ll go, the louder he gets. He can get louder than you most of the time. When he’s feeling a little aggressive, those grunts and growls still have their volume. His pants make him sound like he’s just run a 10k in 10 minutes. No matter what mood he’s in, his voice will crackle and break while he’s telling you the most deprived, disgustingly delightful things and thrusting his hips to emphasize every. little. word. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sometimes during it, he looks down (or up!) at you and just becomes entranced with how ethereal you are. The way your face is clenched in the throws of passion, how your hands reach desperately to grasp any inch of his body, and the euphoric sounds that leave your kiss-bruised lips - every little thing just captures his attention to the point that he just stops. He physically stops moving in order to just marvel at your beauty and he just becomes overwhelmed with gratefulness and love that he can't help but hold your head in his hands and just stare. “You are so beautiful, do you know that? Can you even fathom how lovely you are to me?” 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I already wrote this but I am happy to say it again → he’s 6 inches hard, thicker at the bottom, and has a small curve upward. Not very veiny but the tip is the prettiest shade of dark blush

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

A very healthy amount of yearning, probably a little higher than average but it doesn’t show. He can get hot and bothered easily, but he can understand that everything has a time and place. Because of his dislike for quickies, he expects sex to happen in the afternoon or nighttime. Of course, he can't pass up some tender, early morning loving on a Saturday when you have all the time in the world to just enjoy each other’s company.  That doesn’t mean he expects sex from you, no not at all, he just understands ya’lls schedules tend to make it so you’re both together towards the end of the day. Boo work and school I wanna lay in bed with Corey all day 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He refuses to shut his eyes for a minute until he knows that you are comfortable, safe, and feel loved. Aftercare is so important that no matter how hard he goes, it’s like a second wind. Of course, that is if you can get him to pull out of you first lol, he does love cockwarming. After his typical routine of cleaning you both up, getting water, etc. He’s wrapping you up all snugly in his arms until you fall asleep together. If it’s a situation where you can’t sleep afterward, he’s relaxed but not sleepy so don’t worry about him passing out at a party or dinner

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #slasher x reader #gender netural #halloween ends #halloween movie #smut alphabet #corey cunningham headcanons

[soleilnomoon]

Hiiii!!! Congrats on the milestone! I just stumbled upon your writing pretty recently, so I'm extra excited to catch this event :D Could I please ask for a little snack party with with crepe, tres leches, sorbet and pain au chocolat with some whipped cream and/or caramel? I'd love to share it with Ace (One Piece) :D <3 I'd prefer female reader, if possible. =) Thanks so much!! Looking forward to this event!

ahh i am so excited you sent this request in ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ thank you so much, i've been thinking abt this event for a while so i'm happy that it's finally here <3 i hope you enjoy your sugar rush ༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

1.4k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, fluff (somewhere) & smut; a lil angst because i'm goofy like that; semi-established relationship, ass grabbing, kissing, flirty banter, the works, etc.

the sky is an agglomeration of heavy pinks and dark oranges, the sun peeking childishly above the horizon, casting an eerie, yet shimmering glow over the ocean. a warm breeze carrying sea salt infiltrates through the open window, the curtains billowing freely; you blink yourself awake, remind yourself that you’re not actually in your own room, and attempt to extract yourself from the bed and ace’s strong hold.

because he’s so in tune with you, his arm doesn’t budge and, in fact, he pulls you closer — his chest a literal furnace, making you gasp on impact. “where do you think you’re goin’?” he asks, sleep trying to keep him lazy, but he fights it every step of the way. “it’s early, stay in bed.” you turn around to face him, rolling your eyes as you look at him. his eyes are closed, his dark lashes a stark contrast against his tanned skin, his freckles a splatter of brown spots — a cluster of stars you once told him; it was the first time you’d seen him blush earnestly, and you kept the memory tucked into your heart for safekeeping.

you touch his cheek with the tip of your finger and trace shapes from freckle to freckle, connecting the dots with imaginary lines; he stirs under your touch, eyelids fluttering open, a small smile tugging on his lips. 

“go back to sleep,” you tell him sheepishly, not wanting him to see the way you’re admiring his face. it doesn’t matter how many times you end up in bed with him, you’re still very much taken aback by his handsomeness.

“can’t,” ace says smoothly, yawning as he brings his hand lower and smacks your ass playfully. “i’m awake now.” which is a problem, since you fully intended on retreating to your own room so you can avoid the vulnerability that comes with intimacy. and while he’s not entirely big on being vulnerable too, he’s much more honest with his feelings than you are.

his eyes linger on your lips before drifting lower to properly take in the sight of you. he went a little overboard last night, littering you with marks that have certainly bruised over now. he should apologize, but he can’t find the words to say them. he’s not really all that sorry as he likes the way your skin looks with them; is in animalistic? sure. he wouldn’t be a pirate if he lived life according to societal norms. he touches a particularly tender mark which makes you wince and slap his hand gently.

“you’re a beast,” you say with a sigh, your breasts grazing his chest, reminding him of how much he loves having you near him.

“and you like it.” ace shoots you a knowing glance, going so far as to lift a brow at you, daring you to challenge that statement. you feel your face heat up, you swear it’s because ace’s body temperature is abnormal due to his devil fruit — but in reality, it’s because you like him so much it’s too much for you sometimes.

your nails drag down his skin, a hiss leaving his mouth once your hands reach lower and grab onto his cock. he lets out a quiet groan, eyelids lowering as you stroke him slowly, hands twisting around the base of his cock, his hips moving with your touch. you’re always enthralled with the way he bites his lip, with the way he desperately stifles his moans — because being loud early morning will only get him teased by your crew mates — and with the way he looks at you with equal parts adoration and lust.

it’s a beautiful sight, really, so you move your hands faster, making sure to run your thumb along his slit, earning a much louder moan from him; you smile triumphantly at that. 

“so the beast can be tamed,” you say haughtily and drape your leg around his hip, hands roaming up his chest to hold onto his shoulders. “still want me to stay in bed with you?”

his breath ragged, ace doesn’t think as he rubs his cock against the slick folds of your pussy; he knows that if he doesn’t fuck you soon, he might actually lose his damn mind.

“what do you think?” he asks gruffly, hands roughly grabbing your thigh, holding you steady as he pushes the thick head of his cock into you. your whines are the perfect melody, and when you push your hips forward in an attempt to get him to bury his length inside you all at once, he laughs at your persistence. but rather than keep teasing you, he gives you what you want.

your fingers sift through his dark hair, a light sheen of sweat coating your skin as you adjust to his girth, yet it’s still not enough.

“ace,” you call out softly, before saying his name louder again, your hips bucking against his as he slams his cock into you, his thrusts lazy and dizzying.

“hmm?” he nuzzles his face against the crook of your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he contemplates biting you again. you’re not sure if you’re actually feverish or if his thrusts are burning you alive. either way, it all feels too damn good. movement on the deck alerts you to the ongoings of your crew mates. you almost tell ace that you should probably go, but he gives you a look — an impish one that basically lets you know there’s trouble coming soon — and picks up his pace, giving you deep strokes that has your back arching and your thighs burning.

you hate how good he makes you feel, how he can easily have you under his thumb without even trying. your pussy is the one delicacy that drives him wild and he’d rather cut off both of his arms than ever see you in the arms of another. he won’t exactly call it possessive, but he’s a man who knows what he wants, and he always wants you.

he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top so you can straddle him; he watches the surprise on your face and grins innocently, which makes you slap his chest lightly.

“don’t make that face,” you say breathlessly, moaning louder as you sink down onto his thick cock. your hips move on their own accord, rolling against his as he thrusts into you recklessly. you’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it, but you can’t help yourself when you unabashedly tell him to fuck you harder, his balls slapping against your ass loud enough to make you blush. you hate that you like how well he fits inside you, and he loves the way your pussy clenches around him, almost as if it’s angry at all of the pleasure.

and it probably is, since ace is the only one who can make you feel this way.

exhaustion prevents you from moving as much as you want to, so ace powers into you roughly, hands holding your hips as his cock reaches a spot so deep that it has your eyes rolling back almost immediately. 

“oh, fuck, yes right there.” your words get incoherent after that, and he laughs softly, leaning up to kiss you, his body equally hot, sweat pooling along his temples, dark hair plastered onto his skin. you’re absolutely breathtaking, and he says as much as he mumbles against your lips, strokes much shorter, thrusting recklessly until an orgasm has you screaming his name — which only makes him want to fuck you all over again. 

he’s insatiable, he knows, but can you blame him? have you seen yourself?

ace swipes his thumb against your clit, a jolt of electricity rendering you useless as you tremble on top of him, whining and babbling as you claw at his skin.

“i know, baby, i know,” he says softly, kissing your neck, hips slowing as his own orgasm finds him, his cum pouring into you thick and hot, making you shudder audibly. you’re too tired to move, so you slump over on him, chest heaving, a stupid smile on your face. he’s done it again — successfully making you feel things you don’t have time to feel. still, you can’t deny how much you like being with him, even though he’s always doing things his way, even though he disrupts your peace with his foolishness. it’s love, you know it is; you’ll never admit to it, not now anyway, and you hope he won’t expect you to voice those thoughts anytime soon.

but as he brushes his lips against yours, a calm passes over you, and maybe indulging in those feelings might not be all that bad. you’ll just take it one day at a time.

#fic request #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭 #milestone event #500+ followers event #one piece imagine #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #portgas d. ace #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d. ace x y/n #ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace smut #this was so fun thank u again for requesting #spitfire-of-the-sea

[starg1rlie]

(is it too late to participate in this wonderful idea ?! i've never seen someone do sumn like this so i'll give it a try if its still open or so!)

💍 w/ xiao if u don't mind !! i am a very open minded person who is also straightforward when i have to & a bit shy but once you get to know me personally, i am very clingy but i also know my boundaries. hobbies are Uh i don't go outside so i tend to play rpg or fps games instead at home! But of course I still Touch grass when i feel like it ^^ WOO SURPRISE MEE

(hey, sorry for taking so long to fill out your request! hope you understand, and here it is! (p.s: i may or may not have previously written most of this when it was 5 am, so i literally had no idea what i was doing...i only proof-read and edited it a little bit. nonetheless, i hope you still like it!!)

matching frog hats & dino onesies

xiao feels absolutely humiliated right now. wearing this itchy and ridiculous-looking hat made him feel like burrowing deep within the earth (six feet sounds about right) and staying hidden in the ground for the rest of eternity. the fact that you were recording everything on your phone made it all worse. stop, i look stupid, he said, tugging the frog hat further down to cover his pink cheeks. you merely laughed, as if you relished his embarrassment, and forced him to show his face for the camera. say froggie! you teased, snapping a pic after your reel finished and saving it onto your phone. i hate you, xiao muttered under his breath, yanking off the hat and unzipping the dinosaur onesie you bought for when it got cold. i love you too, you replied, giving him a kiss before dashing off to put the finishing touches on your posts.

lighting sparklers on new years

he didn't understand what the point was for lighting sparklers on new years eve when there was a large firework showcase going off right now. but you insisted and since he didn't really have the power within himself to deny your request, he reluctantly agreed and was immediately dragged out of the household, box of sparklers loosely gripped in his hand. honestly, you're acting like it's christmas day all over again, xiao said with a delicate snort, striking a match againt the box and lighting two sparklers, one for you and one for himself. do we really need to do this? he inquired when you whipped out your phone once more to "capture the moment". you only nodded, focusing on changing the lighting and filters on your phone so that the picture turned just right. see, look how pretty it looks! you exclaimed, holding out your phone for him to see. but his attention drifted elsewhere, particularly on the happy smile that adorned your features. yeah, pretty...ahem, are we going to just let them go out or do you plan on doing more pictures? xiao cleared his throat awkwardly, tugging desperately at the collar of his shirt to cover the blush that threatened to creep further up the nape of his neck. you thought nothing of it and continued snapping away, gleeful as could be.

he's obsessed w/sanrio (keroppi and kuromi)

he'd probably not admit this to anyone except you, but he really enjoys sanrio merchandise, more specifically, keroppi and kuromi. call him a geek all you want, but he'll immediately make a beeline for the sanrio items whenever the two of you head to a daiso* store. look, this reminds me of you, xiao will say, holding up a my melody plushie, pointing at her sweet expression. you, on the other hand, looked less amused and simply went back to testing out the different pens and highlighters they had to see if there was anything you could add to your stationary collection. can we get this? xiao asked, holding up a kuromi keychain (no doubt for his car keys) and a kuroppi pin. you nodded and headed towards the cashier line. at least now i know what i can get you for your birthday, you said jokingly as the two of you made your way back to the car. xiao wasn't really paying attention, focusing on pinning kuroppi on his sweater.

hosting game night

he's not really interested in playing video games, but he has tried a few, specifically animal crossing and a pokemon game called pokemon remix cafe. xiao prefers chill and relaxing games, not ones where you feel the need to scream at your screen and throw your controller across the room. so when you suggest a game night, xiao can't help but feel a bit wary what he's getting himself looped into. he's absolutely relieved when you introduce him to a rpg game and soon, he became hooked (although, he still prefers watching you play than himself playing it). he'll come sit next to you and watch the story unfold before he gets so into he decides to start the game for himself. results in the two of you playing side by side and sharing each other's progress within the game.

doing his hair

since xiao has short hair, the only hairdo you could manage with him was a weird-looking pair of pigtails and the occasional ponytail if he lets his hair grow out. one time, he let it go past his shoulders and you attempted to do a french braid. is this really necessary? he said while you kept tugging on his hair, braiding it together. yes, yes it is. now quite whining, i'm almost done. with that, you swiftly tied the end of the braid and swung it over his shoulder. there. what do you think? you brought him over to a mirror, gesturing dramatically at his new hairdo. i look like a woman with this hair, xiao said, deadpanning hard. no you don't, you look fine. xiao looked up at you and reached up to touch his braid. take me to the barber's. you reeled back, horrified. all of his luxoriously soft locks being cut? you wouldn't stand for it. no! xiao sighed and got up. fine, then i'll just cut it myself.

#( ﾉ ﾟｰﾟ)ﾉ leeo writes! #(｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ leeo replies!! #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #xiao genshin impact #alatus #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin drabble #romance #fluff

[cherryyharryy]

angst to fluff where y/n finds out she was originally just supposed to be a rebound type thing after he broke up with someone like idk something like he broke up with someone on the european leg of tour and she was supposed just be with him until he went on another leg but then he started to love her and brings her on the rest of tour with him and she finds out abt the rebound thing after the last show of tour where everyones drunk and celebrating and one person lets it slip

I tweaked it just a bit...hope that's ok:)

WC: 3.5K

****

“You look beautiful.”

I skim my nose across Harry’s cheek, his chin resting on my shoulder, and hum against stubble that wasn’t there this morning. “You’ve said that five times tonight.”

“And?” He slips around to face me.

His suit is a deep maroon, probably black if you’re far away, probably purple if you’ve had too much champagne. His chest expands when I slide my hand down.

“Love this dress.” He takes my hand off and pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my head.

“You two forget where you’re at?” Another foreign voice surrounds us, well, foreign to me.

“Fucker,” Harry says to the man. They pat each other’s backs as the guy walks away. “Tyler Johnson.”

“Oh.”

“He worked with me on the last album.”

“Okay.”

It’s like the fifteenth person that I’ve been introduced to tonight, all of whom pass by with quick hellos, inside jokes with Harry, and little interest in me. The fast paced world of the rich and famous doesn’t slow down, even for charity.

“Harry, so glad you could make it.” Another voice, another man. This one lingers, long enough to receive my name, and offer a cliche compliment about my patience to put up with this beautiful bastard on my arm.

I thank him with the smile I’ve learned to speak through. These celebrities never stop smiling. Never stop posing. Never stop.

Then he’s gone too, and Harry’s whispering yet another name in my ear, of which I’ll forget seconds later because these people ultimately mean nothing to me. They all seem to pass through each other’s lives whenever convenience allows, playing house and acting like grown ups who get the privilege of not truly growing up.

I feel like the Gucci dress Harry had tailored to my body doesn’t fit. My posture sucks. I’m too scared to eat any of the finger foods being carried on silver platters through the hall. I haven’t learned how to smile through food I don’t like or not make a mess or take small enough bites. I swear, not one glass of champagne has any lipstick on it. They’re like magic.

I look at Harry. He’s stepped away to converse with a face that I do know. He and Jeff speak animatedly, Harry’s arms gesturing to whatever story he’s telling. I step over to one of the dressed tables and place what little weight I can onto the chair, needing to cling to something. When I look back up I smile, the two of them now laughing, and probably a little too loud for this charity auction.

“Y/n...right?”

I whip around, a man I’ve seen in pictures on Harry’s phone holds out his hand.

I straighten my back and accept his greeting. “Yes.”

“Finally we meet!” He catches my confusion and chuckles. “I produced Harry’s last album.”

Something clicks in my head, and he’s suddenly more familiar. “Oh! I knew that.”

Tom Hull...Kid Harpoon I process just as he introduces his name.

“I—”

An arm slipping around my waist stunts my question, Harry tipping back a red drink with his free hand while the other squeezes my hip. “Just tell this one to leave you alone,” he jabs.

Tom rolls his eyes, patting the breast of his green suit to look for something, only to show off his middle finger.

“Can’t believe the two of you haven’t met,” Harry says.

“I know, I guess we just missed each other.” Tom nods to me. “Heard you went to quite a few shows.”

“As many as I could.”

An uneasy sting travels down my spine. I did go to many shows, practically following Harry around his entire tour...all on his dime. Lord knows the man can afford it, but I still felt weird about him dishing out thousands of dollars to add me to each plane ride.

“Well I’m happy to see you two kids together,” Tom jokes, patting Harry on his back. “I’ve told him he needs to date women who will fuck him up. That’s where the songs are.”

He saunters off like he did not just say that. No. Absolutely not.

My face burns and it hurts to turn my head, but I still manage to narrow my eyes at Harry.

“Do you want another drink?”

I wait. I give him more than enough seconds to explain what the hell that was. But he’s clueless—ignorant.

“No. I do not.”

***

I do not bother taking my heels off in the car. My plan is to storm into our hotel room the second we park. Possibly locking Harry out...haven’t decided on that part yet.

The vague chit chat he makes with the driver stirs my nerves. It shouldn’t make me angry, and it’s not so much the act as it is his demeanor. He’s too cheery right now and it’s pissing me off.

“Okay,” he grabs my attention from Los Angeles flying past my window, the partition rolling up to leave us completely alone in the back seat. “What’s wrong?”

I bite my tongue, literally. “Nothing.”

“You seemed...irritated.”

“Did I?”

“Y/n.”

I turn to face him, inhaling sharply to calm my coming words. “Why are you with me?”

His face pales, and not a muscle moves. He just stares at me until he finally blinks and starts jerking his jaw around. “What are you talkin’ about?”

I roll my eyes. “The fact that you don’t know, bothers me even more.” I sigh, fighting back tears because I am determined not to cry in front of him. “Tom said that you should date people that fuck you up.”

“O—oh. That’s all?”

I squint, curling my lip. “What do you mean, that’s all? Is that not enough for you? Because that was a lot for me to hear tonight.”

“Baby, he was just messing around.”

I don’t budge.

“Really, it’s nothin’ to think about.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, trailing his hand down to cup my jaw. “Promise. It’s just like when people told you that you could do better than me, or insult me to compliment you.” He shrugs. “It’s just party talk.”

I process his words, supposing he’s not wrong. He did receive quite a few insults in lieu of my praise tonight. Maybe I was just on edge because of the setting; being surrounded by the rich and famous while I struggle to pay my rent each month isn’t exactly grounds for positive thinking.

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” He leans over to kiss me, stroking my face as his lips skim over mine. “Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?”

***

It’s funny how your brain works. How emotions swoop in and corral your thoughts, like a salesman who pretends to care about you so they can get what they want. My mind was desperate for relief, from hearing Tom’s nervy comment, and I naively allowed Harry to take what he needed in that moment.

Something’s not quite right. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it.

I’ve been mulling over Harry’s words in my head all weekend, playing them on repeat, hoping they’ll start to make sense, but if anything their value keeps dropping. What worries me the most, is that I don’t know whether he’s trying to protect me or himself. I don’t know if one is any better than the other.

It’s golden hour when we pull up to the beach. I can hear the music before I even open the car door; a volleyball shoots up over the rows of bushes hiding the party, disappearing and popping back up a moment later.

I don’t really want to be here, but I also don’t want to be the girlfriend who won’t support their boyfriend.

“Ready?” Harry asks, and I nod.

The closer we walk, the clearer the music becomes. Harry’s voice takes over the private beach, and I wonder if they’re playing his entire album or just Golden on repeat.

A good bit of the people drinking and chatting I recognize form the event the other night, but there are still plenty of new faces. I take some fruity drink that was offered to me and down half of it before my feet hit sand.

And so the routine continues. I’m introduced to someone, they compliment me, laugh with Harry, congratulate him on pretty much everything he’s ever done, and then repeat with a new face. I do manage to find Sarah at one point after I’ve detached myself from Harry, and the two of us head for the water.

“Are you feeling okay?” Sarah asks once our toes are wet.

I hold my breath and count to five, finishing whatever the hell I’m drinking before I can answer her. “I’m great.”

“Harry said you weren’t doing too well after the auction?”

“Yes, Harry does a lot of talking with people when I’m not around.”

“Alright, spill it,” Sarah says.

I trace the rim of my glass, flicking my eyes over my shoulder to make sure we’re far away from the party. “It’s stupid, really, I’m just a little...I don’t know...Tom said something the other night that rubbed me the wrong way. And Harry doesn’t seem to care.”

“What did he say?”

“Just something about how Harry needs to have relationships with people who will fuck him up.”

“Ooh,” she nods, seemingly well versed in the statement. “Yeah that’s an Iggy Pop quote. Tom mentioned it in Rolling Stone when he was interviewed.” She sips her drink, eyes growing small over the rim. “It was just a cheap line of advice he gave Harry after he was torn up after his last breakup.”

“Wait, so he actually did say that before? Like before the other night?”

Sarah drifts her eyes up in thought, nodding. “Um hm. After him and Camille broke things off.” She shrugs, and gestures to the party exploding on the beach behind us. “Fine Line.”

I have no idea what I’m feeling. No clue what is coursing through my veins, but it’s not blood anymore. The corners of my jaw tingle until my face starts going numb, my breathing shallow and chest tight.

“You okay?”

“I uh, I gotta go.”

Sarah calls after me but I let my name die in the breeze as I march back to the crowd. It’s nearly dark now, and finding Harry among all his people will take forever. I try to look for him, but I’m so distraught I can’t concentrate long enough to make out faces. I give up and head back to his car, only to find it’s locked. The asphalt is warm on my legs as I lower down to the ground, careless to the dirt I’m getting on my clothes and the scratches on my skin.

I’m not in this position for long. Not long enough, at least. Harry rounds the corner of the bushes, speeding up when he sees me.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

He moves to sit down beside me, but I jump up before he can.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

“Whoa! What!? What’s gotten into you lately?”

“I told you! What Tom said the other night!” I’m yelling, too loud for public, I know. But a small part of me wants someone to hear. I want to disrupt the bubble Harry lives in.

“And I told you that it was just nonsense.”

“And that’s why you’re a liar! Sarah just told me, that he said that to you after you and Camille broke up.”

“Okay...and?”

I inhale as deep as I can. It makes me dizzy, adds to my headache. “And, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? With the knowledge that the only reason you’re even with me, is because I’m gonna fuck you up so bad you’ll get songs out of it?

“Y/n,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “you’re taking this waaay too literally. Trust me.”

“You’re not in a position right now where I even want to trust you.”

“This has gotten completely out of control. I cannot believe you’re this upset over something so stupid.”

“Right there, Harry!” I point at him. “You keep dismissing how I feel! You don’t even care that this upsets me! That I feel like I need to reevaluate our entire relationship!”

“What is there to evaluate!? I haven’t even done anything! You’re blowing up about something that someone else said!”

“But you listened to him!”

“What,” he shrugs, “what do you want?”

“I don’t know what I want, Harry. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” He pauses, swallowing. “Us?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, us. I can’t be with you if—if you’re just waiting around for me to ruin you emotionally.”

“You’re seriously gonna let someone else’s words do this to us? You’d break up with me because of something another person said?”

“Harry, if I break up with you it’s gonna be because of what you’ve done. I don’t care that he said it, I care that you agree to it. And quite frankly, it’s pretty insulting to Camille. You spent a part of your life with that girl, and you just capitalize off of it. I’m not gonna let you do that to me.”

“I’m not capitalizing off of anyone! What the hell am I supposed to write my songs about? I’m just supposed to not date then?”

“It’s the fact that you sought out a relationship in order to fuel your writing.”

“No, y/n, that’s not what I did.” He narrows his eyes at me, and even in the dark I can see his anger. “I sought you out because I was devastated after me and her broke up. You were only supposed to be a rebound.”

I feel like the wind’s been knocked out of me. The music overhead blurs into noise scraping my eardrum, my vision grows weak and foggy. He wanted to hurt me, and he did.

“I expect a thank you when you release your next album.” I spin on my heel and head towards the main road, yanking my phone from my pocket to call an uber. For the second time tonight, my name trails behind me in the wind. I can hear Harry’s steps pick up, and as fast as I walk, he still catches me.

“Y/n, please, let’s go back to the hotel. You can hate me and not talk to me, but please don’t leave.”

I ignore him, trying to set up my ride. “Where the hell are we?”

He glances at my phone, and I can tell he considers keeping the answer to himself, so he can keep me to himself. He drops his voice, much weaker than before. “Carbon Beach. Canyon road.”

Ten minutes.

“Y/n—”

“I am not interested in discussing this with you.”

“I’m so sorry. I—I was mad and was just trying to win the argument. Whichever way I could.”

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Y/n, please, honey. I don’t want to lose you.” He drags his hands down his face, keeping his palms dug into his eyes. When he lets them drop, there are tears spilling down his cheeks. “I can’t lie and say you weren’t, but yes you were a rebound for me, but that went away. Literally weeks after we started dating. I care about you so much. I wouldn’t drag you to every show and event I have if I didn’t. I’m so proud to call you mine. The last thing you are to me is—is just grounds for my writing.”

I stare out across the road. A jeep speeds by and the gush of wind it brings sends chills down my arms.

“Harry, I just...it’s a lot. You’re a lot. Your life is a lot.” I sigh and slowly turn to face him. “It feels like the significance of us being in each other’s lives are so different.”

He kicks a rock across the road, dust flying up around us. “Fuck. Y/n I’m begging—”

“They’re here.” I nod to the headlights approaching us.

“Baby, please.”

“I think I need to be alone right now.” I get in the backseat. “Enjoy your party.”

***

I text him when I’m back at the hotel, having nowhere else to go. I didn’t think my plan of leaving through, because he’ll come back here before the night’s over. But I’m hoping he’ll stay away for a bit, long enough for me to process everything at least.

Deep down I know there’s not as much to the comment as I thought. And Harry’s not that type of guy. But the lack of concern over my feelings...the fact that I was just used as a warm body while he got over Camille...that’s what hurts the most.

There’s a fine line between being sorry because you’ve been called out, and truly being sorry. How sorry can he be when he got what he wanted? Even if I’m not what he envisioned past a few quick fucks, he still comes out on top happy.

I feel like the lifestyle these people live is embedded with secret codes, all of which I’m not wired to pick up on. The money, the mistakes, the adoration... Everything is a lot, and playing catch up is nearly impossible.

I don’t get the alone time I’d wished for. There are curses and clicks of the doorknob right before Harry comes in. He stands at the entrance, staring at me on the lounge chair like he’s unsure if I’m real.

“Wasn’t sure you’d come back here.”

“Where else can I go?” I nod to his phone in his hand. “I texted you.”

“I was driving.”

I sigh, flinching when he turns the lights on. “I know you wanna talk, but I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, dropping his keys on a table to come sit beside me. “I’ll talk though.” He inhales, holding his breath for a second before forcing the air out. “I know that me saying I’m sorry means shit to you right now. And to be honest, it probably is coming from me...in a way. You’re right about everything. And whatever you’re feeling, once you figure that out, you’re valid about that too.”

“How would you feel if you were only meant to be temporary in my life? You never mentioned why you were interested in me in the beginning. And no, I never would have gone out with you had I known. I would never want to be someone’s rebound. There’s just something sneaky about that.”

His head drops into his hands, and his shoulders shake right before I hear him cry. “I know, I—I get so caught up in myself sometimes. I’m such a fucking prick.” When he looks up, his eyes are burnt red, glassy and defeated. “I don’t deserve you, and I really don’t deserve anyone.”

“Harry,” I chastise, not expecting the downward spiral he’s ventured onto.

“I swear I care about you. I want you to be happy, and I want to make you happy. I don’t want to be the one to treat you this way. Ever.”

I inhale as deep as I can, holding my breath until it hurts. “I know.” I take his hand in mine. “And I know your heart, and I know you care about me. I—” I sigh, “I’m not comfortable with...just forgetting all of this though. I can forgive you, but I think we need to take a couple steps back. I’ve gotten so swept up in your life and your world, I’m losing my own.”

He nods slowly, accepting my words with a pained face.

“I care about you too.”

He looks up for the first time, catching the last few tears with the back of his hand. “I know you do.”

I offer a small smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes fall closed, and blindly he turns to press his lips to mine. Our kiss is salty and urgent.

“What did you say to everyone when you left?”

He frowns in thought, like the memory is too far away. “Nothing. Jumped in my car and prayed this is where you’d be.”

I take his hand and pull us both to our feet. “We should go to bed. It’s been a long night. Too long.”

We’re quiet and slow as we shed our clothes and brush our teeth, slipping into bed around two a.m.. Harry doesn’t waste a second in pulling me into his warm chest, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug that has me burying my face into his neck.

We lay there, silent, but when I know I don’t have much longer before sleep overcomes me, I kiss his shoulder, whispering how much I love him before I close my eyes.

#ehhhhh #idk #i think i'm ok with writing angst #but struggle with turning it into fluff #i tried tho #requests #requested #harry styles #harry styles writing #cherryyharryy #cherryyharryy writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst to fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles ou

[bbysamu]

It ain’t Me - a series   

✎ Featuring: KUROO Tetsurou x you 

✎ Now Playing:  It Ain’t Me by Kygo & Selena Gomez 

✎ Genre: Angst 

✎ Word Count: 1,573 

✎ Preview: You and Kuroo are high school sweethearts, you thought your love was as strong as whiskey, burning and sweet. What happens when adult Kuroo develops a bad habit of clubbing too frequently and you find it harder and harder to reach him? 

Ch. I 

Ch. II

Ch. III

Ch. IV

Ch. V

Epilogue

a/n: no underage drinking please, don’t hinder your brain growth

♫I had a dream We were sipping whiskey neat Highest floor, The Bowery And I was high enough♫ 

“shhh, you have to be quiet babe, we’re not exactly allowed up here”, your boyfriend whispered as he pulled you up, guiding you to the rooftop. You nodded, slowly steadying your breath. 

The dark sky was empty with the exception of the half covered moon and some stray stars. Today was you and Kuroo’s second anniversary, your relationship lasting much longer than typical high school romances. Kuroo had texted you today saying he had a surprise for you. 

And the said surprise was a late night picnic on the school’s rooftop surrounded by big fluffy pillows and dimly lit candles. 

“when did you have time to organize all these?” 

Kuroo smiled proudly, “I had the boys bring over some spare pillows and Lev and Kenma hauled them up here during their free period”. You smiled at the image of the two boys bringing up pillows to the roof, giggling at the thought of Kenma complaining as he climbed the stairs to the roof. You made a mental note to thank the two tomorrow. 

Kuroo gingerly picked up your hand and led you over to the picnic blanket. The two of you quickly settled down, his arms around your waist, as you laid your head on his shoulder, talking about both everything and nothing. 

Kuroo suddenly brought out a bottle of light honey liquid. 

“Happy 2 years to the love of my life.” He said, delicately pouring the golden liquid into a small glass.

“only one glass?” You raised your eyebrows.

“of course, you’re not 18 yet!” 

“I’m literally turning 18 next week and you just turned last week!” 

“exactly! no underage drinking in this relationship.” He smiled cheekily at you before taking a swing at the liquid. You laughed out loud at his expression.

“ew people actually like this stuff? my throat is literally on fire.”

“wait, let me try!” 

“okay.” 

And instead of handing you the glass, Kuroo leaned in. 

You smiled as his tongue met yours, giving you a taste of the sweet whiskey. 

And that’s how the both of you will always remember your second anniversary, the empty night sky and the sweet, burning taste of whiskey. 

In the years since high school graduation, the two of you have settled into a comfortable pace, no longer the young teenagers, but hardworking adults in a cruel society. The honeymoon period was a distant phase, but that didn’t mean the love between the two of you dwindled. 

You shot a quick text to Kuroo. His lack of response brought a frown to your face. You tried to call him for the third time, this time directly reaching his voicemail. You sighed at the thought of him pressed up against another body and glared at the laptop in front of you. 

Halfway across the town, Kuroo stepped into the dimly lit club in a pressed black button up and some black pants. He lived for nights like these, the mingled bodies on the dance floor and the beautiful ladies. 

Kuroo loves you and he’s been warned by Kenma a bunch of times but he just couldn’t help himself. Kuroo knew you hated the club but he could never bring himself to stop coming. Week after week, especially since you started being asked to work overtime, Kuroo found himself and some of the boys at the club, drinking and dancing with the girls in the short skirts and bodycon dresses. 

Yamamoto wolf-whistled at the sight of the girls walking by, “dang, look at that girl in the black mini”. 

Kuroo whipped his head around and checked out her long legs and low-cut dress before turning to Yamamoto, “I need a drink first”. 

Yamamoto shook his head knowing what this meant. A drink then another was what Kuroo needed to numb himself from the growing guilt eating him away every time he was at the club. With enough alcohol, Kuroo was always able to convince himself he did nothing wrong as he gripped the waist of another woman, his lips on hers. 

He winked at the bartender and a shot was served up. The burning, sweet liquid brought him back to that picnic on the rooftop. He shook his head, chasing away the memory and shot a smile at the girl in the back dress, before making his way over to her. 

♫Somewhere along the lines We stopped seeing eye to eye You were staying out all night And I had enough♫

It was a little past midnight when you made your way over to Kuroo’s apartment, spare key in hand. You knew he was probably at the club, but he promised he’d be home around midnight. Things have been tense between the two of you lately. You sighed at the memory of your fight last week. 

“What do you mean it was nothing?” You shouted, exasperated at the man sitting across from you. “She was all over you!” You sighed internally, tired of always fighting with Kuroo about his clubbing behavior. 

Kuroo shook his head, “babe, I told you, I literally pushed her away, but the video caught the seconds she came on to me before I could even react. I love you, you know that. Why would I ever want someone else?” Kuroo knew he had you by the way your eyes softened, he mentally winced at his lie, memories of making out with the woman fleeted by in his mind. He quickly pushed them away, the guilt barely lingering. Kuroo notices he’s better at doing that.  

“you’re the only one for me” He said pulling you into a hug, his words trying to convince himself more than you. Tired of fighting, you chose to believe him, after all who would you believe, your boyfriend of five years or a 10 second video? 

The turn of the knob brought you back to reality. You smiled at the thought of his surprised face when he comes home to you later. You quickly changed into one of his spare t-shirts and settled down in his bed. “12:30 am” your phone read before you drifted off to sleep. 

♫ No, I don't wanna know Where you been or where you're goin' But I know I won't be home And you'll be on your own ♫ 

The soft light of sunrise woke you up earlier than your alarm. Your body feeling unexpectedly light as you turn to face the empty space. You thought you would wake up to a Kuroo cuddling you. 

“6:27 am” and no notifications on your phone. You got up, unable to sleep anymore, anger and frustration bubbling at the lack of communication from your boyfriend. 

You look in his fridge, empty except for some leftover boxes. Despite your feelings of anger towards Kuroo, you made a mental note to bring over some groceries next time. You decided to make some tea, mindlessly scrolling through the news. 

A sudden click of the door got you looking up from your phone to see two figures, one unfamiliar, the other as familiar as the back of your hand. 

“You know we could just stay at my place. Why’d you have to insist on this weird coffee?” 

You knew exactly what coffee the female voice was referring to. It was the same one you got him from Vienna that time you studied abroad and he’s been hooked on Viennese coffee ever since. 

You heard his voice, “once you taste it, you won’t ever be able to go back I’m telling you”. 

“where’d you get it from?” 

The two figures stepped into the living room just as Kuroo answered, “oh, just from a frie...” he trailed off as you entered into his field of vision. 

The colors draining from his face, the same look of shock mirrored on your features. 

The woman came into view a second after, confused, “wait, who’s this?” 

The look on both of your faces and the tension in the air got her scrambling to the door embarrassed, mumbling a quick apology on her way out. 

Smart woman, you thought. 

You looked at each other in silence. You took him all in. The ruffled hair, the faint hickey on the side of his jaw, the same black button-ups he wore to the club yesterday. 

Kuroo did the same. You standing across the room, dwarfed in a shirt he bought at nationals, a thousand hurts and emotions in your big tired eyes. 

You broke the silence first, too shocked and hurt to even register what had happened five minutes again. 

“I’m leaving.” 

“Y/N wait...” he reached for your hand and pulled you close. You recoiled as soon as you smelled the cheap perfume intertwined with the same whiskey he’s taken a like to after high school. 

“please I can explain.” He search your eyes desperately. 

You shook his hands off yours and quickly gathered your stuff. 

“I’m leaving...”

He cut you off before you could finish, “yeah I heard the first time, please just give me a chance to explain.” 

“you.” 

The shook on his face made it hard to look at him. You cleared your throat. 

“I’m leaving you”. 

You rushed past him, but not before he caught the glimpse of tears running down your cheeks. 

You realized Kuroo was like a bad shot of whiskey, burning, yet all signs of the sweet aftertaste disappearing. 

#haikyuu!! #hqradiostation #haikyuu imagines #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #hq imagines #hq scenarios #ceci.writes #ceci.series

[e-milieeee]

the enemy of my enemy (must be my ally)

Summary: When one of his akumas attacks Adrien and one of his classmates, Gabriel Agreste discovers that Marinette Dupain-Cheng would prove a very useful ally against Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

How had he not discovered sooner? But oh well—better late than never. Ladybug will never know what’s coming. 

Notes: from this post because everyone wanted me to write it. i warned y’all. feat. gabriel’s 2 functional brain cells. 

AO3 | Kofi

Gabriel Agreste isn’t past admitting his mistakes.

Most of them have involved Adrien, so he supposes that it’s time to pay attention to the trend. And all of those mistakes have involved his growing career as Hawkmoth—and, more specifically, the choices he makes for whom he akumatizes.

Lila Rossi, now known as Princess Perfect—seriously, what the hell was wrong with this girl? He’d given her the liberty of choosing her akuma name, but such a godawful name is a bad reflection on him as well—kicks down the door of the classroom.

He sees it all through Lila’s eyes, like he does with all the akumas. Doesn’t mean he’s particularly happy about the turnout of this particular akumatization.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel demands to her. “I want Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous! You’re going the wrong way.”

Relax. Lila’s voice drifts into his head. I need to take a little detour.

“What detour—” Oh. Oh, shit.

In the classroom, packing their bags, is his son and that Chinese girl with pigtails—Marinette. The one that Gabriel knows Lila Rossi intensely hates. The one that he doesn’t like either, because for some reason, his son is infatuated with her. It’s Marinette-this, Marinette-that these days, and Adrien just won’t stop gushing about her. Father, look at these designs! They’re Marinette’s. Father, look who’s on the news—it’s Marinette! Father, can you hire Marinette to work at Gabriel Brand?

Marinette, a real headache. Gabriel rubs his temples. Maybe it’s a good thing that Lila’s after her. Better to nip it in the bud before Adrien’s attachment becomes a real problem.

“Fine,” he grounds out to Lila. “But leave Ad—leave the blonde boy alone.”

Already ahead of you, Hawkie.

“Don’t call me that!”

She ignores him in favour of turning to the two victims. Adrien is standing in front of Marinette, arms spread in a protective stance, glaring at the akuma. For a couple moments, nobody speaks.

Then, Marinette, eyebrows furrowing, says, “You’re Lila, aren’t you. Seriously? What is this—your third akumatization? Fourth?”

“My name is Princess Perfect now,” Lila growls back. “Get out of my way, Adrien.”

Marinette literally gags. “Did Hawkmoth choose that name for you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Gabriel seethes. Unfortunately, none of them can hear him.

“Yes, he did,” Lila lies breezily. “But that’s not important. You think you’re such a hot shot, Marinette? You think you can take the spotlight from me without repercussions? I’m going to make sure everyone hates you and loves me, and you’ll learn your lesson for trying to cross me. After all, who can say no to Princess Perfect?”

Gabriel sighs through his nose. Are all teens this dramatic?

Apparently, they are. Betrayal comes from those closest to home, because it’s Adrien that holds up his arms even higher, still staring Lila down. “You’re going to have to go through me if you want to hurt her,” he promises. “Marinette, get out of here! Run!”

Oh, for heaven’s sake—

Two things happen at once. Lila darts towards them, her whip lashing out directly at Adrien. Gabriel swears under his breath—why isn’t Adrien moving out of the way? Why is he so intent on protecting that useless girl? “Lila!” he barks through the bond, but the akumatized girl is too far gone. “Touch him and I’ll make sure—”

Gabriel trails into dumbfounded silence when Marinette shoves Adrien aside, grabs the end of Lila’s whip, and tugs the weapon straight out of the girl’s hands.

“You’ve gone too far,” she growls in a tone so chilly that it even reaches him. “Adrien, get out of here! I can handle her.”

Lila’s own shock lasts for a couple of times before she regains some of her composure. “You?” she sneers. “Handle me? Why, you pathetic—”

Adrien chucks a pencil case at Lila. It hits her cheek, and she whirls on him, enraged. At the same time, Marinette darts away from the window and slides behind the large wooden desk at the front. Gabriel, still watching the scene unfold, scoffs. So for all her big talk, she’s still nothing but a coward.

“Stand down,” he commands Lila once more. “Don’t you dare touch Adrien—what the hell?”

Lila seems to have noticed the source of his bewilderment as well, but it’s far too late. From underneath the desk, Marinette has lifted the thing—the giant, wooden desk—onto her shoulders.

Gabriel’s positive he stops breathing.

“Wait—” Lila begins. He sees it all through her eyes: Marinette braces herself for a moment and then throws it—throws the desk that a grown man shouldn’t be able to lift—right at Lila.

She doesn’t stand a chance. Lila goes down in a crash, pinned under the weight of Ms. Bustier’s desk that this small, petite girl had somehow bench-pressed and then chucked.

As much as Lila struggles, she is unable to remove the desk from on top of her. Given that his akumas have enhanced strength and she’s still incapable of lifting it, just how strong is Marinette?

Said girl in question stalks over to Lila. She plants a foot firmly against the overturned side of the desk and looks down at the girl trapped underneath.

Gabriel is certain that somehow, impossible as it sounds, Marinette is staring right through Lila’s eyes, through their connection, and into his own. His body freezes. His jaw locks. And for the first time in a very, very long time, Gabriel Agreste is absolutely terrified.

“Next time you try something like this,” Marinette growls, leaning in, “I won’t let you off so easily.”

With that ominous note, she snatches the necklace off Lila’s neck and marches right out of the classroom.

Gabriel remains frozen for a couple more moments. He isn’t certain if he still remembers how to breathe.

It wasn’t Ladybug nor Chat Noir that had foiled this plan. No, it was Adrien Agreste’s classmate, a girl who had previously annoyed him, that had single handedly defeated an akuma and scared him absolutely shitless.

What. The. Fuck.

***

“Adrien,” Gabriel says over dinner. “You know that girl you always talk about? Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

His son looks up from his meal with a bright look on his face. Once upon a time, Gabriel would’ve been annoyed. Now, after reevaluating the girl, he comes to the conclusion that it’s best Adrien stays on Marinette’s good side. She’s probably more than capable of beating his son up.

“Yeah, Marinette?” Adrien echoes. “You know how there was an akuma attack today? Well, Marinette was actually there in the classroom with me when the akuma came for us.”

Gabriel is forced to play ignorant. “Oh? What happened?”

“Well, the akuma tried to attack us, and Marinette picked up a desk—you might find it hard to believe, and honestly I would’ve too if I hadn’t seen her do it—and threw it at the akuma. When Ladybug and Chat Noir finally showed up, there wasn’t even anything for them to do.”

Gabriel shifts in his seat. “That is… rather unbelievable."

Except he swears he can still feel the heat of Marinette’s glare, and is forced to accept that this is the reality he’s living in.

“Why did you ask about her, though, father?”

He snaps back into the present. “Huh?”

“Marinette—why did you ask about her? Wait, father, are you reconsidering hiring her? Did you finally look at the designs I sent you? This is amazing. I’m sure she’ll do amazing. Your stocks will rise. You’ll get more customers. Marinette’s basically a walking lucky charm—this will be the best decision you’ve ever made, father. I promise.”

He frowns at Adrien. “Don’t make preposterous suggestions. But yes— I am considering giving Marinette Dupain-Cheng a job at the company, perhaps an internship one of the senior designers. She’s very… talented.”

He thinks of the way she’d lifted the desk and flung it at Lila. Talented, indeed.

Perhaps talented enough to finally give him an edge against Ladybug and Chat Noir.

***

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than eager to come in for a so-called interview. Nathalie has done her digging on the girl: she’s made it pretty big quite a couple times already, in the fashion industry and has quite a few connections. Even if Gabriel’s motivations aren’t technically for the company, he has to admit that she has much future potential to tap into in the future. But for now, that’s not his goal.

She’s impeccably dressed when Nathalie leads her inside his study. Her eyes are positively shining when she beams at Gabriel. “Mr. Agreste!” Marinette chirps. “I’m so happy to be here. When Adrien told me you wanted to interview me for the job…this is such an amazing opportunity to be presented with, and I am so honoured.”

Gabriel exchanges a glance with Nathalie. She nods subtly.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” He rises from his desk and holds out his hand for her to shake. She does so.

It takes all of Gabriel’s self-control not to show the pain on his face when she grips his hand.

How the fuck is this girl so strong?

Thankfully, Marinette doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong. Gabriel draws back his hand and tucks it behind his back. It’s throbbing.

“So, Marinette.” He sits back down at his desk. Marinette is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. If she were any normal person, Gabriel might’ve snapped at her to settle down, but after that show with Lila yesterday, he decides that it’s for his own good not to get on her bad side. He’ll just have to channel all his patience—for self-preservation, really. “I understand that you’re interested in interning at my company?”

She nods excitedly. “I’ve been designing for years, Mr. Agreste—I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on—”

“What I have in mind for you—” Gabriel pauses, realizing that he’d interrupted her. Hurriedly, he gulps. “Never mind. Continue.”

“I’m aware that I have a lot to improve on but I’m a very quick learner! I promise I’ll do my very best to help you and your company.”

He nods. “That’s good to hear. For now, I’ll… I’ll arrange with Nathalie what we can assign you to do in the company. And I have another favour to ask of you, if it’s not too much.”

Marinette smiles. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to help you!”

Nathalie had warned him to be careful with Marinette—one wrong move and he could be ousted as Hawkmoth. He takes a deep breath. “I have become aware that there are some bad influences around my son in school. You are friends with Adrien, yes?”

“Yes, and… bad influences?” Marinette frowns, shifting her weight. “Oh, yeah, there’s one in particular. Actually, I’m not sure if you’re aware, Mr. Agreste, but I’m glad you brought it up. You know that akuma yesterday? That girl’s name was Lila Rossi. She’s been hanging around Adrien quite a bit these days, and ‘bad influence’ barely covers what she does. And—oh! When I confronted her once about making Adrien uncomfortable, she told me she had a ‘friend in a high place’ that was backing her up. I think you might want to look into that too, Mr. Agreste. It was pretty worrisome, to be honest.”

Gabriel’s mouth has gone dry. “I… yes. Yes, I shall look into that too.”

Marinette rolls her shoulders. “God, if I knew who they were, I’d throw them into the Seine. How dare they.” Then her eyes widen. “Sorry, Mr. Agreste! I was just… um, I was just talking to myself. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Gabriel reassures immediately, although it doesn’t do much to ease the chill that is travelling up his spine. “Then it’s decided? Nathalie will give you her contact information—you can send her your resume just for formalities, and she will organize the rest. And… be sure to keep an eye on my son at school.”

“I will!” Marinette chirps, ever so chipper. Behind that attitude lies the strength to lift the desk he’s currently sitting and crush him. And much, much more.

Nathalie guides the girl away. Gabriel is unable to breathe fully until she leaves.

He has to calculate this well, because he can’t afford to lose a potential ally like Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He’s already thinking—perhaps she would do well with the Peacock Miraculous, or the Bee Miraculous, if he can get his hands on it again. If—if he can somehow convince Marinette to help him with his cause, all of his other plans don’t even need to go into action. Ladybug and Chat Noir will never see this coming.

Nathalie returns. “Sir, your face is rather pale,” she notes. “But may I ask what that was about? You were… unusually lenient today.”

Gabriel clears his throat and straightens in his seat. “Never mind me,” he dismisses. “But first, I need to contact Lila Rossi as soon as possible to cut off all ties. Let her know she’s fired.”

“Is this because…?”

He allows himself a small smile. “You’ll see soon, Nathalie,” he reassures. “We’ve finally got the upperhand in this fight.”

Notes: i lost brain cells writing it, and i’m sure y’all have lost brain cells reading it. 

Fics masterlist here! 

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #bamf marinette #gabriel is TERRIFIED of marinette #as he should be #crack #humour #yall asked for this its not my fault #ml #mlb fic #my writing #that being said if you tag this gabrinette i will hunt you down

[zv5x]

Random Yan!Spirit fic that absolutely nobody asked for, because I'm a degenerate simp lol

Yandere!Spirit, here we gooo (thorns plays faintly in background)

Also this fic is centered around an escape attempt after multiple other escape attempts, i might make a fic of the very first Yan!Spirit escape attempt if in the mood for some good old yandere angst hahah ^^

Also this might be really bad and if so I'm so sorry, my next Yan!Spirit will be so much better, I promise I didn't rush this ahh,

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Today would be the day you escaped this literal hell. You finally had your opportunity to escape, and you were going to snatch it without hesitation. Your heart beat fast as you made your way across the floor, being as careful as you possibly can as to not make any noise. However, you were just about to reach for the doorknob as you heard the sounds of a cutesy yawn and a sound of the floor being stepped on from the bed. You froze, and listened helplessly as you were probably being stared down in disbelief and rage.

"Dear, what are you doing?"

The voice sounded tired, especially considering it was the voice of someone who had just woken up from tonight's rest, but not too tired to where you had as much as a sliver of a chance of continuing what you were planning on doing. You couldn't bare turn around and look the source of the voice in the eyes, your current captor and current "partner". In a last ditch effort, your hand rushed towards the room's doorknob, only for you to quickly feel your wrist being quickly grabbed with an almost painful tightness. Your head whipped around, and tears stung your eyes.

"Spirit, I...I..." Your voice was hoarse and weak, and it almost hurt to speak. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was far from pleased, and you were able to rationalize that trying and defending such a betrayal of his trust was far from what he wanted from you.

Spirit clicked the roof of his mouth, shaking his head in disappointment. "Trying to escape again? Whatever am I going to do with you (Y/N), hm?" He asked, his voice calm and smooth, so calm it was like he wasn't holding your wrist in a death grip at the moment. You whimpered, trembling under his touch. He was far more powerful than you, considering you were just a mere human, and you wondered what even made you want to try something like this in the first place, especially without planning. He was a demon, and he didn't need to sleep, he was only sleeping since he finally gave you the privilege of sleeping upstairs. He could wake up anytime he pleased, he didn't need rest. You internally swore to yourself as Spirit kept a firm hold on you, keeping you from moving too much. "You just never learn, do you?"

"Let me go, Spirit."

You said under your breath, almost as if you were warning him. Staring him down, you watched as he stood shocked and silent before he burst out laughing, letting go of your wrist in favor of covering his mouth as he giggled. It took him a few seconds to pull himself together, and in those few seconds your pride was completely demolished.

Well, on the bright side (Y/N), at least he let go of your wrist.

Spirit wiped a tear from his eye before placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you dead in the eyes. "(Y/N), love, do you remember what happened the last time you went against me?" He hummed, stroking your cheek after releasing one of your shoulders. "Do you remember what I did?" Spirit asked, and you shivered as you recalled the exact "punishment" he was referring to. Your legs had *just* healed from Spirit using his abilities to snap them within a second, and you had *just* regained your ability to walk.

Spirit wiped a tear from his eye before placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you dead in the eyes. "(Y/N), love, do you remember what happened the last time you went against me?" He hummed, stroking your cheek after releasing one of your shoulders. "Do you remember what I did?" Spirit asked, and you shivered as you recalled the exact "punishment" he was referring to. Your legs had *just* healed from Spirit using his abilities to snap them within a second, and you had *just* regained your ability to walk.

"Maybe I should just get that leash I promised. You'd probably be much better behaved with it." Spirit traced a finger on your bottom lip, ignoring your protestant whining. "It'd keep you in your place, you know? You're just a human after all, it's about time you realize that."

Spirit stayed silent for a second, before shaking his head. "No matter, we have more important things to be worrying about now, don't we? We'll discuss your punishment tomorrow." He hummed happily and took your hand in his, using his free one to point to the bed. You didn't need him to say anything, and couldn't help but sigh as you did exactly what you knew he wanted you to do.

After getting you in the bed again, Spirit made it a point to hold you in place. His arms and legs were wrapped around you, and his tail curled around your thigh, rendering you absolutely unable to escape from him for a second time tonight. Not that you had any fight left in you for now, considering being laughed at was most definitely a harsh hit to the pride.

You almost couldn't hold back a sniffle as Spirit gently nuzzled you, that sickeningly sweet sound of cat-like purring becoming audible to your ears as he continued rubbing his head against your chest and neck.

Spirit took a few second break from his purring, to whisper out a reminder of how much he loved you, before returning right back to his sick little cuddle fest. Of course, you said it back, and almost fell ill as you heard him giggle happily and felt him peck you on the cheek.

He was sick, this entire situation was sick, but perhaps in a way, you were too. His body was warm, and the air felt heavy, but still, even with his total lack of care for your individually or privacy and his complete disregard for your personal space, you felt comfortable with him snuggling against you like some kind of cat.

Maybe it was the despair and the Stockholm Syndrome finally settling in, or maybe you'd have that fighting spirit back in you by the morning. But now, all you could think about was how peaceful and happy he looked being so close to you. How cute he looked while he purred and drifted off to sleep with his head against your chest.

You were taught from a young age that demons couldn't love. They were cold, calculating and evil. You held those beliefs to heart, and held Spirit to those biblical standards as well. But, perhaps, you misunderstood him. Maybe he was different. Maybe in a way, the violence and the murder, was just how he showed his love. Maybe you could fix him. Show him the error in his ways and persue a genuine and healthy relationship with him.

You hummed and kissed the top of his head, earning a sleepy squeak in response.

You'd worry about all that in the morning. You were too tired to let yourself trail off any longer.

#spirit fnf x reader #yandere spirit #friday night funkin spirit #spirit x reader #spirit friday night funkin #spirit fnf #fnf spirit #male yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere friday night funkin #yandere fnf #oneshot #friday night funkin oneshot #fnf oneshot #scenarios #yandere x reader #fnf x reader #x reader #friday night funkin x reader #friday night funkin imagine #friday night funkin imagines #fnf imagines #imagine #imagines

[the-bau-quinjet]

I watched it begin again

Chapter 4 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Reader runs into Spencer again a few weeks later!

Warnings: none

Word Count: ~1800

It was a few weeks later before you ran into Spencer again, literally. You stopped at the grocery store on your way home to pick up some snacks for the binge-watching you were planning for your evening. As you placed the third dessert item in your cart, you turned the corner and ran straight into something- no, someone. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed as you reached for the popcorn you had knocked out of his hands. “Let me get that for you.” As you stood back up, something about the scuff marks on this man’s converse reminded you of someone.

“Hi Y/N.” You finally manage to compose yourself and hand him the popcorn before stuttering out a greeting in return. Spencer glances at your cart before asking, “planning a party?”

  “What? Oh! No, I just had a kind of long day and I wanted to go home and hide from the world while indulging in some sugary treats.” A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you realize you just admitted the multitude of foods in your cart are in fact all for you. “I couldn’t decide what to get, so I figured a little bit of everything would solve the problem.” You laughed awkwardly as you try to explain your cart. It looks as though a three year old had free rein.

  “Trust me, I understand.” Spencer laughed with you. “I always have something sweet nearby. I am definitely known to have a sweet tooth.”

  “Oh, well would you care to join me?” You instantly froze when you realized what you said. You aren’t normally so forward. “I could use a friend.” You add on in hopes of diffusing the growing tension.

  “Um, yeah I’ll, uh, I’ll join you.” Spencer is rubbing the back of his neck as you begin walking through the store.

  “Great! You can pick the ice cream flavor!” You turned and started walking before you could come up with something even more awkward to say.

  You pick out a few more sweet treats before paying for your groceries and heading to your car. Spencer says he will meet you at your place after he helps you load the groceries into the trunk.

15 minutes later, you’ve returned home and put the groceries that need to be kept cold away. You move everything else to the coffee table so you and Spencer can reach whatever you want easily.

  You are reaching up to get some bowls for the ice cream when you hear a knock on your door. You glance through the peephole just to make sure it is Spencer before swinging the door open with a grin. “Welcome to the sweetest apartment in the building!” The two of you laugh as you close and lock the door.

  “Do you want to watch a movie or something?” You aren’t sure what to say now that he’s actually in your apartment. You don’t have the same barriers you had last time. You are both perfectly sober and neither one of you just went through a massive breakup. “Yeah, sure”

  “Got any preference?” You ask as you look through the available movies on Netflix and Hulu. “Oh, uh, no you can pick.” Great, you hate making decisions.

  After a slightly awkward few minutes filled with overanalyzing your movie choices, you finally decide on Mr. and Mrs. Smith because it had a bit of a comedy, action, and romance. “Well, dig in!” You don’t know how else to start the conversation as you rip open a zebra cake, offering Spencer the second one in the bag. He smiles at you as he takes it, easing the tension in the room.

  You fall into a comfortable silence as you both watch the movie. You find yourself sneaking glances at Spencer whenever you really want to see his reaction to a certain scene. You can’t really tell if he’s enjoying it, but he has laughed a few times.

  A half hour into the movie, you decide you want some ice cream. “I’m going to go change and grab some ice cream. Want any?”

  “Oh, yes please” Spencer sounds slightly surprised at your sudden question, but you just walk into your room to find some pajamas. You slip on some shorts and a t-shirt pulling on a pair of fluffy socks as you make your way back into the kitchen to get the ice cream. You decide just to bring the two bowls, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and sprinkles with you so Spencer can add his own toppings.

  You somehow manage to balance everything as you walk back over to the couch. You are so focused on not dropping the sprinkles that you don’t notice Spencer has been staring at you since you exited your room. He blinks a few times as you set down the toppings exclaiming “it’s a build your own Sunday bar” as you hand him a bowl and a spoon. You sit back down on the couch, closer than before since you need to reach the toppings.

  “Can you pass me the whipped cream?” Butterflies form in your stomach as your hand brushes his.

  “Whipped cream as we know it today was invented by Charles Getz in the 1930s. Of course, hand whipped cream can be dated back to the 16th century. They would use tree or bush branches as a whisk to incorporate air into the cream.” You could listen to Spencer ramble for the rest of your life.

  You smile at him while you squirt enough whipped cream to completely cover the ice cream and then some. You look up to see Spencer staring. Quickly, you look away and hand him the whipped cream. “Sorry, I just really like whipped cream.”

  “No, you don’t need to apologize! I’m just happy.” A confused look forms on your face as you look back, urging him to continue. “I, uh, I’m just glad you feel comfortable enough to be yourself with me. Most people wouldn’t have even admitted this was their plan for the night. I’m happy that you invited me to join you. I absolutely love sugar.”

  “I’m happy that you’re here too. Who else would provide me with unending knowledge about all the sugary treats?” You laugh as you grab the whipped cream, pointing it at him like a weapon. “Now, tell me who invented chocolate or prepare for the consequences!”

  Spencer puts his hands up in mock surrender as he rambles on about chocolate. “Chocolate dates back to 450 B.C.. The Aztecs believed that cacao seeds were the gift of Quetzalcoatl, the god of wisdom, and the seeds once had so much value that they were used as a form of currency. Originally prepared only as a drink, chocolate was served as a bitter liquid, mixed with spices or corn puree. It was believed to be an aphrodisiac and to give the drinker strength. Today, such drinks are also known as "Chilate" and are made by locals in the South of Mexico. After its arrival to Europe in the sixteenth century, sugar was added and it became popular throughout society, first among the ruling classes and then among the common people. In the 20th century, chocolate was considered essential in the rations of United States soldiers during war.” He finished his ramble with a slight smile and a nod.

  You are so taken with his ramblings that you can’t form a response. In a panic, you decide to spray him anyway. Whipped cream goes flying all over the place as he flails in surprise. “Gotcha!” You shriek as he grabs the can and turns it on you. “Not fair, I answered your question! Now you have to answer mine.” He stops to think for a second before asking, “What language is the word dessert derived from?”

  “Now that’s not fair! You are a literal genius. I run a book store.” Spencer laughs at your feeble attempt to protest. “Just answer the question.”

  “Fine, ummmm, Latin?” You are completely guessing and by the smirk growing on his face, you are not correct.

  “Nope.” He says popping the p. “French!” You grins even wider as he sprays the whipped cream, landing some on your face despite you trying to block it with your hands.

  “Damn, I guess this is only fair.” You say rolling your eyes. He just stares at you in response, his mouth falling open just enough to be noticeable. Right as you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, he reaches over and brushes the whipped cream off your face. Before he can reach a napkin, you grab his hand. Pulling it toward you, you wrap your mouth around his fingers, licking all the whipped cream.

You have no idea what possessed you to do that, but instantly you are trying to back track. “Can’t waste any whipped cream!” The two of you had gotten much closer together throughout your whipped cream battle. Close enough that you can look into his warm hazel eyes. 

He leans closer whispering “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Something in his voice spurs you on. You whisper back “you have some on your nose.”

  Leaning impossibly closer, in an uncharacteristic show of bravery he replies “you better take care of that seeing as it’s your fault” in an equally hushed tone. 

You reach up and steady his face with your hands, leaning in to lick the whipped cream off his nose with a slight kiss. Your face flushes as you look into his eyes. You don’t know if you’re moving or he is but you are shifting closer and closer.  

  The sound of explosions break the moment as you both jump back and shift your gaze to the television. “You know, neither one of these two would make a good profiler if they couldn’t tell that their spouse was an assassin.” You laugh at how matter-of-fact that statement was, the moment on the couch drifting to the back of your mind.

  “You’re probably right.” You don’t know what to do with your hands anymore, so you pick up your ice cream. He pulls you back onto the couch and the two of you lean into each other as you eat and finish the movie.

  Two hours later, the two of you are falling asleep on the couch. After the movie ended, you put on random episodes of Parks and Rec. You finished eating and turned off the lights about 45 minutes ago under the ruse that you can see the tv better without the lights. You’ve been talking to each other pretty much nonstop as the episodes play in the background. Nothing too big, just random information about your lives. Your eyes fall shut, yet again, encouraging you to go to bed, but you don’t want the night to end. He seems to feel the same way, and the two of you fall asleep on the couch wrapped up in each other’s arms.

 tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

[itsallyscorner]

so, I was watching the video that came out today and I was thinking about a age gap seb x reader around his friends like Jessica or maybe chace? And they're just hanging out and they both have this lovesick look on their faces and when she leaves the room for some reason they don't waste any time addressing how in love she is with him, and sebs glad bc they were kinda wary of her at first?

Hiyaaa babes! This is my first request so woohoo🥳 Since you mentioned the video, I literally thought of the pictures that were released while they were filming 355, and now I can’t get the image of Seb in Paris because holy shit he looked good. So I’m gonna be using Jessica❤️

- This came out so long, I’m a sucker for background info and can’t get past writing a story without one💀 Enjoy!💜

💌.

Lovesick

You and Sebastian were unexpected. Literally the chances of you guys getting together were so off and you guys were at different times of your lives. He was in his late 30s, already living most of his life as a successful actor. While you were in your early 20s still in college working on your doctoral degree to become a Pharmacist (It was the only major I could think of atm because it’s the one I’m planing on lol.) You guys met at the cafe near your campus. You always went there every morning and would spot him drinking his morning coffee with his nose stuck in a new script he was reading. You two would sneak glances at each other, admiring each other from afar. Until one day when the cafe was fairly packed and you needed a place to sit. You spotted his familiar face and asked him if you could sit in the seat across from him. Obviously he agreed and you guys talked, getting to know each other the whole time. When it was time for you to leave for classes, you guys exchanged numbers and kept in touch.

Which brings us to today. You and Sebastian have been going strong for about a year now and were approaching your second year together. Though you two are as happy as can be and are still in the honeymoon phase (even after a year), the first few months of the relationship were quite rough. There was an obvious age gap between you two, it didn’t bother you two as much, but the public didn’t react too nicely about it. Your parents weren’t too fond of the idea of you dating an older man, but after getting to know him they knew his intentions with you were well. Same goes for your friends and family. When it came to his fans and the media finding about your relationship, that’s when it went to shit.

The media made Sebastian look like some creep who was going through a midlife crisis for dating someone much younger than him. A few “fans” even claimed that he were a “groomer” after pictures of you and him heavily making out on the street were released. These issues caused some bumps in the road for your relationship, though after many arguments, you two realized that the only opinions that mattered were each other’s.

Now you two were staying at a hotel in Paris. Sebastian was currently working on a big project, “The 355”, something he was very excited about. This was one of the first projects that he was really involved in, from script to screen, he played a pretty big role in this project.

You were typing up a report for your class when Sebastian entered the hotel room. He was still in his set clothes, a light blue shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of Chelsea boots. He approached the bed where you were typing and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Hey sweetheart, how’s school going?” He greeted you as he settled himself on the bed, laying on his side.

“Meh, it’s going...but I finished my report on time. Now I just need to proofread it.” You smiled as you finished typing the last sentence of your report. When Sebastian discovered he was going to film in Paris, he immediately told you, knowing you’ve been dreaming of visiting Paris. Luckily for the both of you, your school allowed you to do online learning (it probably doesn’t work like that but just go with it) and you were able to tag along with him.

“I’m sure it’s prefect, you’re a great writer.” He complimented, you hummed in response. Turning to him you run your hand through his short hair making him lean into your touch. You loved his fluffy hair but the short hair was starting to grow on you.

Sebastian turned his head and pressed a kiss into your palm, stormy eyes gazing up at you.

“How has your day been?” You asked.

“It was good. We got through a good amount of scenes without messing up, so I’d say it was a successful day.” He answered. You smiled at his enthusiasm. Sebastian’s face always lit up when he was talking about a project and it was one of the things you admired most about him, his passion for his work.

“So, you’ve been cooped up in this damn hotel all day. Why don’t you come to dinner with me and the cast tonight? You’ve been waiting to visit Paris all your life and you haven’t even been outside this hotel for days.” He suggested. It was true, you haven’t done much but do school work, order room service, and binge watch shows on Netflix.

“Are you sure they’d want me to come? I might be intruding.” Honestly you were nervous to meet the rest of the cast. You’ve met Jessica a few times but they were brief and she seemed like she didn’t like you. Though that could just be your thoughts making you paranoid, you were still nervous to meet the people Seb worked with. You didn’t want them to think you were using him for money or to travel around the world because you weren’t. You loved Sebastian for himself, not the money and the fame, you could care less about all that.

But they were still Sebastian’s friends and you wanted to have a good first impression on them. You didn’t want them to think you were just some immature college girl who needed money to pay off her college funds.

Noticing you were drifting off, Sebastian pressed another kiss into your palm and grasps it. “You wouldn’t be intruding, Jessica actually suggested you come along.” He mentioned.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, baby. Come on, let’s put this stuff away and get ready. We’re having dinner at the Eiffel Tower.”

“I— the Eiffel Tower?”

•

To say you were intimidated and scared shitless was an understatement. Here you were in the Eiffel Tower having dinner with some of the most talented women in Hollywood. Like seriously Jessica Chastain, Lupita Nyong’o, Penélope Cruz, and Diane Kruger. Of course Seb and Édgar Ramírez where there as well. Then there was you, NYC local college student. You didn’t wanna say you felt out of place, but you did. These were successful people who probably starred in some of the movies you watched growing up. Now you’re literally in the Eiffel fucking Tower having dinner with them.

Dinner was going smoothly, everyone was talking about the set, shared some funny stories, and you were keeping to yourself simply eating your steak. That was until the attention was brought to you.

“So (y/n), Sebastian mentioned you were in college, what are you studying?” Jessica asked. Everyone turned to you and you swear you felt like a deer in headlights. Seb nudged your thigh with his, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Yes I am! I’m actually taking a PharmD program at St. John Fisher to become a Pharmacist.” you answered.

“For your masters?” She followed up curiously, slightly leaning forward to you.

“No, for my doctoral degree.” You corrected her proudly. You didn’t want to come off as an ass, but you were proud of your work and you worked your ass off for it.

Everyone at the table was taken back by your response. Except Sebastian, who had a just as proud smile on his face. They knew you were in college but not studying something as serious as Pharmacy.

“St.John Fisher College? I had a cousin that went there, it’s a great college.” Lupita was the first to break the silence.

“So are you working in the field yet? For some experience?” Penélope chimed in. Sebastian snorted, “Oh she has experience, trust me.”

You chuckled as you softly smacked Seb’s bicep, “Well currently, I’m interning as a Pharmacy Tech at a hospital pharmacy. They’re thinking about making me a permanent one until I graduate so fingers crossed!”

As you answered all their questions about your personal life and your major, Sebastian couldn’t help but just admire you. Just like how you admired the way he talked about his projects, he admired the way you got lost in rambling about your soon career. The way your eyes lit up, how your hands moved while you talked, and that hint of a smile on your face. He absolutely adored every single thing about you.

Dinner continued, the last question for you about why you chose to do college in New York, which segwayed into a conversation about— well New York. As the others talked about their love for the city, Sebastian wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Your back was now pressed to his chest, both of you not listening to the conversation. You pressed a kiss to his arm and looked back at him.

“Hey you.” You hummed at him rubbing your thumb along his arm.

“Hi.” He gazed down at you with that smile that made his eyes crinkle. The moment was interrupted by your phone ringing. Quickly glancing at the contact ID, it was the hospital pharmacy you interned for.

“You should take that.” Seb whispered into your ear.

“No, Seb that’s rude. We’re at dinner, I’m sure it can wait.”

“I have a good feeling about this call, draga mea.” He coaxed you. Having a feeling that he might be right you excuse yourself from the table. When you’re gone the table goes quiet.

“Sebastian, you’ve got one hell of a girlfriend.” Penélope stated as the rest of the table agreed.

“She’s so smart! What the hell, a doctoral degree? Kudos to her because the amount of motivation I would need to even try!” Jessica followed up with an amazed look on her face.

“I think you guys are forgetting to mention how whipped they both are for each other! Those two were in their own world over there!” Lupita pointed out. The whole table laughed as Sebastian was turning red. Of course he was whipped, he knew he was.

“I love her guys, she’s, she’s something else. The spunk she has, her intelligence, she’s-,” Sebastian began to list but was cut off by Édgar, “Out of your league?”

The whole table burst into laughter as they agreed with Édgar. You were also coming back to the table after your call. Sebastian spotted you, eyes connecting to yours immediately.

“Everything alright?”

“They gave me the permanent job!”

draga mea - my darling 

#ally’s requests #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan headcanons #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan oneshot #marvel #mcu #avengers #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x reader

[hes-writer]

Trial (4)

Summary: harry and y/n face the truth

Warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff

Word Count: 4249 words

A/N: thank you so much for supporting this series !! @devilinbetweenthesheet-s. I will do the taglist later in the day :)

EDIT: idk why the ‘read more’ is not working. I apologize for the scrolling!!

Part 4 of the Tarnish series!

___

Harry was crying.

Admitting his feelings when he was younger was quite a task for him. Now that he was nearly in his thirties, the journey of being vulnerable with himself and with his feelings became easier with each emotion that he permitted himself to submerge in. Harry validated those emotions--he was allowed to experience them because it makes him human. It added texture to the ever-growing mosaic that painted who he was as an individual. Adding to the people that surrounded him, influenced by their kind-nature and the goodness of their heart to become who he was now.

And now, it seemed like his emotions increased tenfold. The clench of his abdomen and the harsh jolt of his chest forced his slouched shoulder to stay deflated. His breathing hitched as sobs threatened to take over, throat sore with the effort to keep it all in because Harry was smart enough to know that these emotions coursing through him right now were ones he wasn’t validated to feel. Paired with the latest information that that little girl being held by another man was his own daughter--and that the woman who was glowing with her caring, motherly-instincts was supposed to be his family; it broke him completely. 

Quaking thoughts circled his brain and punctured his muscles as if they were attacking him not only mentally, but physically as well in exchange for his past mistakes that he couldn’t quite place if he deeply regretted or not. Was it a mistake to cheat on Y/N? To leave her alone in the exposure of the public eye while she was carrying his child in her tummy? 

Harry should have known the day she fell sick and vomited in their kitchen sink. He was, sadly, too busy throwing a subdued celebration of finally having time alone with Camille. He should have noticed the way her face brightened with radiance. Or the way her cravings for strawberries and pickles either grossed her out or completely compelled her to consume more than she usually would. 

But Harry guessed that that was around the time his efforts went out the window because he didn’t have to pretend to care as much anymore. Camille appeared to be his one and only. With their relationship coming so close to being revealed and Y/N having one foot out the door, Harry let fate play out the rest. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still loved Camille; that was why his slashed heart still throbbed at the sight of her watching over her little cousin, yet knowing that the topic of children was still not a card on the table. 

The distress that he was feeling right now was core-shredding, heartbreaking grief that left a hole in his heart. The worst part was that Harry didn’t exactly know how to fix it or whether he even could. As he walked to his car with hands jammed into his pockets, he was grateful that the hood of his sweater hid his face and the tears sliding down the slope of his cheeks.

His senses were in overdrive, figuring out how to fix the mess he created. Wanting to run up to Y/N and ask her why she didn’t tell him, needing to feel his little girl in his arms. Pinching his skin to transfer the pain he felt in his heart because of the thought that he missed his baby’s first words, her first steps. Was it ‘dada’ that babbled out of her mouth? Did she reach out for Connor when she stumbled over nothing when she walked on stubby legs? Did Y/N mention his name to her?

“Harry!” 

He kept on walking despite the hushed call of his name, assuming that it was a fan that caught sight of him and wanted a picture. Harry adores them, but now is hardly the time to fake a smile or act like his life didn’t just flash right before his eyes--quite literally. 

The vehicle beeped as Harry pressed the ‘unlock’ button on his key fob, just about ready to pull the door open and shield himself from prying eyes. He flinched when a hand fell on his shoulder, “Harry,” 

He looked up to find Gemma panting, resting her hand on the roof of the car, “Are you. . .alright?” Her drifting eyes inspected his face, tinted a slight pink and moist with the salty liquid dripping from his tear ducts.

Huffing in annoyance, Harry clutched the handle to let himself in. Gemma followed his actions, shutting the door and locking it. The tinted windows of the car provided a semi-private enclosure that was filled with Harry’s sniffling and Gemma’s heavy breathing, trying to catch her breath. 

“H-her name is Halo,” Gemma began, gulping when Harry paused his ministrations, straining his ears to listen despite the dull thud occupying his vessels. “She’s almost two years old,”

“You said you didn’t know,” Harry’s gruff tone echoed. Gemma anxiously rubbed the ends of her palms against her jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew all this time and y’didn’t tell me,”

“I-I was--she didn’t want me--” 

“Why would she tell you and not me? I’m the one that dated her,” He raised his voice with every syllable he spoke. The frustration he felt from seeing the woman he once loved living the reality they shared together, except he wasn’t anywhere in the picture and that reality was only a fantasy in his life now. “It doesn’t make sense,” He rested his forearms on the wheel, facing the car’s symbol.

“The baby is yours, Harry,”

His head quipped with speed, grazing his forehead on the rounded leather but that pain didn’t amount to the new wave washing over him. “W-what?”

“It’s really not my place to tell,” Gemma said nervously, making eye contact with Harry’s searing yet teary gaze. “She wanted to tell you but you were so happy with Camille. She was posting these things on her Instagram about your trips and Y/N called me crying because you looked so free and happy without her. Y/N didn’t want to ruin what you guys had by dropping this on you,”

"That's-that's my baby?" Harry stuttered over his words while tugging his head out of his memories. Gemma nodded in confirmation. “Then why in the world was she--Halo?--calling him ‘dada’? 

“Look, Harry, you’re not stupid. You know why Halo called Connor her dad,” Gemma spoke slowly, “This is a conversation that you need to have with Y/N if she lets you,”

At the mention of the man’s name, Harry couldn’t help but be filled with anger. He barely knew this man yet he received everything that Harry wanted in life. ‘But she’s my kid. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s supposed to give her kisses and make her laugh,” He mumbled quietly as if his inner thoughts were far too strong to be kept in his mind

He was staring mindlessly at the numbers on his dashboard, hands gripping the leather steering wheel to try and ground himself. "But if that's my baby, how can she call someone who's not her father, dad?" He whipped his head towards Gemma, searching for validation that would make him feel better but the siblings were aware that he lost that title three years ago. 

“I think you know you lost that place in their lives,” She reached a comforting hand to pat his arm, feeling just how tense he was under the fabric.

Harry shrugged her off, pinching his brows and pursing his lips as sadness began to swirl down the drain only to be replaced with resentment, irritation and bitterness. The taste on his tongue was hot with anger and his ears felt warm as he wheezed air instead of opting to yell his dissatisfaction near his sister. 

“This isn't fair. She's m’baby too. Connor is not her father,” He spat with venom, “I am,” A pointed finger poked his chest. "She knew she was pregnant when she left me. She’s so fuckin’ selfish. How could she do this to me? 

Gemma was quick to remind him of his actions, "You cheated on her, Harry.” Gemma cowered back at Harry’s beady eyes glaring at her with an unreadable emotion, stone-cold. “Maybe you should go home. Calm down a little bit,”

“No!” Harry cut Gemma off, “Need t’a hear her say it myself,” 

Harry didn’t know what his plan was when he harshly slammed the car door behind him, practically storming on the patches of grass like a mad man. It wasn’t hard to spot the picture-perfect family sitting on a park bench which brought a scowl to his shielded face. He wanted to give Y/N a piece of his mind and it wasn’t necessarily the nicest thoughts that crossed his brain. 

Halo was sitting on Connor’s lap while he was feeding her a peeled cupcake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting—-Harry felt like he was punched in the gut. The baked good was Y/N’s specialty and it had a lot of sentimental value to both of them. It was what she baked for their first year together. He could vividly see her frosting-dotted nose, aiming to splotch the cream on his cheek while she laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around her, hugging Y/N from behind and proceeding to kiss her sweet cheek, leaving the perfect opportunity to stain his skin with the frosting. 

But he didn’t care if he was smashed headfirst into the cake (as long as it wasn’t ice cream cake)—Harry just wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh heartily. 

Y/N was snuggled on Connor’s shoulder, fixing Halo’s hair as she made grabby hands at the confection. He cannot lie--Connor was a handsome man. Harry rarely felt intimidated or insecure, but seeing that this man managed to snatch everything Harry could ever want seemingly in a blink of an eye; Harry felt very jealous. 

He pouted, eyes rimmed red and lips quivering wishing that Cory or Connor--whatever that little shit’s name was would disappear so that Harry could take his place instead. Actually, it was his spot in the first place. Only if he didn’t mess up, he thought. He missed Y/N so much! Seeing Y/N in her element of niceness and bright-gleaming smiles sent a truck full of sand down his throat as he gulped his emotion below the surface. The closer he got to them, his vision tunnelled towards Halo; brown, flouncy curls and a cute dimple embedded in her cheek as she giggled, accidentally knocking the cupcake on the ground.  

If that wasn’t symbolism staring at Harry straight in the face; a sign that their so-called relationship really had no chance of reprieve. Harry chose to ignore it.

Connor clutched Halo tightly against him, crouching down with a napkin to clean up the scattered cake on the ground. Y/N was the first to notice him, her forehead creasing as her eyes bulged at the sight of Harry walking towards them. She subtly poked at Connor’s arm, hurting Harry even more because it meant that Y/N felt uncomfortable with his presence. 

He was close enough to read her pink lips, “We should go,” matched with Y/N’s frantic actions of packing the juice boxes and the Tupperware of cupcakes into the tote bag beside her. Connor searched the park until his gaze landed on Harry, protectively shielding Halo from him. 

Is he serious? Harry thought. That’s my own daughter.

Speaking of Halo, the two-year-old happily continued munching on her new cupcake, frowning slightly when Connor stood up, “Why we leaving, Daddy? Did I do somethin’ bad?”

Y/N sighed, they promised that Halo could play at the park all day and now it was cut short because of a certain someone. 

“No, you didn’t, bub. Let Daddy explain at home, okay baby?” Connor hitched Halo higher on his hip, hoping that she wouldn’t ask any more questions until the trio left.

“Who’s that?” Halo asked, pointing at Harry only metres away from them. Her stubby finger outstretched at the stranger in front of her, eyes bright and sparkling with curiosity. There was no sign of recognition painting her green orbs. 

Harry gulped, wanting so badly to scream “I’m your dad!” but he knew that Y/N will add that to the list of his mistakes he had made. 

“No one, angel,” Connor planted a kiss on her head, looking over at Y/N who had finished packing everything up. He tilted his chin in an attempt to scare Harry off.

But the thing was, Harry was already scared. He could feel his stomach in his throat but vomiting wasn’t the right word to describe it. His heart drooped deeper than the levels of the Earth. He was scared because his family was right in front of him but he couldn’t touch them or hug them in his arms. He was only allowed to look from the outside because there was a small possibility of being forgiven.

“Y/N. . .” Harry began hesitantly. The surge of confidence he had decreased with each passing second. He kept a close eye.

Y/N shrugged the strap on her shoulder, “Leave us alone, Harry.”

He felt his anger disappearing, a new emotion cascading his tear ducts and the blood in his veins. Harry looked back in retrospect; she really did mean it when Y/N said that she never wanted him around again. “I just want to talk. Please, let’s talk,”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Harry,”  Connor interrupted, grabbing the bag from Y/N and wrapping an arm over her shoulder, guiding them away from Harry. “She’s happy without you, mate. can’t you see?”

Harry kept his gaze trained on Y/N’s face, actively avoiding eye contact but drifted when Halo’s frown caught his stare. The little girl’s chin was hooked over Connor’s shoulder, squirming in his arms in an attempt to stop him from walking. Halo was smart enough to know that Harry’s expression screamed sadness and her mummy said that “you need to find a way to make them happy” if someone was sad.

“Wait!” Her shrill yell caused both Connor and Y/N to turn around. A piece of Harry’s heart shattered on the floor when Halo pulled Connor down by the nape of his neck, small hand leading his ear next to her lips. Then, she did the same to Y/N, pointing at Harry which caused him to straighten his stance, wanting to impress his daughter even though there was no point.

The couple shared a look before ultimately having Connor walk closer to Harry. Halo gripped her cupcake towards him, “‘ere y’go hawwy,’ She still couldn’t pronounce her ‘r’s’ yet. 

Harry began to sob. 

It was his daughter and those were the first words she had uttered to him. She didn’t know him yet Halo treated him with kindness and it ripped at his chest because Y/N must’ve taught her that. His palms became wet as tears streamed from his eyes, dampening the sleeves of his hoodie. He didn't care about looking foolish in front of them, not when his daughter saw him as a stranger and called Connor her ‘dada’. 

Halo recoiled at the sudden reaction, her lips curving downwards, “Dada, mama, he’s cwyin’,” She tucked her face at the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck, scared that she made him cry. Halo didn’t mean to make him cry. She felt so guilty that she started spilling tears of her own too, her face contorting into a scrunched expression as her mouth wailed open sobs, matching Harry’s. 

Harry’s first instinct was to take a step forward and comfort Halo but he was rendered frozen when Connor shot him a glare, shifting Halo’s body out of reach and he could only see her face over the man’s shoulder. Y/N dimmed her eyes, brows pinching when she couldn’t help but let a smidge of sympathy wash over her. She muttered a few words to Connor, pushing him by the small of his back towards the parking lot. 

When they were out of earshot, Y/N faced Harry, “What were you thinking? Are you trying to mess everything up again?” He tried to cut in, “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re talking about this in public? Why must you ruin everything, Harry?” She whisper-shouted, trying her best not to garner them any attention. 

“N-no, Gemma told me and I jus’ wanted to see her--and you. Wanted to hear the truth come out of your mouth,” His large hands jammed into his pockets to prevent him from fiddling with them. 

“Look, you have no right coming here,”

“I know that b-but I--,”

She held a palm up, “I’m not sadistic like you Harry. If you thought that I wouldn’t let you around her then you’re wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss you and I wish that you were there for us when we needed you,”

“I had no idea--,”

“Will you let me speak?” Her tone carried irritation. “But we’re alright now and we don’t need you anymore.”

Harry never thought that those statements would ever come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Don’t you think I deserve to get to know her?” 

She sighed, “Deserve? Definitely not.” He nodded in agreement. “But I’d live in regret if Halo never got to know her real father. . .”

Harry’s expression lit up, hopeful eyes shooting glances at her, “D-does that mea--? Are you--?”

“You can see her. You can get to know her but only because you’re Halo’s father,” Y/N took a brave step forward, ignoring the way her heart throbbed as if she was being stabbed by a thousand knives. Painful memories drifted in and out of her train of thought until she shook her head to muster them out. It was in the past but she could never forget the feeling of hopelessness taking over her whole body. 

With a hand on his shoulder, she continued, “Anyone can be a father and you’re just that. Don’t think that you’re entitled to anything more. You will never be her dad. Connor is. Understood?”

Harry took a deep breath and swallowed a heavy gulp, “I. . .understand. Thank you, Y/N. For letting me back in when I don’t deserve it,” He glanced at the two tiny figures piling in the car. He could just imagine himself plucking little Halo into her booster seat, booping her nose as she asked for the hundredth time why she had to sit at the back and not at the front with them. 

“I’m not finished,” She deadpanned, “You are going to be there for her. Not for me, not for us because our relationship is over. You can hurt me as you did before and I can accept it but don’t you dare try to hurt her,” 

And it was true. Having endured his painful game once before, Y/N was stronger now. She could take heartbreak as agonizing as that but she wouldn’t dare stand seeing Halo’s teary eyes staring back at her, asking why Harry had left them. She was far too young to experience the feeling when a piece of herself is ripped apart. 

“I won’t hurt her. I promise,”

“I heard those words come out from your mouth years ago and look where we are now. Once you hurt her, it’s over.”

“Y/N, t-that’s hardly fair. I am her dad, aren’t I?” Harry cleared his throat at Y/N’s raised brow.

“No, you’re not. We just went through this, Harry.”

“Don’t call me that,” He muttered quietly because she only ever called him ‘baby’ or ‘h’.

“Will you stop? I laid out my cards. If you want to even have a speck of presence in her life, then you have to abide by what I said,” She crossed her arms in defence, “You will never be Halo’s dad, Harry. Connor is her dad. I don’t know how many more times I have to repeat this before it gets through you thick head,”

He opened his mouth to talk, “No wiggle room whatsoever?”

“No. Do I have to write a letter for you to understand that?”

In a moment of hurt and despair, Harry spat out, “Might as well, yeah? Waited over two years to tell me anyway,”

“Are you kidding me?”

His throat ran dry, realizing that he just ticked another box to favour against being a part of his daughter’s life, “I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to,”

“Whatever. Are you willing to make the sacrifice?”

“This isn’t the place to talk about this,” Harry suggested, wanting to have some sort of foot on the ground so he doesn’t feel like he’s topping over with guilt and sadness. “Maybe you can come over to my house,”

Y/N shook her head, glancing briefly at her phone when it buzzed, “No. I will not step foot in that house again. If you really want to discuss it, you can come over at our place,”

“Your place?” Did they all live together? Well, that was another slap to the face. Not only was Connor playing dad to Halo, but he was also part of the household. Harry’s face must have contorted into a grimace because Y/N sighed softly. 

“Yes, our place. Meaning all three of us,” She gestured behind her. “I have to go. You can probably get my number from Gemma; you can text me then.”

“Yes, yes! Of course, I want to talk to you. . . about this, I mean,” Harry lowered his enthusiasm. The small voice in his head reverberating that this was not about him and Y/N; this was about Halo. 

“And make sure you don’t bring anyone else,” Y/N said sarcastically, subtly pointing in the direction of the paparazzi hiding behind some bushes. Harry was usually good at spotting them but today was just a puddle of hurt and confusion. “I don’t want her having to read nasty things like I did,”

What Y/N said may have been a side comment, but Harry couldn’t help but take it to heart. Was this a good idea? Sure, he wanted to be a present dad in Halo’s life. However, is it worth it to stir unwanted drama? If only he didn’t cheat on Y/N, all of this could have been avoided. 

With his mind in a haze, Harry barely noticed Y/N’s figure moving away from him. He jogged to catch up with her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry felt numb to the way she shrugged her touch off of her immediately, “Were you ever going to tell me about our daughter?’

Y/N stared at him quizzically, tilting her head a little bit sideways, “I thought I did? Wait!” A look of recognition plastered across her features, “I did try to tell you but you blocked me before the message sent through,”

Harry gulped with realization. He blearily remembered  bitterly blocking her number just as she texted “I need to tell you something,”

___

Y/N: Since you’re not picking up my calls

I need to tell you something

Y/N took a deep breath as her thumbs tapped on the letters slowly as if to withhold the news from him. She was not at all ready to reveal that she was pregnant and that he was the father but Y/N knew that it was the right thing to do. Despite the fact that he was currently out of the country on vacation somewhere on an island with sandy beaches with Camille. Y/N was aware that this spike of courage was rare and so, she had to do it now.

Y/N: I’m pregnant

And you’re the father

She locked the device as soon as she pressed the arrow to send the message, clutching the phone close to her chest and shutting her eyes so tightly that it hurt. Minutes passed with no response and Y/N was shouldered by curiosity to check if he had sent anything back or simply left her on ‘seen’. 

It was neither. The screaming red exclamation mark surrounded by a circle indicated that she had been blocked. 

___

The times when she left missed calls on his phone were for a reason much bigger than the two of them. Y/N didn’t call to beg for him back or to ask Harry to want her again. He was ashamed to admit that he had rolled his eyes upwards every time he clicked on a voicemail she had left, stating, “Hey H, it’s me. Call me back when you hear this. I need to talk to you,” which he deleted without a second thought. She didn’t text him endlessly to politely ask for her things packed and settled for her pick-up because Y/N could not bear to spend another second in a room with him.

It wasn’t that at all. 

Y/N was physically moving farther and farther away from him, settling herself into the car before driving off to hers and Connor’s shared house. Halo sat in the backseat, singing along to the radio.

Harry was surrounded amidst the joyful squeals of children and reprimanding voices of their parents.

He stood alone with no one but loneliness by his side and the brisk flash of cameras in his peripherals.

_____

Let me know what you thought!

———

Permanent Taglist: @splendidsunsetx @swagmoneymaya @textingharry @arypesanchez @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @mellamolayla @luviewoo

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n

[lyricalporcupine]

Talking about how much they love the other to friends/family pls 😊

Here ya go! I did both Yasha and Beau and there is a time skip. I also got carried away with Beau’s part so oops lmao

~~~

“You’re such a fucking sap,” Molly cajoled.

Yasha smirked and shoved her friend, causing him to stumble a bit on the street. He laughed as he regained his balance and turned around to face Yasha, walking backwards without regard to the other people.

“It’s true, darling,” he drawled with his own smirk.

Yasha felt herself flush and knew her face was red to the tips of her pointed ears. “She makes me happy,” Yasha said simply with a shrug and soft smile.

“Ugh,” Molly exclaimed, turning with a flourish that allowed Yasha close the small distance between them to allow them to walk side by side again. “Why?”

Yasha’s soft smile grew. “She’s strong. She’s really funny. She’s smart as hell. She’s honest,” Yasha said with a chuckle, “even if it hurts.”

“She’s an asshole,” Molly countered, to which Yasha laughed.

“I like that she’s an asshole,” Yasha said with a shrug.

Molly smirked at her. “You would.”

Yasha bumped his shoulder and he bumped hers in return.

“Anything else,” Molly asked after a few moments. “What else attracts you to the grumpy one?”

Yasha was silent for a while, hands shoved into her coat pockets. She was quiet for so long that Molly figured she wasn’t going to answer. But then, softly, Yasha said, “She makes me feel safe.”

Molly stared up at his friend. He knew exactly what that meant for her and how important it was. He finally realized that, to Yasha, Beau meant something so precious to her. Something Yasha had been looking for for years that Molly himself had tried to give her. Beau, to Yasha, meant home.

He huffed, his breath drifting up in front of him as steam in the cold air. He linked his arm through Yasha’s and pushed into her side. “You love her.” It wasn’t a question.

Yasha gave a small nod. “So much.”

Molly heaved a dramatic sigh. “Does this mean I can’t tease her anymore,” he asked with a pout.

Yasha chuffed. “She’d probably think you were sick if you didn’t bicker.”

“Well I am all about keeping up appearances,” he said with a self important sniffle.

Yasha laughed outright. “You’re an asshole,”’she said with all the affection she could muster for the tiefling. Which was quite a lot.

“Yes, I am,” he agreed happily. Then he smiled up at her. “But you like assholes. Remember?”

Yasha smirked down at him before kissing him on his horn. “Yes, I do.”

~~~~~~

It was a rare event that Beau visited her parents. She hated doing it, mostly because of her father. But she went, at least once a month, just to see TJ. Beau’s disdain for her parents wasn’t his fault and Beau hoped, that by spending time with him that he wouldn’t pick up their shitty attitude. As the years trudged on, TJ, thankfully, didn’t seem to be anything like their father.

Instead, much to their parents’ chagrin, TJ had instead picked up his sister’s mannerisms, quick wit, and snark. And as a pre-teen, it was only getting worse. Or better, if you asked Beau, who encouraged him.

Despite this, their parents would allow TJ to visit his sister for a week or so, mainly during the summer while school was out. He’d pack a bag and all but run to her car when she showed up and throw himself at her.

Now they sat on the floor of Beau and Yasha’s living room, playing a racing game TJ brought with him. They were neck and neck, tied in their wins. This was the last race and as

Beau was poised for a victory, Yasha walked out of the bedroom and kissed the top of Beau’s head, which caused her to completely forget the game and crash into a wall as she turned her attention to her fiancé.

“I’m meeting Molly,” she said as she checked her purse. Yasha wore a sun dress, something she didn’t often wear, and turned to smile at Beau and TJ when he turned to look at her after crossing the finish line. “I’ll be back later. I was thinking burgers for dinner?”

TJ’s face lit up. “And milkshakes,” he asked hopefully.

Yasha smiled and walked over to ruffle his slightly curly and very shaggy hair. “Only if you let Beau win,” Yasha teased.

“Oh, nevermind then,” he said and turned back to the tv.

“You little asshole,” Beau said with a laugh.

“Beau!”

“What,” Beau asked defensively. “He knows I’m kidding!”

“I know she’s kidding,” TJ echoed.

Yasha sighed and bent to kiss Beau. “Behave,” she said as she headed for the door.

An echo of “No!” followed her out the door.

Beau and TJ smiled at each other as he picked a new game and Beau set her controller aside, content to watch him play.

“Dad says you’re engaged,” TJ said as he got up and shuffled through his games. He looked over at Beau as she relocated to the couch.

“Yuppers,” she replied. “I was gonna talk to you about that, actually.” She smiled at him and asked, “Want to be a ring bearer?”

“I can’t be your best man,” he asked with a grin.

Beau laughed and raised up her arm, flattening her hand, palm down. “Sorry, you gotta be be at least this tall.”

He glared and flipped her off. She only laughed harder which caused him to smile. “Sure, I can be a ring bearer.”

“Excellent,” Beau said. “Yasha will be thrilled I finally asked.”

“When’s the wedding,” he asked as he finished picking a game and came to sit beside his sister, picking up his controller on the way.

“Next fall,” Beau answered. “Yasha likes the colors.”

“Neat,” TJ replied. “You and Yasha have been together a long time.”

Beau chuckled. “You sound like my friends. They think it’s overdue.”

TJ shrugged. “Maybe they’re right.”

Beau shrugged back. “Eh, we got there in the end. All that matters.”

“You inviting Dad,” TJ asked.

“Well if you and Mom are gonna be there, kinda have to invite the old man, too,” Beau said.

“I could accidentally on purpose break his leg so he has to stay home,” TJ offered.

Beau laughed. “Then you and Mom would have to stay home and take care of him.” She gave him a sideways smile. “Thanks for the offer, though, little brother.”

“Anytime,” he said with a laugh. “So, who asked who?”

Beau smiled and flashed her left hand and waggled her fingers until TJ turned to look at the small blue diamond on her ring finger. “She did.”

TJ looked at the ring then up at is sister. “She has poor taste.”

Beau’s mood fell a bit. “Like you’re some ring expert.”

“Not the ring,” he said. “You.”

Beau made a squawking noise and shoved TJ’s shoulder. “Fuck you!”

He laughed as he fell onto his side. “Fuck you, back!” He never paused in his game.

TJ eventually sat back and smiled. “So,how did you know?”

“How did I know what,” Beau asked.

“How did you know she was ‘the one,’” he asked, laying his controller down to air quote.

Beau smirked. “Really want to know? It’s sappy shit.”

TJ shrugged. “I mean. I did ask.”

“Fair.” Beau repositioned herself and draped her leg over the couch arm. “I always thought she was hot, ya know?”

“She is very pretty,” TJ cut in.

Beau smirked. “I’ll be sure to tell her you said that.”

TJ whipped around to face Beau, his dark skin turning darker with a blush. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

Beau laughed and gently nudged him. “Don’t be a shit and maybe I won’t.” TJ pouted at her and Beau laughed harder. “Anyway. She’s always been hot. And she’s sweet as hell. A literal fucking angel, ya know?”

TJ was nodded like he did, in fact, know.

“But there was a moment, so fucking small, that sealed the deal,” Beau said with a dreamy sigh.

“What was it,” TJ asked, finally pausing his game and turned to Beau, wholly focused on her and the story now.

“We’d been dating for a few months,” Beau continued. “And while out doing some errands, we decided, on a whim, to stop at this antiques store. Nothing there caught my eye,” Beau said before quickly standing and heading over to a bookshelf next to the tv. It held books, of course, but also a few knick knacks. Beau reached for a small clay figurine of a dog, one of a set of five, and turned back to TJ.

“She bought this set of dog figures,” Beau said, a dopey grin on her face. “She had been so excited to have found them. As excited as if they’d been real dogs.” Still holding the figure, Beau walked back over to the couch and sat down and handed the dog to TJ to look at. “You don’t really remember, cause you were still pretty little, but Yasha used to be really standoffish. She was quiet and didn’t talk much.” Beau smiled at her brother. “You fell in love with her immediately, nearly forgetting all about me when we came to visit.”

TJ blushed at Beau’s words.

Beau smiled warmly at him. “That was one of the first times she really came out of her shell.” Beau’s eyes slid shut as she recalled the memory, a large grin on her face. “She was so beautiful in that moment.” Beau’s eyes opened but she didn’t seem to really see TJ in front of her, still lost in her memories. Then she blinked and her eyes focused. “It was one of the cutest fucking things I’d ever seen. The way she lit up, little brother. Brighter than the sun.

“That’s when I knew I would spend the rest of my life with her.”

She smiled at her brother, who simply stared back. He finally handed back the clay dog and nodded. “You were right.”

Beau took the figure and cradled it to her chest. “About what?”

“It really was sappy shit.” Then he smiled at her.

Beau launched from her spot and tackled him, lightly pinching his shoulder as she sat on him.

They eventually came apart, laughing and sweaty from their tussle. Beau put the figure back on the shelf, grateful it didn’t break, and sat back on the couch. TJ went back to his game and they were content in their silence.

Finally TJ said, “I’m really happy you have Yasha. And I’m happy she has you, too.”

Bea smiled and ruffled TJ’s hair. “And I’m happy you’re here, too. We both love you.”

“Ugh,” TJ groaned. “Stop.”

Beau laughed and turned back towards the tv, happy with how her life had shaped up to be.

#beauyasha #lyricalporcupine #yasha nydoorin #beauregard lionett #porcupine writes #beauyasha fanfiction #tj lionett #mollymauk tealeaf

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

more of tauriel’s hellfamily adventures! there’s still a couple of gaps in my conception of this au, which is why these are bullet points and not an actual fic, but i think i’ve got enough to progress the plot, such as it is. certainly got a bunch of anecdotes i think are funny

i’m not even going to bother explaining how tauriel ended up in one of the fëanorians’ boltholes being treated for mild injuries

nothing super serious, but enough that she’s out of action for the rest of the night. the palace is on fire

the bolthole opens, and celegorm (who’s doing first aid) turns his head. his preemptive scowl melts away instantly. ‘hi elrond!’

the former lord of imladris just sighs. ‘please tell me you idiots haven’t abducted tauriel’

legolas has concerns, apparently. he saw celegorm vanish into an alleyway with her slung over his shoulder and immediately started panicking

‘i've talked him into delaying his rescue mission until i had the chance to check that she was safe’ elrond finishes, sounding absolutely exhausted

tauriel confirms that she is doing fine, as much as she can through the concussion. celegorm’s like ‘if he’s so worried about her why doesn’t he just come up here’

elrond disappears, and a few minutes later legolas scrambles inside

he’s glaring at celegorm. celegorm tells him where the first aid kit is, punches him on the arm, compliments his tracking skills in a vaguely threatening manner, and jumps back out to assist with the chaos

legolas collapses by tauriel’s bedside, still clutching his bow. tauriel pats him on the thigh reassuringly

neither of them are surprised elrond knows the fëanorians - they stayed in his place in tol eressëa for a while, dude knows literally everyone - but they don’t really know why

closer to dawn, elrond’s voice drifts up into the hideout. he’s going on this long irritated rant that climaxes in an extremely exasperated ‘valardamnit dad!’

maglor cackles. tauriel’s like ‘huh didn’t know that.’ legolas makes a face like he accidentally swallowed a spider

by this point, tauriel’s known the brothers hellspawn for long enough legolas has been unnervingly close to a kinslayer way more times than he’d like

this is the longest he’s spent in proximity to them by far, but it’s not the only time he’s interacted with them. they seem to like tauriel, and he knows she can take care of herself

but like still

it keeps happening, though. as tauriel further ingratiates herself with these awful awful elves, her two separate social circles keep bleeding into each other

take the time legolas and co visited the aulendili

before they left middle-earth, gimli whipped round every dwarf they knew and assembled several volumes of complaints. they refuse to confirm or deny whether aulë is the maker, but they are determined someone’s gonna hear their grievances

and thus a small wagon train of wood elves head up into the mountains. including tauriel

tauriel offhandedly mentioned the upcoming trip to the twins, and amras was like ‘hey we’ve got family up there!’ a few messages went up and down the funicular, and now gimli and crew have a place to crash up there

they’re put up by some of the fëanorians’ less murderous (if equally loud) relatives. it’s a pretty interesting trip

half the town is redheads. several people still mistake tauriel for a fëanorian. it’s been happening a lot in the wider noldorin territory lately, it’s weird

caranthir stumbles up into town about halfway through their visit. he gets into an extremely long philosophical argument with gimli that somehow ends with a mutual dwarven nod of respect

he also ends up fighting back-to-back with tauriel in one of those debatebrawls so common among the noldor. neither of them is quite sure how it happens

that’s the way it goes, isn’t it. there’s no big official moment when tauriel becomes part of the family

she just grows closer to them over her time in valinor, as they do to her

she merges into their social world. she develops a rapport with maglor’s wife - a first age mountain sinda and a third age forest avar don’t have that much in common, but they are both looking at noldorin culture from the outside. they have so many injokes about ridiculous bling

(it goes the other way too. this childhood friend oc of hers i’m developing - pretty sweet guy, the token sane man in the legolas-tauriel-him trinity - gets along really well with celebrimbor)

this one time tauriel punches a guy out for calling elrond a traitor. it doesn’t matter that he’s like three times her age, he is babey

she gets chewed out by maedhros and tests out new devices for curufin and drops in on nerdanel for tea. even though she doesn’t permanently live in the definitely-not-fëanorian quarter, she has her own personal space in its innermost warren

she’s one of them long before anyone consciously realises it

what causes that realisation is, admittedly, partially the conspiracy theories. if you say something often enough, you’ll start to believe it, and while the tauriel origin stories circulating through the noldorin rumour mill vary a lot in the details they all agree she is a fëanorian

but that’s a gradual long-term thing. it’s one more thread that leads to the moment

because there has to be an inflection point, i think. the fëanorians have plenty of family friends within the ranks of their definitely-not-minions. some are even as close to them as tauriel’s become

something has to happen to show she’s something more. fortunately, as demonstrated by the darkening and the númenorian invasion, no matter how peaceful it seems, history never stops

shit goes down. the exact details i’ll admit i don’t know yet, but at some point some sort of massive crisis rocks all of valinor. it’s during that crisis that tauriel does stuff that makes it blindingly obvious she’s not just on her side, but one of them

what stuff? again, i don’t know yet. i have this mental image of her leading a strike team that’s half definitely-not-minions and half legolas’ people through a burning city to do... something badass, but that’s as specific as i can get atm

what i am certain about, is that throughout the unfolding of the crisis, tauriel is permanently on the fëanorians’ side, just like they’re on hers

it’s one thing to be someone’s friend in bright happy days. it’s another thing to stick by them when everything’s falling to pieces and the whole world is against them. it’s in the depths of this crisis that both parties have the chance to fully prove their worth to each other

that probably wouldn’t be enough on its own, but combined with the friendship and the conspiracy theories and just the general way she is, once the dust settles it’s blazingly clear that tauriel is a daughter of the house of fëanor

there’s a little debate about where exactly she fits on the family tree, but not much. our sample size is admittedly small, but third generation fëanorians tend to have the slightest modicum of common sense? elrond and celebrimbor both have a fair degree of self-awareness and at least a few brain cells

tauriel does not. tauriel is mad, bad, and dangerous to know, just smart enough to understand that her sheer chaoticness is something she can channel but not nearly close to regularly thinking through the consequences of her actions. she’s loud and violent and does whatever she wants whenever she wants without a single thought towards what people will think of her

and more than that, she doesn’t relate to the second generation fëanorians the way the third generation does. she’s their friend and partner-in-crime, not one of their precious perfect must-protect children. she gets jerked around and bullied and does all that stuff right back, and while she doesn’t have a solid place in the second generation’s internal hierarchy yet she would easily slot in

no, tauriel’s a second generation fëanorian, one of fëanor and nerdanel’s horrible children. the fact that fëanor is currently indisposed and unable to provide an opinion on the matter doesn’t seem to bother anyone

she gets inducted into the family in a massive group hug, and from then on out the brothers hellspawn are the siblings hellspawn

her new family doesn’t replace her old one, of course, she has a long talk with elrond wherein she hashes this out. she’s still a silvan of the greenwood

she’s just also the little sister of the most bloodthirsty elves in history

(that sound in the background is legolas screaming)

#silmarillion #tauriel #feanorians #house of feanor #the feanorian tauriel saga #my terrible fic #this is late because i needed to sleep last night #extremely panicky background legolas #the worst part is he can't even deny it #current plan is looking like one more main entry and a couple of errata #there's a scene i don't think i'll be able to fit in and a little minific about why tauriel doesn't believe in maedhros

[chaoticneutralwriter]

The Calm

And it’s this quiet moment that you cherish the most.

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: supernatural, romance, angst, slow-burn, comedy, fluff

word count: 7.5k

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

Continuation of: First Bite and A Small Death (M)

Warning: pillow talk so some suggestive content, but other wise fluffy and domestic af

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA HAPPY HOLIDAYS!🎄🎁☃️ AM I TOO LATE FOR AN UPDATE?? LOLL It’s not necessarily Christmas themed but I had anticipated I could get this done at least by then to post so...does this count as a present? dkshg I’m so sorry it took so long 😩 the last few weeks got me feeling in some type of funk where sometimes i wanna do something and other times it’s just ‘i know i gotta do this thing but...i don’t wanna’ so please excuse if there’s any typos i might’ve not caught and if the chapter seems very stop and go sdfkjshg Once again, thank you guys so so SO much for your endless love and support for this fic and for your endless patience! Stay safe, take care and have a restful week!

Tag list: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​ @moments-of-melancholy @xclo02 @cherub-kookie @gottadreamitallaway​ @indiesy​ @disn3yfreak @oerangdoongi

You feel yourself stirring back into consciousness, becoming more aware of the soft duvet covers that cocoon you. On an inhale, you pick up the smell of fresh linen with an undertone of warm peppermint and cedar. It's nice, soothing and you bury your nose further in it. But it's definitely not what your bed sheets smell like.

Slowly, your eyes flutter open, vision blurred from the deep slumber you were in and the dimness of the room until you blink to adjust yourself. Through the sliver of thin curtains, you see the still darkened night sky – an endless sea of midnight blue with only the faint golden glow of the city building lights dotting along its surface like makeshift stars. The moon is full tonight, shining brightly and casting its pale rays onto the floor and walls though occasionally, it shies away behind wispy clouds that drift by.

Growing more awake, you begin to notice other things besides the time of day, like how these microfibre sheets were especially soft against your body, caressing your skin as if you're wearing nothing at all.

....Oh, you really were wearing nothing at all.

You pause to think, trying to get the gears working in your head before the memories start to jog again.

You remember meeting Jungkook at that fancy lounge, he had given you the address to where your guardian demon was staying (more like hiding). You had marched up, banging on his door and demanding him to explain why the fuck he would hide something as important as attempting to transition to a guardian angel –

Your eyes widen, a sick surge of panic rushing from your gut and you might've given yourself whiplash in your haste to see the other side of the bed, only to sigh out quietly, your palpitating heart settling back to a calm, steady beat. Carefully, you roll yourself over, shuffling closer and finally letting yourself take him in, like Psyche laying eyes on Eros for the first time.

He sleeps so soundly, almost angelically and you resist the urge to snort at the irony of that thought, but with the way his dark raven locks are tousled, strands falling over his forehead, delicate lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks and his full pink lips that are parted slightly as the moonlight kisses every inch of smooth skin the sheets aren't covering, you swear he could fool anyone into believing it, even heaven themselves.

You can't help but to bring a hand up to sweep away the stray hairs, allowing you a better glimpse of him. It's the first time you've seen him this relaxed, any sort of tension no longer marring his elegant face, like for once he doesn't have to put on a strong front and the sight has you bewitched, wanting to take in as much as you can. When your fingers gently glide down his profile, you're surprised they come away a little warmer. In fact, the more you look, you think his complexion has improved, a healthier glow compared to when you first saw him. Is it your imagination? Or the trick of the light? You lift your head to try and get a better look.

You feel him stir before you can be sure of it and you're met with obsidian irises that seem to bore into your soul. There's a slightly dazed look in his eyes that has a fond smile tug at the corner of your lips as you settle back down again.

“Hi.” You whisper, as if afraid you'll break the peace of the night.

Recognition flits through his gaze at the sound of your voice and he mirrors your smile, breathing a soft sigh. He lifts the hand that was resting on his stomach to take hold of yours resting on his cheek.

“Hey.” It comes out deep and husky; still heavily laden with sleep and raspy from disuse. He turns so that he's facing you properly, thumb stroking the back of your hand before he places a kiss on your inner wrist. “Thought I was dreaming for a second...”

You let out what can only be described as a mix between a throaty laugh and a garble, a rather unattractive noise that has you pulling your hand back to cover your face in embarrassment, cheeks heating up further when your muffled voice comes out extremely hoarse and cracks if you so much as raise it.

“You can't say that when you were literally sleeping like a French girl waiting to be painted.”

He chuckles, not hesitating to pull you into his chest and sneaking another kiss to your forehead. You snuggle against him happily, throwing your arm across his stomach and pressing your own lips to his collarbone in return as he slips an arm under your head to use as a pillow.

“You're one to talk.” You hear him say above you before adding teasingly, “When you're not stealing all the blanket.”

You lightly push your knuckles at his jaw but there was no real force or seriousness behind the reprimand; just a case of your usual banters acting up. He retaliates by playfully snapping his teeth at your hand, as if to bite the fingers and you pull back, squealing and giggling.

“No biting!”

“So no biting I see...Duly noted then.”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized as your gaze whips up, only to find him barely containing a suggestive smirk at you.

“...I don't like what you're implying...” You say, eyes narrowing even though you find yourself subtly sinking lower in an attempt to hide the blush you feel rushing up your neck. He catches you all the same, tilting his head as the lazy smirk grows.

“Oh darling I only say to better please you. Although,” He pauses, slowly, purposefully leaning down closer to you, a gleam in his eyes that you swear made his dark eyes deepen into a devilish crimson for a split second.

“We'll probably have to work on that stamina – can't have you tapping out just after three orgasms.”

You choke, completely flustered at such brazen and lascivious words that sound far too honeyed than they should be, making the memories seem all the more vivid in your mind. Your entire body feels incredibly hot suddenly and not knowing what to do, you whine helplessly and attempt to roll away from him but he holds onto you, the sounds of his laughter tinkling in your ears.

“You're not getting any of this blanket for that now.” You pout, bunching and tugging the sheets to your chest more.

“I'm just teasing love, I couldn't help myself!” He giggles, nuzzling into your shoulder. “Forgive me?”

You let the silence drag out for a few seconds longer before you sneak a peek over, letting out a snort when you see him blinking big puppy dog eyes at you. You're biting back a smile as you turn to face him again.

“You're lucky you're cute.”

His eyes crease up as he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, stroking the soft skin. You lean into his touch, watching him affectionately until you see his expression dim to something more sombre.

“I really am sorry Y/N.” He confesses quietly, voice tinged with a heavy guilt as his fingers move to play distractedly with your hair, gently tucking the loose strands behind your ear or brushing them off your shoulder. “I'm sorry I kept this from you for as long as I did....”

You open your mouth to speak, but stop midway. You'd be lying if you said that you're not completely over being mad at him for what he did, however, the initial anger had more or less simmered to a heartache you can't quite shake. You feel him beginning to withdraw his touch, perhaps misreading your silence as reopening a tender wound but you bring a hand up to entangle your fingers with his, keeping them in place.

“I know you said you did it to protect me but,” The sigh you let out holds a lingering sadness, “I still wished you had told me...” You chastised, stern yet gentle as you lock a steady gaze on him. “You really had me worried and scared. I thought something happened to you...like...” You swallow and he squeezes your hand lightly in comfort. “Like the night I found you...in my room.”

He nods, solemnly conceding and his eyes drift away, reflecting in his thoughts.

“I'm sure you figured by now; that night was when I had came back from starting the transitioning process.” He rolls until he's lying on his back, staring aimlessly at the ceiling and you shuffle closer in his loosened hold, not wanting to be apart from his warmth, listening. “Usually not a big deal....but for a demon, it was dangerous.” A rueful chuckle. “To be honest, I still don't know how I even survived...”

Your heart clenches at the thought and you bite your lip, pushing down the lump that's growing.

“But ever since then, my body's been...off, and it only grew worse each day – to the point where using my powers for even the simplest things put a huge strain on me.” He inhales deeply, as if he's trying to breathe past the weight that's been sitting on his chest. “I felt so exhausted all the time; I thought at this rate, I wouldn't be able to do anything. I wouldn't be able to protect you from the misfortunes that follow me and if I couldn't do that much, it would be better for me to stay away, keep you from the dangers and...” You see his jaw stiffen before he directs his gaze to the side, face turned away from you. “Keep you from seeing me this way; helpless, weak.”

The last few words come out as if he loathes to admit them aloud, voice tight. You hear how frustrated he is with himself and you're quick to assuage those tumultuous thoughts, rising so that you hover above his form to cup his face in your hands until your eyes meet, pulling him from the abyss.

“I would rather be in danger than have you risk your life.” You say, softening when you continue, “I don't want to lose you....You mean so much to me. Please don't ever forget that.”

Dark eyes, much like the starless night sky outside the window, widen fractionally. You fight the blush threatening to bloom across your cheeks, realizing how ardent you might've sound but you speak honestly, even if your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your ribcage at any moment. You think it speeds up when you see his mouth tug into a small smile and he leans up to brush his nose against yours tenderly, winding one arm around your waist to press you even closer to his body, half lying on top of him.

“I never would've thought in my lifetime I would find someone like you cherub.” He says in disbelief, free hand coming up to bury into the locks of your hair, palm resting on the back of your neck. “I've done nothing to deserve you.”

“Well, you're just gonna have to accept it.” You answer, planting a light kiss on the tip of his nose. “Because I'm not going anywhere.” You punctuate each word with a kiss to the apple's of his cheeks, forehead, over the lids of his eyes, and finally on pillowy soft lips. You can't help but linger there a little longer. When you pull away, it's to take in his visage, eyes travelling over his form before something catches your attention.

At first, you didn't recognize it; the blemish appearing more or less like a birthmark, however, you see the size it takes up on the left side of his chest and it's then you realize that it was the tattoo you had seen, only this time it appeared to be so much more faded, and in some places, the inky lines have disappeared altogether. You frown, troubled at having not noticed until now...or perhaps from the fact that you had entirely missed it because it was barely there anymore, you're not sure.

“I'm guessing this is because of the process too?” You ask, thoughtlessly tracing the pads of your fingers over what's left of the mark. He hums, the sound rumbling beneath your palm as his larger hand encompasses yours, holding it in place and you feel the steady beating of his heart.

“I'm not surprised, it's the mark of a demon after all.” He explains, none too bothered and lightly shrugging at that. When the hard line of your lips doesn't let up, he chuckles, reaching up to poke your cheek. “It's just a mark cherub, nothing serious. It's meant to distinguish our kind because of our ability to take on any human appearances.”

Still, you don't like how it's another glaringly obvious sign that your guardian demon's health is deteriorating, an unwanted byproduct to add to the pile that does nothing but taunt you. It has your thoughts straying back to the idea that you had your mind set on. You're very tempted to bring it up; wanting to desperately tell him that you might've found another way, that he doesn't need to endure any more pain or sacrifices for your sake, that for once, maybe you can do something for him after all he's done for you.

“Cherub?”

The soft call brings you back, eyes refocusing on the demon who blinks up at you curiously with the faintest hints of concern etched across his deceivingly delicate features. At the sight, you feel yourself melting, endeared and suddenly you can't bear to ruin this sweet moment with another heavy topic – you both had just came to terms and settled the whole guardian angel thing after all.

You'll tell him later, right now you'd rather be making up the lost time you could've had kissing and snuggling him.

So in the end, it gets pushed to the very back of your mind and you redirect to something else, “Sorry, I was just thinking about what you said; how demons can take on any human appearances. I'll admit, your Jimin look is impressive.”

You see him take pause, no doubt trying to process the flitting thought that has just passed before ultimately, he chooses to let it slide and allows you to pull him into your playful antics. The smug smirk that makes its way onto his lips has a coquettish one sneaking onto your own. “But,” you almost laugh at how fast he falters at the single word and your smile grows more and more teasing. “I'm afraid you got sloppy, with or without your mark I could easily tell you weren't actually Jimin.”

He scoffs, looking thoroughly affronted by your claims. “How? I think my look is pretty spot on.”

You hum, propping up a little more so that you can brush the dark strands of hair on his forehead with the tips of your finger. “True....But you could say almost too perfect. See, Jimin has a beauty mark here.” You gently tap on a spot just above his left brow and you giggle when the skin wrinkles up in his effort to follow your movement attentively. “And here...” Your finger lowers to the edge of his collarbone. “And one on the back of his neck. You only managed to get the one on his cheek right.”

The indignant grunt he makes lets you know he's pouting without you even having to look.

“His teeth aren't perfectly straight like yours either – one of his front tooth is slightly crooked.”

“...I do hope your interest in teeth won't go beyond that...”

You smack his chest lightly, kissing your teeth but otherwise make no further comment. “I think the last thing that gave you away is your choice in piercings...” You point out, brushing your thumb against the sensitive shell of his ear where the helix stud sits. “Jimin doesn't have this one anymore.”

“A shame really...” You hear the demon murmur and your eyebrows quirk, barely catching the way he swallows thickly, eyes darting off to the side.

You blink, wondering if you've made him self-conscious or uncomfortable in any way but little do you know, the demon is only relieved you hadn't noticed the goosebumps that have erupted over his arm at your innocent touch.

“You're right, and that's why I like it – the helix piercing.” You continue, smiling gently. “And everything else you missed. It's like your own kind of imperfections and preferences...it just proves that you're you, and not Jimin.”

You can't help letting your voice tether off into something much softer for the quiet confession hidden in those last few words.

You're the one I love.

Your stomach flutters with butterflies at the foreign feeling, shrinking in on yourself out of shyness and you know you really shouldn't be, but you're also nervous; for what you're not even entirely sure. Mentally, you scold yourself – you must seem like such a weird, emotional mess of a human being to him.

The rumbling vibrations of his chuckle catches your attention, as does the palm of his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“Well, I'm glad that you're the one to differentiate the two of us.”

He doesn't need to say anything else because from the fond look in his eyes and the tender dulcet tone of his voice, you see and hear his unspoken response, how much it means to him.

Thank you for loving me, for me.

Your heart swells unbelievably in size that you're actually left a little breathless. The butterflies are going crazy now and so overwhelmed by your emotions but not knowing how to express them adequately, you bury your face into his neck and squeeze a tight hug into him. You get a breathy laugh in response and feel his strong arms squeezing you right back, his mouth pressing into the crown of your head. You stay like that for a while, simply taking in the scent that is so uniquely his. It never fails to relax every nerve in your body, and coupled with the rhythmic stroking of his hand through your hair, you find yourself struggling to blink away the heaviness that's starting to fall over your lids.

Your lips move in a drowsy mumble, sluggishly forming the beginnings of his name but then stopping abruptly. Lifting your head so that you can look at him, you're suddenly wide eyed with the realization.

“I should probably stop calling you 'Jimin' then huh?”

Obsidian eyes blink down at you, amusement shining in their depths for the way you seem so pressed about the issue, like you had offended him to the highest degree. Your chest moves in sync with the deep inhale he takes, watching as he languidly lifts his arm to tuck it behind his head, his expression shifting to something a little more pensive before he seems to reach a conclusion.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment cherub, I think it's safer if you still continue to. When I said there is power to a name, I didn't mean so lightly. A demon can be overpowered or even banished should their true name be known; be it by a medium, an exorcist or –“

“An angel.”

The words slips out unconsciously in a small whisper, like you're afraid to speak it into existence.

“...Yes, especially angels.” He answers you like he was the bearer of bad news, only you knew that much already. You might not be an expert, but you think it's pretty basic knowledge that demons (and by proxy, other kinds of dark entities) can be expelled in some form or another – your past jokes and gibes at your own guardian demon were proof of that matter alone.

However, now you've been hit in the face with just how volatile that reality is; and all it would take is uttering his name to the wrong person.

“I won't let that happen.”

It's a promise, a vow; one you'll be damned if you broke. He smiles, endeared at your unwavering display of determination.

“I know you won't love, but regardless, if you ever find yourself in danger don't hesitate to call my name.”

Your brows furrow in protest. “But that's too –”

“No buts Y/N.” He gently reprimands you, curling a finger under your chin so that your eyes lock onto the firm gaze he fixes you with. “As your guardian; your safety is still and will always remain my priority.”

There's a finality with the statement that lets you know that no amount of arguing will change his mind on that and your mouth reluctantly falls shut. At your conflicted and crestfallen look, he softens.

“Hey.”

You perk up slightly and feel the featherlight brushes of his finger against the roundness of your cheek, a small placating gesture.

“Don't worry too much on it cherub, just something I want you to keep in mind yeah?”

You want to weakly retort that it's too late for that, mind already running amok with worse case scenarios. You don't get too far into it however, as fatigue rolls over you like a powerful wave, overtaking you in the form of a giant yawn that you struggle to stifle; the force of it has your whole body shuddering.

“We should really stop meeting like this, I'm afraid it's finally taking a toll on you.”

The disgruntled noise you let out gets muffled in with the last remnants of the tired exhale. You don't truly understand what he means until you blink away the tears, catching sight of a sleek digital clock sitting on the night stand, and squinting, you see the numbers illuminating in green reads 4:45AM.

You groan and feel as if whatever remaining energy you had is drained after knowing the time. Shutting your eyes, your body sags completely, half-draped unceremoniously over the firm body of your demon.

“Now, now princess, you'll regret falling asleep like this when you wake up.” You hear him tut before you feel yourself be moved, rolled to your side so that you lie properly on the mattress. You whine, was perfectly contented where you were but settle once you feel arms wrap itself around your waist, pulling you close and your face is once again buried perfectly into the crook of his neck, head resting on the pillow.

The calming scent of him along with his warmth and the plush covers cocooning you easily allows for sleep to pull at your lids once more, your own arms instinctively curling around him.

“Good?”

You hum, sighing out as your worries slowly muddle together into nothing more than a heavy fog and when he starts to run his fingers through your hair again, you're practically mush.

“...You never answered my question...” You murmur thoughtlessly, like a subconscious, knee jerk reaction born from a last minute need for some peace of mind before you finally succumb to the rapidly growing fatigue. His hand stills momentarily, and you're not sure if it's because he had barely made out your slurred words or if it's to recall the memory. There's a lapse in silence, how long you're not even sure at this point as you feel yourself drifting in and out of being awake, but then you hear it – sweet and wistful.

“...For as long as I'm yours, I'll stay.”

-

The next time you wake, it is to a warmth that you quickly find wasn't the kind you expected nor want. The soft rays of the sun easily pierces through the chiffon curtains that drape over the floor to ceiling windows in the bedroom, bathing the space in a golden haze and while often times, it leaves for an impressive view of the vast cityscape below, you're not entirely appreciative of the exposure it gives you now. Not only did it disrupt you from your peaceful slumber, it does little to hide the coolness you feel from the empty space beside you.

You sit up with a start, still dazed and stay there for a good minute, squinting through the light that's way too bright the same time trying to kickstart your mind into gear – you never were the best person to wake up, it took you forever to get yourself together. Eventually, your eyes begin to take in what's around you, the dark grey sheets that pool around your waist and finally getting a good look at the interior of the room.

It's ridiculously spacious, as is the bed you're sitting in, even from what little you had seen initially amidst the dim lighting along with the flurry of heightened emotions and passion. In fact, it looks a lot like a snapshot right out of a luxury home interior decorating magazine if you're going to be honest.

Off the bat, you can tell the colour scheme was mainly dark greys, creams, and blacks, accented by the same deep mahogany wood of the front door. It was also decorated simply with minimalistic styled furnishing. Aside from the low laying king sized bed, with its taupe coloured upholstered frame, a dresser sits across from you and in the far corner facing the large windows was a singular lounge chair with a small coffee table situated in front.

Turning your head, you see matching night tables, both with identical geometric lamps but one had the clock you spotted earlier, the time now reading 2:16PM. To your left, you notice a doorway situated perpendicular to the large windows in one corner of the room while to the right of you, there was another door and just ahead to the right was another. Immediately, you guess that these lead off to one of three places; a bathroom, a closet or the main hall leading out to the rest of the penthouse.

A shiver passes through you, causing you to momentarily shrink in on yourself and reminding you that you're still very much nude. Self-consciously, you tug the blankets around you back up once more, wearing it as a makeshift cape as you continue to glance around the room, now with more awake eyes. It's then that you finally notice your neatly folded clothes laying on the black cushioned bench at the end of the bed, and sitting just beside that pile was a plain black robe and towels. The rush of air through your nose barely concealed the quiet giggle seeping through – so sweet of him.

You should probably shower, you think. Though surprisingly, you don't feel as grimy as you would have thought but still, it'd be refreshing. You lean over until your hand reaches the robe, already loving the extremely plush softness you feel under your fingertips. It feels even better once you shrug it on, securing the sash around your waist and you honestly think you can fall right back asleep in it. A tempting idea, but you have more pressing matters. Niggling at the back of your mind, a part of you wanted to find your guardian demon first, to check up on him in the same manner he'd so carefully demonstrated upon your waking and confirm your comfort wasn't at the expense of his health. Plus – and even as you admit this, your heart traitorously flutters – you miss him.

You shuffle to the edge of the bed until you're able to swing your legs over, letting the soles of your feet touch the cream carpeting before you haul yourself up. You sharply inhale, halting in your steps at the popping of joints and a dull ache, the latter catching you off guard (and causing a mad rush of heat to your face) that you had to take a moment before tentatively continuing to the door farthest from you.

Just as your hand brushes the handle, your hair falls over your face and without thinking, you sweep it away but the motion makes you pause abruptly. Slowly, your mind jogs back up to speed, your fingers combing through the messy locks in an attempt to smooth it out and suddenly you need a mirror. Actually, never mind a mirror, you probably should at least brush your teeth before heading out so recklessly!

Shamefaced, you change course, heading straight to the door you guessed was the en suite bathroom. The moment you opened the door, you're immediately taken aback. Much like the bedroom, the bathroom was quite big and so cleanly decorated with wide windows that take up one wall, offering whoever that was soaking in the Jacuzzi bathtub the same expansive view as the bedroom. Aside from the tub, there was also a glass shower stall big enough to fit at least four people at once despite having a bench inside, the stone marble matching in colour with the twin sink counter and cool grey tiles.

It takes you a moment to compose yourself again from being awestruck with the excessive bathroom and after much careful rifling in the medicine cabinet, you find a spare toothbrush and a travel sized toothpaste pack.

Teeth brushed and a little bit more refreshed from a splash of water to your face, you finally poke your head out of the door your had initially set your sights on. You find your previous suspicions correct as laid out before you was a hallway, the walls a warm cream beige colour that matched the carpet that continued outside the bedroom and any doors were of the same mahogany wood. It wasn't fairly long as you see just not far ahead, the carpeting stops at a threshold of sorts and leads off to another open space with dark granite flooring. Immediately, you're drawn out without hesitation because from the small glimpse alone, your eyes were already bugging out of your head.

So by the time you actually reached the end, you swear your jaw just about dropped off its hinges. The space you stumbled into was a living room, the size alone you think equalled to your kitchen, living room and bedroom, with its high ceilings, so tall that there's room to hang an equally large linear chandelier without appearing claustrophobic (in fact, the lighting fixture itself looked as if it could pass off as an expensive art installation) and if you had thought the view in the bedroom was extreme, you've been proven sorely wrong.

One side of the room is entirely made up of floor to ceiling windows, making the view even more vast with nothing obstructing it that if you had peered over, you would believed you were simply floating on a cloud in the sky, truly suspended in mid-air. Mounted on the wall adjacent to the panel of large glass was a sleek, electric fireplace, the flames dancing over small, white pebbled stones rather than wood and at the centre were long velvet couches surrounding a simple wood coffee table, all encircled by a lush white fur rug.

What's more, the other thing that had caught your attention was the set of floating stairs that lead up to another level of the penthouse – leading to what you're not sure. With your eyes so busily roaming about the entire area, you had failed to notice the person you've initially set out to look for until the very last moment, finally spotting his figure ahead in the kitchen situated under the large landing of the stairs. His back was turned towards you so all you saw was his tousled raven locks, the faint twinkling of his silver chained earrings and a loose fitting white tunic. Automatically, you smile, your heart easing and suddenly the splendour of this luxurious penthouse means nothing to you.

Despite your approach being fairly quiet, you knew it was no match for the heightened senses of a demon and without surprise, you see him turn his head slightly to acknowledge your presence just as you reach the island counter separating you from him.

“Slept well cherub?” He asks with a charming quirk of his lips.

You seat yourself on the breakfast stool, propping your arm on top of the marble counter top and hum, pretending to think.

“For Egyptian cotton, it wasn't too bad I guess.”

You get a chuckle from him before he turns his attention back to what's in front of him, and it's then that you smell the cooking of eggs and bacon. Instantly, your stomach gurgles, demanding to be fed and your cheeks colour at the loud sound it made. There's no way the demon in front of you could've missed it, even if he didn't have supernatural hearing. So as if prompted, he lifted the sizzling pan and dispensed its contents onto a pristine white plate sitting beside the stove, just as the toaster pinged.

You watch him take the single slice between his fingers before he faces you once more, presenting you a plate of creamy scrambled eggs, strips of crispy bacon and perfectly golden toast on the side.

“Sorry if it's a little lacking. I've found that throughout the years, I don't have a good grasp of flavours humans enjoy.” He apologizes. “Eggs and bacon are the few dishes you can't really go wrong with.”

You suppress the snort, accepting the plate gratefully nonetheless and not minding his forewarning – it made sense after all so you assured, “Hey, at least it looks edible and cooked well; already better than my own scrambled eggs and bacon.”

The smile he gives you makes his eyes crease into crescent moons, his cheeks rounding with a glimmer of mirth that makes him appear very boyish. He hands you a silver fork pulled from one of the drawers.

“Very sweet of you cherub.”

Your eyes squint and your cheeks puff up from the force of the exaggerated, syrupy sweet smile you give him, wiggling in your seat like a cheeky five year old as you lift your hand to take the utensil. You miss the crooked stretch of his lips so before you could close around the fork, he pulls it out of reach and lightly bonks the back of your hand with it. The shock of the metal hitting your knuckle jolts you and your eyes snap open in an instant, mouth open.

“Jimin!” You say, aghast but the sound is more or less void of any real offence as you act out cradling your 'injured' hand.

All he does is bark a single laugh and gesture to the fork for you to take again. “Eat up, food's getting cold.”

Not like you needed to be told twice, if not by Jimin then the sounds of your growling stomach. You gratefully begin to chew on the eggs and bacon (albeit they were on the bland side, but food is food and you ate happily). Meanwhile, Jimin busies himself making a cup of tea for you after he had asked your preferences and as he does, you both chatted, mainly about this apartment you didn't know he had.

“I rarely have any use for these places because I never really stay for long.” Jimin explains casually, sliding you a steaming mug as you finish your last bit of toast. “I use them if I have time or if I just want some place quiet to relax and not be disturbed.”

“Then what's the point of having a place so big?” You ask, exchanging your empty plate for the mug, wrapping it up in your hands to warm your palms.

He props up an elbow, leaning on the counter with a cheek resting in one palm and shrugs. “I can't deny I like nice things but in the end, it doesn't have any real value to me.” Here, a sly smile makes his way onto those pillowy soft lips. “You can have it if you want.”

The sentence nearly makes you spit out the tea you had so meticulously been blowing on and you cough, stammering, “I-It's fine! Don't joke like that!”

“I wasn't joking, I was being serious.”

The way Jimin said it was so matter of fact that you could only blink in disbelief. After much floundering, you clear your throat, bringing up the mug closer to your face in hopes of shielding the heat that's spreading over your cheeks. “Still, there's no need. I can't possibly take your house.”

The demon in front of you puffs a chortle, still looking as carefree on the matter as ever, “If you ever change your mind, let me know.”

You grunt bemusedly, mumbling about how you wouldn't even know what to do with a place so big, before taking a slow sip of your tea, humming lightly at the warming feeling and the pleasant taste. Jimin watches you quietly, a content smile on his face. You try to seem unbothered but evidently, the effects of your newly blossomed relationship with him has yet to calm down and so, your heart fluttered in your chest incessantly the moment you locked gazes with those irises, dark as night that seem to only shine on you.

Suddenly, you find yourself in a paradox – while you feel like you're struggling to maintain eye contact with Jimin, no matter how much your eyes flit and wander aimlessly, in the end you're drawn back to him anyways. Rather shameless you think, but confidently, you could at least say that you can't be blamed.

You're not sure if it's the sun's rays, so freely beaming into the room from those large windows, or it's just Jimin, but he seems to emit an unexplained ethereal glow. Gone was the ashen paleness that had made his skin appear almost translucent, his complexion radiates a warm honeyed suppleness that you've missed seeing on him because with it, he looked so much livelier.

Wait.

Now that nothing is hindering your sights, you see clearly that any ailments on his features have been significantly reduced. The purplish dark circles that had clung under his eyes are gone, his cheeks don't seem to be so sunken in and even his raven black hair, tousled effortlessly, had a wonderful sheen as it fell in thick waves over his forehead.

It's with without a doubt, this Jimin in front of you right now really was indeed healthier.

Unconsciously you find your hand reaching out to his face as if wanting to confirm physically that this was no illusion or dream, making Jimin blink in surprise before he gently catches your hand mid-way.

“Something wrong cherub?”

“It's just,” You start, fingers automatically clasping in his hold and you absentmindedly think how soft and warm his hands were. “How are you feeling?”

The sudden question must've caught Jimin a little off guard so after a second of serious considerations, he replies, “I feel...pretty good?”

“You look pretty good too.” The words slip right out before you realized it but once you do, you pull your hand back hastily, flustered as you rambled. “Not that you don't always look good! Because you do! Because you know, you're a demon, master of disguises and all that, and you've even got on arguably one of the best looking faces on the planet so what I meant was you don't look like a ghost that's been dead for centuries anymore instead of a demon like you're supposed to be!”

Jimin, of course, didn't really bother to hide the toothy grin that's forming yet very graciously still moved the subject along in fear that you would pass out. “You do have a point – as you've seen and have been told, the effects of the transition were obvious on me. But,” He lifts up a hand to eye level, spreading his fingers and flipping it this way and that. “I...really do feel fine. Much better than I have for days.” The last admittance has his shapely brows furrowing, as if he couldn't believe it himself once he's said it aloud.

“Is there any sort of explanation for this?” You ask.

Then, after some pondering, he slowly let his hand fall to his side and hummed, “There are...a few number of possibilities I can think of. The most likely one is that unconsciously, I might've taken some energy from you.”

“Taken from me? When did – oh...” It clicked just as the sentence was coming out and instantly your face flushes, eyes wide. Jimin's brow rose, his lips twitching imperceptibly at the corner and you rush, clearing your throat to cover up. “I thought that was like....a specific ability you needed to have, unless you mean to tell me you're an incubus...”

Jimin snorts, bringing a fist up to cover his mouth before he said, “No cherub, I'm not. All demons possess this ability to a certain degree but most usually lean towards certain affinities. Unless you're specifically an incubus, there are other way demons can gain sustenance or a source for their power other than taking energy directly from humans.”

At such news, your own brows raise in curiousity and you can't help but to ask. “Then what do you usually use?”

“Oh the usual; fear, invoking murderous intent, enticing those into depravity.” Jimin lightly lists off, as if he's talking about hobbies he likes to do on a lazy Sunday.

“Hah....” You shouldn't be so surprised. “Well, either way, as long as you're feeling better.”

Jimin hums noncommittally, distractedly reaching out to tuck a strand of fallen hair behind your ear and though his face is mostly impassive, you get the feeling that he was still deeply mulling over this. But the pensive look soon disappears, his eyes going slightly hooded as something else had caught his attention, his focus going to a place on your neck. You felt the hand brushing your hair come to a slow too and shivered when the pads lightly graze the skin there, trailing a path downwards before stopping.

“What a mess I've made.” The low rumbling murmur has your breath involuntarily hitching and your chin automatically tilts down to see what he was referring to. With his prodding, the collar of your robe had been pushed open to reveal the purplish colouring that mottled the surface of the skin along your collarbone and already without needing to see the full extent of the bruising, you know your neck is covered with them.

It was honestly something you hadn't thought about until it's been pointed out so the moment actually caught you off guard and in your stupor, you can only half coherently say, “Not like it hurts or anything...”

When his fingers draw the robe back a little further to get a clearer look, he unwittingly stumbles into another rather troubling thing.

“You're not dressed.”

“...Well, I was gonna shower....” You mumble, letting your eyes drift off from embarrassment. You hear Jimin breathe out a snicker.

“Dirty girl.”

You narrow your gaze back at him, pouting your lips. “Why don't you show me how to work your fancy expensive shower then.”

He laughs. “It's just a bunch of knobs cherub, how hard can it be?”

“Do you even shower?” You ask back accusingly, hands coming up to rest on your hips.

At that, he cocks his head, stepping back with arms crossed and almost haughtily, “I do, in fact, I already did shower this morning. I'm a little offended you would accuse me of having poor hygiene.”

You copy his pose and sniff, “Sure could've fooled me.”

It's obvious what a lie that was because out of the two of you, anyone could tell with one glance which one is likely to smell more like vanilla and peaches (not you), but you can't help making it a habit to poke the tiger when it's asleep.

Sure enough, Jimin's mouth drops open, looking at you incredulously and an actual hint of mild offence. Then he puffs out a scoff, lips quirking up at the corner and suddenly you don't like that glint in his eyes. In a frighteningly calm manner, Jimin lowers his arms and then smiled serenely, only it came off more creepy than reassuring.

“Y/N ~ ....” He singsongs and as if the impending danger has heightened your senses, you see him subtly shift his weight and it's all you need to whip around and take off running, squealing as you go. Probably not the greatest idea since how the hell do you expect to outrun a demon but when you heard the sounds of his jovial laughing right behind you, you think at least some good came out of it.

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