#//but today is just the kind of day where your phone shatters

[deliciousangelfestival]

He's The Sweetest

Summary: After discovering his secret and coming to terms with it, she faces an even bigger challenge—dealing with her family.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Author Note : This is a second part of He's The Killer

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky sat in a dimly lit office, the tension thick as he faced his boss, Jake, who sat behind the desk. The room felt cold, sterile, just like the life he’d been living for years. Jake leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable as Bucky’s voice cut through the silence

“Accept my resignation,” Bucky said firmly.

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly not pleased. “It’s difficult to let you go. I’m serious.”

As if on cue, Bucky’s phone buzzed. He glanced down, his hardened expression softening ever so slightly as he read the message.

You: “Can Alpine stay at my place today? I have another panda toy for her.”

Bucky stared at the screen for a moment, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. He quickly replied, his thumb hovering awkwardly over the heart emoji before hitting send.

Bucky: “Of course. 💕”

He chuckled to himself—never in his life had he thought he’d use that emoji. But this was the first time you had offered to bring Alpine, his beloved cat, to your place. Why? A small knot of concern twisted in his chest.

His lighthearted moment shattered as he tapped into his surveillance feed from the secret lair in his apartment. His eyes widened. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

On the screen, he saw you standing in front of his hidden room, eyes wide with shock. His heart dropped. This was why he needed his retirement approved—quickly.

Taking a deep breath, his mind racing. His entire life had been a bleak mix of exhaustion, bitterness, and emptiness. He’d been a hitman for so long, it had swallowed him whole. The thrill, the violence—it used to be all he knew.

But that had started to change the day he found that baby panda.

It was during one of his missions—his target had been involved in the black market and owned a panda as a pet. Bucky remembered seeing the fluffy little creature, terrified and out of place, and for the first time in a long time, something had stirred in him.

He’d cradled the baby panda in his arms, its softness grounding him in a way nothing else had. He couldn’t leave it behind. After eliminating the target, he made sure the panda was sent to a sanctuary where it could be safe. That same panda had grown and was eventually sent to the zoo where it could be with others of its kind.

Since then, pandas had become more than just animals to him. They represented innocence, something he hadn’t felt in years. It had started with that baby panda and, unexpectedly, it had continued with you.

Meeting you had been a complete surprise. You were the first stranger who had ever willingly helped him. That day at the zoo, when you’d offered him your umbrella in the pouring rain—it wasn’t just an act of kindness, it was something more. You worked as a nurse, saving lives, the complete opposite of what he did. That contrast between your worlds fascinated him.

And now, you’d found his secret.

Jake’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You’re really not changing your mind, huh?” Jake said, leaning forward, his hands resting on the desk.

He started typing, his fingers flying across the keyboard. After a few moments, he pointed at the screen. “Here. Done. Everything’s erased.”

Bucky glanced at the screen, relief flooding him. "I’ll return the weapons," he added.

Jake shook his head with a dry laugh. “Keep 'em.”

“No,” Bucky replied, shaking his head, especially after the look of shock he’d seen on your face. “I’m done.”

Jake studied him for a long moment, leaning back in his chair again, arms crossed. “You’ve changed, man.”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I’ve decided to change.”

With a low whistle, Jake stood and offered his hand. “Well, congrats. You’ve graduated from an ice block into a normal human being.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he shook Jake’s hand.

Jake handed him a letter. “Here. With this, you can work as a contractor anywhere you want. Consider it a gift.”

Bucky took the letter, folding it neatly. “Thanks, Jake.”

With a final nod, Bucky turned to leave, his hand on the door. “Goodbye.”

“See you around, Barnes,” Jake called after him, his tone softer now.

Bucky walked out of the office, his mind already on you, on what you’d seen—and on how he was going to explain his life, his past, and everything he wanted to leave behind for you.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky made his way to your place, noticing how quiet the street was as he walked up to your building. When he reached your door, it seemed like no one was home. He frowned, but just as he was about to knock, your neighbor, the sweet elderly woman from down the hall, spotted him.

“Ah, James! How are you, dear?” she called out warmly, shuffling over with a small box in her hands. “Could you give this to your girlfriend? I made her a lemon cake. I heard she’s home.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. ‘So, you’re home?’ he thought, glancing back at your door. “Oh, thanks, Gladys,” he replied, accepting the box. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

The woman smiled, patting his arm. “Thanks to her for helping with my hip pain. She's a blessing.”

He nodded, offering her a kind smile. “Glad to help. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Turning back to your door, Bucky knocked softly, his heart pounding. “Y/N? Gladys made you a cake.”

There was silence for a moment before he heard soft footsteps approaching the door. It cracked open just slightly, and through the small gap, he could see you, holding Alpine in your arms. Your face was hesitant, guarded.

Bucky immediately sensed your fear. He felt a knot tighten in his chest, knowing he was the reason for it.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice low, trying to reassure you.

You didn’t reply right away, just staring at him with uncertainty.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asked gently, his hand still holding the box of cake. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

You hesitated for a moment longer, but then, with a small nod, you opened the door wider, stepping back to let him inside. You didn’t speak, still standing a few feet away from him, clutching Alpine to your chest as if she were a shield.

Bucky took a deep breath, setting the cake down on the counter. He turned to face you, his eyes soft but serious. “I know what you found,” he began. “The weapons, the surveillance… I need to explain.”

You stayed quiet, watching him closely, your grip on Alpine tightening.

“I used to be a hitman,” Bucky admitted, his voice steady. “For years, that’s what I did. I was… good at it. But it made my life empty, and I became someone I didn’t even recognize anymore.”

"Two years ago, I got hurt badly. I almost died." He paused, reflecting on the memory. "It was a miracle. Because a nurse didn't give up on saving me."

Your eyes widened slightly at the confirmation, but you didn’t move, just listening.

“After that, I didn’t want that life anymore. Even before I met you, I’d already started planning to retire,” Bucky continued, taking a step closer to you. “Meeting you… it just made me want to hurry up and leave it all behind. You were the first person who made me think I could actually be someone else.”

You shifted slightly, lowering your gaze to the floor for a moment, processing everything he was telling you.

“I get if you don’t want anything to do with me after this,” Bucky said quietly. “But I’m not that man anymore. I don’t want to be.”

There was a long pause before you finally spoke. “So… you’re retired now?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I’ve left that life behind for good. Everything’s been erased.”

You looked up at him, still holding Alpine close, but something in your expression softened. “That means… you could protect me, right?”

Bucky blinked, surprised by your question. “Protect you?”

You bit your lip, looking a bit sheepish. “I mean… it’s not like I need someone to, but… it’s kinda reassuring knowing you could, if anything ever happened.”

A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of Bucky’s lips. He took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “I’d never let anything happen to you,” he promised.

You finally smiled back, the tension in the room starting to dissolve. “I believe you.”

There was a moment of silence, but this time it wasn’t awkward or heavy. It was peaceful. You placed Alpine gently down on the couch and walked toward Bucky, resting your hand on his chest. “I guess that’s just another part of you I’ll have to get used to.”

Bucky exhaled, the weight of the conversation lifting off his shoulders. “Thank you… for understanding.”

You smiled, a bit shyly this time, and then you led him to the bedroom. The night was quiet, and as the two of you settled into bed, you rested your head on his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. It felt safe, comforting, like you were finally where you both belonged.

Alpine curled up at the foot of the bed, and Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his heart full in a way it hadn’t been for a long, long time.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, warming the room. You stirred slightly, still wrapped in Bucky’s arms, feeling a rare moment of peace. That is, until you heard the front door creak open, followed by your mother’s voice echoing from the kitchen.

“Y/N, honey! I brought some food for your fridge!”

Your heart dropped, and you shot up in bed, wide-eyed. 'Oh no. Mom's here. I'm not ready for this!' You frantically glanced around the room, then froze when you heard another voice—a second, more cheerful one.

“And we’re borrowing your bathroom!” your aunt chimed in from the hallway.

Your eyes widened even further. 'Damn it, Aunt Margaret too?' You turned to Bucky, who was still blissfully asleep beside you. Leaning over him, you shook his shoulder with urgency. “Wake up!”

Bucky blinked, still half-asleep, his brows furrowing as he mumbled, “Huh? What’s going on?”

Panic surged through you. You glanced toward the door and back at him. Without another word, you grabbed the blanket, quickly wrapping it around him as you began pushing him toward your wardrobe. “Just get in here!”

Still groggy, Bucky allowed himself to be shoved toward the wardrobe. “Are we under attack?” he muttered, half-dazed.

“Oh, it’s way worse,” you whispered harshly, yanking open the wardrobe door.

Bucky immediately tensed, his training kicking in. “Who?” His voice was low and serious now.

You glanced nervously toward the hallway. “My aunts.”

Bucky blinked, confused. “Your—”

Before he could say more, you stuffed him into the wardrobe, quickly closing the door. You ran a hand through your hair in frustration, throwing on a hoodie and rushing out of the bedroom.

In the kitchen, your mom, Sophie, was already busy rearranging food in your fridge, humming to herself as she worked. She turned when she heard your footsteps. “Oh, hi, sweetie. Hope you don’t mind me coming over. I brought some meals for the week.”

Behind her, Aunt Margaret stood with a small smile. “We didn’t want to bother you, but we need to use your bathroom real quick before heading to the spa. Hope that’s okay.”

You forced a smile, trying to stay calm. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Smile more, don’t be rude,” your mother reminded you, placing another container in the fridge.

“Mom, I just woke up,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes.

Suddenly, a sharp gasp came from behind you. “Oh my goodness, who’s this?” Aunt Margaret exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

Your stomach dropped again as you turned and ran back toward the bedroom. You barely made it through the door before you saw Margaret standing by the wardrobe. She had, of course, snooped her way in, and now she was staring wide-eyed at Bucky, who was still awkwardly wrapped in the blanket. His muscular arms were exposed, and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hello,” Bucky said, his voice deep but sheepish, as he pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

Your mom and Aunt Margaret were utterly speechless, their mouths hanging open as they took in the sight of him. Sophie blinked several times, trying to process what she was seeing. “Who… is this?” she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, feeling your face flush. “Uh… this is my boyfriend.”

Both your mom and Aunt Margaret gasped in unison. “Boyfriend?” they exclaimed, their eyes lighting up with disbelief and excitement.

“Oh my goodness!” your mom clapped her hands together. “You didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend!”

Margaret, still grinning, rushed toward Bucky, looking at him like he was the most exciting thing she’d seen in years. “We’re so happy for you, Y/N! And such a handsome one, too.”

Bucky, clearly out of his element, nodded politely. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a small, awkward smile.

Your mom, still beaming, clasped her hands together. “You both have to come to dinner on Sunday. The whole family will be there. We’d love to get to know him better.”

Bucky straightened up, still holding the blanket around him. “Of course, ma’am. I’d be happy to.”

After what felt like an eternity of pleasantries, your mom and Aunt Margaret finally left, their excitement palpable as they discussed plans for the evening family dinner. You closed the door behind them, letting out a long, exasperated breath.

Bucky emerged from the bedroom, running a hand through his hair. “So… dinner?”

You turned to him, shaking your head. “Prepare yourself, Bucky. It’s going to be dreadful.”

He gave you a puzzled look. “You don’t like family dinners?”

You sighed, sitting down on the couch. “It’s not that. It’s just… a lot.”

Bucky sat beside you, looking thoughtful. “I’ve never really done the whole family dinner thing,” he admitted quietly.

You glanced at him, surprised. “Never?”

He shook his head. “Nope. This is new territory for me.”

A small smile crept onto your face. “Well, get ready. My family doesn’t hold back.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand resting on yours. “Guess we’ll face it together then.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. “Yeah. Together.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It was a quiet Sunday evening when you and Bucky arrived at your family’s house for dinner. As soon as you stepped inside, all eyes turned toward Bucky. It was like he was some rare, exotic artifact on display. Every relative, from your cousins to your elderly aunts, stared at him with wide eyes and hushed whispers, as if they couldn’t believe you had brought someone with you, let alone someone like him.

Bucky, dressed neatly but clearly out of his comfort zone, politely nodded and shook hands as he was introduced to everyone. He kept his posture composed, but you could tell he was uneasy by the way he kept glancing at you, searching for some sort of reassurance.

At the dinner table, the seating was predictably divided—men on one side, women on the other. You sat with your mother, aunts, and cousins, while Bucky sat with the men, looking slightly out of place as they tried to make small talk. You caught his eye across the table, and he gave you a small smile, as if to say, I’ve got this.

But then, it happened. One of your nosier aunts, Aunt Margaret, leaned over to you with a curious glint in her eyes. “So, what does your boyfriend do for work?”

You took a breath, bracing yourself. “He’s a contractor,” you replied casually, hoping that would suffice.

Aunt Margaret wasn’t done. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Does he have a home?”

“Yes,” you said, your tone firm. “He has his own place.”

“Well, that’s good,” Aunt Margaret said with a sniff. “So much better than your father. He had a medical degree, but what good did it ever do him? Useless.”

You felt a sharp pang in your chest. Your father had always done what he could. He might not have used his degree, but he had made sure you had a roof over your head, food on the table, and your school tuition paid. When your mother needed surgery, he borrowed money to make it happen, and he paid it all back. In your eyes, he had been a good father, despite his flaws. But finding out about his infidelity at his funeral—that had shattered you.

Before you could respond, Aunt Margaret continued, oblivious to the hurt in your eyes. “Well, at least your future is secure now. You could just set the wedding date. The family has already met him, after all.”

You clenched your fists under the table. “Why is everyone so obsessed with me getting married? Are any of you planning to pay for it?”

Aunt Margaret looked taken aback. “It’s just—well, why wait? Especially at your age.”

You felt your temper rising. “If you’re not donating or paying for my wedding, you have no right to give me orders.”

Aunt Margaret gasped, her hand flying to her chest. She stood abruptly and left the table in a huff.

Your mother, always the peacemaker, leaned toward you. “Don’t be mad, sweetie. They only want the best for you.”

You let out a dry laugh. “The best for me? Mom, I’ve seen enough of the marriages in this family to be scared out of my mind. Maybe they just want to see if I’ll have a better marriage than they did.”

Your mom sighed softly. “You don’t know how it will be until you go through it.”

“Mom, please,” you said, shaking your head. “I know you want the best for me. But the one who will actually live the marriage is me, not them.”

Your voice softened as you continued, “I do want to get married. I want to be with the man I love, to stay by his side for the rest of my life. But I need to be sure it’s what I want, on my terms.”

Your aunt, having recovered from her earlier offense, decided to pipe up again. “Well, you’re not getting any younger. Why waste time?”

That was it. You snapped. “Almost all of you have been in terrible marriages! Domestic violence, cheating husbands—and him!”

You pointed across the table at your uncle, whose face turned a shade of red. “You’re the worst of all. You cheated on your wife while she was sick, stressed her so much it led to her getting breast cancer! While she was going through chemo, all she ever wanted was for you to apologize, and you couldn’t even do that. No wonder your kids hate you.”

The table went dead silent. Your uncle glared at you, but he couldn’t deny what you had said. The truth hung in the air like a dark cloud.

“You’re rude!” one of the other aunts muttered under her breath.

You let out a humorless laugh, throwing your hands up. “I’m the bad guy? Fine. It’s not a family gathering if there’s no drama, right?”

Your voice dropped, filled with contempt. “Look, even though we’re family, there are still boundaries. And you’ve crossed them.”

You could feel the tension in the room rise, but you weren’t done. Glancing at Bucky, who had been watching in silence, you reached for his hand, gripping it firmly. “Oh, and if anyone here thinks they can push my mom around, remember one thing.”

The entire table leaned in as you gave them a deadly serious look. “My boyfriend is a hitman.”

Everyone gasped, eyes widening as they looked between you and Bucky. Bucky himself seemed surprised, his eyes blinking as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said. He didn’t deny it, though, which only added to the shock.

You continued, undeterred. “I’ve seen his weapon collection. So if any of you think about messing with us—don’t.”

Your aunts and uncles exchanged nervous glances, clearly shaken. One by one, they started to gather their things, mumbling hurried excuses as they filed out of the house. Only your cousins lingered behind, giving you discreet thumbs up as they left, clearly impressed by your boldness.

As the last of them disappeared, you turned to Bucky, letting out a long breath. “Well, that went well.”

Bucky gave you an amused smile. “Guess I don’t have to return my weapons after all.”

You laughed, feeling lighter now that the tension had lifted. “Guess not. But I think we’ve officially scared them off for good.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You were amazing back there.”

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of victory. “Yeah, I was.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the dust settled from the family dinner, only three of you remained in the house: you, Bucky, and your mother. You felt the weight of the awkward silence pressing down, and when it was finally time to leave, you slipped into the car first, not ready to face your mom. You knew she would defend her sisters and brother, no matter what.

Through the window, you caught a glimpse of Sophie, your cousin, glancing your way. Her expression was a mix of concern and curiosity as she exchanged whispers with your mother. Sophie was aware of your feelings, but she had brushed them off, just as she always did. You had confided in her about your trauma, about how her mother's words had cut deep, yet she had chosen to ignore it. In that moment, you realized what you were holding in was like a ticking bomb, waiting for the right moment to explode.

Bucky noticed Sophie’s gaze and turned to her, curiosity etched on his face. “So, was it true what she said? Are you really a hitman?”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I used to be.”

Sophie was taken aback, her eyes widening slightly. “Well, I guess she likes strong men,” she said, forcing a nervous laugh that felt strained in the tense atmosphere.

“Ma'am, may I have your permission to marry your daughter?” Bucky asked, his tone respectful yet playful.

Sophie raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and delight crossing her face. “I won’t ask her now; I’ll wait until she’s calmed down. But I do need your consent.”

“Of course,” Sophie said with a genuine smile, her eyes softening. “I give you my blessing.”

As you drove back home, the tension in the car was palpable. You sighed heavily, breaking the silence. “Urgh. I’m so embarrassed.”

Bucky glanced at you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you show so many emotions.”

“No…,” you protested, feeling your cheeks flush with heat.

“I’m not kidding. Instead, I’m amazed,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Really?” you asked, a flicker of surprise igniting in your voice.

“Yes. In my former job, I used weapons to take out my targets. But you…” Bucky glanced at you with admiration. “You wield words like weapons. It’s not just a triple kill; I saw them lose it.”

His gaze held you captive, and you felt the truth of his words resonate deep within you. He would never put you on the edge; the ending was obvious: you would win the argument. “If you became a lawyer, you’d have a 100% success rate,” he added, grinning.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, feeling a warmth spread through you. “You know, the reason I was brave back there is that you were by my side.”

Bucky’s expression softened, and he reached out, holding your hand gently. “If you want me to,” he said, his voice low and steady, “I can make them disappear. Especially your uncle. Just say the word.”

His grip was reassuring, and for the first time since the dinner, you felt a flicker of safety amidst the chaos.

Bucky glanced over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "By the way, I’ve got an extra ticket to see the pandas. Want to go?"

Your face lit up immediately. "Of course!" you replied, barely able to contain your excitement, already picturing the fluffy pandas in your mind.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Extras:

In the stark, sterile environment of the emergency room two years ago, chaos reigned as doctors and nurses hustled to save a critical patient. The man lay on the gurney, his body battered and pale, a deep stab wound in his abdomen oozing crimson, soaking the sheets beneath him. His eyes were vacant, and the beeping monitors signaled a disheartening rhythm that reflected his fading pulse.

“Time of death,” the attending physician announced grimly, his voice heavy with the weight of finality.

“Y/N, stop it. He’s gone,” one nurse urged, her expression a mix of concern and resignation. She stepped back, crossing her arms tightly as if trying to shield herself from the painful reality.

“No. Let’s give it one more try,” you insisted, your heart racing with adrenaline and determination. You positioned yourself beside the patient, refusing to back down in the face of despair.

With steely resolve, you pressed your hands against his chest, starting compressions with calculated urgency. “Come on, just one more time,” you urged, your voice steady yet filled with hope, as if willing him to respond.

The seconds felt like an eternity, but suddenly, the monitor emitted a series of frantic beeps, and you felt a faint pulse beneath your fingers. “I’ve got it! I’ve got a pulse!” you shouted, your heart soaring with renewed hope.

A wave of relief washed over the room as the team rallied around you, working swiftly to stabilize him. You squeezed the patient’s hand, your grip firm and reassuring. “I’m glad you didn’t give up,” you murmured softly, your eyes locking onto his as a connection formed in that fleeting moment.

As the medical team continued their efforts, you noticed the scars etched into his skin—marks of battles fought and survived. Leaning closer, you brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart swelling with empathy. “You’ve been through a lot. Get some rest,” you whispered gently, a comforting smile breaking through your worry as you remained by his side, willing him to pull through.

The room, once filled with despair, now held a fragile glimmer of hope, and you knew that as long as you believed in his fight, miracles could still happen.

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[lovexdeepspace]

Hi ! Can you make a story where reader is not the mc and is in relationship with the boys who starts to act cold and indifferent bc of mc ? (i cant choose one i love all of them 😭)

summary; what happens when the l&ds boys have a run-in with the MC that changes everything.

warnings; angst, hurt, strained relations

note; my first request!! thank you so much for the love on my works, i’m so happy i can entertain with my writings!!

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

༊*·˚ xavier

you were curled up on xavier’s couch, engrossed in some cable drama that you had originally put on for background noise while you tidied. you didn’t even blink when the front door open and shut, signaling xavier’s arrival.

"how was work, xav?" you called, glancing over at him as he tossed his jacket onto the loveseat. you subconsciously leaned over as he approached the couch, your lips pursed as you awaited the usual ‘i missed you’ kiss that became a routine thing. however, he walked right by you and headed to the kitchen, eyes on his phone.

"it was fine," he responded absentmindedly, pocketing his phone and rummaging through the fridge. "i’m real tired, though. think i’m gonna head to bed early tonight."

you turned off the tv and stood, coming up behind him. your arms wrapped around his waist and you pressed your cheek to his back, sliding your hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"are you okay?" you murmured, giving him a comforting squeeze. "did something happen at work today?"

xavier shut the fridge and put his hands inside the pocket as well, over yours. "i’m okay. just tired is all."

he pulled your hands out of his pocket and turned to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling off to the bedroom. you frowned and wrote it off as a tough day, thinking it was just a once in a while thing.

until it became an every day sort of thing.

over time it grew more and more obvious that there was something else going on with xavier outside of work — he would come home later, his already kind of spotty communication became worse, and then the affectionate gestures became a chore to him.

you would try to hold his hand? oh, he needs to hold his phone or it's in his pocket suddenly. want a hug? expect one of those brief side-hugs. expecting a kiss? quick peck on the cheek at most.

it was heart-wrenching, watching the man who had loved you like you had hung the moon in the sky for years suddenly stop. the thoughts of where things had gone sour commanded your mind day and night, searching for the answer tirelessly. then, one day, the answer presented itself to you out of the blue.

or, rather, she presented herself to you.

you and xavier were spending a quiet (not by choice) morning in the cafe when a woman approached, calling xavier's name. you noticed the way he straightened and the way his eyes lit up before he quickly covered it up. your heart shattered but you swallowed the hurt, smiling at the woman as she looked between the two of you and introduced herself to you. xavier invited her to sit with you two and she accepted, allowing you front row seats to watch the man who was supposed to love you fall in love with someone else.

༊*·˚ rafayel

work had finished early today, leaving you the afternoon to do as you pleased. seeing as your last mission was located just a couple blocks from rafayel’s studio, you took it upon yourself to pick up some snacks from the cafè to surprise him since he had been working hard for days on end now.

with pastries in hand you walked up the pathway to the mo art studio, a skip in your step as your excitement became palpable. as you go to open the door it swings open for you, revealing not rafayel but a woman you’d never seen before. you faltered for a second as she brushed by you with a muttered apology, heading the way you came.

probably just some fan of his work, you thought to yourself as you headed inside. kicking off your shoes at the entryway, you head for the main room and find rafayel lounging on his couch. he sat upright once he noticed you, squaring his shoulders and forcing a grin.

“you’re here,” is all he said to you, a stark contrast to his usual witty comments on how you just couldn’t seem to stay away for long.

“work ended early, so i thought i’d bring you some snacks,” you replied, placing the paper bag on the coffee table as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the painting coming out?”

“fine,” he replied, digging into the bag and pulling out a tart. you waited for him to continue, to whine and complain about thomas or some media outlet being on his ass about something but nothing followed his curt response.

“so,” you drawled, filling the silence, “another fan found your address?”

rafayel’s brow furrowed and he swallowed before asking, “what do you mean?”

“the woman who left when i came,” you pointed out, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. “a fan of your art?”

rafayel shook his head, leaning back against his couch with a wistful smile. “oh, her? don’t worry about it, just a deepspace hunter looking into some things about my paintings.”

you wanted to not worry — truly you did — but something about the whole thing just didn’t sit right with you. despite the nagging feeling in your mind, you went to place your hand over rafayel’s so you could focus on something else. just as your pinky finger was about to interlock with his, he quickly pulled his hand onto his lap.

with a small nod, you stood and mumbled, “i’m gonna head home.”

you hoped that rafayel would say something — better yet do something — to get you to stay but no, he was off in his own little world, staring out the window at the sea. fighting back tears, you take your leave, slipping on your shoes and heading back towards the streets.

the sunny day was no longer warm and welcoming but hot and suffocating with your heart drowning in pain at the idea of the man you loved with all your being and more having someone else.

༊*·˚ zayne

things between you and zayne had always been kind of like a scale — some days it would lean to one side, some days the other.

he was stoic yet sweet, soft and caring in just the right moments. the times you were together were some of the most blissful times you could ever have imagined. just the right amount of intimacy, domesticity, and partnership that a relationship needed to blossom.

this would be outweighed, however, by the days straight without communication but you always chalked it up to his profession and never really had too much of an issue with how things went. you couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of stress that a doctor took on, especially in the day and age of wanderers. so, like a good partner would, you did all you could to be as supportive as possible in every way he needed.

from homemade lunches to silently holding him in your arms after a rough day, there was nobody better for him than you.

one morning after you had stayed the night, you woke up to a text from him asking if you could deliver his lunch that he’d left on the table. after sending a quick reply to assure him you’d swing by in a bit, you got out of bed and found some clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser for you.

soon after getting yourself together, you grabbed zayne’s lunch and packed one for yourself, deciding that it’d be nice to have a meal together in his office again since it had been some time since the last one. you enjoyed the brisk walk to the hospital, soaking up the early spring sun.

yvonne gave you a polite wave as you walked past the receptionist’s desk and down the hall towards zayne’s office. you knocked once before opening the door, stopping short as you noticed a woman sitting on the couch beside him.

“my bad, i didn’t know you had a patient,” you said with an awkward chuckle before holding up his lunch bag. “brought your —”

“just leave it on the desk,” zayne interrupted, nodding toward the desk in the corner. “thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” you replied, doing as asked. you stand there for a second longer and zayne cleared his throat, gesturing towards the door. “oh, sorry. i’ll, uh, see you later then?”

your statement switched to a question when zayne raised an eyebrow at you, quickly shutting down any confidence you had. with a curt nod you exited his office and left the hospital, mind clouded as you aimlessly wandered until you found yourself at the park. sitting on a bench you took out your lunch and began to eat until you couldn’t stomach anything anymore with the image of zayne and the woman on the couch burned into your mind.

the way they were shoulder to shoulder; her hand centimeters from his knee; his eyes, usually icy and reserved, looking at her with a sickening fondness that you only saw from time to time; the way he addressed you not as a partner, but as someone who had intruded on something so important to him.

the way he was smitten, fallen in a way you had never seen in the year and some change you’d been together.

[yournowheregirl]

@eddiemonth day 4: rejection

rating: T | wc: 913 | cw: hurt/comfort, general & UD related anxiety, hoh!Steve, pre-Steddie

Eddie flops down on his bed with a load groan.

He blindly reaches for a pillow and once he’s found one, he uses it to muffle his screams. It barely dampens the sound, but he's home alone anyway. He screams and screams until his throat starts to hurt and the tears he tried so hard to ignore, finally well up in his eyes.

Another rejection.

Another place that didn't want to hire him.

Even with all the strings Hopper and those government guys had pulled to clear his name, Eddie can't escape his brand-new reputation of local satanist and serial killer. There was a press conference and everything, and a personal apology from the police department, but it still wasn't enough to sway the public's opinion of him.

But he has to get a job, like yesterday. They'll run out of that government money sooner or later and he can't expect Wayne to continue cleaning up his mess. Wayne's done enough of that already.

Eddie's tried almost every place in town. His first instinct was the record store and the garage, because that's what where his interests and experience lie. They turned him away as soon as he came in to drop off his resume.

When he told his friends about his job search, Steve immediately offered to put a good word in for him at Family Video. Robin would ask their parents if they knew about any job openings and Nancy would do the same, though she'd avoid Eddie's name while talking to her father. Gareth, Jeff and Frank suggested he'd ask for a job at The Hideout, while Jonathan and Argyle suggested the local pizza place, because of course they would.

None of those jobs ever got back to him.

Today was one of his last resorts. The diner on the other side of town had an opening for a dishwasher. Not exactly the kind of job Eddie wanted, but it meant keeping a low profile and it would pay the bills. He'd take the job in a heartbeat, but the restaurant manager took one good look at him and sent him away before she even took one good look at his resume.

"We don't hire murderers." She'd sneered.

Any other day, Eddie would've maybe stand up for himself, made a whole scene, maybe even called the cops to prove his innocence yet again. But he was so burnt out from rejection after rejection, that he just shrugged, got into his van and drove all the way back home.

Even though the screaming helped a little, Eddie can still feel his mind buzzing, thoughts of anxiety swirling around and threatening to swallow him whole if he doesn't do something quick. He rolls off the bed, put whatever tape he can get his hands on into his boombox and turns up the volume to the loudest setting.

Other people might listen to soothing music to calm down, but Eddie needs the loudest, most aggressive music to drown out the thoughts in his head. The thoughts of never getting a job and leaving it up to Wayne to pick up the pieces, driving him to work harder and longer, until his brittle body can't take it anymore. Thoughts of losing their home again, being forced to call Rick again

It's all his fault. Everything is his fault.

Tears slowly roll down his cheeks as the music continues playing, so loud that he doesn't hear Wayne coming home. So loud that he doesn't hear Wayne picking up the phone to call someone. So loud that he doesn't hear the knock on his bedroom door twenty minutes later.

It's not until his bedroom goes completely quiet that Eddie finally notices he's not alone. For a second he thinks it's Wayne, but when he hears a muffled "oh thank God" from the other side of the trailer, he realizes that it must be someone else.

"Y'know, if you were so jealous of my new accessories, you could've just said so. No reason to shatter your eardrums like this." Steve says with a teasing grin. The sunlight reflects on the hearing aids he'd gotten a few months ago and of course, he pulls it off like he's a goddamn Calvin Klein model.

"Sorry."

Eddie's voice is small, barely recognizable to his own ears and Steve immediately picks up on it. His teasing smile fades away as he walks over to the bed and sit down next to Eddie. He shuffles around a bit to find a comfortable seat against the headboard and pats his lap.

Completely drained from his terrible day, Eddie doesn't even try to fight it and cuddles up next to Steve. He rests his head in Steve's lap and lets out a sigh of relief when Steve's hands find their way to his scalp.

"What's going on?" Steve asks softly.

"Another fucking job didn't want me." Eddie mutters against the fabric of his polo.

Steve hums in acknowledgement. "I'm sorry. You wanna talk about it or do you want some quiet time?"

"Quiet, please."

"Alright."

See, with Steve around, Eddie doesn't need the music to drown out his bad thoughts. They float away on their own as soon as Steve cuddles with him and starts massaging his scalp. Or, on other occasions, they float away when Steve distracts him by talking about Robin's hopeless love life.

Steve being there for him just helps, in general.

Eddie doesn't wanna look into that realization too much.

[leonw4nter]

been obsessed with ur fics relating to Taylor’s songs 🥺 can u do one with ‘sl/t’? Just a good ole fluffy fic.

My Cuddly Eldritch Boyfriend!

Eldritch Horror!RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

“Ah yes, my human female companion, I believe I am required to inform you of my whereabouts for today. Since we have run out of the minuscule jar of the chocolate-hazelnut spread you quite enjoy consuming with sliced bread, I had to leave our shared den and purchase some for you. It appears that I have underestimated the price of such delicacy for the bills I have pocketed fell short of a few more dollars,” your boyfriend Leon happily recounted as he showed you the large tub of sandwich spread that he bought earlier today. “Boyfriend”, rather, if he can be considered that.

Leon waltzed into your life quite interestingly, a little more differently than most boyfriends do in the lives of others who have them. You were trapped in an unhappy relationship, the kind where you had to beg to be shown affection and got scolded for buying yourself little goodies like a funny little pond jewelry dish. He was always on his gaming computer or out with his buddies for beer and snacks, yelling at you over the phone whenever you refused to lend him more money. You went home one evening, after a draining workday, to see your “boyfriend” quietly cleaning around the house and stopping to greet you good evening and ask you about your day. It’s quite the contrast to go from an “annoying clingy hoe” to “human female companion” but the latter is leagues better than the other words hurled at you. Leon isn’t even the name of your former boyfriend, wherever he is now; this replacement simply decided to name himself. You know you should be looking for your former partner, wherever he is, but you don’t want to. You’re more than happy with Leon and you wouldn’t want another undeserving girl to fall into the suffocating clutches of your ex.

“A lady has also offered me a small slice of processed meat– a sausage, it is called. Seasoned pork meat rolled into logs, a cut skewered into an infinitesimally slim stake referred to as ‘toothpick’. It is quite delectable, I must admit, but I haven’t any payment in my pockets so I had to politely decline her offer,” he continues recalling. You take out your phone and google a word: “infinitesimally”. This is another of the changes you noticed with your boyfriend: his lexicomane speech; you would never hear words the likes of ‘infinitesimally’ and ‘minuscule’ from him, intelligent phraseology is not in his vocabulary. A few days after the swap of boyfriends, you found yourself having to install a dictionary app on your phone in order to keep up with his sesquipedalian use of words and engage in conversation. You smile, finally spotting the definition of the word: extremely small.

“That’s great, Leon. We still have some sausage in the freezer, though, so I think it’s only right that you didn’t get some coz we might’ve ended up with far too much,” you respond as you set your phone down on the counter. “What brand was it though? I might pick that up for you next time around when I go for groceries.”

“Hm,” he hums in thought.

His human appearance appears to slightly glitch as he delves deeper into his recollections of the day earlier; he appears to have a chromatic aberration, multiple shadows of his head moving about and twitching around in smoky wisps, as several muffled voices of ancient chanting begin to grow a little bit more noticeable in volume. You grow worried yet you stay seated on your chair, carefully observing Leon before anything too out of control and mind-shattering occurs. Thankfully, he finally manages to remember before the voices get too overwhelming for your human mind.

“I believe it was called ‘MorningStar’,” he finally says. He falls silent, head tilting as his face grows expressionless. “Are you alright, girlfriend?”

He steps closer and sits in front of you, back straight and hands in his lap as he continues to observe you thoughtfully, the gears in his head turning to determine how to approach you.

“Oh, yes, Leon. Don’t worry, just zoned out a little. That’s all,” you respond with a forced smile that doesn’t convince him entirely.

“Have you finally observed that I have left the bathroom light bulb switched on during the entirety that I was out purchasing goods to consume?” he quietly asks, voice laced with guilt and shame as he looks at you with something akin to puppy-dog eyes; you didn’t know that eldritch horrors are capable of giving puppy-dog eyes. “I apologize with utmost remorse, my human female mate. In my haste to please you, I have overlooked a step in securing your household utilities.”

You wonder what is the connection between his previous concern for you and the most recent sentence he just uttered then it occurred to you that he wanted to delay admitting to  you that he forgot to switch off the lights; Leon must’ve also forgotten that humans don’t have the level of perception as whatever his kind has, or maybe he assumed that you and you alone possessed that ability. You never would have known if he didn’t bring it up to you. It is funny to see this eldritch being that was clearly trying to pass off as human, as if you had the power of the universe in your palm and could so easily kick him out into the streets, a look on his face now reminiscent of a kicked puppy. It appeared as if he shrank into his olive green sweater, hiding into the warm and dark depths that the piece of clothing offered. Now his ashamed aura was seeping into you, making you feel a slight tinge of what he’s feeling.

“Leon, it’s fine, okay? We’re still in one piece and nothing too bad happened. Besides, I have enough money to comfortably pay off utility expenses so there’s nothing much to worry about,” you reassure him with a gentle hand to his firm shoulder, feeling the spot unwind from the tension beneath your warm palm. “That happens to me too and I get frustrated sometimes but now I just laugh at it.”

He lights up again and that aura of despair fizzles away lickety-split. He beams again, a little too widely for what could be considered normal. He continues rambling on about sausages before asking you about your workday and leaning in to listen intently; you talk and talk, he sits and devotes all his attention to you and answers too, from time to time. He’s a lot more engaging and present when it comes to talking about yourself than your former boyfriend; all he’d talk about is himself and how you’re lucky he loves you, the occasional comparison to other girls. When you’re finally finished talking about your day, it’s Leon's turn to talk about his.

You don’t want to tell him that he’s not perfect on trying to pass off as another ordinary human being– he still tends to unhinge his jaw when he gets excited, his form glitches when he’s deep in thought, he refers to you as ‘human female mate’ or ‘human female companion’ or simply ‘girlfriend’ though in a manner free of offensive intentions, he likes to change the shades of his blue irises, and his verbose vocabulary. Other than the multiloquent manner that he converses in, no one seems to pick up on the irregularity of his physical form, not even when there’s faint shadows of his head fluctuating when he thinks; surely he’s travelling to universes beyond human comprehension just to figure out an answer to “what’d you think of the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie?”. You guess that he’s conjuring some form of illusion that mask slip-ups in his form but why this doesn’t apply to you, you’re not exactly sure but you don’t plan on telling him his lapses; you’re perfectly content with him cooling up your drink with his hand alone in a matter of seconds when you’re out together. He’s far from perfecting the image of a totally human boyfriend but you’re slightly positive that he’s the most perfect lover.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“I would like to relish in the amusement of motion pictures with sound alongside you on our couch,” Leon expresses in mild emotion though he seems quite eager to watch movies, just phrased in a more archaic fashion.

“Me too” you respond with a small giggle at his unintentionally goofy personality. “Got a movie in mind?”

“Movie? Ah, yes. The moving images,” he recalls. “I have overheard this title from a young couple I happened to share a bus with, Kate and Leopold, they said. Appertaining to this hearsay statement, it must be a picture that thoroughly imprints itself on the heart and mind.”

“Kate and Leopold?” you say out loud and he nods. “Sure, why not. C’mon let’s head to the living room.”

“Of course,” he responds with an enthusiastic smile as he gets up from his dining room chair and quietly pushes it back before trailing behind you like the lovecraftian horror puppy that he is.

You put on the movie, both settling into a comfortable silence, attention centered on the film on your TV. In the middle of the film, you realize how you are quite near to him yet he does not make advances to touch you as he appears content with your shoulders touching. You sit up, inching closer to his side yet you don’t make this all simultaneous as you don’t want to shock him into discomfort. Much to your pleasant amazement, he not-so-subtly extends his arm behind your neck and rests it there. You look at his head and his face is still trained on Leopold chasing the snatcher, though the tips of his ears are dusted with a faint bloom of pink; who knew that cosmic beings could blush. Now slightly more confident, he slowly tries to urge you closer to the warmth of his side though he’s now hesitant with his actions. You snuggle closer to his side and now his hand is comfortably resting on the side of your arm where his silvery touch sends a flurry of tingles. Leopold and Kate are now sharing a kiss on a rooftop after a waltz to which your heart nearly goes into overdrive; Leon is not faring any better, visibly red-faced and overcome with butterflies that press up against his lungs (if he has any), making breathing feel a little funny. You wonder if he’s mentally replacing the characters with you and him and the image makes him feel madly excited.

“Leon, are you cold?” you ask towards the movie’s nearing end.

“No, but are you?” he counters, turning to face you now.

“Kinda.”

“Would you like me to fetch some for you?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can get it myself–”

Something heavy and weighted and fuzzy envelopes you from the chest down, placed down by the man beside you.

“What’s this?” you ask in a slightly raised voice.

“A blanket,” he responds in a nonchalant manner.

“Why is it so heavy? I know weighted blankets exist but this one’s a little heavier than what I’m used to…”

“It’s bear fur.”

You fall silent, staring down at the brown fur mass laid above your body before staring back up at him, silently asking if this is his form of a prank. Unfortunately, he is serious about this.

“Um… Leon, I appreciate the blanket but I generally prefer faux fur to actual animal-sourced fur. It’s, you know, more wildlife friendly… yeah, um…”

You need not to say more when the blanket is still brown but is now clearly made of faux fur, having changed it right away without arguments or insults hurled at you. He seems satisfied with his service, adjusting the blanket to cover you up properly without obstructing your view of the movie. You offer to share the blanket but he objects, tomato-faced as he stutters his apology.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The movie is finished and he smiles, remarking on how the couple was correct about their opinions and recounting some of the lines that stuck to him. He seemed to especially adore the portion where Kate is enchanted by the sight of Leopold on horseback, most excitedly analyzing the scene and going into detail about the look of love and the twinkle of Kate’s eyes before sighing dreamily.

“I wish to one day flawlessly emulate the depth of emotion she captured with only both her eyes, though I am well-aware that this is all expert acting. It would be my pleasure to one day look at you with such adoration as you tell me tales for there is nothing more that I desire than to enlighten you about the boundless worship that I present to you,” he wistfully conveys as he watches you walk around the bedroom before settling down to lay beside him.

You softly giggle, biting your lip as his voice bounces off in the walls of your mind and plays over and over again.

“Thank you. You’re doing a great job at that already honey,” you sincerely respond to him as you slip under the sheets and get snug.

“Your welcome,” he softly murmurs as a dopey smile points the corners of his lips skyward.

You ask if you can switch the bedside lamp off and he nods, the darkness of the room taking over as your eyes adjust to the lack of light. You lay still and silent before quietly wishing him a good night and restful sleep, to which he returns before he shifts and faces his back to you. Sometime in the middle of the night Leon awakens to the warmth and weight of your head and arms on his chest, the sight of you causing a human warmth to bloom where a human heart would be. You are peaceful and delicate, basking in the warmth that his form offered; the fact that you sought him out in your sleep made him feel loved, a feeling he didn’t know he’d grow to constantly crave. He pulls you closer and delicately wraps his arms around you in a protective embrace, a soft purr humming from his chest– an actual purr, like a cat’s. He strokes your hair with a silvery touch, daintily patting strands as he thinks about the fragility of his human and how he’d need to be very careful with them. His silky hands cause you to drift between the world of sleep and waking consciousness, growing more aware of his purr. You’re not new to his purring; he purrs when you two hold hands while running errands together, he purrs when you refer to him as your boyfriend to other people, he purrs when he finds out that you bought him a snack he likes. He has yet to discover that humans do not and cannot purr, that’s why you aren’t returning his physical display of contentedness but he’s satisfied that you’re letting him hold you like this. You don’t mind his purring at all and you’re firm on the decision that you love him and that he loves you back.

NOTE - First off, thank you to the anon who requested this!! I hope this one reached your expectations, even if I did put a little twist to it :)) guys... I think we're back!!! coz I decided to start on this last night at around 11:30 PM and I rlly had my creative juices flowing, like it just occured to me so clearly so now ig I'm going to start quite late into the evening if I'm going to start something new :D this fic is inspired by the eldritch horror boyfriend prompts that I came across on TikTok and also bc I felt like writing Leon rlly poetic and soft tonightt teehee :3 That's it and and I hope you really enjoyed this fic :)) Thank you for reading my works!!!!!!!!!! I <3333 UUUUUU!!!!!!!!!

The dainty chain dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[elryuse]

Omg I love your yandere stuff, I would like to request some yandere seoyeon from triple s

NOBODY BUT ME

Yandere Seoyeon (TripleS) X Male Reader

Seoyeon's POV

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Y/n's smile, meant for everyone during our class presentation, felt like a spotlight burning straight into my soul. Today, I practiced confessing a million times in the mirror, but the words still felt like clumsy birds, refusing to take flight in front of him.

Later, after practice, I practically ran to Xinyu, our TripleS dorm room a whirlwind of scattered clothes as I changed. "Xinyu, Xinyu! I need your help!"

Xinyu, ever the reliable friend, looked up from her phone. "Whoa, slow down, Seoyeon. What's wrong?"

"It's Y/n! I need to tell him how I feel, but I'm scared he won't like me back." Tears welled up in my eyes.

Xinyu squeezed my hand. "Hey, Seoyeon, you're TripleS's Seoyeon! He'd be lucky to have you. Here's what we'll do. How about I get to know him better, then create an opportunity for you two?"

Relief washed over me. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Absolutely! Now, spill the details about him."

The next few days were a blur of stolen glances at Y/n and Xinyu's enthusiastic reports of their "study sessions" at the library. A flicker of unease ignited in my chest, but I pushed it down. Xinyu was my friend, and she was just helping.

Then, one evening, Xinyu burst into our room, her eyes wide. "Seoyeon, you won't believe it! Y/n and I almost kissed!"

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. My breath hitched, and a cold dread seeped into my bones. "Almost kissed? What do you mean 'almost kissed'?"

Xinyu's smile faltered. "It was just a moment, Seoyeon. Honestly, I think he likes you more."

But the seed of doubt was sown. Images of Xinyu, my best friend, and Y/n, my love, flashed before my eyes, a horrifying kaleidoscope. The love I felt for Y/n morphed, twisted by jealousy and possessiveness. He was mine, only mine.

That night, I dreamt of a world painted crimson, where Xinyu was a fragile doll, her porcelain mask shattered. I woke up with a gasp, a newfound resolve hardening my heart.

The next day, I cornered Xinyu in the practice room. The fear in her eyes when she saw the glint in mine was delicious. Her apology was a whimper, lost in the roar of my own voice.

"Y/n is mine, Xinyu. And if anyone tries to take him from me..." My voice trailed off, but the unspoken threat hung heavy in the air.

Later that day, I found Y/n alone on the rooftop. The city stretched out beneath us, a glittering tapestry of indifference. Tears streamed down my face as I confessed my love, a torrent of words laced with a terrifying intensity that left him speechless.

Seizing his moment of stunned silence, I leaned in and kissed him. It was a kiss that tasted of desperation and a kind of love that was all-consuming and suffocating.

As we pulled apart, Y/n's eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and something else I couldn't decipher. But in that moment, it didn't matter. He was mine, and no one, not even Xinyu, would ever take him away from me.

The kiss was a dam breaking within me. The possessiveness that had been simmering beneath the surface erupted into a blazing inferno. Y/n was speechless, his surprise a mixture of confusion and something else I desperately hoped was reciprocation.

"I love you, Y/n," I blurted out, the words tumbling over each other in a rush. "You have no idea how much."

He didn't reply, his gaze flickering between me and the approaching figure of Xinyu. Her smile faltered slightly as she neared us, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Seoyeon? Everything alright here?"

I squeezed Y/n's hand a little too tightly, my voice strained. "We're just... catching up," I said.

Xinyu's smile vanished completely. "Oh," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Well, I'll just... leave you two to it then."

She turned to walk away, but before she could take a step, I lunged forward. My intention was to steal another kiss, to assert my dominance, but Y/n surprised me. He gently placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Seoyeon," he said, his voice laced with concern. "Look, I appreciate your feelings, but-"

His words were cut short by the sound of my choked sob. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "Don't you like me, Y/n?" I hiccuped. "Xinyu said-"

"Xinyu?" He frowned. "We were just studying together. Seoyeon, I—"

"Because you like her, don't you?" I wailed, my possessiveness twisting into a heartbreaking insecurity.

Y/n sighed, his eyes filled with a warmth that melted the ice around my heart. "No, Seoyeon," he said softly. "You're the one who makes me nervous, the one who makes my heart race."

He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away my tears. "I do care about you, Seoyeon. But maybe not in the way you want me to."

A flicker of disappointment flickered through me, but it was quickly extinguished by the sincerity in his eyes. "Then how?" I whispered, a sliver of hope peeking through the cracks of my despair.

He smiled, a gentle, understanding smile. "Like a friend, Seoyeon. A very special friend. You're funny, talented, and kind. And maybe, just maybe, if we take things slow..."

A blush crept up my cheeks as he leaned in, his voice barely a murmur. "We could see where this goes."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, but this time in a wonderful way. Maybe having Y/n in my life as a friend was the best place to start after all. Besides if I got closer to him, I might just finally have him under my fingertips. Soon he will be mine. And There would be nobody who can stop itit.

The End

[augustinewrites]

reo flower shop au pt 2! i’m gonna make this a series i love it so much

your little flower shop is strategically settled in one of the trendiest areas in tokyo. it’s a smart spot, one that men like reo can appreciate because it was his shop too. 

with today being the shop’s grand opening, he can’t help but reflect on the last year and a half.

when the space had first gone up for sale under the mikage real estate corporation, he’d been ecstatic. not only was it aesthetically pleasing, with beautiful floor to ceiling double-paned windows (the sexiest kind) and gorgeous marble floors, but the businessman in him saw nothing but the revenue that could be gained from office workers sucking up to their bosses to eager romantics trying to impress their dates. 

when he’d shown you the listing, your first concern had been the price. it was steep, even with the generous family discount he’d tacked on. he couldn’t understand why you, with all your moral conviction, had refused to just let him buy it for you. he was just trying to be a good husband!

so after nearly three months of trying and failing, he’d finally won you over the way ‘businessman reo’ (as nagi called him) would. with a nice dinner, some drinks, and a good ol’ fashioned negotiation. he won’t go into details, but he was so good that by the end of it you were practically eating out of his hand–

“reo!”

he immediately abandons his secret project. “coming, babe!” 

you’re down on your knees in the back room, using a folded up cloth to carefully sweep up the shattered remains of a vase. 

“it just slipped out of my hands,” you mutter as he takes the cloth, helping you stand. he quickly grabs a broom, sweeping out and disposing of the broken glass. 

if he didn’t know you like he did, it’d be easy to miss the tenseness in your shoulders and the worry in your eyes as you glance at the time on your watch. 

“baby, it’s okay. it’s only one vase.”

“i know,” you sigh, wiping your hands on your apron before pressing them to your cheeks. “i’m just– i’m freaking out a little, reo.” 

while he had taken charge of turning the rented space into an official business, securing permits, licenses, and setting up bank accounts, you’d focused on turning the business into a proper flower shop. you researched greenhouses and coolers and delivery trucks. you weighed the shop’s budget against what you wanted to charge for individual flowers and arrangements. 

he’d watched you worry yourself in circles about a lot of things for the past year and a half, and he’s gotten pretty good at bringing you back down to earth. 

“hey, whatever happens today, we will be on top of it. ‘cause we’re a great team. ” he assures you. “remember when isagi tripped and put a hole through the wall? we yelled at him together and then realized we could make built-in wall buckets for the flower bar to save space.” 

he presses a kiss to your forehead when the memory makes you laugh, smiling against your skin. “and we’re going to have a great opening day because i posted the picture of kunigami on all our socials.”

you pull back to look up at him, brows raised. “the one where he’s just wearing an apron and holding a bouquet of flowers?”  

“that’s the– wait, what are you getting your phone out for?” 

“i need to see this picture!” 

“no, no,” he laughs nervously, taking your phone and stuffing it into his pocket. he’s not going to let you look at the promotional thirst trap. “what you need to see is your surprise gift for opening day.” 

he takes your hand and leads you to the front counter, where he proudly presents you with a bouquet of peonies.

“reo,” you breathe, cradling the blooms fondly. “they’re beautiful. thank you.”

“i’m glad you like them.” he grins proudly. he’d even wrapped them with a bow (with half a roll of tape underneath the silk ribbon, but baby steps). “i chose peonies because the symbolize good luck and cushioned them with silver dollar eucalyptus from the—”

“reo mikage, if you say they’re from our flower bar…”

“don’t worry, i put money in the register,” he promises with a wink, arms encircling your waist. “i like that, by the way.”

you glance up at him curiously. “like what?”

“you called it our flower bar.” 

“well, it is our shop. we’re small business owners.” 

“since we’re the owners, i guess that means i can do this–” he gently cups the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss just as the bells on the front door jingle.

“whoa, how much for that kind of service?” 

reo laughs when you jerk back, only to hide your face in his shirt. “shut it, nagi.”

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Kim Dokja headcanons with fem!reader who is a writer

These headcanons are dedicated to my friend @d10nsaint who recommended me this webtoon series to me when I had nothing else to read lol. Enjoy! :)

Prior to the apocalypse, Kim Dokja was neither a social butterfly nor a likable person on Minosoft’s Q and A team. Most people avoided him, and he liked to keep a low profile so he could read his webnovels in peace. 

It was a perfect, quiet routine for a contract worker like himself  until the arrival of a new junior shattered it all. [First Name] [Last Name], recently transferred from the company’s [Country] branch to HQ. And she was assigned to work under him. 

Not only was the junior a quick learner, but she was also very good-looking. Kim Dokja might be a reader at heart, he wasn’t a blind fool to not notice her. She was definitely on her way to becoming the next Yoo Sangah in the company: charming, kind, and willingly to stay late to help the team finish up any assignments for the next meeting. 

He definitely did not have a chance with someone like them. At least that was what he had thought until he looked over in her cubicle to go over some paperwork when he saw the artwork of a web novel on her computer but she wasn't there. 

SOMEONE ELSE BESIDES HIM READ WEBNOVELS?! The man was stunned to say the least. However, right now he could not afford to look like a weirdo with the CEO making random rounds to each department today. So, like the gentleman he is, he placed the documents on your desk and went right back to work. 

But he kept an eye on her…in a non-creepy way of course! It was just….hard  for him to make conversation with someone. It definitely took Kim Dokja a few times to ask [First Name] if they would be interested in going to get a bite to eat on the way home from a particularly tiring day in the office. 

To his surprise and delight, she accepted. It was nothing fancy, just a food stall. When he saw that her phone screen was opened up to the newest chapter of Three Ways of Survival he couldn’t help but blurt out that it was a mind-blowing twist to the story. 

[First Name]'s reaction to his words was stunned silence, followed by them asking him that he’s read the novel too with a starry look in her eyes. 

After that, Kim Dokja and [First Name] exchanged numbers. While at Minosoft,  the two of them worked together and remained professional. If one or the other were invited to drinks, they’d follow them. Nothing too odd to raise any alarms, just casual banter that even made a few of the other employees raise her eyebrows.

It was a whole different story when they were off the clock though. 

The two of them either went out somewhere, or just spent a good chunk of the evening texting each other web novel recommendations or their thoughts on the latest chapter of TWSA.

Kim Dokja thought he knew everything about his growing crush on [First Name] until she shyly dropped another startling revelation on him just a year after discovering that they loved reading as much as he did: [First Name] [Last Name] was a web novel writer.

Not only that, but her work was something he’d recently started to read when tls123 went on a brief hiatus due to health issues. 

Seriously, how could someone be so perfect in his eyes?!

Naturally, he read [First Name]’s work and gave her honest feedback on the plot’s progression, the characters, any and everything that would make her grin from ear to ear or hum in contemplation about where she could improve. 

He has the honor of reading her rough drafts before she published it online. Not going to lie, some of his ideas came from his favorite web novel. But [First Name] deeply appreciated his help and often thanked him for his support, especially when she was hit with writer’s block.

It took Kim Dokja another six months before he worked up the courage to ask [First Name] out on a date. He was terrified, fearing that he might lose his only friend…but seeing the bright red hue on  [First Name]’s face and hearing her stutter that she would be delighted to go out with him as more than a co-worker and a friend made his heart skip a beat.

She….she really…liked him too, huh? That’s…great. No, it was more than great. This is probably one of the happiest memories he still kept close to his heart: knowing that he loved someone, and she loved him back.

And now, no matter what happened in these scenarios, he would protect and provide for [First Name]. She was precious to him, and she gladly reciprocated that same devotion and love with no strings attached or scheming. 

It still warmed his heart to see her cuddle with Gil-Yeong and Shin Yu-Seong late at night or work with the rest of his party to ensure that everyone was prepared for what lay ahead next. 

He also took secret, sadistic delight in seeing his significant other win arguments against Han Sooyoung, especially about stories or writing. 

No matter what she said, a plagiarist is still a plagiarist even if people said that SSSSSS-Grade Infinite Regressor is superior to Three Ways of Survival in every way.

.

[lace-coffin]

HII!! Dude I wanna marry your writing like ?? 😍🥹 but could I possibly get a nsfw thing with a male reader x asa Emory, but the male reader refuses to do anything and just keeps messing a lot of stuff up and like causes a lot of trouble for asa and almost kills one of his bugs (on accident)? And they kind of just go and hide until Asa finally finds them and catches them for punishment ?

How would Asa Emory punish a bratty s/o for hiding from punishment? (Nsfw)

Asa Emory x Bratty!Male!reader

(Reader can be read as cis or trans/gnc!)

Requests are open!

(I typically try to get to requests in a few days to a week <3)

Thank you so much for the kind words! I really appreciate it and I hope u enjoy this! Mwah!

Tw for power dynamics/power exchange, spiders, sexual content, sub/dom, general asa emory stuff

You were really getting on Asa’s last nerve and that was even before today. He loved you, he did, cherished you even, you’re his special little pet, but man were you on thin ice recently.

Recently you seemed hellbent on causing as many issues as you can for asa, being incredibly stubborn about even the most basic orders, at this rate Asa swears he’s going to burst a blood vessel. He’d only asked you to clean up after yourself, dumbly he left you alone in the kitchen under the guise of making a quick snack (well not completely alone, the camera’s were always watching, easy for Asa flip up on his phone and check in on you)

Unsurprisingly Asa came back to a mess, it was probably naive on his part to even allow you to prepare food on your own with the way you’ve been acting up recently, but really?

“Think I messed up the instructions, my bad” you drawl lazily as your head is hung over the back of one of the dining room chairs. Behind you in the kitchenette area the microwave has been left wide open, the inside looking worse for ware and that’s being kind. Food is splattered and stuck to every surface inside the microwave from where it burst, the ‘food’ in question (calling this abomination “food” is generous) lays burnt and smoking, somehow still frozen on the inside and burnt on the outside.

“What the hell did you do?” Asa lets out a defeated sigh, pinching the bridge of his slightly hooked nose.“I’ll make you a snack ok? Just clean the mess first, pet.” You finally look over his way, eyes meeting his dark ones, challenging in a way you know will rile him up. “I don’t think I will..” you respond feigning nonchalance. In reality you can already practically feel the wave of excitement teeming under your skin, knowing how much trouble you’re going to be in.

It seems counterintuitive really, you’re here under your master and things go well if you behave for him yet you deliberately wind him up until he boils over and leaves you sore and breathless. You never were one to have conformist tastes you guess.

Asa clenches as unclenches his fists a few times before continuing. “Clean this up now. I’m not sure why you thought that was a request and not an order, maybe your stupid puppy brain can’t comprehend it. Clean it now and do it properly or come here so I can show you what happens when you’re being a brat. Regardless you’re cleaning it one way or another so you may aswell choose to be a good boy.” Asa tries to keep a level head, despite your best efforts to infuriate him.

The room hangs in silence again as you continue to stare him down, dumb bratty smile painted on your face, oh he’s going to hate this. You can’t wait.

Instead of gracing him with a response you bolt, not unlike his tarantulas when startled.

You almost can’t hear the pissed of rumble he lets out over the sound of your own laughter, skidding down the hallway and around corners. This becomes a lot less amusing as you crash into the ornate dark stained cabinet that houses the enclosure to your masters prized tarantula. You only have time to make a face of pure horror as the glass enclosure shatters against the floor.

Punishment now thrown to the back of your thoughts and the least of your worries you move slowly towards the tarantula as not to startle it worse. Poor bramble is now under a side table and disorientated thanks to you, skittering away under there in fear when the tank fell. (You defiantly named bramble after finding Asa hadn’t named him, appalled. Asa rolled his eyes but eventually started calling it the chosen name in time, he can’t say no to you.)

You slowly prompt bramble onto your hand, letting him plod his way onto you with his chubby legs. You frantically give him a look over, making sure nothing is broken or damaged, he seems to be in perfect health still, just a little shaken. You let out a deep sigh of relief and walk him over to one of the temporary hospital tanks, thinking it will be best for him to stay there until his own tank is replaced for now.

You turn from the tank and meet Asa’s stunned eyes, your not sure wether he’s angry or impressed at your quick thinking with bramble.

“Sorry…I’m sorry sir” you say quietly, upset that you put bramble in danger with your recklessness.

You whip around and sprint off down the haul again, not wanting to face the consequences of your actions so soon. You bunker down under the master bedrooms bed, not an amazing plan you know but it’s the first place your brain came up with in the moment.

The imposing figure trudges after you down the haul, shattered glass from the tank crunching under his heavy boots. He’s pretty sure he knows where you are. You’re an incredibly smart boy when you want to be, not particularly smart at hiding though unfortunately.

The door creaks open and you see your masters boots appear In front of the bed, you wince in anticipation. The yelling never comes.

“I’m not angry pet if that’s what you’re worried about. What happened with Bramble was an accident and you looked after him exceedingly well afterwards. However between that and the kitchen you aren’t getting out of this punishment. You may come out on your own or I will drag you, your choice.”

You think it over for a moment, you know what ever is going to happen once you come out is going to suck. Might as well go out with a bang right? “Get fucked”

“That’s what I guessed, such a pretty thing with such a foul mouth” he shakes his head.

Suddenly you let out an undignified scream as strong gloved hands rip you from under the bed by your leg. You’re slung over his broad shoulder and taken back to your room.

Asa stands you in the middle of the room and closes/locks the door, he turns back to you with a stern face. “Hands” he orders, moving behind you. holding out his palm expectantly. You give a little huff but extend your arms behind you. Asa grabs your wrists firmly and handcuffs them behind your back. tight enough to let the metal bite into you if you squirm too much but not enough to cause damage. Usually he’s a fan of intricate rope work in these situations but he doesn’t have the patience after your performance earlier. He gives a tug on the cuffs and enjoys the groan it pulls out of you.

Asa circles back around you like a vulture, waiting for you to be at your most vulnerable to strike, now face to face and forced to look into the deep inky eyes In front of you. A black nitrile gloved hand strokes over your hair gently. “See? You can be a good boy when you want to be” Asa gives a your cheek two soft patronising pats.

“Down.” He snaps his gloved fingers and points to the floor, this is a basic command you know off by heart, not that you intend on letting it be easy.

You stare Asa down for a few moments, he looks incredibly unimpressed and steely. Before you can even get a smart retort out of your mouth your hair is gripped roughly, your face pulled towards Asa’s. “If you know what’s good for you, you will do what you’re told” he sneers, you yelp in pain as you’re forced to your knees by your hair. “Much better”

Now you’re situated on the wooden floor he reaches to slip his belt from the loops, a dumb horny grin spread on your face. “Aww look at you puppy. you don’t even know what’s about to happen but you’re practically dumb just thinking about my cock aren’t you?” Asa removes the garments on his bottom half and sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread. “Come. You know what to do.”

The way you scramble between his legs is almost pathetic, so eager to get yourself attached to his cock anyway you can. Asa lets out a deep groan of content as you press a little kiss to the head, looking up at him through your lashes. “This is all your good for hm? Looking pretty on a dick?”

You giggle and continue, slowly taking him into your throat, just as your gag reflex starts to kick in he grabs the back of your head, slamming you down onto the last inch of his leaking cock. Your eyes go wide as you struggle, now unable to push him away for air because of the handcuffs. Asa looks down at you with a sick grin as he enjoys your struggling. “Did you forget this was a punishment, mutt? You think you’re going to cause me problems all day and just get to suck my cock as a reward? You must be dumber than I thought.” He chuckles above you.

Wrenching your head back he lets you up for air, loving how ruined you look already, face ruddy and eyes teary, excess saliva connecting to his dick in a string. “Don’t look at me like that, you knew this was coming slut.” You’re pulled back onto his dick until every last inch is so deep In your throat you’re practically breathing it. Asa lets you adjust for a moment before guiding you back and forth, starting off slow as you get used to it but working up to a brutal pace, balls slapping your chin with a lewd sound. After a few minutes of rough treatment Asa finishes, not bothering to alert you first, you don’t deserve it right now.

Asa’s gloved hands press into your scalp as you take all his seed down your throat, not wanting to waste a drop. Once you think you’ve gotten it all you pop off his cock with an exhausted glazed over look. Your master gazes over you fondly, holding your chin with his thumb. “Open up, let me make sure you didn’t waste any” Asa lets out a pleased noise after inspecting your mouth. “Good boy”

You practically vibrate with need, it’s not lost on Asa the way you’ve been wiggling and clenching your thighs together as you gagged on his dick, he knows how impatient you are and how bad he makes you need it. With a final look that says “don’t disappoint me” Asa frees your hands, rubbing over the red marks left behind from your struggle.

“Want me to touch you, puppy?” You nod eagerly, palming yourself over your jeans. “Ah” Asa swats your hand away. “No touching unless I say so, don’t forgot your place. Now, undress and close your eyes for me.” You send him a questioning look but do as requested, throwing your clothes aside for now and wrenching your eyes shut.

You hiss in relief as he finally touches you, wetness already pooling from your need, keening into his hand, loving the attention after waiting so long. You hear something clink and flinch a little, a toy maybe? You make a small noise of complaint as the cold metal touches you. Asa slaps your thigh in retaliation. “Be good” a beat passes as he finishes whatever he’s doing. You look down in suspense only to be instantly mortified. A chastity device sits mockingly around you. (Chastity belt if afab or cock cage if amab < 3 )

“But I- I was good i-“ Asa presses a warm hand to your mouth, cutting your sentence short. “This is the rest of your punishment, did you really think I would get you off after how you’ve been acting?”

Asa grips your chin again, tearing your glare away from the toy you’re essentially trying to burn a hole in with your mind. “What do we say?” He asks sternly, rubbing a hand between your caged legs and making you whine. “Thank you sir”

“You’re welcome, cricket”

[stardustndreamsofsilver]

Honey, All I See Is You

Part One

Jake x Reader (f)

Find All Parts Here

Warnings: None

Prologue

Steam wafts up from the mug sitting on the kitchen table. The sound of music playing in another room down the hall floats through the air. The clock on the oven blinks three a.m. His phone drops from his hands and hits the tile floor. A lump forms in his throat and his heart shatters.

One

Today is the start of everything.

Walking down the path, you inhale the crisp air and let it fill your lungs. The late autumn breeze chills you, but you can’t help but love this time of year. The leaves have started to fall from the trees and the earth prepares for the long nights and cold days. Tucking your chin down into your scarf, you trek on. 

You pass by several of your small towns’ businesses as you make your way through town. The smell of freshly baked bread floats through the air as you walk by the bakery. Glancing through the window, spot the baker and wave as you pass by. Walking a little further, you turn and hop up the step to the cafe and open the door. A little bell rings as you step in, closing the door behind you.

“Good morning! Be right with you!” You hear someone call from the back.

“Take your time!” You call back, pulling your scarf down and brushing your hair back out of your face.

A man you don’t recognize steps out from the back. 

“Hey, how’s it going this fine chilly morning?” He greets. 

You smile and say, “Pretty good, but it’ll be better with a cup of hot coffee.”

“What kind of coffee can I get you today?” He chuckles, grabbing a coffee cup and pen to write your order down.

“I’ll take a  Spanish latte, please.” You smile.

As he writes your order on the cup he says, “One Spanish latte, coming up.”

You say your thanks and turn to take a seat at the table by the window. Once seated, you pull out your phone and type a quick text.

“Hey, who’s the new guy?” You ask your friend Justin, the owner of the cafe.

“That’s an old buddy of mine. His name is Jake.” He types back.

“Gotcha, seems nice. Fingers crossed he doesn’t mess up my latte.” You tease.

“Here’s hoping, we spent all day yesterday practicing. Let me know how he does.”

You type back, “Will do!” 

After a few minutes of scrolling through your socials, you look up just as Jake sits your coffee on the counter and looks over at you. “One Spanish latte.” He says with a smile.

You smile back and stand, walking over to the counter taking the cup before grabbing a lid and putting it on. Jake looks at you expectantly and nods to the coffee. “Hope you enjoy.” He says.

Lifting the cup to your mouth, you take a sip and the bittersweet flavor coats your tongue. Sighing, you lick your lips and say, “Thank you, it’s perfect.”

With an unexpected sigh of relief, Jake grins and says, “No problem. Glad you like it.”

You smile back and lift the cup with a nod goodbye and turn to leave. Stepping out of the cafe, you turn to head to work. Taking a quick peak in through the window, you see Jake watching you leave. He smiles and waves. You return the gesture before continuing on your way.

Opening the door to Literary Labyrinth, the smell of books hits you and you breathe in deep. The smell of home, adventure, love and loss, all encased in these books. Turning to your left, you flip a switch and the overhead lights flicker on. You begin shedding your coat, scarf and purse as you make your way toward the back. Sitting your coffee on the counter, you hang your things on the coat rack in the corner before turning back around to begin opening the store.

You slowly make your way around the store, turning on lamps, picking up books left behind on the seats of wingback chairs, fluffing bean bag chairs in the kid/teen area. Humming to yourself, you put all the books you'd found back where they belong before heading back to the counter.

Walking around to the back of the counter, you sit on the stool and swivel the iPad POS around and tap the screen to get it ready for the day's sales. Once finished, you sigh and pick up your coffee. Taking a sip, you enjoy a few moments of peace before it’s time to flip the sign on the door to open.

The morning and most of the afternoon brings a steady flow of customers. From regulars who stop in everyday to chat about their latest reads to tourists who’d seen the storefront and wanted to check it out. Just as you finish bagging the last of a group of customers stack of poetry books, you hear the front door bell ring.

“Hi! Welcome to Literary Labyrinth!” You call out without looking up.

After throwing in a few free bookmarks and packets of tea, you hand the bag over to the customer with a smile and say brightly, “Have a great day! I hope you enjoy those books! Be sure to let me know what you think of them!” As they leave, you glance around the store to find the customer that had walked in moments before. Not seeing them, you walk around the counter and start to walk down the aisles to find them. 

Rounding the corner of the fiction section, you bump into the back of the customer.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” You stammer out.

As he turns around, you're greeted with a smile from Jake. “Clearly.” He chuckles.

Your face heats and you clear your throat. “Again, I apologize. Is there anything you’re looking for in particular?” You ask, gesturing toward the bookcases with a wave of your hand.

He smiles and shakes his head. “Just browsing. But I’ll let you know if I need your help.”

You swallow thickly and nod your head, clasping your hands behind your back and backing away. “Okay, I’ll just be up at the counter if you need anything.” You say, turning on your heels and heading back.

Taking a seat, you cross your legs and smooth your skirt and tuck a stray hair behind your ear. You look to the counter and reach for the book you’d been reading between customers. Flipping through the pages, you stop where the receipt you’re using as a bookmark is and begin to read. 

A while passes, before you hear the sound of his footsteps approaching. Marking your place, you close the book in your hands and look up with a small smile. Jake closes the distance and lays a couple of books on the counter. Standing, you glance down at the titles before picking them up to scan the barcodes. You notice they’re the most recent installments of a popular fantasy book series.

“I haven’t had a chance to start this series yet, is it any good?” You ask.

“I really enjoy it. If you liked The Chronicles of Narnia as a kid, you’d probably like this series too. It’s the adult version of that.” He says.

“Nice! I’ll have to add it to my tbr then.” You say with a smile. “That’ll be $52.43.”

He reaches in his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. Opening it, he pulls out a few bills and hands them over to you. You take them and grab his change, handing it back. He smiles and stuffs it in his wallet while you bag his purchase. Grabbing the handles, you hold out the bag and say, “Well I hope you enjoy these as much as you did the rest of the series.”

Reaching out, his fingertips graze your hand, warming where he touches and sending a shiver down your spine. Something flashes in his eyes that you almost miss before he takes the bag from you. “Thanks. I hope you get around to reading it. I have a feeling it’ll be a new favorite.” He says with a grin.

You smile back and he turns to leave. Halfway to the door, he turns back around and says, “You know, I didn’t catch your name at the cafe this morning.” You smile and tell him. “A beautiful name to match a beautiful lady. I’m Jake.” He says, grin widening to a full smile. “Well, it was to formally meet you. I hope I get the pleasure of seeing you again.”

You blush and say, “It was nice to meet you too Jake."

With a tilt of his head and wave, he turns and walks out the door.

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged for this series just let me know and I'll add you to the list! 💕

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Sweet past - Ch.1

Summary: 3 years ago, you moved away from Austin, leaving your wreck of a father behind. Now, some news brings you back, and you try to navigate the new life with your dad's best friend, Joel, by your side.

No outbreak is happening here.

Pairing: dbf!Joel x reader

Warnings: mention of death, some foul language, angst.

AN: This is my first time writing for any Pedro Pascal character. The story is a bit angsty and a little different from typical dbf stories out there. Nevertheless I hope you will enjoy it :)

Words: 1 231

Masterlist Chapter 2

It was one of those days when the world seemed determined to weigh you down. A day where every fiber of your being longed for the sanctuary of bed, to simply lie there, unmoving, as if stillness could erase the heaviness in the air. You weren’t exactly tired, more… depleted. It was a curious kind of exhaustion, one that stretched beyond the physical. Typically, you could rely on the people around you—smart, dependable—but today, it seemed as if they'd all collectively lost the ability to think. The simplest tasks turned into ordeals, and everything felt like wading through thick fog.

After unloading the groceries, you flicked on the television, choosing a movie at random without caring to even glance at the title. You weren’t watching it for the plot—just the distraction. The gentle clink of the wine bottle against your glass as you poured yourself a drink offered a brief, comforting sound. You settled into the couch, the cushions welcoming you as you reached for your phone, scrolling through Instagram in a vague attempt to reconnect with the world beyond the confines of your four walls. The perfectly curated lives on the screen felt distant, almost surreal, yet they offered a strange kind of solace.

Life wasn’t bad. In fact, it had become something close to good. Not perfect, certainly—not flawless—but there was a newfound stability in it. You had begun to steady yourself after years of uncertainty, and for the first time in a long while, the past didn’t haunt your every waking moment. The memory that had once consumed you, that dark chapter, was now a distant echo, something you thought about less and less. Your job, too, had shifted into something bearable, even enjoyable at times. Becoming a sous chef had surprised you, more for the satisfaction it brought than the promotion itself. Cooking wasn’t a path you’d ever expected to walk, let alone thrive in, but life has a way of leading you down roads you never could’ve predicted.

The quiet was shattered by the sharp ring of your phone, cutting through the air like a blade. Startled, your heart leapt into your throat, a cold wave of unease settling in your stomach as you stared at the screen. The number glowing there—so familiar, yet so unexpected—stopped you in your tracks. A name you hadn’t spoken or thought of in years swirled in your mind, dredging up old feelings you thought you'd buried long ago.

For a moment, you hesitated, the silence between the rings stretching on as though the universe was giving you one last chance to ignore it. But you couldn’t. Not this time.

“Joel?” you said, your voice barely more than a breath, laced with confusion and something you couldn’t quite place—fear, maybe, or anticipation. It had been three years since you’d last heard that name, three long years of silence.

"Hey, kiddo."

That voice. Gravelly, hoarse, unmistakably Joel Miller. It hadn’t changed, not one bit, after all these years. A voice so distinctive that it could cut through any crowd, and you'd recognize it in an instant. Even now, through the crackling phone line, it brought back memories, both comforting and unsettling.

"How are you?"

But you couldn’t answer that. Your instincts were already screaming that something was wrong, and you had no patience for pleasantries. "What happened?" you asked, your voice sharp, cutting straight to the heart of it. No small talk. Not when your gut was twisting with dread.

"What made you think..."

"Joel." You interrupted, firmer this time, sensing his hesitation. There was a pause on the other end, the kind of pause that made the world stand still for just a second too long. He sighed. And in that sigh, you heard something you'd never associated with Joel before—nervousness. Joel Miller was a lot of things—gruff, moody, and often short-tempered—but nervous? Never. Until now.

"This isn’t something I want to discuss over the phone," he began, his voice lower, like he was picking his words carefully. "But you never left an address." He trailed off, and you heard the sound of him settling into a chair, the weariness in his movements somehow translating through the call. Your mind raced, scrambling to piece together what he was struggling to say. Was it about your father? Had he fallen back into his old ways? Was he in jail again? Or worse?

"He never wanted you to know," Joel continued, his voice thick with something heavy—regret, maybe, or sorrow. "He didn’t want you to worry…"

You let him speak, his words falling slowly, as though each one was a burden. Joel wasn’t one to skirt around things, but today was different. Whatever this was, it was bad—so bad that even someone like Joel was struggling to get it out.

"He’s gone, kid."

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. For a second, you thought your heart had stopped. Time itself seemed to freeze. Gone? The world around you faded into a blur, your mind desperately trying to process the weight of what he had just said.

"I’m sorry." Joel’s voice softened, and he said your name, but the syllables barely registered. It was as if your brain had short-circuited, unable to focus on anything but the ringing silence that followed those words.

"I… I… his liver…" Joel’s explanation felt distant, muffled, like you were hearing it underwater.

You swallowed hard, the tears already burning in your eyes. "Was he in pain?" you managed to whisper, your voice trembling, barely holding itself together. "When he died?"

"Sweetheart," Joel replied, his voice rougher now, edged with sadness. "This isn’t a conversation to have over the phone."

He was right, of course. But the thought of having this conversation face-to-face, of confronting this loss, seemed unbearable. You weren’t sure if you had the strength to hear all the details. Not yet.

"I can plan everything out if it’s too much for you," Joel offered gently, always the practical one, even in moments like this. His tone was steady, but underneath it, you could hear the strain of trying to shoulder this burden for you.

You closed your eyes, a tear sliding down your cheek. "I’ll be there in three days," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Thank you, Joel."

As you ended the call, the silence in the room felt suffocating. You sank back into the couch, feeling the weight of grief press down on you, and let the sobs come. It was the kind of crying that leaves you exhausted, every tear carrying a part of your soul with it, until finally, sleep took you. A restless, uneasy sleep, haunted by the echoes of Joel’s words and the unbearable finality of loss.

***

Austin was one of those places that carried the weight of too many memories, memories so sweet they turned bitter if you lingered on them for too long. Leaving had been painful, but returning felt like reopening an old wound, the kind that never quite healed right. You knew, even before you arrived, that you were coming back to emptiness. And yet, something—some invisible force—pulled you back. Maybe it was nostalgia, maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was just the cruel pull of the past that refuses to let go.

The ride to your old home wasn’t long, mercifully spent in silence. The landscape hadn’t changed much since you left three years ago. It was as if the town had fallen into a kind of stasis, stubbornly resisting the passage of time. Yet, in a strange contradiction, there were new houses, new shops, all designed to look like they’d been there forever, as if even progress here was determined to stay hidden in plain sight.

You thanked the driver, grabbed your bags, and stood there for a moment, staring up at the house you once called home. A soft smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, but it wasn’t the smile of joy. It was the kind of smile that comes when you remember something that used to be beautiful—before everything went to hell. Yes, childhood had been good, once. You’d had two loving parents, a nice house, good friends who, in hindsight, had become little more than acquaintances when things got hard. But that was before. Before everything unraveled.

The key slid easily into the lock, the same key your father had given you the day you left. He had pressed it into your hand, almost desperate, as if the weight of it might keep you grounded, keep you from walking away from him, from this town, from the life you no longer recognized. You’d kept it, not out of sentimentality, but practicality. Just in case. Though you never imagined you’d use it again so soon. Three years—gone in the blink of an eye. So much had changed, and yet the uncertainty remained. You didn’t even know what you were doing here, what you expected to find.

The door swung open, and the house felt different. Not colder—cleaner. The stale scent of alcohol no longer lingered in the air. No empty bottles cluttering the floors. The walls, once dingy, had been repainted, and there was a new carpet. You froze when your eyes landed on the pictures. Photos of you, as a child, lined the hallway. You stared at them, heart tightening. Graduation photos. Family portraits. Your mom and dad, smiling, back when life was full of hope. Back when the future seemed bright.

You blinked, forcing back the tears that stung at your eyes. Those days were long gone, swallowed by the chaos that followed. You abandoned your bags by the door, drawn deeper into the house as memories flooded your mind. To your surprise, the place was in much better condition than you’d expected. It looked like your father had made an effort, had used the money you sent him after all.

Still, as you wandered from room to room, the house remained largely unchanged. The furniture, the layout—it was like walking through a frozen moment in time. Your heart ached when you reached your old bedroom. Everything was exactly as you'd left it. The posters still clung to the walls, slightly faded. The books you’d loved in high school were neatly lined on the shelves, untouched. The DVDs and CDs, relics of movie nights with your parents, sat waiting. Those Saturday nights had been a lifeline back then, a brief reprieve from the chaos. You, your parents, snacks spread across the coffee table, laughing and watching movies late into the night. You cherished those memories, even now.

Your fingers grazed one of the DVDs when the doorbell rang, echoing through the quiet house. You frowned, your heart skipping a beat as you made your way to the door. Peeking through the peephole, your eyes widened.

"Long time no see, kiddo."

There he stood, Joel Miller, looking almost exactly the same as when you’d last seen him. The same rugged features, tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair and beard now streaked with more gray. His smirk was still there, that familiar, crooked grin he always wore when he was about to tease you.

"Joel!" you breathed, a genuine smile breaking through as you opened the door. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder. His scent—earthy, familiar—washed over you, and you exhaled, finally allowing yourself to feel grounded.

Joel’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and he murmured your name, his voice low and unsure, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were here. "Come on inside," he said, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. "I stocked up for you."

He led you into the house, and you blinked away the single tear that escaped. There was a time for tears, but not now. Not after the pain Joel had already brought you, not after everything that had happened. There would be time for that later—just not yet.

[jennay]

Honey Bee

Jolly Master List

PART ONE/PART TWO/

You feel your throat tighten, a knot forming as you hold your phone to your ear. You feel your chest constrict, your breaths becoming shallow and ragged. You feel your eyes well up, your vision blurring. You feel your mind racing, your thoughts spinning out of control. The amount of anxiety you felt today was enough to make you leave.

Noah will know how to help you and make you feel better. He gives you honest and practical advice without judging or blaming you. He'll support you, tell you you're not alone, and always be there for you.

You hate that you feel this way, out of place. What a change from yesterday when you fully felt you were where you were supposed to be. You hoped for a different outcome, but now you knew how Jolly felt and were thankful for it, but you also felt shattered. Why couldn't life be kind for just once and let you have what you wanted?

You hear Noah's voice on the other end, but it's not the friendly greeting you hoped for. "It's only been three days, Y/n. Why are you calling me? Shouldn't you be focusing on lover boy?" He jokes. "You must be calling to thank me, right?"

You sigh and roll your eyes at his sarcasm. "Noah, please, this is serious. I need your help."

He laughs and says, "Oh, I see. You want to come back home to me, right, cause you feel bad for leaving me for so long? Well, too bad, honey. I'm taken."

You groan, "Stop it. I know you're not dating anyone, and when I come home, it won't be to YOU because we were never together, dumbass." You giggle, "You've hit full delusion without me there, huh?"

"I mean, I've had a lot of time to myself, and I've spent a lot of it in my room talking to George." He chuckles, "Anyway, what can I do for you, buttercup?"

As you walk through the tiny backyard, you admire the vibrant flowers and herbs that Jolly has grown in his garden. He's away at his mom's place, but you still feel nervous when you speak out loud. It's like you are afraid once the words come out, they will be true, and once you admit it to Noah, there is no turning back.

"I need to come home." You say, biting your lip. "I can't be here another day." You feel yourself choke over your words.

You hear him close the door on his side, and the phone crackles as he moves it closer to his mouth. "What do you mean?" He asks, sounding more concerned now. He clears his throat and lowers his voice, "Did something happen?"

"I can't talk about it at the moment. I already feel like I'm going to puke." You say, sniffing back your tears.

You can tell that Noah is getting anxious. "Did he hurt you?" He asks, his voice hard and furious. "Cause I'll come there, and I'll sort that shit out immediately."

You shake your head, even though he can't see you through the phone. "No, he didn't hurt me. Not physically, anyway." You pause, wondering how to ask him for a favor. You hate to impose on him, but you have no other option. You need to get away from this place as soon as possible. "I was just wondering if maybe you could help me out with the ticket." You whisper, hoping he won't get angry. You know you can't afford a last-minute flight back home.

Noah sighs, "Yeah, I'll see what I can find for today." The line goes silent for a moment, and when Noah speaks again, he's more gentle and kind, "I don't know what happened, but I want you to know it's going to be OK." He sounds sincere and caring, and you feel a sense of gratitude.

You feel your eyes water, but you quickly wipe them away. You don't want to cry in front of him, even if he can't see you. You want to be strong and brave like he always says you are. "I'll talk to you later." You say, trying to sound cheerful. You hang up the phone and take a deep breath. You hope he can find a ticket for you. You could really use a Noah hug about now.

Jolly sank into the recliner, facing his mom on the couch. He couldn't look at her; he felt too embarrassed and conflicted. He kept replaying the events of last night in his head, wondering if you hated him. He knew you were hurt; you barely said a word to him for the rest of the night. He saw you lying on the couch, pretending to be asleep, but he could see your eyes flickering and your body tensing.

He wanted to tell you how much he wished things were different. He wanted to kiss you and make you feel loved and be your hero and protector, but he thought he had no right to do that. He felt like he was trespassing on something that belonged to Noah.

He thought he should back off and let you sort things out with your best friend. He couldn't shake the feeling that you had hidden feelings for Noah, even though you denied it.

You and Noah seemed perfect for each other. You had known each other for so long, had your own jokes and secrets, and shared many interests. You spent a lot of time together, and Jolly knew when you did stay the night at their place, you were always in Noah's room. He couldn't help but imagine what you did behind closed doors.

"Joakim," His mother says, breaking the silence. "Is this about that girl?" She asks, noticing his gloomy mood.

He doesn't look up, afraid of what he'll see in his mother's eyes. He knows she's worried about him, but he doesn't want to disappoint her. He continues staring at the floor and nods slightly, "I should have listened to her and kissed her. I think I ruined everything." He leans forward, resting his face in his hands, and sighs.

"Tell me what happened." She urges, moving closer to him on the couch. He sits up and crosses one leg over the other, finally meeting his mother's matching irises. "I messed it up." He groans. "We had this fun day, and at the end of the night, she leaned in for a kiss, and I turned her down."

She nods, listening, "Why, I thought you liked this one?"

He shrugs. "I do. I have, for a long time."

"What is the problem? Did you forget to tell me she was married or unavailable?" She asks, growing concerned that her son has fallen into a trap.

Jolly shakes his head, "I think she has feelings for Noah, and Noah has feelings for her, but they won't admit it." He tells her, feeling the pain crushing him all over again.

"Joakim Oskar Patrik Karlsson, I love you, but you're not very bright sometimes." She laughs, "She came all this way to see you. She wanted you to kiss her. Isn't that enough evidence?"

Jolly's eyes widen, "But Noah-"

"What about Noah? She said she doesn't have feelings for Noah. You need to believe her, and if this is what you want, why aren't you going after it?" She sighs, growing slightly frustrated, "Men." She mutters. "I raised you better than this." She stands up, walks to the front door, and opens it. "Get out."

Jolly looks at his mother with confusion, "What?" He stands up, "You're kicking me out?"

"Go talk to her. Tell her everything because if you don't, she will move on, and there will be others, and you will regret this forever." She was right; he needed to tell you before it was too late.

He kisses his mom on the cheek as he exits the cozy house. He feels nervousness and excitement; he'll do it. He needed to tell you everything: how he thought about you, dreamed of you, and wanted to be with you. He rehearses what he will say but knows words are not enough. He needs to show you how he feels.

Jolly clenches the steering wheel as he drives to his house, his heart pounding in his chest. He dials Noah's number, hoping to hear his voice and clear the air. He doesn't want to lose his best friend over this. He wants to explain himself, to apologize, to make things right. But when he calls, the phone rings once and goes straight to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again but gets the same result.

Anxiety washes over him. He wonders why Noah is ignoring him, and then a horrible thought crosses his mind. You must've called Noah first.

"Fuck." He curses under his breath.

This was going to be the worst drive home ever.

He pulls into his driveway and parks the car, but he doesn't get out right away. His chest tightens when he thinks about facing you. He doesn't know what to say to you, but he hopes his feelings will show through. Jolly finally gets out of the car and walks up the driveway. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the door handle, calling out your name as he opens the door. But he stops when he sees you walking toward him with your bags packed. He feels a jolt of shock and pain as he looks at you, his eyes wide and incredulous. He can't move, he can't speak, and he can't breathe. He stares at you as you approach him, dragging your luggage behind you.

The sound of your bag hitting the ground jolts him out of his trance. "What's going on? Where are you going?" He asks, his voice cracking with emotion. He tries to catch your eye, but you avoid his gaze.

You avert your eyes from him and clamp your mouth shut, suppressing the sob that wants to break free. You wish you had left before he came back.

"Something came up at work, and I need to go home." You lie, hoping he won't hear the quiver in your voice. He knows you too well; he knows you're lying.

"Oh," he says softly, knowing at this moment there was nothing he could do to make you stay. "Let me at least take you to the airport…"

You shake your head and adjust your backpack on your shoulder. You pull out your phone and glance at the screen, "My cab's here." You say, feeling guilt in your chest. You see the pain in his face, and it breaks your heart.

"You were going to leave without saying goodbye?" He asks, his voice barely audible.

You bite your lip and look around the room, trying to find something else to focus on—anything but him: anything but the memories you've made here. "I'm sorry, Jolly. I have to go." You say, walking past him.

He grabs your arm and hugs you tightly, holding you close.

He wants to tell you how he feels. He wants to beg you to stay. He wants to kiss you and make you forget everything else. But he can't. He loves you too much to be selfish and force you to stay. He has to let you go and hope that the two of you will reunite and things will be different.

"Be safe, Honey Bee." He whispers in your ear, then gently pulls back, looking into your eyes. He sees the tears that are about to fall. He wipes them away with his thumb. He tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

You nod your head and pick up your bags, "OK." You whisper, leaving him in the doorway as you drag your bags to the cab. You look back at him one last time and see him standing there, watching you go. You feel a surge of emotion and want to run back to him, but you know you can't. You get in the cab and close the door, feeling the finality of your decision. You drive away, leaving him behind.

He lets out a soft sigh, feeling disappointed and empty. He enters his room and sits on the bed, his heart heavy with regret. He kicks off his shoes, hoping a nap will help him forget the pain. But as he looks around the room, his eyes fall on the bedside table, and he sees it: the ring he bought you, a black band with your favorite stone in the center, sitting there, mocking him. He grabs it, holds it in his hand, and tilts it back and forth, remembering how happy you were to receive it, the smile on your face, the joy in your eyes, and your sweet smile. He feels the cold metal against his skin and wonders if you were intentionally hurting him as a form of payback. He shakes his head, not sure of how he feels. He sets the ring back on the table and lays down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He feels so angry, knowing that this could've been prevented if he just would've kissed you. His heart aches with longing, and he wishes he could turn back time and make things right. But it's too late now, and all he can do is lie alone with his thoughts and regrets. He hears the clock ticking on the wall and counts the seconds, hoping they will pass faster. He closes his eyes, trying to block out the image of you walking away from him. He wonders if you'll ever forgive him, and he wonders if he'll have to watch you fall for someone else or if there is still hope for him when he returns home.

When you arrive at the airport, Noah greets you warmly and offers to help you with your bags. "You doing OK?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. He sees the sadness and exhaustion on your face, and he knows you've been through a lot.

You nod, "Yeah, just wanna get home." You say, forcing a smile. You don't feel like talking; you just want to forget everything that happened. Noah nods in understanding and leads you out of the airport, where his car is waiting. As you walk, Noah glances over to see you staring at the ground. It's dark and cold, and you haven't yet asked him for his jacket, which surprised him. He knows you're always cold and usually lends you his jacket whenever you're together.

"Hey," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. He tries to comfort you, to make you feel better. "You wanna talk about what happened?" He asks, hoping you'll open up to him. He wants to know what went wrong, what Jolly did or said to make you leave so suddenly. He wants to help you, to be there for you.

You feel a pit in your stomach as you think of the events of the last three days. You shrug your shoulders and nudge Noah's arm off you. You open the car door, still remaining silent. You're confused and angry.

Noah starts the engine, his lips pressed together as he watches you stare out the window. He feels like he's partly to blame for what happened. He was the one who encouraged you to go see Jolly, to confess your feelings, to take a chance.

"I'm sorry things didn't go how we thought they would," he says, his voice heavy with sorrow. He watches the road, purposefully missing the turn to keep you in the car a little longer. He wants to spend more time with you, to make you laugh and forget.

"Noah…" You groan. "I don't want to think about it anymore. Jolly made his choice, and now I need to move on." You lean your head on the window and watch as the rain droplets slide down the glass. You feel like they're a reflection of your tears and pain. You wish you could wash away everything that happened, everything that didn't happen and will never happen. "Please stop missing turns. I know it doesn't take this long to get home." You say, feeling impatient and restless. You want to get out of the car, out of this conversation, out of this mess.

Noah's grip tightens on the steering wheel, not out of frustration but worry. He sees the tears in your eyes and the pain on your face. "You wanna stay the night with me? We can watch a movie, and I'm sure George would love to snuggle you." He suggests, hoping you'll agree.

You shake your head again, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together. You don't want to stay with Noah, you don't want to watch a movie, you don't want to snuggle George. You just want to go home, to your own bed, to your own space, to your own misery. "I'll get him in the morning, Noah. I just really want to go home." You say, growing frustrated. You hate to sound ungrateful, but you can't stand being around anyone now. You just want to be alone.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, and it's not until you reach your apartment that you remember Noah has a key to your door.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face him. "Give me your key." You say, holding out your hand. You don't want him to have access to your place, check up on you, or bother you. You want to cut him off, at least for tonight.

Noah looks at you, shocked. "What?" He asks, "No." He says with wide eyes, "You said it's for an emergency, and right now, I'm worried you might have an emergency." He's afraid of what you might do. He cares about you more than you know, and he can't stand the idea of losing you, even if it's only mentally.

You stare at him with disbelief, "Noah, give me the fucking key. I just want to sleep peacefully without you annoying me because you're worried." You snap, losing your patience. You don't care about his feelings, and you don't care about his fears.

Noah can't believe you're pushing him away like this after everything you've been through together. He clenches his jaw and pulls his keys out of the ignition. He grabs the key and drops it in your hand. "Fine. Take it...just promise you'll come get George in the morning."

You force a smile and get out of the car. Noah pops the trunk, and you grab your bags, avoiding his gaze as you walk into your apartment.

You feel a twinge of guilt for how you treated Noah, but you can't help it. You're angry at him for making you believe that Jolly had feelings for you when he clearly didn't.

You drop your bags by your door and head to your bedroom, passing by one of the pictures you cherished of you and Jolly. You push your fingers under the frame and knock it off the wall, letting it fall to the floor. You hear the glass shatter and glance at the broken edge, feeling pain in your chest.

You stare at the photo of you and Jolly, your faces glowing with happiness. It was from the Fourth of July, the night you celebrated with fireworks and laughter. Noah was your photographer, capturing every moment with his phone. He teased you for being too scared to light anything but sparklers, but Jolly didn't mind. He thought you were adorable and joined you with his own sparkler. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple as the sparks flew around you. It was a perfect night, and you felt nothing could go wrong.

You shake the thoughts as you walk away, not bothering to clean it up.

Reaching your room, you strip out of your clothes and turn off the light. You crawl into bed and reach for your phone, squinting at the bright screen.

You see a text message from Jolly. Did you make it back safe?

You sigh and turn off your phone. You don't want to talk to him. You toss your phone aside and lie on your back, staring at the ceiling, feeling lost and confused. You can't believe you fell for Jolly after holding him at arm's length for so long; you should've trusted your instincts. How did you miss the clues that he was only being nice to you? Maybe you missed the friendly signals because of how he held you the other night in his bed, making you feel safe and serene, or was it how he would wrap his arms around your waist or rest his hands on your hips when he spoke to you? Or maybe it was the ring he gave you, telling you he wanted you to think of him whenever you glanced at it.

You roll on your side and pull the blanket over your head, muffling your sobs. You hate feeling this way. You wish you could erase him from your mind, but you know you can't. He's a part of you, and you can't let him go. You close your eyes and drift into a restless sleep, dreaming of what could have been.

Part four

Tags: @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm

@somewhere-diamond @cookiesupplier

[crownedtargaryen]

might i request some modern bran where he's been in love with his best friend the past few years but hasn't said anything because he doesn't want to make things weird in their friend group with meer and jojen? 👀with these staying the staying the night prompts mayhaps?

❝  i know this might sound weird but,  do you wanna stay over?  i guess ‘sleepover’ sounds kind of childish but.  i think it’d be nice.  ❞

and

❝  chivalry is overrated,  get in my bed.  ❞

fruits. - modern!bran, modern!jojen

MASTERLIST pairing: modern!bran & modern!jojen x reader (a/n): i appreciate this request so much thea 🥹🥹 you know how much i love bran 🤍🤍 REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! also he isn’t in a wheelchair in this cause i just think it’d be easier to write a sexual scene where he’s dominant if he can walk CW: jealousy, p in v sex, unprotected sex, jojen is on the phone, slight food play?, degradation mixed with praise (words like slut, whore, all that jazz are kinda used), possessiveness, bran takes some pictures and videos of you while having sex all notes are appreciated. words: 3k tag list: @fairysluna @twizzy123 @hopelesswritergall @howyouloveyourdragon @clairacassidy @ad-astra-again

Years slip from Bran's fingertips, his love for me growing daily.

We'd met when we were around nine, being insufferable ever since. Bran followed me like a hopeless puppy, chasing me as I slipped from his fingertips. I always found someone new and would come to him crying, heartbroken that yet another disgusting person had shattered that loving heart of mine. He held me for years, always being there when I needed him the most. He did struggle with showing his affection toward me, coming off as merely friendly and caring to me, never showing any signs of feelings. I grew hyper-aware of my blossoming affection for Brandon Stark when I reached sixteen but stayed silent due to his stiffness when I brought up romantics. I'd always assumed he was in love with Meer since after she and her brother Jojen had joined your group, he seemed weirdly tense and much quieter than previously. I never wished to press, but some underlying jealousy burrowed within me. Or perhaps, he loved Jojen? It was definitely on the table with how he looked at the boy, and Jojen grinned awkwardly in return.

I'm affectionate, always hugging Jojen and Meer as they flush and laugh, returning the affection. However, Bran seemed uncomfortable with my love since they joined, significantly pushing himself away from my touch since his voice had dropped. It may be a puberty thing; I was still determining. That was until this particular night when I realized I had misread his signals drastically. That he, in fact, craved my affections, but not in a way I so thought.

We walked to Bran's car since he was my ride; Jojen had been riding with Meer since she got her license. I could tell Bran was extra tense today, his breathing staggered, and his cheeks grew pink as he clenched the right strap of his bag. We say nothing, getting inside the vehicle as I toss my bag into the back seat and look over to him, watching as he clumsily shoves the key into the hole and turns it, his left hand stroking over the wheel slowly and then clenching it. The way his calloused fingers traced the material of the wheel, so tender as he then gripped it as his thumb rubbed over it, seemingly soothing it as if it was a person.

That stirred something inside me, more than I wished to admit.

I was brought out of my trance as Bran spoke, looking at me nervously. "Look, I know this might sound weird," he starts, inhaling shakily and avoiding eye contact. "Do you maybe wanna stay over? I guess 'sleepover' sounds childish, but. It'd be nice." In all our years, he's never invited me to sleep at his house, and my parents are always surprised when I come home. They seemed to be waiting for the day I just stayed the night with Bran, given we've known each other for ages, and they trusted him not to do anything inappropriate. Boy, were they wrong. He starts awkwardly apologizing and insisting if I feel uncomfortable, I don't have to come over, but I merely laugh. He stops talking, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Hey, hey! Breathe," I laugh, raising a brow. "I'm gonna stay the night. Let me text my parents." The tension in the car eases as he drives off to his house, seeming quite ambitious and unreasonably excited about this.

The drive is long and drawn out, the silence in the car prominent. I look at him out of the corner of my eye ad see a bit of sweat rolling down his brow, noting his shuffling as he purses his lips. He pushes up his glasses with the back of his hand, noticing me staring and smiling sweetly at me in return to my gaze. I glance at his phone, and he catches the hint.

"Oh, right. Music," he laughs, stopping at a red light and quickly putting on a tune. Bran was a huge Hozier and Weezer fan, which was weirdly fitting. His voice fits so well with Hozier, but Weezer fits his personality. We'd gotten into countless arguments over if you could consider Weezer music, and he's turned me to his side every time. Though, to each their own. I hear the soft tune, relieved he decided to put on Hozier instead of the latter, Bran murmuring the words as he turns up the radio and continues to drive.

That's when I notice the song playing- Someone New by Hozier- a brow raising. He pats the drum beat on his wheel, nodding to the words and singing quietly. I take in every word, knowing Bran focused on lyrics rather than the rhythm and pacing of his music. This song had to be directed to Meer. I'll need to ask him sometime tonight about his feelings toward her.

We'd pulled up to his house, all his siblings and cousin out, besides Robb, who was home sick then. We walked in and immediately were met with Robb Stark walking out of the kitchen, shirtless with shorts on and a bowl of cereal in his calloused hands. I look up at his face, trying to avoid staring at his chest, lined with faint scars and a tuft of chest hair, his happy trail visible right above the waist of his pants. His eyes scanned me, then Bran. I watch his hand run through his beautiful curls, then scratch his facial hair with a slight smirk.

"Brought your girlfriend?" Robb coos, making my cheeks burn. When I look at Bran, I see a faint warning glare across his eyes. My eyes trail down, widening slightly at the strain between his legs on his pants. I quickly avert my gaze. No fucking way; he was hard as all hell right now. "Don't have too much fun." Robb's remark makes Bran audibly grumble, leaving me mildly offended. What was that for? Did he not find me appealing? I look back to his brother, who is now lazed on the couch and turning on the TV, eyes lidded as he watches and munches on his cereal without worrying about the world around him.

Trying to brush over the remark, I walk to the kitchen and open the fridge, grabbing some strawberries and grapes.

Before I could ask if he wanted anything, Bran grabbed my hand and tugged me to his room, slamming the door and sighing loud, running his hands down his face. "I'm sorry about him; you know how he is," Bran grumbles, making me chuckle as I sit on his bed. "Did he make you uncomfortable?" I notice the worry crossing his face, a sincere smile coming to my lips.

"Nah, not at all. Didn't know I was your girlfriend though, coulda been consoled on that," I tease, watching as Bran rolls his eyes and sits next to me, lying back as he looks at the ceiling.

Hours pass of idle chitchat and playing some board and video games together, but then it comes to a game of truth or dare.

"I dare you," I drag out, smiling at him as I lean in. "To kiss me." Bran's cheeks flush as he swallows hard, glances at my lips, and then back into my eyes. "Don't worry; it can be just a peck."

His kiss catches me off guard, his lips suddenly on mine without warning. It's deeper than I thought it'd be, his hand cupping my cheek as he presses his chest to mine for a moment. As he pulls away, I feel dizzy and breathless.

"Truth or dare," he whispers, lips hovering over mine. I take my lower lip between my teeth, slowly pulling from him and examining his features. "Truth." Bran liked my response, wetting his lips with flushed cheeks.

"You like anyone?" He asks as his brows knitted anxiously. I see a sense of hope in his eyes, making my heart ache.

"Of course I do," I play it cool, laughing weakly and pretending to lack understanding. "Truth or dare?"

"Hit me with a truth," he smiles. I can tell he's happy by my response.

"Do you like Meer?" I blurt out without a second thought, a question I've held in for years. Surprise corrupts his previously playful expression.

"What? Why would I like Meer?" Bran asks, making me feel humiliated at such a question.

"I don't know, you just are constantly with her and always being weirdly flirty. I sometimes feel pushed aside, you know?" I murmur, fiddling with my hands and avoiding looking at him.

I hear him chuckle as he moves his hand to my cheek, palms soft as he makes me look at him. "I thought you liked Jojen; why are you acting all jealous over the possibility of me liking Meer?" he murmurs as I widen my eyes.

"Jojen?! Heck no! I've been in love with you, you idiot!" I rush out the words, realizing what I'd just admitted. My breath hitches; time feels as if it's frozen. Holy shit, I just ruined my friendship; he hates me; this is it.

My thoughts stop when his lips are on mine like before. I whine into his loving action, moving my hands to his hair and inhaling shakily against his lips, his tongue brushing my bottom lip. Our tongues dance in a forbidden tango, saliva mixing as he pulls away much sooner than I wished.

"Let me lock the door," he pants out, pecking my lips as he scrambles. My eyes trail to the fruit resting on the bedside table as I reach over and eat a grape, the juice spurting out and down my chin. I laugh, going to wipe it off but hearing Bran's stern voice. "No, no. Stay still." his tone is calm as he trails over to me, grabbing my chin and licking the juice trailing down my neck. The lick lines my neck, up my chin, and to my lips, where he feverishly kisses me. I stand closer to him, trailing my hands up his shirt and gently clawing at his back as he picks me up and lets me hook my legs around his waist.

"I'm gonna love you right, sweetheart," he murmurs into the kiss, biting my bottom lip tauntingly. "You're fuckin' beautiful." I laugh softly, moving from his lips and raising a brow.

"Well aren't you chivalrous?" I tease, watching as he rolls his eyes and huffs.

"Chivalry is overrated; you're getting in my bed," he demands, tossing me onto the mattress and tugging my shirt over my head, taking in the sight of my upper body as his strained cock twitches in his pants. "Holy hell." slowly, he reaches beneath me, unclasps my bra, slips it away from my torso, and watches as it falls in front of the bedside table. Bran's eyes trail to the fruits with a mischievous grin, looking at me with a pleading gaze. "Can I try something?"

"Just be gentle," I plea, watching as he stalks over to the bedside, slipping off his shirt and tossing it down next to my discarded bra. He grabs strawberries and grapes, setting them next to my torso as he slips off my pants and underwear, pausing momentarily to take in the sight of my glistening cunt, dripping with slickness. He nearly audibly gulps, whimpering quietly as his hand strokes up my thigh and to my cunny, rolling his thumb in circles on my neglected bud. I writhe, closing my eyes and whining his name under my breath. My hips desperately follow his touch, thighs trembling lightly as he moves his other hand to the cut strawberries and traces it down my torso with a slight squeeze. The juice traces my left nipple to my right, down my stomach, and then to my aching lower lips. He pops the fruit into his mouth, eating it as he moves down and licks over my sensitive chest, taking in the taste of my sweet citrusy body wash with the tangy strawberry juice. His licks trail from one nipple to the next, massaging each breast when moving between them as he grinds his clothed cock between my legs, making me shiver in delight yet mild frustration. His licks then move down my stomach and to my cunt where I inhale sharply as he trails his tongue between my soaked folds and to my bud, wrapping his lips over it with a soft whimper as he slips off his pants and abuses the clit with his mouth, tongue wandering slightly to my entrance before moving back up, his fingers prodding my hole. The moment he pushes them in, filling me with his middle and ring finger, I hear my phone buzzing. Lazily, I grab it from my side and look at the person in question, showing Bran, who is looking up between my legs, still tending to my lower piece.

Jojen.

"Answer it," Bran demands, seeing my confusion. "Now." He waits until I accept the call before he pushes his fingers in and out vigorously and multiplies the abuse on my cunt, making me moan loudly into the phone, interrupting Jojen's hello.

"Everything okay?" Jojen asks after a moment of silence. I can't stop panting, trying to swallow it down as Bran smiles against my pussy, continuing his tentative actions to my now-swollen clit. "Hey, you hear me?" his voice is now contorted to worry.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great," I pant out, closing my eyes and whimpering into the phone, hips bucking into Bran's mouth. Jojen goes silent again as I hear a faint rustling from the other side of the phone, then a closing of what I can only assume is his bedroom door. "Gods, I'm sorry… What do you need?" I stifle a moan as Bran's fingers touch a spongy spot inside me, making me gasp shakily and bite my tongue.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jojen asks once more, ignoring my question. I hear shuffling again, the clinking of a belt. I look to Bran, who pops off my clit for a moment. Perhaps Jojen is just changing, right? "You keep making noises."

"Tell him. Tell him who's making you feel this good," he whispers, licking a stripe along my folds and under my clit, then wrapping his lips around the bud.

"I- Uh… You called during Bran's treat," I whine out, hearing Jojen let in a shaky inhale. Bran urges me to put it on speaker, which I gladly do.

"Should I hang up?" He says after a drawn-out silence, his voice weaker. Bran shakes his head, urging me to tease him.

"No, no… Stay. Your voice is driving me crazy, Jojie." I whine out, Bran's gaze becoming possessive and fiery as he pops off my lower piece and slips off his boxers, grinding his cock to my damp cunt. I hear Jojen draw in a long groan, making my insides ache. Fucking pervert, I love it.

"Gods… You sound so sweet, angel." Jojen pants out, a bit of a wetter noise coming from the other line. I grin, biting my lip and inhaling sharply as Bran sheathes himself inside my velvety entrance, making my hips jerk, and my eyes roll back with a pained moan. "I wish I was there, fuck." I'd never heard Jojen swear. I'd be lying if I said it hadn't turned me on even more. I watch as Bran holds himself back from pushing inside, grabbing his phone and fumbling for the camera, angling the photo to capture his cock buried inside me. I hear a faint vibration from Jojen's side, making me flush in embarrassment. Though I can't dwell on such a feeling for long as Bran thrusts his hips and dives deep into that spongy spot, he took advantage of earlier, making me see stars and cry out his name.

Jojen's breathing grows incredibly labored on the other side with pitiful moans and pleas for more, which Bran provides tenfold with videos.

"Such a good girl, baby. My fucking whore." he murmurs, moving down and kissing along my neck, pounding deep into my soaking insides that clamp around his piece. "You're. Mine." he glances at the phone and then into my eyes possessively, making me whimper and nod. I soft moan Jojen's name hearing him inhale sharply and whimper out my name in return. Bran's phone dings and I watch as he opens a video from Jojen.

The video is only a minute, with Jojen stroking his long and weeping uncut cock as his hips stutter and push into his hand. Oh, what I'd give to have that stuffed in me too. Bran and Jojen were both quite large. It's always the lengthy men.

Bran notices my star-struck expression and tosses his phone away, grabbing my chin and making me look at him as I whimper. "Such a filthy girl, thinking about Jojen's cock stuffing that pretty mouth of yours," he coos, smiling down at me. I feel my peak inching closer, his hips slamming into mine as he pants and grows dazed, seemingly obsessed with this feeling as he slows his thrusts and draws his cock in and out, embracing the way I pulse around him and cry out, begging him to move faster. Jojen immediately goes to FaceTime; his camera set him to where I can see his cock leaking with pre. I eye the sight, helpless and whining. Bran helps me set up the camera, then pins me down by the wrists and pounds me into oblivion, hips shaking and thighs trembling as we both near our climax.

"Holy shit, I'm gonna-" he can't finish his sentence, letting out the most pitiful and bottoming-out moan I've ever heard, burying his face in my neck as I reach my peak, watching Jojen stroke vigorously to his own, shooting a long string of cum onto his neck and chest. We ride out this high together, stopping around the same time as Bran pants and grinds his hips, nuzzling his nose into my neck.

"Don't get comfy yet; we're done when Jojen gets to drain his cock inside this filthy cunt too."

[wifey-ohara]

Blood and fire, they burn the same way

Part1

Angsty miguel &teen spider!reader

Notes: mentioned characters death, nothing major, sad, mentiones of threats of violence, this one is just dull really, i should really add to it ,hobie is here!,not proof read

tag list:@mvlanchqly

4:00 am

You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and well rested, it's been years since you had that kind of good sleep, is this what revenge feels like? Now you understand why villains hold grudges so bad

With a small smirk, you got up and got ready for your day, you didn't have anything to do today, so a day in the lab it is then, your mood got better at the decision you made.

Then it fell back down

There he was, right where you left him, leaning on the wall eyes so puffy you doubted he could open them

Pathetic

With a small huff you entered the kitchen making yourself a drink, hoping that your day wouldn't be ruined

You were almost done when you heared him a take a sharp breath,

It took a moment for him to move, standing up and walking towards you, blocking your exit,, too much for hoping you think

"Good morning " his voice was hourse, raw, painful, how much did he cry

"morning" you replied standing in front of him drink in your hand, waiting for him to move

"..H-how did you sleep?" he asked, almost shy

"good, thanks for asking" you answered

With a slight flinch he backed up, giving you room to move and go to your lab

-

Miguel wantched you leave and then with a click, you were gone

He wondered how hard is it gonna be, if it isn't impossible

So now, sitting in the couch his brain trying to process what happened to him in those last few days

He killed his wife and daughter because he was selfish, destroying a universe in the process

He missed his actual wife's death when she waiting for him to return, he didn't get to say goodbye, he doesn't know if he deserve to do so

And you, with you cold eyes and colder replies, pouring acid into his wounds, he deserves it, he knows he does, but he wants to do right by you, try and fix whatever shattered glass left between you two, and it seems that it'll cut him every step of the way, and he doesn't mind one bit, as long as you don't wish him dead, that's all he wants, not forgiveness, not a relationship, not love, only a middle ground, to live with you without feeling the heavy air around

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the lab door open

"thanks Ben, I'll read it and take care of it" you said getting out, a screen showing that you're on a call with ben, another saving a report

"thanks dude! I'm sorry i didnt do it last night, i was so tired i fell asleep so quick!" the voice from the screen said

"don't worry about it I'll see you next time" you said hanging up..

Then a normal door opening and closing again,, the one to your room this time

He sighed, leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling above him

What wouldn't he give for forgiveness?

And then the door knocked...

He stood up to open it, and was shocked to find..

"hobart?"

In all his punky glory, with his wide and wild hair, shiny piercings, hobart brown was at his door step

He was smirking a cocky smile, one that fell the moment he laid eyes on the taller man, soon turning into a frown as he looked miguel up and down

Miguel was still confused..

Hobie recovered quick though, pushing past him and into the house, yelling "Ayo, smartass, where you at? You're never late!" into the house, it didn't surprise miguel that much, what did surprise him was you, coming out of your room, a playful frown on your face "I can get too occupied in a project from time to time" fixing you outfit

He stood there in the middle of the living room watching you walking around, collecting your, phone, wallet and anything else someone would need for an outing, hobie behind you talking about something or the other, he didn't really care

He knows he shouldn't ask, that he has no right to do so, but the words leave his mouth, forced.

"where are you going?"

-

You paused midway through your quick search for your stuff, looking at him, hobie also quieted down behind you, you know it a big deal when that happens

Hobie Brown was your closest friend,(he might say that someone earns such label when you have a bunch of friends, and then choose who you let in or not, which you don't, but you'll roll your eyes every time at it anyway) knows about your fathers, rather nostalgic trip he had for 12 years, only he and lyla do, he found out when came to loot in on your snacks and found you crying, rare, yes, but possible, he asked you what was wrong and you told him, what was a talk about your mother turned into your life story, he listened the whole time, only commenting after, he had alot of choice words, still does but you convinced him out of going to the universe your father was in and beating the crap out of him both for cheating and abandoning you

So now, the fact that he didn't have a "talk" with him is impressive, what's more so, is that he didn't answer miguel at the moment

Is he being funny?

No way he thinks that i must answer

Did he hit his head, is he insane?

Taking a breath, you look in his eyes, red irises, red and puffy "out." you said, continuing your tour around your house, then heading to the door where miguel stood, going past him and leaving, you could swear if you had a knife you could cut the tension he caused, as if he ever caused anything else to you

"be safe" he said

"as if they needed to hear that from you" hobie scoffed, slowly reaching his limits

"Come on we're gonna be late" you said, already out the door

sorry for not posting, just can't seem to write lately,but i promise to get them doe eventually!

[vellichxrr6782]

CHAPTER FIVE, you know that i bought it.

SYNOPSIS: after the first of many more days in the studio, you and childe are set up on a date by your managers. though the date is short, it still manages to send your feelings into a spiral of confusion.

CHARACTERS (in this chapter): childe, ningguang, yae miko (mentioned), zhongli (mentioned), jean (mentioned).

CW/TW: cussing, idk man handholding? maybe a bit fast-paced.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k words.

<- previous chapter | cruel summer masterlist | next chapter ->

"great work today, everybody. keep it up, keep at it, and i’ll see you all in a few days.” said the producer, ningguang. 

you had been filming for hours straight. yae was rather considerate today, since it was the first day of filming. of course, you knew well, her kindness would not last very long. it’s okay, though, you appreciated her and her dedication to perfecting her craft. 

the setting was that the female lead, you, were on the phone with your friend, explaining to her that you'd be fine alone on the flight. you were going to paris. 

initially, you'd planned on going to paris with your boyfriend, another character (who hadn't been chosen yet, so yae planned on postponing the scenes with him), but that plan was thrown in the trash when he broke up with you. he had to go abroad for his studies, so he didn't want to try long-distance with you. 

albedo wanted the ex to be redeemable in a sense, i guess. 

nevertheless, you're absolutely shattered by this, but in your newfound solidarity, you decide to go to paris all by yourself, so you could enjoy all alone. you were going to the city of love with no one to love but yourself.

you had also filmed the main scene with childe, where you meet him first. he was your seatmate on the flight, and you recognise him as your old friend from when you were children. instead of filming on an actual plane, the producer had the setmakers make a pretty realistic rendition of one.

you and childe catch up a bit, and finally land in the city of love. 

well, that would be later. ningguang had yet to book the tickets for the actual film crew to head to paris, which she planned on doing after the aforementioned scenes were filmed, and since they were, she would get started on the bookings.

nevertheless, that wasn’t your concern right now. your concern was the looming doom approaching you tonight. a date set up by zhongli, for you and childe.

ajax had sworn he'd never find someone as infuriating as you. in every situation, no matter the cost, no matter the circumstances, you were ever-so devoted to your act of "not giving a shit". 

two could play that game, sure. if childe didn't care, but he did now. ever since the incident the party, childe found himself caring a lot. he kinda saw it coming; he might seem dense but he really wasn't. it was just shocking that she would make it so public.

let bygones be bygones. he had to focus on the utter pain in the ass sitting in front of him.

you.

a romantic candlelight dinner at a 5-star restaurant. an intimate, lovely atmosphere. delicious warm food, with some of the best wine in the country. 

and, you, his date, scrolling through your phone, completely uninterested. 

it was like a stab in the stomach, to pay so much for a date (a fake date), and the person you're trying to "woo" is either bored out of their mind, or pretending to be bored to irritate you. you couldn't make it any less obvious that you didn't want to go anywhere with him.

childe furrowed his brows, annoyed, "hey, you do realise we're on a date, right?" 

"oh, really? i had no clue." you blinked innocently, "so sorry, ajax. i guess you could say, i have more important things to attend to."

"yeah, i'm sure texting jean about how much this situation sucks is very important." childe rolled his eyes, you sneered in response. "can you atleast try to act like we're a couple? you were the one who agreed to this in the first place."

"when i first agreed to this shitshow, i didn't think it would be this bad." you frowned, fiddling with your food. you really had no appetite, despite how good the food looked. "do we really have to go on a date?"

well, that's what the contract entailed. and the date part isn't even the worst of it, you've got to kiss, post cute pictures with cheesy captions like "with the love of my life" and "my snookums" and what-not. 

"if we wanna be convincing, then yeah." childe shrugged. "imagine the headlines, 'actors y/n and tartaglia, on a romantic date together'."

"or, more likely, the headlines, 'actress y/n snaps tartaglia's neck in a fit of rage'!" you grinned, "what were you on when you chose the stage name, 'tartaglia', anyway?"

"hey, it sounds cool!" childe replied, crossing his arms defensively.

"i think ajax suits you better. it's cute." you smiled, swirling around your beverage gently.

"it's... what?" his eyes widened at the sudden compliment, "did you just- am i hearing things?"

"oh." you realised your words, coughing to curb your embarrassment. "ahem. don't overreact. it's not like i've never complimented you before."

"you've never." childe deadpanned.

"moving on..." you trailed off, trying to change the topic, "what do couples do on dates like this?" 

the chatter of people around you 

childe smiled in a sly manner, reaching out to grab your hand. your eyes widened at the sudden physical contact.

"well, they hold hands." he stated, intertwining his fingers with yours. your hand was damp from holding your cold beverage, the tips freezing. childe's hands warmed yours, or maybe it was the blood rushing through your veins.

your cheeks flushed.

"and they call each other nicknames like darling and sweetheart." he leaned in, one arm pressed against the table, the other hand still holding yours.

"and they gaze into each other's eyes longingly..." his eyes met yours, with a hint of playfulness obvious in them. he smiled coyly, knowing he'd gotten you flushed. 

"and maybe, they kiss-" he came closer to your face, and your mind flashed back to the night at the party, when his lips met yours and you could smell his cologne and-

you shook those thoughts away, pulling away from ajax as quick as you could. he let out a laugh, his cheeks red.

"was that too much for you, darling?"

exasperating. tartaglia made your blood boil. "yeah, yeah, very funny." you rolled your eyes, too prideful and annoyed to admit that your heart was racing.

childe's laughter subsided, and his expression relaxed, "okay, how about... we make a deal?"

you raised a brow sceptically. "what kind of deal? i don't trust any of your antics."

"i'll try and not pull any weird tricks on you. i'll be your kind, caring, supportive and level-headed lover." he put a hand on his chest, as if he was solemnly swearing to something. "and you, in return, will wholeheartedly return my acts of affection. no rolling your eyes or scowling."

oh. well. that promise will either be broken in a heartbeat, or won't be made in the first place.

"that is... immensely difficult to do with someone like you." you stated, eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

"yeah, no, it isn't easy to be your lover, either." ajax pouted. "cut me some slack too."

ouch. well, he's not wrong. you're pretty closed off, and love really isn't a priority for you. 

especially if it's with tartaglia. 

you were just hesitant. remembering how childe did a full 180 on you all those years ago, you didn't wanna reignite whatever spark was there before, out of fear that he'd turn his back again on you.

"come on, we decided to start this mess, right? let's give it our all." he held out his hand for you to shake. regardless of his confident exterior, you could notice his hand shaking a little. he was hesitant too.

you let out a sigh, straightening yourself. "fine. deal." you said, shaking his hand. 

all childe spared you was a sly grin before smoothly taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

you froze, but scowled after a second, "you said no tricks, ajax."

"and you said you'd stop scowling." 

"you broke the deal first-!" 

"it was a test!"

"what kind of bullshit-"

and that’s how the rest of the night went, with you two arguing incessantly, talking about movies and scripts, talking about other people who worked in the industry. 

before you knew it, you started to enjoy yourself. shocking. you realised that you actually had a good time as childe walked you out of the restaurant, with your hand intertwined with his. 

you also realised just how unbearably close he was to you, and you could feel his warmth. you’d held his hand many times before, but just now, you were noticing all the lines on his palms, you were feeling how his knuckles felt, you were realising just how clammy his hands were getting.

maybe he realised what this situation was like, too. 

you looked up at him, he was lost in his thoughts. you tugged at his shirt, and he snapped out of whatever daydream he was having, and looked down at you. 

“hey, it’s diluc’s birthday in a few days.” you told him, and missed completely how childe’s expression soured at the mention of diluc. 

“uh… happy birthday to him, i guess.” childe replied, absentmindedly. 

“it’s not today, god. it’s in a few days, and kaeya’s hosting a surprise party.” you said, “are you attending?”

“i got an invite from kaeya, yeah, but i said no.” childe rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “i don’t really like diluc.” 

“you should attend regardless. it’ll be a good way for us to appear in public more as a couple.” you suggested, and noticed how his lips curved upwards at the mention of ‘couple’. “and! and… it’s basic courtesy, y’know.”

“right… i’ll give it some thought. didn’t know you cared.” 

“don’t make me regret requesting you to come.” 

he let out a laugh, and you narrowed your eyes, noticing how the corners of his eyes crinkled up.

“thanks for tonight, ajax.” you smiled, though it wasn’t forced. “it was alright.” 

“i don’t know what i should comment on, you genuinely thanking me, or saying it was ‘alright’ immediately after that.” childe replied, “well, i’m glad it was alright. text me when you get home.”

“you’ve never asked me to do that before.” you raised a brow.

“you’ve never come anywhere with just me that wasn’t the studio.” childe shrugged, “besides, i’m asking now, aren’t i? it would be improper of me to not make sure my girlfriend gets home safe.”

you felt the tips of your ears flush when you heard the term. “uh huh… and when does tartaglia care about being proper?” he playfully rolled his eyes in response.

“see you tomorrow.” he said, opening the door to the taxi he had booked for you. “good night, y/n.”

you wished him a good night, and went on your way. you couldn’t help but look out the window, and observed how he waved at you, smiling. 

he has a pretty smile. 

…

wait, what?

published on; 21st august, 2023. writing belongs to @/vellichxrr6782 on tumblr

[im-just-a-little-freak]

Monster Hunter eaten by another monster Hunter

Warning: safe vore, non-descriptive injuries characters: reader, hellboy, dr broom, Abe (mentioned)

story under cut

You looked at your phone, waiting to see if you got that job at the cafè you had applied to earlier that week, the phone screen bright in the darkened room.

You had only just moved to New York two weeks ago, looking for a new life and A tad bit of adventure, not that the huge city could offer much adventure, but the stories were… interesting.

Tales of demons and monsters in the sewers and train tracks. That Was the main reason you moved there, the horror stories of what happens when the lights go out, the many sightings of things that shouldn't exist, the pictures of all sorts of monsters. All filled your horror-obsessed mind with ideas. And being a wood-be Monster Hunter, you wanted to find some monsters.

A dig came from your phone, taking you out of your daydreams of monster hunting and adventure, you looked down at it and saw a notification from the manager of the café and it simply said "Can you start tomorrow?" You frowned at the text, monster hunting could wait, and you had work to do, much to your annoyance.

the next few days had been boring as all hell, you mopped floors, cleaned tables and listened to angry middle-aged women yell at you for ever daring to ask if they wanted sugar in their tea. It wasn't the worst job you have ever worked, but it was up there! Your boss wasn't great either, he was rude and entitled, acting as if he owned a huge company that everyone knew about, it was a tiny hole-in-the-wall café, a few crumbs on a table won't kill anyone.

weekends were fun though, you didn't work so you could wander, normally to museums and libraries, looking for myths and legends of monsters and demons. What can you say, it fueled your desire for adventure.

It was a day at one of these museums that you find yourself in today, looking at paintings of demons being Banished to hell, the images of the hideous beasts being shoved down by beautiful angelic men and women where amazing portraits, the paint old and shining on its canvas.

"beautiful piece isn't it?" someone said, an older man said, he wasn't very tall and had white hair and wore a brown suit, you smiled "Yeah, it's marvellous, must have taken a lot of time" you replied and looked back at the painting, you could see the individual brush strokes on the canvas making up the picture. "professor broom" the old man introduced himself, yet still looked up at the painting, you looked at him, and looked back up to the painting "(Readers name), nice to meet you"

you continued to speak to the old man, he was polite and quite kind, you learned he was alive in world war two and had an adopted son who he did not name, and that he was here for work, you found it odd that a man of his age was still working, but you didn't say anything about it as too not offended him, he seemed capable to work.

He soon left the museum, saying that his son would be wondering where he was and that he didn't want to worry him, you nodded understandingly and the old man went on his way, leaving you to admire the masterful art exhibits of The museum.

When you left for the day, kissing the gorgeous paintings goodbye, it had begun to rain, which was not ideal, but you stored into the rain, waving a taxi down and getting them to take you home.

The next day was annoyingly a work day, you woke up, got the taxi to the cafe and checked in, dressing in the blue and brown uniform, you stood in front of the register and took orders, you had mastered it by now and could take orders in seconds, a useful skill. although in itself, the day was a bland drag, you couldn't stand it! The minutes ticked by like hours and prayed for the end of your shift as if it was the second coming of Jesus.

Well, lucky for you, the boredom was going to end shortly.

you heard a shout coming from outside, and in a second, the cafe's windows were shattering, making you back into a wall, you looked outside to see a huge fleshy worm-like creature covered In spikes squirming its way by the buildings. Its body hit the cafe again, and you felt the walls begin to collapse as the huge worm hit against it again, All you could think of doing was crouching and covering the top of your head with your arms as you watched the chaos outside.

You heard screaming from outside the shop, and then gunshots, and an inhuman shriek, you looked up.

a large red person was jumping around on the worm, along with a blue person following close behind, you didn't know if this scared you or fascinated you, you were looking at the creatures you dreamed of, the monsters you had wanted to see your whole life…and they could kill you!

you tried to move, but your legs hurt, a shooting pain spiking into your body as you attempted to move, and you cried out tears springing from your eyes and running down your cheeks, you looked, your leg had been crushed by the debris of the building. it hurt, a lot, you tried moving again, and more pain shot up your back, you cried out again, this time louder, now praying for something to save you, like an angel or-

"you really shouldn't call out like that when a death worm is so close"…a demon, you looked up, the red creature that had been attacking the worm had heard you.

at seeing him, the red skin, the yellow eyes and the massive right hand, your panic increased, you make a shrieking sound, now trying to pull away from the demon in front of you, who grunted in annoyance.

"you trying to worsen that leg? I know I ain't a pretty sight, but I didn't think you'd be that admitted to getting away from me" As he spoke, he placed his hand on your back, making you stop struggling, making you wince in fear.

he dragged you out from under the piece of ceiling, it hurt, but only for a few seconds, and he held you like a cat, you're body dangling.

he looked at your legs and grunted "Eh crap, that ain't good" This made you panic even more, and you almost instantly tried to look at your legs, but he growled a warning at you "Don't look at that, you'll be even more scared" you looked back at him, still terrified, you didn't get to see your legs, but that still terrified you, making you want to look more.

"I can fix it, but I'll need to do a little something first," he said more calmly and held you more security, you felt terrified, you couldn't help but be terrified of what this demon could do, you were so frightened that you didn't notice yourself becoming light-headed, you only realised something was happening as you saw the demon getting visibly larger.

you obviously panicked, trying to flail but the pain in your legs caused you to immediately stop, almost screaming in pain, the large demon who held you murmured "Don't do that, you're only gonna hurt yourself" and now only held you in one hand, his far smaller left hand.

you only stopped shrinking when you were around the size of a small cat, you looked at him, and despite him saying he was gonna fix your legs, you were still terrified of the massive demon.

he spoke again, this time with a bit of an apologetic tone "Alright, I lied, I'm gonna do another thing before I heal you" You were confused for a second, but immediately felt terrified as he opened his mouth. you instinctively tried to struggle away from him, but the shooting pain in your legs and back made you stop any attempts to get away from him, he quickly eased you into his mouth, his bright red tongue licking at you as he did, covering you in sticky saliva, and he swallowed you up, closing his mouth.

you were squeezed down a tight tube that amazingly didn't hurt your probably shattered legs and slid into a far larger area, it was warm, and your panicked mind took that warmth as his stomach acid, but you didn't move, you just sat there, shaking and crying.

"let me out…please" you begged, you had never been this scared before, you regretted moving here, you wouldn't be about to die if you didn't move here.

"sorry, but I can't let you out" the demon that surrounded you said, sounding almost apologetic, maybe he did, just not enough to let you out.

you found it a tad ironic that the reason for your being eaten was your obsession with monsters, and now, you had been eaten by one, and you were going to die inside of it.

You lay there, silently crying, you wanted to punch him, to kick him, maybe give him a stomach ache out of pure spit, but you didn't have the energy and you were in horrible pain…at least the warmth of his belly soothed your legs…

you felt him walking, and heard him call out to someone "ABE!! HOLD IT THERE FOR A SECOND, I CAN GET A CLEAR SHOT!!" You flinched as he yelled, it was even louder from inside his stomach, and a few seconds later, you heard a gunshot, and then another, and felt him continue walking. You dipped out of conciseness about then but woke up maybe a minute later as you heard him talking to someone, you couldn't make out any words over your tiredness, and you promptly fell asleep again, this time for much longer.

You woke up again, feeling the demon walking again, your legs didn't feel as sore, and you began to wonder why and how you were still alive. you heard a door open and close, then felt your host flop down on his back, onto a bed you thought.

He lay like that for around a minute, then sat up "You still asleep?" He patted his stomach as he spoke, you didn't respond for a second, then mumbled "yes" still terrified of him.

He lay back down, and rested his hand on his stomach "I haven't eaten this well in months, you tasted amazing by the way" You weren't sure whether you should feel threatened or flattered, it was a compliment…but it wasn't a great one in this situation.

He hummed at your lack of response "Hm, how's the legs, are they healing well?" You were confused, but your legs did feel better, and then it hit you, he was healing you, you were shocked, looking at where his voice was coming from before muttering "You're healing me?"

"yep, didn't I tell you that…hm, sorry for not saying anything then" he grumbled out, the relief was amazing, a strong sense of euphoria washing over you as you relaxed "Thank you…wow" Maybe you shouldn't believe him, but you couldn't do much else, and you were so SO tired, and the comfort of you being able to wake up tomorrow with unbroken legs may have been the best feeling you had ever felt in your life.

you slowly fell asleep again, the warmth and comfort of the organ that held you inside it not feeling nearly as threatening as it did earlier, and the owner or said organ feeling just as redeemed from your fear

[garciaasfluffypen]

bright beginnings pt 7.

pairing: single dad!joseph quinn x fem!reader  wc: 1.5k  warnings: none

part six • part eight

a/n: IM SORRY IM SORRY I DIDNT NOTICE THIS WENT INTO THE BOTTOM OF MY QUEUE BECAUSE MY DUMBASS DIDNT SCHEDULE THE POST anyway enjoy a joe pov as a lil treat

being holed up in an office all day was not something joseph anthony francis quinn had figured would be in his books. but he found himself taking over the daycare he had devoted his life to, making it his lifes mission to revamp it from the inside out and make it better.

from his short time as owner, there were a gazzilion things he would like to change, including some staffing issues that were bothering him. out of the ten girls that worked there, y/n, destiny and claire were the three girls who were full time, meaning that they got the bulk of the hours. that had to change. there were two girls who dropped, saying they didn't have time to work much due to university, which left eight girls left to work. meaning if he split all the bulk of the hours with the three full timers… that left the part time girls jack shit. he felt horrible only giving some of the girls only ten hours a week, but there was only so much he could do without making more of them full time. he had been stuck in the office for about three hours now trying different versions of the schedule to figure out what would make the girls happy. bringing the full timers down from 45 to 32 opened up a chunk of hours he could divvy out between the other girls based on their availability, which could make it a bit easier. four of the eight girls had tight schedules due to uni, meaning he could potentially get a few more girls who were requesting more hours the hours they wanted.

but that was a headache for another day.

shutting his laptop, joe decided to step out into the playroom, where y/n was in charge of today. it was his idea to start having the girls rotate through the rooms, so that way all the kids could get acclimated to each staff member in case there needed to be any sort of coverage. so far, it seemed to be working well, especially because the twins started to open up to a few of the other girls rather than just sticking to y/n’s side all day. granted, days in the playroom were the harder days, because all riley and thomas wanted to do was play with her. it’s what started joe talking to them every day before coming in to remind them that yes, you can play with y/n but you need to let the other boys and girls play with her too. it went well for approximately five minutes before he realized they were wholeheartedly attached to her, and by god if he didn’t do something about it the twins would hate him forever.

he had to admit, she was cute. if it wasn’t for him being caught up in a messy divorce, he totally would have already asked you out on a date. but he had to hold himself off, knowing that julia would one hundred percent use that against him because that’s the kind of person she was. he didn’t know why they had even gotten together in the first place, not counting the fact that she wanted to appease her mother. set-up relationships never ended up working well, he found, and most of them reminded him of HR relationships- the ones you could always tell were fake. the ones that made people think love was real, only to shatter them to pieces when it came out that surprise, your faves weren’t actually together.

love was most definitely not that. and not what he had with julia.

before he could go down that wormhole again, his phone buzzed.

[ grace!! - 3:30pm ] joeee what are you doing tonight???? i miss youuuuuu

grace was one of his best friends from school. he and wesley had taken her under their wing the second she stepped into LAMDA, and the three of them had become inseparable. she had moved to london from america to pursue acting, considering it was one of the best acting schools in the world. joe definitely missed being on stage, but he had made the promise to himself that he would make more of an effort to provide for his kids, since acting could wait until they were a bit older.

[ 3:31pm ] do you miss me, or miss the kids? lol [ grace!! - 3:32pm ] obviously you, you’re my bestie! [ grace!! - 3:32pm ] but seriously what are you doing, rehearsal was canceled tonight [ 3:33pm ] not much, probably watching frozen with the kids and trying to avoid watching steve and maggie. you wanna pop over for tea? xx [ grace!! - 3:33pm ] is that even a question??? i’ll be there at five :)

looking over at the clock, joe figured he could pop out to the floor for about an hour before taking the twins home. saturdays were pretty light if he were being honest, so it probably wouldn’t be that big of a deal if he left a few hours earlier. most of the kids were gone by six anyway, so him leaving an hour early shouldn’t be horrid.

and then he could talk about his crush on y/n.

grace was there through the whole julia ordeal, meaning she knew all the ups and downs and the ahem “marriage” that julia’s mother basically shoved down joe’s throat, placing the ring in his hand and telling him to “get a goddamn move on”. yes, the loves of his life came out of it, but he hated julia and her dramatics and the need to make the divorce so much more than it needed to be. it was driving him up the walls, including the stupid custody agreement they were working on. he was doing his best to keep a level head, but it was getting to the point where he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. but grace was the level headedness he needed, always helping him figure everything out with wording and when to meet with lawyers and everything. she was definitely a light in his life, and he loved her to bits.

but his real loving nature was saved for y/n.

not that she’d ever get with him. he could always pretend that she was indeed flirting back with him. because while he really liked her, he was her boss. there were so many issues with that. but he also owned the daycare. and they didn’t have an HR person because it was a mom and pop shop. hell, he literally runs the facebook page. he could do whatever he wanted, right? … right?

“daddy!”

joe held his arms out as riley and thomas ran up to him, almost tackling him to the ground with their combined force.

“my angels! how has your day been?”

riley looked up at joe with her adorable little doe eyes. “daddy come play?”

“i gotta go talk to some of the lovely ladies a bit, but then we’re gonna go see grace!”

“grace comin?”

“yes, grace is coming for tea.”

out of the corner of his eye, joe noticed y/n turn away and start picking up in the playroom, trying to busy herself and not pay attention to the conversation. of course he would go and mention grace in front of her, after flirting with her so openly. just his fucking luck.

“grace bring wes?” thomas’ face lit up in excitement at the idea of two of his favorite people coming over.

“wes is at work, bub. he’ll come tomorrow, okay?”

“otay.”

“let me go say hi to the girls before we pop out, okay? go play with the toys.”

as joe rose from his crouching position, he noticed that y/n was stuck in the storage closet. stupidly, he decided to go around to all the other classrooms before coming back to the playroom to check on her before they popped out. the other girls were doing okay, which was good to hear. everything seemed to be going good since the rotation started, and it was showing. he stepped back into the playroom to gather riley and thomas, noticing that destiny was in, y/n being nowhere in sight. upsetting as that was for him, he did promise the kids that he would get them home to see grace. and besides, he really needed to talk to someone about his crush on y/n.

the ride home wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, and the twins were relatively quiet but bubbling with excitement as they got closer and closer to the flat. soon as they saw grace’s car in the driveway, they started giggling and screaming, and joe couldn’t help but chuckle. grace held out her arms as the kids ran into them, picking them both up with ease and swinging around in a circle. she smiled at joe as he grabbed the bags from the passenger seat and took them inside, setting stuff down in the front room and taking them all into the kitchen to get the tea ready.

“so, who is she?”

“what?”

“you only wear your nice shirt anywhere when there’s someone you want to impress.” grace raised an eyebrow. “so who are you trying to impress, joe?��

joe sighed. “we’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“oh, i bet.”