#I spent far more time on this than I'd care to admit

[gojonanami]

GOT YOU - SATORU GOJO

☆ summary: satoru finally found you -- and he's not going to let you go this time. (in other words, feral dub gojo had me by the throat). ☆ cw: 18+ only, dead dove, do not eat, smut, yandere!gojo, non/con (at the start), dub/con, mentions of noncon masturbation w/ clothes/in bed, manipulation, gaslighting, light choking, degradation (slut, whore), fingering (f!receiving), panty sniffing, oral (f!receiving), breeding kink, cumplay (slightly), multiple orgasms. ☆ wc: 3,132

“Got you,” a familiar voice hums in your ear, and the floor was yanked from under you - mentally and physically, because now you were pinned to the floor, looking up at the same blue eyes you had prayed you would never see again, “miss me sweetheart?” 

And he knew the answer from the wide eyes and trembling lips, but that only made him all the more eager. He leans down, pressing his lips to your soft cheek, “come on, baby, not even a hello? I’d even settle for a kiss or a smile,” he pouts, feeling your hands squirm under his grasp, as he straddled you, “trying to wave hello? Thought we were closer than that,” he hums, “don’t I deserve a warmer welcome, after all the effort I took to find you? To wait here all day for you,” 

You swallow the bile rising in your throat, harsh and bitter, as bitter as the words you wished to scream at him - but you know that would get you nowhere, “how about you let me go, and I’ll give you the welcome you deserve?” And the quaver in your voice isn’t what gives you away, he knows you all too well, and you know he won’t let you go that easy. 

“Aw baby, I'd love to believe you,” he sighs dramatically, “but after I lost you for two years, I can’t risk you slipping away again,” he noses your neck, inhaling deeply, “I had to have such patience over the last few weeks, had to make sure you hadn’t picked up on my presence, and you didn’t,” he grins, as he traces a finger down your jaw, “you know how hard it was? I spent so many mornings in your bed after you went to work, slept in it, still warm from your body, and I could smell you,” his lips curled into a smile that would have been so gorgeous, if it weren’t terrifying, “made me so needy for you baby, I had to relieve myself,” he admits with a sigh, “luckily, your hamper was full of clothes with your scent, and in your bed, it made it even easier,” 

And your stomach twisted at the thought of him touching himself in your bed — and oh god, with what clothes? 

His thumb brushes against the length of your cheek, “why did you run from me, baby?” and you’re silent — he knows why you ran. 

Satoru Gojo was perfect when he was your best friend — the perfect shoulder to cry on when one of your crushes didn’t work out, when a job prospect didn’t pan out, or a friend had hurt your feelings. What you didn’t know was he was the reason none of these crushes ever had worked out, why a job prospect that took you too far from him didn’t hire you, and why these friends who hurt your feelings and took up too much of your time had left shortly after. But to you, he was your savior, his compassion limitless, his patience infinite — and so you fell for him, just as he knew you would. It was a drunken kiss one night when he knew you were vulnerable, when he knew that your feelings for him were so close to the surface, you couldn’t help but kiss him. And kissing lead to a confession, and then the two of you were together. 

It was perfect — for a while. 

Soon, you couldn’t deal with his jealousy — over coworkers, friends, even your family, and with his controlling tendencies — he wanted you to spend every waking moment with him, he even wanted you to quit your job, to let him take care of you, and you couldn’t handle his constant suspicion — the constant questions of where you were (even when you had told him) and the accusations that came along with them. 

So you tried to break it off — tried. The first few times, Satoru sweet talked his way back into your heart — and your bed — with false promises and sweet kisses. But that soon wore old when his promises remained broken and his kisses left you with a bitter taste in your mouth. And when you tried to leave for good once — your bags packed — he had grabbed you, held you down, and stared at you with the same paralyzing look he gave you now, lips twisted into a smile you had never seen before, as he whispered the same two words he said when he greeted you now, “Got you,” and then he added, “and I’m never letting you go.” 

“Are you going to answer?” the present Satoru snaps you back to reality with a gentle hand around your throat, his thumb running over the hollow, before he kisses it, “or should I make you?” 

“Satoru, please, stop—” 

“That’s what you always say, baby,” he rolls his eyes, as if he was exasperated, “and then you always end up under me, begging for more,” and he squeezes your throat lightly, “nothing but a little slut, aren’t you?” and you gasp, as he loosens his grip again, “have you whored yourself out to any of those men at work?” and he’s grazing his teeth against your jawline, “if I leave a mark, that should keep them away, right? They’ll know you have a loving boyfriend — one who’s not afraid to claim what’s his,” and he’s smiling again, “now, tell me, have you slept with anyone else?” 

And you don’t want to answer — the answer’s no, you hadn’t, but you didn’t know whether that would make it worse or better. But his hand around your throat tells you, you don’t have a choice. 

“No, I haven’t,” you confess — and his smug grin only serves to irritate you, as he sighs far too contently, parting your legs as he moves to settle between them, “please don't—” 

“I have to check, don’t I, princess?” he murmurs, and his hand is drifting up your tight skirt, “such a slutty skirt for someone who hasn’t been sleeping around. Did you wear it just for me?” and he’s raising a brow, as his fingers roll your skirt higher, fabric straining as he did, “well, I don’t want you wearing it for anyone else, so—“ and the fabric tears apart, your legs jumping as he does, and his lips press to your knee, “there’s my perfect baby,” 

Your hands are free as his hands busy themselves with spreading your leg, inhaling your scent, as his fingers trail up your inner thighs. Your hands are trying to push him away, kicking your legs helplessly, but he’s got them under his grasp. Fingers pressing into the soft flesh a little too hard, and you know he’s going to leave bruises at some point or another.  

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he hums when he finds a wet spot on your underwear, “look, you’re already ruining your underwear, and I’ve barely even started  — you’ve been wanting this too,” and your hand finds his face, trying and failing to push him away, but he only licks the space between your fingers, “now be a good girl for me or I’ll make you,” the last words a growl, “and you don’t want me to do that,” but he feels you grow more damp with your slick as his fingers press against your clit through your underwear, “or maybe you do.” 

“Satoru, please don’t do this,” you’re begging, but his crystalline gaze only grows more cold, as his lips curl as he sees hot, fat tears well in your eyes, “just let me go, I won’t run. I just don’t-“ 

“C’mon now, what’s wrong? How could I ever let you go?” He coos, as he watches the first tear roll down your cheek, as he leans down and tastes it, “I need you, baby, and now that I got you,” his two fingers sneak into the elastic of your underwear, snapping it against your skin, “I’ll never let you leave my sight again,” 

You flinch from his touch, squirming underneath him, “Please, I-I’ll do anything, just don’t—“ and his thumb pressed against your lips, as his lidded eyes and smirk only draw nearer. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, don’t you remember? You asked for this — you made me promise to never leave you,” twisting the words you had muttered to him that drunken night, whispered after your first kiss with him and now he purred them as he bent down, breath warming your lips, as he tilted your chin up, “and I always keep my promises,” 

“Now tell me,” he smiles that same smile that had caught your heart, “tell me you want this,” he’s nibbling at your neck, and you’re melting into his touch — and he knows you’re so close to submission, “tell me, baby,” 

And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, your body burning from his touch, “I want you,” 

His lips curl into a wide grin, teeth flashing. 

He kisses you, lips sliding against yours, and your lips shut even as his tongue tried to slip inside. And he bites your bottom lip, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips, and his tongue plunges in, as you moan, boneless and helpless. 

And his hands slide down your sides, teasing the hem of your shirt, “Fuck, baby, I’m addicted to you — you taste so good,” and he’s tugging your shirt over your head, as his lips attach themselves to your jaw. You whimper as his teeth draw marks along your jaw, before trailing a path down your neck, kissing the hollow of your throat, before leaning down to the swell of your breasts right above your bra. 

His fingers press against your soaked panties, the fabric doing little to prevent the full force of his touch, thick and mean fingers rubbing harsh circles against your clit, “Too fast,” you whine, back arching against the rough carpet of your living room, “too much,” your mouth falling cutely open and eyelashes fluttering, as your slick leaks through the thin material making his fingers grow sticky. 

“But your pretty cunt doesn’t agree, sweetheart,” he reaches around and unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, his teeth grazing your nipple before sucking, a grunt leaving your throat, heat blooming a trail down between your legs, “it wants me to fill you — fill you like you deserve,” and he’s pulling your panties down your thighs and then pulls them to his nose, “so fucking sweet,” and he’s pocketing them for later use — your cum not going to be the only thing staining it later. 

And he’s slipping down your body, kissing down your breasts, mouthing each nipple, before placing wet kisses between the valley of your chest, and down your stomach, pausing to slip his tongue into your bellybutton to make you gasp, as he hums against your skin. 

“Been dreaming of tasting this sweet pussy,” he sighs dreamily, as he settles between your thighs, his large hands spreading you open for him, fingers spreading your dripping folds, making you clench around nothing, before, not one, but two fingers slip inside with ease, making you choke on air, as he steadily begins to fuck you open, “you sure you haven’t whored yourself out baby, or do you just want my cock that badly?” and he tuts, “nah, can’t be. You’re too tight, so fucking gorgeous,” 

And you swallow thickly, hating the way his words make your resolve buckle — want seeping through the cracks, leaving only need behind — why were you weak for him like this? He knew you too well — knew where to touch, knew what to say to make you lose all sense, and he knew he could. 

And he would do it too. 

Soon enough, he’s pulling his digits from you, only the tips pressed inside as he spreads you, his mouth leaning do to press a sloppy kiss to your weeping cunt, “this pretty thing was made f’me, wasn’t it, princess?” and his hot tongue dragging your release up and down your pussy, before his fingers sink again for a hot minute, deeper than they had until they find that spot that has you seeing stars, making you moan louder, “Ah, this is where you’re weak, right, pretty baby?” And his mouth latches to your clit, sucking as his fingers bully your walls, “fuck, you’re so wet f’me, practically leaking all over your carpet, now what will your guests think?” he hums, a grin on his lips, “maybe after I fuck you, I’ll make you lick it all up f’me, clean up your mess,” 

And his words drive you over the edge, making you cum all over his fingers, your slick slipping onto his palm, as he pulls his fingers from you as you moan wantonly, his tongue darting out to lick and clean his fingers clean, pressing his digits into his mouth, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve tasted, baby,” and he’s parting you again with the tips of his fingers, before his tongue slips in. 

And his tongue parts your cunt, beginning to fuck you in earnest now, as his jaw aches as he does, hot and warm muscle reaching depths you didn’t know were possible. He’s licking, prodding, and sucking, and your soft grunts and moans only made him even harder, straining in his pants, “g’nna make me cum in my pants baby from your taste and sounds alone,” and you’re already so close, too close — your first orgasm making you so sensitive, but right as you give that telltale clench,  he’s pulling away a moment, to watch your chest rise and fall with half lidded eyes glazed over with lust, pretty, pretty cunt quivering from the lack of sensation, and a long whine leaving your lips. 

“Want you to cum on my cock this time, baby, not in my mouth,” he says, lips and chin glossy with your slick, “we have time for that later,” and now you’re growing desparate as he just watches you, cleaning up your release from his mouth, tongue darting out to lick what he could, before using the back of his hand to wipe away what he couldn’t. 

And the plea leaves your mouth before you realize it, “Please,” you swallow thickly, your words weak and broken, “Satoru, please,” 

“Please, what?” he teases, as he pulls his shirt cover his head, your eyes raking over his abs and lingering on the v-line as his sweatpants rode low, doing very little to hide the large bulge that your eyes were glued to, “want me to split you open with my cock?” and he wanted nothing more, as he slips his pants and boxers off with ease, his dick nearly slapping against his stomach as he did, a pearly white bead of pre-cum resting on the flushed red tip, his hand grasping it, as he pumped it slowly to spread his release, “gonna have to use your words baby, don’t care if they’ve been fucked out of that little brain of yours,” 

You pout so beautifully, bottom lip quivering, all of your resistance and fear eroded away by lust and need, “I want you, need you to fuck me, please, Toru,” you squirm, thighs parting for him, “need you inside me, please,” 

It doesn’t take more than a second before the tip of his dick is pressed to your folds, “Look at you now, baby — you were begging me to leave, and now you’re begging for this cock,” and you’re moaning as he feeds your insides his dick, inch by inch, “fuck, practically swallowing me up — want to be fucked that bad baby?” And finally he’s inside you, fully seated in your sweet cunt, “or maybe, you want me to fuck a baby into you? Want me to breed this pretty pussy, sweetheart? Make me a daddy?”

And he’s starts to fuck you, hips snapping against yours — and he was unrelenting in his pace, cock breaching and bullying your insides, brushing against your sweet spot again and again. Your teeth bared down on your bottom lip, trying to hold back your noises, but he can’t have that, can he? 

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “Wanna hear every pretty sound, sweetheart, wanna hear you scream my name as I fuck you,” and he begins to fuck you even harder, hips slapping against you, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching from his cock, your sweet moans of his names, and lust glazed over gaze was almost too much for him. 

But it only made him more desperate to fuck you harder, until all you could feel was him between your legs for the next month, as he grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders, making himself sink even deeper, deeper, deeper. 

And it was too much, too much for you, as you came around his cock for the first time in two years, and god, it was the most beautiful thing Satoru had seen. Your mouth parted in ecstasy as your release slicked up his cock, as he fucked your cum back into you, as your princess cunt clamped down on him hard, again and again.

You were moaning his name again and again, the only word you knew now, mouth parted open as he fucked you through your orgasm, “Yeah, baby, cum on my cock, pretty pussy was made just for that. Gonna make you cum again and again, until you can’t live without my cock between your legs. You’d like that, huh? Make you walk around with my cum inside you, even when I get you pregnant, I’ll fuck you again and again, until you’re leaking with me.” 

And you’re just moaning, nodding and broken, lost to the pleasure, as he grits his teeth, cock twitching at the sight before him, watching his dick slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release around the base of his cock. 

It wasn’t much longer, until he notched his cock as deep as he could, holding himself as he gave only shallow thrusts, his hot release pumping into you, continuing to fuck it deeper, “gotta make sure it sticks, don’t we, sweetheart” he murmurs with a smile, as he captures your lips in a kiss, cock still stuffed inside of you, “can’t let you get away from me now. It’d be much harder with a baby, won’t it?” 

And he’s easing himself out, groaning as he watches your mixed releases beginning to trickle out as the tip of his cock slaps against your weeping cunt. He pools the cum on his fingers, pushing it back in, making you flinch and moan, utterly blissed out, eyes fluttering as you gazed up at him. 

He only smiles the same way he always did, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” 

☆ a/n: i usually don't write things like this (i.e. non/con), but the dub feral gojo lines lived rent free in my head, until i wrote this (they still do, it's fine) I also don't post fics this often, but I am writing a lot of fics.

☆ tag list: @d1rtv, @crazynocturnalkiki, @ichikanu, @dazailover1900, @sinnerstardoll, @bisexualpanicwentoutforasmoke, @dumbabie, @aureatekintsugi, @mooly-artistic, @miss-nightray

[phossiii]

｡𖦹°‧⭑ monsters: chapter nine

synopsis: phosphorus proposes an arrangement for when you both get back to belle reve. and then you both get busy in the royal broom closet.

cw: reader is a monster, mature themes, violence, profanity, innuendos, phosphorus is phosphorus, you both obviously do it

"This should help," you warned from your spot on the floor, igniting your hand with hellflame. "I don't know how resistant your powers make you to fire, but either way it might sting a bit."

As you paused a moment, Phosphorus took a few breaths, gathering himself before slowly moving his hand away from his gash, allowing you to carefully grab his arm and hold it in front of you.

Once you were sure he was ready, you pressed a flaming palm against his wound, forcing a loud, painful groan to rip from his throat.

"Jesus fucking Christ, (y/n)!"

"I know, I know. But it's gonna hurt even more if you keep squirming like that..."

Angry, his gaze turned to Weasel, who sat across the hallway with a few thankful guards, happily accepting their scratches and head-pats of gratitude.

"Un-fucking-believable," he scoffed, under his breath. "He gets the fish girl killed, tears apart my arm, and somehow he's the freaking hero?!"

"You want the knights to pet you, Phosphorus?" the Bride turned to him, sharply, annoyed.

"Well... yes," he responded, simply. "If there hands didn't burn off? Maybe. You know what it's like not being touched for fifteen years?"

Hearing the slight pain in his voice, your heart couldn't help but tug.

That night you two spent together... was that the first time in fifteen years that he'd touched a woman?

Although the thought was innately disheartening, you couldn't help the faint swell of pride and possessiveness that awoke in your veins.

As far as you knew, you were the only woman in the world he could be with without horribly maiming her in some way.

The only one he could kiss.

The only one he could hold.

The only one he could feel.

That fact brought you more satisfaction than you cared to admit.

It was selfish... it was sadistic... but was such a goddamn relief.

"Yes... I do."

And with that, the Bride stood from her seat, starting off toward the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Phosphorus asked, raising a brow.

"I'll be back," she answered, darkly, before turning the corner.

"There," you sighed, extinguishing your flame and removing your palm to reveal his arm, now healed. "Good as new."

Phosphorus huffed in amusement, surprised, as he flexed his hand, the pain completely gone along with any sign of the wound ever being there.

"That's a neat trick you got there," he commended, genuinely. "Can't even tell where it was."

"Yeah, well, enjoy it. That's your only freebie," you joked, halfheartedly. "Next time'll cost you."

"Oh, yeah?" he cocked a brow, his pointer and his thumb hooking on your chin and pulling you closer, until your mouth was just a hair away from his. "How much?"

"Alex..." you warned, eyes flicking toward the guards, who, luckily, were still fawning over Weasel. "Not here."

"Don't you think I deserve a little reward for my chivalry? I protected your body when you went all catatonic."

"You sat next to me while I was asleep. I'd hardly call that chivalry."

"I put a couple leaves under your head as a pillow."

"My fist has a direct route to your dick at this angle. You wanna keep talking or do what I asked?"

With an annoyed groan, he dropped your chin, leaning back in his seat and allowing you to stand up.

But before you could even rise to your full height, he shot up from his seat, tossing you over his shoulder and starting off down the hall in one fluid motion.

"What the—?! Alex! Put me down! What the fuck are you doing?!" you exclaimed, face burning with embarrassment.

"You said not here. So we're going somewhere private."

Turning the corner, he came up on a broom closet and immediately yanked it open, tossing you in before joining you and shutting the door behind himself.

Though... not all the way.

"Who the fuck do you think you a—?!"

Quickly, Phosphorus's hand clasped over your mouth, forcing you to pipe down.

"For once in your life, shut that pretty, little mouth and listen."

His tone lit up your body like a live-wire, reminding you so vividly of the events of that night.

God, did you have a thing for bossy men?

He paused for a moment, waiting for some sort of retort; but when he realized you weren't going to say anything, he smirked, his hand slowly dropping from your face.

"Good girl," he nodded, smoothly, his hand coming to rest on the wall behind you. "Now, there are some things we have to discuss before we're shipped off back to Bell Reve."

Intrigued, you remained quiet, swallowing thickly at his close proximity, the heat of his radiation rolling over you in waves within the confined space.

"I don't know what this is, and, frankly, I don't care to figure it out," Phosphorus started, plainly, his eyes trailing up and down your body with a look of carnal need. "But I like it... and I like you. So I propose a deal."

You raised a brow, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Go on..."

"You become mine," he stated. "My girl, my gal, my woman, I don't give a shit what you wanna call it. But you're mine. And I get to touch you and hold you and kiss you whenever I like... in exchange for mind-blowing sex."

...

You almost laughed in his face.

"Yours?" you scoffed, amused. "What on earth gave you the insinuation that I'd ever want to be yours?"

"Don't play dumb, doll face. I've seen the way you look at me."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Like you wanna eat me."

"More like strangle you."

"If that's what gets you off..."

"My God, you're really serious about this."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"What do you gain from me being your prison girlfriend?"

"Not prison girlfriend. You'd still be mine when we're on missions."

"This is insane."

"Is it that hard to believe I enjoy your company?" Phosphorus asked, stepping closer, forcing your back to press against the wall as his hand slid down your side, resting on your hip. "Among... other things?"

"Alex..." you warned once again, suddenly breathless.

"How about I give you a trial run?"

"Wha—oh!"

His hands gripped your ass cheeks, allowing him to hoist you up and further press you into the wall.

His lips were on yours in an instant, kissing you impatiently as he groaned into your mouth, already overwhelmed by how good you felt in his grasp.

"Alex—"

"These are gone," he whispered, using his powers to burn the button off your pants.

You'd survived the past week or so without intimacy perfectly fine—save for a few urges or intrusive thoughts— but hearing the want, hearing the need, in Phosphorus's voice reminded you why you had sex with him in the first place.

Your eyes rolled back as he started panting in your ear, yanking off your shorts and tucking your panties in his pocket before carefully sliding his two fingers into your mouth.

"Suck."

And to his severe arousal, you complied, staring directly into his eyes as you made a show out of dragging your tongue over his irradiated middle finger.

'Fucking Christ...'

If only he had enough patience to have those pretty lips around his cock...

Before he could get too distracted, he quickly pulled them out and plunged them inside your wet cunt, attaching his lips to your neck in the meanwhile.

"A-Alex..." you moaned, allowing your eyes to fall shut and your leg to wrap around him, his free hand holding up your thigh to keep you steady.

Through your pleasure, you tried to tell him to shut the door completely, as anyone walking by could've easily heard you both fooling around in the closet.

But you were already fucked out.

And even if he could understand you, you were sure he didn't care.

It wasn't long before that familiar coil in your stomach began to tighten, effortlessly reminding your body of what it had forgot to miss.

"M'cummin'!"

"Cum for me."

That husky tone was all it took for you to make a mess on his fingers.

But he knew he didn't have time to bask.

The Bride would be back any moment, and when she was, you both would have to join her on that damned plane back to prison.

Not wasting any time, he quickly sucked your juices off his fingers before sending his free hand to undo his belt, allowing him to tug his cock free from the confines of his pants.

As he began to shift you into position, you tightly gripped his shoulders, letting out a more quiet moan at his obvious display of strength.

'Jesus Christ, how much time does he spend in the yard?'

Phosphorus tugged your top down, freeing your breasts for his kissing and biting pleasure.

God, how he missed your tits.

"Alex... fuck," you whined as he felt his cock glide its way in, making you clench with anticipation.

He still held you by your ass, and you still wrapped your arms around his neck as he proceeded to drive into you at a manic pace.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." Phosphorus panted and cursed with each pump, only forcing you to moan louder.

Your nails dragged harshly against his back, your tail squirming with pleasure, the pads of your fingertips burning hotter and hotter with each passing second.

If he was in his right mind, he would've realized that you were actually hurting him quite a bit, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

All he needed was to be as close to and as deep inside of you as physically possible.

"Fuck, Alex!" you gasped when he hit a particular spongy spot in your core, your grip tightening around the nape of his neck. "Right there! God, right there!"

Anybody remotely nearby could hear you both by the bottles of cleaning supplies falling, the few books crashing down, and the exchange of heavy breathing and cursing.

Hell, it was miracle you two hadn't been caught.

Your eyes screwed shut once again, every cell in your body feeling as if it was going to burst at any moment.

"Cum with me, okay?" Phosphorus sounded as if he was pleading, possibly even begging. "Cum with me."

You neck was wet with his saliva and littered with hickeys, which would no doubt raise suspicion.

But—as is the common theme with the skeleton—he didn't care.

All he wanted to do... was feel you.

He needed to feel you.

"Cummin', Alex!"

"Good girl—ah—good... fucking girl!"

Phosphorus slammed his last thrust in you with a flourish, the two of you reaching your climax at the exact same time.

In a bout of ferality, you sank your teeth into his neck, the man letting out a hungered groan at the feeling of your fangs digging into his skin.

The two of you rode out your highs together smoothly, soft pants and curses echoing through the small space as Phosphorus lazily thrusted into you, before finally pulling out.

Carefully, he placed you back down on the ground, quickly tucking his dick back in his pants before meeting your gaze.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment.

A long, silent moment... before you were on each other once again.

Only this time, it was more intimate.

As you threw your arms around his neck, he pulled you in by your waist, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek as your lips met each other's once again in a breath-stealing kiss.

But, rather than filled with ferocity and need, it was surprisingly tender.

Within it, everything seemed to fade away.

The castle.

The commandos.

Your impending incarceration.

The whole world seemed to disappear, leaving you two alone with nothing but uncertainty and an indescribable feeling.

All in the middle of a broom closet.

When you two pulled apart, your eyes scanned over his face, a small smile cracking onto your lips as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"You sold me," you panted, convinced.

"Had no doubt I would," he grinned, cockily. "If I'm being honest, I think I have a magic dick."

"Of course you do."

With a roll of your eyes, you turned around, the two of you quickly dressing yourselves before exiting the disheveled closet and re-entering the foyer.

At the exact same time as the Bride.

"Let's go," she ordered, power-walking toward the exit. "Best make it fast."

The Weasel quickly shot up from his seat, joining the four of you on your way out.

Though... not without exchanging a few glares with Phosphorus.

"Take it easy, you two," you warned, shifting to walk in between them, as to prevent any further turmoil.

"I need to ask you some questions before you g—"

The Bride quickly grabbed the older man by his face, slamming him into the ground and out of the way before stepping over his body, the rest of you doing the same.

When you all reached the outside, and began walking toward the sunset, the Bride couldn't help but let a few tears slip at the lost of her close friend, Nina.

Moving closer, you rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she was quick to wipe the tears away.

"Y'know..." she started, cracking a halfhearted grin as her eyes flicked over your hair and neck. "You and Jack Skellington have really got to learn to keep it in your pants."

Your face burned with embarrassment, you hands quickly snapping up to fix your hair and cover your hickeys.

"Kinda hard with this piece of ass," Phosphorus chuckled, unabashedly, as he smacked your ass. "Right, babe?"

"Please... stop talking."

[ambrosiustheunknown]

Character Analysis - Severus Snape

No because I feel like people don't truly understand Severus Snape's character when they say that he's nothing but an asshole and Death Eater who bullies children and did horrible things.

Did he do horrible things? Yeah. And did he bully children? Yeah. Was he an asshole? Yeah. Did his death and guilt relieve him of blame and responsibility? No.

But he was more than just an asshole. He had his reasons, no matter how shitty they may be. And even though his reasons are shitty, I think he at least deserves some consideration. Why? He made most of his shitty decisions as a child. An abused, discriminated against child. Think of it like this:

Meets Lily after ten years of abuse at the hands of his muggle father

At 11, is separated from Lily and is put into a notoriously discriminated-against house

Is (unfairly) antagonized by James Potter and the Marauders (while I do admit that yes, he probably gave back as good as he got, he couldn't have done that until at least his 2nd year because he was raised without magic. he also did nothing to cause the bullying in the first place [as far as I know, correct me if wrong] )

Was bullied and abused up until 5th (?) year

Is humiliated and sexually harassed (because yes, threatening to take off a peer's pants is sexual harassment in my opinion) and lashes out at Lily during this time of intense humiliation and is promptly abandoned by her

Is almost murdered by Sirius Black who receives no consequences

Goes on to join the Death Eaters at after years of being an abused outcast and stereotyped as nothing but a slimy Death Eater

Is then forced to become the potions professor at Hogwarts

1-2 years later, he turns traitor against Voldemort (around 18-19)

The only person he's ever had care for him in his entire life dies

He's only 19-20 when Voldemort is vanquished. I'd say that it's safe to assume that he never got help/support/closure surrounding anything he went through. As far as I'm aware, there's not a single person within the entire series who is shown to support Snape, which leads me to believe that no one ever told him to get help after the first war, and considering his life up until then, he most likely didn't know to get help. He spent the rest of his life doing a job he hated and was forced into, was a spy, and was split between two powerful and dangerous masters.

With all this in mind, I'm unashamedly a Snape supporter (not an apologist, there's a difference). He was an ass who did horrible things but there's more to him then that. The students he taught didn't deserve his ire, and he did and watched horrible things be done, but he's so much more than a Death Eater, and his background and potential to be more than a spy is so interesting to look at and think about.

Edit: A reblogger has mentioned that in the books, James say's he'll remove Snape's pants. In England, 'pants' refers to underwear, and that we never actually find out if James did that. This definitely sexual harassment.

[hikidoll]

꒷‧₊˚ 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞 ! (fem reader implied, fluff!!!)

your typically cold friend surprises you with a last minute christmas present. turns out he pays attention to you more than you thought..

megumi fushiguro | katsuki bakugo | tobio kageyama, kei tsukishima | & any of your favs!

this was stupid. he shouldn’t be here. of course, you weren't expecting him. it wasn’t like you guys were close, not like that. what was he even doing here? he wasn’t good at this kind of thing... being thoughtful, doing sweet gestures. it felt foreign, uncomfortable. but when he thought about your face lighting up, that little laugh you always tried to hide behind your hand, his resolve hardened. he huffed, tugging his hood tighter against the wind as he approached your apartment door. "she better fuckin' be here.." he muttered to himself, fumbling with a gift wrapped box in his hands. he stared down at the box, a flurry of second thoughts rushing into his mind. "are we even close enough for gifts?" "what if" this and "what if" that. his mind always got the best of him in these kinds of moments. it was the same reason he hadn't mustered up the courage to ask you out yet. he’d spent more time than he’d like to admit hunting it down, scouring shops and questioning every choice. was this the right one? would she even care? was this… enough? he hated how much he cared about getting it right. it wasn’t like he was trying to make an impression or anything. at least, that’s what he told himself. the small box felt heavier in his hands than it should’ve. he turned it over idly, the edges of the neatly folded paper rough against his calloused fingers. it was stupid, really—how nervous he felt about something as simple as giving you a gift. just knock, he told himself. it’s not a big deal. you’re just giving her a gift.

but it was a big deal. at least, it felt that way. he’d spent far too long debating whether or not to even buy the damn thing. and then he’d spent even longer pacing the aisle of the store, trying to decide if the wrapping paper mattered. he hesitated in the doorway, unsure of how to even start. finally, he gathered the courage to knock on your apartment door, holding the gift box behind him.

the second you opened the door, he felt sick to his stomach. fuck. it was something only looking at you could do to him. it affected him more than he'd ever admit. "hey! what're you doin' here?" you said with a smile, leaning on the doorway. you had no clue how dangerous your smile was to him. immediately, he felt his cheeks heat up. he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "i was uh, just in the area, y'know? thought i'd drop something off." he muttered, his voice coming out rougher than he intended.

you blinked, glancing at the box in his hand, then back at him. “really?” your voice was soft, uncertain, and it hit him harder than he expected. why did you sound so.. surprised?

he nodded, his throat suddenly dry. “yeah.” he muttered, his usual sharpness barely masking the nerves buzzing under his skin. you nodded, stepping aside for him to come into your apartment. "well, come in! it's freezing out here.." you said, gesturing for him to follow you inside. he nodded casually, hesitantly stepping inside your warm, comfortable apartment. of course, the way you decorated your apartment was no surprise to him. it was so.. uniquely you. of course, you guys had been friends for years, but for some reason he'd never been to your apartment. he'd dropped you off a few times when you needed a ride, but truthfully, you guys hadn't spent much time alone together. this all felt so new.. but not unwelcome. you plopped down casually on your sofa, gesturing for him to sit beside you, and hesitantly, he did. "you know, you didn't have to get me anything-" you said, your voice littered with the faintest bit of nervousness, your gaze flickering between him and the neatly wrapped box. it was your favorite color, of course. he felt embarrassed that he remembered such small details. like the color of your eyes, or the way the freckles and moles were arranged on your face would make the prettiest constellation in the sky. “just open it,” he interrupted, his tone a bit harsher than he intended. he immediately winced, softening his voice. “i mean… it’s nothing big. just something you mentioned.” he shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "well, would you rather me go return it?" he teased. the way you giggled and shook your head in response made him feel off balance. "no, of course not! i love gifts." you responded with a giddy smile, hands fidgeting anxiously in your lap. he nodded, holding held the box out awkwardly, his palms suddenly feeling clammy. your fingers brushed his as you took the box, and he tried not to think too much about how warm your touch was. he shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. he watched you hesitate for a moment, like you weren't sure if you should open it right now or wait until later. he noted the way you handled it so delicately, carefully pulling away at the wrapping paper. your excited giggle cut through the tension in the apartment as you tore away the wrapping paper around the box. then, you gasped. "oh my gosh!" you exclaimed, revealing an adorable hello-kitty stuffie, a limited edition one as well. then, regardless of all his overthinking and anxiety, seeing your reaction was the best gift he had gotten. your eyes lifted to meet his, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. but he nodded, pretending like this wasn’t the best decision he’d made in a long time. "i'm guessing you like it?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest. "i love it!" you say, clutching the stuffie close to your heart. but the smile on your face faltered for a moment, "i feel really bad now.." you mutter, staring down at the plushie in your hands with a stomach full of guilt. "i wish i had gotten you something, but i-" quickly, he interrupted, "don't even start that shit. its fine." he reassured you with a small, rare smile. and even better, it was.. genuine. "just glad you liked it, i guess." he added with a nonchalant shrug. he could've sworn your eyes were glowing with pure happiness, and thought about how it would feel to get lost in them, before he mentally berated himself for being such a sappy idiot. he shrugged, trying to act indifferent even as heat crept up his neck. “it’s not a big deal.”

“it is to me,” you replied, your voice so full of sincerity that made him feel like the ground was shifting beneath him “i love it,” you said, your voice steady now, but warm in a way he wasn’t used to hearing. “thank you. really.” you clutched the stuffed animal in your arms with a small, satisfied smile. he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. you were too close, your gratitude too raw, and he wasn’t sure what to do with the way it made him feel. he expected you to tease him the way you usually did.

but what he didn’t expect was for you to set the plushie down on the small table beside you both and lean forward, and wrap your arms around him in a hug. your arms were warm, and your head rested lightly against his chest. he sat there, stiff as a board, his brain short-circuiting.

he could count the number of hugs he’d gotten in his life on one hand, and this was by far the most unexpected. slowly, awkwardly, he brought his arms up and rested them lightly around you, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. “y-yeah,” he muttered, his voice coming out way too soft. “it’s nothing.” he blinked, his mind racing. what was happening? why was he suddenly feeling like he’d been punched in the gut?

but it wasn’t nothing. not at all. as you pulled back, your smile brighter than he’d ever seen it, he felt something shift inside him. he’d thought the fluttering in his chest was just nerves or embarrassment. and as you held the plushie close, your fingers brushing over its beaded eyes, he realized something he hadn’t before.

this wasn’t just about the gift. it was about you. about the way you deserved things like this—things that made you smile, things that made you feel seen.

and then it finally hit him. god damn, he was helplessly in love with you.

and judging by the way you clutched the hello kitty plush like it was the most precious thing in the world, he was in deeper trouble than he’d ever imagined. for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like such an idiot for caring.

shit. how the hell did this happen?

just a silly little thang i procured when i was bored. haven't wrote anything in a while, so i hope its okay! did not proof read- too lazy i fear... enjoy :3 ©hikidoll inc. do not copy.

[utilitycaster]

I think a crucial element to understanding why Ashton is so receptive to Bells Hells is that they very clearly stayed with him. Fearne was furious, which is different than apathy, and left after being encouraged to cool down elsewhere, Laudna's reasons for leaving were far more tied to the risk of Delilah trying to absorb the shard, and Imogen and FCG stayed and talked to them. Anger is very different from abandonment, especially this anger, which was complicated and about many things, but in part about Ashton's own self-destructive tendencies.

I think there are three specific moments that make it particularly clear, although everyone (save Orym, who will presumably have his chance next episode) has their moment:

The first is Ashton admitting to Imogen "I'd have killed me" were the situation reversed, to which Imogen tells them the party spent too much effort keeping them alive to undo it. It's both true regarding their current feelings (ie, angry but still present) and true that Bells Hells could have bailed during that long minute and Ashton would have been left for dead permanently this time. It also is a call-back to how Ashton used to talk about the Nobodies leaving them: "I'd have done the same." Imogen rejects that; she is not doing what Ashton would.

The second is FCG and Ashton's conversation alone after Imogen leaves. FCG tells Ashton the party cares, but it seems that Ashton does not, leading Ashton to admit that he cares about the others, but not himself, and that his feelings about FCG's lack of self-regard in part came from the fact that he has the same problem.

The third is Chetney telling Ashton to leave. It's harsh. It also puts the burden of movement on Ashton. Chetney isn't telling the rest of Bells Hells to run and leave Ashton; he's telling Ashton that it's his choice, through word and action, to either be a part of the party or not. In the past, Ashton was never granted a choice. They were simply left behind. When Ashton chooses to stay and comes down to breakfast following morning, Chetney immediately validates this decision.

The theme is clear throughout: Ashton was the one who came closest to cutting and running this time, not the other way around, and they know it.

[koolades-world]

do you think we'd be together in every life?

volume one: everyday life; satan

in which you and your lover are brought together over and over again no matter the timeline, no matter the circumstances

"Satan, do you think we'd be together in every life?" You asked him.

"I know for certain the answer is yes. I'd find you no matter what." He responded.

...

You'd been enjoying your morning so far. You'd actually gotten up early, and decided to make the most of it. You didn't rush through your routine, and you even had time to complete all of the aesthetic things you normally didn't have time for. Somehow, you still had time leftover before your first class of the day even though it had felt like you'd spent forever awake already. Is that what early bird felt like on a daily basis?

You decided to spent your time at a cafe on campus that normally had a line out the door. Since you were awake early, you got there around the time they opened, and you had what was easily the best breakfast and coffee you'd had all semester. You never tell her, but it rivaled that of your mother's. Too bad it was way too expensive to justify buying on a daily basis. Since you had easily the best table in the entire establishment, you decided to savor it, and do some work there despite having a previous plan.

A sudden realization hit you like bricks as you caught sight of the time on your laptop. You'd lost track of time and at this rate, you were going to be late to Philosophy again. Being late once was bound to happen. While twice was a little questionable, the person in question deserved the benefit of the doubt. But thrice? You were sure this was going to count against you this time.

The reason you'd have to give would be even more embarrassing. Losing track of time in a cafe on campus while be 'aesthetic' is easily the worst excuse you felt you'd ever have to give. At least your alarm failing to go off, or getting a flat bike tire isn't your fault (or so, at least you tried to argue). But losing track of time? It was something you did more often than you'd like to admit, and wasn't going to get you out of a penalty.

While trying your best not to spill your coffee, you threw everything into your bag, and dashed out the door. Class started in ten minutes, but the walk usually took you fifteen. If you sped walked/ran the entire way, you should get there on time. You flew through campus, glancing at your watch, watching the seconds tick by. You let out a sigh of relief when you reached your destination two minutes before class was due to begin. You walked into the room, not really caring what you looked like. To your horror, half the class looked back at you to the sound of the door opening. Class had already begun.

According to the clock, you were on time, but for whatever reason, the professor that never started early, had today. At least she didn't single you out. With a mental sigh, you shuffled into the room, and took the only open seat. It was close to the end of the row, so thankfully you didn't have to scoot past so many people, but unfortunately it was in the front row. To your left sat a girl with her stationaries surrounding her like a cult leader might surrounded themselves with followers. She sent you a side glare when you accidently nudged one of them. To your right sat a boy with nothing on the table in front of him but a notebook and pen. He paid you no mind.

You broke out your own supplies and tuned into the lecture as best as you could. Philosophy had never been your strong suit, but you needed that credit. You took notes as best as you could, knowing later you'd be reviewing them in confusion. When it came time to do group work that you dreaded so much, you realized that somehow, in the time you weren't there, everyone else had already figured out their new groups.

In this class, the professor would assign group for the unit for you to discuss the various prompts she'd assign that not only functioned as a way to learn, but a way to count as attendance. It would be perfect if not for one thing: the groups were random. You'd been fortunate enough the first time to get an engaged group of people who'd taken their time to help you understand the material. You wouldn't be so lucky every time around, though.

After asking the professor, you discovered the boy to your right was the only present member of your group at the moment. "So, it's just you and me then?" You retook your seat.

"Seems like it." He took the prompt paper, and extended it to you to sign your name on.

"I'm Mc. I'm going to warn you now, I'm not the best in this class. I pay attention, and I do all the work. It just doesn't click up here." You tapped a finger to your forehead.

"That's alright. I don't mind helping you. I understand everything." While this felt like a subtle flex at first, you were just grateful he was nice, and was willing to help you out. "I'm Satan." He extended a hand out to you to shake. It caught you by surprise, but you did it anyways as to not seem rude. You took this chance to get a better look at him. His hair was blond, and seemed effortlessly styled. You'd already seen him card his hands through it a couple times, and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't ridiculously attractive. His eyes met your, and you were greeted with a vibrant green that perfectly matched the sweater vest he was wearing. His glasses perfectly suited his face, and the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards upon you taking his hand did something to you.

"I appreciate it." Not only was he beautiful, it seemed like he was nothing short of a genius the way he easily explained everything to you despite having so many interjections and questions. He was your angel.

By the time the professor came around to pick who'd be sharing their explanation for the prompt, you felt as if you wouldn't be floundering if you were picked. You weren't, but you could thank your group member for your new self confidence. When the explanation was given, he nudged you and smiled. It was something you hadn't been expecting, just like before, but you smiled back. Class was over shortly after that, and you packed up your things.

"How'd you feel about that?" Satan asked you.

"Pretty good! The best I've felt all semester easily. Thank you." You never looked forward to this class, but now, at least you had a reason to. Being able to understand the content was a game changer, and the fact that Satan was a model didn't hurt.

"It was no problem. I'm just glad to help." The two of you went silent for a moment, before he spoke up again. "Are you busy after this?" You blanked for a moment, struggling to process what he had asked.

"Uh, no. I have one more class today, but that's not until this afternoon." You didn't know what was more unbelievable: that you were struggling to remember something as basic as your schedule, or that Satan seemed to be asking you out. Normally, you'd be more apprehensive to advances that rapid, but something about him felt right. Something about him drew you in, and you could tell you were having the same effect on him.

"Great! Do you want to get something to eat, possibly?" He sounded a bit shy, which was a side of him you hadn't seen yet.

"That sounds perfect. Where did you have in mind?"

"I was hoping you'd have an idea." It seemed as if he hadn't planned on getting that far.

"Just follow me." You stood up. Before you could get going, you caught a glance at his lock screen. It was an adorable car perched onto of an open textbook. "Is that your cat?" You pointed.

"Yes! This is Belphie the Second, but I always call him Bel, because Belphie is my brother's name." He gushed about the gray kitty that was staring up into the camera.

With excitement, you turned on your phone towards him to show him a picture of your own cat in a costume. From the way he entire demeanor melted from having an air of seriousness to something much more mushy let you know you'd absolutely made the right choice.

The room was mostly empty at that point. You were the last to enter, and it seems like you'd be the last to leave as well. At least you wouldn't be leaving alone this time.

[jinxposting]

Jason Todd x Jinx! reader Chapter 3

Promise

You spent the next several weeks training with the Boy Wonder. You hate to admit it but your fighting skills have improved greatly, still scrappier than the boy training you, but improved none the less.

This change didn't go unrecognized. Joker had taken note of your new found skills, specifically their familiarity.

"Jinx!"

It wasn't often Joker sought you out. Either he was there or he wasn't. Did you do something wrong?

"That's me!"

"I need to talk to you."

"Ya already are!"

You tossed the device you'd been tinkering with aside and turned to face the man. His infamous grin was as present as ever.

"That I am. But I'd like to discuss something. It has to do with those fancy moves of your's." Uh oh. "Now, just where did you learn to do that?"

Busted.

You smiled nervously with a shrug. "Hah. About that. I may be working on a little side project."

"Oh?"

"It involves a little birdy."

"Ohhh!" Joker chuckled lowly. "And how is our little Boy Blunder these days?"

"Naive. He thinks teaching me to fight makes us friends or something. Think he's trying to convert me."

"Haha! The apple doesn't fall far it'd seem. I've seen that boy fight. Violent. Not like the first one at all. If anything you should convert him."

You cast him a knowing glance. "Pff. If only. But he has-" You rolled your eyes. "- morals."

"The Bat's doing no doubt." Joker paused. "It occurs to me, the man trained Robin but I never really did the same for you."

"That's not true. You gave me my name! And-" You opened your arms wide. "- all the machinery I could ask for!"

He stroked his chin. "That I did. But I think it's time I gave you a very special gift. Something me and your mother share."

You stared into the swirling green chemicals below. The fumes were giving you a headache already.

"This is where I became who I am. The Joker. Clown Prince of Crime!" The man gave a theatrical wave of his hand. "It's also where Harley pledged her loyalty to me. And now..." He turned to you, a hand offered. "It's where you will make me a promise."

"What?"

"You've been my protege for seven years now, give or take, and you've just officially started fighting Batsy." You took ahold of his hand. He pulled you to the edge of the catwalk. A vat of Ace Chemicals sat beneath you. "So I think it's time you were baptized the same as us. One big, happy family."

His smile was twisted. You could tell this was more for him than it was you. Despite that you couldn't help but feel a pang of something. Acceptance? Joker may not be a caring individual - if being with Harley taught you anything it was how to spot a sociopath - but he did take you in when no one else would. Saw your destructive tendencies and viewed them as potential. He gave you a home.

"This is a promise." He spoke in a serious tone. It was rare to see this side of him. "Your promise to me. That you will always be the Jinx you were born to be. That no goody two shoes Bat will ever change that."

You stared down at the bubbling chemicals. Then back at Joker. Wordlessly, he gestured you closer to the edge.

"Promise."

You jumped.

The short breeze was transformed to warm liquid as the acid engulfed you. It tingled against your skin with rapid carbonation, before transforming into a sharp sting. You refused to open your eyes, part of you scared you'd lose your vision. When you did finally surface the air was steamy. The smell reminded you of the chlorine in a swimming pool. Before your eyes could focus you felt the surface of the chemicals break once more. After a short moment you heard familiar laughter.

You opened your eyes to see Joker, dripping with thick, green liquid. You briefly wondered if this is where his hair color came from. Would you still have to dye your's?

"HAHAHA!" Joker turned to you, gleeful laughter bouncing off the walls. "Can you feel it? That stinging sensation? That's the feeling of change, Jinx, my dear!"

You couldn't help the breathless chuckle that escaped you. Before you knew it you were both laughing hysterically. Tears broke through the chemicals on your face. In that moment you were so unbelievably happy. You belonged. And Joker had acknowledged that. Acknowledged you.

You are Jinx.

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Chapter 5 - Plans Laid in Darkness

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Read on AO3

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader/OC, No Y/N, Politicking, Hail Kastovia!, We are learning to communicate, Soap is a good boy, canon typical violence, Konig (derogatory)

~5.2k words - MDNI

"Hello, princess," Kate says. She's using that dry, guarded tone that she used to use, before you got comfortable with each other. It's like you're strangers again, and not women that spent the past six years living under the same roof. It makes your heart ache— She's family. Really your only family, even if you have no shared blood.

She's wearing a dark cloak with embroidery of dark, nearly invisible ravens and bright stars around the hood and hem, a midwinter gift from you and her wife, that you spent weeks working on. You can see the top edge of the thick woolen socks that you knit her over the edge of her boots. You'd mended and reinforced the pockets on her trousers countless times. Kate was always hard on her clothes. You used to tease her about it when she'd come to you, sheepishly bearing a torn out pocket or a ripped seam. She always made up some silly story about how it had happened, just to make you laugh.

But she stands in front of you as the Watcher, the spymaster, and not as your Aunt Katie, and you don't care for it one bit.

She tenses when you stride across the room to her, but relaxes when you throw your arms around her tightly. "I missed you," you say softly. "I wish you'd told me what was going on."

"I know, honey. I thought I'd have more time. John promised not to interfere with you so long as you didn't interfere with him or his men. He's never broken his word before."

"He still hasn't," you admit. "It was my fault. A bird flew up and startled sir Garrick's horse, and I chased after. He was sleeping by the road, and…" you trail off, realizing what had really happened. It was too easy to forget that Kyle had a knack for illusion. He'd spooked the horse on purpose. "Well, he tricked me, and I fell for it."

Kate huffed out a laugh. "I should have been more careful with my phrasing. John is far too good at twisting things to his advantage."

You hum in agreement, turning towards the door when you hear a sharp knock. It opens before you can say anything, but it's just Farah, and not one of the men.

"Commander Karim," Kate says. "Good to see you again."

"Always a pleasure, Watcher," Farah responds, nodding politely. "I owe you a favour for the intel one of your ravens gave me a few weeks ago. Saved my men from walking into an ambush."

"No favour necessary. You actually helped me clean up a mess that same day." Kate smiles wolfishly. "My raven caught his mark when they turned tail to run."

Farah nods. “Then it seems we help each other.”

The two of them talk while you get ready, and flank you as you make your way down to the appropriate parlour, although Kate gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and heads off down the hall rather than follow you into the room like Farah does.

That’s always been her way. You’re sure you’ll see her later.

The Kastovian ambassador sits in a a chair by the window, dressed in a dark red suit. He smiles and stands whn you enter the room, Kate and Farah a step behind you. “Princess!” he says warmly, hands outstretched. “You are more radiant than I imagined you would be. It is not fair that John has been hiding you away all this time.” He pulls you close when he takes your hands, and kisses you on each cheek, closer to your mouth than is necessary.

“It was my choice to remain out of sight. I feared my presence would be a distraction from John’s work. I worried hat I would be as well loved as my father.” You smile, and sit next do John. “It seemed I did not need to fear so.”

“Of course not! Your father was a wicked man. You were not the one waging wars, your majesty. You were just a girl,” Nikolai continues. “And no you are a beautiful woman. Your kind heart is evident.”

“Beauty has little to do with kindness.”

Nikolai grins. “No. Or I would be a much better man than I am.” He settles back in his chair and picks up his wine glass. He raises it, looking at you over the rim, dark eyes glimmering. “To beauty and kindness.”

John hands you a wine glass, and you raise it in response. “To good sense and diplomacy.”

John hums next to you, pleased with how you’re handling the ambassador, by your guess. He levels an unimpressed look at Nikolai. “Are you satisfied?”

“No, it’s much too soon. I will let you know when I am satisfied, your lordship. It will not be until I speak to her majesty alone.” His mismatch of your titles is clearly intentional, meant to rile John up, make him commit a mistake. “But I do hope to be fed first, or I will try to eat you up, majesty. I’m afraid I have a weakness for beautiful women such as you.”

You steal a glance at Ghost, at the war mask, the visage of a skull glaring at the ambassador. You prefer the blank fencers mask, but you can see his eyes like this, deep brown, pale lashes catching the light. Farah stands next to him, almost comically small in comparison. By the forward tilt of the mask, Ghost isn’t pleased with the ambassadors tone, and Farah’s disdain is clear. Both of them have their hands braced on their belts. It was probably a good idea to have them remove their swords before entering the room, although you suspect that each of them is still armed to the teeth.

The man standing behnd Nikolai’s chair is similarly braced. He’s huge, taller even than Ghost, though not quite as broad, and masked as well, with something that looks like an executioner’s hood. The cold gleam of his eyes makes you shudder, until a wet nose pushes under your palm. You relax a bit, petting your hand over Soap’s fuzzy head, glad for the reassurance.

“I trust your journey was an easy on,” you say, changing the subject from how edible you look. “You arrived quite quickly.”

“Luckily, I was already on my way. Your cousin sends his regards, majesty. He is disappointed that he cannot be here himself.” Nikolai eyes Soap suspiciously, but says nothing.

“If he were so concerned, why did he never inquire after her?” John asks. “So many years with no mention.”

“Perhaps he was concerned that a mention of her would have you expanding your search,” Nikolai suggested. “He could not not be certain that she could be safe with you either.”

“As you can see, I’m quite safe, thank you,” you say pleasantly. “John allowed me time in the country to recover from the stress of the war. It was very kind of him.” You smile at John, warning him to behave himself. It would do no one any good for him to scrap with the ambassador. “It was good for me.”

“Clearly. You were too thin before. Listless. And now you’re vibrant and lovely. It is heartening to see.” Nikolai continued to smile, not once dropping his friendly mask. “Of course, you were little more than a child when last we met. Perhaps you do not remember me.”

Did you recall? Of course you remembered being trotted out during the many failed bids for peace between your homeland and Kastovia. Nikolai wasn’t just any ambassador, he was a prince, one of the younger ones. Not likely to ever take the Kastovian throne himself, unless his brother and grown-up nieces and nephews were all to perish. Not likely, unless foul play was involved. It was understandable, why he was so interested in securing an alliance through marriage to you, even though during those talks you had only been fifteen, and still too young to marry. It would have been a long engagement, but peace fell apart long before you turned eighteen, blessedly, or you would have been married to him, probably with a few children by now.

Nikolai seemed a pleasant enough sort of man, but there was something calculating in his eyes, like he was mentally tallying what everyone in the room was worth to him. You’re not sure you’d care for a husband who kept such a close eye on his ledgers.

“I remember.” You give Soap another scratch behind the ears, glad to have the comforting weight of his big head on your knee. “Strange to think of what could have been.”

“If I’d known you would grow into such a beauty, I would have worked harder to negotiate peace.” Nikolai looks at John as he says that, but his eyes flicker back to you quickly. “I suspect you will make a pretty bride.”

“I certainly hope so,” you say blithely. “Now, why don’t we move to the dining room? I’m sure you’re very hungry, after so much travel.”

“Starving,” he says.

Farah makes a scoffing noise behind you, but manages not to say whatever scalding thing comes to mind. You make a mental note to thank her for her restraint later. She told you already that she has no love for Kastovians, but she’s kept a cool head. Certainly a cooler head than John, who looks ruffled.

Both he and Nikolai offer you an arm to escort you to the dining room, but you tuck your hand into the crook of Nikolai’s arm, since he’s the guest. John’s frown deepens, but it’s not your job to manage a grown man’s emotional state. He’s a king, and it’s up to him to act like it.

There’s a certain tesnion in the air over dinner, summering under the light conversation. Nikolai takes a perverse sort of delight in saying things that are polite on the surface, and insulting if you think about them for more than a minute, although he directs all of these hidden barbs at John. To you he’s entirely charming, his dark eyes laughing whenever John leans in to speak to you quietly. It would be funny to watch the two of them have their polite little battle, if you were not the object that they both seemed to covet.

John’s possessive little displays are nothing if not an annoyance. You look forward to leaving again, and going home, back to your cozy room in Kate’s house, back to your chickens and your village and your routines. You’ll miss Kyle and Ghost and Johnny, but you’re sure they’ll visit if you ask. Ghost might even go back to his double life as a blacksmith, and you can pretend you never sussed him out, and actually talk to him, rather than just exchange the odd glance now and again. John will be much less free to make little visits to unimportant former princesses, and probably busy finding himself a suitable wife to mother his children and secure his bloodline.

Finally, dinner ends without anyone losing their temper, and the others retreat to the green parlour as you escort Nikolai to the next room. Farah and Soap stay by your side, although Nikolai’s own guard is dismissed.

“I had hoped to speak with you privately,” Nikolai says, raising his eyebrows at Farah pointedly.

“Commander Karim is my personal guard, as well as my friend. She would soon know anything you had to say to me regardless, so if you cannot say what you wish to in front of her, consider holding your tongue.” You sit, and Soap settles himself at your feet, the very picture of a loyal hound. “Now, what can I do for you, sir?”

“You should take me as your husband. Forget whatever deals you have made with John. Forget that idiot cousin of yours. I know wha it means to rule. You would not have to worry about any more wars with my people, or anything at all. I would gladly lift all burdens from your lovely shoulders.” He makes his bid standing before you, keeping a safe distance, wary of Soap’s sharp teeth. “I would treat you well, your majesty. Like you deserve.”

You sit back in the chair, eyes half lidded, giving no emotion away, although you almost wish to laugh at the audacity. “Is that all?” you ask mildly.

“Would you like more?” he asks. “Favourable trade agreements, perhaps, or land? My own lands lay just across the border, I could cede them to you. Name your desire, my lady, and you can have it.”

“I desire nothing that you could give me, except to deliver my sincere wishes that my dear cousin sets aside his ambition for the throne. John has made a fine king for these past few years, and I hope he continues to be for many more.” You smile, all polite restraint still. “Is there anything else that you wish to say?”

Nikolai looks at you, eyes narrowing slightly, his calculation of you changing somewhat. He’s not pleased by your refusal to even entertain his offer, but not surprised either. “Such loyalty, despite what he did to your father. How has he earned such devotion?”

“By being a good man, and improving the lot of my people. There is nothing else I need from him.”

Nikolai nods. “I see.”

“I hope you’ll excuse me, I’d like to speak with Commander Karim. I believe the others have returned to the green parlour, if you’d like to rejoin them.”

He doesn’t balk at the dismissal either, just gives a shallow bow and leaves.

“That was the right response,” Farah says approvingly. “If he though there was even a chance to gain your hand he would spend the rest of the evening behaving very badly. It would not look good if John or Ghost hits him.”

Soap gets up from his spot on the floor and trots behind a chair, the bone crunching sound of his transition filling the room for a moment. “Sweetpea,” he says, his fingers gripping the upholstery nervously. “I think there’s somethin’ you should know.”

“What it it?” you ask.

He swallows hard, blue eyes darting between you and the door. “John intends to marry ye tomorrow. He figured if he manuevered things just so hat you wouldn’t be able to refuse him, but I think you ought tae know.”

Farah goes extremely still, her eyebrows snapping together with an almost audible click. “He didn’t tell you?”

You drop your head into your hands, trying to control the spike of anger. “Oh, I’m going to kill him,” you say. “I am going to murder that man.”

“I will assist,” Farah promises.

“I am sorry I didnae say somethin’ earlier,” Johnny says, shoulders raised defensively, as though he still expects that you might shout at him. “I shoulda. S’just— It’s Price. He’s been good tae me. But yer so sweet, and you deserved tae know.” He looks a bit green from betraying his friend’s trust, but relieved too. It must have been weighing heavy on his mind.

You stand, and walk over to him, cupping his face gently between your palms. “Thank you for telling me.” Impulsively, you press a kiss to his mouth, not expecting the enthusiastic response. He pulls you closer, arms sliding around your back, his tongue lapping across your lips. He kisses messily, without much finesse, but it’ sweet, in it’s own way, how excited he is about it.

Your hands skirt down the tops of his arms, finding the raised edges of scarring you hadn’t noticed under all his freckles. Bumpy, textured skin, like there was sand trapped under the surface. In his wolf form he has bluish grey patches here, and running down his spine and legs. Did the pattern follow the scarring? Or was it just coincidence?

“No kiss for me?” Farah asks. You can hear the smirk in her voice even before you release Johnny and turn around.

“Would you like a kiss, Farah?” you ask.

“Maybe,” she says non-commitally. “Later, perhaps. Do you want to rejoin the others?”

You shake your head. “No, would you mind letting John know that I’m turning in early? Since tomorrow will be such a busy day.”

Farah levels another one of her impressive frowns at you. “I don’t want to leave you alone while those barbarians are here.”

“Johnny will come with me. And he’ll stat with me tonight?” You glance at him for confirmation. “So you can take some time for yourself, Farah. He’ll keep me safe.”

“He had better. I’ll see you in the morning, princess.” She gives Johnny a stern look before she nods to you and leaves the room.

It takes a moment for Johnny to shift back into a wolf, but you step out into the hallway as soon as he does, resting a hand on his head as he trots beside you, tail wagging. You’re quiet, not just because your companion can’t speak, but because you have a lot to mull over. The initial anger has subsided into resignation. You should have known that Price would hear only I’ll support you in any way you need and not your refusal to become his wife. He really is the most infuriating man you’ve ever met in your life.

You are disappointed in Kyle and Ghost as well, but you suspect that Kyle had been about to tell you when the ambassador arrived and John called you down.

The two of them are waiting outside your room, however, with sober, contrite expressions. Well, Kyle, anyway, but here’s an unease to Ghost’s posture that communicates that he feels much the same way, his shoulders tense and head hung low, like a dog waiting for a beating.

“Johnny told me,” you say, because there can be no other reason for their guilt.

The twin exhales of breath almost make you laugh. “We should’ve told you right off,” Ghost says. “Didn’t want to go against John, but—”

“It’s alright, I understand.” And you do, if you’re being honest. It would be foolish to expect them to take your side right away. That they are now still means something. “Do you think I should go through with it?”

Soap wuffs, and Kyle and Ghost look at each other.

“Yeah, we do,” Kyle says.

You regard them for a long moment, and then open your door. “Come in, please.” They follow, and you close the door behind them. The dress sits on a form by your closet, dark green and beautifl. The cream embroidery makes sense now, you can feel the prickle of magic lingering on the weave. You dispell it with a thought, and the illusion melts away, leaving a white gown behind.

“That’s that then.” You sit on th edge of the bed with a sigh. Soap hops up and curls around your back, and Kyle and Ghost settle on each side of you. “I’m going to be queen after all.”

“You’ll be good at it,” Ghost assures you. “You’re smart.”

“And kind. Well reasoned. You care about people, understand them better than John does,” Kyle continues, taking one of your hands, tracing a finger over your knuckles idly. “I think the people need you. Should’ve heard how excited Rosie was about you comin’ back.”

“I haven’t earned that,” you protest. “I haven’t done anything foranyone yet. I have no idea how—” You stop yourself short. Of course you have an idea of what to do. The entirety of your childhood was spent dedicated to learning everything there was to know about being queen. It’s been your destiny before you understood what fate meant.

Everything you learned has just been shoved aside, locked away. It’s time to remember, and accept your role. It’s all a part of you, the good and the bad.

Even the crown.

“Thank you for telling me, even if it does come a little late.” You squeeze Kyle’s hand and pat Ghost on the knee. “I do hope you’ll be more forthright in the future.”

“We’ll ‘ave t’be,” Ghost says. “Can’t be lyin’ to the queen now can we? Not even if John tells us to.”

“Certainly not,” Kyle agrees. “Now, do you want your hair braided for tomorrow? I’m sorry— About yesterday, I—”

“Consider it forgiven. Just don’t do it again!”

You do accept the help with your braids, focusing on sectioning and braiding thr front while Kyle works from the back, summoning a pair of hands that mirror his movements neatly. Ghost and Johnny sit close, watching with curious eyes.

It takes a while— You’re not sure how long— and you’re yawning by the time you’re through. Soap has his head leaned on Ghost’s thigh, half asleep. Ghost hasn’t moved since he settled there, still as a statue. You thank Kyle for his help. You’re not sure that your curls would be in good shape if you left them loose another night.

You stop Ghost when he says goodnight, tugging at his sleeve before he opens the door to leave. “I’ve kissed Kyle and Johnny,” you admit. “And John. Would you like a kiss too? It only seems fair, since I won’t be able to do it again when I’m married.”

“Close your eyes for me,” he says, and you do immediately, your face tipped upwards. You hear the shift of fabric, and then his fingers brush your jaw, so gently, holding you still as he leans in.

His kiss is almost unbearably sweet, soft and gentle, no push to deepen the kiss until you pitch up onto your toes to press closer, hands gripping his shirt. You can feel the scrape of stubble on your chin, smell smoke and cedar on his skin. There’s a slight dip on his upper lip, a scar that hadn’t been visible at dinner the first night, with you seated on his other side. You hum, touching the spot with your tongue. He growls in response, crushing you closer for just a moment before he lets you go.

You wait until he says you can open your eyes before you do. The skull mask lets you see his eyes properly, and there’s fondness shining out from them as he looks at you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he says softly.

You catch his arm again. “Will you walk me down the aisle?” you ask. “It’s fine if you’d rather not, but you’ve been my guardian for a long time. Kate’s the only other person who would do, and she hates being in the centre of things.”

His eyes crease with a smile. “I’d be honoured.”

Soap stays underfoot while you get ready for bed, until you shoo him out of the bathroom so you can change into your nightgown. He whines outside the door, which makes you laugh. “Just a moment, you silly boy,” you scold him. “I’m not letting you see me undressed again.”

He sighs audibly, and there’s a thump as he flops onto the floor.

The two of you settle into bed shortly after, and you fall asleep quickly, arms curled around his neck.

A few hours later, the door to the balcony opens, so quietly that you might not have fully noticed it if not for the way Soap tenses, silently wiggling free of your arms.You squint into the darkness, but there’s not enough light for you to see anything.

“I’m going to turn on the light,” you breathe, barely putting any power behind the words, trusting Soap’s canine ears to pick up what you say. “Close your eyes so it doesn’t blind you. In one, two three!” You reach over and tap the lamp, screwing your eyes shut against the sudden glare as you tip yourself off the bed and onto the floor.

You hear muffled swearing, and peek over the edge of the bed as Soap launches himself at Nikolai’s giant, masked bodyguard, teeth bared in a terrible snarl.

You scramble up and run for the door. “John!” you shout, and then turn to help Soap, although you’re no fighter. You couldn’t just leave him to deal with the man alone.

Soap is growling fiercely, his teeth sunk deep into the man’s arm, but the giant has a knife in his other hand, already slick with blood. Soap’s fur is matted down around his ribs, stained rusty red.

You grab the giant’s other arm and hold on tight, digging in your heels to keep him from stabbing Soap again. He shakes him loose instead, throwing him by the scruff into the bookcase, breaking shelves with a splintery crash. He jerks his arm to shake you loose as well, and backhands you, sending you stumbling backward.

You catch a glimpse of blood-shot, malicious blue eyes through the holes in the giant’s mask, and then a huge hand grips you by the throat, cutting off your air. He raises the knife.

A dark shape hurtles into the room, and the giant lets you go with a pained shout. You land hard, breathless, and John grabs you, hauling you up and putting his broad body between you and the grisly scene that is surely unfolding behind him. The sound of a knife cutting into flesh, over and over and over, the giant begging for mercy until he fell silent.

It’s awful. Your stomach churns, but you manage to not throw up.

“Sweetpea, are you alright?” John asks, pulling your attention back to him, gripping your shoulders just a little too hard when you try to look around him again.

“I’m fine— Soap’s hurt.” You look for him and find him right where he’d been thrown, although he’s staggering up onto his paws now, blue eyes unfocused, blood still oozing from the wounds on his side. Shaking loose from John, you rush to his side, throwing your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his fur. He leans into you, somehow managing to lick your ear.

John kneels down beside you and places a hand on Soap’s flank. Blue light flares between his palm and Soap’s injury. “There we go. Good boy,” he says softly, patting Soap on the head as he stood up again. “Kept our girl safe.”

There’s a commotion in the hallway now, guards and servants and Kyle pushing their way into the room. You sneak a glance at Ghost. There’s a slash through his shirt-sleeve, and a cut dripping blood onto the floor, but he seems unhurt otherwise. The giant however— You take one look at the spreading pool of blood and the mess of blood and bone and press your face back into Soap’s ruff, shaking.

John picks you up and carries you across the hall to his study so that the guards can get into your room to deal with the body. You look at Ghost over John’s shoulder. “You’re hurt. Let John heal you.”

He shakes his head. “Waste of magic. I’ll be fine.”

“Will you let me clean it up at least?” you ask. “I don’t want it to get infected.”

He huffs. “Fine.”

John sets you down, but your legs don’t feel steady yet. You lean into him for support, glad for the warm, solid bulk of him. He holds you until you stop shaking, barking orders over your head.

You press your face into John’s shirt when Soap shifts back into Johnny, the sound of bone crunching and tendons snapping a bit too similar to the sound of Ghost turning the giant into a bloody mess. There’s some kerfuffle as someone brings tea and supplies for you to clean Ghost’s wound, and John finally lets you go so you can get to work.

You focus on washing away the blood and dabbing stinging antiseptic onto the cut as Knight Captain Keller steps into the study to report. “We’ve had the ambassador confined to his quarters,” he says. “You may question him at your leisure. Gaz is laying wards on the room to keep him from working some nasty Kastovian magics. Should I arrange extra security for the ceremony tomorrow? Or do you think it best to postpone.”

“Extra security. Thank you, captain. Did the giant survive?”

Alex snorts, and then glances at you, his expression a hair guilty. “Um, no sir. I doubt his own mother would recognize him now.”

Ghost flexes his hands. His knuckles are bloody, so you clean up that blood too. Once the door shuts behind the knight captain, he takes his shirt off to make it easier for you to bandage his arm. You try to keep your eyes from wandering over all his pale, marred skin. There’s so many scars that you can hardly bear to think of how much violence he’s endured.

“I don’t think Nikolai was behind this,” you say, glancing at John as he sits heavily in his chair, running a hand over his beard tiredly. “He has nothing to gain by killing me. I don’t believe he’s any great champion of my cousin’s.”

“Why do you say that?” John asks.

“He proposed to me earlier, and called Phillip an idiot— And with lands along the border, he would put his own territory at risk if there is another war. It’s more likely that the assassin was paid directly by my dear cousin.” You wind a length of clean linen around Ghost’s bicep, tying it tight.

“He proposed?” John asked, focusing on the wrong part of your words.

“Yes, but—”

“What did you say?”

You consider telling him that you know what he plans, but there’s something satisfying about making him sweat a little bit. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”

“I beg to differ. I’d like to know all the same.”

You meet his eyes evenly. “I turned him down.”

John takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly, looking relieved. “Good.”

Johnny huffs, staying uncharacteristically quiet. He looks worn out, the toll of shifting back and forth and his injury leaving him exhausted. He’s eaten everything on the plate someone brought up, leaving only crumbs.

You’re tired too. The shakes have finally subsided, leaving you with nothing, a candle burnt down to sputtering wax. “I’d like to go back to bed. I don’t suppose I can go back to my own room yet?”

John shakes his head. “It’ll take a little while to clean up. You can sleep in my bed. I’ll be up a while yet, I’ll find somewhere else for the night.”

You nod, and glance at Johnny. “Will you come with me?”

He nods, gulping down the last of his cup of tea. “Aye. Keep ye safe if anyone else tries anythin’ foolish.” He folds himself back into wolf shape while you say goodnight to John and Ghost.

They bid you goodnight as well, although there is some envy in their eyes as they watch you slip through the door into John’s room, Soap by your side.

Soap sniffs around the new space suspiciously, and only settles into the bed beside you once he’s satisfied that there’s nothing amiss, laying his head across your stomach, ears perked up, flicking around at every little noise. You tap the lamp and close your eyes, comforted by his vigilance and warm weight and the pillow that smells like John, warm spice and tobacco smoke.

You try not to think about anything else.

I'm so sorry this took 9 million years to post, I wrote it by hand in July and just did not type it. But the good news is that Chapter 6 is also written and I am dedicated to getting it done so expect that before the end of the month. I love you all, thank you so much for your patience.

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics

[liveontelevision]

Who Wants Pancakes?

@alcoris-shiz requested some Radioapple stuff and i hope this is okay 😬 I haven't written for any ships yet, so this is my first shot at that 🎉

18+ Smut-ish, Mentions of Blood

♡♡♡

Lucifer didn't think the proximity would become a problem, I mean, he purposely made his office as far from that damned radio demon as possible and it still wasn't enough of a buffer to keep him off his ass. Still, other than having an occasional argument or just hearing some insulting mutters in passing, it wasn't all bad. The hotel was finally picking up and getting some residents, and he did make a promise to lend a hand where possible.

Something Charlie suggested early on was weekly hotel staff breakfasts. It was a fond memory, though a distant one, to have a hot plate of pancakes with her parents, so she was quick to suggest Lucifer start making them one day of the week for everyone to enjoy. Unfortunately, that does include Alastor. He agreed with delight, willing to do anything for his dearest daughter even with the slightest hesitance.

After a few weeks, it actually became something Lucifer looked forward to. Sure, he had to deal with the more extreme personalities of some of the staff, but it's been quite a while since he cooked and he was glad to get the chance to enjoy it with Charlie, again. Alastor had actually never joined this routine, which he had to admit, sent a stir of emotions to Lucifer's head.

Was he too pompous to even accept pancakes? What could that damned fool be doing that was so important, he couldn't sit down for a mere hour? Should he consider trying different recipes? He knows Alastor is a cannibal, but there had to be some exceptions.. But why should he care?

He often embarrassed himself by entertaining the idea of trying to satisfy him in any way.

"Who's ready for pancakes?" Lucifer pushes the kitchen door open with his back, his arms stacked with plates upon plates of freshly made pancakes as he sang out the phrase with a smile. An audible hum emerged from each of the staff members seated at the table, the scent filling the room. He skillfully slid the plates free of his arms and lined them up on the table before snapping his fingers and allowing each plate to portal in front of the hungry demons. He actually spent these past few weeks learning about who likes what; Angel loved having whipped cream decorating his plate, Husk was a fan of honey baked into his, and Niffty's always looked like an icecream sundae with the amount of toppings she'd want. A classic syrup drizzled plate appeared at the head of the table, a seat fit for a king. So, when Lucifer wiped his hands clean of any baking reminents that might have been stuck on, he was struck with disbelief to a devilish smile meeting him, seated at the head of the table. At his seat.

"Well! What a pleasant surprise! I'm so glad to see you could finally join us!" Lucifer's chipper demeanor wavered as he spoke through his clenched teeth. Alastor slowly slid Lucifer's plate across the table to be in front of the seat next to his, a chair that was always left open, in the hopes that a certain demon would join. Well, here he is.

"Good morning! I've found myself with a bit of free time this morning, so I thought i'd kindly grace you all with my presence. I'm sure you've all been missing me this past few weeks, I do apologize for any worry i may have caused." Alastor smiles brightly, completely ignoring the fuming angel who sat down hard in the only available chair. Charlie was quick to reassure Alastor, simply stating that she's glad to see him and how she's just happy to see him join breakfast. But Lucifer was clearly not entertained by that answer, since it's simply just not true. Lucifer let's out a crood fake laugh before picking up his knife with a white knuckled fist.

"What, am I to simply watch everyone enjoy their breakfast? Am I to pick through the trash for my food? How crude!" Alastor puts on a woe-is-me fit, raising his arm to fain over his head in a fainting motion. Charlie loudly cleared her throat to gain her father's attention, then nudged her eyes in Alastor's direction before holding her hands together in a pleading motion. How can he say no to those puppy dog eyes? He can't, unfortunately. With a dramatic dropping of his utensils, Lucifer huffed his way into the kitchen, tying his already dirtied apron back around his waist.

Mumbling some angry profanities about a certain deer demon, he listened to the muffled conversations and laughs that went on right beyond the door. As he began to mix the batter, he heard the door swing open.

"I appreciate your work, Your Highness, but I am especially particular about my food. I'm sure you wouldn't mind me watching your methods, hmm?" Without any answer, the radio demon took a seat at the island across the counter, crossing his slender legs and propping his head up with his hands. Lucifer let out a quiet, "Oh Brother -" before quickening his pace with the whisk. "Now now! Don't let that frightful scrowl ruin my pancakes. I keep hearing of their excellence and I expect just that." He tuned in, his smile only becoming increasingly petty.

This went on the entire time. Lucifer made his pancakes with a scowl, his eye twitching at every little note or critique that came out in Alastor's staticky tone. Afterward, he was finally able to join his daughter for breakfast. Even if his plate had gotten cold, and everyone was essentially done with their own food, he made it a point smile and acted as if he didn't waste his morning on this red-headed prick. Lucifer began to clean up the table, with some help, but he surely didn't mind when Charlie had to take everyone to the lobby for an exercise that was supposed to start sooner than earlier. The worst part? The plate made fresh for Alastor sat perfectly untouched.

"Oh, come on! That fucking piece of ... " Lucifer grumbled, essentially cleaning up everything but that plate, simply too angered to look at it. He brought the dishes to the kitchen, plopping them into the sink. He set his ring to the side as he washed the dishes, humming a tune to calm his previous rage. Menial tasks always did help with that. A static song overwhelmed Lucifer's humming, snapping him out of his little trance and making him whip his head around, to see an all too close radio demon, holding his untouched pancakes in front of him. Lucifer groaned and rolled his eyes before returning to the dishes.

"Oh wow. So! Are you here to help me clean or make fun of how I do the dishes? Either way, I don't need it. Do me a favor and fuck off." Losing his cool for a moment, his final statement come out as a gravelly growl. Alastor let out a despicable cackle, placing the plate down next to the sink, having to lean over Lucifer to do so. Lucifer scoffed when he felt his back lightly brush the other's Torso, attempting to keep a blush from running across his face.

"Why no, good sir! I don't intend to help one bit, not to worry. I simply enjoy seeing a powerful king, such as yourself, acting as a meeger housewife." His voice was far too close to Lucifer's ear, a chill running up his spine as he felt his hot breath against the side of his cheek. In his best attempts to keep his cool, he stood rigged for a moment before continuing to scrub a plate that was already spotless.

"Don't forget your place, good sir - " he spoke in a mocking tone," - I could kill you with a snap of my fingers." He spat out, his face still not visible to the demon towering over him.

"Oh, I don't doubt it! Well, I won't interrupt you again, I am here to simply enjoy the view, as I said before." As he stepped away to sit back into a bar stool, a hushed static ran over Lucifer's body. His eye twitched as he continued to clean his dishes, hoping that ignorance would make him lose interest and find something better to do. It didn't

Alastor's eyes boar into his back the entire time. After a hasty clean-up, Lucifer was quick to set aside his apron and dust off his vest and sleeves to get the hell out of the room. The white noise of static was becoming unbearable. After letting out a sigh of relief, Lucifer blindly went to pick up his wedding band, his hand reaching out and meeting nothing but empty counter space. He began to panic, looking around frantically, patting down his pockets, even reaching into the sink.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck - " In the nervous state, he took no time to look back to Alastor, if he did, he'd be greeted with his smile growing impossibly wider.

"Missing something, your highness?" Alastor said with an innocent tone, batting his eyelashes at the king. Lucifer whipped his head around and slammed his fists on the counter in front of him, cracking the marble.

"What the fuck did you do?" His devil features were quick to sprout, starting with his tail that stuck straight up like a cat in distress, the tip just barely flicking. Alastor could feel the heat of the small flame that sparked at Lucifer's crown, sitting right between his lengthy horns that tore through his flesh. His eyes squinted with a terrifying red glow, completely enraged at Alastor's unphased expression.

"Oh, dear! Could you possibly be looking for this?" Alastor wiggled his hand in front of Lucifer's face, flaunting his own wedding band sitting pretty on his red claws. Lucifer wasted no time to reach out and grab it, but of course, Alastor easily got away by standing from his seat.

They danced around the kitchen for a moment, Alastor cackling at every near miss, which only pissed the king off more. His power was used poorly, making him run out of stamina much quicker than he would prefer, but still long enough to tire out the radio demon just as much. They stood a few feet away from eachother, panting heavily. Letting out a final growl, Lucifer flooded the room with his large wings and lunged out in one final attempt. Alastor, not exactly planning out his next move, popped the ring into his mouth in one smooth motion. Lucifer stumbled and stopped mid lunge, the sheer confusion hitting him more than anything.

"What in the unholy hell - What did you do?! Why??" The situation became comical for a moment, his rage dying down as he tried to wrap his head around the bold move.

"You want your ring back, Sweatheart? Come and get it." He spoke awkwardly, attempting to get his words out before opening his mouth and showing off the wedding band that sat right on the center of his tongue.

Lucifer immediately flushed red, his wings curling around his body before tucking behind his back again. This wasn't what Alastor originally had in plan, but seeing his reaction was just as well. He placed his hands on his hips and bent forward to meet Lucifer's eyes and present him with a much better view of his opened mouth.

They stood there for a moment silently. Alastor shut his eyes and hummed for a moment, closing his mouth and slipping the ring on the tip of tongue before sticking it out to present to Lucifer. It took him far too long to make the decision, but Lucifer took a painful grip onto his shoulders and smashed his open mouth against Alastor's presented tongue. He was far too startled too grasp the situation in time, allowing Lucifer to skilfully wrap his forked tongue around Alastor's prying the ring off and into his own mouth. He pulled away, their tongues still connected with a line of saliva for a moment.

Lucifer placed his hand below his mouth and gently spat out his ring, sliding it carefully on his finger still covered in their mixed spit. He never broke eye contact with the dazed deer demon. Lucifer smirked, crossing his arms across his puffed out chest with pride, as if he won something. He let out a satisfied hum before his eyes followed Alastor's body moving towards him. Standing nearly toe to toe, Lucifer had to crain his neck to see Alastor's glowing eyes.

"Do it, again." His voice was low and gravely, a loud static screeching for a moment causing Lucifer to hiss and cover his ears. Taking the oppurtunity, Alastor took a strong hold onto Lucifer's jaw, pulling him upwards until he was struggling to keep his feet on the ground. He held onto his wrist, an angry glint in his eye, yet silent.

"Did you not hear me, Your Highness? Do. It. Again." He couldn't prevent his face from heating up at the demand, slightly gasping for breath. Mustering his strength, he rolled his eyes and sent a wicked grin to Alastor, his face still held in his hands.

"Sure~"

Lucifer took in a fistful of the demon's red hair and yanked it towards his face, making their lips crash together in a heated attempt to take control of the situation. Alastor lost his grip, allowing Lucifer to firmly plant his feet back on the ground. He kept a tight grip on his hair, keeping the towering demon at his level by bending him over uncomfortably at the hip. He continued to wrestle his forked tongue around Alastor's mouth, no matter how hard he tried to keep up with the king, he couldnt help but melt into the moment. And he feel absolute shame because of it.

After what seemed like meer seconds, Lucifer pulled his hair back, causing his neck to uncomfortably crane backwards. He fell to his knees, the only way to break the discomfort of his current stature. He panted heavily, his arms dropped to his side in a beautiful display of obedience. Lucifer's irises glew a shade of blood red at the sight in front of him. He leaned down just slightly to meet his eyes, finally having the upperhand, "I'll do it again, Sure. But - you have to admit that I won." He grinned almost innocently, making Alastor's limp expression immediately turn into a snarl.

"Go on, then. Admit defeat. You lost."

He'd never admit it, but Alastor found himself in an absolutely helpless situation. He was overpowered.

"Sire, you can't possibly be serious, I would hardly call this a game, don't -" before he could attempt to charm his way out of it, Lucifer readjusted the grasp on his hair to lift his head up by his ears. He yelped.

"Ahha! That's a fun noise! Go ahead and do it again, Darling. I'll give you what you want~" Lucifer kept a tight hold on the other demons ears, feeling them twitch in his fist. He leaned down slightly just hovering over his lips, before yanking his ears forward to connect them with his. The sudden motion made another quiet yelp come from Alastor's lips, but it was muffled between their heavy breaths combined.

He reached upwards, grabbing Lucifer's vest and pulling him down until his knees hit the floor painfully. The sudden jolt caused Lucifer's teeth to graze the inside of his cheek, a small amount of blood mixing in between their lips. Alastor tasted it almost immediately, grabbing Lucifer's sides and pulling him into his torso, sloppily trying to lap up any of the angelic blood that spilled from his mouth.

Lucifer pulled away, pushing on Alastor's chest to keep a distance. As they caught their breath, Alastor licked his lips clean of the golden blood that he managed to obtain. He let out a low growl, before picking up Lucifer by his waist and tossing him hastily onto the counter. Pulling him right to the edge, their bodies completely pressed together, he locked their lips again. Lucifer lost his powerful composure for a moment, gripping Alastor's back and letting out a pathetic whimper into the kiss.

Alastor responded by biting Lucifer's lip, allowing more of his sweet blood to spill into his mouth. He slipped his hands between the two of them, slicing the threads of each button that held his vest and shirt together with ease. Pulling his shirt to the side before he could even realize his top was undone, Alastor pulled away from his lips and let out a heavy breath at the nape of his neck before anchoring his pointed teeth at the softest part of his skin.

Lucifer let out a careful moan, quick to cover his mouth lazily to hold back any other noises. His hand was quickly ripped away from his lips, Alastor guiding it back to the top of his head. He quickly took a grasp of his hair again, desperate for anything to anchor himself to reality.

After leaving a lovely trail of bloody bruises and bites across his entire chest, tainting the procelain white skin, he stepped back to look at his work. Lucifer was a panting mess, hair stuck to his forehead and eyes dazed. His shirts had fallen off his shoulders and he was still attempting to catch his breath. Alastor recovered much quicker, wiping the trail of glowing blood that flowed down Lucifer's chin with his thumb and licking it clean himself.

"Well, I suppose I'll admit to defeat and leave you to your duties, your highness." He swipes some invisible dust from his coat before holding his hands behind his back and heading towards the door.

"Ah, and might I say, you make quite the meal!" He said chipperly, leaving a stunned Lucifer still seated on the countertop as the radio static that once flooded his senses slowly ceased.

♡♡♡

Also just saying, I took some inspo from a radioapple drawing I saw on IG and i cannot for the life of me find it again so I'll include it if anyone finds it :,)

[ifortom]

Bad Decisions - T. H. (3)

frat!Tom x Reader - Fake dating AU

Chapter Summary: Friendships are made, questions are answered, and hearts race.

MASTERLIST

W/C: +5K

• DAY 3

"Hey, newest hot topic on campus." You heard it as soon as you left the classroom.

Amber positioned herself by your side as you walked down the university hallway.

"Hey! Is that what people are calling me now?" Amber laughed lightly.

"Well, being seen swapping spit with one of the star players comes with certain consequences." She said, slipping her arm through yours. "Where are you headed now?"

"Uh, I thought I'd grab lunch and then probably head home. I need to catch up on some things I let slide over the weekend." Amber smirked.

"I bet you made good use of that time." You looked at her, wide-eyed. "Oh, stop it! I bet you and Tom spent the whole Sunday snuggled up together."

"Actually, I was nursing a hangover. He suffered having to listen to me complain and swear I'd never drink again."

"That won’t be the last time you’ll have to deal with a hangover if you keep going out with us." She smiled. "Can I join you? I’m starving, and I’ve got some assignments to do too. I’d love the company. Plus, your genius brain could help me out, if you’re up for it, of course!"

You pretend to think for a moment, pouting as if you're contemplating her idea, even though you already know the answer.

"Hmm, I don’t know..." She stops abruptly and stares at you, her caramel eyes pleading. "Alright! No need to look at me like a lost puppy," you say, laughing.

"My lost puppy eyes have gotten me far in life. Where are we going?"

"I was thinking of going to Joe's, do you know it?" She shakes her head. "No way! You're about to try the best carbonara in the world. Let’s go!"

"I have to admit, I haven't eaten this well in a while." Amber said while rubbing her belly.

"I told you."

Despite what people say around campus, Amber is one of the easiest people to talk to that you've ever met. Maybe it helps that you share a lot of mutual interests, but the way she keeps the conversation flowing, never letting an awkward silence settle between topics, proves once again that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

The girl with long red hair has a strong personality and big dreams. College wasn’t one of them, but for her parents, she pushes herself harder each day to keep going. She told you that ever since high school, she's had a passion for music and even joined the choir, but she always heard she had no future in it. Harsh words from people who should have been supporting her.

To her parents, a degree has always mattered more than genuine happiness.

She didn’t go into much detail, but she said she joined the cheerleading team to stay at least a little closer to what she enjoys. She knows the girls she hangs out with don’t have the best reputation, and as a result, she carries that same label. But she says she doesn’t care, that she’s happy with what she does, has fun, and has met some lovely people.

You don’t completely agree with the last part, since several people she hangs out with have proven not to be so great after all. But Amber has more contact with them than you do, so there’s not much to discuss.

During lunch, you gave her your full attention, but at the same time, you wondered why she wanted to spend this time with you. It wasn’t something you had imagined would happen. To you, she was just another girl you made friends with at a party, someone with whom you’d never exchange words again, like so many times before.

But Amber also seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, asking about your major, what motivates you, and your interests.

She walked you back to your apartment and sat down on the floor near the coffee table, with a book and notebook open as she worked on an assignment. You sat down next to her, focusing on the page in front of you.

An hour later, Amber slammed the book shut and poked you with the tip of a pencil.

“I’m bored.”

"You know that phrase is something I hear regularly? In this same position."

"Do you have a lot of study dates?" She says, raising an eyebrow.

"It’s Tom, actually. We spend a lot of time studying together, and after a few minutes, he gets tired and says he’s bored."

"You two spend quite a bit of time together, don’t you? That’s how you got close."

"Yeah, you could say that. We worked on a project together and became friends. It ended up being a routine for him to be here."

"And now you’re dating."

"Oh, we don’t have a label yet. We’re... testing things out."

Amber watched you for a moment before speaking.

"Can I be honest?" You nodded. "It isn't strange to see Tom bringing a girl to one of those events and joining our group for the night. But most of the time, it doesn’t go beyond that. One night. You're his friend first and foremost, and you know how he behaves."

Amber sighed and looked at the table in front of her, her gaze unfocused.

"I don’t want you to end up like one of those girls. I know we barely know each other, but I like you, and I pushed aside my ego to get closer to you because... you seem real. It’s ridiculous, but I don’t know what I’m saying anymore."

"Amber, it’s okay." Your hand found hers and held it. "Take your time."

"I and Tom are friends. He’s one of the few people I can really talk to, you know? Like I said, the people I hang out with aren’t bad, but Tom is genuine. He doesn’t hide, and he is who he is, even if people talk about him." Her eyes returned to your face, and you finally noticed the tears forming. "And he talked about you. He told me how much you support him and what you do together, how you talk about everything and really listen to each other."

"I never had the chance to get to know you before, and my fear was that you would treat me poorly because of who I am, even knowing you wouldn't do that." She took a deep breath to regain her composure. "And when you showed up at the party and I got to talk to you, I understood Tom. I understood why he keeps you around. And today you took me to lunch at a new place, brought me to your home, and helped me with an assignment that isn't even part of your course. And we barely know each other."

"Amber, I did that because I like you too. It’s all good!"

She sniffled and released your hand, bringing them to her face to dry her tears.

"That was intense, and now I’m embarrassed." She started to get up, and you followed her. "I need to go."

"Amber, wait. You don’t have to leave."

"Y/N, I need to." She quickly packed up all the materials she used back into the bag she was carrying. "That was more than I expected."

Knowing you wouldn't be able to change her mind, you just watched as she gathered her things.

"Amber, wait." You tried one last time as she approached the door to leave. She paused but didn’t look back. "Do you want to go shopping on Friday?"

Her shoulders trembled slightly, and she turned to you with a shy smile on her face.

"I would love to."

Tom was sitting at his desk in his room while you were lying on his soft comforter on the bed.

"Were you two out to lunch together?" he asked.

"Yeah, she asked if she could join me, and I didn’t say no. It was actually pretty nice."

"Until she freaked out in the middle of your living room."

"It wasn’t a freak-out." You sat up on the bed defensively, staring at him. "She vented. I didn’t understand much, but the emotional weight of her words… it was a lot."

"Amber is pretty straightforward."

"I don’t think so. She still has a lot bottled up inside her, and I don’t think she’s going to share it anytime soon."

"Y/N, she’s not a patient. Don’t overanalyze."

"I know that," you replied. "She said you two are friends. Has she talked to you about her parents?"

He raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Let’s stop right there. That’s not our business."

"Ah, okay, sorry." You flopped back onto the bed, arms spread wide. "But did you know she said you talk a lot about me?"

"Did she?" He stood up from his chair. "What did she say?"

"Nothing too specific. But I think it’s problematic because you’ve created a fantasy of me for her."

"Me?"

"Yes! I’m not that special, and the way she talked… you really need to watch your words or it’s going to seem like I’m the center of your universe."

"Ha! You would like that, wouldn't you?" He gets up from the chair and sits on the edge of the bed.

"That's your life wish, Holland. Not mine," you joked back.

"So you think you’re that special, huh?" he says.

"I know I am. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be right here now, and you wouldn’t be talking about me to other friends."

"You hurt my feelings talking like that. I don't have such a cold heart." he says, placing his hands over his chest.

"Aww, poor thing. Tommy gets his feelings hurt when he hears the truth." You reply, pouting and sitting again to face him properly.

"Why are you so sassy, huh?" He says, laughing and leaning closer.

"Life taught me to be this way."

"Stop that," he says, chuckling. "A few hours with Amber and you’re already just like her."

"We're friends. We have a date together on Friday!"

"I don’t know what to think, but I’m glad."

"Yeah, it's going to be fun," you smile.

"So, I've been thinking… actually, I heard some comments today about last Saturday."

"Yeah, I heard about it too. Apparently, you can still be the talk of the campus at any occasion."

"Oh, Y/N, you know not everyone cares about that. The ones who talk the most are the ones close to you or who want to be."

"I know, I was one of those people, remember? You can be sure I didn’t care at all about what you did or didn’t do until we had to work together."

"Yeah, if it weren't for social psychology, we might never have even exchanged a hello." That wasn’t exactly true. "Anyway, it turns out everyone thinks it was just that. Just a fling."

"Hm, what do you suggest?"

Tom smirked and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Time to make it Instagram official."

"How do you want me?" you asked, and he stared at you, a new smirk appearing. "Not like that, you perv! You know what I meant."

He laughed and got up, offering his hand to help you up from the bed.

"I'll lead you," he says.

You both walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window in his room, the sunset bathing the space in natural light. Tom positioned you in front of him and wrapped one arm around your shoulders.

"Okay, now turn your face to the left. Pretend you’re distracted." You did as he asked.

Tom's free hand held the phone in front of both of you.

"Got it. I think we have the picture for the official announcement," he said a moment later, pointing the phone to catch your attention.

In the photo, Tom's face was resting on your head, his arm wrapped around you while you pretended to look at something in the distance.

"Tom, do you think this is good?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"This looks so forced."

"What a lie. I've never taken a more perfect couple photo." You put your hands on your head when you heard him say that.

"Thomas… you've never taken a couple's photo in your life!"

Tom might have posed with countless girls at parties and other events, but none of them carried any deeper feeling.

"Well, it's what we have." He clicked a bit more on the phone screen. "Done, I even tagged you. Are you going to repost?" He said just as you heard the sound of a notification coming from your phone on his bed.

"We should have taken another one."

"Y/N, then it will look forced. It needs to be natural."

"Ha, and you think this is natural?"

"Stop complaining."

You huffed and returned to his bed, grabbing your phone and opening the app.

"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to repost it because you didn't like it…" he says lightly.

"That's not it, Tommy." You meet his gaze, lowering your phone. "It's just that all my acquaintances are going to see it. And it will be real. My family, friends from home. I know that was the plan and what we agreed on, but I just don’t know…"

Tom moved closer to you and cupped your face in his hands.

"Hey, any time you want to stop, that's fine! I’ve already told you I’m not going to force you into anything. Just say the word, and it's over."

You let out a breath and rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you in a comforting embrace.

"You too, Tommy. At any moment." You said, your voice muffled by his shirt pressing against your face.

A few seconds later, you slipped out of his arms and reposted the photo, blocking and silencing your phone immediately afterward.

"See? That wasn’t so hard. We’ll deal with the consequences later." He laughed softly. "Now let’s go, we need to get there early if we want to leave early."

Even though it was a Monday, Tom had managed to convince you to go out with some of his friends to celebrate the start of the new game season. The only condition you had set was not staying out too late. They had decided to meet up at a bowling alley for the night.

When you both arrived, Harrison and his date for the night Jessie along with Tyler, and his girlfriend Mabel were already there, having reserved a lane for the game.

Harrison started the game, followed by Tyler and Mabel, who asked her boyfriend for help with the only move needed in bowling. Next up was Jessie, who made the same request to Harrison—good first-date strategy.

"Ok, smartiepants, your turn," Tom said turning to you, pointing to the lane.

You got up from the couch in your section and walked over to the platform to choose the ball you'd use.

"Tommy, you're not being very smart right now," Tyler said, pointing in your direction.

"What do you mean?"

"Be a gentleman; your girlfriend is about to bowl. Don't you think you should help her?"

Tom laughed loudly. "My girl? Oh, she doesn't need help. She knows what to do."

And as if you sensed his words even without hearing them, you knocked down all 10 pins in one go, making him shout in celebration.

"That's what I'm talking about!"

The night continued, and Harrison emerged as the winner of the game, receiving victory kisses from Jessie. Before heading out, everyone decided to grab a quick snack at the same bowling alley.

After a while of laughter, you said goodbye to the group and everyone went their separate ways.

"I have to admit, these people aren't so bad." You say as you buckle your seatbelt and Tom starts the car.

"Yeah, Tyler and Harrison are my closest friends, which is why I wanted you to come tonight. I know some of the guys on the team can be jerks, but a few of them are worth it."

"The girls were really nice too, even with their performance of not knowing how to play and getting all cozy with the guys," you say, laughing.

"I don't know about Jessie, but Mabel has been with Tyler for a while, so it's likely you'll see her again," he replied.

"Hm, I wish Amber had come," you said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

"Haz said she was busy, that's why she couldn't make it."

"I see…"

"Hey." Tom called your attention, placing his hand over yours. "Don't think too much about it; that's Amber for you. She has a strong personality and is very intense. And she gets scared by things she can't control."

A few minutes later, Tom parked in front of your apartment.

"Have you checked your phone?" he asked, and you shook your head in response.

"It's been on silent since we left your place."

"Y/N, I'm here for you. You know that."

"I really appreciate you, Tom. I know you have your reasons for being part of this craziness we've gotten into, but seriously, thank you."

"Anytime, smartiepants." You smiled at him.

"I'm going now."

Before you could open the car door, Tom held your hand. "Wait, Y/N."

"What?" You looked at him.

"I need to ask you… about the party, what happened at the party." he said. "I don't… what was that?"

"Tom, I'm not understanding."

"We… we kissed."

"Oh, about that." You looked away. "I know you didn't expect it, but… when I came back from the bathroom with Amber, everyone was saying you had gone somewhere with Taylor, and when I went to look for you, I bumped into her, and she started saying all sorts of things, and I wasn't exactly in my most sober state either."

He didn’t respond and let go of your hand.

"I know we hadn’t agreed on anything, but it felt like the right thing to do at the moment. I needed to prove that we were together there."

Tom continued in silence, staring at the road ahead.

"I'm sorry. We talked briefly about this, and I thought…"

"So it was an act?" he asked. "Just to prove we were together?"

"Well, yes. It’s not what we usually do when we’re together," you replied uncertainly. "But Tom, if that bothered you, let’s set some boundaries. It's funny because you joked about it yourself and…"

"No, it's fine. You don’t need to. Just… I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" he said.

"Alright, drive safe," you said before getting out of the car and watching him drive away.

As you lay down and finally allowed yourself to check your phone, you felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Notifications began to pop up on your phone, and you quickly realized that the repost of the photo with Tom had generated a lot of attention. Messages from friends and acquaintances started flooding your feed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the positive reactions.

Your sister replied with a simple "WTF?"

You couldn’t avoid feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Your relationship with Tom was becoming more real every day, and it brought a whirlwind of emotions.

Among the messages, one notification caught your attention: a direct message from Amber. “I saw the photo! I’m so happy for you. Let’s talk soon?”

You smiled as you read the message and felt relieved. But one notification, in particular, caught your attention even more.

Sean: Seems like I wasn’t wrong after all.

Seeing that message from Sean made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t expected him to reach out, especially not like this.

TAGLIST: @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @un06 @lnmp89 @hoodharlow @let-me-luve-you @erule @smoofine @smile2345 @itsdoni @helen-on-earth @kagtobis @appleypi @jennifersworldsblog @marajillana @hufflepuff-n-fluff @aol19 @milasexutoire @watarmelon212 @miniaturetreecollectorfan-blog @twsssmlmaa @drquinnzel0217qqqqqqqqqqq @purplerose291 @princessria127 @jackiehollanderr

[lionhanie]

the first snow (lee riwoo)

working during the holidays isn’t too bad with sanghyeok by your side 

co-worker!riwoo x gn!reader (non-idol au) 

this work is my contribution to @onedoornet’s christmas event, a very onedoor christmas! check it out here!

word count: 4.1k ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ genre: fluff

warnings: a pinch of angst i'd say (alluding to burnout/seasonal depression), reader is a people pleaser, i curse maybe twice lol, riwoo is referred to as sanghyeok! 

a/n: SORRY I KNOW CHRISTMAS IS OVER…. had fun writing it regardless :,) hope u enjoy ^^

reblogs ↺  + feedback always appreciated!

Being one of the younger workers in the office was frustrating to say the least. Pausing your work to complete trivial tasks in the middle of the workday – making copies of a meeting agenda, fetching your seniors’ morning coffees, reorganizing the ridiculously large stack of your current client’s files – the list seemed to never end. For some reason, everyone around you was conveniently occupied with something so urgent that they couldn’t attend to the matters themselves, leaving the responsibility up to you. Sometimes you felt like you spent more time faced with useless errands than doing the work you were hired to do in the first place.

You were expecting a bit more respect from your peers when you were appointed as the team leader for your company’s newest project, but you were quick to realize your naivety in the earlier group meetings, finding that no one seemed to take you seriously. You would’ve thought that because the other members on the project had years of experience on their side, surely they’d be able to hold their weight to a certain extent... Right?

Painfully enough, it was the complete opposite. You can’t count the number of times one of the more “experienced” workers asked you to repeat a detail you’d discussed just minutes prior, or proposed a suggestion that completely contradicted the end goal of your client– it was clear to you that no one saw your leadership as more than a joke, no matter how hard you tried. 

And to top it all off, your company was structured in such a way that made it nearly impossible for you to speak up against your elders. Your word as a senior associate meant close to nothing if you were going against one of the partners of the firm. It didn’t matter that you put in ten times more effort than your team members, it was almost as if they were praised according to how long they’ve been in the office.

Safe to say you were relieved when Sanghyeok was added as a member of the team you were leading on a random Tuesday afternoon. Not that you two were close by any means – the extent of your interactions consisted of small smiles exchanged in passing in the printer room or short discussions of weekend plans over coffee in the break room. Rather, you were hopeful that his addition to the project would mean someone would finally start contributing even a fraction of the work you were putting in.

Even though you dread your bi-weekly team meetings, it was so much more rewarding to at least one other person cared about the success of the project. Sanghyeok was always in his unassigned-assigned seat right by the projector, intently nodding along to your agenda and taking notes when he deemed necessary. Hell, he’d even chime in whenever someone would ask a question that was obviously answered earlier in the presentation, giving you the chance to save your breath for something that actually mattered, and shooting you a cheeky grin afterwards, clearly satisfied helping you whenever he could. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Four days before the deadline. . .

Everyone begins to pack up their belongings the second it hits 5:00PM, slowly but surely filing out of the office before it gets too dark. It was no surprise to see your colleagues zipping up their briefcases far earlier than you planned on clocking out; the project deadline crept up on you faster than you’d like to admit, and your mostly incompetent team forced you to work overtime a majority of the recent weeks. In any other case, you probably wouldn’t be breaking your back hunched over your keyboard hours after the sun had set, but because the project was in your name, it pained you to present a finished product you weren’t proud of. 

“You aren’t leaving yet, Y/N?” You look up from your monitor, finding Sanghyeok looking at you from across your cubicle, wrapping a plush scarf around his neck. His eyes are full of concern– he’s noticed the way you never seem to budge once your peers start going home for the night. Even on days when he logs off later than he’d initially planned to, you’re still there, typing away at your desk.

“Agh, our Y/N is always so hardworking! They never seem to leave with the rest of us,” Alvin, a senior on your project notorious for sending in half-assed work far past the deadline you set for him, comments from his seat beside you. “I could never put in as much work as you do, not when I’ve got a family waiting for me at home!” Yeah, no shit. It’s hard to believe he’s stayed at the company so long performing the same quality of work you were doing in your first year in the office.

His words stung a bit, feeling oddly bitter at the idea of someone like him having people who loved him waiting for him to return from work– Coming back home to an empty apartment late at night never used to bother you, but something about the long winter nights and freezing temperatures made it undoubtedly sad in nature. It wasn’t just the weather making your loneliness feel colder than usual. 

The smile you return is painfully fake, something Sanghyeok clocks almost immediately. He gnaws on his lip, wanting to say something to the senior, ultimately deciding to hold back on it given how new he was to the project. Maybe it wasn’t his place. He didn’t want to make things worse for you by saying something out of line. Alvin shrugs his coat onto his back, quickly leaving the premises without another word. 

“If I didn’t see you in a new outfit everyday, I’d think you slept at your desk,” Sanghyeok jokes, trying to lighten the mood. From his first meeting with the new team, he quickly learned to admire the way you seemed to take charge when you needed to. It was impressive the way you’d joined the company later than he had, and were already put in charge of such a big task. He knew exactly how it felt to deal with all the stupid tasks from the other seniors in the office, finding himself doing the same thing for weeks before you came in. 

You chuckle pitifully, mainly towards yourself. “At this point, I should stop paying rent and start living at my desk.” You groan as you take a break for a well-needed stretch, your back cracking from your poor posture. “Some days I feel like I’m in the office more than my apartment.” Your words are lighthearted, but Sanghyeok notices the underlying melancholy in your statement. 

And Sanghyeok takes his leave, only after wishing you good luck and a “get home safe” as he always does, but he can’t stop thinking about how much time you’ve been putting into your work. He’s constantly shut down whenever he asks you if there’s anything else he can help with, just wanting to take a fraction of the load off your plate.

He knows you’re doing it just to be nice. You’re the type of person to take on a burden all on your own, even if it means committing to the ungodly hours you’ve become so used to. Even on the bus ride home, Sanghyeok can’t shake your tired eyes out of his mind. For some reason, it hurts to imagine you slowly killing yourself over a silly project all because no one had the decency to bother trying when they knew you’d fix it for them anyways. He wanted to do more… No, he needed to do more. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Three days before the deadline. . .

Sanghyeok wonders how you’re always earlier than him when he walks into the office, finding you so put-together and diligently editing the project presentation when he’s still groggy after his commute to work. 

The workload around the holidays is never too demanding, thankfully the company’s clients normally don’t ask for much as the year comes to an end. In your case, however, all your time is spent on trying to perfect the project proposal for your overwhelmingly-nitpicky boss. You’re convinced it’s some sort of test to see how good you’d be leading a team before you get the promotion you’ve been waiting on for the past couple months. Even if you make it out of your boss’ critiques alive, you’re certain you’ve lost countless years off your life with all the stress weighing down on you. 

You lock eyes with Sanghyeok every once in a while, finding him peeking over the divider separating your desks more than normal. That’s odd. You figure it’s probably because he has a question about the numerous items that still need fixing on the project. It doesn’t occur to you that he wants to talk to you until he rises from his chair, tapping his pen on the top of your monitor to catch your attention.

“I don’t know if you saw, but I just fixed a lot of the trouble areas you mentioned in the meeting the other day,” He’s excessively clicking the pen in his free hand, feeling oddly nervous to show you his work even when he knows he did everything properly– He knows how high your expectations are when it comes to your job. “I’m pretty sure I made sure to do everything you asked for, but you might want to double-check if I missed anything.”

The gasp of relief you let out is uncharacteristically loud, so much so that it earns you a side-eye from Alvin, who was currently playing solitaire at his desk next to you. He’d just saved you hours of overtime with his work, finding everything done to a tee. “No, no, this is perfect. I was dying to fix those until I realized I forgot Christian told me to come with him for his fieldwork later and–”

“It doesn’t matter who goes with him, right? I’ll go with him instead.”

“Huh? Are you sure? I don’t mind, plus he specifically asked me so maybe–”

“Y/N, it’s fine, really! I used to go on client visits all the time before he started dragging you along with him. I’ll be okay, promise!” He’s confident in his words, reassuring you of all the concerns he knew were starting to bubble up in your head. “I know you’ve been worried about getting everything done before the deadline, you shouldn’t have to waste your precious time following him around and pretending like you care about his wife.” 

The comment makes you giggle, everyone knew the senior for the way he could go on and on about his family life knowing damn well no one was actually listening to his neverending rants. “Thank you, Sanghyeok. It means a lot, really.”  

“Maybe we’ll be able to leave at the same time today, yeah?”

 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Two days before the deadline. . .

The following day, after everyone else in the office logged out for the night, Sanghyeok sneaks back into the office. He made it his mission to discreetly plant a care package for you while you’re busy in the printer room– It’s nothing big, no, rather just a hot cup of tea and a sandwich he’d purchased from the cafe across the street from the building. 

You’d offhandedly mentioned the way you get so immersed in your work without anyone peering over your shoulder that you forget to cater to your growing hunger, often resorting to eating instant ramen in the break room before returning to your desk. Sanghyeok knew how much the project meant to you, but that didn’t mean he was going to let you neglect your health just for a positive response from your old boss.   

You’re confused when you come back to your cubicle, finding all of your previously haphazardly scattered project papers perfectly organized in a folder by the edge of the desk. The lid was taken off the cup of tea, presumably to let it cool down a bit before drinking. Huh? The note atop the sandwich container answered the questions lingering in your mind.

hope you don’t mind me moving some stuff around on your desk :p  eat up before you get back to work! good luck y/n!  sanghyeok (  ≧ᗜ≦)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ One day before the deadline. . .

“You think Alvin will mind if I borrow his spot today?” Sanghyeok questions, swiveling around in an office chair that didn’t belong to him.

“You could probably erase all the files off his computer and he wouldn’t bat an eye,” You joke as you sort through the stacks of papers residing on your desk, looking for a particular document. “I’m convinced he gets paid to just sit there and play card games for eight hours.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him touch his keyboard.” Sanghyeok chuckles before logging into the computer beside you.

“Why’re you using his computer though? You’re not going home yet?” 

“I think it’s only fair for me to help you finish the proposal when we’re supposed to be submitting it tomorrow,” Sanghyeok answers matter-of-factly. You watch as he opens up the same powerpoint you’ve been staring at on his own monitor. It’s quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the occasional clicks of your mouse. “...Doesn’t it get lonely working all by yourself?”

You pause to think for a moment. It’s not the worst thing in the world, you’re sure you wouldn’t be capable of doing it everyday if it was that unbearable. “No, not really. If anything, it’s nice to not have anyone pulling me away from my desk for some stupid shit– Sorry, stupid stuff.” You correct yourself. 

“I know we’re still at work and all, but you don’t need to censor yourself when it’s just us. I’m not gonna snitch on you for cursing on the clock, Y/N.” He teases, not surprised to see that you’re still in work-mode even when the office is practically empty. 

“Oops, just force of habit. I'd rather die than accidently curse in front of one of the oldies we work with,” You smile sheepishly, feeling at ease with him at your side. You’re not sure when you grew so fond of the man – maybe it’s because of how similar you are in age or the way he’s always so quick to defend you in the meeting room – but he’s always felt like more of a friend than a co-worker in times like these. “...It’s nice to have some company for a change, though. Felt like I was going insane looking at the same documents all by myself.” 

“It’s okay to admit you get lonely sometimes, Y/N.” Sanghyeok pauses his typing to look at you, his eyes soft when they meet yours. “I was thinking about it on my way home the other day, you know, the way you willingly stay in the office after everyone leaves every night. It’s hard to imagine it isn’t difficult being by yourself all the time.”

You’re silent, knowing that he’ll see through you no matter what you say. Sure, you had your fair share of moments sitting crying at your desk, in fear that your efforts wouldn’t pay off despite how much you’ve been trying, but that doesn’t mean you need his help. You made it this far all on your own, after all. 

And when you fall asleep at your desk, exhaustion finally catching up to you, Sanghyeok doesn’t hesitate to rest a sweater on your back. He knows how upset you’ll be once you wake up, bummed that you dozed off at such a crucial time, but he’s more than happy to let you sleep for a bit before gently shaking you awake after a well-deserved power nap. 

“Shit, how long was I knocked out for?” Embarrassed, you rub the sleep from your eyes, turning away to yawn. 

“It wasn’t even thirty minutes, you’ll be fine Y/N. I finished editing a section of the report while you were sleeping too.” You tap on your mouse, waking up the black screen, happy to see that a good chunk of the comments you’d made on the document were long resolved. “Can you promise me something?” 

You’re offset by the sudden serious mood lingering between you two, but you slowly nod regardless. “Even when this project is over, will you promise to come to me if you need help?” 

“I know I only joined your team recently, but I want you to know you can depend on me. It’s not fair for you to do all this on your own,” Sanghyeok can sense the way you’re processing his request in your mind, watching as you hesitate to answer. “I know it’s probably weird coming from someone who’s only been here a couple months longer than you, but I promise I’ll try my best if you ever need me.” 

“Okay.”

“...So that means you won’t try to turn me down whenever I offer to do something for you, right?” 

“Yes, Sanghyeok, I won’t turn you down when you try to help me.” You roll your eyes at him before turning back to your computer, missing the way his face lights up at your response, proudly smiling to himself. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The day of the deadline. . .

You’re sure you could cry tears of joy when you send the final version of your project proposal to your boss. There were a few sections you wish you had more time to perfect, but it was impossible without an extension to your deadline– There’s nothing else to do but wait until you get feedback, which is entirely out of your hands at this point. 7:15PM. It’s still two hours past the usual 5:00PM ending time, but far earlier than you’ve clocked out in the past two weeks. 

“You’re actually leaving at the same time as me? I’m not dreaming, right?” Sanghyeok pinches at his cheek, earning a giggle from you in response. 

“Well, I just forwarded all the documents to our boss. Felt like I deserved at least one early night during the holidays,” You close your eyes as you fall back in your chair, letting out a content sigh knowing there wasn’t anything else you had to do for a while. “God, I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sanghyeok.” 

He holds the door for you after you’ve both collected all of your belongings, bundled up for the harsh temperatures waiting for you outside the building. The elevator ride down is silent until the man next to you clears his throat, prompting you to look at him. “So, do you have plans tonight?”

“Ah, not really. I was planning on picking up some dinner at the convenience store before heading back to my place.” He nods, fiddling with his tie in a feeble attempt to calm down his nerves from what he was about to do. 

“Can I take you out to dinner, Y/N?” Your eyes widen slightly, unsure what to make of the question. Was he… asking you on a date right now? It wasn’t out of the ordinary for coworkers to share a meal off the clock, but the fact that it was just the two of you had your brain malfunctioning. “...You know, as a thank you for working so hard on the project! It’s the least I can do.” Sanghyeok laughed nervously, hand flying up to the back of his neck as he waited for your response. 

It doesn’t take long for you to decide your answer, nodding in confirmation, feeling slightly bashful at the sudden act of appreciation you weren’t used to receiving, especially not at work. There’s a pep in his step as he brings to you one of his favorite ramen spots, a hole-in-the-wall joint tucked away from the main streets. It’s cute, honestly. You’ve learned a lot about your coworker in recent days, but this side of him was entirely new to you. 

You’re glad you trusted his recommendations when you take your first bite, the hot broth immediately melting the chills you garnered from the short walk there. Despite this being your first interaction with Sanghyeok outside of work, there’s no awkwardness in your time spent together– Instead, a fuzzy feeling rests in your chest as you look at the man sitting across the table from you. Perhaps it’s due to the newfound absence of pressure on your back from sending in the project proposal, or maybe because it’s the first time you’ve allowed yourself a proper meal in days, but it’s a feeling you don’t wish to lose any time soon. 

Usually you’re one to rush back home immediately after dinner, not wanting to lose any second of rest you have before you’re forced to go back to the hell you call work, but you’re more than happy to accept Sanghyeok’s invitation to go to a nearby bar for some drinks following the meal you shared. It’s there you realize he’s a lot wittier than he comes off as when you’re on the clock, your cheeks aching from smiling so hard at his endless supply of jokes. 

You don’t stay there long, only garnering a couple drinks before finding yourself walking around one of the parks in the area you didn’t even know existed, gawking at the string lights adorning the trees. Work was taking up all of your attention that you didn’t even have the time to decorate your apartment for the holidays like you normally would’ve. This was the closest thing you could get, but you were far from complaining. 

“I never expected you to be like this, Sanghyeok.” You confess after coming down from the fit of laughter he’d induced with one of his stupid puns.

“What do you mean?” He asks, worried that he’d done something wrong. 

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to say anything bad! You’re just… A breath of fresh air, I guess.” Your words emit a cloud of vapor in the frigid air.  “I’m sorry I didn’t notice it sooner, I’ve been a real shut-in especially with the deadline and–”

“You don’t need to apologize for that, Y/N.” He cuts you off; he’s well aware of your tendency to apologize for things that you didn’t need to be sorry for in the first place. It was one of the only things he wished he could change about you, wanting you to give yourself more credit for the love you poured into everything you did. “I just wanted to make your life easier, I guess. Thanks for giving me the chance to do that tonight.” 

“I should really be the one thanking you. You’ve been nothing short of helpful ever since you joined our team,” Thinking back on the past couple days, Sanghyeok never once shied away from doing things to ease your burdens, even going out of his way so you could focus all your attention onto what mattered most to you. “It’s like you were some sort of holiday miracle sent to me.” 

Unwrapping the scarf from his neck, Sanghyeok carefully loops it around the back of your head, securing it snugly at the front of your jacket. “It’s freezing… You should really be layering up more.” He’s glad the lighting on the trees is too dim for you to see the blush creeping up his neck after seeing you in his clothes. He’d probably blame it on the frosty air if you called him out on it. “Ah, it’s snowing!” 

The gaze you were previously sharing is broken as you look up, crystal white snowflakes slowly sinking from the sky. It was surreal to be standing in the middle of the park, ambient light illuminating the way the snow ended their descent atop your heads, your shared laughter harmonizing at the sight.

And despite the cold weather, you felt warm standing next to him.

© lionhanie 2025 ; all rights reserved!

[gwynethshadowsinger]

My Thoughts about the Bonus Chapter(s)

Feysand - Happens around Ch. 22 (I think)

I do think everyone has spent a long time assuming Elain is sweet and innocent and that we will end up seeing a different side emerge when it's time for her story to be told. I think she's a lot like Lucien. Willing to stand back, but won't be afraid to step in and show that other side when needed. She'll access her surroundings beforehand, though, and act accordingly. Almost like a sly fox just waiting for their moment 👀

Feyre is right. If Elain had been wearing the gloves Lucien had gifted her the previous Solstice, she wouldn't have gotten hurt by that stubborn rosebush. Is this particular phrasing some type of foreshadowing for Elucien? Will Lucien protect her from any and all harm if she's just let him in instead of running away?

I loved finding out where the baby's name came from 😍

Azriel - Happens around Ch. 58/59 (I believe)

Poor Azriel. He just wants a mate and what Rhysand and Cassian has 😭

I didn't much care for his interaction with Elain. It felt wrong and off. He's full of negative, only sexual emotions, and him being around her is not good for him.

Azriel shouldn't be trying to go after a female who has not rejected the bond, especially knowing how he holds the mating bond in regard.

I also didn't like how Elain was willing to let Azriel kiss her so close to her (supposed) sleeping mate. Both of them were in the wrong here.

That rose necklace..... Elain was hurt once again by something with roses. This is the second time Sarah has mentioned her being hurt by something with roses. That's gotta be intentional on her part. Maybe Elain will give Lucien a chance now? I doubt she'd end up hurt by him. He's done everything to respect her and is just waiting on her to come to him. I really hope she does.

Rhysand asked all the right questions 👏

The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another. Boy... you couldn't even say Elain's name?!?! The Cauldron also only turned two sisters. Not three.... so he's already way off base....

Azriel admitted he didn't get far with his planning, certainly never behond the fantasies he pleasures himself to after saying Lucien would never be good enough for her...well that absolutely killed any lingering thoughts I had about a potential pairing between him and Elain. Yuck. I'd want a man to think of more than just sex and for his own sexual purposes. Lucien so far is the ONLY male good enough for Elain.

He'd been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight... tonight had proved he'd been right to do so.

His interaction with Gwyn was 😍😍😍😍

I LOVE the shadow's reaction around Gwyn. How they dance with her breath. How they were calm and content to sit on Azriel's shoulders after something restless settled in Azriel. How they SUNG BACK IN ANSWER!!! If that isn't major foreshadowing, idk what is.

I'm insanely proud of how far Gwyn has came to.

Again...the necklace.... while I HATE he regifted it... I love this ending to the bonus chapter. How he found himself in front of Clotho, unconsciously.. almost like he was drawn by something 👀

He might not consider Gwyn a friend, BUT.... I say that might change in a big way.

THAT ENDING!!! The SPARK ✨️ The PICTURING OF GWYN'S EYES LIGHTING UP. THE TUCKING THE THOUGHT AND PICTURE AWAY DEEP DOWN WHERE IT GLOWED QUIETLY. THE SLIGHT SMILE THAT ACTION CAUSED THAT HE HAD TO CONCSCIOUSLY ERASE... OMG ARE THEY GOING TO BEMATES?!?!?!

A THING OF SECRET, LOVELY BEAUTY!!!! AHHH!!!!

These bonus chapters totally made me 100% an Elucien & Gwynriel supporter.

[lonepantheress]

i really love you

☆ pairing: kim gyuvin x reader

☆ genre: angst mostly! rlly not as romantic as i hoped

☆ warnings: yunjin le sserafim cameo

☆ wc: 3.3k

☆ a/n: i feel like i owe 1000 apologies and then some. this is the first thing that i've written in awhile. i know i've been MIA but life has really been chaotic. still i wrote this a few weeks ago and decided just to post since i haven't. i miss this blog and the lovely messages i'd receive. i hope you all enjoy &lt;3.

You were often told that people envied your friendship with Gyuvin. You hadn’t known each other your whole lives, but it definitely felt like it. In fact, you considered yourself lucky to have a connection that goes so far beyond the surface level.

The depth of your bond presented itself in a way you considered unique. It was incredible to have someone who knew everything about you – who wanted to know everything about you. He was your shoulder to cry on and the most reliable person that you knew. You often found yourself with the fleeting thought of What if we were more than just best friends? But you brushed it off before you even gave yourself the chance to entertain it.

Still, it was no question to the people around you that you and Gyuvin were something more than best friends – even without that “Boyfriend-Girlfriend” label.

Which is how you found yourself in this position: You and Yunjin found yourselves in the same boat of “I-haven’t-know-you-my-whole-life-but-I-definetly-feel-like-I-have,” meaning you frequently spent your time with one another, and on a weekly basis you slept over at her apartment and vice versa.

You’d watch movies and do skin care and braid hair, but above all you exchanged secrets. Over months and months of sleepovers you found out about Yunjin’s secret spelling mishap of 8th grade, and she found out about your high school boyfriend who liked to call you “Sugar Plum” unironically. No matter how serious or ridiculous the secret, they came out naturally in the dead of night during almost every sleepover the two of you would have.

“I think, maybe, deep down inside, I am possibly harboring some feelings for Gyuvin.” The confession came out with the same pit in your stomach you get when you’re throwing up. 

You sat across from Yunjin on her apartment bedroom floor with green face masks adorning both of your faces. You couldn’t believe the words that had just left your mouth, your heart raced while you waited for Yunjin to give you some sort of response. When your eyes darted up at her, she looked at you wide-eyed and jaw-dropped. 

The room seemed to hold its breath, almost as if it were waiting with you for Yunjin to say something. You were having one of those heart-to-hearts that you only have in the dead of night, admitting all kinds of secrets that you had to look deep inside to find. Still, upon hearing yours, she blinked a few times as if she was trying to process what she’d just heard.

“Wow,” she said softly, breaking the silence, “I mean, I already knew that! I just wasn’t expecting you to say it!”

You managed a weak smile in return, the corners of your lips shaking with nerves, “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Well? You haven’t said anything to him about it?”

“What? No! Oh god, no. That hurts my head just thinking about it, no. I can’t.”

“You can’t?” 

“I can’t.”

She didn’t understand you, but she understood the weight of your words and decided not to bother you about it anymore. Yunjin reached over and gently put her hand over yours, the warmth of her touch grounded you in that moment. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. You know I’m here if you need anything, right?”

The confession occupied the air between the two of you like a fragile secret. Now, the green face masks seemed oddly out of place. As if the intimate exchange had transcended the triviality of their original purpose. 

Yunjin’s initial shock gave way to a soft smile, her eyes holding a mixture of empathy and understanding. The kind of understanding that could only be offered by close friends – knowing they may not comprehend the depth of your emotions, they will be there for you nonetheless.

You sighed heavily and turned your gaze to the ceiling, letting all those emotions you shoved down take their place in your heart. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling half the time,” you admitted, voice carrying a mix of frustration and self deprecation.

Yunjin chuckled, her eyes crinkled in the corners and the dry mask of her face cracked in sync. “Babe, feelings are messy! I don’t think mine ever follow a logical path.”

“God, tell me about it. It’s just… Gyuvin, you know? We’re just too good as friends. What if I ruin it?”

Your hand received a reassuring squeeze from Yunjin before she withdrew her touch, a pensive expression on her face. She leaned back on her arms, considering your words carefully.

“I mean – I personally don’t get where you’re coming from,” she began, voice gentle, “But think about it this way Y/n: if your friendship is as good as you believe it is, then it’s strong enough to handle some turbulence. Emotions aren’t always predictable, and that’s okay! What if some weird unspoken tension affects your friendship more than your harboring some secret feelings?”

You sighed again, staring at the tiles at the ceiling as if they’d give you the answer after a while. “I know. You’re right. It’s just scary…I don’t even care if he feels the same way, what if things get weird between us?”

Yunjin leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “Babe, look, I can’t predict the future. I do know that honesty is the best policy, though. He deserves to know the truth, but you deserve to express your feelings even more! Whether he reciprocates or not, it’s not in your control. What you can control is how you handle this moving forward.”

“You’re right,” you admitted, letting your head down to face her. “I can’t even tell you how long I’ve been avoiding this for. It isn’t fair to either of us.”

Yunjin smiled widely at you, mask cracking more and more. “Exactly! And you know what they say about regrets, right?”

“What do they say?”

“Well.. I don’t really know. But they have to say something about it! Look, if he truly values your friendship then he’ll appreciate your honesty.”

You smiled back at Yunjin, your own mask cracking from the movement in your face. Yunjin stood up and held her hand out for you to grab.

You reached out and took her hand, letting her help you up from the ground. The air in the room felt a little lighter now, as if the weight of your confession had been shared and the burden lessened.

“Come on,” Yunjin said, “Let’s wash these off and then go to bed. We can talk about this in the morning or something. And if things don’t work, I will happily accept a confession from you on his behalf!”

Despite the impact that your much needed heart-to-heart with Yunjin had on you, you still found yourself unable to take any immediate action (or any action at all, for that matter.) In fact, it was more like the opposite. Your behavior took an unexpected turn – one that puzzled those around you. To you, though, it all made perfect sense. You had finally sat down and confronted those feelings that you had long harbored, and you need some time and space to really process it. Particularly, time and space away from Gyuvin. 

You shifted to practically being inseparable from one another to being distant and withdrawn. Those who’d grown accustomed to seeing you two together nearly every day were now met with your fleeting glances and casual avoidance. It was you who’d placed the invisible barrier between you and Gyuvin, leaving him equally confused by your sudden change in behavior.

Though, he didn’t know what exactly caused this sudden shift with you, he wasn’t blind to the cues you were throwing his way. He noticed immediately your short responses (if he had received one at all), and your excuses to avoid making any plans. He saw you take the long way from one place to another and he could only assume it was so you could avoid crossing paths with him. And while the biggest part of him wanted to know why, his brain told him to just let you deal with whatever it was you were dealing with. 

This went on for three weeks before someone decided to mention it. 

“What’s going on with Y/n?”

“What’s going on with Y/n?” Gyuvin scoffed at Matthew’s question and deadpanned, “If I knew that, she’d probably be here right now.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow, “Man, don’t get mad at me. I’m just so used to seeing you guys together all the time. It’s weird to everyone to see you guys apart like this.” Matthew leaned against the table at the campus café that they both sat.

Gyuvin let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair, “You’re telling me? I’ve tried talking to her but she’s just… distant? I dunno. I can’t put a finger on why.”

“Did you guys have a fight?”

He shook his head, face full of frustration. “Is it bad if I say I wish we did? At least then I’d know what I did. She’s just been acting different. We used to spend hours talking about the dumbest shit and now it’s like pulling teeth to even get a few words out of her.”

Matthew took a sip from his coffee, gaze fixed on Gyuvin, “Maybe she’s going through something! Sometimes people start acting like that when they’re going through something personally. It could be something heavy, and she’s just not ready to talk about it yet.”

Gyuvin frowned at that idea, his mind was racing considering Matthew’s words. What could be so bad that you wouldn’t tell him? “You think so?”

Matthew nodded. 

“I mean.. I don’t know, man. We’re always there for each other. If that’s the case then I wish she’d just let me in.”

Matthew gave a wide, reassuring smile before replying, “Maybe she will, eventually. Just give her some time. Try not to let her push you away completely, keep reaching out. Even if it’s just a, ‘Hey. How’s your day?’ text or something.”

Gyuvin nodded, trying his best not to acknowledge the little pit in his stomach that was gnawing at him, “I’ll do that. But I get to blame you if your advice sucks.”

With the days passing, Gyuvin took Matthew’s advice to heart. He started sending you the occasional message asking about your day or giving you an anecdote out of his. He wasn’t expecting lengthy responses, but he wanted you to know that he was still there regardless of whatever it was you were dealing with.

You, on the other hand, were dealing with all kinds of complex sentiments about your situation. To no one’s surprise, honesty was a much easier concept to speak about than it was in practice. That confession to Yunjin that night had opened a floodgate of uncertainty and fear for you. Part of you had expected your feelings to be reciprocated or to at least be brushed aside as a passing thought, but the reality was much more complicated. You’d unintentionally thrown a wrench in your friendship with Gyuvin, and it was past the point of you knowing how you could fix it. 

You spent a lot of time thinking about it, your situation. You stared at your messages with Gyuvin and wondered if they’d be any different if you were honest. When you’d see him on campus laughing with his friends, your heart would ring itself out. Your close friends could notice the toll that it was taking on you, especially Yunjin. She was the only one who knew anything about what you were feeling, so she was the only one who could try to help.

She noticed how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes anymore, or the heavy sighs that seemed to escape you involuntarily, or the way that you’d space out and think to yourself more often. 

One night, you were both sprawled across her living room couch with a movie playing in the background. The atmosphere was interrupted by the loud chime of your phone. It sat on the coffee table in the center and the screen was lit up with a text.

“Who’s that?”

You both knew who it was. “Oh, probably my mom or something. I’ll just reply later.” You could lie all you wanted, but you couldn’t pretend that your situation wasn’t getting to you. The message was short and sweet, but it made your stomach erupt with butterflies while simultaneously giving you the urge to throw up. Hi, I’m thinking of you. Just wanted to check in and ask you about your day.

“Y/n.” Yunjin spoke softly, but she sounded stern. She wanted you to take her seriously and to let your walls down again.

“Yunjin.” You responded, putting your phone back down and looking her in the eye.

“I can see how much this is bothering you. It’s eating you up inside, isn’t it?” She sat up and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, pausing the movie before facing you again. Neither of you need to clarify what “this,” was because the heavy toll it had taken on your heart was evident to anyone who knew about your feelings.

You couldn’t stop the tears before they began to fall. You could only nod in response, unable to put your feelings into words. 

“Babe, I think it’s time to face this head-on,” Yunjin suggested, maintaining a firm but gentle tone. “You can’t avoid him forever. It’s hurting the both of you.”

“But what if it makes things worse?” You whispered, voice trembling.

“I really, really, really don’t think you’d do that,” Yunjin sighed and faced you directly. “He asked me about you the other day.”

That only made you cry harder, feeling like your heart would just explode in your chest. “What’d he say?” You managed to ask through sobs.

“You know, he just wanted to see how you were. If everything was okay with you.”

“And what’d you tell him?”

“I told him that I couldn’t really say. That you’ll make the time soon to go talk to him.”

“Yunjin…” you trailed off and broke your eye contact with her, feeling embarrassed. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy,” she began, “But, this distance? This awkwardness? It’s not doing you any favors. At least if you talk to him you’ll know where you stand.”

All you could do was nod before Yunjin brought you into a deep embrace, comforting you while you cried on her shoulder.

Over the next few days, you continued to wrestle with the decision of finally facing Gyuvin. The inner turmoil was beginning to reach its peak, you knew that you couldn’t keep pretending like he didn’t exist. Yunjin’s words echoed in your mind as a constant reminder to confront your feelings and put an end to the growing distance between you and Gyuvin. 

One evening, as the sun began to set and cast a variety of golden hues over the city, you found yourself standing in front of Gyuvin’s favorite coffee shop. It was also your favorite, but you’d been avoiding it on the off chance that you’d see him there. Your heart raced as you took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage to go inside. The bell above the door tinkled as you entered, scanning the cozy interior until your gaze met Gyuvin.

He was sitting by the window, engrossed in whatever assignment he was working on, his brows furrowed in concentration. The sight of him sent a rush of emotions through you – familiarity, comfort, and a twinge of nervousness. You scolded yourself internally for being scared to talk to your best friend.

You approached his table, cringing at how loud your footsteps seemed to sound in the otherwise quiet café. He looked up, surprise registering on his face before morphing into a warm smile.

“Hi,” he greeted, closing the books that littered the table and setting them aside, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Hi,” you echoed, your voice a little shaky, “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

Gyuvin’s expression to a more confused one, but his smile never faltered. “Of course you can sit with me,” he gestured to the empty seat across from him, “I would actually really like it if you did.”

You settled into the seat, avoiding eye contact with him. The silence between the two of you hung for a moment before Gyuvin decided to speak up, “Is everything okay with you? I feel like I never hear from you lately.”

You took a deep breath, your heart still racing. “That’s actually why I came here. I was hoping you’d be here so that we could talk.”

His brows furrowed slightly and his expression dropped, concern evident in his eyes, “You can tell me anything. Please, talk to me.”

“I really love you Gyuvin.”

Gyuvin smiled earnestly at you, “I love you too. You know that you can tell me anything, right?”

You sighed and looked him in the eye before repeating yourself, “No, I mean, I love you.”

Gyuvin's eyes widened, and he seemed momentarily taken aback by your confession. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. 

You cut him off before he could speak, “I just – I sort of realized it one night and I couldn’t figure out how to face you? I didn’t know how, so I just didn’t. And I know it was wrong and I know I should’ve just been honest with you and I just….” you trailed off and looked for some sign of understanding in his eyes.

There was a passing moment of silence where your eye contact was never broken, but you could feel your heart drumming against your chest while the lights in the café began turning on to account for the lack of the sun.

“I love you too.”

Your eyes widened and you waited to respond out of fear that the butterflies in your stomach would fly out if you opened your mouth. “You love me?”

“I really love you,” he mimicked your earlier statement.

You laughed a bit and let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, reaching a hand out to intertwine with Gyuvin’s. “I was so scared. That by telling you I’d ruin our friendship. That scared me more than anything.”

"Y/n, you have to understand that our friendship is incredibly precious to me, like a guiding light in my life. But you… you're more than that. And now, it's as if our bond is being woven even tighter, stronger, because we're entrusting each other with the most vulnerable parts of ourselves." Gyuvin's voice softened, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "It's a kind of feeling that I never want to lose."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you at his words, tears welling up in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks, “I should’ve talked to you sooner. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his free hand. “You’re here now. We’re here now and that’s what matters.”

You chuckled through your tears, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Yunjin was right, you know. She told me I needed to face this head-on.”

“I never thought I’d say this about her, but you have a pretty smart friend,” Gyuvin teased, his smile widening.

You both laughed, the tension in the air dissipating. It felt like a heavy fog had been lifted for the both of you, leaving a clarity that neither of you had seen before. The café seemed to fade into the background as you focused on each other.

“So…” you began, “What do we do now?”

Gyuvin leaned in a little closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “I think you owe me, at the very least, a date for what I had to put up with this past month.”

You nodded, stifling your giggles from him before responding, “I think I can make that happen.”

[cornertheculprit]

okay along the lines of my last reblog because i've been thinking....alright. i am a big disliker of aa5/aa6 for their complete character/storyline annihilation alone. if you've been on this blog for like a day it's probably obvious. that being said! i'm one of those people who's just like. welp. whether i like it or not it IS canon and i just gotta work with what i'm given. it is what it is.

now! that being said. i fucking love the complicated relationship between phoenix and apollo. i think it's fucking awesome and i hate how badly it was nuked in aa5/aa6. so one idea i love to play hot potato with in my head is that while apollo is in khura'in, thalassa finally gets her shit together and she and phoenix break the news to apollo and trucy that they're related. and the main thing i'm really fixated on is the idea that phoenix withholding information from apollo, AGAIN, after phoenix seemed to be getting better and things weren't like they were in aa4 anymore, kind of moves apollo more towards the idea of bouncing back and forth between khura'in and the states once everything calms down, as opposed to being gung-ho for completely settling back down in the states one day like he said he would at the end of aa6.

and i think this change would come as a result of the difference between apollo in aa4 and apollo after aa6, which is that apollo now has options—in aa4, apollo is completely and utterly on his own, with the exception of clay (who wasn't even in the game. and there's only so much a best friend can do). he spent two months unemployed because he literally didn't want to ever see phoenix wright ever again after the disaster that was his first trial. he said it himself:

Apollo: Two months have passed since Mr. Gavin's arrest. My first trial, and I lost both my mentor and my job. Yeah, I'll admit it. I was screwed. But even when I hit bottom, I told myself I'd never come here. Honest.

he was desperate and STILL didn't want to go there. he only came to the wright talent agency because phoenix literally called him on the phone (And Still Did Not Tell Him A Damn Thing Except "Help! We're in big trouble here at the office! Big!"). but in aa6, he has his own law office and he's reconnected with his long-lost brother, who cares about him, wants to work with him and is also A Literal Prince. even if everything in his life were to explode at once, apollo now has the forever option of fucking off to khura'in and just hiding in the palace for the rest of his life (not that he would do this. but the option is There). he's in a far more comfortable position than he was in aa4 to sort shit out, and phoenix hiding the knowledge of his mother from him is something different than the shit phoenix was pulling in aa4, because. well. it's personal!

the shit phoenix pulled in aa4 can be rationalized; for example, kristoph was the killer in 4-1, but they absolutely needed a piece of conclusive evidence and apollo just so happened to be collateral. which sucks, but phoenix had trucy to think about, and i think he would understand that even if he's still rightfully pissed at phoenix for pulling a move like that (side note: apollo would not have had any legal papers when he got sent to america. i think about that a lot. the entirety of his paper trail background is a lie). but it's one thing to be getting jerked around like a puppet on a string for the greater good—it's another to make an effort to put the past behind you and believe that your boss is doing it too, and for everything to calm down for years, only to discover that he's been hiding the secret of your own fucking mother from you this entire time (regardless of whether or not he actually wants a relationship with her, but that's another post). which just gets worse after aa6 because phoenix was right next to apollo when he was breaking down on the bench about dhurke being dead. like. it's personal this time, and it's even more of a backstab because they're supposed to have moved on from this by now! things were better! everything was fine! and then the rug was pulled out from under him, again, and it's not necessarily a final nail in the coffin because phoenix's daughter is his half-sister (and he cared about her despite that. i don't think it would even really change anything) so of course he's going to be back, but. it's something damn close to it.

so...i think apollo's priorities would shift. i think he would stop planning to come back and properly work at the WAA unless they really needed him for something, like Big One-Off Dramatic Cases or whatever (because athena and trucy are still his friends). i think he'd start to lean more into the fact that he has a foot in both worlds. but i just cannot see apollo going back to working under phoenix after something like that gets dropped on him, because again—being jerked around and stumbling in the dark in aa4 sucked, but at the VERY least, apollo and phoenix weren't that familiar with each other at that point. it sucked but they could only go up from there. and, in line with canon, they did! and then phoenix and thalassa dropped the bomb. and. well. apollo is no longer at rock bottom and out of options. if phoenix tried to pull another phone call trick like he did in aa4 on him i'm fairly certain he'd just get punched again.

[satoruxx]

congrats on 200 followers!!

im thinking of hsr blade + reader who keeps throwing him corny science-y pickup lines :3

examples:

"if i had to choose between DNA and RNA, i'd choose RNA because it has U in it"

"are you an arrhythmia? because you just made my heart skip a beat"

"are you rheumatoid arthritis? because you make me feel weak in the knees"

(inspired by @/nathan_fang_'s science rizz on ig, theyre absolute gold)

pairing: blade x reader | 1.3k+ words summary: all fluff and crack, just a teensy tiny bit suggestive at the end but it's harmless, blade is TIRED, classic sunshine x grump trope bc we all secretly love it hehe a/n: AHHHH hello anon! this was so much fun to write omg !! blade is such a grump i love him. i don't know if i did him justice though lol. i really wanna pull for him but i spent all my savings on luocha sobs. anyways thank you thank you for your support and i hope you enjoy this <33

blade didn't mind working in pairs. normally, he worked well with the teammates he had. following kafka's plans usually ended with a success, and even as irritating as silver wolf could be, she had enough knowledge in her brain to get them out of sticky situations. he definitely didn't mind working with either of them.

you on the other hand, blade was unsure of. ok yes, in your defense, he knew that you were quite intelligent. you were well-versed in the lifestyles of many different galaxies, and you were the type of person who liked to research as much as you could before you stepped foot on a new planet. so the first day blade met you, he did truly believe you were a mature, all-knowing researcher joining the stellaron hunters.

that was before, though. while you still did come off as all-knowing, he now knew you were far from mature.

"will you please quit it?"

you grin cheekily, watching him pace back and forth in front of the locked door you both were hiding behind, on the look out for guards. his red eyes dart back and forth between the door and you as you sit at one of the computers, extracting some files for the mission.

"i'm just saying you could try to smile more, blade."

he scoffs, eyes lingering on you and your annoying grin for a second longer. "nothing to smile about in my life."

you snort, shaking your head as you absentmindedly tap at the screen. "well that's dramatic. you just need something to make you laugh."

"I don't see any funny people around here." he sneers, eyes narrowed as he shoots you a sarcastic grin. you place your hand on your heart in mock offense.

"i'll have you know i am very funny!" you say defensively, shooting him a glare. blade only raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

"sure thing. because everything you've ever said has got me positively giggling. now will you shut up and work faster so we can get out of here?"

a mirthless smile graces your face as you narrow your eyes at him in retaliation. "you just have no sense of humor." you mutter, turning back to the screen. blade rolls his eyes before resuming his lookout, though his gaze does wander back to you more times than he cares to admit. the room is silent save for the occasional clicks of the software you were accessing, and for a second blade thinks he misses the sound of your talking, but he pushes that thought aside.

you somehow seem to pick up on it though, because you speak up again. "hey blade?"

"what?"

"are you rheumatoid arthritis?"

he can't see your face with your back turned to him, and he seems to think you're seriously asking him a question, because he frowns and begins to speak. "are you stupid? do you mean to say do i have rheumatoid arthritis? because, you know that i do not-"

"because you make me feel weak in the knees!"

there's a tense silence as he stares at you, his brain trying to process what you just said. when it clicks his lips curl into a sneer and he groans.

"aeons, will you please shut up? you are so stupid why am i stuck here-"

"hey blade, if you were an element you'd be francium because you're the most attractive!"

his clicks his tongue as you giggle, finally standing up and making your way over to him after downloading all the data you needed. you peer at him mischievously, eyes scanning over his sour expression. "what, not even a smile? tough crowd."

he scoffs, opening the door and ushering you out in front of him so that he can keep an eye on you. "what, that was your strategy? stupid nerdy pick up lines? try harder."

"you're underestimating my resolve, bladie. i will get you."

he hums absentmindedly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at you as he peers down halls for any enemies before sending you the signal to keep walking.

you clear your throat, and he sighs as you begin your inane antics once more. "you must be a good benzene ring because you are so aromatic!"

"stop it right now."

"you must be made of uranium and iodine, because i can see U and I together!"

he pauses, eyes narrowing as a weird tumble occurs in his chest. he glares down at you from the corner of his eyes, trying his best not to dwell on it because aeons above you were just being stupid. he hears you laugh under your breath, and he's about to scold you once more before he hears voices approaching.

"shut up. guards." he orders quietly, pulling your arm back so that you're now hiding behind the wall with him. he watches them carefully, scarlet eyes scanning for any sudden movements as he keeps you behind him. suddenly he feels your finger poke at his bicep as you whisper:

"are you a carbon sample? because i really wanna date you!"

blade feels his face grow hot as he glares at you angrily. he immediately turns around and presses a bandaged hand over your mouth, leaning in close to hiss at you. "you idiot. didn't i say shut up? they're right there!"

you reach up to pull his hand away from your face, though your fingers continue to hold his as you give him another cheeky smile.

"ooh," you whisper dramatically, grinning at his close proximity. "are you a heart arrhythmia? because you just made my heart skip a beat!"

blade's eyes dart all over your face, and he ignores the way that it feels like his brain is short-circuiting since it's probably just because of how reckless you're being. instead he just opts for rolling his eyes and clamping his hand back over your mouth. you let him this time, though he can still tell you're smiling by the way your eyes crinkle.

as soon as the coast is clear, he's leading you back to the ship without a word. the entire way there, you continue to drop more of your stupid lines, and he only gives you annoyed groans in response.

by the time you both are safely back, he's had enough of you.

"-you have 11 protons? because you're sodium fine!" you giggle, and blade's eye twitches once before he's turning around and getting in your face once more. his eyes bore into yours as he smirks.

"oh yeah? if i was an enzyme, i'd be dna helicase, just so that i could unzip your genes." he says, keeping his voice even as he stares at you.

your jaw drops, face heating up at the unexpected turn of events as you stumble over a response. "w-wait, you-!"

"what? you've been yapping my ear off about how great our chemistry is. don't you think we should do some biology together too?" he smirks, red eyes lighting up as he takes in your flustered expression.

"well that's not what i-!" you pause, breath hitching as he leans closer and brushes a strand of loose hair out of your eyes. he chuckles under his breath, peering at you through his bangs.

"damn. you must be an alkali metal. one touch and already highly reactive, huh?"

"blade!" you hiss, eyes darting away from him and he finally relents, pulling back to watch you with an amused grin. you clear your throat, almost like you know how caught off guard you look. "i have to go...report to kakfa."

he bites back a grin, watching you leave through the dark strands of his hair. so flustered that you didn't even realize that in the end you did get him to smile? how amusing.

he laughs quietly to himself, shaking his head. maybe, just maybe, he could try to ask elio to make you his partner permanently.

[forest-falcon]

The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 15

⚠️ Trigger Warning for angst/whump

❤️💚💜🩷 🚒🧑‍🚒

There was something unnerving about seeing the strongest person she knew, crumpled unconscious on the floor.

Tam found him cocooned around his Grandmother - sleeping soundly like a child who had sought out the comfort of a parent during a storm.

It all seemed so peaceful, but for the obvious devastation peppered over, and around them. And, of course, the glaring fact that Virgil was, indeed, unconscious, and not asleep.

Her heart panged hard, as she finally remembered to breathe, her chest shuddering with the deep inhalation.

The family didn't deserve this - well, most people didn't; but, it went double for the Tracys. It wasn't so much that they put their lives on the line on a daily basis; that debt of gratitude went without saying. It was perhaps the fact that she'd had the privilege of spending time with the family during her training; breaking bread with them in the evenings, sharing new stories she hadn't heard at the firehouse a gazillion-plus times. Somewhere during their training, Phoenix had shed their associate titles and had emerged as friends; which made this rescue so much harder than her average John or Jane Doe.

"Mrs. Tracy?"

"Told yer a thousand times kid; Sally suits me just fine. Mrs.Tracy is reserved for our shareholders, and Brains - who I've given up trying to change.

"Sally," she corrected herself, feeling a sudden warmth fill her face.

"How are you holding up?" Tam scrambled to unpack her medkit.

"I'll be a lot better once this brave idiot is off me. Can't breathe."

Tam paused a moment, and frowned. Virgil's weight was only partially resting on Sally; his body angled in such a manner as not to crush her. She wondered briefly if that had been at all planned on Virgil's part.

"Level with me kid, what are you thinking?"

Tam had a lot of time for Sally; she was brave, kind-hearted and wonderfully feisty - especially given her age, which she guessed was a taboo topic, here on Tracy Island. The woman was also far too sharp-witted to have the wool pulled over her eyes.

She sighed, continuing to work, as she analyzed the scene before her.

"I think the initial impact of your fall may be the real reason behind the pain you have breathing. Virgil's been careful to lie in a way that would not crush you."

"Sure sounds like him. So?"

"So...we need to check for injuries."

There was a confidence in her voice that she did not feel - or rather, she was confident about things; procedures, protocol, her job. But, inwardly, having not one, but numerous people she cared about (more than she perhaps should, given the amount of time she'd actually spent in their company) she'd admit it; this rescue had her shook. Tam buried the feeling deep, and ran the scan.

"How're they doing?"

Tam looked up from the scan to see the youngest Tracy approaching.

"Alan?" Sally's voice rasped out.

"Sally, you have three broken ribs; but as far as I can see, they've not caused any significant injuries to the surrounding area,"

She passed the med-scanner to Alan, who concurred.

"Well, Grandma; I'd say that's earned you a VIP stay in Tracy Island's very own infirmary. Don't worry, I've heard the doctors there are very good-looking!"

"I wasn't aware that Kip was a doctor too!"

"What? Eww! No!"

Grandma's chuckle was instantly switched for a grimace of pain.

Alan gently rescued a hand on her shoulder.

"Hel-p Vir-gil," she breathed.

"Tam's doing just that, Grandma. Penny and myself will look after you. It'll give Tam the space she needs to properly help Virg."

A hover stretcher, followed by a well-spoken lady appeared. And, before-long, Sally, Alan, and the woman - Penny vanished. Tam couldn't exactly say when. Her attention now firmly on the one member of International Rescue who had yet to regain consciousness.