#I’m sorry this took so long!! 🍓🍓🍓

[inkluvs]

coffee ++ caramel !!

ur cute

sav(e) yourself

[mallowsweetmiri]

Strawberry Pie 🍓 ~ F.W.

Part 1 • Black Bikini

Summary: You’re staying at the burrow for the summer like you do every year. All is well expect for the fact that you kind of slept with your long time family friend, Fred Weasley.

Warnings: thigh riding, cursing, mentions of sex

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Your POV:

You woke up in Charlie Weasleys old bed to an unusual amount of chaos coming from a few floors below you. You groaned as you rubbed your eyes and stretched. The morning sun bathed your skin in warmth. You let out a content sigh as you closed your eyes once more. You loved being here, especially since you got Charlie’s old room, the best room. The window next to the bed looked out on the sprawling hills towards the east, a big tree sat in the middle of the view. Little birds chirped in the thick cover of leaves. You heard the patter of footsteps rapidly approaching your bedroom.

“Y/N!” The door busted open to reveal a bounding Hermione Granger with Ginny hot in pursuit behind her. Hermione threw open her arms and squealed as she jump onto your bed to tackle you with a hug.

“Granger! I didn’t know you were coming today, I would’ve gotten out of bed earlier,” you frowned as Ginny and her took seats on your bed.

“Sorry, I forgot to tell you yesterday. You know, too much sun at the beach and then I wasn’t allowed to hang out with you last night,” Ginny glared at you but you just laughed. Ginny couldn’t keep a straight face, but you knew that she really did want to hang out with you and twins last night. She was just too young for drinking games with the twins. And… oh Merlin.

Suddenly, you remembered what had happened last night. George had taken Ginny and Ron back to the house, leaving you and Fred alone on the hillside. One thing led to another and… well… you ending up naked with your oldest family friend.

“It’s okay! Now that you’re awake, we can start our day,” Hermiones voice tore you out of your thoughts.

“Okay, okay I’m getting up now,” you sat up straight and yawned, “what are we doing today?”

“Get dressed and meet us downstairs for breakfast,” she grinned, “we’re going strawberry picking.”

After Ginny and Hermione left your room, you quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a white cami. You checked yourself out in the mirror. You had definitely grown this past school year. The biggest difference was your chest which had filled out significantly in a just one school year. In fact, you really needed a new bra. But besides the physical side of things, you also just felt more mature. You swept your hair up into a loose pony tail, leaving your neck bare and exposed. You fell still as you saw a small purple blotch in the crevice of your neck.

“Shit,” you cursed, tying off your hair and reaching for your wand on the bedside table. You applied some glamour to your neck to hide the mark and then pulled out more than a few strands of your bangs to give you more coverage. You had forgotten that Fred was kissing you all over last night. You saw yourself blush at the thought. You continued to get ready like this. You started brushing you teeth and recalled opening your mouth for Fred last night. You applied lip balm and remembered his wet mouth in between your thighs. You walked downstairs and made yourself swear to stop thinking about it, but you wondered if Fred was in the kitchen too.

As you reached the bottom floor, you saw Molly cleaning in the kitchen and 5 seats taken at the dining room table. The Weasley children and Hermione sat around the table feasting on pancakes, sausage, eggs, potatoes, and toast with jam. You graciously thanked Molly before sitting down to get some grub of your own.

“Okay so after breakfast we’ll leave to walk to the fields. Definitely pack a hat or something to cover yourselves so nobody gets sunburnt. Also I was thinking that after we come back we could bake something with the strawberries,” Hermione spoke with incredible speed while simultaneously spreading apricot jam on her toast. Ron huffed out a smile and took a bite of his own breakfast.

“That sounds great ‘Mione. And while you girls cook, I’ll be taking a nap,” Ron said with a full mouth. Hermione turned to smack him on the arm causing the twins to laugh. Of course this made you look up, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Fred was wearing he wore a simple t-shirt, but it seemed like he was starting to grow out of it. You couldn’t fathom that the twins could grow anymore, they were already a full head taller than you. But there was Fred, leaned back nonchalantly in his chair. His hair had grown out slightly from the year away from home and his face seemed to be more dotted from the summer sun. He met you gaze and gave you a soft smile. You could’ve sworn he was blushing a little.

“What do you think Y/N?” Hermione turned to you to hear your opinion. You cleared your throat and ripped your eyes away from Fred’s.

“Erm- what were we talking about?” You asked with a sheepish half-grin. Hermione raised her eyebrow at you.

“What should we bake this afternoon?” She asked, sweeping her eyes to Fred as he sat back with a noticeable grin on his face. Merlin, couldn’t he keep that smile off his face for two seconds? It was hard to think.

“Hmm, strawberry pie,” you grinned as you sat up to bring your plate to the sink.

“Mm, that sounds simply divine,” George said in his best posh voice, standing up to join you by the sink. Fred gathered his plate as well.

“Indeed, George. That sounds delicious,” he crossed the kitchen to put his dish in the sink, “and I do like to have something sweet after dinner.” His arm brushed against yours. Immediately the contact made the hairs on your arm stand up. Since when did that happen? When did Fred start making you feel this type of way?

Maybe since his head was buried between my legs and he used his pretty mouth to give me the best orgasm of my life, you thought to yourself, making yourself blush a crimson shade of red. You cleared your throat and made your way onto the front porch. You sat down on the bench and began putting on your boots, you knew the fields would be muddy. The screen door swung open and Fred turned towards you with a half smile. As soon as you guys looked at each other, both your faces flushed red and you looked away. Fred took no time to recover and made his way over to sit next to you. Suddenly your boot zipper was extremely fascinating.

“I’m glad to see you up in this morning, Y/N. I was afraid the fire whiskey had gotten to you,” he teased, putting on his own boots.

“I don’t think it would’ve been the fire whiskey that took me out,” you mumbled, color running into your face again. At this point, you were sure you looked like a tomato, and you could hardly look up at Fred. You had a small moment of panic, what if last night ruined everything? Fred’s chuckle took you out of your doubts.

“Take a breathe, Y/N. You look like you’re about to faint,” Fred laughed as he took a look at your face. You smacked his arm and let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. Your mouth couldn’t help but curve into a smile. That always seemed to happen around Fred. The two of you fell into a small silence as you both finished tying your boots. The door burst open as the rest of the gang piled out onto the porch to put their shoes on. You gathered some baskets and passed them around before the 6 of you set out towards the fields. They were right next to the burrow, but they spanned for acres. You and Fred naturally hung back from the group and strolled at a leisurely pace.

“Summers here are truly amazing,” you sighed, breathing in the fresh breeze. Fred smiled down at you.

“Truly, and I have a feeling this summer is going to be the best one yet,” Fred hummed as he veered right towards a particularly abundant bush.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Freddie?” You skipped up next to him and began picking berries. You figured you already knew the answer but you wanted to hear him say it. Half of your mind was still convinced that last night hadn’t happened at all.

“Well I told you, Y/N. I’m going to make you mine this summer,” he said this so casually, you almost didn’t hear him. You’d completely lost interest in the berries at this point.

“Fred,” you tested. You almost thought he was joking, but his face was dead serious. His expression was something you rarely saw on the face of a Weasley twin. “Are you serious?”

“Look at my face,” he said, pointing up at himself, “do I look like I’m joking.” He did not, but it only took about one second of his seriousness to cause both of you the keel over laughing. You dropped your basket which Fred promptly picked up for you. As you grabbed the basket from him, your eyes locked. It felt serious again.

“Fred, I don’t want to ruin anything while I’m here this summer. Even if last night was... I don’t want anything to go badly…” you trailed off, feeling vulnerable in front of your best friend. He only stepped closer to you and put his hand on your cheek. Even though he’d been inside you only last night, this felt more intimate than anything you’d done before.

“Just trust me, Y/N. Nothing is going to be ruined,” Fred whispered. His finger ran along your cheek, behind your ear, and down the side of your throat. He chuckled, “except maybe your neck.” You blushed and swatted his hand away.

“Can you see it? I thought I covered it this morning,” you grumbled, rubbing your neck as if to wash off the mark.

“I can only see it because I was looking for it. Don’t worry, you can keep up your little goody two shoes act,” Fred teased, flicking a strawberry your way. You rolled your eyes and smiled at his words. The two of began to walk toward the group once more. Ginny was laughing her ass off.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, strolling up next to Ginny. You soon saw why she was laughing. Ron was frowning, sinking into a mud hole, his boot stuck in the mush and filled with mud.

“He’s such an idiot,” Ginny barked, pointing at her brother. Hermione tried to stifle her laughs.

“Oh, come on now, Ginny. Let’s help Ron out,” George said, stepping up to grab Ron’s arm. Ginny grinned and grabbed his other hand.

“On three,” George said, “one… two… three!” The two of them tugged on Ron before releasing him back into the mud. He fell with an oof as the rest of you broke down in laughter.

“You guys are actually the worst,” Ron grumbled, throwing a handful of mud at Fred.

“Hey! What did I do?” Fred exclaimed, grabbing a handful of mud at slinging it at Ron.

“Oh, fuck,” Ron said as George pelted him with another handful. It took about 3 seconds before everyone was covered in mud, howling with laughter as you continued to pelt each other with mud pies. Your fun lasted all of two minutes before a shrill yell came from the house,

“What in Merlin’s name do you kids think you’re doing!”

Molly Weasley was marching out of the burrow and towards the strawberry fields. You all stopped. You let the mud slip out of your fingers and slop onto the ground.

“Come here right this instant!” She yelled, stomping her foot and pointing towards the ground she stood on. You looked towards Ginny who whispered, “oh shit.” The six of you started to head back towards the house, the twins grumbling to themselves.

“Its like she’s allergic to fun,” you heard George whisper, Fred laughing and elbowing him in the side.

“Seriously don’t make me laugh. We can’t get in trouble this summer,” Fred whispered back, earning an eye roll from George. His eyes looked back to you for a second, and you wondered if he knew about last night. He probably did.

“You kids are trouble! I thought you were going to go pick strawberries, not roll around in the mud!” Mrs. Weasley scolded, making Hermione drop her head in shame. “Go clean up in the pond-”

“But Mum! There are frogs in there!” Ron whined, earning a glare from his mother.

“I don’t care, you lot are a bunch of frogs. You’re not allowed back in the house until all the mud is off of you. You tried not to laugh at her sass as you walked towards the pond. Ron was grumbling to Ginny about this was her fault and Hermione looked like she was going to cry.

“Don’t worry, ‘Mione. She’s not really mad. Once we bake her a delicious pie she’ll forget all about this,” you smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder. She swallowed and nodded. That girl was too sweet for this world. The grass grew longer as you entered the shaded brush near the pond. You stripped your shoes off and waded into the water. It really wasn’t too disgusting, it was just warm. The twins followed after you.

“Watch out for the bullfrogs, Ron,” Fred teased.

“Yeah, we caught at least 5 of ‘em yesterday,” George added, stripping off his shirt. Next came Ginny and Hermione, who were mildly grossed out by the slime. Then Ron who looked disgusted. You chuckled to yourself as you sunk into the water, rubbing the mud off of your arms. Fred watched as you rubbed over your chest, his lips twitching at the corner. You sent a splash his way to deter him from looking which didn’t really work. Fred followed George’s suit and stripped his shirt off, the shaded lighting making him look absolutely divine. Fuck. You almost groaned at the sight and had to turn away to prevent yourself from drooling. Gods, you thought he looked good playing quidditch this year but seeing him shirtless and wet everyday this summer made you feel insane. After a few minutes of washing off all the mud, and a few splash fights, you guys headed back towards the burrow. One by one, you all cast drying spells on yourselves, and headed inside.

“Before we start the pie, I’m going to go change,” Hermione said with a face of disgust. While the pond got the mud off your clothes, you definitely reeked of dirt and sludge. You all murmured in agreement and headed upstairs to change. You got off on your floor, heading swiftly to your room.

Fred’s POV

I watched her go towards her room as me and George kept climbing up the stairs. She was going in there to change, to take off that little white tank top that was just soaking wet against her chest. Fuck. I had to keep my train of thought from wandering. I didn’t realize how difficult it was going to be to control myself after last night. After I saw her perfect tits bouncing while I fucked her and watched her face as she came and fuck. I didn’t even realize I had turned around and started back down the stairs and towards her room. I knocked on her door swiftly.

“Fred?” She asked when she opened the door.

“Can I, uh, come in?” I asked, smiling sheepishly at her. She nodded and moved to the side to let me in. I shut the door behind me and stood in front of her. She looked nervous, waiting for me to say something.

“Y/N, can I be honest,” I breathed out a chuckle, feeling slightly awkward in front of what used to be only my best friend.

“Of course, Fred,” she replied, holding her hands behind her back as she looked at me.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, uhm, after last night,” I admitted, feeling a relief as the words left my mouth. She let out a breath.

“I know how you feel,” she chuckled, moving towards me.

“I don’t even really know why I’m here,” I chuckled again, breathing in as she stepped closer again.

“Do you want to, I dunno…” she blushed, looking up at me expectantly. I wasted no time in closing the gap between our lips. I let my hands grip around her waist, making her gasp into my mouth. I pressed her against my body, wanting to feel all of her. I couldn’t get enough, I just wanted to take her to bed.

“Com’ere,” I breathed, falling to sit on the bed and pulling her with me. She groaned as she straddled my hips, sinking down and feeling my length through my jeans. I groaned and pressed her down against me. Her legs felt so good under my hands, her hips gently moving on top of me. I swiped my thumbs across the front of her hips, causing her to whine into my lips. Merlin, she sounded so sexy. I moved my leg under her and used my hands to guide her hip back and forth on top of my thigh. She threw her hand back with a moan.

“Shhh,” I shushed her, bouncing my leg up and down as she rode me. I brought my lips up to hers, causing her to fall closer to my chest. She whined into me, giving me the change to slip my tongue into her mouth. I pushed her back and forth on my leg, earning more pretty moans from her mouth. I felt her shudder on me as she pulled back.

“Fred, I’m so close,” she whined, her face falling into my shoulder. I kissed down her neck.

“That’s it, come for me darling,” I murmured, licking over her neck and rubbing her down on my leg in a faster rhythm. Her moans got muffled in my shoulder as she sped up her movements. I wanted to hear her while she came, but shushed her gently as a reminder. She whined quietly as she shuddered on top of me, her hips grinding slowly on my leg. I kissed her tenderly as I helped her ride out her high. “Such a good girl,” I whispered in her neck before kissing up the side of her jaw and towards her lips. We shared on last kiss before she pulled back, her lips curling up into a smile.

“Fuck,” she giggled, panting on my lap. I smirked back at her.

“Did you like that?” I asked cheekily. She blushed and nodded before burying her face in my shoulder. I laughed and picked her up, placing her on her feet. “You should probably get changed. We don’t wanna be late to the pie making party.” She chuckled and playfully shoved my chest.

“Then get out of my room so I can change,” she teased, rolling her eyes. My face fell into a half grin as I threw my hands up and started towards the door.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” I protested, exiting out into the hallway. She smiled as she shut the door behind me. Once again, a permanent grin was plastered on my face as I walked up the stairs. I readjusted my pants before stepping into my room.

“Mate, are you and Y/N fucking?” George asked, fixing his hair and the mirror. I breathed out a laugh and shrugged, moving towards the closet to change.

“Oh, it’s so much more than that, Georgie. I think I’m in love,” I sighed, pulling a band tee off the hanger. George chucked and came over to clap me on the back.

“Good for you, brother. I knew it was going to happen this summer,” George smiled at me and I smiled back. He would always be my number one wing man.

“Thanks, George. You mind helping me out with something? I have a plan,” I grinned. He grinned back at me.

“Count me in.”

[strawberrypoundtown]

Hi! I’m a big fan of your work and your writing style.

If you’re still open to prompts(no worries if not):

Perhaps an incubus who falls in love with it’s mark, and struggling to remain composed or ‘professional’ due to their feels?

Please and thank you ❤️

(Omg I love this idea. Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like what I did with it! I'm so sorry this took so long to complete. I wanted to try and do something different with this one to experiment a bit more. Any advice or critique is welcome 😁 I do want to make a part 2 for this eventually, but I honestly have no idea when I'll actually be able to write it. Until then, any ideas for the 2nd part (or a name for him) are more than welcome! Without further adieu, please enjoy the show! - 🍓)

Incubus x Fem!Reader

After starting work at a new office, you've been trying to ignore your incubus coworker and his countless attempts to invite you into the supply closet, or his home after work hours. It's not until he admits that he doesn't just want a one-night stand that you might give him a chance...

Contains: tentacles, sexual tension, bondage (tentacles), gagging, grinding

This wasn't supposed to happen. It never took him more than a few days to convince someone to go home with him. Usually, he was able to do it in a matter of hours, and they ended up bent over his desk. Why were you so difficult? You were just a human. The most beautiful human he had ever seen walk into the office, but just a human either way.

Then why did you turn him down everytime he even walked up to you? Sure he had a rep, but it was a good one. A lot of the other girls at the office considered him good for stress relief, so why wouldn't you let him show you that? Or more importantly, why did he care so much that you kept rejecting him? He couldn't wrap his head around it. He had been rejected in the past and was never all that affected by it. But why did your rejections hurt so badly?

He couldn't feed on anyone else until he had you. The thought of feeding on anyone but you made him feel nauseous. Everyone else smelled terrible in comparison. He even almost gagged once when he was in a morning meeting, and you had called in sick.

You were like a breath of fresh air, and your kindness towards everyone in the office since you arrived made him annoyed. Some of the other monsters in the office were starting to flirt with you after you had rejected him the first time. It made him so angry that you were torturing him like this.

He was done with the casual approach at this point. He couldn't stand having people look at you like he did. He wanted you all to himself, at least for one night. He isn't supposed to get attached to his marks, but he couldn't help it. You had ruined him by simply existing. Everyone he looked at that could be a potential mark were nothing compared to you. They didn't have your body, your voice, your eyes, your smile, or your scent. He just wanted to drown himself in you just once to purge his urges at least, but you wouldn't let him do that.

But today was different. He had a plan. Your team had a short meeting that morning, and he had pretended to leave first, instead waiting outside the door until everyone else had left. He noticed you always stayed back for a few moments to yourself for whatever reason, often just cleaning, but this time, you were going to be staying back for another reason.

All of a sudden, he heard giggling from inside. Your giggling. It was followed by a masculine laugh and the disgusting scent of werewolf flooding his senses. He growled and peered through the crack in the door to see you smiling and giggling with a werewolf that sat next to you during the meeting. His claws dug into the doorframe as he tried to listen in while looking at you through the crack in the door.

"Oh, you're too funny." you said with a sigh, wiping a tear from your eye as you stared up at the handsome young werewolf.

"Why, thank you (Y/n). I take pride in my sense of humor." he said with a cocky smile, leaning into your space as he spoke.

"You should. I always laugh when we talk." You said softly with a sweet smile, seemingly leaning towards him as well.

"Well, how about I get you to laugh later tonight? Why don't we grab drinks after work tonight? There's a bar near my place..." he proposes to you with a smile, his fangs bared.

The door suddenly swung open before you could even contemplate an answer.

"There's a bright yellow sport car in front of the building getting towed. You better go get it, dog." The incubus growled through grit teeth, glaring into the werewolf's eyes.

"Son of a bitch... I'm so sorry, I gotta go. Think about what I said. I'll be expecting your answer after lunch." Ths werewolf softly purred to you before quickly walking outside the room. The incubus wasted no time and swung the door closed, letting it slam.

"What was that about? Coming to try snd get in my pants again?" You spat before rolling your eyes and starting to organize your papers. Gods, you were such a feisty human sometimes. He loved that about you.

"Technically yes." He chuckled, the rumble in his chest more appealing than you'd care to admit. "I didn't want anyone else around."

"I know you won't do anything unless I give my consent." You said bluntly as you tapped your papers together and tucked things away. You knew incubus couldn't do anything without some kind of genuine verbal permission.

"What? Oh fuck no. Nothing like that... Jesus christ, who do you take me for?" He sounded offended as one of his hands came up over his heart.

"A horny incubus that won't leave me alone." You groaned as you turned towards him, going to walk around him. Suddenly, his arm shoots out, blocking your path as he plants his hand on the wall. His claws were peaking out and leaving marks on the wall.

"You don't understand." He growls, a bit harsher than intended before he inhales deeply, trying to calm down as he runs a hand through his hair between his horns. "Once I have my target set on a mark, I can't change it unless they reject me."

"Then why do you keep coming back? I've rejected you so many times... Don't you have plenty of other girls that would be more than willing to give you a snack?" You pointed out how many women were always hanging all over him. It made you sick. Of course you wanted to fuck the hot incubus in the office, but you know yourself. You don't like to share. You like having a partner that's yours and yours alone.

"No. I've never encountered anyone that makes me feel like this..." He leans in towards your face and softly sniffs the air. "You smell so good... I can't think of feeding on anyone else right now... I think I just need a taste... just one night..." His voice is dripping in a pleading tone, bartering, but practically begging for you.

"I can't do that." You said bluntly as you avoided eye contact with him. The heat pooling in your panties didn't help your faltering moral defenses. You knew better. You had to stay firm. Firm like the bulge forming in his dress pants...

"Please?" His deep desperate voice broke you out of your daze as you softly gasped, trying to pretend to be offended instead of turned on as your face turns red and you glare into his eyes.

"N-no! I'm not interested in having a one night stand with you!" You barked, your chest heaving as you stared up at him. Your heart raced as you took in his appearance unintentionally. He was tall and slender, with sharp features. his typically carefully slicked back hair was a bit disheveled from running his hands through it in frustration. His horns were short and blunt usually, but you could see them growing by the moment. In fact, it seemed like his entire frame was growing.

"Oh." He purred. "I get it now." A wicked grin spread cross his face as you tried your best to maintain an annoyed expression. "You haven't been rejecting me because you don't want to sleep with me."

"What?" You jaw slacked open as you looked up at him in shock. "Why else would I be rejecting you?"

"You've been rejecting me because you want me so bad you know you'll want more." He chuckled, his other arm suddenly swinging around to cage you against the wall. "I can tell by how wet you were right now."

"That could have been from anyone else today." You scoffed, but you knew you couldn't pretend you weren't also starting to get desperate. Yiu also couldn't pretend that in an office full of monsters, most of them could probably smell your arousal whenever you had walked into a room.

"I'm an incubus, baby. A demon of pleasure. I can smell it in your blood how turn on you get from being around me." He chuckled with a grin. Fuck. He was onto you. "And it started shortly after I walked in the room..." Double fuck.

"Fuck you." You hissed through grit teeth, your blood pumping as you thought about how many times he must have known you were turned on by his presence.

"Oh babygirl, don't be so hostile. If you wanted more than just one night with me, we could easily arrange that." He starts to lean in close to your face, but you put a hand on his chest and push him back. You couldn't have him in your space like this for long or to hell with your morals.

"Look, I don't sleep with guys unless I'm dating them. I don't do friends with benefits or random office hookups." You finally admitted with a sigh, avoiding eye contact in embarrassment. Your hand on his chest alone was driving him wild. You had never touched him before. He felt his horns getting bigger as he struggled to keep his mostly human form intact.

"Wait, what? Why not?" He said as he finally processed what you said. It was hard to pay attention when you kept touching him.

"Because I know I get attached easily." You admit shyly, your voice nearly whisper quiet as you pulled your hand away. You had his full attention now. "Think about it. You're an incubus that needs to feed on pleasure to survive. You have a good routine going here with everyone else in the office from what I've heard." You let out a shakey sigh as you felt tears start to well in your eyes. "If I'm added into the mix, I know I'm just going to end up hurt... because it already hurts..."

"Wait a minute, what do you mean it hurts?" His voice has changed from frustration to worry mixed with confusion. He didn't understand what was hurting you.

"Excuse me?" You question, a bit confused by his confusion.

"What hurts you right now?" He asks, a bit more clearly as he stares into your eyes and gently cups your face. His touch makes you stiffen, although all you want to do is melt into his hand. As if he has some kind of truth spell on you, you take a breath and let out a soft sigh.

"Y...you do... you hurt me... I see how you talk to the other females in the office... it hurts... ever since I walked into this office I've found you attractive... I've only been here for a few weeks, and I've honestly already been looking to transfer to a different department so I don't have to be around you all the time." You admit softly, averting your gaze before his hand suddenly grabs your face by squishing your soft cheeks.

"What?! Hell no!" He barked with a growl. The thought of you transferring away from him made him enraged. He couldn't let that happen.

"Excuth me?" You mumbled through your squished lips, his grip firm, so you couldn't move, but not harsh.

"You heard me. Hell no." His grip on your face loosens as both his hands move up to hold the side of your head. The look in his eyes is wild, his pupils huge as he doesn't even seem to blink. "You've ruined me, so you don't get to run away from me like that."

"W-what?" You stutter confused, staring back at him as you tried to process his words. What does he mean you ruined him?

"If all you wanted from the beginning was to have me all to yourself, you should have said something." He mutters as his thumbs slowly rub your cheeks. His gentle touch makes you let out an involuntary sigh. "You've made me want no one but you since you got here anyways... your rejections were like being stabbed in the heart... God, without you around, everyone else smells like hot garbage... you smell like fresh summer rain that I wanna drown in forever..." He whispers to you as he moves his hands down your neck and to your shoulders before dropping down your back slowly.

"You really feel like that?" You whisper softly as a shiver goes down your spine. His hands find your hips and hold you firmly in place as he presses his chest against yours. Your arms and papers squish between the two of you as his hot breath bathed your face.

"Yes. I mean every word... if you want to try and date me, I'd be more than happy to only feed from you." He slowly leans down and presses his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply as you can feel his hardening bulge against your lower stomach. "I just don't know how much longer I can wait for you... being this close is torture... I can take you on a proper date tonight, but..." His breathing seems to get heavier as you start to hear the ripping of fabric from behind him. "I need you." His eyes were filled with need at he looked like he was about to start drooling over the most deliciousmeal he's ever had. He was starving and desperate to just feel you. "Please."

"I need you too." You finally whispered, breathless yourself as this was finally too much. You hoped he was telling the truth, but your horny brain didn't even care anymore. You needed him just as badly in that moment.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've needed to hear you say that." He lets out a relieved sigh and chuckles before a dark black tentacle comes out from the darkness and grabs your papers, throwing them onto the table. He wastes no time in pinning you to the wall, his wings bursting out from his back and ripping open the back of his suit. "Shit." He grumbles, quickly just tearing off the rest of the fabric on his upper body as he pulls up your skirt, making you wrap your legs around him as he grinds his bulge against your panties to tease you. You're about to let out a moan as he takes your soft lips in a deep kiss. You instead moan against his lips as your hands find his hair, gently tugging as he moans in return.

He's barely even done anything yet, and he feels like he just had a full meal. Your pleasure was so easy to stir and the buzz it gave him was addicting. This was dangerous. He didn't think you'd actually be so tasty. But you were now quickly becoming his new favorite meal. More tentacles manifested out of the darkness, wrapping around your arms and legs slowly as they explored your body and held you in place. The tentacles were warm and wet against your skin, almost feeling like strange tongues. You feel them pin your arms behind your back, your chest now pushed out as he rips the front of your blouse open. You gasp and squirm a bit about to complain about your shirt being ripped before he quickly silences you with a quick kiss.

"I can get you a new shirt, baby. Just relax and enjoy this." He purrs softly, making you shiver before his lips are back on yours again. He slides his tongue into your mouth and seems to be trying to taste as much of you as he possibly can. Two tentacles slide into your bra and wrap around your breasts, fondling them as they flicked your nipples. He quickly unbuckles his pants and pulls out his throbbing cock from his boxers, rubbing his length between your slick folds. He groans against your lips softly before pulling away to rest his forehead against yours.

Your brain is fuzzy as you look up at him, your eyes drunk with lust and he could swear you had hearts in your eyes. Your eyes flicked downwards and widened as he chuckled. He was bigger than you expected, but you weren't going to shy away from a challenge. However, before you could tell him to go ahead and fuck you, you felt a warm, slick tentacle move your panties to the side before prodding your dripping wet hole and slowly sliding into you. It was thick, stretching you slightly as it wriggled inside you against your most sensitive bumps inside you.

"I can tell you're a needy one... a secret kinky side... I like that." He groans as he bucks his hips against yours, rubbing his cock against your bundle of nerves. Your back arched as you couldn't help but let out lewd moans, another tentacle swiftly sliding into your mouth. "You're really enjoying this. I can't believe you resisted this for so long." He chuckles with a wicked grin. You moan around the tentacle in your mouth as you squirm, your eyes fluttering as the tendril in your pussy plays with your sensitive walls. Your face flushes as you felt yourself starting to get close already.

"Fuck baby... if you taste this good just to play with, I need to know how good you taste when you cum." He pants softly as you notice drool from the corners of his mouth dripping down onto your chest. His eyes are wild with lust as they dart over your body laid out just for him. His cock continues to thrust roughly against your clit, picking up the pace along with the two tentacles inside you. You don't know how much more you can take.

"Cum for me baby." He commands, making you shiver as you suddenly come undone. Your pussy contracts around the tentacle as you gag on the lne in your mouth. Your entire body trembles as you're fucked through your orgasm, the tentacles only pulling away slowly for a moment after you're done cumming. You're panting and gasping for air as the black tendril slides put of your mouth, your pussy red and puffy as the other slides out as well.

You're left whining softly as your pussy clenches around nothing and you try to catch your breath. You want to tell him you wanted more. That you wanted his cock. You needed it. Drool drips down your chin as he leans in to lick it away, pulling his dick away as the black tendrils move you to the large table. He begins licking the sweat from your body, leaving you wet and needy.

Once he finally moves to 'clean' between your legs, you're groaning and moaning softly with need. He licks up your thighs, stopping before touching your pussy. Your squirming in the grip of the tentacles still, bucking your hips as you pray for him to touch you. You're left whimpering and shaking with desire as he fixes your messy panties and pulls your skirt back into place.

"You really are needy." He growls as his eyes finally start to settle from their crazed daze. The tentacles slowly release you and he uses the shreads of his shirt snd jacket to ensure you're cleaned up. "But I can't get too carried away... not yet."

"I wish you could have." You whisper with a cheeky smile as he begins to clean your face of any spit or tears left behind. He chuckles lowly as he holds your face with one of his clawed hands. His eyes still held a burning desire for you, and you knew he saw the same in yours.

"You'll find out tonight. You took the bus today, right?" He asks as he manifested two of his shirts, opening one of them up and sliding it on your arms before beginning to button it up. You notice his more demon-like features starting to slowly go away, showing that he's much calmer now as he takes on his human appearance again.

"Yeah?" You raise an eyebrow, wondering why he was asking. It wasn't uncommon for you to just take the bus when you didn't feel like driving in the morning. He quickly finished buttoning the shirt he put on you before putting on a shirt himself now that he won't rip it with his wings.

"Good. You're coming home with me after work." He said with a smirk as he buttoned up his shirt. You whined softly and bit your lip as he now covered himself. He helped you off the table, but held your hips as you stood in front of him now.

"I want you to save that energy for our date tonight."

"Oh really?" You giggle as you run your hand along his chest, undoing the top bottun to let a bit kore of his chest show. "You better finish what you started then." You feel him practically purr as he stares down at you with a mischievous grin.

[maxlarens]

I got a lot to say so it might be long,

starting with, thank you for the Charles smau and the Lando fic <3

it took me time to choose an emoji lol but I've been doing an internship and time goes by way too quickly, but I decided to go for the strawberry one 🍓

and since you said you wanted to write for driver! reader, and that she was very intense about driving, maybe you can write something about her racing while she's sick/not feeling well but she still wins the race

woo hi again!!! literally no big deal! i hope ur internship is going well, it’s awesome that you’re doing one!! but yeah literally real life is always the priority as much as i’d also like to spend all my time on here lol. but anyway yay the strawberry is super cute 🍓🥺

and YES lol driver!reader is consuming my thoughts right now. i have other things i should be writing instead of this but i smashed this out in a few days😭 i decided not to make it a win because i have a thing brewing for driver!readers first win and i didn’t want to use up all my ideas for that. anyway!!! as usual thank u for the ask and pls enjoyyy 🤗

OP: extraordinary machine

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: you push yourself to your limits. (also sorry i simply don't know enough technical terms about racing for this to be fully accurate but i hope it works)

word count: 3.4k+

Here is a fact— you’ve got a fever of 39.4 degrees.

Here is another, indisputable fact— you’re racing in Imola today.

The fever had come on overnight after a persistent tickle in your throat all weekend. A mildly sore throat had turned rapidly to a snotty nose, full body chills and sweat pouring off you like you’d just run a marathon. You’re wearing a puffer jacket over your racing suit and it’s twenty-nine degrees out. You feel freezing, you feel delirious, and you’re eating Sour Patch Kids by the handful to keep the sugar rush going. Your race engineer, Rachel, keeps telling you that it’s okay if you can’t race. George can step in, I promise. You keep telling her I’m fine. I’m fine. I can race. But the expression on her face says she doesn’t believe you.

You’re telling practically everyone who’ll listen that you’re getting in that fucking car today. Rachel, George, your mum who keeps calling. Lewis keeps looking at you like you’re about to keel over and die and you want to scream at him you did this! Brazil 2015. You had a fever. You got on the podium. If I can’t do this and you can, what does that mean? But you don’t because that’s your 39.4-degree fever talking and this isn’t about being better than Lewis. It’s about knowing without a doubt that you can still get in that car and race your ass off.

Your phone keeps buzzing with texts from Susie that reassure you that you’d be disappointing no one at all if you had to let George take over this race. You’re not letting down women everywhere and you’re not letting down the team. I know Susie, you keep saying, but I’m still racing.

You know you’ve got to convince Toto when Rachel starts a hurried conversation with George and he starts grabbing his fireproofs like it’s a sure thing he’ll be driving in your place. Bundled up in your coat like it’s the middle of winter, you stomp over to Toto’s office and barge in.

“I’m racing,” you tell him without any preamble.

His head snaps to look at you, expression only mildly surprised— not that you would even notice if you didn’t spend so much time around him. He gives you a once over, eyes lingering pointedly on your jacket and then he raises his eyebrows, “It is twenty-nine degrees outside.”

You suck your teeth in frustration, “I know. The car will be hot. I can race.”

He frowns.

You plead, “Toto. Do not take me out of that car. I can do this.”

He shakes his head, “I can see you sweating from here. You’re not well.”

You shake your head frantically, ignoring how your vision starts spinning, “Let me race. If I fuck up you can put George in the car for Monaco. If I fuck up you can even replace me. I don’t care. Just let me drive today.”

Toto’s face pinches in the way it does when he’s considering something, you can see cogs turning in his head as he evaluates what you’ve said and decides if he should listen to it.

He sighs, “I am not putting that kind of ultimatum on you,” your heart stutters and stops in your chest, and you hold your breath, “Okay. Against my better judgement, I will let you race today.”

You let out an audible breath, it edges out into a sob that makes your aching body curl into itself. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes for a moment to suppress the urge to give in to your fever. It would be easier to give up, it would be easier to let George take your seat for the race so you could crawl into bed and cry the fever out. But none of this has ever been easy for you. You’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, you won’t forfeit a race and let people say you took the easy way out.

You look up. Toto looks concerned.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

You practically stumble onto the asphalt before the national anthem, passing your coat off to Rachel while your trainer wipes your forehead with a towel as if you’ve just finished a full-body workout. Your shoulders feel tense, you can’t stand up straight without shuddering so you’re hunched over awkwardly hoping it doesn’t come off looking too strange.

People are still milling about, setting things up while the drivers assemble. You don’t really notice on account of the fever state you’re in, but you end up standing between the McLaren boys. You must brush against Oscar because he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a line and his eyes wide like a puppy dog. You get lost in them a little— because of the fever. Definitely.

“Dude,” Oscar says to you, “You’re really hot.”

On your other side, Lando breaks into a fit of laughter. You frown, your brain trying the puzzle through the sentence. You feel foggy, your eyes feel heavy. You need more Sour Patch Kids, or a shot of espresso, or five Red Bulls. Max could swing it for you.

Oscar leans past you and swats at Lando’s shoulder, “She’s burning up, stupid.”

Lando’s laughter pauses, and he says seriously, “Oh shit.”

Suddenly, you’re being twisted around and you’re wincing at the contact on your shoulder that makes it ache even more. Lando puts a hand on your forehead and then immediately rips it away.

“Eugh. You’re sweaty.”

The back of Oscar’s hand replaces it. You twist away, brushing it off.

“You’ve got a fever,” he tells you, his voice thick with concern for you, “Have you told anyone? Does Toto know? Lewis?”

Instead of answering you press a hand over your eyes and crack your neck, trying to work through some of the stiffness in your back. You roll your shoulders and stand up as straight as possible, pushing through that aching, sickly feeling that runs through your whole body. When you finally drag your hand from your face— a thin sheen of sweat coming with it— Oscar is staring at you with a deep-set frown on his mouth. At his shoulder, Lando looks at you with a markedly less severe, but still concerned, expression.

“I’m fine, Oscar,” you insist.

You’re not. He knows you’re not. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want to seem weak. Not barely thirty minutes before the race. You can’t have either of them thinking you’d be easy for an overtake or that you’ll back out of a fight first. Off the track, fine— you’ve been vulnerable and honest with both of them at times. On the track is a different story. This is Formula One. You’re not here to make friends. They are not here to make friends.

“Mm,” Oscar hums, “Pretty sure you’re not.”

“You’re sweating bullets,” Lando adds, “Can see it from here.”

Something white-hot and pissed off flares up your spine. Oscar is not this kind of person, even on track; but the suspicion that he’s just trying to eliminate you as competition rises anyway. You think it because if the situation were flipped, you’d be weighing the pros and cons of having a sick driver on the track. Their weaknesses, what it means if they’re distracted. It doesn’t make you a good person, but you’re already pretty sure you aren’t one.

“I am fine,” you bite.

Oscar’s expression drops. Into something not quite offended… accepting, maybe? Resigned? It closes off to you, is what you mean. That’s fine, you’re trying to close yourself off to him. You’re re-drawing a line that you’ve been crossing without a thought for at least two years now. You’re not here to make googly eyes at Oscar and let him put his hand on your fever-ridden forehead and have him reprimand out-of-line, so-called professionals for you. You’re here to get in that car every Sunday and put your life on the line for a shiny trophy and fucking glory. Even if you’ve got a fever. Even if you’ve got a weird crush on Oscar Piastri.

“I’m racing,” you add in a different tone, feeling as if you’ve been a bit harsh on a well-meaning Oscar, even if you mean what you’re thinking.

Oscar nods, and says, “Okay,” in a way that really means, ‘If you say so, then it is’.

In the car, on the tarmac, sitting in your starting grid position, you’re shitting bricks.

Your cheeks are squeezed tight into your helmet, you can feel sweat, slick and soaking through your balaclava. Your arms hurt, your legs hurt, your ass hurts where it’s pressed into the seat. You’re not crying, but your mouth— hidden away by your helmet— is open like you’re about to. Set into a grimace that you breathe raggedly out of. Toto says something over the radio before the lights go out, you don’t hear it. You’re too busy regretting how earnestly you’d begged him to let you race. It would have been better if George had taken over. It might have been better if you’d passed out during the national anthem so you really had no choice but to sit it out. No one could say you weren’t committed to this sport if that had happened. They’d have plenty to say about women and their weak constitutions though.

You’re on autopilot when the lights go out. One second you’re freaking out like it’s your first time in a car, the next second everything is fading into background noise and you’re fighting a Ferrari and a McLaren for your original grid position. Twenty of you tear down the straight to turn two and you find yourself slotting easily into what you think is P4. Ferrari— not the same one— in front of you. Your mirrors reveal the McLaren behind you. It’s Oscar, you’re sure. You can tell by the way he sticks to your ass. Every nudge of the car you make he makes with you.

You press the radio button, “That Piastri behind?”

Crackle, “Yeah.”

“Knew it. He’s up my butt, Rach.”

“Okay. Go faster then. Not sure what to tell you.”

You make a face. You weren’t looking for sarky advice, you were trying to commiserate. You press the button and make a vaguely mocking neh-neh noise that gets a laugh and then radio silence because you’re supposed to be fucking concentrating. Which, okay, fair.

You press the throttle, done with trying to manage your tyres for the moment and taking Rachel’s comment as permission. You tear away from Oscar, stopping his fight to overtake you through the chicane in its tracks. You start slowly gaining on the Ferrari in front of you, its red rear wing growing closer and closer.

“Sainz in front?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup,” Rachel confirms before rattling off some lap times when you ask for them.

By lap thirty-something, you’re on Sainz’s ass like Oscar was on yours. You’re fighting him through every chicane, threatening him on the straights and generally behaving in a way that you know for a fact is putting him on edge. But Carlos isn’t giving up P3 without a fight.

A safety car goes out around lap forty, and you pit. Everyone ahead of you does as well. Oscar doesn’t, Oscar is lucky to have gone in earlier. Rachel tells you he’d made up four places after being forced to box for some tyre issue. You feel a strange mix of pride and jealousy swirl in your chest as you all file into a discordant line behind the safety car.

Verstappen leads the pack, as per usual. Then Oscar, Sainz and you. Leclerc is behind you, then Lando. You’re in P4, right where you started and right where you’ve been fucking sitting the entire race so far. twenty-five laps to at least make it onto the podium. Then you’ll be happy. Or not quite happy, you’d need pole for that. Content. You’d be content.

Max starts weaving. The safety car goes off and Max keeps you all ready and waiting until the exact millisecond that he decides the race can properly begin again. You hate when he does this— you know that’s exactly why. Eventually, finally, he gets going.

You have to run defence like crazy for a few laps to keep Leclerc behind you until everything is warmed up. The gap widens as you drive. At some point, you stop worrying about the Monégasque so much and focus your attention on car fifty-five like your life depends on it. The laps fly by as time ticks on. Twenty-five to go, twenty, fifteen, ten. You’re back on Sainz’s rear wheel, a gap of 0.2 to 0.3 that’s been consistent throughout this last stretch of the race. You’re watching him like a hawk, waiting for the smallest slip-up to take advantage of. Somewhere you can push, somewhere he’s weak. It’s hard— he’s covering all his bases. Not giving you an inch so you can’t take a mile.

You’re closing in on sixty-four laps— with only three to go— when he gives you that fucking inch. It’s in the first chicane. His wheel locks up, and he jerks the car slightly the wrong way, something like that. You get in his space and you push and he backs out first. You press down on the throttle and rocket past him, shouting FUCK! FUCK YES! to yourself.

P3. P3. God, you hope it’s P3.

You press the talk button, “Rach?”

“Yes, P3,” she barks, “Fucking, focus. Three laps to go.”

Those last three laps of Imola are some of the hardest of your life. Defending against Carlos is a task, of course, but it’s not even that. The sickness starts to creep back into your awareness as the adrenaline that had hit its peak during the overtake starts to subside. Two laps to go and you’re remembering the fever again. The sweat soaking your hair and streaking down the back of your neck. Your whole body is on fire and it aches everywhere. It feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to the inside of your skull. You want so badly to close your eyes and drift away to sleep, but the car is flying through the air demanding your attention with the way it thuds against the track. You’ve got one lap to go and Carlos is on you like white on rice. You can’t afford to make a mistake until you’re firmly over that finish line.

So you don’t. You grit your teeth and you refuse.

Carlos is downright reckless in the last chicane, he tries to bait you by moving to one side and pushing but you’re not going to fall for something like that even if you’re near delirious from the 39.4-degree fever. Though surely it’s higher now, the car temp can’t be helping. You hardly realise you’ve crossed the finish line because you’re thinking so hard about how lightheaded you feel. On instinct, you slow down to a safe speed as Oscar’s McLaren enters your vision, but you think your toes have pins and needles and there’s some feeling tingling up into your shoulders. You blink hard and take a long sip of water so you can make it to the pits before your head starts to spin.

Crackle, “Where are you going? That was P3.”

“Huh?” you realise you’re following the other drivers instead of heading into the pits where you’re supposed to go, “Shit. Sorry.”

You edge back as carefully as you can, avoiding other cars that pass by, lucky you’ve not overshot too far so you can turn into the pits and park your car in front of the P3 sign without going around the entire track. That would be embarrassing. Or that would be more embarrassing than how disgusting you’re going to look when you take your helmet and balaclava off.

Toto, Rachel and a few of your engineers are there to meet you at the barricade when you clamber out of the car, unsteady on your feet. Rachel’s eyebrows are furrowed as she tries her best to smile at you, trying to put on a brave face even though you can tell she’s concerned you’re going to keel over. You brace yourself with a hand against the gate and tear your helmet off, then your balaclava. You’ve never been so fast to put a cap on your head, trying to cover the sweaty mess that is your hair right now.

“That was phenomenal work,” Rachel says, reaching to put a hand on your burning hot bicep, “You look fucking terrible, though.”

You suck in a ragged breath and you nod in agreement, trying to keep the black tinging your vision from taking over completely. 

“Get her something to drink,” you hear Toto bark, though it comes to your ears, muffled and staticky.

You’re fine. You’re fine. Until you’re not and your sweaty hand is slipping against the guardrail and your vision is fading into darkness and you’re falling face first into a metal railing. And, and, someone’s got their arm around your middle and you’re not on the ground with your face in the asphalt. You blink, hot tears— from what you assume is exhaustion— burning your eyelids. The arm around your middle is covered in something orange and black… Oscar. It’s Oscar who’s got you propped up, held firm into his body so your legs don’t collapse underneath you. The two of you sway and stumble for a second as you gain your footing back, your vision returning to normal, the buzzing in your ears going away.

“You’re good,” he breathes, “I’ve got you.”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine, you attribute it to your current state.

You remember the cameras that are on all of you right now. You try not to look panicked as you step away from him. You try to do it calmly and not frantically like you so want to. Toto has some electrolyte drink held out right in your face and you take it, chugging half of it straight away while you swivel around to face Oscar. You nod, feeling slightly better, but gripping the guardrail tight so as not to repeat earlier.

“Thanks,” you try a smile, but it’s just turning into a grimace because you feel like shit.

Oscar shakes his head, “Don’t mention it.”

“Great driving out there.”

His eyebrow goes up, touching the curl of his hair that peeks out from his cap.

“You’re kidding?” he says, tone laced with amusement.

You frown, which is much easier, “No. You drove great.”

He makes a face like ‘yes, obviously’, but somehow does it in a humble and endearing way that you find you like a little too much. It leaves you confused as to his point.

“No,” he scoffs, “Okay, yes. What I mean is that you just got P3 with a raging fever.”

You purse your lips, countering, “You don’t know I have a fever.”

His tongue darts out to wet his top lip, hiding the small smile that threatens on his face.

He shrugs, “Bit obvious, unfortunately.”

You roll your eyes. You think what he means is it’s a bit obvious because you look like absolute death. There’s probably sweat rolling off you in buckets, your cap is jammed on your head and your hair is probably sticking out at crazy angles. There were dark circles under your eyes before you left for the track this morning, they’re probably ten times worse now. He might also mean it’s obvious from the way your skin is burning hot, like touching a radiator in the middle of winter. Or, perhaps, the way you’d passed out into his arms a few minutes earlier.

You suck your teeth, “Well. I told you I was racing today.”

Oscar nods, biting the inside of his lip, “Yeah. You did.”

There’s more that neither of you are saying. A conversation that you’re trying desperately to have with prolonged eye contact, small little smiles and breaths out through the nose. You think it might be ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘You’re very impressive and I’m going a little bit crazy about it’. That’s how you feel at least, somewhere in between the fever chills and the urge you’re suppressing to curl into a ball on the tarmac. This is okay, you think. You don’t have to be Oscar’s sworn enemy just because you’re both chasing the win. You can let him worry about you, but make sure he understands he can’t stop you from taking the things that you want. You can say things that mean other things and Oscar can smile at you like it’s something private for just the two of you.

You can be happy with that. Or not quite happy. Content.

🏎️ song inspo (fiona apple my Beloved) -> https://open.spotify.com/track/5h9Iek7Hp9wayRt7fBp7Ab?si=9PnuH5CDSC-qTurLPGiTwg

💫 fill out this form if you want to be added to my tag list: @clowngirlsstuff @leclercsluvs @c-losur3 @mael1pastry @papayamusha @mvk1ma

[bunni-v1]

Can I please request a reader that has been so traumatised by what’s happened in the Scarabia book that they actively avoid the entire dorm and have Ace and Deuce as their guard dogs (I love those two and I really love how you wrote them as the readers protective besties during the Malleus break up fic). Like how would Kalim, Jamil and Adeuce react to that?

I find it really cathartic when I read fics that have the characters feeling guilty after what they put the reader through whilst the reader is getting support from their friends.

(Something I’m really salty about in twst is how no one ever holds the overblots accountable for what they’ve done. I full on agreed with Ace when he told Riddle that crying wasn’t going to erase all that he did before the overblot and I literally fell in love with him when he punched Riddle after he insulted us/Yuu/the player. I understand that those boys are traumatised and are in desperate need of therapy and overblotting was the only way for their problems to be solved but the treatment they inflicted on Yuu/us was downright hellish. Azul made us homeless and tore us away from the only family/comfort we had in twst (the ghosts) and then sent the tweels to terrorise us in our attempts to reclaim said home and free our friends from servitude; Jamil kidnapped us, hypnotised us, locked us up in a room against our will, isolated us from Adeuce and took away any contact we had with them, forced us on long marches in the dessert and turned a blind eye to our clear suffering during that time; Vil acted like a literal demon to not only us (and then almost made my Deucey cry) but everyone else as well and that was before he decided to try to murder an innocent teenager. Like why does no one understand just how much this can damage an actual child who has no magic and has been stripped from their home and family?)

Reader Terrified of Scarabia After Jamil’s Overblot

TW: PTSD; Mental Breakdown; Disassociation; Mentions of Abuse; Kalim and Jamil are tragic

Info: Ace, Deuce x Reader (platonic or romantic); Kalim, Grim x Reader (platonic); Jamil and Reader (neutral)

🍓I love requests like this tbh. My own OC sorta has her own grapplings with this stuff that I like to touch upon, and I’m excited I get the chance to talk about it here :) THIS IS LONG AS HELL BTW(like this intro here lol). I had a lot of fun writing it :))) I added a cute, shorter little grim part, because our little guy deserves more lovin’ than he gets. I also decided to do a cute little (read: long) intro, and then head cannons since you didn’t specify for either. I hope you enjoy this style, and I’m sorry for the wait <3

You had been through… a lot in your time at Night Raven College. Being thrown into a completely different world would’ve been enough, but it seems that the great seven thought you needed some extra troubles. You weren’t sure how you could’ve encored their wrath, but you were, and you were chugging along despite it all.

First was the attack from the phantom in the mines — something that should’ve been foreshadowing for what was to come. You didn’t even do anything to be in this position. It was Ace Grim and Deuce, but you got dragged into it all because you were “Grim’s keeper.” You managed to befriend Ace and Deuce though, so it wasn’t so bad.

Second was Riddle with his unending temper and strict rules. Despite everything telling you to just stay out of it, your good-natured heart just couldn’t stop you from helping Ace and Deuce. Nearly dying in the process, you managed to help Riddle and made newfound friends in Heartslabyul. 

Third came Leona, the selfish, stuck-up, lazy no-good prince of the Savannah. You knew he was trouble from the start, and you wanted nothing to do with him or his little lackey Ruggie. Then he hurt Trey, and you couldn’t stand by while he reigned terror on the school. He was a favorable ally to gain in the end, so you could dismiss his actions so long as he kept in his lane.

Fourth was Azul, another student you figured would cause you trouble. With the extra scary Jade and Floyd always tailing him, and that too buttery sweet voice of his, you were determined to keep your distance. Again, however, your friends were in trouble and you couldn’t help but help them. Azul was a broken person, and you could sympathize with his struggles. He even gave you a job at the lounge to help with funding yourself, so he couldn’t be all that bad.

You’d come to dislike the other house wardens out of principle. A pattern had emerged among them, and you weren’t going to fall victim to another horrific overblot. You still had suction cup-shaped bruises on your arm from Azul’s breakdown. Leona had given you more than just a nasty burn from the scalding hot whirlwind of sand he conjured up. The scars Riddle left behind on your face and arms were healed, but they still ached when you touched them. All painful reminders that you could not truly trust anyone here, that anyone could lose control of themselves and hurt you. Yet…

When you met Jamil in the kitchen, he seemed so kind to both you and Grim. He seemed so genuine and honest. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe it was you missing your friends, but you wanted to trust him despite your gut feeling to be distrustful. Could everyone here really be that bad? Certainly not. Ace Deuce and Jack went here as well… so surely… surely…

The alarm bells didn’t ring at all during the dinner, and Kalim — despite everything you’ve been through — seemed so nice, if not a little overbearing. You could see the tiredness on Jamil's face, and you had the kindness in your heart to express your sympathies. And oh, Jamil so humbly assured you that he was fine. Filling your head with little half-truths and ideas that Kalim had been overworking not only him but the other students. That he had been acting “off” as of late.

You saw Kalim’s sudden shifts in personality. How he would be so sweet, so kind and soft. How he made sure you were enjoying yourself, made sure you ate to your heart's content, made sure you were comfortable in your uniform and your sleeping quarters. Then he would be yelling at everyone, demanding unspeakable exercises and work.

If Ace were there with you, he would’ve called bullshit. Still, you trusted Jamil to start. You actually believed he was kind and had good intentions. You believed that Kalim was the real evil here.

Then he wouldn’t let you and Grim leave, and the students were suddenly so aggressive toward you. He took everything you had and stripped you of your dignity and pride until there was nothing left but fight.

Truly, you didn’t realize it was him that was the issue until he was over-blotting in front of your eyes. It wasn’t an unusual sight to you at that point, you’d defeated multiple overblots and befriended these people. You don’t know what it was. The way you’d trusted him. The fact that you felt truly alone without Ace and Deuce. This one broke you…

You just didn’t feel a damn thing after he was saved. You felt no pity, no joy, no relief. Absolutely nothing, an empty void in your chest. Even as everyone around you celebrated, there was nothing. You stood watching everyone parade around with glee blankly, unable to speak to anyone around you. Just listening to the voices that had begun to mesh together.

You didn’t show anything until Ace and Deuce showed up. Something about their faces, the way they were looking over you, the way they seemed so scared for your wellbeing… it made you cry. It made you cry and cry and cry until you couldn’t make any noise and then you cried some more. They had to drag you away from everyone because you just couldn’t quite stand upright when Deuce would try to get you to walk away with him…

The days after were blurry. You remained holed up in your dorm, unable to really move from your bed. Ace and Deuce stayed in their own separate room next to yours. You could hear them talking through the walls about how worried they were about you, how angry they were at Jamil, how angry they were at themselves for not getting there in time to help you. If you’d had the energy, you would’ve scolded them for being so hard on themselves, but you could hardly speak in the first place.

They cared for you as best as they could. Deuce attempted to cook the recipes Trey sent him over magicam, making sure you ate and stayed hydrated. Occasionally you’d hear Azul downstairs, and Deuce would give you something nice from the Monstrolounge — free of charge, he promised. You could tell that he wasn’t sleeping much in his worry over you. 

Grim remained at your side as loyal as a dog and boasting that he’d keep you safe, but you knew he was scared too. He proclaimed that he would keep you safe, but you could feel him trembling at every sudden noise. You had to comfort him from the horrific nightmares he was having. That was okay, though, he was family and you were his.

Ace was the only one who really kicked your ass into gear. He’d tug you out of bed and into the shower as people began to return from winter break. Made you go on walks around campus to show you that you were completely safe. Eventually, he’d been able to get you to visit Azul to thank him directly for his kindness. He wasn’t soft or gentle with you, that wasn’t in his character at all, but he made sure you felt safe enough to return to classes before they started.

They both worked hard to help you recover, but you were still so afraid…

Ace

-Ace isn’t exactly the most comforting person, and he never claimed to be. 

-He’s not good at reassuring people, but he’s good at being honest, and if he was being honest he knew that you were safe around him and Deuce.

-He walks you to and from classes, spends most of his nights in your dorm doing whatever the hell you’d like him to do without complaint, distracts you when you’re freaking out, and most importantly keeps that snake as far away from you as possible.

-If he was being honest with himself, which was his whole thing, he didn’t really get your reaction to everything. 

-You’ve all been through this before, it's textbook at this point. A guy does some shady shit, a guy gets caught doing said shady shit, a guy overblots, and you defeat a guy with the power of friendship. Boom. Done.

-He’d get it more if you were completely alone, but grim and the octanivelle freaks were there! Kalim too, and he’s always seemed pretty nice. Not the best company, sure, but still you had people helping you out.

-When he looks at your face and sees how tired you are, he forgets the logical stuff. All he can hear are those horrific sobs you let out when you saw him and how you nearly ripped his uniform in half with how tightly you were holding him and Deuce.

-If that was too much for him, he can’t imagine how badly it must’ve felt for you. How bad it must still feel.

-So screw what he thinks, he’s gotta make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

-He doesn’t ask you how you’re feeling, he knows it's not good. He focuses on keeping your mind off of everything that might trigger you.

-Reroutes your paths to classes to avoid Jamil and Kalim completely. Sure it’s longer and more annoying, but it's better than you going dead silent and shutting him and everyone else out again.

-He does everything in his power and you’re doing so well… and then the VDC happens. 

-You’re given the title of manager and you’re forced to be around these people who terrify you. 

-Vil won’t budge on anything and sevens Ace wishes Rook would let him try out a little target practice with the (illegal) bow and arrows he’s got in his room.

-He keeps himself between you and Jamil at all costs. He won’t let Jamil bother you at all, not that he was trying in the first place.

-The real issue is Kalim, which sounds crazy, but it’s true.

-Kalim is so… forceful. A pretty strong word, but honestly the only one Ace can think to use.

-He’s really nice, really sweet, seriously such a good guy… but you’re still unsettled by him.

-There are several times during practices that Ace has to yell at him to just leave you alone.

-Sure, it gets him a pretty big scolding from Vil, but he couldn’t care less honestly. He doesn’t wanna risk you having a panic attack because Vil doesn’t wanna be a responsible leader.

-You confide in Ace a lot. How you really want to move past all this, but Crowley won’t provide you with any form of therapy, and you’re just not ready to forgive Jamil or Kalim for what happened.

-He won’t tell you this, but hearing you talk like this breaks his heart.

-You’re normally so strong, so brave, so confident… and now you’re absolutely broken.

-He’s proud of you for putting on a brave face to placate Vil, but he’s angry you have to.

-Surprisingly, though, you do begin to warm up to Kalim. Just a little. 

-It's only when Ace, Deuce, or Grim is around, but it's a really big step forward in his eyes.

-You’re getting back to where you used to be little by little.

-He still won’t give you or Jamil the chance to reconcile, but you honestly couldn’t be more grateful for that.

Deuce

-Deuce is incredibly different from Ace in how he handles everything.

-He’s a delinquent, sure, but he’s a Mama’s boy at heart. Therefore, he’s much more equipped to help you emotionally through all this than Ace.

-Where Ace is the harsh pushing force to keep you going, Deuce is the calm where you can rest and cry your heart out for as long as you need.

-As I mentioned, he makes sure you’re eating and drinking and at least speaking to someone.

-He asks Trey for recipes without leading on to what’s going on and asks Cater for advice on helping someone feel safe after a traumatic experience.

-It’s not subtle, but it helps.

-He handles making all your meals, even though he isn’t the best cook, he absolutely puts all his heart and soul into everything he makes.

-A good portion of his days are dedicated to cooking for you, and he gets pretty damn good at it by the time classes start up again!

-With Sam’s shop closed, he has to go into town to get the ingredients he needs, and then he has to spend hours preparing and serving the food.

-He watches you eat, encouraging you that everything is safe and that he made it all by himself by hand. 

-He doesn’t question why things ended up this way for you, he wonders how can I help?

-And he does help, a lot, more than just with food.

-Sometimes, late at night, he hears you crying alone in your room. He gets up from his own bed, quietly enters your room, and holds you and grim while you both tremble in fear.

-It makes him so mad. Mad that this happened to you. Mad that Jamil did this in the first place. Mad that he couldn’t help more than he already is. 

-Like Ace, he accompanies you to all your classes and makes sure to stay close to your side if any Scarabia students are around.

-He’ll go anywhere you need him to, and if you’re not comfortable being alone and he’s got plans, you’re invited to join him. No matter what anyone else thinks.

-Things get better little by little. You make strides in your ability to be independent again and you’re smiling and joking around like you used to. You even agreed to try out for the VDC with him and Ace… a big mistake.

-He didn’t expect to actually get in, let alone get in with Jamil and Kalim. If it were just that he could’ve been civil, but no, you had to be dragged in too… because that’s always how it works out.

-He has to hold himself from getting in Jamil’s face more than once because just him looking at you is enough to send you into a clear panic attack.

-Deuce does his best to comfort you between all of this, though. Being your shoulder to cry on and trying his best to be your protector… it's just hard. Hard to see you like that, and hard to keep his cool for your sake.

-It's worse with Kalim because both you and Deuce know he means well. You both know he wants to reconcile, but you’re not quite ready.

-Deuce helps the confrontation with the two feel a bit easier though. He acts as a mediator between you and Kalim, and eventually, he’s proud to say he helped you trust Kalim just a little bit.

-Jamil… both of you could use some work, but Deuce is more willing to hear you out on him than Ace is.

Grim

-Grim was there with you the whole time. He understands the fear you’re feeling deeper than anyone else.

-He could just tell something was wrong the second he saw your face. Despite all the celebrations, he was focused on making sure you were at least a little okay.

-He tried to talk to you, tried to make you feel okay, but the only comfort he could offer you was letting you hold him while you cried.

-He could still hear your cries, and they made him want to cry too. He almost did, but he was your guard cat — he had to be strong for you.

-Unlike Ace and Deuce, he never left your side. Not a second. He was there with you from the moment you were unwittingly kidnapped to the sleepless nights in your dorm to the horror of finding out you’d have to work closely with Jamil for the VDC.

-He made his distaste for him very known, sure to make a snarky comment at least once every time he saw him. 

-It was so bad, at one point, that Vil had to give him a stern talking to. He didn’t stop regardless.

-You are Grim’s best friend, the only family he has, and Jamil hurt you in unspeakable ways. He couldn’t just sit back and be okay with that.

-He’s really such a good guy.

Kalim

-Kalim means well. With his whole heart, he has the best intentions… just not the best execution.

-See, he didn’t notice initially that anything was really wrong the whole time.

-He didn’t suspect Jamil at all. In fact, he thought that you were really enjoying your stay in Scarabia, you seemed so happy and chatty up until Jamil flipped things on their head.

-Call him air-headed, but he was caught up in his own whirlwind of emotions at the time. You know, the whole betrayal of his supposed best friend took a toll on him too.

-It wasn’t until you were sobbing your throat raw that he realized something was really wrong.

-The look of sheer terror on your face when you made eye contact with him sent shivers up his spine.

-He knew that look. He’d worn that look on his own face too many times as a young child.

-Believe it or not, without Jamil’s intervention, he knew to keep his distance. He knew he had to give you time to adjust.

-Then a few days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a little over a month, and he had hardly seen you around campus.

-You are avoiding your normal route to class, and when he did see you he was also greeted by the harsh glares of your good friends.

-He understood if you’d never want to talk to him ever again, honestly. He couldn’t blame you. You were more headstrong than him, after all.

-Still, when the VDC came around… he was hopeful. Truly he was hoping that something would give.

-He would talk to you in hopes of showing you that he meant no harm, but Ace or Deuce or even Grim would shove their way between the two of you.

-Several times Jamil had to tell him to knock it off because “It’s not worth forcing.”

-Still, he wanted you to know he felt bad. He felt horrible.

-In a very un-Kalim-like move, he quietly asks you if you can speak with him. Alone. But in a crowded enough area that you wouldn’t feel threatened.

-He didn’t expect you to accept it, he wouldn’t have blamed you at all. But you said yes. 

-You showed up, with Grim by your side, which was fine. He earned some apologies too.

-He poured his heart out to you, apologizing for things that he couldn’t even control. In turn, he listened to you rant about how scared you were, how angry you were, how you wished you were any of these things.

-And after that, things improved. Slowly, but surely. You became more comfortable around him, and you spoke to him again.

-Sure, you wouldn’t be caught dead at one of Scarabia’s parties, but you considered him a friend. 

-That’s all he could ask for.

Jamil

-Jamil is the monster in your story. 

-He’s the evil guy who kidnapped, manipulated and lied to you.

-He’s the one who used his misplaced anger as an excuse to hurt others.

-He’s the boogyman who made you endure days of long and hard training, just because he could.

-Of course, he felt bad. What he did was unspeakable, but he was more concerned with how his reputation would last after the overblot.

-More concerned with it not getting out for the safety of his family.

-Even with you sobbing, he just thought you were being dramatic in all honesty. You have a reputation already, he knew you’d been through this whole thing before.

-It didn’t really strike him how badly it affected you.

-He didn’t notice how you switched paths, how you were never in the same area as him for long, and the glares of your friends never once phased him.

-Even Ace’s snarky comments during basketball didn’t bother him for a second.

It wasn’t until he accidentally bumped into you in the hallway, and he saw the look on your face that he realized.

-The terror in your eyes, the way you shrunk back as if he would strike you. It was the same way his parents acted around the Asim’s.

-If he were a more insane man, he might’ve found it liberating, but it wasn’t.

-He had become what he hated to you, he had done what he hated to you. 

-Jamil was not only your monster, but he was his own.

-He steers clear of you and keeps as much distance as possible for both your sakes.

-He couldn’t handle someone looking at him like that, and he was sure you couldn’t handle the sight of him after what he did.

-Still, this is NRC, and luck is never on anyone's side here.

-Both of you are forced into a position where you cannot escape the other, you have to learn to live with the awful pits in your stomachs.

-He keeps Kalim away until you both are on good terms, then he simply watches quietly.

-He won’t apologize, he won’t antagonize, he won’t speak unless spoken to.

-You two never truly recover your small lasting friendship, but you do make amends with each other.

-During the trip to the scalding sands, you get to meet Najma, whom he’s confided in about ‘accidentally upsetting a classmate’.

-You get to have a good talk with her, and it makes you really realize some things about Jamil.

-You realize he’s just as broken as you, just as tired as you, and that he feels the most immense amount of guilt for hurting you.

-You, being you, find it in your soul to forgive him.

-Nothing really changes between you. The guilt is still there, and the fear still shakes you to your core, but you both have closure.

-In a situation like this, closure is the best grace a person can ever have.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Jock X F! Bookworm! Reader

Pt. 2 Pt.3

TW: Non-con, dubcon, spankings, mention of isolation, bribery

A/N: I’m excited to write my first smut like this. It was a much needed writing exercise.

Kofi: Wanna buy me a coffee?

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You were always a bookworm. You didn't like talking to other people much, but you value the few friends you have. That was until he came along. The school jock, the lightly tanned skin with sun-kissed hair boy, with six-foot stature. Along with muscles to match his build. He rarely came by you, but that day fate decided to let his eyes shine down on you in your corner of the library.

He grabbed a book about muscle mass and sat next to you in the blue bean bag.

"Have I seen you around anywhere? You look familiar," He asked, looking at you as you focused on your book more. "Not a talker, huh?"

You refused to give this guy the time of day, especially when you didn't want to be a one-time hookup. You close your book and leave the library, not paying attention to the football player behind you. If only you knew how much he wanted you.

Eventually, as the day went on, he would try to talk to you, but to no avail. You simply didn't want to be one of his sexual conquests. Then, the pep rally came for the big game, and that's when your life changed forever. As usual, your bookworm self skipped the pep rally to head out to the library. You didn't like the noise and screams of other students, and you especially didn't like being crowded in a gymnasium during a hot day.

You grabbed a shiny blue book from the middle shelf and settled into the bean bag near a dark and quiet corner. The librarian had already gone home but left the keys under the doormat since she knew you liked to come after hours. Although, it was a pain having to lock up before going home.

The last bell rang, but unfortunately, you couldn't hear it due to falling asleep from reading Caraval. But that wasn't unusual for you. You'd just wake up and walk out of the library minutes to hours later. Unfortunately, your absence at the pep rally had caused the final straw to break in this poor jock's mind. He had been trying to get your attention for days. Flowers in the locker you hardly visit, notes that ended up in the trash, and even $500 cash in your backpack. Nothing got your attention. You were always more interested in your damn books than him. But when you were nowhere to be seen during the pep rally, something broke inside of him. You obviously needed help noticing him, and he knew just how to fix it. He knew how you’re a virgin but still had the urge to touch yourself until orgasm. He was going to give you better than that. He was going to fuck your brains out. He was going to give the best fucking of your life. He was going to be oh so soft and gentle as he took your virginity away. That is if his testosterone-fueled rage didn’t make him overdue it.

He walked into the library and found your sleepy figure about to leave. Everyone had gone home, and the sun was starting to set. No one was going to help or catch you with him.

Like a predator in the dark, he made his move and slammed you into the brick wall, slightly tilting your glasses. He held both your hands above your head with one hand and used the other to grab your face.

“You’re going to pay attention to me. Not your books, not your phone, just me. Me!” He growled, his body twitching with rage. “Do you know how long I’ve tried to gain your attention? Your affection? Only for you to ignore me or brush me to the side!”

“I’m sorry! I truly didn’t mean to ignore you! I just thought you were messing with me!” You cried, tears streaming down your face as your glasses fogged up.

“Oh, but you did! You ignored me earlier today in this very library! You’ve ignored me whenever I tried to talk to you! Fuck! All those other girls I’ve let taint my body were for you! All for you! Your affection! Now it’s time I showed you how I feel since you won’t notice me without help!” He barks out, slamming his lips on yours.

His tongue didn’t even fight for dominance just took over your mouth. Occasionally, he’d wrap his tongue around yours, but his tongue was mainly greedy.

“Screw these! You don’t need them for this!” He growled, throwing your glasses off. “Perfect.”

Your hair was a mess, and drool trailed down your chin. His eyes began to stare at the baggy plain shirt covering your pretty ass. He roughly flipped you onto your stomach and lifted your ass up by the leggings. Despite your ass being small, it was still a cute bubbly round that he could pound into euphoria. He didn’t care you didn’t have a standard beauty body. That just meant more people would stay away from you. It was less work and bribing for him.

“Your choice, spankings, oral, or fingering? Though if we do fingering, we’re going straight to sex afterward,” He asks, slowly rubbing your ass.

“Spankings,” You answered immediately, wanting to stall him for as long as possible.

“Haha, I see you like my hands on your ass. Very well, I’ll spank you, but I’ll sneak in some kisses to ease the pain,” He said, slowly peeling your leggings to your knees.

His massive hands began to spank your ass roughly, occasionally slapping your sex to get more juices to spread around on your ass. It was only the beginning of the pleasure. You didn’t want to feel so good from him spanking you, but you were finding it hard to hold back your moans. He delivered the final slap to your ass, then dove straight into your ass to kiss your clothed pussy.

“I’m so glad you wore such thin lace panties today,” He moaned, beginning to kiss your sex more. “I don’t mind that you’re a jungle down there. It only means that everything will stay longer.”

You didn’t pay attention to a word he said as the pleasure from his praise was beginning to get to your head. Your eyes began to get unfocused, and eventually, you came in your underwear as his kisses quickened.

“Ah!” You moaned, realizing your mistake. He began to feast on the delicious cum served. “Agh! Ha! Fuck! Don’t slurp on it while you’re near me like that!”

He finished the last of your cum and peeled off your underwear. He gently flipped you onto your back and took your baggy shirt off, revealing a beautiful chest. He smiled and kissed your chest until he met your bra.

“You’ve got to show that rack more, darling. It suits you. I’ll buy you a matching set in your favorite color. Of course, I’ll only be able to see it, though,” He proposed, taking off the bra with one hand.

Your arms immediately went to your chest, but he stopped you from covering them up by gently rubbing a nipple.

“Sh, sh, sh, it’s ok, dear. Your chest size doesn’t bother me. It’s beautiful,” He cooed, kissing each breast. “Let me worship your body. You need to learn how much of a goddess you are.”

You nodded yes, but everything about it seemed wrong. But the kind words, the way he complimented you, made you feel loved. It made you feel the way those boys in the novels did. He had done all this work for you. Maybe you should give him a chance.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle. You’ll only feel a bit of discomfort,” He said, lining his member up with your vaginal opening. His member matched his height and proudly displayed its six inches.

You wanted to look at him, but you couldn’t. Not only had he thrown your glasses across the room, but you couldn’t look him in the face. It felt so humiliating being in this position in your sacred space.

“It’s your glasses, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thrown them. I know how protective you are of them since your last pair got broken by that reckless freshman playing football. Here, I’ll get them for you.” He got up and grabbed the glasses from the floor. He gently placed them on your face, letting you see the adorable face full of love and concern. “Is that better, beautiful?”

“Yeah, it is better. Thank you,” You said, earning a soft and gentle kiss.

He returned to his original position and gently wrapped your legs around his waist. He stuck the tip in and waited for your approval to move further.

“You can move more. I’ll be ok,” You said, trying not to let tears out.

“I’ll be slow,” He put his whole length in and waited for you to adjust.

Your legs tighten around his waist, and he begins to thrust in and out of you. Each thrust released a wave of pleasure, pleas, and moans. Both fed off each other’s arousal and pleasure, until the poor jock got pushed over the edge. He lifted your legs as far back as they could and straddled you, beginning his rapid-fire thrusts. Your genital hairs tangled with his causing more friction and tension with each thrust. Your moans for him and his moans for you echoed through the empty library.

“Hah, oh fuck! I’m cumming!”

“I know, darling! So am I!”

He put both hands on your cheeks and looked at you as his climax approached.

“Let’s cum together!”

He thrust one last time, and you both came. Although he came inside of you, you couldn’t care less. You were his now. Besides, you were taking the pill, and you were always perfect with following the schedule for it.

“I love you, darling, more than you realize.”

You couldn’t help but lay on the floor, naked, next to him and say, “I love you too.”

[discotitsposts]

strawberry lipgloss part two- the date 🍓

sorry this took so long! since my birthday is soon, i’ll prob post this on my birthday, this is reader going on a date with spencer but he doesn’t know it’s her birthday because she didn’t tell him.

read part one here!

update posting this on my birthday whoo!!!

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Spencer waits nervously at the restaurant for you, he’d chosen your favorite Italian place, it was close to your apartment and was familiar to you.

He didn’t want to overwhelm you with a restaurant you’d never been to and where you wouldn’t know the menu.

He checks his watch again, you’re not late yet, but time was cutting close and he’s starting to get worried.

Spencer’s mind races with maybes.

Maybe she didn’t actually want to and is going to cancel last minute. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she-

He looks up and sees you speaking with the hostess, she leads you to the table and Spencer stands up in awe of the way you’ve dressed.

A beautiful purple dress with strawberries on it, the strawberry scent just as strong, your hair done beautifully and you’re even wearing a small tiara in your hair.

Your lips, Spencer notices, are slick with lipgloss, strawberry lipgloss.

“You look absolutely radiant.” Spencer manages to say finally after staring for a while. You lean in and hug him tight.

“I’m so glad to be here with you Spencer.” You say sweetly, and smile. Your smile. You smiled at him like no one else mattered in the world except you and him.

“I’m glad too.” He says without really thinking. You had that effect on him.

“I love the tiara.” He smiles at the sparkly object in your beautiful hair.

“Thank you, it was a birthday gift for myself.”

Spencer freezes. Birthday? How could he have forgotten? Spencer never forgot anything. Then he realized. You’d never told anyone on the team your birthday.

“I..uh I didn’t know you had a birthday coming up.” He says nervously.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t really tell anyone because I didn’t feel like doing much. It’s actually today.”

Spencer’s eyes widen. Today? Your birthday is today?!

“Oh I’m so sorry I..Happy Birthday! I just so happened to get you a present without knowing.” He smiles and reaches for the gift he’d gotten you.

“Oh Spencer that’s so sweet you didn’t have to get me anything, except, I kind of got you something too.” You laugh and reach for a box too.

“You got me something?” Spencer laughs in disbelief.

You exchange the gifts and you open yours. Spencer had gotten you a perfume. Not just any perfume, a perfume in a strawberry shaped bottle. You gasp at how adorable it is.

“It’s strawberry scented too.” Spencer adds blushing as red as the strawberry shaped bottle.

You sniff the perfume sample included with the box.

“Oh Spencer I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you!” You beam at him and gesture him to open his gift.

He carefully unravels the ribbon, in the small box is a bookmark, with a quote by Nikola Tesla.

It reads: ‘The scientists of today think deeply instead of clearly. One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane.’

Spencer laughs heartily. The quote was deeply relatable and one of his favorites. Then he notices, there is a strawberry charm, an amethyst crystal charm, a book charm, and a microscope charm on the tassel of the bookmark.

“This is amazing. I love it. Where did you get such a gem?” Spencer smiles.

“I know you probably don’t need bookmarks because you probably just remember the page number but bookmarks are so cute and fun I had to. Also I didn’t buy it, I made it.” You blush a little. Proud he’d liked the gift you’d spent so much time on.

You both set your gifts down and stare at each other.

“You made this?” Spencer asks, clearly impressed. You nod and he stands up and hugs you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispers in your ear.

“Thank you.” You whisper back. “I really love it, i’ve never owned strawberry perfume before.”

“Happy Birthday.” He says softly and then kisses the top of your head.

“Thank you!”

A waiter comes over and takes your orders. You order a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs to share.

“The portions are huge! It’s a big plate of spaghetti and they add this sauce that is absolutely divine and the meatballs are perfect.” You gush over the spaghetti this restaurant serves while Spencer smiles in adoration.

He decides to be bold and reaches across the table nervously and takes your hand in his. You smile at the gesture and your plate comes out.

Spencer’s eyes go wide at the amount of spaghetti. You give him a look that says ‘I told you so’ and a smirk.

You guys eat and talk and laugh for the longest time. Spencer found you so easy to talk to and didn’t feel annoying for rambling in the slightest. When he rambled, you sat there and listened intently.

When you get to the end of the spaghetti you realize this is just like ‘Lady and the Tramp’ because Spencer rolls the last meatball onto your side of the plate for you to have.

You eat it and move to some of the last of the spaghetti and then you both realize the last of the spaghetti is just one long strand and your lips move closer and closer.

Both your lips meet in the middle of the noodle and you kiss. Spencer’s eyes widen and he bites the noodle so you can eat the last of it.

You laugh at the silly moment and Spencer chuckles.

“Tastes like strawberries.” Spencer comments making you laugh again. He loves making you laugh.

You hold up the strawberry lipgloss from before and are about to reapply when Spencer clears his throat.

“Let me, please?” He asks and you smile and nod to give the okay.

Spencer squeezes the tube until enough product comes up and yet again rubs it on your lips until they’re shiny and covered in the sweet scent. He twists the cap back on and hands it back to you.

“Luscious, aren’t they?” You ask pouting your lips and posing. Spencer nods in awe of the beauty glowing from within you.

“This is the best date I’ve ever been on.” You tell him.

“Me too. Usually they’ve ran out the door by now.” Spencer jokes, something he found easy with you.

You laugh, “Who would ever run from you Spencer? You’re amazing.”

Spencer blushes and holds your hand and you leave the restaurant together and you squeeze his hand lovingly.

When he walks you to your apartment and reaches the door he waits for you to unlock it.

You two stand in the doorway and Spencer gets close to you and whispers, “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

You nod in agreeance and lean in closer until your lips meet again. When you finally pull away you decide to make a joke.

“That was better without a spaghetti noodle in between us.”

Spencer cracks up, “Hey don’t knock the spaghetti kiss, it was romantic, and at least we got to eat it. Hey,” He stares at your lips. “I think you need more lipgloss now.”

“What’s the point? It’s gonna get messed up again anyway.” You smirk and lead him to the couch. Spencer smiles.

Nothing could ever top the way you make him feel. Loved.

the end 💘

tags- 🍓

if you’d like to be tagged in all future works you can comment a 🍓

@whoisspence @starshinegarcia @fictionalobssed @exoticisles @in-another-april @gallifreyan-idiocracy

people who wanted to be tagged in part two 🍓

@exhaleli @moonysreid @reidsatellite @fandoms-allovertheplace @kissesforspence @shibugs @khxna

idk why it wouldn’t tag some people. but thank you to anyone who liked part one enough to ask for part two i appreciate it sm😭💘

we are all strawberries.

watching ldsk in season one right now lmao

also face reveal this is me:

[astermath]

sweet like you🍓

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen stumbles across a local farmer’s market on accident and discovers a family run strawberry stand. he discovers that not only the strawberries are delicious and sweet, but so is the girl selling them to him.

word count: 2.1K

notes: yk what’s really funny,, i never realised so far a lot of my fics involve the color red. perhaps it’s becoming my new favorite color and I love to make it obvious dsgdfsj,, anyways first time writing for carmen, been obsessed w him since the bear came out. i’m a whore for jeremy allen white in case you haven’t noticed. anyways this will def get a part two!!

P.S. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, requests are open!

Saturday was farmer’s market day.

Every Saturday morning, dozens of independent businesses, farmers and food stands would come together at Lincoln Park to sell their wares. It made for a colorful and interesting blend of smells, sounds and sights, and for most, a great way to start off their weekend.

And Carmen was no exception to this. He’d first stumbled upon it by accident on his way to the Beef. Taking a wrong turn because of his still waking morning head resulted in him walking through the park and, unavoidably, being distracted by what vendors there were. A chef at heart, he couldn’t help but look around the wide array of fresh ingredients available for purchase. He’d taken out his notebook and started writing down business names as he tried a sample every now and then. 

He held a bag of fresh paprikas in one hand, making his way down the line before he came across a peculiar and seemingly very busy stand. The fresh, sweet scent of strawberries allured him, stepping closer to take a look at what they had to offer. And it was exactly that, just strawberries. It appeared to be a family business, your mother and father packing orders, and you at the front taking them and accepting payments. For a second he just kind of stood there, bag in hand, staring at you. There was no way you were from here, Chicago doesn’t let a smile like that survive very long. Or maybe that was just his cynical mind doing its usual thing.

He snapped out of it when you glanced his way, looking to the side. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, embarrassed that just looking at a pretty girl got such a reaction from him. He’s a collected person, he should be acting like one. He took a deep breath and got in line. Lord knows what he’d be using strawberries for, he’d figure something out, might as well just eat them as a snack while the season allowed it.

“Hi! How many?” Your voice was sweet and chipper, something he couldn’t even think of being after taking orders all morning. Somehow, you kept it up.

“Oh, uh...” He looked at your display, before remembering that all you sold were strawberries, so browsing just made him look even more stupid. “How many... Strawberries?”

“Boxes. They’re 500 grams, 5 bucks each. So how many?” Your smile remained the same, though you were slightly amused by his confusion. 

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He could have sank into the ground right then and there. Of course you meant boxes, who in their right mind is buying individual strawberries? “Uh... Just one box is fine, please.” He reached for his wallet while you took over a box from your mom.

“Great! That’ll be 5 dollars please.” You took the slightly crumpled bill from his hand, storing it in the tin box in front of you and quickly writing down something on a paper. Seemed like you still did everything by hand, he couldn’t imagine what a mess it would be if he had to do that at the restaurant.

“Here you go, have a great day!” The box you gave him was neatly wrapped in brown paper, with a sticker serving as a business card on top. 

“Uh...” He stared at the sticker, reading over it before looking back up at you.

Ask for her name.

“Yeah...”

Her name.

“You too.” 

You idiot.

He picked up the box and walked away, walking a little faster than usual. He was never good at talking to people, but god, that was just embarrassing. He opened up the packaging, and took out a perfectly plump strawberry. He took a bite, humming as the juicy sweetness washed over his tastebuds.

Lunch rush had just ended, and Carmen was sat outside the back of the restaurant with Richie, smoking as per usual. Except now, a small cardboard box sat between them. It was almost empty as the two of them snacked on the fruit between puffs of their cigarettes. 

“Ya know, I read somewhere on Facebook that these are supposed to help with uh... Cancer or something.” Richie said, throwing the green leafy part back into the box. 

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, cousin.” Carmy smiled to himself, back leaned against the wall as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, why’s that huh? Cause I can’t read shit online anymore without having to do an hour of research behind it?” Richie furrowed his brows, blowing smoke out his nose.

“No, stupid,” Carmen put the cigarette out on the concrete. “Cause you’re fuckin’ smoking, man. The fuck is a strawberry gonna do against that.”

“Yeah, well... I try to stay positive, you should fucking try it sometime, ya depressed asshole.” He grabbed another strawberry. “Where d’you get these from anyways? Shit’s pretty good.”

The image of you working at the stand flashed through his mind. “Passed by some random farmer’s market this morning. Might stop by there again, got a ton of fresh produce there for not much money.”

“Speakin’ of produce.” Richie used his thumb to point back over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Place’s out of onions. Your magical farmer’s market got those? Cause we need more by the dinner shift.”

Carmen groaned, wanting to curse at Richie for not letting him know earlier. But honestly, if it gave him a chance to go back, get more delicious strawberries and possibly redeem his awkward first impression to the pretty girl there... It might not be a bad idea. He checked the time on his watch, early afternoon, you’d probably be wrapping up right now. If he was fast, he could totally still make it. “Fine, but I’m taking your car.”

“Don’t crash it.” Richie said as he got up, ready to get back inside.

“You’re the one with a suspended license.” He joked, catching the keys Richie threw at him that were totally not aimed at his head.

“Fuck you cousin.”

Parking was a bitch, as always, but Carmen had managed to find a stall selling onions for about half of what he usually got them for. He was starting to like this market, not just for the prices, but because these were all people who worked hard and loved their products. A lot of work goes into putting something out there to sell, he would know. 

He realized he might be pushing his luck if he still wanted to see you, but he decided to take the chance nonetheless and walk down the lineup. It seemed to be his lucky day, as he caught sight of your parents loading up mostly empty boxes back in the car. You were working on breaking down the stand, doing so with relative ease. You were currently folding up the tables, kneeled down onto the ground. 

Again, he stared. Honestly, how could he not? It wasn’t every day he saw someone so beautiful, and with a sweet personality to match. Granted his only interaction with you had been brief, but still, he got a good vibe from you, and he was usually so distrustful.

You looked up, and by pure coincidence, your eyes met. His eyes were so intense, hues of blue that anyone would recognize, even from a mile away. You certainly recognized them from this morning at least. Your face brightened with the same smile he saw you had before, and for a second he wondered if it was just a customer service thing. 

“Hi! Hope you enjoyed your strawberries!” You got up, holding the folded table under your arm. 

“Sure did.” He put on a bit of an awkward smile. God, why was he doing this... What was he even supposed to say?

Your eyes squinted slightly when you read the words on his shirt. “Nice shirt... Oh, wait, you work at the Beef?”

His body tenses up a little when you mention the restaurant. Given its... Peculiar reputation, that question could be followed up by any kind of statement. “Yeah, yeah, I uh... I kinda run it now.” He decided not to mention Mikey. Seemed a bit overkill to mention your dead brother to someone whose name you don’t even know.

“Ohhh, that’s you! Yeah, I’ve seen you smoking outside before.” You extend your hand and you both introduce yourselves. “I work at a café just two blocks over. You might have seen it, it’s called Odette’s?” 

Carmy nodded. He knew that place. He also knew the cranky old French lady who owned it. “Ah... Yeah. Menu still the same?”

“As long as Odette is still alive, I doubt she’ll ever let me change anything. ‘Over my dead body, cherie’”. You jokingly imitated her French accent, chuckling to yourself.

Carmen smiled, glad that he’s at least not making a complete fool out of himself now. This was good, he knew this, work and food, those were his safe topics. “Yeah, well... Maybe if she tasted one of these strawberries first, you might convince her.” 

“Huh,” You thought to yourself for a second, imagining your usual grumpy boss overflowing with glee after trying the fruit from your family’s farm. “You know what, I’ve never actually thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it out!” You smile. “You know I’ve been meaning to try and serve some of my pastries there. I’m a huge baking fanatic, but she’s so... Set in her ways. I don’t know if my amateur baking skills could possibly convince her, no matter how tasty the strawberries I use are.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like...” Carmen thought about his crew, and how much they loved their so called ‘system’. Change was good, change meant progress, but it was also scary. On that part, he didn’t blame her boss for refusing to switch things up. “If you want, I could help you out. I’m a full time chef, so... Always willing to taste test.” He hoped his poorly masked excuse to stay in touch came across as friendly, and not pushy. He always felt like he was overthinking everything when he was trying to socialize, like he was reading off some type of script. Your chipper personality made things a tad easier, at least. 

“Really?” You seem to brighten up even more. Carmen is sure there’s light shining from your face from how excited you look, but he doesn’t mind. It’s amusing, almost... Cute.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Just uh... Let me know when.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course!” You pause, realizing he’s probably expecting you to give him some kind of contact information. Unless he was planning to use telepathic communication. You put down the folded table. “Right, sorry, uh...” You laughed awkwardly and pulled out a pen and an old receipt from your back pocket to scribble your number on, before handing it to him. “There we go!” 

Carmen’s eyes went over the number, putting it in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget to save it later. “Cool, cool... So uh, text you later.” He silently cringed at his own words, trying painfully hard to play it cool. 

“Yeah, totally!” Your mom called your name, and you look over your shoulder, seeing her gesture to you to hurry up. “Be right there, mama!” You chuckled. “Sorry, duty calls! But yeah, I’ll hear from you. And if I don’t, I know where you work, Berzatto.” 

He chuckles slightly at your joking threat. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.” He gives you a curt wave before walking off and letting you go back to work. 

He really hoped you didn’t mean that “threat”. He’d rather die than let you see him at the Beef right when they got such a bad hygiene rating. 

He was laid down on the couch late at night, watching an episode on the food network about an olive farm in Italy. He wondered if your family’s farm was anything like this one, and remembered he hadn’t even saved your number or texted you yet. Carmen rubbed his sleepy eyes and pulled out his phone, saving your number under a new contact and typing out a few quick texts. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, realized he was overthinking it and fell asleep not long after, the sound of an elderly Italian woman speaking on TV in the background.

[unknown]: hey, it’s carmen

[unknown]: guy from the beef

[unknown]: next thursday work for you?

You groaned in your bed, looking over at your phone and cursing yourself for forgetting to turn off your notifications. “The fuck...” Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen. A sleepy smile adorned your face when you read his name, saving his contact and texting something back quickly before putting the phone away and going back to sleep.

[y/n]: for sure!

[y/n]: let’s do 4:30 PM? café closes at 4 anyways so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves :)))

[lesbiankimdahyun]

Summer Session II

700 words

CW: N/A

A/N: um, guys Y/N is a lewser and Sana knows it

[Sana x F!Reader] 

Requested: Yes

You texted with Sana sparsely throughout the week. It was a delicate dance for you and your growing anxiety. You didn’t let yourself reply to her more than twice a day, desperate to appear cool and aloof. After enough pain-staking back and forth over a couple days, you had plans to meet her for a drink on Friday night. On the train ride back downtown, your phone buzzed. You nearly dropped your phone trying to pull it out of your pocket to see who had messaged you. 

Chae 🍓: are u ready for your (friend) date, superstar!!! 

You: hi! no! why am i THIS nervous 

Chae 🍓: oooh you liiiike her now 😏

You: say that again and i wont tell you how it goes tn 

Chae 🍓: OKAY okay sorry 

Chae 🍓: but if she becomes your new bestie over me i’m fighting her 

You: NEVER i promise

You tried not to gulp cartoonishly when you arrived at the bar Sana had suggested meeting at. It was a three dollar sign type of bar, and your meager internship wages told you you’d only be drinking a single drink tonight. 

As if reading your mind, Sana insisted the first round of drinks was on her. The two of you sat up at the bar sipping drinks that used ingredients you’d have never found at any of the cheaper college bars closer to campus. Stupidly expensive, but the gold leaf that swirled in your glass was pretty, at least. The conversation between the two of you started out with safe topics like school and internships, but Sana, you found, was fun to talk to. Your conversation with her continued to flow naturally into other topics like music and shows. You were just about to ask her what her availability looked like for next week in hopes of meeting up again, when she turned to face you. 

“So, Tinder, huh?” she asked, a playful smile on her face. 

You felt your face burn. Sana signaled for two more drinks, giving you a millisecond to try and compose yourself before you died of embarrassment right there in the dark, moody bar. 

“Uh, yeah. It– it was mostly to try and make friends,” you stammered. Sana nodded slowly. 

“Mostly, sure,” Sana said. “Have you had any luck? Or– are you seeing someone?” she flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder casually, and the crisp, fresh scent of her hair products felt intoxicating suddenly. “I can never remember who in our cohort does and doesn’t have a significant other.” 

“I haven’t,” you said, maybe a little too quickly. “And no. I got stood up for the first time ever like right after moving here…” you paused to take a sip of the fresh drink in front of you. “Kinda took the fun out of wanting to find someone,” you said. 

Sana frowned. “You’re way too cute to be stood up,” she said. 

You blushed. “Oh, well–” 

“Forgive me,” Sana cut you off. “If this is like, entirely too forward…” she nearly drained her glass as she raised it to her lips to drink. “I know you said you’re using the app for friends and that’s cute, but I think I saw your profile say you’re a…” her gaze found yours. “...service top?”

“Oh god,” you cringed, mentally kicking yourself for putting that on there in the first place. “You saw that?” 

“Yes,” Sana said, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Personally, I’d love to see for myself sometime.”  

“You– what?” You almost laughed, thinking she was joking at first. But then Sana gave you a once over and you nearly fell over. She wasn’t kidding. 

Wordlessly, Sana flagged down the bartender. She paid for both rounds for both of you. As she signed her name on the receipt, she looked at you again. “Are you free tomorrow night?” 

You nodded dumbly, moving to stand when she did. She hugged you. Had her perfume always smelled that good? You couldn’t remember now. When you pulled away, you must have had a deer-in-the-headlights expression on your face, because Sana giggled. 

“See you tomorrow,” she said, brushing your arm lightly. “I’m free after seven. Wear something cute.” 

[roguishcat]

Augustarion Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard

A/N: Yes, I know what 'shirt that goes hard' means.😁 But what if the shirt literally went hard? Enjoy this little bit of whimsy courtesy of me getting no sleep for two days straight and thus having time to write. This is just for giggles and not meant to be taken seriously.

Comments, likes and reblogs always appreciated!❤️

Pairing: female reader (You) x Astarion

Day 1 - 🍓, Day 2 - 🌊, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 6 - Cream, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 14 - Protective

You stared at it in horror. Astarion’s favourite shirt. You couldn’t believe that the thing you were holding in your hands was his favourite shirt. Or rather, something that once was his favourite shirt and now resembled a flat, stiff piece of wood.

And how did this happen? Well, it started when Astarion complained that being on the road meant not being able to deal with the annoying wrinkles and creases. And he so hated not looking well put together!

So, what did you do? Oh, just looked up a spell that, apparently, was used by the servants in the city to make sure their masters’ clothes stayed perfect at any time, even fresh after a battle or a quick romp. Or at least until the items got washed and the spell had to be reapplied.

Except something went wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong. Halfway through the spell, you sneezed violently. Which apparently affected the incantation. And instead of becoming wrinkle-free, the shirt has become as stiff as a board.

 You tried everything. Getting it wet. Trying to reverse the spell. Setting it on fire. Enlisting Gale’s help. Nothing worked! The damn thing remained rigid.

You felt like crying. Oh, what were you to do? What would Astarion say? Two hundred damn years! Two hundred years he kept the shirt impeccable, mended it lovingly and meticulously. And perhaps the fabric was looking a tiny bit threadbare and worn in some places, but otherwise the state of it was near perfect.

And then your stupid ass came along and ruined it! How long did it take you to destroy it? About five minutes.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” you whispered, putting the shirt down with a dull thump.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Wyll lied with a wince.

No, it wasn’t bad. It was terrible! There was no way to sugarcoat it. Astarion would see it and immediately hate you and he would be right to do so.

“Are you sure that you can’t think of any spell that might reverse… whatever it was that I did?” you asked weakly, looking up at Gale with hope.

“Believe me, my friend, I did everything I could. I may no longer have Mystra’s favour, but my memory would not fail me. I am sorry,” he replied in a grave voice.

You knew that Gale did his best. It was you who was the idiot that started this in the first place. You did screw up rather spectacularly from time to time, which both annoyed and amused others, but this was the first time that you were quite sure that Astarion would genuinely be hurt by it.

You heard Astarion before you saw him. He and Lae’zel were out scouting earlier this afternoon and they seemed to be back with some good news.

“Dearest!” Astarion greeted you from across the camp, “You would not believe the day that I’ve had! And- oh. What’s this?”

You turned around slowly, your back ramrod straight, holding the shirt in front of you.

“Um… So, you see… Wow, this will be real difficult to explain,” you clutched the damn thing so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

“Darling, what is this that you are holding in your hands?” Astarion took a step towards you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Um… I tried a thing and- and this happened.”

“What exactly happened? And what is this?” he motioned to whatever it was that you were holding, realizing that the item in your hands looked vaguely familiar.

“It’s your shirt,” you mumbled in a small voice. “I tried a spell and something went wrong and here we are.”

Astarion took the shirt from your hands with an unreadable expression, fingers clutching at the harder-than-stone fabric.

“I am so sorry!’ you wailed, “I shouldn’t have done it! I wanted to surprise you-”

“You certainly did,” he said, turning the shirt sideways with a frown.

“I mean, you always complained about the fabric creasing and not being able to do anything about it. And I thought I had the solution and- I tried a spell.”

“Well, it will certainly not crease now,” he said, rapping his knuckles against the surface. “Excuse me,” Astarion turned around and made for his tent without another word.

This was a disaster. He hated you. The one reminder of his life before he was turned, the one thing that Cazador did not take from him, the one item that stayed with him and you ruined it.

The only thing that kept you from bawling like a toddler was the need to keep up appearances. Because you were still supposed to be the leader of a formidable group of heroes defending the city from the ultimate evil and- oh hells! You could feel the tears coming and took a deep breath to calm down. And then another, until you felt that you got your errant emotions under control. It seemed to work well enough, although you were now acutely aware that the others were watching the scene with barely concealed interest. One of the downsides of travelling with a group of friends. You could never have a slither of privacy. You were already embarrassed about your screw up, and having so many witnesses really did nothing to improve your foul mood.

You knew you probably should be giving Astarion space right now, but you just couldn’t. So, you squared your shoulders and went after your vampire. Though you were not entirely sure if he would want to be yours after this incident.

“Astarion?” you pulled the tent flap aside a little, “Can I come in?”

“I will not stop you if you do, if that is what you mean,” he said without looking in your direction.

Okay, ouch. But you deserved much worse right now. So silently, you came in and sat on a cushion.

Astarion was looking at his shirt, his face void of any emotion. He didn’t seem to be looking at the disaster of a gift, but rather through it. Lost in thought.

Five minutes passed, then five more. You tried not to fidget, but the silent treatment was making you nervous. Astarion still did not give you any attention and it didn’t seem that he would be in the mood to do so any time soon. So, you decided to speak up. Because sitting like this and waiting for him to say something was torture.

“I-,” you began weakly and cleared your throat, “I will just take my things and won’t disturb you anymore.”

“I’m sorry?” he blinked, finally turning towards you.

“Or, perhaps I could come back for them some other time.”

“Darling, why would you take your things at all?”  Astarion cocked his head to a side, not sure where you were going with this.

“Because I ruined your shirt.”

“And you are afraid that I might retaliate and ruin your clothes, is that it?”

He noticed your hunched shoulders and dejected look and realised that you may have misinterpreted his silence.

“Or is it something even more ridiculous, such as you getting it into your lovely head that I might break up with you over something so trivial?” Astarion leaned closer to you, brushing an errant lock aside to get a better look at your face.

Okay, ouch again. But you supposed that you deserved that too.

“You sweet fool,” he sighed, pulling you down to sit in his lap, “you saved me countless times. Saved me from Cazador, from myself. What is a shirt in a grand scale of things?”

You felt him put his arms around you and finally relaxed into his touch, enjoying the way he ran his fingers through your hair.

“I mean, I understand why you are upset. I did look amazing in it. But then again, I’d look amazing in anything," he went on. "Besides, I am sure that we can pick out something gorgeous when we get to the city. And for now, you will just have to try and resist me in my half-naked glory,” Astarion flicked his curls back and gave you a sultry look.

“I can’t resist you even when you are fully dressed,” you played along, reaching for his ear with your lips and placing a tender, lingering kiss to the tip, making him purr.

“Well, then we have no choice but to take an evening to ourselves, don’t we?” Astarion conceded playfully, submitting to your searching hands as you fumbled for the ties of his armour.

The next day Lae’zel and Karlach tested out Astarion’s shirt in action and found that it made quite a formidable weapon. When thrown, it sliced through opponents like a knife through butter. When used to strike, the bludgeoning damage was off the charts! It was fireproof, waterproof, gave the holder the ability to ignore many offensive spells and was near indestructible!

Gale begged you to remember which syllable you sneezed on so he could try to replicate the spell and try to make another weapon of the type. But no matter what you did, the spell did exactly as advertised. Got clothes to stay wrinkle-free.

“It appears that this shirt is truly one-of-a-kind,” Wyll laughed, balancing it on the palm of his hand. “Weighs so little too!”

“Well, everything about me is extraordinary. Makes perfect sense for my shirt to have unique properties too,” Astarion looked at it in a way that a proud parent would regard an overachieving child. “Shame that you didn’t cast that spell earlier, darling. I would have quite enjoying smashing Cazador’s head in with it. Would have been ironic that he beat being perfect into me, only for me to come back and beat him perfectly with the shirt.”

“Still plenty of bad guys out there, Fangs! I might just borrow this from you to teach Gortash a lesson,” Karlach cracked her knuckles.

“You would have to fight Lae’zel for it first, I’m afraid,” you lifted your shield as you got ready to move out. “She said that such a formidable weapon can only be wielded by the most experienced warrior.”

“I’m experienced enough!”

“Chk! By the standards of this realm, you fight well. But only the githyanki are taught to be experts with any weapon. I will be the one to carry it,” she insisted, ignoring the protests of others. As far as Lae’zel was concerned, the matter was settled.

And so your ragtag group set off on yet another adventure feeling that the odds were decisively in your favour as of late. You and Astarion walked side by side, hands brushing as you listened to Karlach and Lae’zel bicker. Seeing as the others were preoccupied, Astarion snaked his arm round your middle and pulled you flush against him.

“Do warn me next time you want to experiment, my dear. You claim this to be an accident, but I suspect you have an ulterior motive. One might even say that it is your subconsciousness guiding your hand when it comes to destroying my clothes.”

Astarion’s smile widened as you flushed a beautiful shade of red, claiming your lips in a way that communicated quite clearly that he was down for whatever else your delightful brain would come up with.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[coral-melon]

Heya!! CM! (Get it your user!)

Its 🍓 again :3

Would you be able to write imagine/hc thingys how they would react to seeing your human form for the first time when you go to the human world with them! Im thinking along the flustered fluff/ possibility suggestive thoughts about mc =^=

Any of the brothers/dateables u want! But if your looking for specific just mammon & levi as personal preference :3

(AFAB preferred but No description of gender js cool too :3 )

Aghhh sorry this is worded so weird I’m not the best leaving suggestions i feel too askyy ;^;

Your writing is lovely and i can’t wait to see more!!

- 🍓

Hello again -🍓! Love the ‘CM’ nickname! And by all means, ask whatever you want and however much you want! I’ll always make the time to write any requests~

Also sorry for taking so long; I really wasn’t too sure how to write this, and I’m sorry but I kinda tweaked it and lil bit.. ^^’ I was going to make everyone but I ended up only doing Mammon cuz I thought it would’ve been a very long post. BUT! I can most definitely make separate posts for each of the brothers if that’s something you and others want!

A and as always, if it sucks just lemme know! Constructive criticism is always welcome >;)

Cotton Surprise

Obey me! Mammon x Sheep!MC

Genre: Fluff, crack/shenanigans, slightly suggestive

What’s it about?: Seeing your human form for the first time!

Not that many but They/them pronounce; mainly AFAB

A throwback to Lesson 19 from the original game but tweaked it as well

Edit: ((There were minor changes cuz someone made a comment that pointed out to me how maybe some people didn’t understand what I was telling. Totally my fault ^^’🙏))

None of them ever understood why you turned into a sheep. It happened as soon as you first arrived to Devildom. But the more time they spent with you, they got used to it — some even forgetting you’re a human all together.

One day, most of the Brothers were sitting together in the living room. It was mostly quiet until Asmo brought the question: “Hey, What do you guys think MC looks like if they weren’t a sheep?”

It left them a bit dumbfounded that they hadn’t even thought about it. They got so used to you being a sheep so it kinda just slipped their mind. It also got them to start bickering a ton of what they thought you’d look like.

— “What’s with all the commotion?” A voice interrupts their conversation. Lucifer walks in with you in his hand, talk about perfect timing!

— “We were just talking about what MC looks like if they were in their human form.” Beel explains.

— “Oh right.. none of you have seen them.” Lucifer remarked, chuckling softly under his breath.

— “What does that mean?” Satan says with already irritation in his voice.

— “Well, it’s only right that I know what MC looks like. I was the one who picked them, after all.”

This got many of them heated! Jealous that Lucifer was pretty much the only one that knows. Mammon, Levi and Asmo were whining about how that’s not fair, Satan was gritting his teeth, and Beel along with Belphie just sat quietly watching the scene. They quieted down once you said, “I could just describe what I look like, y’know.”

All of them gathered around like a bunch of kindergartners getting ready to listen to a story book. They payed such close attention to every detail you said and tried to visualize it in their head to the best of their ability. It only made them even more eager to see you for themselves.

And it didn’t happen until the very last moments before you had to go back to the human realm..

… With a true loves kiss! >;D

Cliché, I know. - -’

Mammon

After dipping the House of Lamentation, he ends up in who knows where but more importantly, away from Levi. After he was done huffing for air, both of you start laughing from the absolute fun of stupidity you guys had. You couldn’t help but think about how odd it must’ve look from someone else’s perspective.

You two eventually eased off and took the time to catch your breaths. And then realize the beautiful view you guys have of Devildom. He sits you down gently on the thick stone fences while he rests his body on it. There was a short, soothing silence between the both of you — a soft, cool breeze blowing while you watching the city lights together. Mammon eventually brakes the silence and says,

“Y’know what? It’s always fun whenever you’re around.. I’m always smilin’ and laughin’ when we’re together. There’s never a dull moment..” he says softly; when you look up at him, he’s not looking at you but can tell he has a blush decorating his cheeks.

You smile at him warmly, before looking down at your tiny trotters. You were a sheep till the very end.. you had fun, but you can’t help but get a little sad thinking about it. Like just now, you would’ve been able to run away with him instead of being carried like a pillow.

“W-Who needs the human world, eh? You don’t gotta go back! I want you right here in Devildom, I want you here with me, all the time..!” Mammon looked straight at you, you perked up at him once he said that. He looked at you as if you were the greatest treasure he’s ever had. He wasn’t kidding around, such an unusually serious and determined face…, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

There was a silence again, you looked at him with in awe eyes. He slowly leans in, you leaning slightly forward.. letting whatever was going to happen, happen. Until finally, his lips reached you.

☁︎ —Poof— ☁︎

Light clouds suddenly surrounds you, Mammon was completely taken aback; and then he just freezes. When the clouds disperse, it revealed you.

You felt.. different. Blinked a couple of times before you looked down again. And to you completely surprise, the troopers you looked at but merely a few seconds ago were replaced with hands! You touched your face, your hair, your legs.. they were all back! You give a yell for joy, your curse has been broken! But then you also realize how you didn’t have any clothes on… you looked at mammon — who had his face completely red and eyes glued on you, completely frozen in place. Which made you freeze for a moment.

(Him)→ ╭( ⸝⸝๐_๐)╮ (○□○) ←(you)

— “AAAAAAAHHH!!!”

— “AAAAAAAHHH!!!”

You tried to cover yourself to the best of your ability; but first of all, you can’t really cover much. Second, he already saw everything! Both of you were very flustered, embarrassed, and still shocked by what just happened. You weren’t a sheep anymore! What’s up with that?!

Thankfully, Mammon at some point finally snaps out of it and covers you with his uniform’s blazer. You grip onto it tightly and covering yourself to the best of you ability. You mutter him a ‘Thank you’ under your breath. But both of you were still quite frantic, looking at each other with wide eyes while huffing to calm you nerves.

“Aha! …Found you!” A voice suddenly says from a short distance. It was Levi!

“Oh shit..”

“Mammon, Give me back my moneeey!!”

“Yikes! Time to go!” He says, lifting you up into his arms and making a run for it. And man did he run! He probably ran faster than when he was being chased by Lucifer. Levi didn’t see it coming’.

You were in a daze, you’ve been carried by him countless times.. but today you felt like a princess that’s been swooped by Prince Charming — a very peculiar one, but still charming.

He — at some point — stops running and hid in whatever corner he thought was good enough so that Levi wouldn’t find you two. With his back to the wall, he collapses to the ground. With you still in his arms but making sure you didn’t fall. You can’t help but laugh and pull him into a tight hug.

Mammon felt like his face was going to explode any second now, he just couldn’t believe that he was holding the actual you — and naked at that! But whatever was going through his head completely perished once he heard your lovely laugh. You were so happy.. embracing him with all your new found excitement. It felt like it was only the two of you in the whole word, so nothing else mattered.

“You broke my curse, Mammon!” You say. When I say this guy’s ego got inflated, I mean it. He felt like nothing could stop him now. That’s right! The great Mammon just did that! No one else!

He takes a closer look at you face; he always kept in mind all of the details you said that day, but you looked way better than what he had imagined. He couldn’t believe his eyes…

You suddenly pull him in and give him a passionate kiss; and oof, was he over the moon! After that one, he starts feeling greedy. Just one kiss isn’t enough..!

—☁︎

Later on, he bought you a few clothes since, of course, you didn’t have any. And decide to go back home.

When he went back to the House of Lamentation, he wanted nothing more than to just sneak in without his brothers knowing. But much to his dismay, Levi was already waiting for him at the gates. And when he realizes that the person he’s holding is you, he goes hysterical and now the rest of his brothers know..

“Oi, that’s enough! Step aside! Can’t ya see MC needs to get to their room??”

He’s always looked out for you.. from beginning to end. You felt like you were falling in love with him all over again. It was hard to believe that life here was coming to an end.. You want to make the most of it before having to go back home. But at the moment, you just wanted time to stay still, just for a moment..

End

I had a lot of fun writing this! So tysm for requesting it -🍓. Tho again, I’m sorry for not really completing what you asked for.. I still hope I was able to put a smile on your face! Take care~

[flamingo-writes]

hello >-<

so i have this idea

hobie is a punk musician right? what if he kinda like this artist (their work and all) but the artist is a anon so he got no idea who it was but he knows their art style by heart

he would go to art galleries that will feature the artist

he would even go to the extent of buying a print or two

he would also ask for a commission from the artist

but he would do all of it in incognito (he’s like an idol idoling his idol from the fake acc to ask for comms to disguises just to go to the gallery)

little did he know his fav artist/reader is also a big fan of his band

how would they meet??

(sorry if it’s to long or kinda hard to understand, thank youuu have a wonderful day)

•🍓

You have no idea how much I loved this. I kinda projected myself (like I’ve honestly been in all of my hobie fanfics, but bcs I too, am a punk and do art occasionally) my eco-punk tendencies keep showing, and I’m honestly not gonna stop anytime soon (as you can tell from the constant mention of plants in my writing). This took me forever but I’ve been hella busy 😭

I’ll perhaps do a second part of this

WC: 1.2K or something.

Art is Freedom — Hobie x GN!Reader

"Art is Freedom" was the signature of the anonymous artist Hobie desired to meet. There was something about their art that simply fascinated him. From murals made out with plants, to your standard mural with spray paint. In galleries, this same artist did installations with all sorts of recycled materials. From newspaper, cardboard, paper, sometimes even stuff like aluminium and glass. Others screen printing on recycled fabric and old shirts, and most recently digital art, with the option of buying prints.

What Hobie liked about this artist was how cold and straightforward could they be with their art to express their thoughts and feelings. With a strong commentary on environmentalism. Also very graphic art talking about feminism and domestic violence. He loved the passion put into these pieces, he gawked at the raw energy expiring from the art pieces.

However, tracking them down was particularly hard. They were good at covering up their tracks. Although Hobie knew what that was like, so he started thinking in a similar way this anonymous artist would do. Sometimes feeling guilty for wanting to uncover this artist’s identity, he wouldn’t like it if someone was waiting for him to make a mistake at covering his tracks and found out who he was. But at the same time, he genuinely wanted to meet this person, have a talk with them, sure that Spider-Man and this artist would get along very well.

One fortuitous day, at the art gallery Hobie liked to frequent, there was a new exposition. This one was a photography show. It was the first time this artist showcased pictures. The theme was punk. And most of the photos were from concerts. Spider-Man was even in most of them. Not only was this artist a fan of his band, but from the pictures, Hobie was able to get an idea of who this artist was.

The group of hardcore punks who always showed up to his concerts, art shows, or were wrecking havoc during manifestations, was for the most part the same crowd. Some faces and even names became familiar not only to him but to everyone else.

And you had a face easy to recognise. You had a reputation for always being in the middle of the mosh pit, jamming and jumping like everybody else. However, you were taking pics. Right in the middle of the mosh, you managed to take the best pictures from the stage and the crowd. How did you manage to take those pics while getting out, not only yourself but your camera intact? It was a mystery many people liked to think about.

Hobie had seen you at almost every gig. And he’d seen the magnificent work you did with the photos. However, for the two years he’s been following this anonymous artist, he’d never seen photos. However, for the three or four years you’ve been following his band, he’d seen you in the crowd and seeing your work.

And now standing in front of your exposition, he could clearly identify the peculiar style of the pictures. Those pictures clearly were taken from the depths of a mosh pit. And keeping cameras intact and photos this good of a mosh pit could only be you.

His eyes widened at the realisation. He knew you all along, and had been watching your work from afar for so long. He didn’t personally know you, but he’d seen you around so much to think you were a cool lad, the pins on your jacket were rad, and that you had good taste in music. And of course, he thought you were a talented photographer.

But now that he’d put two and two together, not only were you a magnificent photographer, but an overall artist. The respect and admiration he felt for you duplicated, as he’d thought he was admiring at two different artist while it was actually one and the same.

“Oh! Look at these!” Some people in the gallery said as they neared the pictures and paid close attention to them. “Dude, this pics are sick! Kinda like the ones you always take!”

He diverted his gaze and saw a couple of people leaning closer to take in the details, and a third person wearing a hoodie. Hands hidden in the pouch and hood over their head.

“They’re pretty good,”

Hobie raised an eyebrow as he paced around the gallery, trying to get closer, wondering if it could be you underneath that hoodie.

As he got closer, pretending to glance at the pictures, he saw you from the corner of his eyes and smirked. Your poker face was actually very good, but he could see right through it.

“You think the artist knows how meaningful their art is to others?” Hobie said in a low voice as he glanced at you.

“They better! They’re fucking awesome!” One of your friends said, clueless of what Hobie was trying to do.

“I’m sure they’ve got some idea,” You said meeting Hobie’s stare.

“Well, they sure are my favourite artist, I’ll tell you that…” He said confidently. “I’ve seen you around in gigs, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, probably. I’m always around in gigs…” You said shyly.

“Especially Spider-Man! You love that guy!” One of your friends said, as you felt your cheeks warming up slightly.

“Do you?” Hobie asked.

“His style is very unique. And he’s amazing. He’s been a huge inspiration for me,” reluctantly, you admitted.

“Really? That’s cool. I’m Hobie,” His smirk flashed across his face with a slight arrogant yet full of charm.

“Nice meeting you,” You introduced yourself to him, telling him your name. “I like your style…” You said, pulling one of your hands out of the pouch of your hoodie and pointed at his pins.

“Thanks,” He said, repeating your name. “So, you said Spider-Man was an inspiration…”

“I do art sometimes,” You shrugged. “I wish I could live off of it but, it’s hard,”

“The world is so unkind to artist, unless you decide to sell yourself like a whore,”

You looked at Hobie, thinking there was something strangely familiar and yet refreshing of him. He was tall, he was skinny, but definitely looked like the guy you wouldn’t want to get in a fight with. And yet, he didn’t look all that intimidating. In fact, you felt curious.

“Yeah, pretty much…” You agreed.

“Wanna go for a beer sometime?”

It was hard for you not to smirk as you looked away. Your friends now further away, having read the room and left you alone with Hobie.

“Excuse me?” You armed yourself with courage to look back at him and meet his stare, his eyes a lighter shade of brown compared to the rest of his skin. He was gorgeous, you thought.

“You seem like a pretty interesting person, I’d like to know you better and know a bit more about the art you make, if that’s okay of course…” He shrugged, nonchalantly, able to read your slightly shy and awkward demeanour.

“Do I know you?” You asked.

Hobie chuckled softly. Knowing exactly what you meant, wondering if you were able to somehow relate him to Spider-Man already.

“Yeah, I introduced myself two minutes ago,” he teased, as you chuckled and rolled your eyes playfully.

“No—I me-mean yeah…” You giggled “But…Before that?”

Hobie shrugged.

“Why you ask?”

“I don’t know…” You sighed looking at him curiously, attentively. “Something about you feels oddly familiar…”

“Perhaps,” He shrugged “who knows, there’s only one way to find out…” He winked.

You smirked.

“Later today? At the Hayfield?” You said, naming your favourite bar, agreeing to his invitation.

“Someone likes artisan beer,” Hobie pointed out with an approving nod.

“Isn’t that the best kind of beer?” This time, you shrugged nonchalantly “Besides, Hayfield supports all the local beer producers and amateurs too”

“Nice. See you then,” Hobie said. “9 works for you?”

“9 it is” You smirked, feeling your chest stirring slightly.

“Nice meeting ya” He said turning around, with a triumphant smirk.

“Nice meeting you too…”

~~~~~~~~~

don’t forget to leave a comment if you like this and reboots always help your local and favourite writers get more traction 🙆🏻‍♀️

[heeslomll]

moots as emojis?

i’m finally doing this,,, i’m so sorry this took so long😭 also please don’t kick my ass if you are not here, please let’s interact more so i can add you. i love you all so so so so much. 💋

@intromortal - 💍🥵 you are my sexy wife and i love u sm (jw’s best girl)

@karinasbaby - 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻😍 the loml wife everything

@enha-stars - 💼💋 my hard working wife who has 4 girls spread out before her… (give my girl a rest)

@ak4e7a - 👩‍👧‍👧🫦 MAMAAAAA prettiest kitty😍

@alvojake - ❤️ most caring and beautiful kayla u deserve all the hearts

@emi-en - 🔟 our 10/10 oppa my little ageplayer

@jaeyunluvr - 😈🧎🏻‍♀️(last emoji me @ u) kayz my baby u mean the world to me

@rikstar - ⚡️🧸 our energy drink addiction, also u are just a small lidol beautiful teddy bear i wanna put you in my pocket

@chlorinecake - 🌚 u r just like me freaky balls😍

@dollyyun - 🍦(I COULDNT FIND A DOLL EMOJI) my doll prettiest girl ever ily

@taesancore - 🐯 my shawty purrr purrr

@naomiarai - 🫣🫠😼 (more like me @ u) PLSPLSPLS

@hollyoongs - 👯‍♀️ MY TWINNN ILY BEBE

@ja3yun - 🧝‍♀️ aj’s beauty is ethereal so i had to put this

@yzzyhee - ✌🏻u are just so peace & love and i love talking w u in the server

@taeghi - 🌊 u have the prettiest name and overall just remind me of a pretty ocean view (not only because of ur name)

@jakesangel - 🍰🪽 soft angel princess

@jaylaxies - 🌸 u remind me of a pretty flower

@dear-hoon - 🐶 idk when i think of u i only think of that one dog picture u sent

@hwanchaesong - 🍭 you seem such a colorful and sweet person ily fr

@yeonzzzn - 👸 hello self explanatory queen of enhablr and u are so sweet and kind as well ugh i wanna get to know u more!!

@sincerelyrki - 🍥 i haven’t talked to u alot! I wanna interact more<3

@heeslut4life - 🍯 aeri my best girl ugh i just love u <33

@kpopaussieline - 🧁 u are so kind and sweet

@seunghancore - 💙 i really wanna interact w u more!

@jayujus - 🔮 u seem so kind and nice let’s interact more :(

@pshazez - 🩵 blue reminds me of u

@minhosimthings - ☀️ u have such a sunny shining smile, so kind and i’m just obsessed with you

@en-geneisaxx - 🌻 warm and kind always there to cheer me up

@heejake-hoon - 🫦 shawty fine asf

@un06 - 🦋 my sweet butterfly best taehyung stan out there !! ilysm

@antonsgirlfriend - 🎀 i vibe w u so well and i looove talking w u

@rikislady - 🍓🧚🏻‍♀️ you remind me of a strawberry fairy / princess

@hees-sweetheart 👾 - you seem such a kind and sweet person!!

[silent-sanctum]

Hi~ can I be 🍓anon? If you’re doing the emoji anon thing. Well, I just wanted to know if you’d write something with soulmate AU. I’m literally the most basic b ever and a sucker for soulmate AU. 🙈 something with jotaro being your soulmate is so cute to me…You can come up with any premise you want!

Hello 🍓 anon! I'm really sorry I took so long to put this out. I had a lot going on irl 😭 But here it is, over 9k worth of content about destiny and meeting each other through that.

Now, I'm gonna be honest, I am not too fond of the trope but I do dig it from time to time. So, I hope what I wrote meets your expectations! Hope you enjoy! ♡

A Wonderful World - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 9k

Everything was a blur. You couldn’t feel anything as your body felt weightless and cold.

But you could make out the rush of water fly by you and you could’ve sworn the skies went awry, never stopping as day turned to dusk to night to dawn and back in a blink of an eye.

You couldn’t move an inch and in circumstances like this, you knew this moment of clarity would be the last breath you’d experience.

Around you were bodies lying on the raging waters. A few of them were unfamiliar to you but you considered them allies, companions who aided you in getting this far into the chaos, and next to you was…

Your eyes swelled with tears.

Next to you was your husband motionless, forever resting as he left this world before you, a bleeding gash that split the right side of his face serving as a reminder of what caused his death.

‘I failed you.’

Whatever energy you had left in you was spent through your hand wading through the water, all to reach him one last time. Your surroundings started to dim and your body rotted with time, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered now was spending your last seconds by his side.

With your hand holding his, you closed your eyes and sent a prayer to the heavens- that maybe in another universe… in another timeline where this much pain and suffering didn’t exist… you prayed desperately that if it was written in fate, you could meet him there and fall in love all over again.

As you took your last breath, the last name you hoped carried on to the next life was-

You gasp, eyes now wide awake.

Your vision cleared and it took you a couple blinks for you to reorient with your surroundings. It was early morning and here you lay on your bed, the curtains drawn and the digital clock beside you just turning 7:31 with its bright red font.

Then there was that familiar ache that made you grasp your heart and spill a tear upon waking. “That dream again… It’s always that stupid dream,” you mumbled as you swiped the wetness off your eyes. You couldn’t for the life of you know why that one was so consistent amidst the many other random variants in your head.

And why the name couldn’t come to mind in every instance.

Before you, a ghostly apparition hovered out to face you with a fabric loosened to lay on your shoulders. You smiled as you grasped the translucent rose gold silk. “It’s fine. I’m fine Sanctuary. Just the usual.”

The entity tilted its head and only after the cloth lightly caressed your cheek with affection did it disappear back into you.

In perfect timing, your phone rang and on the screen flashed “Manager”. Swiping to accept, you placed the device by your ear. “Yes manager-nim?”

“Well if it isn’t my favorite leading star. I do hope you remember that you’re scheduled for a shoot at Toushiki Beach today.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes with a smirk at the singsong voice of the caller. “Yeah yeah, I know. 10:30 in the morning, right?”

“Ding ding ding. And if you don’t want your co-star complaining our ears off, you better be ready when I ring that doorbell.”

“Don’t worry,” you threw your legs off to the side and stood, heading to the bathroom. “I’ve always been on time. No matter how late I wake or whatnot. If anything, it’s him that’s always late.”

On the other side of the call, your manager groaned less at you and more at his situation. “And yet we’re also pulled into his mess.”

“Well, this isn’t my first rodeo. If the director starts yelling at us again, I’ll make sure to remind him who’s truly at fault here,” you said. “Besides, no one would be at fault but his if he even considers changing one of the industry’s highest-paid actors mid-shoot.”

“You better keep your word Y/N.”

“I will.”

Life as a celebrity was nothing too challenging, considering you’ve been raised to shine for the masses. Stardom started as a singer when your parents encouraged you to use your voice to entice the public. But as that career took off, you were offered to star in a film as an artist cameo once you’ve hit 18.

Then it all snowballed down the line. Many producers found your visuals and acting skills top-notch and wanted you to lead their shows and movies.

Here you were 10 years later- an A-list actress paid handsomely to feature in media that award-winning directors directed.

And to make it all better, well for you at least, you had someone to accompany you. A ghostly entity you named “Silent Sanctuary” was linked to you and you didn’t know why it did or how no one else did, but you came to accept that she was a part of you- a being who wished to be your invisible “guardian angel” willingly.

Your thoughts were shoved aside as the vehicle stopped and your actual bodyguard opened the door for you. Immediately, a frazzled-looking man in a padded jacket holding a clipboard came running to you. “Y/N! Oh, thank god you were here before your co-star did!”

“What did I say?” You said, stepping outside onto the concrete pavement. The breeze from the nearby sea brushed your hair on your arrival. “I told you I’m always on time.”

“Yeah that’s great and all but we still have to report to the director,” he said as he led you across the solid path ahead, walking past the rocky formations jutting out from the sandy ground and down on the stone staircase leading to the beach.

Ahead of you was the production crew setting up the necessary equipment needed for filming, and among them was a loud-mouthed man yelling at somebody to fix the sound system with his megaphone. Yeah, just another day of filming.

Soon your co-star arrived, late as you’d expect, already stomping into the scene whining about how cold it was or how annoying traffic was. But that didn’t matter as you sucked yourself into the role you were given ahead of time.

The movie’s concept revolved around the idea of soulmates. Its story involved the tale of two lovers who were always met at the short end of the stick, constantly losing each other time and time again, and your character’s job was to find a way to make sure that in this universe, you’d reach for your love and never let fate separate them again.

You weren’t fond of these films mainly because you thought the idea of “finding your fated partner” sounded too childish or fantastical to your liking, and initially, you were about to reject the offer. But somehow, as you read the script for the first time, you found yourself… touched. Your heart ached not at the thought of “meeting your soulmate for the first time” but at the idea of “finding your lover again in a better world”.

For a second, your mind thought back to the dream you kept having- of rushing water, fallen bodies, and the deceased man you held hands with.

And here you were now- playing the lead role for this “red string of fate-esque” movie with one of the worst partners you’d imagine. Do this for the output. For the results. For the story to be told to the crowd.

So, you did your part well; the moment the director cued the cameras to start rolling, you did your best to portray a struggling person arguing with her estranged lover about a key issue in the film. It took several cuts and a couple of re-shoots before the director was contented with the scene and called for an hour-long break. Lunch.

You invited your manager to eat out at a nearby restaurant selling ramen but he politely declined saying he had to answer some phone calls regarding brand deals you were supposed to be in.

You went ahead, a single bodyguard in tow on the way to the supposed popular place. When you got there, its reputation met your expectations- the place was filled to the brim, teeming with customers wanting a taste of the chef’s tasty ramen. With security waiting outside, you entered the place with your mask and hat on and fell in line.

Once your order was taken and a blinking pager was given, you turned to look for a spot where you could wait. But then, a pull caught your attention and you looked over to see Sanctuary hovering about, fixating on something with a fabric tugging your wrist.

“Hey,” you whispered. “What’s wrong?”

The entity ignored your words and continued tugging, wanting you to go somewhere. Confused, you directed your gaze to where your companion faced- the stairs leading to the upper floors. “Oh, you found a seat for me?” No response. Only her incessant pulling. “Alright, I’m going.”

You went upstairs, brushing past the passing crowd on the way. You were met with more people enjoying their meals and zero empty tables. “Sanctuary, I thought there were-” You didn’t get to complete your sentence when the ghost kept tugging at your wrist, its head directed to the stairs going up.

“The rooftop?” As far as you could tell, the rooftop section of the place was reserved for those who booked a spot ahead of time, and even as famous as you are, you haven’t made any reservations so you didn’t get to head upstairs. “Sanctuary, I didn’t plan to eat here. I’m not supposed to go there!”

But your supposed loyal entity remained stubborn as she fully manifested out of you and hovered to the 3rd floor of the restaurant with speed. “Hey!” You sword you’ve never had her disobey you ever throughout the time you had her, but this was a first and it flustered you to this extent. “Come back here!”

You continued up the final flight of stairs and swung open the door leading outside. Fortunately, the place was mostly empty considering the restaurant just opened.

On the other hand, your relief at the lack of people was replaced with embarrassment as you spotted Silent Sanctuary wrapped around a lone, unsuspecting man sitting by one of the tables beside the glass fence.

The person didn’t pick up her presence much like the others, only confused as dictated by the cocked head, furrowed brows, and rigid posture he had due to the binds your ghost companion had on him.

Play it cool. Excuse yourself. You cleared your throat, bringing his attention away from the book in his hand to you. As he stared at you, you stood still, caught off guard at his attractiveness: Slicked-up raven hair, bold jawline, and stunning aquamarine eyes. Was he an actor? You peeked at the built figure beneath his black turtleneck and white coat. Or a model perhaps?

“Yes?” Shit, his voice is deep too.

“Ah hello,” you bowed in courtesy and he did the same with a bob of his head. You steadily approached him, eyeing Sanctuary to let go and get back inside. “I was just looking for a place to eat. The place is crowded down here.”

“There are empty tables beside you,” he said, gruffly.

“Well yeah, but those are reserved so I can’t eat there.”

The stranger cocked his brow and crossed his arms. “You’ve made no reservations and yet you’re here?”

You subtly glared at your invisible companion still hovering close to the man. That seemed to do the trick as the entity reluctantly let go and disappeared. You kept up a calm front and answered, “Listen, I’m on a time crunch right now so I can’t wait for a table downstairs. This place also doesn’t offer take-outs so I figured maybe I could…”

“Share a table?”

“Yeah!… That…” Which was a lie. You did find a table on the first floor and were about to beeline straight to it, but Sanctuary had to intervene at the worst time possible. “And look what we have here; an empty seat in front of you unless you have someone coming-”

“I’m here by myself.”

Unintentionally, you let out a quick “ah” with a clap and nod. “So… can I-”

“No,” The man continued to stare at you, unimpressed. “Not until you clarify how tight your current schedule exactly is. You can return another time when it’s less busy.”

Your mind was running circles trying to come up with excuse after excuse; one that wasn’t entirely false so it alleviated your guilty conscience. But your patience was running thin as your break gradually shortened. “I can’t come back some other time because I have somewhere else to be after today,” you gritted out. “This restaurant’s only available in this part of Tokyo so I want to try their ramen before I leave.”

“You didn’t tell me the details of your current schedule. What if you’re lying?”

You clicked your tongue, pulled down your mask, and took your hat off, revealing yourself to him. “See those groups of people with filming equipment over there?” You pointed to the beach to which he did look over. “I’m part of their team and they’re about to call my ass any minute now.”

For a second, the stranger blinked at you with what you thought was recognition, but then-

“You man the cameras?”

“C-Camera-” At this point, you scoffed with your hands on your hips, tonguing the inside of your cheek as you looked to the sky wishing for more patience. “You really can’t lend a poor bystander a free seat because of some kind of stubborn skepticism?”

“You barged in here and interrupted my peace first.”

“Come on, just this once?” You glanced at the empty bowl on his table. “You’re done with yours so might as well, right?”

“What if I still say no?” He said. “You rude nag.”

You simply stared at him with disbelief and from some gut instinct, you blurted out an audible “asshole” before you realized what you said. You cupped your mouth, stunned, but the stranger didn’t seem insulted by the exchange.

Instead, he was… amused? Surprised?

Just then, your pager beeped wildly from inside your pocket. “Crap, what should I-”

“Alright,” you turned to the man with wide eyes. “You can have that seat.”

A big wave of relief swept across your panicking mind and with a quick word of gratitude, you hurried downstairs to fetch your steaming bowl of ramen.

---

Jotaro didn’t know what to make of his encounter with this… stranger.

It happened so suddenly- one moment he was minding his own business, invested in the detective novel he had in his hand, the next his body felt constricted as if he was bound by invisible ropes, and next a random masked lady barges through the door, appearing frazzled.

Then in the next minute, you’re here trying to persuade him to share a table due to the packed situation of the restaurant.

He should’ve been annoyed. That’s how it’s always been with people who seemed entitled to have everything to themselves or those who crossed his boundaries, but he couldn’t find it in him to be irritated at you. Skeptical sure, but pissed? Not exactly.

Admittedly, Jotaro had no problem sharing the table with you. He was done with his meal and you provided reasonable excuses in a polite manner- A busy worker who wanted a taste of a local delicacy before leaving.

He would’ve gotten up right then and there, but for some reason, he wanted to tease you- rile you up a bit until those polite mannerisms slipped up. What the hell? Why would I do that? Despite his logical reasoning, he continued to reject your approaches and you began to seethe, growing frustrated.

He huffed. Why am I feeling… nostalgic?

And when you removed both your mask and hat, Jotaro paused as he took one good look at you. Wait… you’re- Why do I feel like I’ve seen you before?

It wasn’t from any media he had watched or a published article he’d read. It was somewhere else and it made his chest throb out of the blue. Where?

Then in a fit of understandable anger, you remarked him being an asshole and a hard sense of Deja vu struck him as an image sparked in his head- a school’s rooftop, him in his black school uniform, and a female student saying that same word as she was about to head inside.

“Mind your own business, bitch.”

“Insults won’t get you anywhere, asshole.”

This was supposed to be during his high school years, but as far as he knew, he didn’t go to the rooftop once or talk to another student like in his visions. He smoked outside the school building and ignored any squealing fans that came his way. Jotaro was about to comment on it, but your pager blared and caused you to panic. Looks like the game’s over.

“Alright. You can have the spare seat.” And at your wide-eyed expression and a quick word of gratitude, he had to resist himself from smiling even by a little bit. This isn’t how he’s supposed to behave; tease a stranger and then smile endearingly at them because of a thank you?

But he couldn’t overstay now, not when you’re supposed to be back here any moment now with a huge bowl of ramen, and so he stood, heading to the exit.

On the way, you arrived with your order. He tipped his hat at you and you bowed at him one more time.

And again, Jotaro stopped in his tracks at the feel of his wrist being tugged. Looking down at it, nothing was holding him back. He heard you mutter something and suddenly, the tightness that held him loosened.

He subtly glanced over his shoulder to see you already settled on the seat despite his dirty dishes still on the table. He thought nothing of it other than being content at watching you enjoy lunch and went on with his day.

A server walked up the stairs and Jotaro stopped him before he could enter. “Don’t mind the lady eating at my table. Just take the bowl and clean what needs to be cleaned.”

“B-But sir customers aren’t allowed to,” One firm glare from his eyes cut off whatever the poor guy was about to say. “Noted sir.”

---

It’s been a week since that day and so far, the progress of the shoot has been great.

If you dismissed the number of times you had to ignore the urge to smack your co-star every time he whined about every minor inconvenience, today was productive. Not only were you able to execute your solo scene on your first try, but all the scenes that came with other actors went by smoother than before.

The director wrapped the emotional beach scenes and called it a day. If you recall correctly, the next batch of scenes will take place in some sort of facility since the upcoming scene will feature your character, a scientist specializing in quantum physics, meeting her lover while in the middle of work wanting to patch things up.

However, in the middle of your mini-success, you couldn’t help but think about what Silent Sanctuary did; about why she decided to disobey you and embrace a seemingly random man in the middle of reading his book.

But then your thoughts would further spiral into thinking of the man in the white coat. Why did he look familiar? And… You clutched your chest as you stared at the ceiling. Why do I feel like crying when I think about him again? You shook your head and leaned over to switch off the lamp. Whatever. It’s probably nothing. Just focus on your work.

It took a while for the crew to search for a place to shoot the said scenes. Eventually, they got in contact with one cooperative executive of a research institute within the capital and got their permission to film on their grounds, as long as they didn’t enter prohibited areas and disturb the people doing their jobs.

There were still a couple of paperwork that needed to be done so you were given a bit of time to spend while you waited. You told your manager you wanted to check out a nearby aquarium and what reason could he have to deny you a simple request?

You didn’t know why you wanted to visit an aquarium of all places. Because you liked the ocean but couldn’t see the cute fishes in them? Or was it because of something else like the instinctual tug in your chest?

Your manager didn’t see any problem with your request and brought you to the Sumida Aquarium near the Skytree. He informed you that he’d come back for you in a while and you thanked him for the ride. With that, you went on inside.

After receiving your ticket inside, you fixed the mask you had on and proceeded down the dimmed hallways, sight-seeing the many aquatic life swimming about the area in their glowing tanks with awe. It was fortunate that there were fewer people than you would’ve expected, but you weren’t complaining.

If anything, you were relieved you didn’t have to worry about racking attention from onlooking eyes.

You continued down the dimly lit path underneath the overarching tank that teemed with passing fishes of different sizes and types until you reached what you could assume was the main hall where the aquarium’s biggest tank could be located. “Woah~”

A wide smile grew as you watched a baby whale shark swim by. You stepped closer and placed your hand on the cool surface of the glass, admiring the sheer size of the aquatic creature living its life in this enclosure.

“You’re here again.”

“Hm?” You hummed as you turned to your side, only to widen your eyes as not only did you notice Sanctuary’s fabric stretched out to wrap a random person's wrist, but onto the wrist of the same man in the white coat. “Oh, it’s you! How did I not notice you?”

“Not sure myself. I just felt my wrist get bound out of nowhere and I made an assumption,” he said as he stared at you. “Turns out I was right.”

You cursed under your breath and willed your companion back inside before she could further embarrass you. “By the way,” you started. “I’m sorry for yelling at you at that ramen restaurant. It was entirely rude of me.”

He scoffed. “You just realized?”

“I didn’t know what came over me,” you said. “I don’t know if it was hunger, being tired, or… something else. But I mean it when I say I’m sorry.”

He looked you over and back again at the tank. “Okay then. Apology accepted.”

You beamed. “Really?”

“Do you expect me to make jokes about that?”

“Well no, that was a rhetorical question,” I huffed, crossing my arms. “Gosh, you can be quite the skeptic sometimes.”

“And that’s bad?” You could pick up the smirk from the way he replied.

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “Sometimes.”

For a moment, you and the stranger remained silent and opted to watch the sea life going about their day in the large aquarium before them, sharing the implied mutual agreement to watch them swim by in peace.

Until another large creature came from behind the rock formations and another word of awe slipped past your lips. “Look at that big boy! I didn’t know sting rays were this huge.”

“That’s a female manta ray,” you turn to look at the man who spoke after you. “You could tell because she has no stinger on her tail. It’s female because they’re larger than males as seen as another manta ray swims along her. He has a shorter wingspan and if you observe closely, the smaller ray has those flaps in the pelvic area called claspers, while the bigger manta doesn’t. It’s a way for him to deliver sperm for reproduction.”

You gape at the sudden information he dropped due to your lack of knowledge about rays. “You know your stuff.”

“I’m supposed to. It’s my job,” he diverted his attention back to you. “Marine biologist.”

A drawn-out “oh” was how you responded, and because you wanted to take the chance while he was there, you asked. “If you say so, then say some facts about…” You hummed as you thought about what to ask, and in some part of your brain, you decided on the first and the next. “Clownfishes.”

The man cocked his head and answered with ease. “They’re hermaphrodites. They grow as males but can turn into females when necessary.”

“Jellyfish?”

“There’s a species called Turritopsis dohrnii, or the immortal jellyfish. They can avoid growing old by being able to reverse their biological clock back into a younger stage.”

“Starfish?”

At that, the stranger paused and ruminated over what to say and for a second you thought he’d end up with a blank, but he replied shortly after. “They consume food by extending their stomach out of their mouths and over the digestible parts of their prey like mussels or clams.”

You smiled at the unique knowledge he gave you. “Impressive. Should I contact you every time I spot a funky-looking fish then?”

You were worried for a second thinking he would downplay your lighthearted ask, but a pit in your heart bloomed as the corners of his lips turned up into a small smile. “I doubt I’d pick up. I’m a busy man.”

“You don’t look busy.”

The stranger glanced at you. “On most days.”

At that, you couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle. You didn’t know why but it felt right, more so when the other person huffed with his subtle smile still plastered on his face. “Say,” you started. “Do you want some coffee? My treat. Take it as an additional compensation for the ramen drama.”

The man in the white coat tilted his head, thinking, and answered with a curt “Sure.”

---

Jotaro enjoyed this more than he should.

The second his wrist was in a light grip, he knew you were nearby. You arrived, apologized, and thanked him for accepting it. That should be the end of the conversation, but as he watched your eyes glitter in awe at the passing manta ray, he couldn’t help but remark facts about the creature.

Right then, a wave of Deja vu sparked a faint memory in his head just as it did when you first met him; one that presented the interior of a dimmed submarine, a single circular window, and the same student at the rooftop sitting by it.

“It’s a giant manta ray. For a 20-foot-long fish, they have large brains that are developed similarly to bottlenose dolphins and primates… It’s either swimming around the window because it saw itself or it saw you and is curious about you.”

The vision disappeared a second after it played out in his head and the tug in his chest would start to bother him yet again. It wasn’t a bad thing though. If anything, he’d like to share more information if you wanted. And like cascading water, his mind would continue playing out his voice answering with information about the same animals you said, and he’d vocalize them to you.

Clownfish? They’re hermaphrodites. They grow as males but can turn into females when necessary.

Jellyfish? There’s a species called Turritopsis dohrnii, or the immortal jellyfish, and they can evade old age by reversing their biological clock back into its baby polyp stage. It does so by reabsorbing its tentacles and coming to rest as a blob of undifferentiated cells somewhere on the seafloor.

But as you asked about starfish, his mind would answer differently than he would have. “I actually don’t know much about them yet. But I plan to in the future.” And it confused him for a moment because coincidentally, he was in the process of writing a thesis about starfishes like he planned to when he was still in high school.

And god, when you smiled with total admiration for his expertise, butterflies started to flutter inside and he couldn’t hold back the joy he reciprocated upon seeing you this way. This felt… right.

It would be no surprise that when you offered to buy him coffee to further patch up the scene you caused, Jotaro accepted it almost immediately.

Hence here they were in a neighboring cafe with two glasses of caffeinated drinks and plated sandwiches ready to consume on the table. “Oh gosh, we’ve been talking for this long and we still don’t know each other’s names.” You took a sip of your latte and continued. “I’m Y/N L/N. If you’re an avid media watcher, then you might recognize me.”

He tipped his hat. “Kujo Jotaro and no, I don’t have enough spare time to indulge in films.” But you’re familiar regardless and I’m unsure why.

“Not even an hour or two for yourself?” You asked. “You must have at least switched on the TV at least once and seen a movie that interested you.”

He hummed. “If it bothers you that much, then fine. I do watch documentaries and true crime investigations from time to time.”

“There you go,” you said but in the next second, you pondered out loud. “Did I ever star in crime films? I think… maybe? Or was that more of a romance?”

“Star in them?”

You nodded after you took a bite of your food. “I’m an actress hence why I pointed to the filming crew last time, and why I got insulted when you said I merely manned the camera.”

“Oh,” Jotaro said, a hint of warmth now present in his cheeks as he thought back to that moment. “I… misunderstood then. I apologize.”

“You don’t have to. I did more wrong anyways,” you chuckled. “But you don’t mind me asking what crime films you might’ve watched, do you? I’m curious.”

“Well, let’s see…”

And it went on and on from there. For the ever-focused and present Jotaro to get lost in his conversation was a feat on your part. What started from a simple question about what titles he watched spiraled into threads of other similar topics that all piqued his interest.

What he liked more than the thoughtful exchange between two acquaintances was watching you talk with so much passion. There was always something endearing in the way you would go in-depth without being conscious of the other person. Not only did it ease whatever tension he had about needing to talk back, but also gave him relief knowing when it was his turn to share, you won’t mind it one bit.

But the day has to end sometime and you needed to return and prepare, while he had to resume doing his job. You and he walked side-by-side to the entrance and outside the establishment was another person, waiting by the van. “Guess I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Jotaro nodded. Just then, the tightness around his wrist returned and he gazed back at you. “Hey…”

“Hm?”

You opened your mouth, the words nearly leaving you, but you shook your head and dismissed it. “Never mind. It’s nothing important.” Jotaro doubted that but he won’t force you to tell him if you didn’t want to.

He watched you walk ahead, greeting what he assumed was your manager. The person patted you as he slid the door open for you to enter, but before you did, you waved at Jotaro one last time. He removed one hand from his pocket to raise a goodbye gesture back.

The sky dimmed as his watch hit 6:00 and your van drove off into the distance.

He couldn’t help but hope he’d cross paths with you again.

---

A week passed.

The team arrived on the institute’s grounds miraculously on time, prepping everything until the scene was good to go. You got your make-up and outfit done, just some faint skin makeover to give off a more haggard look combined with your formal fit and lab coat, and met up with the male lead and director on the set.

“Alright, for this scene, I need you to follow after Y/N down these halls up to the part where you both end up in the open area here. I want to hear the desperation in your voice as you do so, got it?” Your co-star waved it off and gave a cocky thumbs-up. “Y/N, I need you to portray stressed out, pissed, but also with a hint of yearning when you try to get him off your tail.”

You nodded. Two out of the three emotions were of no problem when dealing with the guy you worked with.

As you got into place, you dismissed the watching eyes of the passing researchers and focused on the task at hand. Being the center of attention wasn’t anything new. I got this.

“And action!”

You moved at a brisk pace, filing through the many papers on your clipboard as you tried to ignore the pleas of the other lead. Behind the two of them, the cameras followed the duo through the hallways, walking past the background people without breaking away from the actors.

At the ending point, his character grabbed your arm and you react violently, yelling at him that your character needed to be left alone, only to proceed to talk about doing all of these jobs for him and the possibility of a future with them in it.

“Cut!” Immediately, you sighed and stepped out of character. “Y/N, you’re doing phenomenal with the frustrated rage you were letting out, but we need a bit more of the sad, longing aspect to your dialogue. Get emotional and tear up for effect. Or else, the audience might think you’re purely pissed at the guy for disturbing your job.”

You responded with a simple “got it”, however, as you re-took the scene again and again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to get emotional when the man you are responding to wanted to make you roast the living shit out of him. It was unprofessional but with the way he acted ever since the start of the project, you wanted to rip his eyes out and call it quits.

“Y/N,” the director said. “I know you’re co-star is making this hard for all of us, but if we want this scene to be over, you need to express better and give me that release the movie needs.”

You held back a groan and answered an honest “I’ll do my best.”

“Take 5! And action!”

At the click of the clapperboard, you re-did your steps down the halls with your clipboard in hand. “Ayumi, please hear me out! You don’t have to do this!” Cried Isamu but it all fell on deaf ears as you continued to ignore him.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“How often do I have to tell you to leave me alone?!” You yell back, eyes still focused on the papers. “I need to finish this and you’re not helping!”

“Then let me at least try! Please, we need to talk!”

“There’s no point! You intervening will just make things worse!”

Both of you stepped outside and just as you were about to make a run, he grabbed your arm and held you back. You whipped your head back at him, staring at him with furrowed brows. “Why won’t you let me try? Do you hate me that much?”

This was the scene. You had to cry out to him with all the yearning you had, and you tried to find some way to bring such emotions out. You drew out the scene, trying to improvise a speechless act as you looked for ways to tear up.

One look in the corner of your eye and you found Jotaro watching you intently among the background researchers mumbling among themselves. He was stoic as ever, posture lax yet poised with his hands in his pockets, but there was something in the way he watched you that slipped past his stone-like expression. He had his brows furrowed and his lips tight as he never broke eye contact with you.

Your heart started to ache and you were reminded of the man in your dreams, but rather than the vision of him dead, your mind flashed glimpses of the stranger when he was alive. All of them were from your perspective and every one of them was like a memoir of two lovers- flashes of school uniforms and lunches, oceans and sunsets, a joyous wedding, and a budding family.

Were these… Your eyes swelled with tears. My life?

But you realized you were still on set and with the appropriate emotion, you said your lines. “Because I did!” You cried. “I did let you try but every time I let you back in… every time I let myself fall for you again, you die all over again. You don’t know how many times I’ve seen you die.”

“I’m doing all that I can, including putting all my goddamn efforts into this machine, just so I can save what we have.” You continued to sob, pulling away from his hold. You were meant to stare far off into the distance, away from your co-star, but your gaze drifted off to Jotaro instead.

“I promised I’d find you again in another universe but this time when I do, I’ll make sure we’ll never have to suffer the same fate as before.” Finishing that line, you tore away from the biologist’s gaze and back to Isamu with tired, puffy eyes. “So please, let me go and leave me be now you know what’s best for us.”

Isamu said nothing and dropped his hand in defeat.

“And cut! Y/N, that was amazing!” the director clapped his hands and slapped your back. You sniffled and let out an awkward chuckle. “See? I knew you had it in you! I expected nothing less from such a talented actress.”

“Yeah…” You tried to look past him and onto the watching crowd, trying to spot a certain blue-eyed man among the crowd. “Thanks…”

True to his words, the director wrapped up the shooting and applauded everyone with an enthusiastic good job. The crew patted themselves on the back and began to pack everything up, your co-star had already left beforehand as you would’ve expected, and your manager handed you a padded jacket and a steaming cup of coffee. “Took you long enough to get into the mood.”

But you didn’t answer as you kept searching among the moving crowd for his specific white coat and unique hat, but all you saw were the black shirts of the filming crew and the standard white coats of the other researchers that just happened to pass by. Why did you watch me like that? Your chest ached out of the blue and you grew restless. Were you there or did I just imagine you?

“Earth to Y/N-san! It’s about to rain!” You blinked yourself back into reality as you felt a droplet land on your nose. You swallowed and bowed your head in apology to which your manager simply waved it off. “It’s fine, let’s just head back inside.”

You said your farewells to the team as you stepped into a changing room to switch your formal wardrobe with a more casual fit, and after smoothing out your blouse and skirt, you headed to the nearby mirror to make sure your face was free of the make-up from earlier.

One look at your reflection and you stared at yourself with bewilderment, a hand coming up to rake through your hair. “What the hell was that?” You often took pride in your ability to immerse into the scene, be one with your character, and display the intended emotion, but for the first time, whatever it was that you felt- that surge of nostalgia and longing- was real.

Now came into question whether spotting him on the sidelines caused this or was it these emotions that triggered your brain to hallucinate the marine biologist watching you close by as a means of projection.

You shook your head and patted your cheeks. “You’re making this a big deal. It’s probably nothing.”

“Y/N-san! Do you need a ride back? Or do you have other plans?” Your manager said.

“I’ll go home by myself! You can go ahead!”

Pushing past your confused thoughts, you fetched your bag and made your way to the building’s entrance. Walking past the glass doors, the downpour hindered you from going any further. You opened your tote and rummaged around for an umbrella, only for panic to grow as you couldn’t find any.

“L/N-san.” You perked at the voice calling out to you. With one look over your shoulder, you widened your eyes as Jotaro approached you with an unreadable expression. “Looking for something?”

“Kujo-ssi,” you said, cheeks growing warm. “A-Ah yeah. An umbrella actually but I don’t think I brought it with me.”

It was a matter of time until he stopped a few feet away from you. “Here.” You paused and drifted your sight to the closed gray umbrella.

Heat crept up your face as you made a move to grab it with hesitation. “Aren’t you going to need it?”

He shook his head. “I have a spare one.”

You nodded, still dubious, and took the umbrella off his hand. You opened it and took one step forward, only to pause and look to your side and saw Jotaro still standing in place, not making any move to bring out the so-called “spare” from his satchel. He caught you looking and raised a brow in question.

“You don’t have one more, do you?”

He didn’t reply for a solid second, only to clear his throat instead. “I do.”

Sure you do. “Are you busy later?”

Jotaro cocked his head and turned to you. “Why do you ask?”

“Want to get some coffee?” You asked with warm cheeks. “But if you’re busy then it’s fine.”

“Sure,” he said as he glanced at his watch. “I need some caffeine for the late-night meeting. I might as well.”

In an instant, you smiled with relief. “That’s great because now I can do this,” you said as you gestured for the marine biologist to come closer which he did, surprisingly. With him close, you stretched your arm and lifted his umbrella to cover them both. “Now I don’t have to feel guilty over accidentally stealing your stuff. We can walk to the cafe together like this.”

Jotaro huffed with a small smile. “Walk? I can drive us there. If you want, I can also take you to your hotel once we’re finished.”

Your heated face never ceased despite the chilly breeze from the rain. “We still need to get to your car from the parking lot outside so…” You bit your lip. “Walking is technically still part of the journey.”

For the first time since you met him, Jotaro chuckled softly. “I guess it is. And by the way,” he took the stem of his umbrella and held it up higher than you did with ease. “You’re too short to keep us both dry.”

You pouted at his remark. “You could’ve offered earl-”

“We better head there now,” Jotaro said, cutting you mid-sentence. “The nearest cafe is going to close in 30 minutes.”

“Rude,” you moved closer to him as the two of you stepped into the rain. “Now you owe me that ride home.”

“For reminding you?”

“For cutting me off. Thou shall not cut me off mid-speech, understood?”

Jotaro smiled and shook his head. “Good grief.”

---

It was all history from that point moving forward.

One coffee out turned into another hangout, and ever since then, both would frequently find each other despite your hectic schedules, and every time, they’d find an excuse to stay for a bit longer.

Something that started from a simple date at a restaurant spiraled into a sightseeing trip around the rural landscapes of the capital. Once what was a quick exchange of formality between acquaintances, shifted into casual banter between close friends. You even got to meet his sweet mother for tea.

Eventually, somewhere in the middle, you kissed him one fateful evening and he kissed back.

And that would be the last meeting you got with the biologist before he set off to sea to accomplish an on-site dive for a study.

Time seemed to pass faster than usual. You can still remember when you acted out your first scene in Tokyo months ago and here you were now- about to wrap up the last scene to film before sending the footage to the editing department. Everyone in the filming crew cheered among themselves and thanked you for the work you’ve put into the project, complete with a bouquet and a snack truck with your name and image plastered all over.

Even as your manager patted you on the back and offered his “good jobs” and compliments, you could only think of sharing your accomplishments with Jotaro, wanting to huddle close and talk about what was to come next for a leading star. At the same time, he would hold you in his arms as he listened.

But all you could do for now was send a text message for him to read in hopes he would open them when he’s no longer busy. And so you were left by yourself, lost in thoughts and dreams about your repeated visions that stormed your mind. Up to now, you couldn’t remember the name you uttered at the end.

Of the man you held as you died in what appeared to be a past life.

To celebrate the success of the shoot, the director hosted a party a week after where everyone involved in the movie was invited and have a well-earned good time. And you did enjoy your time there; you got to eat a buffet-worth of food, drink as much as you could without getting drunk, and get into wild conversations with the other actors about what their acting experiences were doing this film.

It was only as you were about to head into the van your manager drove did the news arrive. It blared on a skyscraper’s big screen announcing a freak accident that occurred to a research vessel that sent a certain marine biologist into the hospital in critical condition.

Dread poured over you instantly, your heart falling into a deep void as it feared the worst.

Whatever you intended to do that night flew out the window as you told your manager to drive you to the hospital mentioned in the news, and noticing the panic in your voice, he didn’t bother to question you and did what you told him to do.

You bolted out of the vehicle the second it stopped in front of the building’s glass doors. You made a beeline to the nurse’s station and asked where he was, growing frustrated when she told you guests weren’t allowed to visit no matter how many times you tried to tell her he was your boyfriend.

Your efforts were dismissed and all you could do was sit on one of the many chairs in the waiting area, head in your hands as you did your best not to break into hysterics. Your manager stayed put and not knowing how to comfort you properly, he stroked your back in silent reassurance.

From the outside looking in, you shouldn’t be feeling such extreme emotions for someone who you recently met and dated within a short amount of time. Being upset at a loved one’s threatened health is normal, but this was something that hurt you more than it did anyone else.

It was visceral. It induced a gnawing guilt that began to consume you from the core and you didn’t know how to process that when you shouldn’t be feeling such emotion when you didn’t do anything to earn it.

Hours passed and you remained seated even as your manager politely left an hour ago. By some blessing made by whatever greater deity was there, an equally distraught Holly found you in tears upon hearing the news, and with the loving touch of a mother, she wrapped you in a warm embrace and you did the same.

She led you to where her son’s room was and upon entering through the door, you bit your lip as the tears began to swell in your eyes seeing your lover’s current condition- unconscious and bandaged heavily on one side of his face with an oxygen mask fixed on his face.

Knowing you, Holly gently encouraged you to sit by his side and gave you ample time to stay with him alone before leaving the room, closing the door with a soft click.

You let out a shaky exhale as you gently reached for his hand, bringing it to your lips to kiss the knuckles and enclosing it with your other hand. “Why am I hurting this much?” You muttered. “I’ve known you for months and yet it feels like years. I feel like I’m going to die seeing you like this.”

You held his hand tight as you laid your forehead on it, praying for him to wake as soon as he could. Little did you know, you slept throughout the night in this dim hospital room still in the outfit you wore from the party.

And then you were in that dream once more, witnessing the rushing waves and moving skies yet again. However, you were an active viewer of the experience and with your conscious dream state, you looked over at the fallen allies lying on the ocean surface, and in front of you was… him.

You couldn’t be more stupid when you didn’t recognize him at first glance, but as if the veil had been removed, you saw his face in clear daylight.

All those visages of high school up to marriage were with him and only him. You knew now the last piece of the puzzle. His name.

The man in the white coat and ripped hat.

“Jotaro.”

---

He was drowning.

Jotaro couldn’t even bring it in himself to do anything as he let the sea drag him to the depths. Perhaps, this dream made sense considering what had happened during his recent dive: It happened underwater, his face got cut against a rocky wall of jagged edges, and he became unconscious.

But this felt different as if this dream was a disjointed memory that wasn’t his but it was at the same time.

He wasn’t wearing the diving gear he’d usually use, but a purple coat with gold accents and a ripped hat that had the same color as his fit. He was blind in one eye as he had expected and with his functioning eye, he watched as red trailed up from his gash.

Was this vision a sign that he was simply going to drown for the rest of his life? And why did he feel guilt when no one was involved but himself?

Jotaro should be doing something to get out of this situation, swimming to the surface and taking a breath, but he felt numb as if he was stuck in a cold paralysis. He wasn’t in control of his body but he could sense the dull pain and fatigue putting him in this bind.

‘I see how it is…” He stopped resisting and let his eyes close, accepting that this was his fate.

But a sudden warmth came to him in a heartbeat. Muffled by the water, a gentle chime of a music box strung itself for Jotaro to hear. ‘What… was this?’ Then there was that familiar tightness wrapped around his wrist that led to him opening his eyes.

And there you were, your hand holding his wrist.

There was fondness dripping from the way you looked at him, a sad smile gracing your features even as you let yourself be engulfed in the cold water alongside him.

No words were said as you swam closer to him, reaching forward to cup his cheek with your free hand, and even amid the watery void, seeing the surface become out of reach, Jotaro smiled as he moved his hand to engulf yours. On both yours and his hands, a wedding ring adorned your ring fingers and it was this moment, he realized.

‘It was you.’

He pulled you to him and wrapped you in a warm embrace, burying his face on your shoulder. You did the same as you held him tight.

And now, even as they sink to the darkest depths of the abyss, he won’t be alone. At least they had each other and that’s all he needed.

---

You wake with tears rolling in your eyes and with your sudden realization, you shot upright and turned to Jotaro sitting up as well, with a hand gently touching his affected face with the bandages that covered it undone and on his lap.

“Jotaro-ssi…” He paused and shifted his attention to you, slowly lowering his hand to reveal the aftermath of his accident.

It was the exact injury you constantly saw in your dreams; the same vertical scar that ran down the right side of his face with the injured eye now dull and glassy. It’s really you. You hid your mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle a sob. “You’re awake.”

“Y/N…”

Through a blurred vision, you looked at him as he grazed your hand with his. Without hesitation, you held it tight and brought his palm to your lips. He huffed, hearing the smile as he did. With a gentle caress of his thumb on your cheek, he said.

“I found you.”

[bunni-v1]

Cureé

Chapter 4: Questions Answered, Fears Realized Previous Chapter||Next Chapter

TW: None(?); Reader and Vil have a strenuous relationship

Info: Ace, Deuce, and Reader (platonic); Vil and Reader (familial); Rook x Reader; Reader has a lil crush on Riddle; Reader has a BIG crush on Rook

Word Count: 8.5k words

🍓As promised, here is chapter 4! It took so long to write because it's pretty long itself... Still, I hope it's enjoyable! Love you all <3

Taglist: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing @roseinbloom02 @savanaclaw1996 (please let me know if you wish to be added/removed!)

You woke up in a cold sweat, your dreams were filled with monsters made of ink destroying your city and beady red eyes watching your every move. You groan, the sun burning your eyes with its unwelcome presence. You wished you had the royal power to demand the sun rise later in the day, but alas your influence could not change the universe. It could hardly change anything in the first place.

Reluctantly, you rolled over on your side, glaring at your clock—ten in the morning. You overslept. With an annoyed sigh, you sat up and angrily moved around the room, dressing yourself in something more light and casual than your maids would normally have you. After ensuring you looked half presentable, you stepped into the hall to be greeted by your delightful companion Ace.

“You look awful,” he says plainly.

“Good morning to you too, Ace. What a pleasure to see you today.” You snark back.

“I think you look fine princess,” Deuce tried to soothe, but you sent him a glare, “Nevermind.”

You slump down the hallway to the main dining room – which was quite a walk from here – practically radiating exhaustion with each step. You serfs and maids gave you a wide berth, while your guards practically stepped on your toes with how close they were.

“Could you two give me space.” You say, sharper than you intended.

Deuce diligently steps back, but Ace pushes his shoulder into yours playfully.

“What crawled up your ass this morning.”

You sigh, rolling your head back in annoyance, “I hardly slept last night. Too many night terrors… and an odd encounter that I’m still not positive wasn't a dream…”

Deuce gave you a soft pat on your back, falling back into step beside you, “We heard from Trey.”

“Of course you did…” You sigh.

“Listen, speaking as your friend,” Ace begins, “if this… thing is causing you so much stress, why worry about it at all.”

“Because it concerns the safety of my people! I can’t stand by where their lives could be in danger. What ruler would I be if I allowed them to die knowingly?” You exclaim.

The two of them shared a look, then Deuce spoke, “A pretty typical one, actually…”

You groan, running your fingers through your hair, “I don’t want to be ‘typical’, I want to be good! More than good, I want to be great! Loved, even!”

Another look, longer this time, as neither of them could come up with something to say. You smoothed over your hair, then took a deep breath, and gave both of them an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be taking my anger out on you. You’ve been helpful this whole time,” you sigh out, “It’s just… brick wall after brick wall here. I’m growing weary.”

Ace hums, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “Then… why don’t we look outside the castle?”

You hadn’t considered the idea, for some reason, too caught up in your head to be rational. If magic was essentially naught in the castle, you’d just have to look elsewhere for it. Though… where you could look was very few and far between. Magic was also banned to the common folk, but you’d heard whispers of magic shops run illegally in the shady parts of town. Perhaps you could find a lead there.

“That's… a great idea actually,” you respond, slowly, “thank you.”

First, however, you were late to breakfast with your brother. Who you are confident has been sitting at the dinner table patiently this whole time, because as busy as he is, he is just as stubborn about the time he spends with you. It was flattering! If only you weren’t anticipating the lecture you would get for your sleeping habits. 

You enjoyed a few more moments of idle prattle with your friends until you arrived at the grandiose doors to the dining room. You bid Ace and Deuce farewell, promising to save a few pastries for them, and then stepped into the room where your brother sat – visibly annoyed. Still, he managed to make the wrinkle in his brow and the curl of his lip stunning. His beauty was magical, and you considered for a moment that it truly may have been but banished the thought as it came.

“I have other things to attend to, you know,” he drawls, scowling.

“And yet, you’re still sitting here,” you respond, taking your seat next to him with a smile.

As if he cannot remain angry with you – which you know he cannot – he laughs under his breath and reaches over to fix your still-tousled hair. 

“You look awful,” he comments, “are you not getting sleep.”

You sigh, swatting his hands away, “I… have been having night terrors.”

“Night terrors again? Have you spoken to one of our doctors, I’m sure they may have something to help.” He worries.

“It’s… not that simple. I am fine. I would tell you if something was of concern.” You ease with grace, taking his hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

He smiles at you, worries not quite out of his face, and squeezes your hand back. As he does so, the head chef and several other members of the kitchen staff flood the room and fill the table with delightful breakfast foods. Your favorites, meaning Vil was going to drop something awful on you while you ate.

You thanked the staff, loading up your plate in excitement, taking note of the things Ace and Deuce would enjoy as you did so. Of course, they would both eat anything on the table with delight, but you had to be careful about how much you brought out of the room. The head chef did not enjoy it when you ate outside of the dinner room – silly if you were to say anything about it, but you respected your staff and the hard work they did.

“So?” You ask.

Vil raises a brow at you, swallowing down his food, “So…?”

“Don’t be coy. You have something to tell me, so tell me.”

“I thought maybe we could eat before I ruined the mood…” He sighed.

You smirked, “So it is something bad.”

“It isn’t bad,” he corrects, “you just wouldn’t like it.”

You give him an indifferent hum, “Just tell me, it’ll make things easier.”

He sighs, again, and sets his silverware down, straightening himself out before finally speaking, “I have requested that your suitors have dinner together with you and me… which, of course, requires your attendance.”

You purse your lips, poking at the eggs on your plate, “When would this dinner be?”

“Two days from now…” he pauses, thinking for a moment, then adding, “I thought it would be a good chance for you to get to know them…”

You give him an odd look, “I do know most of them, you know. I do my research.”

“Get to know them outside of books and half-assed conversation,” he corrects snarkily, earning a laugh from you at his sudden swearing. Very unlike your brother.

“Okay, okay… I will be there. Only if I can sit near Rosehearts.” You bargain.

“Why him?”

“He has been…” you think over how to put it. When compared to the social recluse of Idia, the asshole that is Leona, and whatever Malleus’ deal was Riddle seemed to be the easiest to talk to. “Not unpleasant. And I would like a chance to properly talk to him about equestrians.”

“He likes equestrians?” 

“Very much so, yes.”

Your brother hums, “That… would make a lot of sense. I’m sure I could see that done, so long as you will actually show.”

You frown, “Who do you take me for? I would never not show.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, and you scoff, deciding to go back to eating instead of arguing about it. The food is delicious, and the conversation you have with your brother is also nice. Your new guards, his responsibilities, the state of the village people. Regular things.

He finds the stories you tell of Ace and Deuce to be amusing, though you have to assure him that they do protect you. You pointedly avoid telling him about what exactly you’ve been researching so adamantly, despite his attempts to figure it out. He is busy, as usual, and is very quickly running out of niceties for your suitors who are… exhausting. As expected. Of course, he discusses the reports he receives about the village, and you give him the gossip you’ve managed to overhear from castle staff and visitors. It’s so normal, it's almost as if he isn’t hiding a potentially deadly secret from you.

Of course, you cannot help but ask about Epel, despite just having seen him. You blame the itching curiosity to see what his excuse might be.

“How has Epel been, by the way, I have not seen him in a while,” you say, eyeing your brother carefully.

His eyebrow twitches, and you can tell he does not have a good excuse to give, “I… have been keeping him busy.”

“To keep him from me?” you push.

You can tell you’ve won from the way his mouth turns into a thin line, he cannot lie his way out of this one, “Precisely.”

“Why? He is my closest friend, you know that.”

He considers his answers for a long moment, before sighing, “I- He is a very headstrong person, as are you. I don’t want a repeat of what happened that night.”

You tense. Did he know what you saw? Did Epel tell him? Surely Epel would’ve told you if he did, he wouldn’t leave something important like that out, would he? 

“It was just… a bear larger than we were used to,” you quickly lied, hoping to the sevens your brother would just take it.

To your relief, he doesn’t seem to argue, though you can see the suspicion in his eyes, “It was dangerous. I will not lose another one of my blood to that forsaken forest.”

“The hunters from the village go in there all the time, what is so different when I go hunting.” You argue.

“Because,” he says sharply, and you know you’ve reached the end of his patience, “you are the princess. You have a responsibility to the kingdom, and no matter how skilled you are, one mistake could cost your life. I will not lose my family again, and I will not allow our people to mourn another member of the royal court.”

Something in you – resentment that has been building for quite a while – bubbles up out of your throat before you can stop it. 

“I have no responsibility, though! I am…” you struggle to find the words, waving your hand frustratedly in the air, “useless to this kingdom.”

“You aren’t–”

“I am! You do not let me be anything more than a pretty face and a… bargaining piece! I am nothing more than an object for your political game!” You finally get out, “Everyone here is!”

Saying it aloud makes you feel amazing, but the dread that replaces the relief as you watch your brother's expression reach a boiling point is far worse than the tension from before. Vil cannot school his expression, and even if he could, the whiteness on his knuckles around his silverware was enough to give away his anger.

“You do not have responsibility…” he starts, slowly, “because you still throw tantrums, and you cannot seem to understand just how important your role is. Some sacrifices must be made as the princess.”

You bite back your response, shoving your plate away from yourself. You were not hungry anymore. “I understand,” You pause, before adding, “Your Majesty.”

The hurt that crosses Vil’s face is almost liberating, but you decide you won’t be staying around to take it in. 

“I’m no longer hungry. I’ll grab some leftovers for later.” You say coolly.

“You won’t be joining me for dinner?” Vil asks, voice uncharacteristically small.

“I don’t believe either of us wants that right now.”

You collect two plates full of leftovers for your guards – under the guise that it was for yourself – and quickly storm out into the hall before the head chef could see. When you get back to your room, you present them to your friends with a bright smile, and they practically drool as they take the delicacies out of your hands. Watching them eat is… unpleasant, but you're happy to see them so happy. It makes you feel just a little better.

You can tell that they know you’re upset, but they are kind enough not to mention it. They’d learned not to ask about what happens between you and your brother, for both your sake and theirs. Instead, they keep light conversation – mostly about how good the food is, and how they wish they were royalty.

“So,” Ace starts, mouth full, “When are we heading out for the village? Later this week?”

“Today!” You say excitedly, “Which reminds me, I should probably dress down a bit more.”

“I’m sorry your majesty,” Deuce interrupts, “Today? Don’t you have to request permission to leave?”

“Yes, to both! Which is exactly why we won’t be requesting permission!” You announce proudly, and the two of them stare at you in disbelief.

“Woah, is goodie-two-shoes going bad on us, Deuce?” Ace laughs.

“I think they may be, Ace.” Deuce responds.

You scoff, rolling your eyes at them, “Shut up, and once you’re done eating go dress in casual clothes and meet me outside at the fountain. We’ll be sneaking out through the back gates since they’re less heavily guarded.”

They share another look, shrug, and go back to wolfing down their plates.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

As soon as they were finished with their plates, you tossed on the absolute plainest clothes you owned. A simple dress with no elaborate stitching, no silk, no velvet. Just a regular dress, one you bought because you saw so many young girls wearing it around the village once. It was the most comfortable thing you owned, you wished the fancy things you owned could be pretty and comfortable like this one.

You washed the makeup from your face, threw what hair you could back, and tossed a cloak on top for extra measure. Giving yourself a final look over, you smiled. You looked like a normal person. From the corner of your eye, you spotted the hat the huntsman gave you so long ago. It had become a confidence booster of sorts recently, but the deep purple and the feather stood out a bit too much to consider bringing it along. 

Shrugging to yourself, you gently run a finger over the feather and then turn to leave. Perhaps you’ll wear it out some other day.

You made your way to the fountain as swiftly and stealthily as possible, and very quickly ushered your friends out and around the castle walls. Easier than you expected it to be, but you were not going to complain about it. 

You practically skipped down the roads of the city, taking in the beauty of its simple architecture. Sure, you had it great up in the castle, and if you were living here you’d want to be in the castle instead, but you truly did wish you were born in the city. The bustle of your citizens chattering to each other and the smell of fresh baked goods flooded the streets. It was an experience you could never wish to have back at home.

You weren’t here for that, though. No, you were here to get more answers. 

“Where are we heading,” Ace asked for the umpteenth time.

“I told you I can’t tell you, it’s a secret.”

“You having secrets, little goodie-two-shoes you?” he snarked.

“Yes, even I have secrets. Besides, these people are seedy.”

“Is this safe princess,” Deuce asked, a bit weary.

“It should be, I just want to be sure.”

Ace scoffed, and you sent him a glare. 

“You’re running us around in circles again, Princess. Maybe this whole thing is fake and you’re freaking out for no reason.”

“It is real Ace,” Deuce said before you could, with a confidence you had never held on the subject at hand. “I mean– if the princess says it’s real, it must be,” he quickly added. 

You smiled, “Thank you, Deuce. Anyway, Ace, I’ll buy you whatever you’d like after this if you’d just stop your whining.”

“Deal,” he said all too fast, earning an eye roll from both you and Deuce.

The three of you continued on your path, taking turns down several roads until you started to wander through the back alleys. These streets were dark and damp, the walls of buildings worn down and crumbling after years of disrepair. Very few people were out here, and those that were kept their heads held low. Ace and Deuce stayed close to your side, and you were grateful you asked them to come with you. 

You tugged your cloak to cover more of your face. You’d only heard of this place when researching your citizens' daily lives – a few of them known to practice magic under your brother's nose (not that you cared) – actually visiting was terrifying. You almost wanted to turn back and call it a day. Still, you were doing this for the greater good of your people, so you’d have to suck it up and be a proper ruler.

Eventually, among the winding alleyways, you finally stumbled across your destination. A hole-in-the-wall shop, its sign read “Mr. S’s Mystery Shop” in faded cursive, a little hat atop ‘Mr. S’s’. Charming, you thought. The door was made of pretty mahogany, worn down from water damage and sun exposure over the years. Despite its wear and tear, it was still the nicest-looking shop in this area, and that put your nerves slightly at ease.

Smiling, you turned to your guards, “This is it!”

Ace eyed you up and down. Deuce looked horrified.

“What,” you asked, “why are you looking at me like that?”

Ace scoffed, “We did all this secretive stuff just for you to take us to a souvenir shop?”

You frowned, “It’s not a souvenir shop, it’s a magic shop, and we’re going to go in and find clues.”

“Like we’re detectives or something?” Ace said, dripping with sarcasm.

“Yes, like we’re detectives ‘or something’,” you snapped back, “if you have a problem with it you can stay out here, but if something happens to me you’ll have to explain to Rosehearts why you weren’t doing your job.”

Deuce snickered at your words, earning him a smack from Ace, but Ace didn’t argue any further, trudging along behind you and Deuce. Satisfied with this, you turned back to the shop and pushed open the door.

The first scent that hit you was warm, like firewood burning at a campfire. The next was an array of earthy tones, reminding you of your time spent in the woods. It was oddly comforting coming from a place like this. 

Inside looked much better than outside, you could say that for certain. While the building was broken down and the shelves were cluttered with an array of magical items, it was clean and cozy. The shop itself was small, only allowing for around five or six people at a time. Its hardwood floors were creaky and scuffed from years of boots stepping all over it. The decorations consisted of different types of animal bones and hide hung about the wall. Perhaps the shop owner was a hunter as well.

In the corner of the shop was pretty purple carpeting and a cozy little chair – you assumed to sit and read some of the books on display. Each book was labeled something magic-related, carefully bound, and wrapped in stained leather. The shop was… charming! Cute in a way that only something like this would be. You almost felt welcomed, if the threat of this being a black market wasn’t in the back of your mind the whole time.

The shopkeep wasn’t behind the counter. there was no one in there except for the three of you. Frowning, you glanced around again, taking in what was on the shelves this time. Along the back wall behind the counter were several vials filled with liquids. Each vial was a different color, some pink and sparkling, others deep green and almost powdery. Potions. From what little you knew about magical practice, these were the most commonly used – some doctors were even permitted to make magical potions to help with difficult diseases.

On the counter were several trinkets, all of varying types – like souvenirs you might find in hot tourist spots. The whole shop felt like a tourist trap, which made you resolve to waiver a bit. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. 

Ace nudged your shoulder, pointing to a shelf with a collection of magical pens and staves, all with a shimmering gem at the top. They were pretty, each crafted with painstaking detail, and each very not legal for use. Though, you supposed purchasing them wasn’t illegal in any way. The use of magical pens and staffs were outlawed nearly as soon as your brother came to power. You’d seen a few in your lifetime, namely your fathers when you were very little, but this was your first time seeing them so close. Despite your better judgment, you wandered over to get a better look.

Each had a unique design. While the pens generally didn’t differ too much, outside of the type of pen or the color, the staves were something magnificent. Hand carved out of various types of woods, polished to perfection. The gems were held firmly at the top, some by ferocious beasts like lions and wolves, while others were cradled in the pretty paws of black cats. You had no idea that the magic market here was large enough for such variation.

Ace, who had been standing next to you, plucked one off the wall. You sucked in a breath as if it would explode the second he touched it, but nothing happened. He grinned and waved it at you.

“You scared?” he teased, waving it in your face.

“No.”

“Then take it.”

He shoved it at you, and you jumped back into Duece's chest. He steadied you gently, swiping the staff from Ace’s hands. You expected him to put it away, but instead, he carefully offered it up to you. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Ace just wants to show you that magic isn’t going to hurt you,” he eased gently, “right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he drawled, “listen, Princess, both Deuce and I think it’s really weird how you don’t know anything about magic. There’s nothin’ to be scared of with this stuff, it’s not gonna eat you or anything.”

You took a deep breath in, “I dunno, I mean… there must be a reason Vil kept me away from it all my life.”

The two of them shared a look, then Ace said, “If I may speak freely, your brother sucks. Everyone in his stupid little court sucks.”

Deuce nodded along, “I wouldn’t say they suck, but I do think that your brother hasn’t been honest with you about all this magic stuff. Even Ace and I know a little bit of magic – most people do. Didn’t you have magical lessons when you were younger?”

You frown and nod, “I did. Before my parents died my father was teaching me magic, but after they passed Vil put in place statewide restrictions and banned me from using magic. I’ve… sort’ve forgotten how to do it at all.”

Ace hums, “Seems like your brother has an issue with doing that to you.”

Deuce nodded, giving you a pitying look, “We aren’t gonna force you, but as your temporary guards we have to keep you safe and let you know you will always be safe. We would never put you in harm's way, you know that Princess.”

That was… oddly knightly of Deuce. You knew he was right. Truthfully, if this was so dangerous the two of them likely would’ve been fighting harder to keep you away from this stuff. Or maybe not, but they wouldn’t willingly force a dangerous magical item in your hands – not with the threat of Riddle and your brother at their backs.

You swallowed, taking one more deep breath, then reached out to grab the staff from Deuce. You closed your eyes in anticipation of something happening, but instead, there was nothing. Just a big polished black stick in your hand. You opened your eyes to both Ace and Deuce smiling at you. Curiously, you examined the staff in your hands. 

Since it had been stained black, you couldn’t tell what kind of wood it was, but it was sturdy. The gem was a pretty sparkling green, held in the paws of a rather charming-looking fox. You flipped it a few times in your hands, liking the way it felt. You waved it around a few times, laughing at the ridiculousness of your fear in hindsight, then firmly stamping it on the ground and striking a dramatic pose.

“How do I look? Like a magician?” you joked.

“You look ridiculous,” Ace laughed, clutching his sides as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

Deuce seemed to agree with how hard he was laughing. Normally you would be offended, but you found the whole situation too silly to be angry about it. You laughed along with your companions, reveling in the normalcy of the moment.

“It suits you,” a voice sounded from behind you, scaring the three of you out of your laughter.

There was now a man behind the counter. He was of average height with dark skin, highlighted by bone-like markings across his face and chest. His playful purple eyes scanned the three of you as if he were sizing you up – he likely was. He was wearing a lot of magenta, from his vest to his little top hat, matching the vibe of the shop. He was the most interestingly dressed man you’d ever seen.

It took you a moment to react to what he said, and when you did you scrambled to put the staff back. Ace and Deuce also quickly straighten themselves out. Seems the three of you got the same intimidating vibe from this guy.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said lightly, “you did look good with the staff.”

You chuckled awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers, “I appreciate it, sir.”

“No need for such formalities, you can call me Mr. S,” he said boisterously, “here at my mystery shop I sell anything and everything magical. What can I help you find?”

You stared at him like an idiot for a long moment, blinking as if you were waiting for him to read your mind. You might’ve been convinced that he could if you were less educated. You quickly composed yourself, clearing your throat, and walking forward to meet him at the same level.

“I was looking for books,” you said.

“I have plenty of books, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Ah– Uhm, books on magical creatures, to be specific.”

“Such as Fae?”

“More… obscure. I’m looking into more…” you lean in, whispering as if it would get you in trouble. “dangerous creatures… if that makes sense?”

He smiled, squinting his eyes and you and nodding along, “Oh yes, I see what you’re getting at. What dangerous creatures might you have in mind?”

You bite at your lip, you feel like a child, “Uhm… inky ones?”

You half expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t, instead, he smiles at you, “I see. I think I might be able to help you out.”

Quickly, he headed into the back of his shop. You share a look with your companions, and he’s back in only a short few moments. He urges the three of you closer, to which you comply, and sets a large tome on the counter. It was wrapped in brown leather with – what you assumed was – a magical rune on the front. On its back was a collection of words you had never studied before – magical spells you assumed. You went to open it, but Mr. S swiped it away.

“No previews, unfortunately.”

“How are we supposed to know you’re not cheating us,” Ace chimes in.

“You won’t,” he replied with confidence, “I cannot guarantee the objects aren’t cursed or enchanted, nor can I promise they’re safe to use. I can, however, say for certain I’ve never failed to give a customer what they want. ” 

He sends you a wink, and you don’t like how it makes you feel. Still, this is your only hope, and you don’t want to waste any opportunities. Before you can speak though, Deuce chimes in.

“What about those books on the shelves over there? They’re magical right, they should work just as well.”

The man hums, “Astute, but not quite. Those only contain the basic magical creatures, if you want to find what you’re looking for, this is the book for you.”

“Why? Is there a reason this particular creature wouldn’t be in other magical books?” You ask nervously.

‘Mr. S’ eyes you, smiling like you already know the answer, “His Majesty has made very sure this one is kept under wraps.”

You took a moment to think. This man could be scamming you, trying to get free and easy money… or he could be lying. You’d never know unless you bought the book, and you had no budget to worry about, being the princess. 

“Alright, we’ll take the book. How much.”

“Smart,” he practically purrs, “hundred-thousand thuramarks.” 

“What,” Ace and Deuce shouted, clearly appalled.

You, however, ignored them and pulled out your little wallet from your bag. You counted out the money and realized that you could only give him more or less, and you doubted this man would want to give you change.

“I have one-fifty, would that suffice?”

“More than enough,” he says, taking the money greedily, “I’ll give you the little staff you were looking at earlier for that price.”

You hesitated… it would be hard to hide getting into the castle… but you did like the way it felt in your hands. Besides, you didn’t want to spend so much and walk away with only the book.

“Deal,” you glanced over at the wall of magical pens, “aren’t those illegal, though?”

He grinned, counting up the bills you gave him, “Nothing in my shop is illegal to buy.”

“Clever business you’ve got here,” you compliment.

“Must be, to attract the princess.”

You flush, “Is it obvious?”

“Only up close,” he assures, smirking.

You took the book, and shoved it in your bag, giving the shopkeep your thanks. Ace plucked the staff off the wall as he passed, waggling it around playfully. Deuce slapped his hand, and he scowled, smacking him back. You had to dodge several of their attacks, caught in the crossfire.

As the three of you opened the door, the shopkeeper called out to you, “Princess, do be careful. Some things are hidden from us for a reason.”

You give him a nervous nod, and the door shuts behind you.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

The three of you step into the alleyway, and Ace is immediately upon you, trying to pull the book out of the bag. You grab the staff out of his hand and give him a harsh smack on the head with it, pulling your cloak down for a moment as he backs off. Deuce gives him another firm slap on the other side of his head, and you laugh at the groan that leaves Ace’s mouth.

“What was that for?” He whines, rubbing at both sides of his head.

“Being an idiot,” Deuce says plainly, earning another laugh from you.

“Okay, let's take a look at this thing,” you announce, pulling the book out, “to make sure we weren’t scammed, at least. We can read more when we get back to the castle.”

The two of them nod, huddling around your cloaked figure to get a good look. The book was old, pages yellowed and wrinkled with years of use and damage. The leather cover was rough and peeling apart, but the sigil on the front was still proudly shining in gold. You could feel where you held it from the back that there were other sigils stamped into the leather. Your fingers tingle as you run your fingers over its front – a ticklish sensation that is oddly pleasant.

With one last big breath, you flip the cover open and decide to thumb through the pages. True to his word, this seemingly was the book you wanted, each page detailing a different magical beast – some more ferocious than others – until you come across the exact monster you’ve been looking for. You freeze, as does Deuce.

Ace points at the page, “This is it?”

You nod.

“You… saw that thing? In the forest?” He asks again.

You swallow hard and nod, “Yes, it… it was a bit different, but the same general look.”

“Phantoms, also known as Blot Monsters,” Deuce read aloud, “the remnants of overzealous magicians.”

Just like the mysterious man had told you. You weren’t crazy! It was real… you let out a sigh, and Ace brought a hand up to pat your back.

“Sorry for doubting you,” he apologizes, sincerely.

You shake your head, hands trembling as you close the book. You couldn’t look at it any longer for fear of your head exploding.

“I would’ve doubted myself a few weeks ago, I can’t blame you.” You forgive with a little smile, “Now, let’s head back to the castle so we can read this in private.”

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

The three of you now sat in your room, the book sat on the little tea table in front of you. You would’ve taken the library, as usual, but that felt too risky. So, you settled on your private quarters. You’d set your new staff on the bed for now, opting to deal with hiding it later.

The book itself was settled in the middle of the table, open to the correct page, the three of you just staring at it stupidly. The book hardly had any more information on the creature than what you knew. ‘Remnants of the souls of magicians who overextended their magical capacity, only contained/killed with magic of a similar prowess.’ It was more of a confirmation of what you had assumed logically and only made you feel more nervous that there were surely more in the forest – near your people, and your brother must know about it.

“What now,” Deuce poses.

You bite at your lip, “I don’t know… we can’t tell Vil.”

The two of them shared a look that you did not see. Your fingers slid over the ink on the page, feeling an odd tingle as you did so. Ace’s hand came to rest on your shoulder and Deuce’s on the other. 

“We’ll figure something out, Your Majesty,” Deuce assured, squeezing your shoulder.

Ace doesn’t say anything for a long moment, glaring hard at the page, “Maybe… Riddle knows something about this?” He says tentatively.

You glance up at him, then return to the page, “Why do you think that?”

He hesitates, “I mean, he is a practiced magician, he’s been learning since he was a baby and he knows his stuff.”

You nod, well aware of the fact. Not practicing magic was more strange than practicing it – at least in other kingdoms. Rosehearts was renowned as a magician, and your brother openly detested the fact (the hypocrite he was, as you’ve come to learn). Still… your interaction with Leona a few days ago was fresh in your mind.

“He may not believe it's real – Leona didn’t, and he’s far more practiced than Rosehearts is. No offense to him.” You argue.

‘“It’s always worth trying,” Deuce chimes in, “and… if he doesn’t… well maybe you can show him this? He’s not the type to just laugh in someone's face like Prince Leona is.”

“If he does, though, I’ll defend your honor,” Ace jokes, flexing his arm playfully.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics, “You both raise very good points… Perhaps I will bring it up to him. It’s an excuse to ask about those horse riding lessons he offered me as well.”

They shared a high-five over your head, and you pointedly ignored it despite how loud it sounded through your room. You looked back at the book, a conflicted frown growing on your face, before turning to your friends with a sad smile. Even if things were bleak, you still had options and people supporting you. That was all you needed. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, “I appreciate it, truly. Could you… give me a moment alone, though. I just need to think.”

The two of them nodded, Deuce giving you one last squeeze before they left – likely to redress in their uniforms before Rosehearts found them. You let out a long sigh, moving to your bed so you could lie down and feel useless more comfortably. The staff sat where you left it, the green gem sparkling in the light of the setting sun. 

You’d accepted the staff without a second thought but now realized that it was a waste. You couldn’t do magic, let alone use such a pretty staff for it. It was just… a waste. Much of what you’d been doing felt like a waste. Everything led to dead ends and nothing was moving you forward, you couldn’t help your disappointment.

As you observed the staff closer, you realized it was familiar in some ways. The color and the style reminded you of something you’d seen a long time ago when you were still just a little girl. You smiled as you remembered your mother had one just like this. It was her pride and joy, and she would take it everywhere. 

How you missed her. If she were here with you, she would know just what to do to make everything alright. She would take you up in her arms and swaddle you in the thickest, fluffiest blanket she could find in the castle and read all those fairy tales you used to love. You wondered if you still had them. After she passed she gave all of her books to you, but looking at them was too painful so you stuffed them away in your closet.

You wondered listlessly if she would be proud of you for doing what you could with what you had. All the castle staff told you stories of how she was a free spirit. She would rebel against her family's wishes as a young peasant girl, which is how she caught your father's eye in the first place. She was incredibly smart too, and you knew she used to be the head of magic research until your brother “shut it down”.

Everyone said you were just like her – same passion and rebellious spirit, always breaking the rules and doing what you liked. You didn’t think so, though. Sure, you went against your brother's wishes sometimes, but you rarely did anything daring until recently. You were weak-willed, and you hardly had half the power and influence she had.

You rolled onto your side, deciding you’d like to look out into your beloved forest as you moped. It used to bring you comfort, but now all you felt was apprehension. The monster you saw was gone, sure, but the fact that it existed was enough to scare the life out of you. Because if it could exist once, it means that it could exist again. It means it could exist now and that your people could be in danger and you were wholly useless up in your room.

“How pathetic,” you murmured, glaring at the tops of the trees.

As you lay there, something… peculiar catches your ear. Rustling, just below your window. You ignore it, in favor of closing your eyes, but a rhythmic tapping comes from your window. You ignore it for as long as you can before it annoys you too much and you open your eyes to glare at what you assumed would’ve been an offending tree branch.

What you actually see, is a man – a human being, perched gracefully on the sill of your window. In your shock, you nearly scream, until your brain connects and recalls just who it is sitting there, and suddenly you’re grinning. He smiles back at you, charming as ever, and points at your lock.

You stare dumbly for another long few moments, then scramble to open the window for him. He steps in, still wearing that mischievous smile, and takes in your room. You are now far too aware of the stuffed animal collection you’ve kept in the corner since you were ten, as well as the mess your bed is – having rolled around in it miserably just before he came.

If he notices, he does not show it, smiling as he speaks, “Charming, much like the owner.”

In all your stunned idiocy, all you can manage to get out is, “You’re back!?”

He turns to you, placing a gentle hand on your head and ruffling your already messy hair, “I told you I would be, ma belle.”

You nod at him, face far too red. You scolded yourself for reading so many romance novels as a child. This situation should be anything but romantic in your mind. Still, the way his green eyes practically drink you in makes you weak in the knees and– -sevens, what is wrong with you?

You swallow, trying to appear half presentable, “For your hat, yes?”

He grins, and you swear you melt into a flustered puddle right there, “You took good care of it?”

You nod, swiftly moving to pick it up from your vanity, happy to do anything other than stare into his eyes right now. You offer it up to him, and he takes it, affixing it to his head. He looks complete with it on, you think, liking it better on him than yourself. His eyes catch on something behind you, and you follow his gaze to the book – still opened to the page of the Phantom.

He smiles at you, again, “Curious?”

You shake your head, “Worried…”

He hums, moving over to the table to get a better look at the page. His eyes scan over the words, and you decide he looks more handsome when he’s thinking. You feel a bit uncomfortable in the silence, so you decide to fill it.

“I figured I wouldn’t be seeing you any time soon, so I had to find answers to my questions myself,” you explain, “it… wasn’t all that helpful, but I feel a little better about things.”

He nods, turning his gaze back to you, and you wish he hadn’t, “I don’t know any more than what’s written on this page…” He admits with a regretful frown.

You mirror it, “What do you mean? You seemed… knowledgeable when we met.”

He shakes his head, “I wish I was. I’m only a monster hunter for hire, ma belle. I know how to kill them, and that’s all.”

You sigh, head falling in defeat. There goes your biggest lead. Sevens, this was more and more impossible every day that passed. You had no magic, no help, no… no anything! The longer this stretched on the more angry you got with yourself.

Gentle fingers tucked themselves beneath your chin, pulling your head up to kind green eyes, “Ne t’en fais pas. Even though we know little, we can still do much.”

You frown, “...How?”

He smiles, rubbing his thumb over your chin, “We know how to defeat them, do we not? So long as we have that, we can keep them at bay.”

You bite at your lip, suddenly shameful, “I can’t use magic. Well– I don’t know how to.”

If he is surprised, he does not show it, patting you on the head kindly, “Well, I’ll just have to teach you then.”

It’s such a simple statement, leaving no room for argument. You don’t know why it affects you so much – perhaps because you are so very stressed – but you begin to cry before you can realize what’s going on. The tears fall in rapid succession, your hands unable to wipe at them fast enough. You hadn’t cried since the night all of this began, it was… cathartic. Despite everything, all the responsibility and stress and secrets, you could still cry.

The handsome huntsman takes you into his arms, smoothing your messy hair down with gentle pets. You cry hard into his chest, and he does not bother you with any useless dialogue. Simply holding you and caring for you, like you are just as human as he is.

When you are all cried out, he carefully brings you back to your bed and sits next to you – hand holding yours reassuringly. When you look at him, you want to speak his name, and it hits you all at once that he is still entirely a stranger to you. A kind one, at that, but a stranger.

As if reading your mind, he squeezes your hand, “I am Rook Hunt, the Huntsman.”

You smile, repeating the name – it feels like golden honey on your tongue. “Rook Hunt,” you laugh, “how fitting, much nicer than Schoenheit.”

“Schoenheit is more romantic,” he responds, “better suited for a face like yours.”

“I should not trust you, not enough to cry in your arms, at least.” You say simply.

“Am I not trustworthy?” He laughs.

“You shouldn’t be… but you did save my life, for what it’s worth…”

“And I came back.”

“That you did, but I still can’t quite understand why.” You wonder aloud, “What is your motivation?”

“For coming back?”

“For helping.” you correct, then add, “Also, for coming back – for making an excuse to come back.”

He seems to ponder it, and again you think he is handsome as he thinks. Brows furrowed, eyes glinting – he nibbles at his lip as well, and you shamelessly wonder how they may feel on yours before you banish the thought. (As a princess, you should have better control around strange men you find in forests, no matter how handsome they are). Then he turns to you, eyes bright, and smiles wide.

“It’s simple. I’ve found myself enthralled by you and your beauty,” he declares, “I wanted a chance to admire it further.”

You flush. Sevens, this man was odd, but he was genuine. Perhaps that’s what drew you to him – it was an honesty you had rarely experienced. The only time you could recall such simple, honest admissions was when talking to the children in the village – all far too young to understand how to hold their tongue and lie to save face. 

“Thank you,” you respond with a smile, “you are very… honest. I appreciate it.”

He grins, wiggling about like a proud cat, “Honesty is important to my family – we are not liars.”

“That’s charming,” you giggle, “If I could ask you to be honest with me, still. Just one last question.”

He nods, straightening himself out a bit, trying and failing to look serious in your eyes.

“Why are you here?” You ask, and then quickly clarify when he looks confused, “I mean, in my kingdom. You are not from around here, I can tell from your clothing.”

He nods in understanding, then answers, “I was hired to kill the phantoms crawling around the area.”

You frown. ‘Phantoms’, plural. There were more.

“Have you… been successful,” you ask, hesitant to hear the answer.

He senses your unease, and squeezes your hand – you’d forgotten he was holding it, “I’ve taken care of two since our meeting, but there are still many more that need dealing with.”

You clasp a hand over your mouth, stress clawing up your shoulders like a ferocious beast, “How many more? Why haven’t you been able to deal with all of them?”

“Ne t’en fais pas,” he repeats from earlier – French, which was only spoken in sparse parts of the world that you knew, “As of now they hold no threat to your people. They are almost all contained within the forest, deeper than the hunters go.”

“Why haven’t they been dealt with…?” You ask again.

“They are… insaisissable, elusive despite their size. Hunting them is difficult, even for someone like me,” he answers, “I would not allow any harm to come to your people, I promise you.”

You nod in understanding, still tense, but put at ease by his reassurance. You saw him in action, you know that he is capable and talented. If he was in charge of putting these things to sleep, then you would trust that it was handled, for now at least. Still…

“I wish I could use magic, then I could deal with the issue myself,” you say, frustration ringing through your voice.

“I was not joking, earlier,” he responds, smiling as always, “I will teach you magic if you will let me?”

You stare at him blankly. Sure, he did offer earlier, but you didn’t expect him to be serious. Teaching someone to use magic was not an easy task. Learning magic wasn’t an easy task. He says it with such confidence, such assurance, that you feel compelled to believe that he would find the task simple in and of itself.

“Where would we even go?” you ask, “My brother would never allow me.”

He smirks, winking at you, “Two days, midnight, meet me just outside the castle walls – near the forest’s entrance. Bring your staff.”

You nod stupidly at him as he stands, raising your hand to his lips in another gentle kiss. Sevens, you were helpless to his charm, weren’t you? He practically floats across the room to your window, and you stare at him with your mouth agape the whole time. As he hops up on the ledge, he turns back to you with a playful smile.

“I will see you there?” he asks.

Still dumbfounded, you nod, “O-of course. Two days, midnight.”

“Au revoir, ma belle.” he purrs, and then he is gone from sight.

You stay seated on the bed, clutching tightly at the hem of your dress. Your staff may not be nearly as useless as you thought. You laugh. Sevens, what a day you’ve had.

[ticklishfiend]

FEEL FREE TO USE THIS PROMPT WITH WHOEVER YOU WANT. WHATEVER YOU WANT. IF YOU WANT TO USE IT. it's horribly evil and i trust you with it:

character a wanting tickles in some way, and character b (who knows about their deal and is totally being evil) picking up on it and character b somehow "forgets" what tickling is and how to do it and needs a little memory boost, convincing character A to explain it to them and tell them exactly what to do in order to get what they want 😌

"where do i put my hands?" / "now what?" / "where else should i try?"

- 🍓

i never finished this and im soooo sorry dude, i fell out of my hyperfixation and the motivation just floated out of my body bruh. anyways, here's the unfinished drabble, i hope u like it anyways!!

-

Aziraphale shifted in his seat. Crossed his legs, then uncrossed them immediately because it felt wrong. He rubbed his forearms against the couch arms uncomfortably, nails picking at the fabric. 

Aziraphale knew why he felt so off. But admitting it feels so improper. 

Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on Crowley lounging about on his designated couch spot. Aziraphale waited anxiously for him to notice how off he was acting. 

Crowley continued picking at his nails, not even bothering to look up at him. The one time Aziraphale wouldn’t mind a little teasing behavior from Crowley and he’s looking at his hand. 

Fine. Fine. He’ll say something, something small to get Crowley jump started. It never takes much to get him going anyways, so Aziraphale will have him in no time. 

“Ahem,” Aziraphale fake-coughed, a little obvious but if it works it works. Crowley looked up, brows furrowing at Aziraphale’s tense form, noticing his finger tapping impatiently at the arm. 

“You alright?”

Aziraphale gave a small shy smile, not looking Crowley in the eyes. His own nails seemed of more interest all of a sudden. “Just feeling…a bit antsy, is all, dear.”

“Oh,” Crowley squinted his eyes, suspicious and curious. “Any particular reason you’re so jittery? Got ants in your pants, angel?”

“Nothing of the sort.”

They were both quiet for a moment. A staring contest. Well, Crowley stared him down at least. Azirphale actually did everything but stare. 

Crowley hummed, going back to his hand. 

Are you actually joking.

Aziraphale huffed. Okay fine. Again. Maybe Crowley’s just a bit slow today. Yeah, that’s it. He needs a more obvious push. It’s more embarrassing, sure, but the metaphorical ants in his pants feel like they're crawling around faster now and he’s gonna need some relief soon. 

So Aziraphale took a big, long stretch. His arms raised above him, a satisfying groan just to call Crowley’s attention to his very exposed and vulnerable torso. And, of course, this did catch Crowley’s eye. 

He chuckled. Bingo. 

“Can’t keep still today, can ya?” Crowley sat on the edge of his seat, elbow propped on his knee to rest his chin in his hand. He watched Aziraphale settle back into his chair with a grin. “Anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”

Aziraphale felt himself will back a blush. “Oh, well, I…I’m not sure. Anything you’d like, I’m sure I’d appreciate.”

“Mm…” Crowley hummed with a smile, eyes trailing Aziraphale up and down. Aziraphale was having a really hard time looking at him right now, it was very cute. “Seriously, angel, I’m not sure how to help you here. I cooould…make you some tea? Maybe grab some cakes by the coffee shop?” Crowley really couldn’t keep that cheeky grin off his face for a second, could he? “But maybe you can throw some suggestions out since my mind is drawing quite the blank.”

Aziraphale truly couldn’t tell if he was being serious. Was that smile devious or just him offering a nice gesture? Crowley had his sweet moments, if anyone would know it’d be Aziraphale, but was this that?? It didn’t really feel like it, but he didn’t want to flub. 

“Maybe we could figure something out easier if I…sat next to you?” 

“Brilliant idea,” Crowley sat back against the cushion, patting the spot next to him. “Make yourself comfy.” 

Aziraphale threw a tight smile his way as he got up, feeling very peculiar about this whole thing. Usually Crowley jumped right into this, eager to get his hands on him and make Aziraphale cackle. Now Crowley’s acting like he’s never tickled him a day in his life. 

Aziraphale hopes his brain is just working slower today than usual. The alternative is something he’s becoming very wary over. 

Finally seated, Aziraphale sat up straight as a board. He knew exactly what he was doing, too. If he looks too tense or stiff, Crowley always finds the excuse to tickle him into relaxing. Really, Aziraphale can be quite the schemer when he wants to be. 

Crowley just watched him for a moment, taking notice each time Aziraphale nervously glanced his way. Crowley reached and gave Aziraphale a soothing rub up and down his back, not stopping when Aziraphale tried flinching away. 

“Wow, you’re tense. Really, I’d love to help, but you are funny about your massages,” Crowley purred, giving Aziraphale a pat on the back before leaning back. 

Aziraphale ringed his hands. “Ah, yes well, that’s only sometimes,” he bluffed, trying to find any excuse to get Crowley’s dexterous fingers on him right this second. “I don’t think a massage sounds so bad right now, actually.”

Crowley chuckled, “Really? Usually you get all huffy when I offer you one of my famous massages,” he squeezed Aziraphale’s shoulder, which would’ve felt affirming if not for the teasy tone lacing Crowley’s voice right now. What a devil. 

Aziraphale did get huffy at that. “Well that’s because you always…” he waved his hand about in the air as if it would jog Crowley’s memory of all the very tickly massages he’s given Aziraphale in the past. Innocent rubs and firm presses to start, but eventually Crowley always trailed a little too close to Aziraphale’s sides, a little too gently, everything was always a little too much. Admittedly, Aziraphale thought that sounded perfect for his current mood. 

But Crowley just quirked his head, like a confused puppy. “What are you on about?” he pressed, before physically adjusting Aziraphale to lay down on the couch, back up. Crowley straddled his waist, “I always what?”

Aziraphale’s face felt like it could burn through the pillow he hid himself in. “You do know. Stop messing about.”

“Angel, if I knew what you were talking about…” Crowley leaned his face close into Aziraphale’s exposed ear, giving a hard press into his shoulder blades. His breath tickled as he whispered, “…don’t you think I’d be doing it right now?”

Oh for heaven's sake. Aziraphale felt he could bust through the seams with how on edge he was at the moment. He felt squirmier, hands pressing into spots in an extremely un-ticklish manner that made him want to whine. This is so unfair. Crowley knows exactly what he’s doing, he’s figured out a way to make Aziraphale squirm more than usual and he is not taking it for granted.  

Aziraphale’s not sure whether to be excited and thankful, or hit him over the head with his pillow. 

“You’re being cruel,” Aziraphale muttered into his pillow, fingers squeezing the cushion in anticipation. Maybe he’d start when Aziraphale least expected? Maybe Crowley’s getting impatient too? But he couldn’t know any of this for sure, so he had to wait, and isn’t that just the most internally ticklish feeling there was?

“Cruel? I’m giving you a massage, for Satan’s sake. I think if anyone is being cruel it’s you. I know you’ve got something you won’t tell me. I can hear those cogs turning in that pretty little head of yours,” Crowley gave his scalp a quick scratch, chuckling at the flinch that came with it. “Jumpy, are we?”

“Yes, okay? Just get on with it, please. I don’t think I can take much more of this. I’ve gone red, Crowley,” he whined like Crowley had made his body malfunction. He was getting a little desperate now. If his very obvious advances won’t work, asking must do this trick. It had to. 

But Crowley hummed again. And Aziraphale knew he wasn’t finished with his little tricks. 

“Gonna need you to be a little more specific. I’m a bit lost, you see,” Crowley’s hands trailed to hold Aziraphale’s sides firmly. Bastard.  

Aziraphale exhaled deeply into the pillow, close to pulling his hair out. “I would like you to…tickle me. Please.”

There was a hesitant silence, like Crowley was pondering his next move and Aziraphale was waiting with bated breath for it. 

Then Crowley spoke. And Azirphale almost wished he hadn’t of. 

“What’s tickling, dear?”

Fuck. Fuck. 

“Nooo,” Aziraphale groaned, pressing his palms into his eyes, beyond flustered and frustrated. 

“What? I’m not allowed to ask questions now?”

“It seems like asking questions is all you’re doing, actually…”

“I can’t do what you want if I don’t even know the definition,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale could hear the grin in his voice. Sometimes Aziraphale forgets he chooses to room with an actual, real-life demon. “You gettin’ the picture?”

“Cruel. Cruel, wily serpent. Hell spawn, you are.”

“Yeah, don’t wear it out, angel,” Crowley’s hands squeezed a very non-ticklish squeeze against Aziraphale’s sides, as if just to remind him of where he was above him. “Let's get you flipped over. Can't rightly tell me about this whole tickling thing if your face is smushed into the cushion.”

“Hhhnn,” Aziraphale groaned through a whiny giggle, adjusting under Crowley to lay on his back. Having his flushed face now on display is not helping whatsoever. 

Crowley smiled down at him, and Aziraphale swore he saw a forked tongue peek through his sharp teeth. Evil thing. “Why hello there.”

“Hush.”

“I don’t get a hello back?”

“Not after all this teasing you don’t,” Aziraphale would cross his arms if he could, but a certain someone was blocking him with his knees. 

“Teasing? Me? I think you really have lost your marbles, dear. I would do no such thing,” Crowley lied through his teeth, settling on Aziraphale’s waist. His hands drifted back to Aziraphale’s sides, firm all the same. “Now…about this tickling thing?” 

“You know what tickling is, Crowley. Stop messing with me,” Aziraphale stood his ground, though he found it hard to look Crowley in the eyes right now. Something about those pointed irises and the yellow surrounding them felt truly piercing at the moment. Sharp enough to cut through Aziraphale’s wavering boldness. 

“Really, darling, I haven’t a clue. But I'd love to find out if you’d be so inclined?” Crowley caressed Aziraphale’s sides, seemingly to comfort, but the angel nearly shivered. “Especially since you’re so eager for me to figure it out, hm?”

Aziraphale huffed. He’s been huffy since this whole thing started, but now that he can sense what he really wants is just over the horizon, breathing is becoming something of a manual task. “Is this really what it’s going to take?”

Crowley smiled a wicked smile. “I think you’ll find I’m a very fast learner.” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, if only to distract himself from that fluttery feeling in his belly at those words. 

Closing his eyes and taking a sigh, Aziraphale was ready to get this over with. “T-tickling is…it’s, well…we created it together many, many years ago. If you touch certain parts of the body, my body, I’ll laugh. Involuntarily. So…” Aziraphale coughed awkwardly. “So there. That’s tickling.”

Crowley snickered. Azirphale shoved at his face playfully, his own face feeling warmed by the second. “You’re terrible, Crowley.”

“Aren’t I just?” Crowley said, taking Aziraphale’s hand and pushing it down against the cushion. “So…parts of your body, huh? Wanna be more specific about that?”

“Goodness gracious, you are insufferable,” Aziraphale chuckled through a whine, twisting the wrist in Crowley’s hand. “My…well, my sides are pretty sensitive.” 

“Sensitive…you mean…?”

“Ticklish, yes, ticklish! Crowley I swear if you d—dohohoahaha-! C-Crohohowley!” Azirpahale giggled happily when he felt precise fingers finally digging into his sides. 

“I think you deserve a little reward for your knowledge,” Crowley grinned, his pinching endless on Aziraphale’s sides. He basked in those silly giggles, happy his little game is over so he can finally hear his angel sing