#I'm going slow cuz these are busy days

[the-golden-heart]

thing I noticed in ep 34 (Inside the Maze)

Bleckt is smiling upon seeing Nya nearly getting defeated

wich is suspicious if you ask me… I think that he was the one who sent the killer robots or is allied with Ras

[aijunbi]

hiii sooo can i req yoonchae x f!reader where katseye goes on their asia tour and while they’re in korea the girls find out that yoonchae has a gf and interrogate reader bc yoonchae is basically their daughter and they wanna make sure she’s in good hands!!

funny cuz yoonchae's literally my gf

"WHO ARE YOU?"

jeong yoonchae x fem!reader

{ synopsis } : while in korea for one their asia promo trip, yoonchae randomly goes out, coming up with random excuses as to why she is. the kats gets suspicious but ultimately concluded it was messing around with friends. until one night, they see her with a random girl in front of a convenience store.

{ tags/extra } : fluff, secret relationship, established relationship, yoonchae is a flirt, reader is korean for the plot, pacing is iffy i apologize

{ a/n } : yall alr know this is sooo rushed cuz i delayed the publishing of this by a lot 😭 plus tumblr didn't save it 😒

now playing : pink by wave to earth

@lararajjj @ohmyhaely @ninguitar

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"SHE'S BEEN ACTING WEIRD LATELY," megan says out of the blue, confusing the members for a moment. manon glances at the television, seeing nothing playing on the screen, then looked around at the rest of the girls.

"who?" she questions. she has an idea of who, but she won't admit it until everybody else brings it up. how is she so confident in this person? well, maybe it's because the person in question isn't even there with them. the youngest has been a bit distant lately, always having excuses about going out early in the morning and not coming back until late at night, sometimes even coming back the next day.

"you know who."

nobody dared to say anything else but it was hard to ignore the elephant in the room. sophia finally spoke first, the perks of being the closest to yoonchae finally being useful. "it's been a long while since she's back in korea. she told me she's hanging out with friends."

"i don't think friends keep each other out for the long," lara lazily voiced her opinion, not sparing any of them a glance as she's busy playing block blast. daniela clicked her tongue before reaching out and turning off lara's phone, which resulted in the younger letting out a loud 'hey!'

"uh, yes, they do. you should know since you're always dragging me to go out." megan rebutted. lara rolled her eyes and turned her phone back on, backing out of the conversation. daniela pondered some more, trying to figure out what to say before deciding to test the waters. she wanted to see how the girls would react to what she has to say.

"what if yoonchae's seeing someone?" she asks.

sophia immediately snapped her head to daniela, a mix of disbelief and annoyance on her face. "if yoonchae says she's out with friends, then she's out with friends. don't jump to conclusions." even so, there's a small part of her that is convinced the youngest might have a partner that neither her or the others know about. "plus, yoonchae never lies."

"right.. okay."

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yoonchae does, in fact, lie. she keeps secrets about a lot of things. like this, for example:

"hi, beautiful," she greets in korean as soon as you opened the door, leaning down to kiss the lips that she missed oh so dearly. "god, i missed seeing this eleven outta ten face."

"stop lying, you didn't miss me that much." as you hit her arm lightly, your scolding demeanor changed into one of giddy highschooler. yoonchae only chuckled before holding your waist to pull you closer, her fingers resting on the small of your back. your hands cradled her face, your thumb grazing the curve of her jaw.

"i'm telling the truth," she confessed. "i'd kill myself if i ever said i didn't miss my gorgeous girl."

"flattery sure gets you anywhere." you rolled your eyes, tiptoeing up to give her cheek a gentle peck. yoonchae swerved her head to the side, just enough to capture your lips in a slow, longing kiss. you swore you felt her fingers practically digging into your hips like she never wants to let go.

"i-" a kiss on your lips, "missed-" a kiss on your forehead, "you-" a kiss on your nose, "so-" a kiss on your left cheek, "much." and finally, a kiss on your right cheek. "like, a lot."

"oh shut up." you fully wrapped your arms around her shoulders to bury your red, flustered face into the crook of her neck. to say you also missed her was an understatement. you longed for the days you two would finally be physically together again instead of on facetime calls that get cut short because she has a busy schedule. and now that it's happening, you just wanna pinch yourself, convinced it's a dream.

after a few moments of comfortable silence that yoonchae let you have to collect your thoughts, she finally spoke up. "snack run?"

"of course."

it takes a while to get to the 7/11 despite it being only a three minute walk from your apartment. yoonchae was just so warm for the cool evening that you didn't want to pull away from the hug. but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

~

"pringles or kimbap?" yoonchae asked, holding up the two options in your face. you already know she wants the kimbap, but you also know that there's a small part of her that wants the pringles.

"how about both? you want both of them right?"

"yeah... but–" you cut her off by taking both of the items and putting it into the basket with a proud smile on your face. you didn't give her time to protest, already making your way to the checkout. "y/n.."

"it's no big deal, baby. you can get whatever you want." you handed the cashier the money. "even if it's just snacks." yoonchae subtly pouted and wrapped her arms around your waist from the side, resting her head on your shoulder.

"you're so sweet," she mumbled. "i love you so much."

"mm, i love you more." you thanked the chasier as he handed you the change, stuffing it in your hoodie pocket. well, it wasn't yours, but nobody really cares. you held yoonchae's hand to go to tables outside, but she quickly stopped upon seeing the girls. she let go of your hand while you set some space between you two, making it seem like it was just a friendly snack run. "wait, your hoodie–"

"just keep it," she whispered.

soon enough, they all spotted yoonchae nervously standing next to you. sophia rushed over to yoonchae, asking why she's out so late before looking your way. you turned around and pretended you had no idea who they were. "do you know her?"

"uh, yeah. this is my friend, y/n." she nudged you with her elbow. "say hi to them."

"it's so awkward, yoon... i'm literally your girlfriend."

"yeah, but they don't know that." she gave a smug smile, grabbing your forearm and pulling you closer. "y/n is my really close friend. i've known her since elementary." her hand slipped from your arm and around your waist, squeezing your hips as a way of comforting you in this stressful situation.

"are you trying to make us public?" you jabbed her side, twisting your hand to make it extra painful.

"baby, if i had five seconds to say anything to the whole world, i'd most definitely shout that you're my girlfriend." she winked– which was horribly cute. you clicked your tongue in annoyance, ignoring the blush creeping up to your face. the girls watched the interaction with partially stunned looks. you two looked awfully a lot like a couple and it was concerning.

yoonchae sat you down on one of the chairs and began walking back to the store, claiming she's going to buy more snacks. you rushed to get up and follow her but lara got in front of you, her hands clasped together with a sickeningly sweet smile. "let's talk."

~

"when did you two start dating?" lara was the first to ask after moments of silence at the table. everybody was either too busy staring at you– ahem, sophia –or too busy eating the snacks you and yoonchae bought.

"better question, are you two dating?" sophia intervened. at least she was decent enough to ask. words bubbled in a throat but it refused to escape your mouth, so you only gave a weak nod. sophia nodded as well, more in understanding than anything else. lara and daniela high-fived each other while manon and megan groaned

"so.. can you answer my question then?" lara questioned. "with some background too?"

"we started dating in our second year of middle school," you began. "honestly, we had no idea what we were doing, but, y'know, she was soo in love with me." you chuckled at the last part, remembering how head over heels yoonchae was.

("wait, what's second year of middle school in korea?" megan whispered to manon, in which the older replied, "eighth grade")

"so you're saying yoonchae, possibly one of the most logical people ever, had no idea what she was doing?" sophia raised a seemingly interested eyebrow. before you answered, you took the pringles and kimbap, putting it on your lap for yoonchae to eat when she comes back.

"she was thinking with her heart, if i'm gonna be honest." you nervously laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. "her whole head was empty like her brain took a vacation."

"that has to be so funny," daniela sneered. "imagine yoonchae walking into a pole because she was too busy thinking of how pretty y/n is."

"what if that's why she did that when we were in new york," sophia commented, her stern demeanor finally cracking. yoonchae finally came back after an eternity with two full bags of snacks. she sets down a bag in front of you after giving the girls the other, plopping down on the seat next to you.

"you said you like pepero right?" after a full conversation in english, you were grateful yoonchae was here to switch back to korean. yoonchae rummaged through the bag, quickly finding the box of chocolate sticks and gave it to you.

"mhm. the chocolate one?"

"they just restocked on it."

"y'all are so cute." lara appeared between you both, the smile from earlier back on her face. you audibly gulped when she looked at you, your body sinking into the chair. "say, how much do you love yoonchae?"

"..." you stayed quiet for a minute which made yoonchae a little nervous. though, she has no reason to be. it was evident on how much you love her. "i think i'd go insane if she's more than five minutes away."

"that's such a basic answer." manon teased. sophia was looking at you expectantly. she wants to know if you're good enough for yoonchae (despite the fact you two have been dating possibly three years).

"she's the girl of my dreams. she fell first, but as always, i fell harder. every time i look at her i just get reminded of how lucky i am to have such an amazing girlfriend like her." your hand found its way to yoonchae, intertwining your fingers and pulling it up to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on her knuckles. "i'd choose her over my own life."

through a series of 'aw's and 'how cute', all you were focused on was yoonchae and how her eyes gazed into yours, how her hand squeezed yours just a little tighter. most importantly, how pretty she looked just right underneath a street light. "you're so gorgeous, baby."

yoonchae suddenly stood up from her seat, the action startling everyone. she got down on one knee, and holding a singular pepero in her hand, she said, "i wanna marry you. be mrs. jeong."

"what?!" the girls, including you, all exclaimed in shock.

[phamapple]

THEY WERE ROOMMATES

When opposites attract, sparks fly. Follow the adorable misadventures of two college students as they go from sworn enemies to head-over-heels in love

Warnings; fluff, fem!reader, kissing, enemies-friends-lovers, mini jealousy moments, Daniela is mentioned like twice, not so slow burn, med student reader, art student manon, uni au, roommates au, reader is a neat freak lmk if I missed anything cuz I think there’s a lot that I missed :P 7.5k WC

You trudged into your dorm room, lugging a heavy suitcase behind you. You were not thrilled about sharing a room with a stranger, but it was a necessary evil. You'd heard horror stories about dorm roommates, but you were determined to make the best of it.

As you entered the room, you were greeted by a messy-haired girl sprawled across the bed, surrounded by art supplies. She looked up at you with a scowl, her eyes narrowing.

"Great, you must be my roommate," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm Manon."

You raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her attitude. "Nice to meet you, Manon," you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. "I'm Y/n."

Manon snorted, rolling her eyes. "Let me guess. A med major, huh? How original."

You felt a spark of irritation, but you bit back a retort. You didn't want to start off on the wrong foot.

As you began to unpack, Manon barely acknowledged your presence, too busy sketching in her notebook. You tried to make small talk, but she responded with monosyllabic grunts.

It was clear that Manon was not thrilled about sharing a room with you. But you were determined to make the best of it, even if it killed you.

As the days went by, you settled into a routine. Manon would spend most of her time drawing or painting, while you'd study for your med school classes. The tension between you was palpable, but you tried to ignore it.

But despite the rocky start, you began to notice little things about Manon. The way she smiled to herself when she was drawing, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about art.

And Manon, despite her tough exterior, seemed to be warming up to you. She'd occasionally ask you for advice on her art projects or share her favorite snacks with you.

It was a small start, but you sensed that there might be more to Manon than met the eye.

—

You'd always been a tidy person, and you took pride in keeping your space organized. So, when Manon started to spread her art supplies all over the room, you felt a growing sense of frustration.

At first, it was just a few sketchbooks and pencils scattered across the desk. But as the days went by, the clutter grew. Paints, canvases, and half-finished projects took over the floor, the bed, and even the windowsill.

You tried to be patient, reminding yourself that Manon was an art major and needed space to create. But as the mess grew, so did your annoyance.

One day, as you were trying to study for an exam, you realized that you couldn't even see the surface of your desk anymore. Manon's art supplies had taken over, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of paper, paint, and glitter.

"Manon, can we talk?" you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Manon looked up from her latest project, a half-finished painting that was taking up most of the floor. "What's up?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"It's just...the room is getting really cluttered," you said, trying to choose your words carefully. "I know you need space to create, but I need some space to study."

Manon raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly the most exciting person to live with," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm just trying to add some personality to this drab room."

You felt a surge of irritation, but you tried to keep your cool. "I understand that, but can we find a compromise? Maybe we can set up a designated art space for you, and I can have some space to study?"

Manon snorted. "You want to restrict my creativity? No way."

The conversation quickly escalated into a full-blown argument, with both of you shouting over each other. The tension between you was palpable, and it seemed like the room was shrinking by the minute.

As the argument reached its peak, the RA knocked on the door, asking you to keep the noise down. You both glared at each other, still fuming, before Manon stormed out of the room, leaving you to seethe in silence.

The room was still cluttered, and the tension between you and Manon was thicker than ever. You wondered how you were going to survive the rest of the semester with this much animosity between you.

You gazed around the cluttered room, feeling a sense of irritation wash over you. Manon's art supplies were scattered everywhere, making it impossible for you to focus on your studies. You let out a deep sigh and decided to take matters into your own hands.

You started to pick up the scattered art supplies, carefully organizing them into neat piles. As you worked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The room was starting to look more like a peaceful sanctuary, and less like a chaotic art studio.

As you finished up, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. The room was transformed, with Manon's art supplies neatly organized and out of the way. You let out a sigh of relief and settled back into your chair, ready to focus on your studies.

Just as you were getting into the zone, you heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by the creak of the door to your room. You looked up to see Manon standing in the doorway, a scowl on her face and a bag of groceries in her hand.

For a moment, you just looked at her, taking in the sight of her rumpled clothes and messy hair. She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, and you couldn't help but wonder what she'd been up to.

Manon's scowl deepened as she caught your eye, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with a soft pink hue. You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden shyness.

Without a word, Manon walked over to your desk and dumped the bag of groceries onto the surface. You looked at the pile of snacks in surprise, wondering what she was doing.

As you gazed up at Manon, you saw a flicker of apology in her eyes, but her expression remained stubbornly scowled. "I brought snacks, as an apology for my attitude earlier" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a surge of surprise at her words, but you quickly pushed it aside. Instead, you smiled at her, a warm, soft smile that you hoped would put her at ease.

"Thanks, Manon," you said, your voice gentle. "That's really sweet of you."

Manon's scowl faltered for a moment, and you saw a glimmer of surprise in her eyes. She seemed taken aback by your warm response, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd misread the situation entirely.

But then Manon's expression hardened again, and she turned away, muttering something under her breath. You watched her go, feeling a sense of confusion wash over you.

What was going on with Manon? You wondered. One minute she was scowling at you, and the next she was bringing you snacks and apologizing. You shook your head, feeling a sense of bewilderment.

As you turned back to your studies, you couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about Manon's sudden change of heart. What had brought it on? And what did it mean for your tumultuous relationship?

The questions swirled in your mind as you delved back into your studies, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon's apology had been unexpected, to say the least, and you wondered what other surprises she had in store for you.

—

Manon burst into the room, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Tonight's the night!" she exclaimed, tossing her bag onto the bed.

You looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow. "What's tonight?" you asked, a hint of wariness creeping into your voice.

Manon grinned. "Tonight, we're going out!" she said, her voice dripping with excitement. "We're going to paint the town red, or at least, we're going to try."

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready for a night out with Manon. She had a reputation for being unpredictable, and you weren't sure if you were ready for whatever adventure she had planned.

But Manon's enthusiasm was infectious, and before you knew it, you were swept up in her excitement. "Okay, fine," you said, tossing your book aside. "But if we get into trouble, I'm blaming you."

Manon whooped, pumping her fist in the air. "That's the spirit!" she exclaimed, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room.

As you hit the streets, you realized that Manon had no clear plan in mind. She seemed to be making it up as she went along, dragging you from one random location to the next.

You found yourself laughing and joking with Manon, feeling a sense of freedom and release that you hadn't experienced in weeks. It was like you'd left your worries and cares behind, and were just living in the moment.

But as the night wore on, things started to get a little out of hand. Manon convinced you to join her in a karaoke bar, where you proceeded to butcher a rendition of your favorite song. The crowd was merciless, and you found yourself laughing and cringing at the same time.

Next, Manon dragged you to a street food stall, where you sampled some of the most exotic and bizarre foods you'd ever encountered. Some of it was delicious, while other dishes were downright terrifying.

As the night drew to a close, Manon convinced you to join her in a crazy dance party, where you found yourself surrounded by pulsating lights and thumping music. You lost yourself in the beat, feeling a sense of abandon and freedom that you hadn't experienced in years.

It wasn't until the sun started to rise that you realized just how late it was. Manon grinned at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Best night ever, right?" she exclaimed, linking her arm through yours.

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of exhilaration and exhaustion. "Definitely one for the books," you agreed, shaking your head in wonder.

As you stumbled back to the dorm, the sun rising over the horizon, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Manon. She'd pushed you out of your comfort zone, and shown you a side of yourself that you never knew existed.

And as you drifted off to sleep, your head spinning with memories of the night's adventures, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises Manon had in store for you.

You woke up to the sound of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, wondering who could be visiting at such an early hour. You tossed off the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, deciding that the best time to investigate was when you went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

As you made your way downstairs, the noise grew louder, and you could tell that Manon was entertaining a guest. You stepped into the living room, and your eyes landed on Manon, who was lounging on the couch with a blonde, curly-haired girl. They both turned to look at you, and you offered a simple "morning" before heading to the kitchen.

As you poured yourself a glass of water, you couldn't help but overhear the conversation between Manon and her friend. The blonde girl was chatting away, asking Manon about her summer plans, and Manon was responding with her usual sarcastic humor. But then, the girl's attention turned to you, and you heard her say, "Who's that cutie? I hope she's up for grabs."

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you listened to Manon's response. "She's my roommate," Manon said, her voice firm, "and I'm 90% sure she isn't single." Manon's expression narrowed, and you could sense a hint of protectiveness in her tone.

You stood in the kitchen, frozen, wondering what Manon meant by that statement. Why was she so sure you weren't single? And why did she seem so invested in keeping her friend away from you? You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized that Manon might be more perceptive than you gave her credit for.

As you stood there, lost in thought, the conversation between Manon and her friend continued. The blonde girl was teasing Manon about being possessive, and Manon was laughing it off, but you could sense an undercurrent of tension. It was clear that Manon was not interested in sharing you with her friend, but you weren't sure why.

You took a deep breath and tried to shake off the feeling of unease. You told yourself that Manon was just being protective, that she didn't want her friend to get hurt. But as you stood there, listening to the conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

After a few minutes, you composed yourself and headed back upstairs, trying to act nonchalant. But as you lay in bed, you couldn't help but wonder what Manon's intentions were. Was she really just being protective, or was there something more to it?

You decided to brush it off and pretend you didn't hear the conversation. You told yourself that it was none of your business, and that Manon was probably just joking around with her friend.

As you went about your day, you tried to avoid thinking about the conversation. You focused on your studies, worked on a project, and even managed to squeeze in a quick workout. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between you and Manon.

When Manon's friend left later that day, Manon came upstairs to grab a book from her shelf. She caught your eye and smiled, but you just nodded and looked away, trying to play it cool.

Manon seemed to sense that something was off, because she lingered in the doorway, watching you with a curious expression. "Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, everything's fine," you said, trying to sound casual. "Just studying for an exam."

Manon raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. But she didn't push the issue, just nodded and headed back downstairs.

As the day drew to a close, you couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if you'd confronted Manon about the conversation. Would she have confessed her feelings, or would she have brushed it off as a joke?

You shook your head, telling yourself that it was better to just let it go. But as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd missed an opportunity to explore something deeper with Manon.

The next morning, you woke up to find Manon already up and about, making breakfast in the kitchen. She smiled at you as you entered the kitchen, and you felt a flutter in your chest.

"Morning," she said, her voice bright. "I made pancakes."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over you. Maybe, just maybe, you'd imagined the whole thing.

But as you sat down to eat, you caught Manon watching you, a curious expression on her face. And you wondered, once again, what she was really thinking.

You decided to try to make small talk and see if you could get a read on Manon's feelings. As you sat down to eat, you asked her about her plans for the day.

Manon launched into a detailed explanation of her art project, telling you about the inspiration behind it and the techniques she was using. You listened intently, asking questions and making supportive noises.

As you chatted, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she talked about her art. She was so passionate about it, and it was infectious. You found yourself getting caught up in her enthusiasm, feeling a sense of excitement and creativity.

But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something underlying between you. You kept catching Manon looking at you, her expression soft and curious. And when you met her eye, she would quickly look away, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

You wondered if you were imagining things, if you were just reading too much into the situation. But as you continued to chat, you started to feel a sense of tension building between you. It was like there was a question hanging in the air, a question that neither of you was willing to ask.

As you finished up your breakfast, Manon suggested that you work on your respective projects together. She set up her easel in the living room, and you settled in at the kitchen table with your books and notes.

As you worked, the silence between you was comfortable, but you could sense the undercurrent of tension. You kept looking up to find Manon watching you, her eyes narrowed in concentration. And when you caught her eye, she would smile and look away, leaving you feeling frustrated and curious.

As the morning wore on, the tension between you started to feel almost palpable. You could sense that Manon was waiting for something, but you had no idea what. And as you worked, you found yourself wondering if you were brave enough to take the leap and find out.

Just as you were starting to feel like you couldn't take the tension anymore, Manon suddenly spoke up. "Hey, can I ask you something?" she said, her voice soft and tentative.

You looked up, your heart skipping a beat. "Of course," you said, trying to sound casual. "What's up?"

Manon hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth. And then, in a rush, she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't expected the question, and you didn't know how to respond. Part of you wanted to tell Manon the truth, to confess that you were single and interested. But another part of you was scared, scared of getting hurt and scared of ruining your friendship with Manon.

As you hesitated, Manon's face fell, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Never mind," she muttered. "It's none of my business."

You felt a pang of regret, knowing that you'd missed an opportunity to be honest with Manon. But as you looked at her, you saw the tension in her shoulders, the vulnerability in her eyes. And you knew that you had to find a way to respond, to let her know that you valued her and your friendship.

You smiled softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Manon's arm. "Hey, don't worry about it," you said, trying to put her at ease. "I'm single, so you don't have to worry about stepping on anyone's toes."

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile as she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her eyes sparkled with relief, and she looked at you with a newfound sense of connection.

"Thanks for telling me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I can breathe again."

You chuckled and squeezed her arm gently. "Anytime," you said, smiling back at her. "I'm glad I could put your mind at ease."

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of tension dissipate. It was as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you could finally relax around each other.

Manon's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked at you with a curious expression. "Can I ask you something else?" she said, her voice hesitant.

You nodded, intrigued. "Of course," you said, leaning in slightly. "What's up?"

Manon took a deep breath before asking, "Would you like to grab coffee with me sometime? Just the two of us?"

You felt a flutter in your chest as you considered her question. It was clear that Manon was interested in spending more time with you, and you had to admit that you felt the same way.

You smiled, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility. "I'd love to grab coffee with you," you said, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she let out a little squeal of excitement. "Really?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with delight.

You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and connection. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.

Manon bounced up from the couch, her energy infectious. "I'll go get my phone and we can make plans," she said, already heading for the stairs.

As you watched her go, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. You had no idea what the future held, but you knew that you were looking forward to spending more time with Manon.

Manon returned with her phone and started scrolling through her calendar. "How about tomorrow afternoon?" she asked, looking up at you with a hopeful expression.

You nodded, feeling a sense of agreement. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect," you said, smiling back at her.

As you made plans, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she smiled, or the way her hair curled slightly at the edges. You felt a sense of attraction that you couldn't ignore, and you wondered if maybe, just maybe, this coffee date could be the start of something special.

As you finalized the plans, Manon looked up at you with a mischievous grin. "I'm really looking forward to tomorrow," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you met her gaze. "Me too," you said, smiling back at her.

As the day went on, you tried to play it cool and pretend like the coffee date was no big deal. You went about your routine, doing chores and studying, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Every so often, you'd catch yourself thinking about Manon and the way she smiled when she asked you out. You'd feel a flutter in your chest, and you'd quickly push the feeling aside, telling yourself that you were just being silly.

But as the hours ticked by, you started to wonder if you were reading too much into the situation. Maybe Manon just wanted to be friends, and you were overanalyzing everything. Maybe you were just caught up in the excitement of having someone to hang out with.

You tried to rationalize your feelings, telling yourself that it was okay to just enjoy the moment and not overthink things. But as you lay in bed that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Manon's invitation.

As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself wondering what the next day would bring. Would Manon be nervous and awkward, or would she be her usual confident self? And what would you do if she was just being friendly, and didn't actually have romantic feelings for you?

The questions swirled in your mind, keeping you awake for what felt like hours. Finally, you drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster you'd been on.

The next morning, you woke up feeling nervous and anxious. You got dressed and ready, trying to calm your nerves as you waited for Manon to come downstairs.

When she finally emerged, looking bright and cheerful in a yellow sundress, you felt your heart skip a beat. She smiled at you, and you smiled back, trying to play it cool.

"Hey," she said, breezing into the kitchen. "Ready for coffee?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

As you walked to the coffee shop, Manon chatted easily about everything from art to music to her favorite books. You listened, entranced, feeling like you were getting to know her on a deeper level.

But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this coffee date. Something that Manon wasn't telling you.

As you sat down at a small table outside, Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm really glad you could make it today," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a flutter in your chest, and you leaned in, your heart pounding in your ears. "I'm glad I could make it too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection that you couldn't ignore. It was like the whole world had melted away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in a moment of pure possibility.

Just as it seemed like the moment was going to escalate into something more, Manon's phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming text. She groaned in frustration and pulled back, apologizing as she reached for her phone.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you tried to play it cool, smiling and telling Manon to go ahead and answer the text. As she scrolled through her phone, her expression changed from relaxed to concerned.

"What's wrong?" you asked, feeling a sense of curiosity.

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to respond. "It's my friend Daniela," she said finally. "She's in town unexpectedly and wants to meet up."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of surprise. "Daniela? Isn't that the friend who was visiting the other day?" you asked.

Manon nodded, looking guilty. "Yeah, that's the one. I didn't expect her to come back to town so soon, but I guess she had a change of plans."

You felt a pang of disappointment, realizing that the coffee date was going to be cut short. But you tried to be understanding, smiling and telling Manon that it was okay.

As Manon texted Daniela back, you couldn't help but wonder what this unexpected visit meant. Was Daniela just passing through, or was there something more going on?

As you finished up your coffee, Manon looked up at you with a sheepish expression. "I'm so sorry about this," she said. "I feel like I'm abandoning you."

You smiled and reassured Manon that it was okay, that you understood. But as you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. What did Daniela's visit mean for you and Manon? And would you ever get to finish what you started?

You smiled and told Manon that you understood, but you weren't interested in meeting up with Daniela. "It's okay, really," you said. "I've got some stuff I need to work on anyway."

Manon looked relieved, but also a little disappointed. "Okay, no worries," she said. "I'll catch up with you later, then."

You nodded and watched as Manon hurried off to meet up with Daniela. As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but feel a little left out. You had been looking forward to spending more time with Manon, and now it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.

When you got back to your dorm, you decided to focus on your work and try to put the disappointment out of your mind. You spent the rest of the day studying and working on projects, and by the time evening rolled around, you were feeling more productive and less bothered by the earlier events.

As you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You opened it to find Manon standing in the hallway, looking a little sheepish.

"Hey," she said. "I'm sorry again for ditching you earlier. I feel like I owe you an explanation."

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what Manon had to say. "What's going on?" you asked, stepping aside to let her in.

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "It's just...Daniela is going through a tough time right now," she said. "She's been having some personal issues, and I promised her I'd be there for her."

You nodded, feeling a surge of understanding. "That makes sense," you said. "I'm glad you're being a good friend to her."

Manon smiled, looking relieved. "Thanks for understanding," she said. "I promise I'll make it up to you soon."

As Manon turned to leave, you felt a pang of curiosity. What did Manon mean by "making it up" to you? And what exactly was going on between her and Daniela?

You decided to let the conversation drop, not wanting to pry into Manon's personal business. You smiled and nodded, telling her that you understood, and that you were just glad she was being a good friend to Daniela.

Manon smiled back, looking relieved, and you could tell that she was grateful for your understanding. You chatted for a few more minutes, catching up on each other's days, and then Manon said goodnight and headed back to her room.

As you got ready for bed, you couldn't help but think about the conversation you'd just had with Manon. You were glad that you'd been understanding and supportive, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder what was really going on with Daniela. Was she really just going through a tough time, or was there something more to it?

You pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that it was none of your business. You were just glad that Manon was being a good friend, and that was all that mattered.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You were happy to have Manon as a friend, and you were grateful for the understanding and support that you'd shown each other.

The next day, you went about your routine as usual, attending classes and working on projects. You didn't see Manon until lunchtime, when you ran into her in the cafeteria.

She smiled and waved, and you joined her at her table. As you ate, you chatted about your morning, discussing everything from classes to TV shows.

Manon seemed a little more subdued than usual, but you couldn't tell if it was just because she was tired or if something was really bothering her. You asked her if everything was okay, and she nodded, smiling reassuringly.

But as you finished up your lunch and prepared to part ways, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon seemed a little more distant than usual, and you wondered if everything was really okay.

As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You told yourself that you were just being paranoid, that Manon was probably fine and you were just reading too much into things.

But as you went about your day, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. You found yourself wondering what was really going on with Manon, and whether you should try to talk to her about it.

You decided to give Manon some space, figuring that she'll come to you if she needs to talk about something. You went about your day as usual, attending classes and working on projects.

As the day went on, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You wondered if she was okay, and if there was anything you could do to help.

But you also didn't want to pry or push her to talk about something she wasn't ready to discuss. You figured that if she needed someone to talk to, she would come to you.

As the evening drew to a close, you headed back to your dorm, feeling a little more relaxed. You spent some time reading and watching TV, and then got ready for bed.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard a knock at the door. You got up to answer it, expecting it to be one of your friends or maybe a neighbor.

But when you opened the door, you were surprised to see Manon standing there, looking a little sheepish. "Hey," she said, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

You shook your head, feeling a little curious. "No, it's fine," you said. "What's up?"

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "I just wanted to talk to you about something," she said finally. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping aside to let Manon in. As she entered your room, you couldn't help but wonder what she wanted to talk about.

Was it something serious, or just something that was bothering her? And why had she come to you, instead of someone else?

As Manon sat down on your bed, looking a little nervous, you realized that you were about to find out.

You asked Manon what was on her mind, encouraging her to open up. "Hey, what's going on?" you said, trying to sound supportive. "You can tell me anything."

Manon took a deep breath, looking a little nervous. "It's just...I don't know how to say this," she said, hesitating. "But I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately. With school, and my art, and just life in general...I feel like I'm drowning."

You listened attentively, trying to offer a supportive ear. "I'm so sorry, Manon," you said. "That sounds really tough. But you know you can always talk to me, right? I'm here for you."

Manon smiled, looking a little relieved. "Thanks," she said. "Just talking to you makes me feel a little better. But there's something else...something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a little curious. "What is it?" you asked, trying to sound encouraging.

Manon took another deep breath, looking a little nervous. "I've been developing feelings for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it may seem sudden, but I couldn't help the way I feel. And I wanted to be honest with you, even if it means risking our friendship."

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't seen this coming, and you didn't know how to react.

You took a deep breath and told Manon that you felt the same way. "I've been feeling a connection with you too," you said, trying to sound calm. "I value our friendship, but I have to admit, I've been wondering if there's something more between us."

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Really?" she asked, her voice full of excitement.

You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and possibility. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.

Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'm so glad," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long."

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection and understanding that you'd never felt before. It was like you'd been waiting for this moment for a long time, and now that it was finally here, you were ready to seize it.

Manon leaned in closer, her face inches from yours. You could feel the tension between you, the anticipation of what was to come.

And then, in a moment that felt like time standing still, Manon kissed you.

It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it sent shivers down your spine. You felt like you were melting into her, like you were becoming one person.

As you pulled back, gasping for air, you saw the smile on Manon's face. It was a smile of joy, of happiness, of love.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled back, feeling like you were on cloud nine. "I'm glad you did," you said, your voice filled with emotion.

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

You and Manon decided to go on a proper date, to celebrate your newfound feelings. You both agreed that it would be nice to get out of the dorm and explore the town.

Manon suggested a quaint little Italian restaurant that she had been wanting to try, and you agreed. You made a reservation for that evening, and spent the rest of the day counting down the hours until your date.

You felt a little nervous, but Manon's smile put you at ease. You were greeted by the hostess and led to your table, where you spent the next few hours enjoying delicious food and wine, and getting to know each other better.

The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself laughing and joking with Manon like you had known her for years. You talked about everything from your favorite books and movies, to your childhood memories and dreams for the future.

As the evening drew to a close, you walked Manon back to her dorm, feeling like you were on cloud nine. You had never felt such a strong connection with someone before, and you couldn't wait to see where things would go from here.

As you stood outside Manon's dorm, you turned to her and smiled. "I had an amazing time tonight," you said, your voice filled with sincerity.

Manon smiled back, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I had an amazing time too," she said. "Would you like to do it again sometime soon?"

You nodded eagerly, feeling like you were floating on air. "Definitely," you said. "How about tomorrow night?"

Manon laughed, a playful glint in her eye. "You're eager, aren't you?" she teased.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Maybe just a little," you admitted.

Manon smiled, her expression softening. "I like that," she said. "Tomorrow night sounds perfect."

As you leaned in to kiss her goodnight, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

—

You finished getting dressed in your usual baggy outfit, feeling comfortable and relaxed. You headed downstairs, where Manon was waiting for you, looking stylish and put-together as always.

"Ready?" she asked, smiling at you.

You nodded, and Manon held out her hands, expecting you to take them. You felt a little flutter in your chest as you intertwined your fingers with hers, feeling a sense of excitement and nervousness.

Manon led the way, walking confidently through the dorm and out into the cool evening air. You followed her, feeling a sense of trust and reliance on her. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you were happy to follow her lead.

As you walked to the cinema, Manon chatted easily about her day, telling you about her classes and her friends. You listened attentively, feeling grateful for her presence in your life.

When you arrived at the cinema, Manon bought your tickets and led you to the concession stand. "What do you want to eat?" she asked, smiling at you.

You shrugged, feeling a little indecisive. "Whatever you want," you said.

Manon laughed and ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas. You carried the snacks while Manon led the way to the theater.

As you found your seats and settled in for the movie, Manon reached for your hand again, intertwining your fingers with hers. You felt a sense of comfort and security, knowing that she was there with you.

As the movie started, you and Manon settled in, watching the opening scenes with interest. But as the film progressed, you found yourself becoming more and more aware of Manon's presence beside you.

You felt her hand in yours, her fingers intertwined with yours in a gentle but firm grasp. You felt her arm against yours, her shoulder brushing against yours as you both laughed at a funny moment in the movie.

As the tension in the film built, you found yourself leaning in closer to Manon, your heads almost touching as you both watched the screen with rapt attention. You could feel her warm breath on your skin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Manon seemed to sense your movement, and she turned to you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. You met her gaze, feeling a jolt of electricity as your eyes locked.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the movie forgotten. Then, without thinking, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.

Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.

The movie played on, forgotten, as you and Manon lost yourselves in the moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, the world around you melting away as you focused on the sensation of Manon's lips against yours.

Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.

"I guess we got a little distracted," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Just a little," you replied, your voice equally soft.

Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I don't mind," she whispered. "I liked it."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.

You and Manon decided to get a little more romantic, sharing another kiss or two in the darkness of the theater. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.

Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.

The movie played on, forgotten, as you and Manon lost yourselves in the moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, the world around you melting away as you focused on the sensation of Manon's lips against yours.

As you kissed, you felt a sense of connection with Manon that you'd never felt before. It was like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, and you knew that you were meant to be together.

Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.

"I think we've made our point," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "I guess we have," you replied, your voice equally soft.

Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I'm so glad we did," she whispered. "I feel like I've been waiting for this moment for so long."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.

"I'm glad too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion.

As the movie came to an end, you and Manon reluctantly pulled apart, smiling at each other like fools. You knew that this was just the beginning of something special, something that would change your life forever.

You walked out of the theater hand in hand, feeling like you were on top of the world. You knew that you had found your soulmate in Manon, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for you both.

As you strolled through the quiet streets, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. You knew that you had found your perfect match, and you were grateful for every moment you spent with Manon.

And as you looked into her eyes, you knew that you would love her forever.

[exhaslo]

Hello! This is something kind of niche but I was wondering if you could write a Pornstar!Miguel x Pornstar!Fem!Reader, where he is a new pornstar and meets with her the day before their shoot. He’s like super sweet to her and they have an informal hangout/date to like be comfortable around each other. Reader tries their best to ease his worry him cuz he seems kinda shy, but the day of their shoot he’s a total freak in the sheets and it totally catches her off guard? Dirty talk, dom and all.

I love your writing so much and I know you’ll do a great job writing whatever your heart desires for this one! Thx in advance <333

No lie this sounds cute as fuck! Here we go!

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, rough sex, dirty talk

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It was another beautiful day. You were ready to receive your next paycheck, but first, you had to help the new guy. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you walked into a popular coffee shop. You were actually excited for this secret meetup. Normally, it was informal to meet your coworkers before a shoot, but this new guy? Oh, he was your type!

You were a pornstar. It is a long story on how you got into the business, but you were good at acting. A little too good. As you waited in line, you let out a soft sigh. While the paychecks were nice, you were really ready for something new. Cue, your manager making you a teacher and setting you up with newbies.

"Two extra shots of espresso." You muttered, trying to avoid groaning at the thought.

Despite the struggle of your job, you were eager for tomorrow. The new porn star, Miguel, was going to be your next partner. You saw his file and the man was huge and good looking. He was the one who actually asked to meet you in person. It was cute how shy he sounded over the phone.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel waves slowly, sitting in a corner table. You approached him with your drink,

"Hi, Miguel!" You said with a chirp, "My god, you're so tall."

"Sorry," Miguel went to shake your hand before immediately sitting down towards your comment.

You sat across from him, admiring his features. The man chose to become a porn star than a model? He was going to be an instant lady killer! Hopefully his acting was decent.

"Thanks again for meeting me. As you can tell, I'm a little nervous with this being my first shoot and all." Miguel said. You smiled,

"It's no biggie. It's kind of fun breaking the rules like this. Why don't we just chat about ourselves, get more comfortable with each other? I'm sure it will help you out a lot." You offered.

Miguel took the suggestion and the two of you spoke for hours. There was a chemistry there and you sensed it. You were disappointed when you had to leave for the night. Miguel parted ways with and kiss to your hand. He was such a gentleman! You were already imagining the slow and soft sex he was going to give you tomorrow.

It would be different for sure, but you were looking forward to it. Hopefully, Miguel won't disappoint you like all of your other coworkers. It was frustrating to work in the porn industry, but could never cum in your own videos. You always had to fake an orgasm and pleasure yourself later.

"Let's not think of the negative! Just...look forward for tomorrow," You told yourself.

-----------

"Alright, you know the rules. First shoot, newbie gets to pick the theme. We will go from there afterwards," Your manager called out to the crew.

You glanced at Miguel, seeing him nervously look around, "Hey, it's going to be okay. I promise I won't bite, unless you want me too."

"Haha," Miguel smiled towards you, "Is it okay if we do something simple?"

"You get to pick. Why not something that will get you in the mood?" You suggested and showed him the costume room, "Is there something you want to see me wear?"

Miguel looked around, his eyes sparkling at some of the outfits. He glanced back at you,

"I know what I want to do."

---------

"Mhm~ I don't have any money for this massage~ Is there any other way I can pay you?"

You laid against a soft bed, spreading your naked legs apart. Your gaze towards Miguel as you slowly rubbed your own clit. Miguel had chosen a massage sex scene. Something where he could feel your body to get you prepped. How kind and generous of him. You hummed sweetly, faking a moan as you dove your fingers towards your hole.

"No money? That's fine, I'll just have to massage one more place before you can leave."

You're eyes widen as Miguel removed his pants. He hovered over you, stealing your lips in a forceful kiss before his hands roamed your body. You pressed yourself against him, your hand heading towards his cock. Miguel grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head before growling lowly,

"I'm giving the massage. Not you, chica (girl)"

For once, you felt a shiver run down your spine. What happened to the shy man from yesterday? You're eyes widen as Miguel's fingers started to enter your pussy. He started with one, stretching you out more than some of your coworker's dicks. You raised your hips slightly, wanting to help him get more access, but once again he pinned you down.

"Tsk, tsk, do you come onto all your massage therapists?" Miguel spat lowly, "Being such a slut?"

You shivered once more to his cruel tone. He sucked against your breasts while another finger entered your pussy. Miguel's fingers were wandering around your gummy walls, searching for that sweet spot. This was different. You're eyes widen once he curled his fingers, making you moan for real.

"That's right. Pay your bill in full." Miguel whispered.

You gasped lowly as Miguel pumped his fingers against that spot. He removed himself from your breasts, keeping you held down. His thumb pressed against your clit, causing you to squirm under him. Miguel just kept making eye contact with you. It was as if he wanted to watch you break because of him.

"What a slutty face. You like this kind of massage right?"

"Y-Yes." You whimpered, feeling your body burn with pleasure.

This was actually happening. You felt a tight knot growing in your lower abdomen. Miguel's fingers only went faster. It wasn't long until he entered a third finger that really made you break. You arched your back, moaning and whining as he wrecked your pussy with just his fingers alone. With one more curl, you finally felt that tight tension burst.

"You're getting my work area dirty, that's going to cost extra."

You were panting softly from your intense orgasm. Miguel withdrew his fingers, causing you to shiver slightly. You were feeling the need, the want. Your pussy was throbbing and begging to be filled. Miguel was the first person who actually made you cum. You gasped, forcing a smile as you saw him position his dick right against your folds.

He was fucking big! You spread your legs, teasing your entrance for him. This was just part of the job. Miguel grunted as he grabbed your legs, placing them over his shoulders. He bit against your inner thigh before pushing his dick inside you. You whimpered, arching your back as you pretended to be fine.

Miguel's dick was stretching you out. This was a first. His dick felt hot and strong. Once he was fully inside you, Miguel pinched your clit, causing you to moan and whine. He smirked, pounding the life out of your pussy, breaking you down even more.

"So fucking tight. You don't get much exercise here, do you?" He mocked.

You moaned in response, focusing a little too much on how good this felt. His dick beating against your pussy with each rough and wet slap of his hips. His tip kissing your cervix each time, threatening to remind you that this was his moment. You were his fuck toy. You whined, your eyes nearly rolling back as Miguel rubbed your clit again.

"You're going to have to come back. I'm going to have to remind this pussy that it owes me payment." Miguel grunted as he went faster.

You felt your growing orgasm once more. Miguel held your body down against the bed, pressing his dick further inside you. Your mouth formed an 'o' as you started to see stars. Whimpers and moans were all you were able to say as you cam hard against his dick. Even after a second orgasm, you still could not believe that this was happening.

"That's a good fucking sign. My little slut is finally relaxing," Miguel spat as he griped your hips tightly, cumming inside you.

Your body trembled as you felt his hot, sticky load fill you. With a pop, Miguel pulled out, leaving your pussy a mess. A mixture of your juices and his cum pouring out of your abused hole.

"Cut! Good job (Y/N), Miguel! I think that's going to be a killer!" You managed yelled out.

"Are you okay?" Miguel asked as he helped you up. You panted softly, regaining your composure,

"Y-Yeah,"

"I didn't go overboard, did I? You're not hurt?" He kept asking, giving you a towel to wrap yourself with.

"You did amazing. I'm the opposite of hurt," You told him as the two of you walked towards the showers, "In fact, you did something none of my other coworkers could do."

"I did?"

"Yes, and I would love to be your partner for ongoing shoots. If not, then...maybe we can meet outside of work?" You whispered the last part to him, feeling slightly embarrassed. Miguel just smiled,

"I would love that."

You watched Miguel enter the shower first, wondering to which part he agreed to. Unsure, you followed him into the shower, still daydreaming about his dick.

You found out afterwards that Miguel agreed to both.

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I hope you liked it!!! Not really sure how porn videos actually work, haha

[arvandus]

The Beauty of Broken Things

Barbatos x GN!Reader

Content warnings: SFW; reader with (vague) mental health issues; Reader has self-deprecating thoughts and low self-esteem; hurt/comfort; lots of dialogue; romance; first kiss (cuz I'm a sap 💚)

Author's Note: Not me coming out of hiatus to drop this at 1:20am on a weekday. ANYWAY.... I was going through it a month or so ago and this was very therapeutic and self-indulgent to write. Hopefully you'll find some comfort in it as well. 💚

You creep into the RAD greenhouse under the cover of the Devildom darkness.  The warm yellow lights, usually on to allow students to observe and take notes,  are turned off for the evening, causing the devildom flora to transform from something familiar to something alien, branches reaching like arms and long, pointed leaves stretched out like grasping fingers.

But despite the sinister threat of danger that is interlaced in the native plant life, it still feels comforting.  The gnarled limbs and black leaves feel more protective than threatening, arching over your head to provide a canopy of privacy in the quiet, uninhabited space.

Usually the greenhouse is a bustle of student activity, with botany classes often perusing the aisles with their notebooks and art students lingering with their sketchbooks.  But classes had long since ended, the busy chaos of academia ushered away by the sinking of the large Devildom moon, bringing with it night within night.

You need this.  You need the silence, the privacy, the darkness.  The House of Lamentation doesn’t offer it.  The Demon Lord’s castle is also not an option as you don’t want to impose purely for the sake of self-isolation.

No, this is perfect.  It is safe, safer than losing yourself in the real forests that press against the outskirts of the Devildom.  It is a place for hiding, a place for becoming invisible.  It is a place that makes you feel small, from the tightly clustered plants around you to the vast starry sky that slowly rotates high beyond the confines of the glass ceiling.  You could almost pretend you’re a bug, an insect, or some other small life form who’s only purpose is to exist in the here and now, moment to moment. 

Maybe then you could find peace in your mind; maybe that voice of sickness and lies that whispered louder than any demon would fall silent.

Not all days were this bad.  But the added stress, the fatigue.... you knew it was only a matter of time before you found yourself dangerously close to that pitch black rock bottom. You felt it encroaching, a shadow teasing the edges of your mind, and you knew... you knew you had to find somewhere to gather yourself, to work through it without interruption or curious eyes.

This helps.  A place of quiet, of privacy, of nature, even if the nature isn’t your own.  In its own alien way, it’s perfect.

Perfect, but also lonely. You both love and hate it, glad to be unnoticed for once but vulnerable against the rare isolation.  Rare, but not unfamiliar.  You sit with it; let it soak into your bones.  Like putting on old shoes that still fit, worn soles perfectly conformed to your feet, your mind eases into accepting that familiar ache, a feeling not often experienced anymore, but still deeply rooted in old memories and dreams.  The old loneliness hollows you out, slows the blood rushing through your veins as your mind eventually quiets to a low hum of white noise.  It brings its own twisted kind of peace; not the healthy kind that heals and rejuvenates, but the broken kind that separates you from yourself, an act of cutting rather than mending.

If you could turn to stone in this moment, you would.

But not even this will last forever, your quiet reverie interrupted by the sound of the door to the greenhouse opening and closing.  The sound of the click and the creak of the hinge is startling against the endless quiet, and it makes you jolt.  You fight the irrational urge to hide within the surrounding shrubbery, as if such an act would truly hide you at all, and instead curl in on yourself with arms and legs crossed on the stone bench where you sit.

Whoever it is, is as silent as a ghost; you hear no footsteps, nor sounds of breath.  Whoever it is does not speak, so you know instantly it is not any of the brothers or even Diavolo.  But you feel their presence, and you know they feel yours.  There is an awareness in the air that wasn’t present before, the atmosphere going from one of empty quiet, to buzzing consciousness.

A moment later, a familiar pair of polished black shoes come into your field of view, attached to a familiar set of legs that stand formally in a way that only a royal butler could accomplish.

You look up and your eyes meet Barbatos, who stares down at you with a calm, curious expression and a slight tilt of his head.  He’s still dressed in his RAD uniform, but his white gloves are removed, likely tucked into the interior chest pocket of his tailcoat.

“MC,” he says gently.  “I did not expect you to be here. You do know that the RAD campus is closed, yes?”

“I know,” you reply. 

Even so, you make no motion to move, your body still curled within itself protectively.  It isn’t so much to protect against him, but to hold onto that feeling of smallness that helps to separate you from the ache in your chest and the cacophony of your mind. 

“Why are you here?” you ask.

“Some of the flora require care after school hours, so I tend to them prior to locking up for the evening.”

“Ah.” Your sour mood strips you of your warmth, your words fading away as you retreat back into yourself.

Barbatos stares at you for a moment longer, before gesturing to the bench. “May I?”

You return his stare with your own before moving over just enough to make room for him.  The bench is small, comfortable for one, a slight squeeze for two, but he sits nonetheless, seemingly unbothered.  The proximity of him is a brand and a blessing, the heat of him surprisingly comforting while your heart thuds harder in your chest.  You’re rarely ever this close to him, any prior instances of physical contact occurring out of necessity rather than choice.

You both sit in silence for a long time.  You aren’t sure if he is expecting an explanation from you, but you couldn’t give one even if you wanted to, the struggles within yourself too tangled to fully unravel, especially with how weathered you feel.

Finally, after a few minutes, he is the one to break the silence, the smooth richness of his voice breaking the quiet that sits like a bridge between you.

“I often find the Devildom flora more beautiful in the dark.”

It is an olive branch, and you take it, a small smile curling the corners of your lips.

“Me too,” you reply.  “It feels more natural this way. When the lights are on, it feels like we’re trying to force the plants and flowers to be something they’re not.”

Barbatos stares at you for a long, quiet moment before returning his gaze ahead of him.  “Indeed. Things are more beautiful when they are allowed to be themselves.”

A sentiment you share, and yet it isn’t one you can extend to yourself, and it cuts you.

“I wish that were always true...” you mutter.

It’s a thought whispered past private lips, and you regret them instantly when his keen, green eyes, nearly black in the darkness, flick back to you.

“Why would it not be?” he asks.

You shift uncomfortably and swallow the lump that suddenly manifests where your voice is supposed to be.

“I don’t know...” you finally mutter evasively.

You feel his eyes lingering on you, and it feels as if he can read the dark thoughts that live there, shadow where sunlight should be.  But if he can read your mind, he doesn’t say so, and he doesn’t pry further.

Instead, Barbatos does something that you do not expect.  His hand covers yours, untangling your fingers from your tightly clasped palms that sit in your lap.  His touch is warm, warmer than you thought it’d be, and you can’t help but wonder how different his body really is from yours when it feels so human.

You watch as Barbatos twines his fingers with yours, a simple but shockingly intimate action.  It’s surprisingly comforting, fulfilling a longing within you that you didn’t even realize you carried so heavily until just now; an anchor of companionship, unwavering in its simplicity, gentle in its unassuming nature.  There’s a lack of expectation in Barbatos’s touch, a quiet acceptance of the here and now, of the you of this moment, rather than the ‘you’ that you always present to others, or the ‘you’ that others expect of you.

It makes something within you surrender.  It forces the dissociation from your mind, pulling you instantly back into reality, into your body. Barbatos’s tenderness, given freely without price, carves a space for itself within your chest, and it hurts, the sudden sharpness of vulnerability an open wound.  That vulnerability is unfamiliar, raw, terrifying. It calls forth your fears, makes the voices of wrongness sing louder than ever, listing all of the ways you are undeserving of this moment.  And you’re angry, angry at their presence, and their ability to ruin even this for you, to taint something peaceful and beautiful with something so ugly.

The tears finally come, blurring your vision and spilling over silently onto your cheeks.  More come immediately after, and you sniff, your nose starting to run as you wipe at your face.  A handkerchief appears within your view, and you take it, your heart too shy and embarrassed to look at Barbatos properly or even offer him a mumbled thank you.  But he shows no discomfort or disdain for your tears or lack of manners. Instead, he sits quietly with you, waiting patiently as he holds your hand securely within his own, his thumb rubbing soothing strokes on the soft skin between your thumb and index finger.

Quietly you cry, and quietly he waits.  Each second longer that you cry is a confession of your imperfection, your brokenness, and each second longer that Barbatos stays by your side is an acceptance, a forgiveness.  And so, without even speaking to one another, the very act of this shared moment provides a cleansing of your heart that you’d never felt before.  Each drop of salty water is a purge, a release.  There’s an amusing irony to it; an exorcism of sorts in a place where God isn’t welcome, supported by a creature who’s existence came from darkness.

The catharsis brings release, and the release brings fatigue.  The rigidness of your spine gives way to something more pliable, and you lean your head against his shoulder as you continue to weep, albeit gentler now that the worst of it has passed.  Barbatos lets you, his thumb barely missing a beat in its strokes against your hand.  He makes no effort to increase his physical reassurance; no arm around your shoulder, no leaning of his head against the crown of yours.  You’re grateful for it, not quite ready to be touched so completely.  Maybe soon... after all, the thought does entice you... but not yet. Not when your heart is still raw and tender.

No, this is perfect. It’s just enough.

Finally, the floodwaters of your heart recede, and you wipe away the last traces of wetness from your cheeks with his silk handkerchief. It’s damp with tears and snot now, and you know you’ll have to wash it before returning it to him.  You fiddle with it with your free hand, your thumb tracing along the cursive B that is sewn into its corner with dark thread, the color muted to black in the dark.

Your hands are still intertwined with each other, your head still resting against his shoulder, and you’re grateful for it as you find the courage to finally speak, your eyes still trained on that cursive B.

Your voice is quiet, hushed by hesitancy.  “Barbatos...I have a question...”

“Hm?”

“When I die, and my soul leaves my body.... does.... does that mean that the mental illness won’t be there anymore?  Does that part get left behind?”

“Ah,” Barbatos says softly, his voice rich with understanding. “I see.”

You sit up, although his hand still holds yours; after all, you haven’t pulled away yet.  But your eyes... your eyes are downcast, the shame of your breakdown too heavy regardless of Barbatos’s tenderness.

Now that you’ve finally confessed your fear it becomes easier to speak, and the words come more freely.  “I’m just... I’m tired of being this way.  Feeling this way, thinking this way.  It’s always there, like this big, lurking monster that I can’t escape from. Except it’s a part of me. I don’t know who I am without it. And I’m—” tears choke your words, but you force yourself to continue even as your eyes once again brim and sting.  “I’m just so afraid that it’ll never go away. Even when I die, and my soul is separated from this broken fucking body—”

A long, slender finger covers your lips, halting your impending tirade of self-loathing.  It forces you to finally look at him, and you’re surprised to see how deep the concern goes within his dark gaze.

“Shh,” he says.  “Don’t say such things.  It does the richness of all that you are a disservice.”

His words stun you into silence, and you stare at him wide-eyed.  He holds your gaze for a moment longer before taking the handkerchief from your clenched fist.  You start to protest, embarrassed at the state of it, but he ignores your concerns and uses a relatively clean spot to wipe away your new tears.

You fall silent as he cares for you, and in that silence, he begins to speak.

“You humans so often like to label and categorize things, an attempt at making sense of the world around you when you’re forever doomed to know so little. Lines of comparison drawn on a beach, not realizing that in the end, it’s all made of sand.”

You frown. “I don’t understand.”

“What you’re speaking of is a sickness of the mind, correct?”

“Yes, that’s one way to put it...”

Barbatos takes your palm in his hand and turns it face up.  “I’ve heard you humans often use the term ‘mind, body, and soul’ as if they are all separate.  Back when I spent time in the human realm, humans treated the soul as synonymous with the heart and the mind as synonymous with the brain, both housed within the body.”  With his finger, he draws one large circle, and within it, places two dots vertically spaced from each other.

You stare at your palm as you ponder his words.  “Yes,” you say, “that idea still lingers... sort of...”

 You take his hand in yours, and draw your own circles – a small, a medium, and a large, all inset within each other like a target.

“I think... I see the soul and mind as synonymous of each other, in way, that they depend on each other. Or...”

 You hesitate, your fears surfacing again as you stare at Barbatos’s open palm.

 “I think...” you continue slowly, “I think I’m afraid that they’re the same thing. That the soul only exists because of the mind. If that’s true, then if my mind is broken, then so is my soul, and I’ll be carrying that brokenness with me forever.  It’s like... trying to forge something using a metal riddled with impurities.  The integrity will always be compromised, no matter how beautiful the shape in the end.”

Barbatos’s open hand closes around yours, cradling your fingertips that still rest against his skin. He turns your hand over palm up again.

“Imagine this” – he draws a large circle – “is your body. And this” – he draws a smaller circle within it – “is your mind.”

You wait for the third circle, but it never comes.  You frown.

“Where is the soul?”

“Everywhere,” he says.

Your gaze lifts from your open hand to his eyes.  He smiles back at you in quiet mirth, then drops his gaze back to your hand.  His fingers retrace over the larger circle he’d first drawn into your palm.

“Your soul,” he repeats, “is everywhere.”

Confusion once again surfaces in the contours of your face. Barbatos stares at you for a moment as he searches for the words in a way that you can understand.  His eyes sink deep beneath the surface of you, and it makes you shift beneath his gaze.  After a moment he blinks, his amusement returning.

“Perhaps it is my choice of words that is unclear,” he says. “Allow me to try again.” 

He pokes your forehead with his index finger.  “Your mind is not the same as your soul the way you fear.  It is simply consciousness, self-awareness provided you by your biology,” he explains.

“You mean my brain.”

“Yes.”

“So my mind is just another part of my body.”

“Precisely.  Your body is merely the medium through which you experience this life, whether it’s through your senses, such as sight and touch, or through your consciousness.”

He returns to your hand, his fingers tracing the invisible large circle for a third time.

“Your soul, on the other hand, is a different thing entirely.  It isn’t something that can be contained to one organ within you.  Not your heart, not your brain.  It’s deeper than that, richer,” he says quietly, as if sharing a secret.

His touch travels, his fingertips gliding feather-light across your palm, up your wrist, following the tendons and veins to your forearm where goosebumps begin to awaken across your sensitive skin.

“It’s energy.  It’s life,” he continues. “It’s eternal, and it’s woven into every fiber of your being, a golden thread holding you together like the universe’s most exquisite tapestry.”

Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers curve around your forearm until he holds it within his hand, his thumb rubbing gently against the soft skin where your veins rest beneath. His words enrapture you, his touch enthralls you. If there was ever a moment in your life you could stay trapped in forever, it would be this one.

But the moment is short-lived.  Barbatos’s soothing touch halts mid-motion, his expression turning blank, as if he suddenly remembers himself and realizes the growing intimacy of the exchange.  He withdraws his hand, and it leaves a cold emptiness where his warmth had been.

You ponder his words, but it only leads to more questions.

“My soul is everywhere...” you mutter.  “But Barbatos... if it’s woven into my body, then how...?”

“How does your soul pass on after you die?”

You nod.

Barbatos holds his chin in his fingers thoughtfully.  “You are thinking too literally.  Perhaps it is my own failure to find the right words.  Human speech doesn’t offer enough nuance to fully describe something your kind still struggles to understand.”

He ponders a moment longer, his brow knit together in concentration.  Finally his head lifts and his gaze meets yours.  “Ah.  Perhaps we can describe it as such.  Your body is made of matter, correct? And if you look deep enough, you know that all matter is made up of atoms.  But not even atoms ever completely touch.” He takes your hand in one of his and holds it up, your palm facing him, as he brings his other hand within a hair’s breadth; close enough to feel the heat emanating off of him, but not actually touching.  “There’s a negative space, ever present yet so infinitesimal that you’d never know it’s there.”  His hand finally touches yours, his fingers aligned with yours as he splays them out.  “It is this space that your soul exists, interwoven, encapsulating every atom of what you are.”

You’re staring at your touching hands, wide-eyed now, as you take in what he’s told you.  The scope of it feels nearly too vast to properly comprehend, despite how hard you try.

“It’s all very... complicated...” you mutter as you finally lower your hand back to your lap.

“Hm, is it?” Barbatos replies with a curious tilt of his head.  “Here then, another example, but simpler.  If you were to lose a limb, would it damage your soul?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re separate.”

And finally, it clicks for you. 

Barbatos smiles.  “Precisely.  So, if a lost limb will not damage your soul, then why should a damaged mind?”

The weightlessness of relief begins to spread from the center of your chest, and you release a long, deep breath.

“I see,” you say.  “So when I die...”

“When you die, your soul continues on, transformed, as your body decays.”

The balloon of relief breaks and you do a doubletake.  “...transformed?”

Barbatos nods.  “Yes, by your experiences and choices in this life.”

Once again that despair rears, the dark void opening beneath your feet as you cling to your dwindling hope. You once again wrap your arms around yourself protectively, as if you are the only one who can keep yourself from falling, despite the presence of the demon directly in front of you.

“But... Barbatos,” you protest, “sometimes mental illnesses can cause people to make bad choices.  Wrong choices.  Hurtful choices.  If those can impact the soul, then wouldn’t that mean the soul does get damaged? Or tainted?”

Barbatos falls silent for a long moment, and you avoid looking into his eyes, your gaze downcast.  His hand reaches out and covers your forearm reassuringly, but your arms remain crossed.

“As a demon, I cannot attest to how just the Celestial Realm’s rules are.  I, for one, find them to be rather suffocating and arbitrary, lacking in nuance.  But even I would be shocked if such things weren’t taken into consideration when it is time for a soul to be set upon the scales of judgment.”

Scales of judgment... the idea makes you nauseous.

Barbatos’s touch to your forearm is replaced by both of his hands on your arms just below the shoulders.  You can tell from the way he moves that he is ducking his head lower in an attempt to catch your avoiding eyes, but you keep  yourself hidden lest your tears return.

“MC....” he says softly,  “are you worried that you will be judged unfairly when your time comes?”

It takes a moment for you to find your voice, and when you do it’s thicker, heavy under the weight of emotions.  “Maybe... or maybe I’m worried I’ll be judged fairly.”

“If you do not go to heaven when your time comes, then the Celestial Realm truly is run by fools.”

His words surprise you, and you finally catch his gaze, amusement beneath a raised, sarcastic brow.  Your skin grows hot and you avert your eyes for a different reason, your shoulders lifting slightly in subtle retreat.

“Well,” you continue, “you said yourself that the soul gets transformed during this life.  I’ve made some not-so-great choices, so far.  I’ve done things I regret; hurt people I’ve loved and even people I didn’t.  What if my soul is not as good as I hope?”

Barbatos gives a soft scoff of amusement, his brows pinching up in the center as he stares at you in wry amusement.  “My dear, the very idea that your soul is anything but good is quite literally an impossibility.”

Your tension loosens slightly. “How do you know?”

The corner of one side of his mouth quirks up slightly. “Well, to start, I am a demon. And as one of the oldest demons, I have devoured countless souls across my lifetime.  If anyone is to be an expert on the quality of a soul it would be me.”

Something about the way he talks so simply about his violence, combined with his intimate kindness, makes you feel lightheaded.

It takes an extra heartbeat for you to find enough air in your lungs to speak.  “And, uh...what does a demon such as yourself consider high quality?”

Barbatos stares distantly, and for a moment he feels ancient.  When he speaks, his voice seems almost otherworldly, holding a resonance to it that wasn’t there before.  “It varies from demon to demon.  Some enjoy the flavor of corruption upon a soul, some prefer the sweet, crisp freshness of innocence and purity... but all human souls possess something that ours lack, something that makes us crave.  We’re drawn to it, in the way your human realm plants are drawn to sunlight.” He pauses and shakes his head.  “No, perhaps that analogy is too mild.  It is more how the Devildom’s Succubus’s Kiss lures its victims into its choking vines with the sweet promise of fruit.”

You swallow for a moment, your throat suddenly dry as you stare at your now empty palms where your longing for him sits abandoned.

“You make it sound as if humans are the dangerous ones,” you chide.

A half-hearted attempt at a joke, but Barbatos chuckles nonetheless.

“Yes; perhaps you are.”

You can’t tell in this moment if he’s referring to ‘you’ as in humanity, or ‘you’ as in something far more personal.  It only makes the curiosity sharper, honed on the whetstone of your pining.

“And my soul...” you continue, “what do you sense, Barbatos?”

Dread immediately follows your bold and vulnerable question, fearing what he must inevitably see in you.  Is Barbatos the type to enjoy the flavor of corruption, to find value in broken things?  Or is he more of a purist, always a keen eye for perfection?  You fear you already know the answer as you take in his crisp RAD uniform, his perfectly smooth features.  Your gaze falls downward, an attempt to hide what you’re sure he already knows.

One heartbeat, two.  Then your chin is being tilted up by his thumb and forefinger until your eyes are forced to meet his.  There’s a hint of luminescence in them, the green noticeable now where it wasn’t before, pushing against the dark monotone of night that previously washed his irises in near-black. His eyes are searching, seeking, finding, and you can feel the magic, the power that unravels every defense, every barrier.  Finally, his gaze settles, the green quiets to a deep, sleeping forest of pine in winter.  It’s peaceful; soothing.

If Barbatos’s earlier release of your arm was to provide distance from the growing intimacy between you, then the attempt was in vain.  Because now the affection in his gaze is unmistakable, the deep shadowy green cradling you the way his fingers cradle your chin. It weakens you, makes you feel like putty in his touch.

“You glow,” Barbatos whispers, “like sunlight trapped in ripples. It’s blinding, and yet so beautiful I find it impossible to look away.  I can feel it in you, emanating like heat from a hearth, and it makes me long for a home I’ve never had.”

The hum of his voice makes you shiver, goosebumps forming across your skin.  The adoration in his eyes falters briefly, the lingering green fading to black, giving way to a dark, ancient sorrow.

“I think,” he continues, “it’s a glimpse of what heaven must feel like.  A small piece of divinity passed down to you from your ancestor.”

His fingers release your chin, but the vulnerability remains, if not slightly muted due to the distance imposed by the lack of physical contact.

“I am different from Lucifer and his brothers in that I was never an angel.  I came into existence exactly as I am, and as such I’ve never known divinity.  And yet... despite never knowing it, there is still a strange... hunger for it.  It is a peculiar thing to miss something you’ve never known.”

“You... long for Heaven?” you ask him.

Barbatos tilts his head thoughtfully, his gaze absent somewhere past your shoulder. “Not so much Heaven the place. It’s more so the purity, the grace, to feel that sense of wholeness that the divine offers. It’s why we are drawn to human souls.  Angels, you see, are far too potent. Too much divinity hurts a demon; it can even kill them.  But you... you humans have just enough of both worlds within you to allow us a taste.  It can be rather addictive, especially for younger demons who have not yet had enough millennia to control their hunger.”

His pupils dilate in the dark as he refocuses his gaze.  His eyes meet yours and linger for a moment before slowly drawing down to your parted lips.  “You are a rare case indeed.  More potent in your divinity than the average human, but not enough to hurt.”

You quirk a smile at him.  “Barbatos, are you saying I’m irresistible?”

It is a joke, one you feel comfortable making because of its ridiculousness.  But then he gives you a smile you’ve never seen before that makes your stomach drop and your body awash with heat.  There’s a directness in it, a challenge presented in a wry upward turn of the lips and the glint of teeth in the faint starlight.

“Perhaps,” he says.

You try to brush him off with a scoff and break eye contact, feigning interest in the shape of the black leaves that arch over the both of you in the darkness.

“Now you’re just teasing me,” you mutter.

“Oh? You don’t believe me,” he comments. “Perhaps there is more I can do to convince you then.”

Your heartbeat falters, tripped by hope, and you keep your eyes above and around lest you combust right in front of him. 

“Convince me?” you question.

You’re attempting to feign indifference, to protect yourself from the inevitable rejection you know is coming, because surely he’s not... he doesn’t mean.... he wouldn’t... that look in his eyes earlier... affection yes, but that can mean anything...

Barbatos takes your chin in his fingers and pulls gently until you have nowhere else to look but directly at him. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, into him.  There’s a flicker there, a glow of swirling green, like nebulae trapped within his vastness.

“Indeed,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath upon your parted lips.  You realize he’s closer than you anticipated, closer than ever before.

 Your lightheadedness is returning, and your genuinely afraid you’ll faint, so you force yourself to keep speaking.

“What kind of convincing?” you ask.

He smiles that smile again, the one that turns your insides molten.  “The kind that doesn’t require words, since you seem to doubt them so fervently.” 

His thumb draws gently across your lower lip, his half-lidded gaze transfixed.  “Would you like to be convinced?” he mutters.

You swallow and answer honestly. 

“Yes.”

Barbatos’s eyes return to yours and his lips curl into a soft, genuine smile.  He closes what’s left of the distance, his warm lips capturing yours as his fingers release your chin in favor of gently cupping your jawline.

You close your eyes and reciprocate, your hand resting against his chest.

It’s gentle, soft, and for all of his heavy flirting just a moment ago, it is as unassuming as when he’d first held your hand.  It washes away the last dredges of worry, calms the ever-present unease that always lingers.  The clouds of your mind finally part, even if just for this moment, and for the first time in a long while, you feel feather-light as a peaceful warmth spreads from head to toe to the tips of your fingers.

When your lips part, Barbatos keeps his hand on your cheek and plants a gentle peck to your forehead.

“Now, believe me when I say you are beautiful.  Believe me when I say that you are good.  And most importantly, believe me when I say that I am always here for you.”

Your choked by emotion, your eyes once again burning, but this time for a different reason entirely.

“Even when I’m being sad and pathetic?” you ask, your voice cracking slightly.

Barbatos  puts his forehead against yours as his lips curve into a tender smile.

“Especially then.”

[akamitrani]

— Backstage Pass —

David Howard Thornton x Fem!Reader (Pt.1?)

Warnings: Mild suggestive, flirting (and the massive amount of tension that comes with it), release of the tension, slow burn.

Summary: You manage to get backstage access to a Terrifier panel where David is present, you end up striking a conversation with him and one thing leads to another.

[A/N: Hi guys, this is my first ever published fanfic – Be kind ☠️ – Sorry if anything lol. Btw, I hope y'all like to read fr cuz this fanfic surely is for readers]

[ · · · ]

The low hum of the convention floor buzzed around you, but for the moment, it felt as though the world had quieted down. You stood backstage, just outside the makeshift white room where David was preparing for a panel at the horror convention. Your excitement of meeting the actor behind Art the Clown was palpable, it was the man himself – the warm, approachable, and genuine David

You had spent the better part of the day anxiously navigating your way through autograph lines, fan meet-and-greets and photo ops, but now, standing backstage, you had a rare chance to speak with him outside the chaos. You never expected an encounter like this but here you were, a quiet moment with the very man who had terrified and fascinated you all at once

David’s head peeked from behind the curtains, his bright blue eyes meeting yours – “Hey! You’re the one who was talking about makeup techniques earlier, right?” – his voice had a casual charm, free of any of the sinister vibes Art was known for

You nodded, a bit stunned that he’d even remembered you from earlier in the day – “I'm Y/N by the way... And yeah, I’m just starting to get into prosthetics, but I love how the horror community brings so many elements together”

He smiled, a grin that reached his eyes and softened the sharpness of his features – “Y/N. And oh I totally get that. There’s something about horror that feels like a puzzle, you know? Acting, makeup, lighting… everything needs to come together for the whole thing to work”

It felt like a small moment of mutual understanding, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to his enthusiasm. Here was David, the man behind the terrifying clown, speaking with such openness.

“So...” – David said after a beat, his tone playful – “what’s your favorite kind of horror?”

“It’s a toss-up but I’d say psychological horror, something that messes with your mind, makes you question what’s real” – You said

He nodded thoughtfully, his expression turning serious for a moment – “Yeah, that kind of horror is powerful. But I have to admit, sometimes I miss just making people jump... It’s a bit of a guilty pleasure for me”

You laughed loud, the sound echoing through the quiet backstage space – “I bet! It’s a great feeling though, knowing you can make people react like that”

David’s eyes lit up, a mischievous glint appearing – “Well... I think we’ve got some time for a little more talking, but it’s not going to be quieter once the panel starts, I'll eventually get busy... You’re sticking around, right?”

You hesitated, the pull of curiosity and excitement making you eager to continue the conversation – “Of course! After the panel, would you like to talk more? What about... Grabbing a drink?”

David raised an eyebrow, the playful smile tugging at his lips again – “Perfect, was just thinking the same thing. And I could definitely use a quiet moment away from the crowd... There's a nice café nearby, just behind the building”

You felt a jolt of anticipation. This was no longer just a fan encounter. The conversation had shifted from polite exchanges to something more personal, a subtle invitation hanging in the air

“Perfect!” – You replied, feeling your nerves melt away – “See you there then”

“I'll be there as soon as the panel is finished" – He replied

[ · · · ]

sorry but I don't have the patience

to write a 'in between' lol

You entered the café David mentioned about earlier, the ambiance was calm as expected. Dave was already there tucked in a corner booth, his eyes eventually meet yours and he sweetly waves at you. Walking in his direction you sat down, wasting no time to start chatting. David had his hands wrapped around his coffee mug, leaning slightly forward, completely engrossed in the story you were telling him

“And that’s when I realized..." – you laughed, glancing down in embarrassment – “I’d been talking to the director with fake blood still smeared all across my cheek!”

David chuckled – “You’d fit right in on a horror set with a story like that” – he said, tilting his head with that trademark playful smile – “Sounds like you were born for the genre”

You felt a warmth rise in your cheeks, not just from the flattery but from the way he looked at you — as if you two were the only people in the room. For someone who could be so chillingly silent in his role as Art, David had an openness and kindness that made you feel immediately at ease

Both of you shared another laugh, you noticed his fingers drumming gently against the ceramic cup, a little habit he seemed unaware of. The small, endearing detail felt so far removed from the menacing persona he played on screen. In that moment, you wondered how many people really got to see him this way, relaxed and unguarded

“So” – David said, breaking the silence – “I have to ask... why horror? Why would you willingly choose a field that involves blood, guts, and a thousand ways to terrify an audience?”

You took a sip of your coffee, considering an answer – “I think it’s the honesty of it... Horror doesn’t hide from what people fear. It embraces it. And creating that… It’s almost like a dance between knowing what scares people and making them feel safe enough to face it. It’s–”

“Powerful” David finished for you, a look of understanding in his eyes – “Yeah. I think I know what you mean” – he paused – “That’s exactly what draws me to it. There’s something about the way people’s walls come down when they’re scared. You can see who they really are”

Your eyes met with his, a silence settled between you and him, charged with something unspoken. You felt a flutter of nervous excitement, this was David Howard Thornton, a master of horror, sharing his personal thoughts with you as if you were an old friend

“Hey-” – David’s voice softened, breaking the tension – “I just realized how late it’s getting. But honestly…” – He glanced down, almost shyly, before looking back up with a small grin – “I don't want this conversation to end just yet”

You hadn't realized how much time had passed, you feel your heart skip – “Me neither...”

He hesitated, then gave a casual shrug – “I have a bottle of wine back at my hotel...” – he said with a hint of playful mischief – “If you’re up for it, we could keep talking there... No pressure though — I promise I’m far less terrifying off the set”

You both laughed, but you felt a thrill run through your body. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect, but the invitation in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, left little room for doubt

“Well...” – you said, mirroring his grin – “as long as you leave the clown mask behind”

David let out a low, warm chuckle and reached out, his hand brushing against yours just briefly – “Deal.”

[ · · · ]

at the hotel

The elevator doors slid open, then shut with a soft thud – the hum of the machine filled the otherwise quiet space between you both. David stood closer, his presence palpable as the two of you ascended to the upper floors. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, the subtle hint of his musky cologne, the faint rustle of his clothes as he shifted slightly

The tension from the café was still there – unspoken, but thick. You could both feel it in the air, like an electric charge that had been building ever since the moment you'd first exchanged words. But now, in this small quiet space, it was almost impossible to ignore

David caught your eye, a soft smirk playing at the corner of his mouth – “I’m glad you agreed to come. It’s nice to get away from the madness for a bit you know”

You nodded but you could feel your heart rate picking up, the proximity between you and him making your thoughts scatter – “Yeah, it’s… really nice” – your voice sounded quieter than usual, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he is standing, how his shoulder brushed against yours every so often

The elevator dinged, signaling the arrival at David’s floor, you both stepped out. David led the way to his room, his long strides confident, though there was a subtle energy about him – something different than the actor you’d seen on stage. The man before them now seemed grounded, a little more vulnerable, but still just as captivating

As you two reached the door, David turned to you with a quiet smile – “Make yourself at home” – he said, pushing the door open and holding it for you to enter. The room was cozy, warmly lit

You stepped in, the scent of fresh linen and something faintly musky lingering in the air, his cologne you thought. You took a moment to glance around but David was already moving toward the small bar area by the window, pouring two glasses of wine

“Care for something?” – he asked, glancing over his shoulder with a playful glint in his eyes

“Sure, why not?” – You replied, voice a little breathless. It was hard to focus on anything other than the man before you, the way he moved, how effortlessly he carried himself. It was a strange mix of charm and allure, the kind of presence that seemed to draw people in without effort

David handed you the glass, his fingers brushing for just a second longer than necessary. His touch lingered, and you both looked up at the same time, locking eyes. There was something in his gaze – soft yet intense.

“Cheers” – he murmured lifting his own glass, clinking your drinks together

The conversation flowed easily at first, light and casual, but the air felt heavier now. David shifted slightly, moving a little closer as he leaned against the back of a chair, eyes never leaving yours. It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was the opposite.

You set your drink down on the table, feeling a quiet tension building – “You know... I never thought I’d end up in a hotel room with someone like you”

David raised an eyebrow – “Someone like me?”

You laughed softly, a little nervous – “Yeah, someone so… different from Art”

David’s smile deepened, and he moved a fraction closer – “I think I’m a little more like Art than you realize” – he teased, there was a softness in his voice and a hint of something else, something that wasn’t just playful

“I don’t know…” – your voice faltering for a moment – “M-maybe you’re right”

David didn’t say anything for a moment, but his gaze darkened just slightly, his focus never wavering. He stepped a little closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the best way

“You know Y/N” he said quietly, almost a whisper – “I’m glad you stayed”

[···]

The silence between you both thickened, hanging in the air. David's gaze softened, his lips parting slightly as though he was considering something. Drawn to the warmth of his presence, you got closer. David didn't move away. Instead, he stood perfectly still, giving you space to decide what to do next. A quiet hunger in the way he looked at you.

“I dont want to rush this” – David said softly, voice low and deliberate – “But, I can't pretend I'm not completely drawn to you”

You reached up, fingers brushing against his arm, the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. David inhaled sharply, his body tensing just a bit at the contact.

“Are you sure?” – he whispered, his hand reached out, fingers barely grazing the edge of your wrist. You nodded, voice barely above a breath – “Yeah, I'm sure.”

David's hand gently cupped the side of your face, thumb grazing the curve of your jaw – savoring every second. David's face was so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin.

His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first. His hands slid down, pulling you closer. He grabs your waist hard and you accidentally let out a small moan... That's when he finally kisses you, letting out a low whimper himself. The kiss gets deeper, sucking and biting. You respond instinctively, fingers threading through his gray hair, drawing him in as the kiss became more urgent, more desperate.

You break the kiss for a moment to catch your breath, foreheads resting against each other and trying to collect yourselves. This had been building all night, ready to break.

“You're incredible” – David murmured, his voice thick with desire

You met his gaze – “I can say the same about you”

“I've wanted this all night” – He confessed

David's hands slid down your back, guiding you firmly towards him, towards his thighs. Now straddling him, your fingers tightened in his hair as his hands moved, exploring the curves of your waist, savoring every detail about it. His hands slid down your dress, up your thighs and finally resting on the hem of your panties... His eyes pledged for yours, for assurance – You nodded

“You're not going to regret this” he whispered

[sjywrites]

Hii can I request Sophia x reader academic rivals? 🥺 u can do whatever u want w the plot pretty much please and thank u so much <3 :)

༊*·˚ ACADEMIC RIVALS LOVERS?

𝓢ophia 𝓛aforteza x 𝓖n!reader. (no pronouns used). 𝓖enre. fluff, angst if you squint 𝓢ypnosis. our two favourite academic rivals have a lil fight, but the situation turns bad, and people realize their feelings. 𝓦𝓒 . 824 𝓒𝓦 . mentions of being hospitalised (sophia), a little angsty!

𝓝ote! this is a little messy since I wrote it during one of my breaks, but please lmk if you want like a part two cuz I really liked this plot!

---

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

At this point it didn’t even matter if you were better than everyone, you just had to be better than her. It started off very simple, both of you wanted to be better than everyone, academically that is. Eagerly waiting to get tests back and see who got a higher score, a smug grin on one's face when they got a better result than the other. No harm in that right? Wrong, that’s what started all of this.

Sophia walked towards me with her head held high, her uniform as neat as ever and her hair styled in a way making her look almost angelic. Wait, what? “What were your results?” She said, slamming her paper on top of my desk, I shook out of my daydreaming to answer her. “96.” I said while looking down in my maths book, trying to solve an equation but still focusing on what she would respond. She looks away and a teasing smirk spreads on her lips, and moves the finger that covered her results, 97. “Guess I’m just better than you huh?” She said proudly, staring down at me “Just because you got one point more than me doesn’t mean you’re better than me.” I said, pouting a little at her accusation.

Lately I’ve been feeling kind of… weird? Even if Sophia gets a higher score than me, I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. “Well, you’ve been slacking off a lot lately, I’ve gotten higher scores than you on the last four tests. So, I think that makes it obvious who's smarter!” Sophia states like it was the most obvious answer to what I said. Staring at her for a moment, I reply. “I've been busy okay, not everyone has that much free time to spend on studying, and you're talented in general, no wonder you get high scores” She looks shocked at my statement, then she smirks a little, “Did you just admit that I'm smart?” She looked proud in some way or another, “Not what I meant Sophia, but whatever floats your boat.” I grab my things from the desk and walk outside the classroom to my locker, a little frustrated at the whole situation. I did miss her response,

“I study that much so you won't think I'm stupid.”

A week goes by, no Sophia in sight. She missed two assignments, she's usually here every day. Even if she's sick, which I don't get why she does, but still. Did something happen to her? Was it something I did?

“You've been zoning out for the past like, three periods, what is going on with you today?” Lara, my best friend asks. “Do you know where Sophia is?” I ask, not really thinking before I ask. “Why do you want to know, don't you guys like, hate each other?” She looks at me with a very questionable look, suspecting something I cannot grasp, “Yes? No? I don't know Lara, but do you know where she is?” I say, a little confused and concerned. She looks at me with sad eyes before replying, “Y/N, Sophia got really sick out of nowhere, I heard she's at the hospital.” My eyes blew wide at the shocking news, why didn't she tell me? No, why would she do that? We're not even friends.

—

Am I really doing this? I think to myself as I open the hospital doors and stumble up to the kind-looking man in the lobby. I strike up a casual conversation with him as he guides me to a room, I thank him quickly before he scurries away.

There in the little window on the door I see her, Sophia's sitting down on the bed. Her hair is a mess and her clothes look ridiculous, it looks like she hasn't slept for a few days too. I gently open the door and her gaze falls upon me, it's easier to see her face now. She looks tired, really tired. “Hey…” I say, she looks away from me and cuddles up in her sitting position. “What are you doing here?” she tries to sound annoyed, but it just comes out in a tired huff. “I heard what happened, I… was worried about you. I brought some notes from the classes you missed.” She looks shocked at my confession, she relaxes her posture and her gaze becomes soft. “Thank you… I really appreciate it.” She smiles a little as she grabs the papers I handed her, our hands touching softly.

I look at her, really look at her. For the first time actually having time to admire how pretty she looks, how perfect her flaws are. “I just came to give you that… so if you don't need anything else, I'll go.” I turn around to walk away, grabbing the door knob and turning it around, “Wait! Will you… please stay with me a little longer, I need it.

I need you.”

this is so messy I'm sorrrrryyyy!! I wanted to post something today at least :((

[fanon-elio]

By your side.

Part 1

Summary: You are the CEO of a big company and hired Lycaon as your personal attendant, however it seems that your wolfish butler has developed a crush on you. So while you and him were on a business trip, both of you were forced to confront your growing feelings for eachother.

Tag: Green Letter (Sfw)

Pairing: Von Lycaon x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is completely fictional and is not canon. You are responsible for the content you consume, so if the following warnings trigger you, you may read at your own risk.

Warnings: Fluff, Slow burn'ish, long fic, mutual pining, reader is smaller than lycaon, lycaon is down bad horrendous, friends to lovers type stuff, slight suggestive themes at the end.

Angst, Sexism (Not by Lycaon), slight racism (Not by Lycaon), jealousy, reader is lowkey burned out.

Other warnings: lowkey my first fanfiction, pls go easy on me. (T^T)

Yes, this fanfiction WILL contain Nsfw in the future.

I added some throw-away characters to the story as plot devices, no they're not oc's and they hold no importance to the story other than providing character development.

This fic contains a lot of scenarios written in Lycaons pov cuz i eat this shit up for breakfast.

I did not intent for this fic to become so long, that i had to split it into different parts. But i'm lowkey kinda happy how it turned out. Sorry for any possible mistakes. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. also, don't mind me adding a drawing i made just for vibes. Enjoy!

Lycaon has been your personal attendant for over a year now, attending to your every wish and request dutifully while you were busy handling your business.

At first Lycaon thought this was just going to be a job like any other, only to be proven wrong rather quickly. To say that both of you hit it off right away would be a slight understatement, it was shocking how good you two got along and understood eachother.

You impressed him with your steadfastness and professionalism when it came to your business. Something that seemed to resonate with him, and not only because your company specializes in custom-made prosthetics for humans and thirens alike. Even though this was what originally caught his attention, since his own mechanical legs were quite difficult to overlook.

Said mechanical legs were also the reason what made him so invested to support you where he could. A wish to see you succeed because your work greatly benefited other people - people just like him.

When you one day asked him if he could accompany you for a business trip to meet potential new investors, he accepted immediately without a second thought.

So with your ever so attentive right hand always by your side, you got in your car and were on your way.

---~---

Lycaon wanted to make your trip as enjoyable and comfortable for you as he possibly could, this is what you hired Victoria housekeeping for after all. Making sure your every desire was satisfied, and your every wish fulfilled was his duty to you...

So now imagine his sheer discontent at the current situation as he was forced to watch you awkwardly eat, or at least tried to eat the food you had on your plate without it coming back up.

"Caviar, what a pretentious meal" he had thought, clearly he would have made something better for you instead of whatever your plate was currently punishing you with. But the awful food wasn't the only thing what made this meal so infuriating, but rather the person on the other side of the table. A rich business man who had invited you to dinner a day prior to the planned gala which was the main reason of your trip.

If it were him, he would have declined the invitation. However, you hoped to draw a benefit out of the invitation - wanting to win this new investor for your cause.

Yesterday he had respected, if not even praised you for your decision. But right now he hoped you would throw your plate at said investor's face, good manners be damned. The short man, who barely didn't reach to Lycaon's chest, was ranting on and on about his achievements, trying oh so desperately to impress you on a more private level instead of the professional setting his earlier sent, very formal invitation was supposed to set up. And what was even more painful was not this poor excuse of a meal, or the way that man's voice hurt in Lycaon's ears, it was the way how he treated you.

He has interrupted you at least 5 times now, shooting down any of your advances to steer the conversation into what you were originally here for, and he grew more frustrated by the second.

"Of course I'm aware of the common folk's suffering, I myself invested a pretty penny in the research of joint and hip replacements, even going as far as to pay for a dozen surgeries for people who couldn't afford it, out of my own pocket i might add" He bragged, clearly nothing more than empty words in an attempt to woe you.

"That's wonderful, I'm glad you see the importance of our cause, I'm thankful that you want to support us as an investor-" you once again tried to redirect the conversation... "naturally I couldn't say no to such a stunning young Lady such as yourself" ...but once again failed.

Lycaons ear flicked in annoyance as your host continued to shamelessly flirt with you, while he was forced to listen.

Even though it is shameful and rather scandalous for Lycaon to admit, he has indeed developed feelings for you.

Feelings that go far beyond that of those an attendant should have for their employer but he couldn't help himself but be in awe of you. Of how you're able to be so strong and yet so kind, so strict and yet so graceful, so serious and yet so playful, the later a side only he gets to see when you allow him to indulge in the trust and friendship you have built with him.

And yet, both of you were once again forced to listen to another audition of your host's self-indulgent rambling.

"I was honestly surprised when you showed up earlier" he said suddenly, "how so?" You replied, politely putting down your fork as you reached for your drink hoping to wash the awful taste off your tongue it seems "In all honesty, I would have expected a man to show up instead of a woman" the man across from you spoke, and you grimaced clearly not only because of your drinks taste that was ordered for you by your host, insisting you drink some expensive wine with him, but also because of the sheer rudeness of the others answer. "Is that so?" You put down your glass and Lycaon had to supress a growl that threatened to escape his throat.

"Don't take this the wrong way sweetheart, it's just surprising nowadays to see a woman running a succesful business that doesn't include fashion or make-up" you briefly closed your eyes and took in a silent breath while Lycaon clenched his fist behind his back. "Times have definitely changed, Mr. Goldman" you replied, trying to stay polite despite the sexism thrown your way.

Lycaon on the other hand, tried to come up with any sort of excuse to get you out of this awful situation, clenching his jaw so painfully hard he was surprised his teeth didn't crack under the pressure. Clearly this man didn't see eye to eye with you, treating you like a trophy he's trying to win, completely disregarding and undermining your achievements and reducing you to nothing more than a pretty face.

How disgusting he thought.

"Please allow me to invite you to a party tonight, a pretty little thing like you would fit in just right" he shot a wink your way and Lycaon swore he saw you shudder for a moment. "But you can't bring him" Mr. Goldman said, using his fork to point at Lycaon. "Why does it bother you so?" You asked, now having completely abandoned the polite smile you wore just a few seconds ago. "It's a party of class of course, my apologies miss, but he doesn't fit in with the rest" Lycaon shot him a quick glare "he'd have to stay outside with the other pets" he felt his blood boiling, he's just about had it with this pretentious, condescending and sexist piece of shit.

However, he straightened his posture, remaining polite and professional. He gave you a quick glance as a silent way of asking for permission to make a break for the exit with you, maybe kicking that wimp across the room on his way out.

But his swirling thoughts were interrupted by you gently pushing your chair back and standing up.

"My apologies but I'm afraid I won't be able to attend then..." you spoke firm but still polite "...Lycaon is to remain by my side" you spoke and Lycaons heart skipped a beat. "Surely you can find someone else to accompany you for tonight miss y/n" your host argued, "I'm afraid not Mr. Goldman" you spoke, giving Lycaon a quick glance and the permission he needed.

With a small flash of satisfaction thrumming through his veins, he swiftly moved towards the door, opening it for you, "this way please." He said, bowing politely.

You grabbed your purse and made your way towards the door, making sure to give your was-host another glare on your way out. "Furthermore, Lycaon is not a pet" you said, not even trying to hide your discontent at the other's comment towards your companion.

"We'll see each other tomorrow at the gala, have a pleasant day Mr. Goldman" you replied as the door fell shut behind you and Lycaon.

---~---

The ride back to the vacation home you were currently residing in was quiet. Lycaon noticed that you seemed to be absorbed in your thoughts, possibly reflecting on anything that had happened.

He wanted to say something to ease your nerves, but couldn't find the right words. So instead, he opted to let you have the time you needed to wrap your head around the situation and how to act from here, since Mr. Goldman definitely didn't seem like a reliable support for your company or any other situation for that matter.

You came to a stop at a red light, and he couldn't help but glance at you again, at the way the sun cast a gentle glow on the features of your face and the way it almost seemed to make your hair shine in response to it's gentle rays of light. He once again finds himself greatly impressed by you, with the way you stood firmly to your standards and morals, how you remained patient and professional even though that filth didn't deserve an ounce of your kindness. However, more so than anything, it is the words you spoke at that moment that still vividly swirl in his mind,

"Lycaon is to remain by my side."

He loved the way you said it, perfectly capturing his own desire.

It is quite apparent to him that he no longer views his current situation as a job, he enjoys it way too much for that, and yet a small piece of his consciousness still berated him for acting like a love drunk puppy for so openly and unabashedly admiring you. You seemed to notice his gaze lingering on you and turned your head to look at him - but he had looked away just at that moment so you wouldn't notice how starstruck he appeared, at least he hoped you didn't. And yet, a small smile still found a way onto his lips.

He pulled into the driveway of your current abode, he felt glad to be back so early, despite the given turn of events at your "dinner."

While he got out, walking over to your side of the car to open the door for you, he already thought about what he could do to get your mind off that incident to at least make your day end on a positive Note.

Both of you entered the spacious place you and him called home for the time being. You sighed in relieve as you kicked off your high heels, whining at your terribly sore feet. You were glad this day was finally over, even though you felt all the more anxious about tomorrow's gala.

With your meteoric rise to fame also came a lot of pressure. The demand for your services and products rose daily. So much so that you had to expand your production efforts, almost doubling your expenses in the process. Dispite that, your manufacturing department was still slowly starting to get overwhelmed. However, the need for new employees couldn't be met without the necessary funding.

You made your way towards the kitchen, watching Lycaon as he was already preparing a proper dinner for you both. "Do you need help by any chance" you asked, even though you already knew the answer "I appreciate your offer master, but there is no need" yup, thought so "why don't you sit down in the livingroom and relax master, you had a straining day, and deserve a break." He said, shifting his attention back to cooking, "I shall inform you once dinner is ready"

Lycaon has always been that way, ever since he'd started working for you. But the more time you two spend together, the closer you two became, forming quite the strong friendship with eachother. Even though you hoped it would be more than that.

If you're being fully honest, you had developed a crush on the wolfish gentleman for quite some time now.

Okay, it might be more than just a little crush with the way he makes your heart race when he looks at you, or your head all dizzy with euphoria when he speaks with you while his deep voice still sends pleasant shivers down your spine.

He was easy to talk to and always had an open ear. Even though you did feel guilty by the way he was constantly spoiling you, wanting absolutely nothing more in return than your smile. In return, you started to praise him where you could, swooning over the way his ears tend to flick or the way his tail would wag a little, subtly portraying his feelings to you dispite his efforts to stay professional. You enjoyed when he was happy, so much so that you would always have to fight the urge to ask him if he would allow you to pet him.

"Dinner is served master"

---~---

After dinner, you found yourself sitting at the small bar of your kitchen. A glass martini Lycaon prepared for you in your hand as you engaged in riveting conversation with him, gossiping about your shared experience with Mr. Goldman as he did the dishes.

"And that awful vest of his? Olive green with orange? I don't think" you laughed and Lycaon secretly preened at the sound. "I was terribly tempted to throw my drink at him let me tell you, a shot of red would have been nothing short of a favor" you replied, and he nodded fully agreeing "unfortunately it wouldn't have made his face any more tolerable" he responded "much less his nasty attitude." Lycaon was still very sour of the other man's behaviour towards you. However, he felt his heart soaring when he remembered how you had stood up for him. "Well, to be fair, it sure would have distracted from it at least." You said before chugging the rest of your drink "even if it would have enraged him?" He asked, putting a clean plate to the side as he grabbed the next. You chuckled, "And even so, I can always count on you to protect me, can I not?" His tail began to wag a little at your words, and you were satisfied with yourself at his reaction, "Absolutely, master."

"Still, I applaud you for staying as calm as you did" Lycaon admitted, and you let out a sigh, his ears immediately perking up at the sound. "My apologies if I'm prying master" he turned his head to look at you, your own resting in your hand, "are you nervous about tomorrow's gala?" He asked, slight concern shining through his oh so polished demeanor.

"A little bit, not gonna lie" you admitted, "I just hope there won't be more people like him at the gala tomorrow" you said. A silence coming over you, rage still bubbling in your gut when you remembered how Mr. Goldman had compared Lycaon to a pet. "Eh, and even so, I hope they have better food at least" you said "I mean, caviar? Really? That's way too cliché" he smiled, concerned at you spacing out but still glad to know you shared the same opinion as him.

He was aware of your worries.

Your financial situation being the topic at every meeting, and he worried greatly for your health as he watched you plunge yourself into your work, day after day without a break. He remembered the days when he had to force you to take a break, sleep or even eat something. He desperately wanted to save you from the burnout that slowly creeped up on you.

"I think I'll be hitting the hay" you said through a yawn, getting up from where you'd been sitting. Lycaon looked at you as he pondered how he could ease your worries, even if just for a little.

He dried off his hands and walked around the kitchen counter, "could you spare one more moment for me, master?" He asked, and you turned around, seeing him approaching. "Of course, what's up?" He didn't speak, instead he moved and gently pulled you into an embrace.

It wasn't restraining nor unpleasant, it was comforting and warm as you felt his arms wrap around you. "Don't worry master, I'm sure your hard work will pay off at tomorrow's gala" he spoke, low and gentle. You hugged him back, hearing faint rustling which you suspected to be his wagging tail.

Both of you pulled back, as this tender moment you and Lycaon shared slowly came to an end, even tho neither of you wanted it to. Both of you decided to retire for the night, tomorrow would be a straining day for the both of you after all.

Sleep would come quickly for you thanks to that bit of alcohol in your system, while Lycaon would lay awake for just a little longer, thinking about you as he tried to memorize the way you felt in his arms, letting this one certain sentence replay in his mind once again as he drifted off to sleep.

Lycaon is to remain by my side.

---~---

Everything was still dead silent as your eyes cracked open. You blinked a few times, wondering what time it was as you reached for your phone on the bedside table. Glancing at the display, as the discomfort from the sudden brightness slowly faded.

You sighed heavily as you looked at the daunting digits, solidifying your suspicion.

3:27 am

You tossed and turned, but couldn't find the comforting sleep you yearned for. Your stomache growled and you pondered going for a midnight snack.

With a sigh, you sat up and stretched, cringing at the cracking sound of your joints. Rubbing your eyes, you swung your legs out of bed and made your way towards the kitchen to make yourself a much-needed midnight snack.

You cussed out the sandman for once again having ghosted you as you rounded the corner, a flash of white catching your eye, and you stopped. Even though you knew that Lycaon was definitely an early bird type of person, you still didn't expected to find him standing in the kitchen at the same ungodly hour. The soft light of the opened refrigerator filling the room as you peaked around the corner, taking in his appearance.

It was surprising to see your wolfish butler, who was normally so professional and serious about how he presented himself to others, stumble shirtless and rather sleep dazed through the kitchen. His mechanical feet clacking on the ground and his tail swishing behind him as he moved around.

Never in the entire time he has worked for you have you ever seen him out of uniform, and the more you took in his disheveled appearance and his strong and muscular body, the less you seemed to care to admit that he was painfully handsome.

Ah hell, smocking hot would be a better fit. Naturally you assumed he was working out, but you had no idea your personal attendant was this ripped. You felt a bit embarrassed as you continued gawk at your friend and buttler's biceps and abs. You caught a glimpse of his teeth as he yawned, further noticing how different he looked without his muzzle and eye patch.

You let your gaze wander down to his prosthetics, slowly seeming to sober up, as you wondered what had happened to him that left him in such a state. From missing arms to missing legs, you had encountered your fair share of injuries since starting your business, but never had you asked what had happened before. Neither your clients and especially not Lycaon not wanting to pry into his past. Too afraid of accidentally offending him by reopening past wounds, and yet you couldn't help but wonder how he must feel. loosing one leg must be traumatizing enough, but both?

He closed the refrigerator and the sound of it ripped you out of your trance. You watched him as he scratched the back of his neck seemingly making his way back to bed, and you hoped that sleep still had enough of a grasp on him that he wouldn't notice your presence.

You decided to carefully make your way back to your bedroom as well, as not to embarrass him with a sudden entrance while he was so scarcely dressed. You hoped to actually find sleep again because you couldn't help the feeling that tomorrow would be an awfully difficult day.

---~---

Part 2 ->

Listen,

When i tell you that I absolutely did not mean to make this fanfiction this long.

At first it was supposed to be a oneshot, but as it so happens, i got absolutely carried away. And after +2k words i realized that i might wanna split this fanfiction up, cuz ain't nobody on tumblr wanna read an entire essay. Also, it's the way how anxious i am uploading this help. Let's hope it's gonna be a positive experience, otherwise i might admit myself to psychiatric care asap.

Anyways,

thank your for reading, i hope it was to your liking.

Part 2 will probably drop next Friday cuz i need time to make a new drawing.

Btw. Here is a quick doodle just for shitt's and giggles.

Aight bye~

-Elio

[surielstea]

Omg hiii! Im so happy your requests are open again cuz my mind has been stuck on a particular trio for far too long. I was thinking maybe azriel x Eris x reader where reader is part of the inner circle and close with Az and then a ball happens and she walks in the room with all the Inner Circle ladies looking GORG and goes to stand next to az talking and everything. Eris notices her and asks Lucien about her and her connection to the shadow singer. Later on he feels a pull or idk (do wtv you want here you know better lmao) and asks rhysand for a night with both. I haven't really decided how I'd like this to go as in the "ask rhys for a night " isn't rlly my fav part here but if you could do it as a slow burn where their both territorial towards her but then discover that not only are they mated to her but to each other too and go crazy in bed while figuring how to tell everyone else and if they actually want to accept the bond blah blah blah (I'M SORRY I'LL GO BACK TO MY CAGE RIGHT AFTER THIS.) I know it's kind of messy but I would be so thankful if you actually made this work ❤❤! Even if you don't or can't I completely understand and I'll just keep feeding off the other AMAZING fics you give us every day 💗💗. Btw I love your writing so so much and can't wait for more of your posts!!!

GUYSSSS!!!

First of all, I love your energy. I'm sorry I took so long to respond to this masterpiece of a request please come out of your cage anon 😚😚

Second of all, OH MY GOD, I'M IN LOVEEEEE. Azris x reader is my Roman empire. I live for it. Their tension is chef's kiss so I'm so happy this was requested. I'm planning on this being pretty long, so I'm unsure when it'll be out exactly, but in the meantime, while you wait, here's a snippet that I just sped wrote in excitement for this:

You stare at them both. At the realization that’s unfolded before you like a grand, inevitable tragedy—or a masterpiece still in the making. You inhale. Deciding one thing for certain. "I need a drink." Eris turns toward you, golden eyes gleaming with amusement. “Do you?” He steps forward, closing the space between you with a slow prowl. “Or do you just need something to soothe the tension?” He steps further into the room, languid and self-assured, his scent of ember and crisp autumn air curling into the space between you. His eyes flick to Azriel, whose shadows shift, restless, as if mirroring the tension in his jaw. Azriel is silent. But he feels it; you know he does. Eris notices it, too. "Not even a snide remark, Shadowsinger?" His voice is velvet-wrapped amusement. "Unusual for you. Unless, of course, you’re too busy realizing that what you’ve been avoiding has been right in front of you all along." Azriel exhales sharply through his nose. "You talk too much." "I make up for all the times you say too little," Eris smirks, tilting his head. "It’s frustrating, isn’t it? How much we understand each other without ever saying a word?" Azriel tenses, but you see it again—that flicker. That split second where he doesn’t deny it. And gods, the realization is exhilarating.

Let me know if you'd like to be included in the tagsss :)

[mncxbe]

bsd men and what they do for christmas

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: sfw/nsfw/ severe brainrot♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

can I just start by saying that this man has never celebrated Christmas properly so he's so excited to spend time with you

Dazai prefers to keep things simple: homemade dinner and then watching a movie

you're supposed to open the presents in the morning but he isn't patient enough. the moment he sees them under the tree you so kindly decorated a few days ago he has the biggest smile on his face

"come on bella you don't seriously want to wait until morning. how could you do this to me? you know how curious I am"

you end up opening the gifts that night. he's gonna loves whatever you get him really but his heart literally melts if you knit him a scarf or write him a letter. dazai's a sucker for self-made gifts

the only appropriate way to show his gratitude is to bend you over and fuck you nice and slow, your face mushed in the cushy pillows on your shared bed as he takes you from behind

"there you go pretty girl. my, my I'm starting to think this pretty pussy of yours is my favourite gift so far"

you can bet he wears a santa hat

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒖𝒚𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

he'd take you out to the most expensive restaurant in town for a proper meal

after that, if you find a rink that's open on Christmas eve he takes you ice skating (totally not an excuse for him to hold your hand)

once you get home you cuddle on the couch while watching a generic movie like Home Alone. it's always the classics I'm telling you

he has a fireplace!!! and insists on opening the gifts next to it

among other stuff, he gets you Christmas themed lingerie and makes you wear it in bed. cuz after all, you're the best gift he could ask for

forget about baking him sweets, the only dessert he wants is your pretty cunt. he's gonna eat you out for what seems like hours, making you cum on his tongue at least two or three times before he even thinks about fucking you

"shiit baby you look so pretty like this. you like it when I spoil you rotten don't ya? I bet you do- oh fuck yea cum f'me doll"

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

hubby's busy even on holidays

he probably has to attend some obnoxious event and ofc you go as his plus one

he's gonna spend all evening sulking and complaining about how idiotic the whole party is

by the time you two get home he's too exhaused to do anything but you may be able to bribe him to stay awake for an hour or two with some gingerbread

can I just say he'd probably get you the nicest gifts? i'm 100% sure he has a good salary so he can afford whatever you want. expensive jewelery or skincare? sure, no problem. a stack of books with those pretty decorative covers? fine again

he probably gets a bit tipsy on mulled wine so be prepared to hear a silly yet lengthy love confession before bed

falls asleep before midnight but he's gonna make up for it in the morning if you catch my drift

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

sweet baby's so anxious at first

he's never celebrated christmas before so he doesn't really know what to do. this whole idea is so new to him but he can't deny he loves spending time with you decorating the house

Sigma wants to try any tradition you may have; baking winter themed cookies, making crackers, watching a movie marathon

when it comes to gifts he doesn't really know what to get you so he ends up buying multiple things he thinks you'd like and he's so happy when you tell him you like them

cuddles cuddles cuddles all evening under a cushy blanket with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands

he'd look so cute wearing one of those reindeer headbands

if it's snowing, take him slow dancing in the snow or on a walk around town. he's gonna love the pretty christmas lights

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

omg just read ur long sleeves fix it was sSOOOO GOOD! if u write part 2 i will be tuned in & reading ☝️☝️

i miss you, i'm sorry- r.c. x reader

part 2 of long sleeves!!!

OMGG IM SOO GLAD YOU LIKED IT <3

warnings: swearing angst (?) mention of drugs, rehab, and reader is so fucking codependent, like girl?? anyway, this is horrible y’all i cannot for the life of me write a happy ending so i tried my best 😞 can you tell i’m depressed LMAOOO? YALL SHES DEPRESSED TOO 😔 but seriously if i could make it happier hmu, i won’t get mad i promise. i’m new at this whole writing thing 🤠 not proofread cuz i wanted to post this already so tell me if there are big mistakes and my first language isn’t english so sorry if there are errors

disclaimer: the reader's depression is based on my own experiences, everybody is different and what i might go through isn't the same as what another person goes through. with that said, if you find any of these topics triggering, i understand! so, please always take care of yourself <3

ps: sorry this took so long, i've just been busy with school and my dad has been sick for a few days now so i haven't had time.

I'M ALSO HALFWAY DONE THROUGH THE FLASHBACKS FOR NO BODY, NO CRIME. i just haven't had the time fml. hopefully tomorrow 🤞. ok enough whining and into the story 🥁

want it, so i got it, did it, so it's done

making the bed started playing and the first line felt like a punch to the gut. i hated when life kicked you when you were already down.

i quickly changed to a cheery workout playlist that felt more mocking, in a sense, but decided it was better to not relate to the lyrics than listening to my despair sing back to me.

after that day in tannyhill, i'd decided to start running at night. in a silly way i thought that maybe running would burn away my pain in a healthy way. though how healthy running on barely any sleep, with nothing but depressive thoughts in my brain, was beyond me.

still, at least this way i felt like i was doing something. that i was taking action instead of moping. that doesn't make any sense. ugh, shut the fuck up. i really didn't know whose side i was on half the time.

the night sky was clear, making the stars wink at me as if they knew something i didn't. the sea breeze caressed my face, combing its fingers through my hair and drying away my tears.

running equated crying but by the time i got home i would be so exhausted that i couldn't even think. which was, of course, the ultimate goal. not think of him.

six months had passed and it didn't hurt any less. on the contrary, all i could think was how i'd abandoned him. probably when he needed me the most. two weeks after our breakup, sarah called me to tell me that rafe was terribly sick and they were taking him to the hospital. i'd debated whether i should tell her what had happened but she then said that she was aware of the situation and that i shouldn't go see him. she was only letting me know and, in a way, it felt like she was blaming me.

that was the last time i had contact with the camerons, town gossip and my mother becoming the only ties left between us. he'd gone to rehab and was apparently taking better care of himself, his family supporting him every step of the way.

fucking hypocrites. ward never cared when i told him about his son's addiction, instead saying that i should keep quiet, that everything would be okay. rose only cared about new shopping places to spend the family's money. sarah had started spending time with her new boyfriend and barely came home and wheezie was far too young.

so that left me. it had always been me, but when word got out of how bad rafe he was, they then played the card of ignorance and became the holy family.

i took a deep breath and slowed down to a jog, unaware of where the fuck i was. i looked at my surroundings for the first time and of course, i was in front of tannyhill. the gates were close but i could hear muffled voices on the other side. stepping closer to listen like the eavesdropper i was.

i looked through the bars of the gate, only to see him or well his back. he was with ward, who was lowering another suitcase to the ground. i frowned but i then heard his voice saying my name.

Ward turned his head sharply in his direction, "you are not seeing her again, alright? she's the one that got you into this mess in the first place." oh so the asshole blamed me.

he turned to face his dad and i gasped. his hair was buzzed and he looked older, healthier. he looked good but i couldn't help but feel like this was a different person entirely. i felt a slight pang in my chest because i'd been the one who had insisted on him leaving his hair longer and now he'd erased that too.

his voice interrumpted my thoughts, "dad, that is not true and you know it." why was he defending me? in a way what ward said was true. i'd left him alone that night.

his father stepped closer to him and put his hands on his son’s shoulders, “son, trust me when I tell you that it is best for you to stay away from her. don’t set yourself up for disappointment. We know where that led you.” Ward then kissed his forehead like one did to a child in a condescending manner.

Ward then picked up the suitcases left and turned to enter the house, leaving him standing there with a strange expression on his face. He lifted his gaze and somehow found mine, like they always did. I’d forgotten how we always sensed the other, no matter how much time had passed. My heartbeat sped up, causing me to quickly turn around and ran away from him as fast as I could.

“He is such a good father to those kids, especially Rafe.” Vanessa, my mother’s friend said, swooning over ward. Like god, he’s married, get a life.

Either way it seemed like every corner of this island is haunted. Ever since he’d come back as a stellar young man, all the women at the country club started obsessing over him, but more so his father. They practically held him as a saint and it only made my blood boil.

I felt my mothers gaze on me when his name was mentioned, noting the way I flinched and seemed particularly interested in the half eaten strawberries on my plate. They continued to chatter, causing me to tune them out and look at my surroundings for a distraction. Big mistake.

The doors had opened as if on cue, and there he was with a new found confidence that was unfamiliar to me. Before I could look away his eyes found mine, quieting everything around me, dèjá vu flooding my body. We looked at each other for what seemed an eternity until ward came up behind him, clapping his hand on his shoulder to turn him away from me. The colder version of his son’s eyes bore into mine in a warning. Stay away from him.

I looked back down at my plate no longer interested in my food. My eyes welled up and I knew that if i stayed a minute longer on this table I would start sobbing or worse.

“Mom? I’m not feeling well so I’m going home,” my voice quiet in her ear and she realized what I meant.

She nodded, “take the car, ok?”

“It’s ok, I can walk home.” I needed to clear my head and driving wasn’t the best idea.

“Are you sure?” The concern in her eyes made my heart wrench.

“I’m sure, mom. Thanks.” I stood up and voicing my goodbyes, leaving the club as fast as I could.

The sun was out and the sky was clear of clouds, a stark contrast of how I felt inside. I walked down the path, golf carts filled with kooks passing me by. All of them chattering about the next party or newest deal they had closed.

I kept walking and walking until I reached the boardwalk, which was thankfully empty. I sat down on the edge, swinging my feet over the water with the girl staring back at me and somehow looked as if she was drowning.

The wind carried the sound of footsteps behind me, my body tensing as his perfume arriving along with his shadow looming over me. The drowning girl hid away, leaving me alone. I almost begged her to take me with her.

“Why do you always run away?” my heart sank and then restarted when I heard his voice. For the first time in months, I heard the world clearly again. I hadn’t realized the power it had over me. Didn’t you?

Who was I kidding? He would always be my favorite person, everything about me was shaped by him. My favorite color was blue, my favorite smell was his cologne, my favorite taste were his lips, my favorite sound in the world was his voice, his body my favorite thing to touch. But most of all, his soul.

I took a deep breath before lifting my gaze to his. The knot on my throat made it hard to speak, “Who said I was running away?”

He scoffed before sitting down next to me. “I know you. Or at least I thought I did.” His tone sounded reproachful, his eyes searching my face. this time i really looked at him, gone were his red, glassy eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks but most importantly, the anger that had felt permanently etched into his features every time he looked at me.

the buzz cut now made his features more prominent, his body was stronger and not as skinny as when he’d been living off cocaine and god knew what else.

he looked more like the rafe i’d met forever ago, but there was still something that wasn’t quite there. his innocence. which wasn’t the one of a child, but more so the type of innocence that comes with ignorance. the type where you think you can get away with anything and that bad things only happen to somebody else, but never to you. no matter how bad you behave, you genuinely believed there would be no consequences.

and the boy in front of me knew how untrue that belief was.

“rafe, i—” the knot on my throat became worse, preventing me from talking further. great, now here come the waterworks!

i turned my face away so he couldn’t see my tears but it was too late.

he took hold of my face, “look at me.”

i tried to jerk away but it was no use. i had no other choice but to cry silently while he judged me.

“im going to talk and you’re going to listen, understood?” his voice now held a tone of authority i’d never heard before.

that’s kinda hot. dude, now is not the time.

i nodded because what the fuck was i supposed to do?

he turned so both of his hands held my face now. then he did something i wasn’t expecting, he leaned in and kissed my forehead for what felt like an eternity.

when he pulled away his gaze held mine, with a force stronger than any physical restraint i could possibly be held in.

the tears were flowing freely so i probably looked like a drowned cat at the moment.

“im not mad at you, ok? i hope you know that i never asked for you to not visit me. i know it was my dad that didn’t want you near me, but i swear that the only person i ever wanted by my side was you.

“i won’t deny that i was furious when you left me that night. i only got worse because i didn’t have anyone to stop me, or at least try to. i felt like you were the last person that still believed in me, who would always be beside me. and i took you for granted.” his words felt like a knife through my heart. i abandoned him.

“rafe, im sorry. i shouldn’t have left you like that. not when you needed me the most.” my words barely made sense but he somehow understood. he always did.

“no. you did the right thing. i hurt you, i told you that i hated you. when all you’d ever done for me was love me. i’m sorry, ok? if you hadn’t left then maybe i wouldn’t have gotten help.” he lowered his hands to his lap, my face burning where they had been resting.

“i know you tried to help me. that you talked to my dad about how i was and i know that he dismissed you. he only took me to the hospital because i overdosed and he didn’t want the island to know how ward cameron’s perfect son was a drug addict.” he laughed in a humorless manner, “hell, he even paid everyone at the hospital to keep quiet. that didn’t help much, frankly. gossip always finds its way.”

i wanted to say something but i could tell he wasn’t done so i waited until he felt ready.

this time his voice was hoarse, making me realize he wanted to cry too. i couldn’t take it anymore because nothing could hurt me more than seeing him in pain.

“rafe?” i murmured. he looked up with a broken expression causing me to wrap my arms around him. i felt him tense for a second before he hugged me back tightly.

my shirt got wet with our tears and we clung onto each other like a lifeline, with rafe repeating my name like a mantra. after a while, we pulled away and he held my face between his hands like before, only this time much gentler.

“i miss you, im sorry.”

“i miss you too, rafe.” i fell back into him, resting my head on his shoulder. we sat silently for a while before he spoke.

“can we at least be friends?” the question caught me by surprise.

“you’ve always been my best friend, rafe. but again i’m sorry for not being there, i should’ve done more.”

“no, you couldn’t have. it was the way things were supposed to be.”

he played with my hair like he used to, “you’ve always been my best friend too, kid.”

i punched him playfully at the name, making him chuckle. i pulled back to see his face and i wiped away the few tears that were left with my hand. he fell silent, leaning into my touch, “i love you, you know? not being close to you drove me insane. and it makes me so happy to see that you are healthy, at least physically.

“i want to help you in any way that i can and i want to be there from now on, if—“ his lips crushing onto mine cut me off before i could finish. his hands were in my hair, holding me in place as if afraid i’d run away again.

only i knew i wouldn’t. not this time. he groaned when i bit his lower lip, softly. he ran his tongue along mine before i let him in. i sighed into the kiss and pulled him impossibly closer. our lips explained more than any words that came out of them ever could. i separated from him to breathe and he only kept kissing my cheeks, jaw, neck until he reached my collarbone where he rested his head with quick, short breaths.

“i love you too,” he said. i touched his hair and ran my fingers over the short strands.

“i like your hair, by the way,” i murmured.

he laughed, pulling back. “really? i got it because i thought you would hate it.”

i rolled my eyes, “are you serious? either way, you look good with any haircut.”

“i wasn’t exactly planning on this to go like this. in my head, i was going to confront you and tell you all the ways i’d been miserable but that went away when i saw you that night by my house.”

“oh.”

he chuckled, “yeah. oh. anyway, i was telling my dad how i was going to ask why you never visited me and that’s why he said what you heard.

“i then realized it had been him and as if life liked playing tricks on me, there you were at the gate with a sad expression. yet before i could say anything you left running. i wanted to go after you but my dad called me inside and i didn’t want a fight that night. so i waited until i saw you today and when i was going to ask you to talk to me, again my dad came along. but then i saw you leave and i figured it was now or never, so i excused myself and he was so busy talking to the others at the table that he didn’t notice.”

i scoffed, “well, i’m guessing he noticed by now.”

he laughed, “yeah.”

we fell silent but i still had one more thing to ask, “how did you know i was here?” though i think i already knew the answer, after all i hadn’t exactly been surprised when he came. more like a sense of having your intuition confirmed.

“remember the night we met? i was alone and drunk, saying i was going for a night swim when i saw you sitting here alone. which should’ve alerted me that you were a weirdo but between your beauty and the alcohol, those thoughts went to shit.”

i blushed slightly, “i’m not a weirdo, jackass. i’d had a rough night.”

“i know, kid. i’m just messing with you and besides, i might’ve drowned that night if you hadn’t been here,” he smiled fondly but a bit sad as well.

“so, that makes me your knight in shining armor?” i grinned.

he scowled in mock annoyance, “how dare you mock a damsel in distress?”

i chuckled and felt a heavy weight lift off my chest. i felt lighter than i had in a while, and all because of him.

“my apologies, dear.”

he took my hand with a smile and brought it to his lips for a kiss, before placing it against his cheek.

“but to answer your question, we always find each other,” his words sinking in. that was true. we always did as if there was some invisible string tying him to me.

“you’re right. although you’re still not beating the stalker allegations,” i teased.

“ugh shut up, it was one time!” he groaned.

i burst out laughing, “you followed me for a whole day! that’s some stalker behavior type shit.”

“c’mon, kid. i wanted to give you your bracelet back and i didn’t know where you lived,” his eyes widening in a too innocent way which caused me to narrow mine.

“a bracelet that wasn’t even mine. plus you could’ve just given it to me when you first saw me,” i crossed my arms in front of my chest with a raised brow.

“oh c’mon, but where’s the fun in that?”

i pushed his shoulder, playfully only for him to laugh and hug me.

“i really just wanted to know if you were with someone else, so i wouldn’t make a fool of myself.” he whispered in my ear.

“you could’ve just asked,” i rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.

“i wanted to be cool about it, ok? i had a reputation to maintain,” he joked but i knew he was a little serious. he’d been the epitome of a rich, arrogant, country club boy.

“i thought you were such an asshole.” who the fuck wears shades inside of a convenience store? you guessed it: rafe cameron.

he gasped in mock surprise, “you’re just saying that because you had the hots for me.”

“pfft, sure buddy. i think you’re projecting a little,” i laughed.

“i never said i didnt,” this time his tone was a little too serious making my heart beat faster.

“can we try this again?” he asked shyly.

i pondered for a moment before answering, “yes, but i want you to let me help you this time, ok?”

he moved his head to look me in the eye, “i promise.”

“ok, but wait. what about your father?” i’d somehow forgotten how he hated me now. or maybe always had.

“what about him? i’m an adult, i can make my own decisions. besides it’s none of his business. he’s the one that got us here in the first place.” his tone was now angry, which was rare when he spoke of his father. it was usually filled with frustration and sadness when it came to him. and i knew how important his father’s approval was to him.

“rafe, i don’t know. he’s still your father and i don’t want to come between you two,” i lowered my eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill.

he was silent for a moment before lifting my chin with his finger, frowning when he noticed my expression.

“you’re the love of my life. i’m not losing you again, ok? he’ll have to understand and i will talk to him. i’ll tell him how things really went down. plus, he isn’t innocent in any of this either.”

pursing my lips, i nodded. “ok” i didn’t really believe ward would be capable of changing his mind, but if it made rafe happy then i would try and compromise.

rafe searched for my eyes with a soft smile, “i love you.”

i returned the smile, “i love you too.”

he then got up to his feet, reaching his hand down to help me stand. after a few more kisses and a hug, he took me to his truck. we drove around with no particular destination in mind but with the sole purpose of being by ourselves without prying eyes and judging remarks.

i hoped deep down that i wasn’t making a mistake and that everything would be ok.

and as if on cue, “everything is going to be ok.” i turned my head in surprise at his words.

“don’t act so shocked, kid. i know you better than i know myself.” he then lifted my hand again and kissed it like he’d done on the boardwalk.

i chuckled and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. with the windows down, the ocean breeze, his hand drawing circles on the back of mine, and the soft music playing, i felt myself float away.

“sleep, angel. i love you.”

and then i woke up.

JK JK IT’S NOT A DREAM.

or is it? HEHEHEHEHE

ALSO WHY IS SHE SO CODEPENDENT??? LIKE GIRL STAND UP (says the one who wrote her 👯‍♀️)

anywayyyy, if you made it this far THANK YOU. I LOVE YOU!!!

please feel free to write comments or whatever, i love talking to you all 💞

and if you liked this check out my other stories!!

im currently writing a murder mystery kind of story and i only have two chapters for now, but i will make flashbacks with like text messages and diary entries and stuff. i’m trying to make it as if the reader is part of the investigation (I HOPE IM DOING A GOOD JOB) and i already have how i want the story to end but writing it is the hard part. like how long do i make it?? i don’t want to rush it but i really want to finish it because the characters take a mind of their own when i write. does that make sense? prob not lol

div creds!!- by @anitalenia

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Hi! I went feral with the latest ask of the boys not being able to make the reader cum, so let's inflate their egos a little:

How about reader with a bad experience in sexual encounters? Like faking orgasms with their previous partners cuz they weren't able to make her cum, the sex for the reader doesn't bring her pleasure cuz it never felt good for her part or it was just man-focused ykwim. Reader just thinks is because low libido or that something's wrong with her, but when the boys (separately) find out and get their hands to work it's like boom, k.o. HAHAHAHA dean would put like a certificate on a wall for being the first man on earth to please reader properly I'm sure about it

In other news, just read the prologue of your latest work! Definetely gonna keep up, so good istg, take care bae, glad you're here doing amazing things🤸🏼‍♀️💕

You lovelies just keep outdoing yourselves! ❤️I love this one as well as your last one! Chef's kiss!

I feel like Dean wouldn't say anything in the moment. He'd let her fake it, just to make sure he knows what the situation is, and then after, when they're both lying next to each other, catching their breath, he'd turn to her with one of those charming grins, and go: "So, we gonna try that again for real?"

There'd be some stuttering on her part, but Dean's been around the block often enough to know the real ones from the fake ones. He'd let it rest for the moment, but the next time the two of them get busy and she's urging him to fuck her, Dean's taking a detour down Thigh Highway right to the Valley of Sin - his words. And to town he goes, going for every trick in the book. Because something's bound to work, right?

And of course it does. Because Dean's a trier. And he always gets the job done. (Hence the certificate on the wall you mentioned 😄).

Now Sam's a different matter. He stops when he can tell she's not having a great time. He stops, checks in and she might try to convince him that everything's a-ok (and genuinely believe it because of her past experiences), but Sam's not having it. He stops and wants to talk, cause that's the kind of guy he is. Depending on how willing you are to talk about what's really going on, Sam will either postpone sexy times to some other day and cuddle up (see, there's some similarities to the last one, I just want Sam cuddles), or slowly start things up again - and I mean slow. This feels good? Alright, how about this?

By the end of it, you're probably so close to bursting that all it takes is for Sam to blow on you - figuratively. Kind of. And to be very clear, he hasn't even entered you at that point. But don't worry. You're getting to that. Post haste. Cause you know what's better than one?

Two. 😉

Aaah, this was so fun! How did I do? 😄

[snickerdoodie]

“Need you now”

Summary: The Tornado Wranglers weren’t known for staying in one place for longer than a few days; too many storms to chase, fans to see, family’s to help. It required constant movement and you knew that, but it was never easy for you or Tyler.

Pairing: Tyler Owen’s x f!reader

A/N: Funny story about this fic, I actually based it on my grandma and late grandpa. It makes me so teary eyed every time she tells me the story but I love it sm😭. I’m not even gonna lie, I didn’t really know if I wanted to post this cuz it just…felt like it didn’t turn out right. Feel free to listen to the song while reading, it’s “Need You Now” by Lady A. Not proofread, per usual. But I hope you guys like it!

��Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor

Reaching for the phone, 'cause I can't fight it any more

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind

For me, it happens all the time”

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Tyler Owen’s; a famous YouTuber, Tornado Wrangler, and an overall state superstar and hero, but nothing prepared you for all this. The waiting, the longing, the empty bed side, the constant anxiety that maybe today was the day he wouldn’t come home from a chase, it was all awful.

And here you were again, laying in bed alone, tucked in the shriveled up covers and blankets staring blankly at the brain dead tv show with nothing but numbness. It’s been 2 weeks since you’ve last seen and heard from Tyler, with every passing day you miss the toothy grin, his warm, strong embrace. You miss it all. It’s like they say; you never know how much something means to you until it’s gone, and right now, you couldn’t miss him more.

Too busy caught up in your thoughts, you barely process the blaring sound of your cell phone going off. Someone was calling you. In a slumped up ball of blankets, you lazily pick up the phone and glance at the caller ID, not expecting the man you missed most to be the face you see. A wave of emotion hits you at the photo. It was a selfie of the two of you cuddled up in the gleaming sunlight by the bed of a lake. Clothes damp and hair wet, you both decided to bask in the blaring sunbeams as a way to dry off and stay warm.

As hastily is possible, you hit the green accept button. With shaking hands and a wobbly smile, you bring it up to your ear, not even registering the sweet muffled melody coming through the other end.

“Oh my god, Tyler,” you blurt, voice nearly scratchy, “God, I’ve missed you so much…I-“ It’s only when you stop to take a breath that you hear it.

“It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now

Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control and I need you now

And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now,”

As you feel your throat close up and eyes brim with tears, you stay silent. In your blindness to hear Tyler’s voice again, you completely missed the pianos intro, deaf to the lyrics all together. But once you hear the chorus, you melt away. The once welled up tears cascade down your cheeks like a broken dam; no matter how many you wipe away they keep falling. The swelling of your chest becomes nearly painful, trying to hold back the choked sobs that threaten to escape, but it’s a lost cause.

In one last hope, you put the phone on speaker and bring your legs up to your chest, burying your head between your knees as one of your hands holds the cell up. Just as you do, a blubbering whimper travels from your throat as a sob follows it soon after. As the song continues to flow around the room, the quiet but definite wails carry on, an unstoppable sound that breaks Tyler’s heart through the staticky reception of the call.

Minutes pass by as your weeping slows to small sniffles, eyes closed as you focus on the last remaining lyrical bits of the song.

“Guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothin' at all,”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, the emotions still raw and twirling in your mind, a powerful force that only one person can tame.

“Hey baby...”

You nearly burst into another onslaught of tears at the sound of his voice. It’s quiet and nearly as syrupy as your own, and unbeknownst to you, Tyler had too, lost himself at the sound of you. How could he not? With every twister he went through, he always thought one thing; What if doesn’t come home? What if this is the one that finally takes the Tornado Wrangler down, leaving you with nothing to mourn over. The thought alone gave him goosebumps.

“Tyler..” you whimper, chest swelling at the relief of hearing him once again.

“I don’t even know how to start tellin’ you how nice it is to hear your voice again…god I’ve missed you, sweetheart,” With a smile, you repeat back.

“I’ve missed you too, Tyler…I miss you being here with me..” If you close your eyes tight enough, you can really picture him here with you. His breath winding down your neck as his stubble pricks the side of your face. The smell of his cologne mixing in with the scent of your perfume. Listening closely, you hear shuffling then a deep breath, before he finally speaks,

“I’m coming home soon, baby, I promise you I am.”

“I just need you now,

Oh, baby, I need you now.”

Three posts in one day?!? A new record for me. Lmfao I actually wrote this one today and had a crisis if I wanted to post it or not. I know this song is about heartbreak and wanting someone back after they’ve left…but I wanted to try and make it about longing, like the story my grandma always tells me. I hope you guys like this fic! I honestly might rewrite it on a later date, but I was kinda texting the waters with it. As always, comment if you liked or disliked something, inbox is still open!

[melodic-haze]

heyy, may i request some natasha content? she's so underrated i swear 😩😩

☆ — SONG TITLE: Acts of service

☆ — PAIRINGS: Natasha x Reader

☆ — TYPE: Fluff, SFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: None

☆ — NOTES: No NSFW for this one cuz I've been doing a lotta that 🫶 hope you don't mind!!! Also idk what colour to give her :(

☆ — WORD COUNT: 1,609 words

Visiting Natasha became something of a routine for you. Despite everything that you did in the day, you never failed to visit the doctor—it was usually during the afternoon, around the time you had lunch, because then you asked her to have a bite with her every time, to which she always agreed to.

Half of the reason why was because you had wanted to spend time with Wildfire's true leader as.. well, not Wildfire's leader. You wanted to get to know Natasha, nobody else, at first.. but then it went from getting to know her to having each other's presence become something of a constant in both your lives, and then to something even more.

The other half of the reason, though, was because you were concerned.

She was the Underworld's best doctor, so naturally everyone relied on her. While she did have a massively good reputation, unfortunately that came at the cost of a decrease in the time for her to relax.

Such a thing was evident to see when it was moments like these—you had just stepped into her clinic and already you are witnessing the blue-gray-haired woman rush back and forth, patient to patient. After all, you had waited for.. what was essentially an hour before you decided to just stop waiting and to go to her yourself to see what was happening.

You had to take your time in actually approaching her, worried that you might somehow disturb her flow, and only actually decide to try to gain her attention when she seems to have slowed down.

Gently placing a hand on her shoulder, you softly called out to her, "Natasha?"

You hear her sigh the slightest bit, tired and weary, but when she turns her head and sees you she pushes herself upright on her desk as if startled. She quickly downplays her surprise with a laugh, however, "Oh! Dear, you gave me a quite a shock. What are you here for? Are you sick?"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I'm not on death's door or anything like that. Seems like you've got your hands full of the people that are, though."

She let out a small yet exhausted laugh, the lines on her eyes particularly evident today, "I suppose I am, aren't I? ..Though not to be hasty, and I do love to see you and your face, but if you aren't here to get treated, then is there another reason why you're here?"

The clinic was so particularly hectic today that she forgot.

"..Nat."

"Yes?"

"We were supposed to meet up a bit more than an hour ago."

You see her take her phone out of her pocket to check the time and--

"Oh."

Her eyes widen at the realisation before darting back to you with furrowed brows, "I hadn't realised... Were you waiting this whole time?"

You shrugged with a sheepish grin, "I didn't really want to leave in case you were just late. I see that you're really busy, though."

You see her sigh out and look at you apologetically, "Dear, you should've called me. I didn't mean to lose track--"

"Hey, no, I'm not mad or anything, don't worry about it." You reach for her hands to hold them tenderly as you got a little closer to her, "I can see that you're absolutely swamped with work, I get it. I wouldn't have signed myself up for dating you if I didn't accept it."

"Be that as it may, this is practically routine for the both of us."

"Yeah, but this is still your job." You gave her a light shrug and a reassuring smile, "Don't worry about it, yeah? We can just postphone it for when you go off the clock."

She huffs out gently with a small shake of her head, "A doctor never fully gets off the clock."

"Even when the Stellaron's gone?"

"Mhm. Not only that, but some of the others have caught an illness so we're short-staffed and I've been scrambling left and right. I'm afraid I had no time to think about anything else... Or, well," she draws a hand back from your grasp to cup your cheek with such a soft, affectionate look, "until you came along. Now I feel like I can't seem to think of--"

"Natasha?" The both of you turn to look at the nurse calling out to your lover, her touch on you breaking away at the disturbance, "Sorry to disturb you but, um, we need you here."

Natasha fully lets go of you now, easily getting herself back into work mode, "He's woken up?" And when the nurse nods, she answers swiftly, "Alright. I'll be there in a second."

Then she turns back to you, work mode off for a brief moment. While her affectionate look is still there, you could easily see how much today's exhaustion's getting to her, "I'm sorry that I'll have to leave you like this. I don't think I really have time to spare so.. I'll meet you when I'm done?"

"Mm." You briefly go to squeeze her hand and press a quick peck on her cheek, "Good luck with work, yeah? I'll be waiting."

She nods, and then she turns to make a beeline over to the waiting patient, leaving you alone in the middle of the clinic. You supposed that you should probably go so you make your way over to the door...

But when you put a hand on the doorknob, suddenly you're hit with a revelation.

You rush back over to her (the desk she owns, specifically) and wait for until she's finished with her current charge. It takes a while, but eventually she turns to walk over to said desk, to which she sees you and makes a confused yet amused expression, "I don't believe I'm off the clock yet, darling. Anything you need?"

"No, actually." You shook your head at her, "On the contrary, I think I have a little solution to your problem."

She crossed her arms as she hummed in curiosity, "Hmm? And whatever may that be?"

"I can help. Like, as some sort of assistant."

"..Go on."

"I know I'm not necessarily trained to be a doctor like you, or a nurse, or anyone in the professional health field, but I can do the other stuff like book-keeping and supply pick-ups. And maybe fetching stuff for you," you shrugged, "but I can't promise that I'll know what they look like."

You had expected her to accept the help—you have to use whatever resource you have in the Underworld, even when the passage between here and the overworld has been opened up. However, instead you see her shaking her head with slightly furrowed brows, "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

"Why not?"

"I can't ask that of you. I wouldn't want you to sacrifice your day to help me with my job..." She looks to the side, pensive, "And I'm afraid I can't pay you either; I don't want to monopolise you just because we share a close bond.

You waved off her concerns, "Don't worry about that. One, I already get paid by spending time with you. And two, you're not monopolising anything—I'm offering to help. So let me?"

She looks at you, looks back towards the patients behind her, and then looks back at you again, her face showing clear contemplation. She's silent for a while and the lack of an answer plays with your nerves, but she eventually gives you a small, teasing smile, "It will probably take up the entire rest of your day. Are you sure you can hold out for that long here?"

"Ah, but you underestimate me—I can do anything when you're with me."

She laughs, and it's the most beautiful sight you've ever witnessed, "We'll have to see, won't we?"

You both get straight into work after that; Natasha tends to the patients with the other nurses as you dutifully do exactly as you said, taking care of most of the documentations and fetching the needed supplies for her and everyone else (without touching the chemicals in case you mess something up, of course). The amount of work was, quite frankly, insane for such a small clinic but you supposed that all places had their busiest days, medical locations included.

It was tough, and it sure as hell was exhausting, but eventually you pulled through the day and finally you were off the clock. You left a little earlier per your girlfriend's request, waiting outside for her to come out instead. And once she walks out the door, you two walk back home in companiable silence.

It's only when you reach your house when she speaks up, guilt tinging her tone, "I'm sorry we didn't end up having lunch as per usual, dear."

"I told you so many times, Nat, I seriously don't mind. I wanted to help!"

"Not that I'm ungrateful, and I know you offered, but are you sure you were okay to help? Treating people and helping them recover is something I love to do, but you could have done something else."

"I could have," you paused in your steps, opting Natasha go do the same. "But I wanna spend more time with you. Plus, hospital intern dates aren't exactly the worst dates ever."

She laughs again, and you can't get enough of it, "I suppose it isn't. Now come," she nudges her head towards your house's direction, "I'll make up for the whole of today, starting with a delightful meal. Care to join me, Y/N?"

Yes. Yes, you'd very much like to.

[jaytalking]

Okay okay.

NAOOOO—

*inhaaalE*

So your Plasmius design.

*claps hands together multiple times*

Where do I even BEGIN to appreciate it OML I would fail at doing so-

Okay so.

Numero uno *cough*

The whole thing about him looking younger to embrace the vampire part. Yes. Yes I love that. That is now canon in my heart because it just WORKS. SO MUCH.

Because I feel like it could also tie into the fact that Vlad in the show is so obsessed with having lost everything and wanting all of it back, his youth included-

So he'd look younger as Plasmius EEEEEEEE

Also I LOVE how his eye shape changes as Plasmius and he looks more. Hostile and dangerous if you will—*explodes* eyes are the windows to one's soul I love eyes sm-

THE FANGS. THE FANGSSSSS—*taps the microphone* HE'S A VAMPIREEEE—

The way you turned the top of his cape into flames??? That is literally so so SO cool and amazing

Makes me wonder if he can maybe. Change the shape of it/make it appear and disappear whenever he wants?

Also his hands constantly looking like they have blood on them??? AND IT CAN SPREAD ONTO THE SURFACES HE TOUCHES??? TEN OUT OF TEN ISTG THAT IS JUST SOMETHING ELSEEEE/POS

Your young Vlad looks so huggable idk why

(Sorry kinda unrelated but I feel like younger Vlad was SUCH a timid person. And he'd get shy fast but he'd also be quite confident whenever he wanted.)

THE LOWER PART OF HIS HAIR BEING WHITE. I WILL—*holds head* "yes officer it's this design right here—"/silly

AND THE SCAR

Gosh my favorite part EVER

THEM GLOWING

OH MY DAYS THAT IS AWESOME

He looks like a fiery demon from the pits of hell I love it

I'm here for it

I'll put him in a freezer so he can cool down—/silly

I think we should give him pomegranate sorbet I think he'll like it

Cuz like

It's sour, but also has a sliiiight sweetness to it, and it has a bitterness in its core because of the pomegranate seeds. Idk I feel like that is just. So Vlad. Shfjfkvkvkv—/silly

Also very randomly: Vlad be like:

"Oh look, a sophisticated business man!"

"Oh, he’s a little bit messed up, actually..."

BUT YEAH I JUST ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR DESIGN FOR HIM I'LL HOLD HIM IN MY HANDS LIKE A LITTLE CREATURE/POS

Jophofhchvv thank you I never know how to respond to but know that we're screaming together!

Here's some fun facts about EctoScience Vlad:

-I really wanted to give him a dangerous vibe, ghosts can eat other ghosts to grow stronger extremely quickly in this AU and that's partly why he's as strong as he is, the other part being... halfas are just very powerful. Simply. Anyways everyone in the Zone knows and fears him; at the start of the series he's almost a boogeyman of sorts there until Danny starts beating him.

- Vlad didn't have a ghost form at first! His becoming a Halfa actually took a long time due to how it happened, and that's technically how it'll go for Danny too, he's just further along due to his own death being wayyy more violent than Vlad's. The progression into full ghost has slowed down a lot in Vlad's case, but for the reason I just mentioned, Danny's progression is fast.

- The "I hate you!" "You're like me!" Exchange is something I've had in mind since the start. In this AU specifically the circumstances of their "deaths" are extremely similar, but above all Danny fears turning fully into a ghost will make him lose his humanity and turn him evil due to, you know, actually listening to the "all ghosts are evil" bogus his parents believe. Vlad can sense that insecurity and in this AU he latches onto it like a vice to make Danny think him joining Vlad's side is inevitable in the end.

- Yes, he CAN make his cape disappear if it starts getting in his way in a fight, but I would also like to highlight his fire core making him very warm. Cats love him.

- His general behaviour as a ghost has been changed a little, he acts and fights fairly normally at first, but if the fight drags on for too long or his opponent runs away he's going FULL HORROR MOVIE VILLAIN. That first fight in the mansion was a lot longer and made Danny genuinely fear for his life. Let Vlad be MORE unhinged when he's pissed off I say.

[demonpiratehuntress]

hi hello dearie, hope this finds you well <3 i’ve been reading some of your Ace content for DAYS cuz is ABSOLUTELY MAGNIFICENT and i have a hyperfixation for the man.

i have this oddly specific request if you’re taking requests ofc asksnakxm

ace and the reader meet each other when he saved her from potentially being killed by some random ruthless and murdering pirate, she was in that situation because he had killed some of her friends but that’s not the issue AKSNWKSB the thing is she gets mad because Ace saved her so she said sum “i was content with the fact that i was going to die, i didn’t need your saving” and he’s just stunned cuz? he just saved her???? two days later she thanks him but she tries to escape many times from the ship and those many times Ace ruined her plans so after a week of trying she gives up. THEN two years later they confess their feelings for each other after a day of Ace following her like a puppy and teasing her nonstop until she gives in

ODDLY SPECIFIC IM SO SORRY 😭😭 but it’s okay if you can’t do it <3

hi! thank you so much 😊 also im so so sorry this took so long! I've just been really busy! but i hope you enjoy this! to everyone else, i am still working on the other requests! i have much more than i realised 😂 but i will get them out...eventually

taglist - @kabloswrld

stubborn

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above! :)

warnings - mild angst

Run.

That's all you could think of, all you could do. There was no time or space to do anything else, and your body had already kicked into the fight-or-flight response. You weren't sure how far you could get, but you were desperate to get away.

The gory images of your friends lying sprawled out on the ground, drenched in blood, made itself a home in your mind. You would never be able to forget that, no matter how hard you tried. Swallowing back a sob, you sprinted towards the town as fast as your tired legs could carry you.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?"

A solid wall of muscle slammed into you from the side and sent you flying. You hit an actual wall with a sickening crunch, pain erupting throughout your entire arm. Dislocated shoulder or broken arm, you couldn't tell which one through the blinding agony. You screamed, more so out of pain than wanting someone to hear. You already accepted your fate, the minute he found you. But that didn't make it any less painful.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this kill the most."

A large hand grabbef a fistful of your hair, yanking you upwards to meet his cold, murderous eyes. He was grinning wickedly, taking pleasure in your pain, and watched you squirm in his grip helplessly.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with!" You spat, not knowing where the bravery came from because of the immense pain emanating from your injured limb.

He tutted, "No, you gave me too much trouble. I'm going to make this slow and painful, just for you."

"Now that's no way to treat a lady."

A bright orange light filled your vision, but you couldn't tell what it was as you were suddenly dropped, the man who'd murdered your friends letting out a pained yelp. You lifted your head, dots swimming in your vision, but you were able to make out the familisr form of flames dancing along the man's chest.

"Judging from all the blood on your clothes, I'm gonna guess you went a little crazy tonight," another man was saying, but he sounded childishly amused. "Well, too bad it ends for you right here."

You turned to look at the owner, just as he flicked his wrist and sent more fire the murderous pirate's way. Pretty soon he was engulfed in flames, screaming and pawing at his clothes while trying to extinguish them. You couldn't care less, observing the man who'd saved your life.

He was tall and muscular, pale skin lit up by the ball of fire hovering above his palm. No, wait, his hand WAS the ball of fire. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but black shorts, black boots and a red cowboy hat.

You'd seen him somewhere before...

"Ah, good. I thought that might take a while."

You turned back to the man who'd killed your friends and had been chasing you up until now, only to see a crumpled black heap on the floor a few feet away. Your eyes widened, before you were suddenly lifted up into a pair of strong arms.

"I didn't need your help," you blurted out, "I was ready to die! I didn't want to be saved!" Tears formed in your eyes. You had nothing left. You should have died.

Ace frowned, his heart sinking. Your words brought a familiar feeling back to him, one that he hasn't forgotten but had tried to push away after finding a family in the Whitebeard pirates. He knew what it was like to feel the way you did, and it tugged at his heartstrings to find someone else like that.

Someone who didn't want saving, but desperately needed it.

He's so shocked that he almost forgets you need medical treatment. When he finally remembers, he says nothing and hurries back to the ship with you, his mind racing.

-

Two days later, your arm is in a sling and you're walking around the Moby Dick looking for the raven-haired commander that saved your life. The crew was friendly enough to you, and Marco had suggested more bedrest, but you wanted to see and thank Ace.

It was true that you wanted to die, yes, but after facing the kindness of someone you didn't even know, your mind had slowly changed. You were starting to feel grateful towards him, grateful for being alive.

"Hey! You're awake!"

You turned at the sound of the cheery man, spotting him coming your way. You relaxed slightly, not sure why you were so tense to begin with but relieved to see him.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "Your doctor works wonders."

"That he does," Ace grinned, before eyeing you up and down, "You look a lot better. I didn't get your name, though."

"Oh, it's (Name)," you told him, "You're Portgas D. Ace, right? Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates?"

"That's me. Glad to know I'm popular with pretty women," he flirted, sending you a smile that knocked the air out of your lungs.

You blushed, flustered, "Well I-I just wanted to say...thank you. I hadn't realised it before, but I didn't really want to die. Just thought I had no one left, and nowhere to go. So thank you for changing that."

Ace's smile only grew, so much so you feared it would tear his face in two, "You're welcome! If I'm being honest, I was glad to play hero for a beautiful woman."

Your blush deepened, his charms affecting you in a way that nothing else and no one else ever had. You found yourself at a loss for words, but thankfully he was called away so you didn't have to say anything else.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

-

The first time you tried to escape, you didn't realise they had a rotational watch schedule. And you hadn't realised that Ace was the one who was on watch that evening.

"Hey, (Name)! Where ya going?"

He smiled at you innocently enough, but his eyes told you he knew exactly what you were trying to do. After all, he'd done the same thing back when he joined. You were just too similar to him.

"Uh...nowhere?" You tried to lie, but you sucked at it. You couldn't even convince a potato if you tried.

"Hmm," he clicked his tongue. "This won't do. Maybe I should just tell Whitebeard, or should I keep this to myself in hopes that it doesn't happen again?"

You agreed to the latter.

The second time, Ace was actually sneaking out of the kitchen with some food when he bumped into you. He raised his eyebrow as your eyes widened, your face giving away your intentions entirely.

He tsk'ed, "Again, (Name)?" He pouted. "You promised, you know."

You sighed and went back to your room, dejected. You could hear him laughing as he walked past your room, and you rolled your eyes as you laid back down to sleep.

The third time, Ace was prepared.

And he had made a trap for you. Which you fell right into, which is why you were now wriggling around in one of the smaller boats, wrestling with a net.

"This is getting old, you know," Ace chuckled as he loomed over you. "Trust me, I know all the tricks. I was you once."

After the fourth and fifth times, you gave up. Ace wasn't going to let you leave, and as the days went by and you got closer to him and the crew, you found your will to leave slowly sapping away. You eventually realised you wanted to stay, having found a family and healed - if only a little bit - with the Whitebeard crew.

One year passed, and you had almost forgotten about the man who'd tormented you. You'd had so much fun with the Whitebeard Pirates, Ace in particular, that you hadn't thought much of the incident. It was getting easier and easier to rid your mind of the gruesome image of your deceased friends month after month. Each adventure left you happier, lighter, and you soon found yourself finding happiness once more.

The pirate life was truly meant for you.

Two years passed, and your time with the Whitebeard crew had become the best of your life. They were practically your family now, and you spoke about and to them as such. You never forgot what happened to you, but you barely thought of it anymore. Not when your head was filled with thoughts about a certain 2nd division commander, with whom you'd fallen in love.

"Ace, stop!" You giggled as he scooped up some batter from the bowl you were mixing it in. You were baking cookies, but Ace was determined to be a menace and sneak in fingerfuls of batter each time you looked away.

"Can't help it," he whined, "It already tastes so good!"

"I haven't even baked it yet!"

"Well then imagine how amazing it'll taste after that!"

You knew he was trying to flatter you to get out of trouble, but you did not care because it was working. And you hated that it always worked, especially with him, because he made your heart race and gave you butterflies.

The days following that included Ace following you around, which you found a little strange since you didn't know why. He would never tell you the reason, always saying something stupid like "you smell good" or "im your bodyguard". You knew he was doing it to tease you, but you couldn't help feeling giddy over the fact that he was choosing to gift YOU with all of his attention.

"Okay, come clean for real this time," you finally approached him one night he was on watch, sitting down next to him. "Why have you been following me around? Teasing me all day, everyday?"

He turned to you, thinking for a moment before speaking seriously for the first time in his life, "Because I'm in love with you, (Name). I didn't want to tell you because I wasn't sure how you'd react or what you'd say, but that's what it is since you wanted to know so badly."

Your eyes went wide, heart thumping like a drum in your chest, "You...you're in love with me?"

He nodded, looking down at his shorts, "I am. These past two years, getting to know you...well, I never really considered the idea of love. But finding you changed that. We're so alike, but also different in ways that complement each other. If that makes sense, I'm not sure it does."

"It does," you smiled slowly, looking out over the water. "And that's really sweet. No one's ever said something so sweet to me before."

"Really? I find that hard to believe, you're so pretty and cute."

Cue the blush, "Yeah, well, I didn't really like anyone before you," you admitted. "Never paid attention to men much, until you barged into my life." You laughed. "You've made me feel so welcome, so comfortable, so happy. You've given me a sense of peace after what happened, and I'm so thankful to you for that. You saved me in more than one way, Ace, and I'm madly in love with you for it."

Your confession took a bit of time to register in his head, but once it did he was smiling goofily and grasping your hand in his. You rested your head on his shoulder, smiling as the two of you spent the whole night holding hands, watching the ocean, and - your favourite part - sharing many heartfelt, intimate kisses.

You were eternally grateful to and for Ace, the man who'd saved you without your permission but eventually earned your heart.