#WELL HELLO THERE [VISAGE]

[possession1981-moving]

💖

[ruinlost]

The Sun

             The Moon 

                             and the Stars : @erabundus​ & @ruinlost​

[catfcng]

mike tags

🐾 - ( interaction ) . mike - *i’m here to win. that prize … it’s mine!

🐾 - ( visage ) . mike - *cheated? cheated?! oh ; I am offended!

🐾 - ( aesthetic ) .  mike - *i happened to have studied in the lincoln school of music!

🐾 - ( desires ) .  mike - *well ; well ; well … hello again.

🐾 - ( canons ) . mike - *oh ; for crying out loud!

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the ravenous rupture

fused with the foe, chapter five

a/n: and that's it for fused with the foe! but don't you worry, our wonderful king and queen will return in both of the next instalments of the series ♡ (the release date for the next one is already up on the masterlist)

summary: “I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, love confession, crying, kissing, loss of virginity, semi-public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, oral, fingering, handjob, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, aftercare

word count: 3895

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Raising yourself up onto your tip toes, your fingertip still didn’t even manage to graze the spine of the tome you were trying to reach, only the tall shelf it stood on. 

But just then, before you could turn to get a chair to balance on, an inked hand came into view and grasped the book for you. 

“The Biology of Soil: A Farmer’s Comprehensive Study of Dirt,” Barnes dryly read the title out loud, “sounds absolutely riveting.”

“Don’t mock,” you snatched the leatherbound tome out of the knight’s hand, “it is interesting!”

“Of course, it is, your majesty,” he bit down a chuckle, “my apologies.”

A soft laugh couldn’t help but bubble out of you as you exited the library, “you know, you remind me a lot of my brothers.”

Walking at your side, he shot you a squint, “is that a compliment?”

“Well, I meant it as so, but I guess it could also be interpreted as an insult, all depending on which brother.”

Sinking further back into the plush armchair, your eyes danced from star to star as they glinted back at you through the big library window. 

The full moon was so bright that you hadn’t needed to light a candle in order to make out the sentences in the open book that rested in your lap. 

But suddenly, the creak of the heavy double doors to the chamber found your ears and when you twisted your head to discover who it was, your frame immediately sprung up from your comfortable seat. The forgotten tome tumbled to the floor with a dull thump as the embroidered dressing gown you wore over your ivory chemise fluttered around your legs as you swiftly stood.

“Your majesty–, Steve, I mean, Steve,” you clumsily corrected yourself, “hi, hello.”

“Evening,” he simply smiled, slowing his stride as he watched you bend down to pick the hardback off the floor. 

Hugging the book to your chest, you blew out a breath, “what–, uh…” you eyed the loose linen shirt he had sloppily tugged into his trousers, “what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, “thought a boring novel might do the trick,” letting his fingertips kiss the ends of each bookcase as he neared you by the window, “what about you?”

“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” a soft sigh flowed from your lips, “my mind just doesn’t seem to wanna settle down these days…”

A gentle furrow appeared to Steve’s brow, “what’s troubling you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” you placed the book down on the round side table by the armchair. 

“If it’s keeping you up then it’s not nothing,” gripping the tall back of the chair, he rested against it as he gazed at your visage in the moonlight, “come on, you can talk to me.”

The knot in your chest tightened, “no, I can’t,” and you averted your gaze to the stone floor, “I really can’t…”

“Why?” 

“Because–…” clenching your jaw in an effort to keep tears at bay, you briefly shot him a glare as you snapped, “because I just can’t, alright?” squeezing your eyes shut, you quietly muttered just beneath your breath, “gods… how long will I have to wait…” 

Having apparently had better hearing than you’d thought, Steve then queried, “wait for what?”

Fluttering your eyes back open, you met his gaze and uttered sombrely, “…for it to pass…” feeling your heart thump painfully in your chest just from the mere sight of him. 

A low sigh slowly seeped out of his lungs before his unwavering gaze averted to the upholstery of the chair, “…I hope you know that I’ve grown to care for you a great deal. You’re a very dear friend,” he uttered with the utmost sincerity, “and as a dear friend, I wish for you nothing but the purest of happiness. I want you to experience all of the great and wonderful things that life has to offer,” his ocean eyes then drifted back up to catch yours, “don’t let our union hold you back for any of that.”

Sucking in a breath, you asked, “what do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

Averting your gaze, “…is that what you want?” you dug your nails into your opposite palm, “for us both to openly be with other people?”

“I don’t want you to be lonely and depressed,” fragments of desperation resonated in his tone, “you’ve already experienced more than one lifetime of hardships and I really don’t want this to be another one. So, when you fall in love, please don’t hesitate. You of all people deserve to experience that.” 

“…I–…” a shaky breath escaped you, “I can’t–…”

“…you can’t?” he echoed in nearly a whisper. 

“I can’t because–…” lifting your gaze, the library around you grew more blurry by the second, “because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you revealed, “from the moment that I wake to even the dreams that possess me at night. I can not shake you from my thoughts no matter how hard I try,” as you blinked, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “Steve, I wish for you to experience those very joys you speak of just as fiercely. I just want you to be happy even if I’m not the source.”

Looking as if he was scarcely breathing at all, his gaze stayed fixed upon you as he uttered, “dove, why do you think I wish that for you?” your eyes grew wide at his confession, “I don’t wanna be with someone else when you are the one I want by my side,” his fingers faltered from the grip they had on the back of the armchair as his slow steps began to carry him closer to where you stood, “not just as my queen, but as my friend, as my conscience, as my judgement, as my heart,” his eyes glistened as he then declared, “I am yours, Y/n. I didn’t plan for it, I don’t even know when it happened or how, but I do know that it’s true.”

Closing the short distance that remained, you walked up and pulled him down as you began to rise up to your tip toes. As you crashed your lips against his, it didn’t take long before you felt his broad hands glide over your waist. 

Breaking the kiss, you retracted just enough to catch the beguiling look in his eye. The corners of his lips drew up dreamily just as yours did right before you dove back in.

As your fingers weaved in his beard, so did his tongue as it danced against your own, making you lightheaded as your feet began to shuffle back, though you didn’t realise that you’d even been moving till your spine crashed against a sturdy bookcase. 

Parting momentarily at the impact, a soft giggle swiftly followed your initial squeak the collision conjured. As his gentle chuckle echoed your own, Steve’s palm caressed down your features before he captured your lips once more. 

When the fire inside of you crackled and burned too hot for you to ignore, you pulled back, a glossy string of saliva still kept you connected a moment before you gasped, “Steve, I–… I–…”

Resting his palms over yours as they clutched the top of his tunic, he tilted his chin back further, “what?” creating enough of a distance between you to truly check in. 

But how you were going to ask of him what you desired remained a mystery, no matter how hard you scrambled your fuzzy mind. So instead, you wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists and slowly guided it lower. 

“Dove…” he sucked in a breath as his gaze shadowed the journey you were taking his touch on, “do you wanna–…” finding your eye, he asked you softly, “you sure you know what it is you’re asking for?” 

“Yes,” swiftly flowed out of you as you nodded dizzily, “I–… I know. I read the books, I read all of them, I know how it all works,” your rushed words conjured a lovely little chuckle from the royal, “I just–… please?” your hot breathed fanned across his features as he leaned back in close, “I–… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…” with your fingers still enveloped around his wrist, his touch slowly began to take over and to move on its own, “fantasising about what you might be like…” unhurriedly ghosting up and down the curve of your waist, “about what your touch must feel like…” each time creeping closer and closer to where you wished for him to caress, “how it differs compared to my own…” till his teasing touch ended each fluttering swoop with feather-light grazes at both the swell of your tits, as well as the lower part of your abdomen, just before he actually reached anything real, through still leaving you utterly dazed. 

Leaning a forearm against the shelf behind you, he smirked, “…you think about me?” 

“Every night,” you dug your fingers in the fabric of your chemise and pleadingly began to hike it up, “sometimes the sun doesn’t even manage to set before I need a moment alone… all because of you.”

As he then captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his wandering hand dipped under your thin shift before you’d even raised the hem completely. When his touch found your buzzing pearl, a whimper slipped from your lungs and vibrated against his tongue as your grip on the fabric faltered and it dropped to hang around his wrist like a curtain.

“Is this how you dreamed about me touching you?” he gazed down at you, smiling at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Mind melting to ooze, you bubbled, “yes–, but also–, oh!” your brows knit together as he switched to circle your clit harder, “a-also–”

“Also how?” you could hear your want reverberate off the palace walls as he touched you, “did you dream about me kissing you down here?” holding your gaze, Steve then sank to his knees before you. 

Your breaths came in ragged as you blinked down at him, “y-yes,” watching intently as he dipped his head under your gathered-up skirts. The sloppy pecks he then lavishly began to plant over your glistening petals felt like nothing you’d ever imagined, “oh, that’s–,” you let out a broken moan, “don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Throwing your head back against the bookcase, Steve’s grip buried in your crumbled clothes as his soft tongue dragged through your desperation. 

Letting go of your chemise with one hand, it drifted down your hip. Enclosing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked down hard as his fingers joined to sweep through your mess, only parting from you for a breath, “gods, you taste so fucking good,” before he eased one digit inside your clenching cunt. 

You barely noticed that it was falling before the robe you wore slipped off your frame and tumbled to a puddle on the floor, leaving you with only the thin shift and the king’s hot kisses for warmth in the cold night. 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whimpered, reaching down to thread your fingers in his honied hair as a second finger sneaked in beside the other, fucking you gently with them. 

You nearly wiggled out of his grasp when his luscious laps unravelled you completely, but somehow the monarch managed to follow your every squirm till he softened his efforts and replaced them with a few soft pecks over your sensitive clit that made your whole form twitch.

Fluttering your eyes open, you met his gaze as he raised the back of his hand to wipe some of your juices from his beard. 

Breathlessly, you uttered, “get up,” and as he did, you didn’t waste any time before your eyes drifted from his tender stare, “take your shirt off.” 

With one hand, he reached back and tugged the tunic off of his head, swiftly letting it drop to the floor and join the fabric puddle already at your feet. 

For a moment, he didn’t give in on his urge to close the short distance between you, simply stood there and let your stare study him, learn the galaxy of his flesh, every little mark and scar that told the story of his past. 

With your eyes still glued to the burliness of his fuzzy chest, you uttered, “tell me again,” before lifting your gaze up to meet his, “tell me again so that I know this is real.”

Reaching out to grasp your right hand, he said, “it’s real,” stepping closer as he placed your ceremonially scarred palm over his heart, “I’m real, this is real,” his fingers on his own marked hand, which clasped over yours, gently brushed over your knuckles as he spoke, “I am yours,” he shifted again and closed the small gap between you, “I will always be yours till my dying breath.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you watched as the moonlight glinted in the blue of his eyes, making them look like the sea on a stormy night. 

“I think my heart has belonged to you ever since the dragon attack,” you professed, “though it took me a while longer before I realised what it was, why you made me feel the way that you do,” you parted your fingers against his chest, “Steve,” and let his weave in with your own, “I love you.”

Using his hold as an advantage, Steve yanked you to him till your lips crashed against his. Letting your free hand wander across his warm skin, it swiftly came down to cup the palpable tent in his trousers.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly as you offered him a light pet. 

As you shifted to fiddle after the buttons on the side of his breeches, even the aid of your other hand didn’t yield any success in undoing more than one of them. Swiftly coming to your rescue, you swore it only took him three seconds before they hung loose enough around his hips for his cock to spring free.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you glanced down at length which stood so proud it poked you in the stomach. If only you had the proper context to truly know how intimidated you should have been at the discovery of his fat girth. 

Hesitantly inching your fingers closer as you stared, you asked, “can I–…?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slowly brought your hand the rest of the way down, engulfing his own grasp around yours and gently showing you how to touch him. 

As a sinful curse flowed from Steve’s lips, his free hand drifted up to weave itself into your hair. 

“Will it hurt?” you watched how your fingers failed to meet on the other side of his girth. 

“I don’t know, I hope not,” his forehead rested against your own, “but if it does, then we just stop and figure something else out, okay?”

“Okay…” you hazily nodded. 

Feeling his fingers flex around your own, you saw precum glint at the bulbous tip. 

“It’s all for you, dove,” you felt him throb at your touch, “all because of you,” a desperate growl then seeped out of his lungs as he seized your lips in a fervent kiss, and the next thing you knew, the whole world fell out from under you as he scooped you up into his arms. When a shrill yelp escaped you, Steve simply readjusted his grip on you and said, “don’t worry, I’ve got you,” nipping gently at your neck, “I won’t let you fall.”

With your fingers still grasping his girth, the new position now had your pussy pressed dangerously close to it, so close that you couldn’t help but sweep the head of his cock through your soppy folds and drench him. Tapping your clit a few times, the instinctual drive of his hips triggered you to simply cup his length near and let him part your pretty petals and lather himself in your needy nectar. Each desperate thrust ended in an electric nudge at your pearl, rendering you to whimper shakily into the night. 

But then suddenly, in the fog of it all, the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside, purely because of just how wet and ready you were. 

“O-oh, fuck!” everything froze as you reeled at the staggering sensation, breathlessly digging your nails into his broad shoulders and leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“Sorry,” he hastily panted, “you okay?”

“Uh–… uh-huh,” you nodded fuzzily, shutting your eyes a moment as you caught your breath. 

But then as your gaze fluttered open once more, you caught his stare and offered him a short, affirming nod, holding his eye as he slowly began to move. 

Your mouth hung agape as he shallowly fucked you, barely even giving you anything but still turning you into goo in his grasp. 

“Y-you’re so beautiful,” you whispered as you fluttered around him. 

Gliding you’re your palm up to his cheek, moans tumbled out of you both as he gently began to offer you more. Your legs couldn’t help but twitch in his grasp as he practically split you in half with the way he eased you down on his fat cock. 

“You’re doing so well,” his face crumbled up in a silent moan as you felt every detail of him slowly stretch you out, “gods, you’re so wet…”

And the next thing you knew, it wasn’t so slow and steady any longer, as the bookcase your spine was pressed against rattled at his efforts. 

You thought before that just the bulbous head of him was overwhelming, but to have that tip kiss desperately against the deepest part of you was something else entirely. You couldn’t speak, you couldn't think, you could barely even breathe, just go slack in his firm hold and feel him, not just right there, but fucking everywhere, that’s how stuffed you were. 

Steve’s strength wasn’t that novel to you these days, but to have him lift you up and sink you down on his cock, like you were just a leaf on the wind, still managed to amaze you. 

“F-fuck,” you blubbered as you tumbled over the edge once more, “oh, fuck!” accidentally knocking a few books down as one of your arms flailed for purchase. 

You barely registered the loud thud the crashing books emanated as your frame melted down into his hold. Your face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he breathlessly came to a halt, still embedded deep inside of your clenching cunt. 

The sound of his breaths directly in your ear helped to soothe your tingling senses as he rested his cheek against the crown of your head. 

Shifting his feet, Steve carried you the short distance over to the comfortable armchair you’d inhabited earlier. Carefully sitting down in it and keeping you in his lap, his arms silkily slid up your back and hugged you close. 

After persuading you to curl out of your hiding spot by planting soft pecks all over your face, you blinked down at him, bathed in the moonlight that gushed in from the tall window beside where you sat.

Gliding a hand around to your front, Steve gently tugged on the thin string at your neckline, undoing the bow, before he pulled the shoulders down your arms till you slid out of the sleeves and the top of the undergarment crumbled to gather at your waist with the rest of the fabric. 

As he pressed his lips to the peak of your tits, one of his palms accompanied the kisses. A soft whine flowed out of you as your hand slid down to where your bodies were still joined and played with your puffy pearl. 

Casting a glance down, he groaned, “yeah, rub that little clit for me,” and your hips intuitively began to rock gently. 

As you touched yourself, something else caught your attention as you slowly began to ride him. At the lower part of your stomach, you felt the dull bulge of his staggering size poke your palm steadily to the rhythm of your gentle efforts.

Letting your pebbly nipple escape from his lips with a pop, his gravelly timbre washed over you as you slowly rocked, “that’s it, fuck–,” his grip slid down to be firm on your ass, “that’s my girl.”

Abruptly, as if snapping out of a trance, you notice just how loud you both were being.

“Wait,” you shushed him though didn’t halt your hips motions, “we’re in the library, someone could hear us!”

“Then fucking let them hear us,” his fingers dug into your ass as he desperately took over and bounced you in his lap, manhandling you as he slammed you down on his cock hard enough for you to lose your breath, “no one would dare bother us, trust me.”

And before you knew it, your cunt clamped down one last time around his cock, hard enough to halt his efforts and milk him of all of his worth. 

Weakly letting his dick slip out, your skin was practically glued to his as you plastered yourselves to each other and you sensed his hot load slowly leaked out of your sensitive hole. 

As you listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal and your heavy lids fought to stay open, a thought entered your mind. 

“Hey, Steve?”

Shifting his arms around you, his soft hum washed over you, “hm?”

Keeping your voice low, you shared, “I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight…” but to your surprise, a gentle chuckle then rumbled in his chest, “what?” you lifted your head and blinked up at him, “why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just­­–,” he smiled, gazing down at you as if Zondür himself had divinely created you especially for him, “you really think I’d let you skip off to your room alone after all of that, like it never even happened?” 

Huffing out a short giggle, you lowered your glance, “well, when you put it like that…”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “if you want me to sleep beside you, I will,” rising from his comfortable seat, he readjusted his grip on you, twisting you to him as he hooked an arm behind your knees and at your back. As he carried you close, he began to lumber out of the library and down the hallway, concurring the short distance to where your chambers lied, “my queen, I would love nothing more for the rest of my days than to fall asleep with your head on my chest and wake up to your softness arching against me…”

Flexing your fingers around his neck, you raised yourself up enough to capture his lips in a tender kiss one last time just as he kicked your bedroom door shut behind you both.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [18]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 17 | Fic Masterlist | Part 19

Despite the blurring of his vision, Seonghwa desperately stumbled towards the entrance of his estate. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. If anyone noticed his severe wound, it would only be a matter of time before you found out too.

That was the last thing he wanted.

He had tried so hard to hide his injury from you, not wanting to cause you any more worry. Perhaps having Yeosang pursuing you wasn't such a bad thing after all. Unlike the general, the prince wouldn't have to leave for war and risk his life. His Highness also wouldn't have the burden of blood on his hands or the constant fear he instilled in you.

Most importantly, the fourth prince wasn't on the brink of death, bleeding out at this very moment. Prince Yeosang could consistently remain by your side, offering a life even more luxurious than this. Though it pained him to think about leaving you to another man's care, Seonghwa convinced himself that this was all for the best.

His gaze locked on his horse, still waiting by the entrance, servants tending to it. He was determined to ride back to the warzone, if he could survive the journey—or anywhere else, for that matter. He understood that you wouldn't be able to bear seeing him in such a state, regardless of the cruel words he'd uttered just moments ago.

That was the kind of angel you were.

From the beginning, he recognised your heart of gold. It was what endeared you to him so deeply; you were unique in that way. Despite the torture your family had subjected you to, he knew you would never wish ill upon them regardless.

This was all the more reason he couldn't allow you to discover his injury. He knew without a doubt that your heart would soften instantly and forgive him for all he had done. He couldn't afford that; he needed you to despise him. Only then would his absence hurt less, and perhaps, it would steer you toward the prince. You deserved far better than anything he could offer. Despite facing his own mortality, nothing frightened him more than the uncertainty of your well-being in the world he was about to depart from, leaving you behind.

"Master, are you departing so soon?" The servant, looking after the horse, was taken aback by his master's abrupt decision to leave. Everyone had anticipated him staying at least a day to resolve matters with the mistress and spend some time together before returning to the war site.

Seonghwa nodded, striving to maintain his composure, "Yes, assist me onto the horse. I'm needed back at the warzone."

Observing the general's slightly pale and sweaty visage, the servant refrained from commenting on it for fear of angering him. Instead, he bowed, "Of course, master."

But before your husband could even mount his horse, the last person he wanted to encounter at that moment called out to him from behind, "Yah, Park Seonghwa! How dare you try and leave without even saying hello?" He froze at Hongjoong's loud voice, a shiver of apprehension running through him as he glanced back to see his old friend, accompanied by Wooyoung, approaching, "Sir, are you really leaving already?"

Goddamnit, so close.

Meanwhile, across the estate, Yunho and Jongho hurried towards the House of Lotus, only to discover you all alone and heartbroken on the ground. The assistant gasped, rushing to help you up, "Mistress! Are you alright? Where's the general?"

Gazing up at him with tears streaking your cheeks, your heart ached at the mention of Seonghwa. Noticing the physician beside Jongho, eyes darting around urgently, you frowned in confusion, "He left not long ago... What's happening? What's wrong?"

You had remained motionless since your husband's departure, sprawled on the ground with tears streaming down your face as you struggled to comprehend the sudden change in his behaviour. Why was he treating you like this? Could there be any truth to his harsh words? Had he already grown tired of you? Just when you thought your anguish couldn't intensify, the anxiety evident on the assistant's and doctor's faces only heightened your dread.

"He left?! I'm sorry, mistress! There's no time to explain. Here, read this, and you'll understand." Jongho exclaimed urgently. Yunho dashed out as soon as he heard your words, prompting the younger man to swiftly shove a crumpled piece of paper into your hands before hurrying after the physician.

As you hastily wiped your tears, your trembling fingers unfolded the crumpled paper to reveal a letter from General Officer Song Mingi addressed to the doctor. Your heart sank to your stomach as you read the hurriedly written words.

'Physician Jung, I hope this letter finds you swiftly, for it bears urgent news concerning General Park. In the recent battle with the enemy forces, he sustained a grave injury inflicted by a weapon laced with viper venom. Upon discovering the nature of the toxin, we immediately recognised the severity of the situation. The venom acts swiftly and ruthlessly, spreading its deadly effects throughout the body if not treated promptly. Time is of the essence. I implore you to attend to the general without delay.'

Letting out a shaky exhale, the letter slipped from your trembling fingers and fell to the ground, the weight of its contents settling heavily in your chest. Every word echoed in your mind, painting a vivid picture of Seonghwa's dire situation. It felt as if the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place, revealing a truth you hadn't dared to consider before. Had he been in immense pain this entire time?

The thought sent a chill down your spine.

Was it possible that your husband's sudden shift in behaviour, his departure, and harsh words, were all a desperate attempt to protect you from the truth? Was he afraid to burden you with the knowledge of his injury, to face your worry and concern?

Park Seonghwa, you bloody idiot.

Your heart ached at the possibility. Despite the hurtful words he said to you, a wave of empathy washed over you, mingling with the fear and uncertainty swirling within.

With determination fueling every step, you left your quarters in search of the general, resolved to stand by him regardless of the obstacles ahead. Your love for him was unwavering, and you were prepared to fight for him with every fibre of your being. He was mistaken if he thought his attempts to push you away would succeed. You refused to leave his side without a fight.

As you arrived in the main courtyard, your heart lurched at the sight before you. Jongho and Wooyoung were scrambling to hold up your husband, who appeared unconscious, while Hongjoong and Yunho guided them past you, heading towards what you presumed to be Seonghwa's private quarters. Their apologetic glances only added to your distress as you stepped aside to let them pass, your eyes growing wet at the sight of his pale and weakened appearance—something you had never witnessed before.

A wave of fear washed over you as you watched him being ushered away, threatening to consume you whole. The possibility of losing him suddenly felt all too real, and you couldn't bear the thought of a world without him in it.

Regret flooded your mind as you chastised yourself for not being more perceptive to his suffering earlier. How could you have let your emotions cloud your judgement? How could you have missed the signs that he was in such pain? You should have known, should have realised that he was going through something. You should have known that there must have been a good reason for his actions, for his attempts to push you away.

Deep down, you knew that he loved you just as much as you loved him, and there had to be a greater purpose behind his actions. All you could do now was have faith in his love and pray for his recovery.

The head maid rushed to your side, her face etched with concern, as she gently steadied you by holding onto your shoulders. You hadn't realised you were swaying until then, your head buried in your hands, "Come, mistress," She said softly, "Let's return to the House of Lotus and wait for good news. The master is in capable hands with Physician Jung. Everything will be alright."

You shook your head, voicing your protest, "But Eunsook, I need to be close to him—"

She smiled gently, squeezing your hands, "I know you do. But you wouldn't want to get in the way, would you? Let the others handle things for now, alright? Master will be just fine; he's much stronger than you think."

With a heavy sigh, you finally nodded in defeat and allowed her to guide you back to your quarters, realising she was right. You wouldn't be of any help to the guys, and it was better to stay out of their way while they worked to treat him at this critical moment.

Please, Yunho. I'm counting on you.

"Jongho, I need you to gather as much echinacea herb as possible from around town. It's the most effective plant for treating venom and relieving pain." The doctor urgently ordered, focusing on removing the layers of clothing from the general.

The assistant bowed, "Yes, Physician Jung!" before swiftly departing with Wooyoung, who had volunteered to assist.

Hongjoong stayed behind to help out, though he struggled to conceal his worry. His hands trembled as he observed the blood staining Seonghwa's clothes and noted the general's pale complexion as he lay almost lifelessly on the bed.

Noticing the dressmaker's distress, Yunho attempted to divert his attention, "So, where's the mistress?"

Clearing his throat to dispel the growing lump, the older man responded with a strained voice, "The last I saw, Eunsook took her back to the House of Lotus."

The doctor nodded, mustering a smile, "Good, it's best she doesn't see him like this. Now, hyung, I need you to focus and keep your emotions in check. Can you do that?"

Blinking rapidly, Hongjoong straightened up, determined to shake off the previous scene. Seonghwa had passed out shortly after spotting him and Wooyoung, halting any attempt to mount his horse. The surge of fear the dressmaker felt then was beyond words. But now, he knew he had to concentrate. Hearing Yunho use "hyung" after so long was grounding, a reminder that emotions had no place in their current situation. He nodded resolutely, "Of course. Just tell me what to do."

Together, they swiftly removed the general's bloodied clothes and tended to his wound, expecting a deep gash but finding only a surface graze. They were puzzled by the discrepancy between the amount of blood and the minor injury. Fortunately, it seemed the venom hadn't spread far; the discolouration was limited to the immediate area around the wound.

The physician concluded that Seonghwa's loss of consciousness was likely due to exhaustion and lack of proper treatment rather than the severity of the injury itself. With the herb they were gathering, he should recover fully in a few weeks.

Right on cue, Jongho and Wooyoung arrived back at the estate, slightly out of breath but carrying an abundance of echinacea as requested by Yunho. Without delay, the group of servants assigned to the doctor immediately sprang into action, following his instructions diligently. They divided the batch of herbs in half: one portion was prepared into a paste for external use, while the other was transformed into a tonic for consumption. With both methods employed, they were confident they could expel all traces of the venom from the general's system in no time.

As the first batch of medication was prepared within a few hours, the team of staff assisted Yunho with applying the paste over Seonghwa's wound and feeding him the tonic. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw his condition stabilise. Hongjoong felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he watched the colour gradually return to his friend's face.

Turning to Jongho, the dressmaker spoke, "Go on and fetch the mistress. She must be worried sick about him."

With an enthusiastic bow, the assistant hurried off to find you after receiving an approving nod from the physician, signalling that it was safe for you to visit your husband. When he arrived at your quarters, he found you pacing anxiously. Your steps halted abruptly when he called out, "Mistress!"

You held your breath until the younger man broke into a wide smile, "He's okay. You can go see him now."

A wave of relief washed over you, melting away the fear that had gripped your heart just moments ago. A small part of you had prepared for the worst, imagining a world without Seonghwa by your side, and the thought left you feeling utterly lost and alone. The prospect of becoming a widow, of navigating life without the man who had brought so much happiness into your world, was almost unbearable.

So when Jongho appeared in a rush, your heart leapt into your throat with fear. But as he delivered the news of the general's recovery, you couldn't contain the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you. Tears of relief streamed down your cheeks as you thanked the assistant.

With a reassuring smile, the younger man gently led you towards your husband, guiding you to the one person who had always been your anchor in the storm.

As you approached Seonghwa's quarters, your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. The memory of your last encounter with him lingered in your mind, casting a shadow of uncertainty over your thoughts. What if he didn't want to see you? What if his harsh words were a reflection of his true feelings, and he had truly grown tired of your presence?

However, anger also simmered beneath the surface as you contemplated the possibility. How dare he speak to you in such a manner, dismissing your feelings and calling you troublesome? The hurt of his words slowly gave way to indignation as you recalled the promise he had made to protect you from disrespect. Yet, he had been the one to wound you with his callous remarks.

Entering the room, you temporarily pushed aside the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you moments before. Your eyes immediately sought out your husband's still unconscious figure lying on the bed, and all other thoughts faded into the background.

Yunho moved aside respectfully to allow you a clear view, bowing in acknowledgement before addressing you, "Ah, Lady Park, you're here. Well then, I'll leave the general to your care for now. I should probably go and write back to General Officer Song to update him on his superior's status."

You nodded gratefully, offering him a warm smile, "Thank you so much for all your hard work, Physician Jung."

He shook his head modestly, returning your smile, "Please don't mention it, my lady. I'm just doing my job. We've given him the first batch of medication so far, and thankfully, his body is responding well to it. I plan to administer this to him daily. I'm confident he should be fully recovered in a few weeks."

Sitting beside Seonghwa on the bed, watching him peacefully asleep, tears welled in your eyes. His chest rose and fell steadily, a reassuring sign that he was still alive, still with you. It felt almost like déjà vu, reminiscent of the moment when he had first discovered your scars, except back then, it was you who lay on the bed.

With a trembling hand, you reached out toward his face, longing to touch him, to reassure yourself that he was truly okay. But before your fingertips could make contact, his combat reflexes kicked in, and he startled you by grabbing your wrist tightly, his eyes snapping open in alarm. As recognition dawned on his face, he relaxed his grip, softening at the sight of you.

"It's you..."

His reaction, though simple, was more than enough to convince you that he still felt the same for you. Instant relief filled your being, realising that all your previous worries about him growing tired of you were for nothing. You should have known better than to doubt his feelings for you.

After a moment, as if recalling your earlier exchange, he released your hand and turned away, attempting to maintain a stoic expression, "What are you still doing here? Aren't you angry with me?"

You scoffed, withdrawing your hand and crossing your arms over your chest, "How long do you plan to keep up this facade? Wasn't it enough that you said those hurtful things to me earlier? Calling me a burden and suggesting I leave you for another man."

At that, Hongjoong and Wooyoung interjected, reminding you both of their presence. The dressmaker shot up from his seat, his expression a mix of shock and anger, "He said what?! Park Seonghwa, you'd better have a damn good explanation, or I swear I'll knock some sense into you again—"

The private investigator quickly intervened, slapping a hand over the older man's mouth and offering a sheepish smile to you and the general, "Oh gosh, I apologise for him. We'll step outside to give you both some privacy to talk things over."

Once you were alone, your husband sighed heavily before sitting up, stubbornly dismissing your attempt to help him, "Listen, I meant what I said. Perhaps considering Prince Yeosang would be beneficial for you. You want happiness, don't you? You'd find it with a husband who doesn't have to leave, risking his life in wars. Someone who isn't stained with blood, someone who isn't a complete monster. It's for the best."

Your fists clenched as you glared at him, "Who are you to dictate what's best for me, General Park? You said it yourself, I'm my own person now, capable of making my own choices. I can do what I want and love who I want. Shouldn't that be left up to me?"

When he remained silent and continued to avoid your gaze, you pressed on, "And yes, I do want happiness. But how can I find it if I'm not with the man I love?"

At that, you sensed his resolve faltering.

Sighing, you reached over to cover his hand with yours, "There, I've said it. I love you, you moron. I don't want anyone else but you. Why is that so hard to understand? I don't care about what you've done to those people who call themselves my family; they deserved it, and I've forgiven you for it. I just... all I wanted was the truth and an apology from you. Instead, all you've given me were hurtful words. But I understand now. You were just scared, weren't you?"

Your heart fell when he still refused to meet your gaze, "Or was I mistaken? Did you truly mean what you said, wanting me gone?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his tight jaw, a clear sign of his restraint, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me then. If you can do that, I'll go as you wish."

Finally, he turned to meet your gaze, his eyes pleading, almost begging you not to push him. You couldn't comprehend his stubbornness; was it just his pride getting in the way? With a defeated nod, you relented, "I understand. You must truly want me to leave and be with His Highness. I suppose there's no point in staying where I'm not wanted. Goodbye, General Park."

Just as you began to pull your hand away and rise from your seat, he surprised you by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. His whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine, "No, I'm sorry... You're right; I didn't mean any of what I said. I love you too, my wife. Please don't go."

With a tired exhale, you melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as you buried your face against his shoulder. Each comforting squeeze seemed to ease the heartache you had been carrying, restoring a sense of wholeness within you. This was where you belonged, in his arms.

"You're such an idiot, you know that?" You murmured softly.

He chuckled against your neck, his breath tickling your skin, "I suppose I am." He admitted with a hint of amusement.

"About damn time you realised it, Park Seonghwa. I've been telling you for years. Disrespect your wife like that again, and I'll make you regret it—" Hongjoong's voice cut through the room as he burst in, followed closely by Wooyoung and Jongho, prompting laughter from you as your husband pulled you closer, using you as a shield.

"Please, he just regained consciousness!" The assistant interjected, defending his master despite earning a stern glare from the dressmaker. Deep down, however, everyone knew Hongjoong couldn't have been happier to see his friend alright.

« Preview of Part 19 »

In the warzone, Mingi paced anxiously, his mind consumed with worry for the general's well-being. It had been only two days since he dispatched the messenger to deliver his urgent letter to Yunho. He could only pray that Seonghwa had made it home safely and that his message had managed to reach the physician in time.

Despite his concerns, the strategist forced himself to focus on the immediate tasks at hand. He delved into refining his current strategies and devising new contingency plans for any potential scenarios that might arise before his superior's return.

Before long, a breathless soldier burst into the main tent with urgent news, rambling away in a panic, "Bad news, Officer Song! We were on standby at the border when..."

Mingi placed a reassuring hand on the soldier's shoulder, "Woah, breathe. Calm down and tell me what you saw."

After composing himself, the soldier continued, "Sir, Ruhon soldiers have been sighted approaching once again!"

Oh, crap.

He struggled to understand why this was happening. General Park had defeated most of the enemy forces in the last battle. Where could Ruhon possibly be sourcing this new influx of soldiers from? With the general absent, the strategist knew he would have to take command of the army despite his lack of recent battlefield experience.

But there was no other choice.

I hope you're happy with the outcome HAHA y'all, it's hilarious how accustomed I've grown to writing angst for this story that it felt incredibly weird to write a happy scene. Only two parts left, yippee!

As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[impuls1veworm]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ Prompt: typical jealous ex-husband behavior.

"Go ahead, ask for her number," came a teasing voicing from behind her; one (y/n) knew all too well. The arrogant yet handsome visage of her ex-husband came into view. Despite it being 6 months since (y/n) has last seen him, he still looked the same as the day they finalized the divorce. Hair neatly styled, suit fitted perfectly, and a calm demeanor. (Y/N) hated to admit it, but he looked good.

The poor waiter was caught off guard by the request, choosing instead to fall silent. (Y/N) looked away from her ex-husband to address the waiter, "ignore him, ple—"

"No, ask for her number. She'll give it to you," his stern, yet amused tone interjected. (Y/N) couldn't help the irritated breath of air she let out through her nose. The waiter, unsure, yet not wanting to cause a further scene, hesitantly asked for (y/n)'s number. (Y/N) grabbed a pen from her purse and hurriedly scribbled her number on the napkin beside her plate.

Her ex watched over her shoulder as she wrote the number, turning to giving the waiter a pleased smile, "don't worry, that's really her number." (Y/N) handed the waiter the napkin and sent him on his way. Her ex watched the man walk away before turning back to (Y/N). Placing a hand on her shoulder, he leaned down, his lips gently brushing her ear, "front door. 10 minutes."

(Y/N) made herself comfortable in the living room she once considered her own. Her ex-husband stood in front of her, peering down at her with an unreadable look on his face. (Y/N) was about to question why her ex-husband insisted she came back to their old home when her phone began to light up. (Y/N) looked at her phone to see an unknown number calling.

The waiter.

"Answer it," came the demanding tone of her ex. Still, (Y/N) lingered above the green button, unsure of if it was the right move. Impatiently, he grabbed the phone from her hand and answered it for her. As the waiter's hello's filtered through the speaker, her ex flung the phone onto the couch beside (Y/N). Leaning down to capture her lips in a heated kiss, the other man's voice was quickly drowned out by sighs of pleasure.

Ran, Mikey, Sanzu, Taiju, Takeomi, Izana, Kazutora, Baji, and Chifuyu — TokyoRev

Gojo, Geto, Toji, and Sukuna — Jujutsu Kaisen

[lovesickeros]

☆ glimpse of divinity

{☆} characters lyney, neuvillette [ separate ] {☆} notes cult au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 0.8k

× neuvillette

The first time he sees you strolling the streets of Fontaine with a glint of wonder in your eyes, he thinks he must have finally lost it. He has to rub his eyes and check a few dozen times before he's certain that you are, in fact, real and not some figment of his imagination conjured by a lack of sleep and overdose on caffeine.

..Though now that he gets a better look, it's not quite the same. Like a smudged painting, he thinks. Still, the uncanny resemblance to the visage of the Divine One has him lingering around the area just to stare a little longer, a deep, devoted sense of affection bristling beneath his skin.

And then you turn sharply on your heel, staring directly back at him, and he feels a sudden wave of embarrassment and something akin to shame.

Archons, he'd just made a fool of himself, hadn't he?

He quickly turns away, clearing his throat and hiding his embarrassment behind his hand. Though it does not seem to deter you, the soft tap of your shoes growing closer until you were peering up at him with wide eyes.

"..Hello." He offers awkwardly, a little too stiff and a little too formal, but you don't seem to mind in the slightest. He knows that your appearance, your vague similarities to the Divine One are mere coincidence, but it does not stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile up at him. "I– apologize for being so uncouth and staring, it's just.."

His voice trails off into a breathy exhale, his hand twitching on his cane as if he wanted to reach out and touch you..but he restrains himself in time. He could not make a bigger fool of himself – he would never hear the end of it from lady Furina.

"You remind me of someone."

He decides, readjusting his hands on his cane as he bows his head for a moment is a show of genuineness, though it must look awkward with how stiff his body feels.

Yet he cannot help but want to get closer anyway, to hear the silky lilt of your voice grace his pointed ears. This is as close as he will ever get to the Divine..he is a weak man, he finds, as he offers a hand to you.

"I understand if this is a bit..forward, but would you mind joining me for tea?"

× lyney

He is a master magician – his entire work is built on keen misdirection and sleight of hand, but even he stumbles for a minute thinking he'd seen an illusion in your warm smile and striking features. Almost an exact copy of the Divine One, yet not quite..

Still, it's enough to pique his interest – enough, too, to give him the confidence to slip into your conversation with ease, all smiles and the slip of a card between his fingers.

"Hello, stranger – I don't think I've seen you in Fontaine before," He laughs, his hand reaching around to rest gently on your opposite shoulder, his voice a ghost of a whisper in your ear. "Say, could I interest you in a bit of magic?"

He perks up at the way you seem to light up like fireworks at his offer, a spark almost like recognition in your eyes he brushes aside – he's quite well known, after all.

"Good! Now, if I may just borrow your attention for a minute.." He grins, stepping around you and turning sharply to face you, his hand outstretched with a deck of cards in his hands, face down. "Let's start simple, shall we? I shan't overwhelm my audience – pick a card."

He holds the cards out again, his features twisted in something like awe, though he hides it well.

His heart flutters at the briefest of glances of your hand against his as you pluck a card from his hand, and he quickly retracts it, reshuffling the deck with a broad grin and a wink.

"Do your best to remember it! If you could return it to the deck.." The card is placed back in it's place amongst the rest, and the magic begins!

"Now then, let's see..hm," He hums for a long moment, the silence filled by the constant shuffle of cards until he suddenly plucks one from the deck, flipping it around for you to see. "Is this your card?"

He frowns when you shake your head, almost pouting, before he lights up again and steps forward.

"Ah! How foolish of me, I missed it..it's riiight here, see." He winks, reaching behind your ear..and pulls free a card from seemingly thin air. He flips it around for you to see again, and when you tell him it is, in fact, your card, he flips it around again.

And before you can see it, he's holding a rainbow rose between his fingers, his hand outstretched as he bows.

His eyes glint with a sort of wonder as he looks at your features, his smile widening a fraction.

"Well, dear stranger? Did you enjoy the show?"

[dragon-ascent]

Hello, how are you ? Since you have open request I’d like to ask something : How do you think our favorite dragon Zhongli will react to his wife being accused of lying because they have corrected an historian on a false fact about Morax ?

Since English isn’t my first language I’m afraid this is not clear, I’m sorry.

Ooh, I like it, here's what I've come up with <3

-----

The tension is palpable and certainly not what you were hoping to land yourself in when you accepted Zhongli's request to be his plus-one aboard the Pearl Galley.

"Forgive me, Mr. Changying, but that's where I'll have to correct you," you tell the stocky man before you. The food and drinks on the table are long-untouched. "Rex Lapis didn't take on such a grand ten-headed and eight-armed form to exterminate those sea creatures. In fact, he personally went door to door to trap them in little Geo contraptions, even having a bit of trouble with the.... particularly wrigglier ones."

Changying's eyes practically roll into the back of his head. "Do you truly believe that rubbish just because that is what's commonly peddled? That the Geo archon, who could raise the mountains and calm the tides without breaking a sweat, found the task of getting rid of tiny sea creatures tedious and challenging?"

Sighing, you say, "Even the gods are subject to being less-than-perfect in their methods. And besides, the damn things were inside people's houses - brute strength would not have been handy at all. Rex Lapis needed to be careful and meticulous so that none of his people were harmed. Hence the Geo cages."

Despite how neatly you'd presented your counterpoint, Changying merely scoffs as he adjusts his glasses. He jabs a finger at you accusingly. "You're lying, just like everyone else," he growls, "and you clearly have no respect for our late archon! Do you even like him?"

Your breath nearly hitches in your throat as you gaze up at him in shock. "Ex...excuse me?"

The man pulls no punches as he continues his rant against you. "How can you so blindly believe what the masses think? Maybe if you were a real Rex Lapis follower like me, you would learn some critical thinking skills and draw more accurate conclusions!"

"I'm afraid I am on the side of my partner here, Mr. Changying," cuts in Zhongli, placing an arm on your shoulder. Relief floods your veins as you let out the breath you'd been holding. "They are correct in explaining that Rex Lapis had to go the simplistic route when dealing with Liyue's sea creature infestation."

Changying's eyes grow wide. "Forgive me, Mr. Zhongli," he murmurs, and you're not ignorant to the way his tone mellows out and becomes more respectful as he continues to speak. "I didn't know you were also in agreement of that story. But let me explain why he likely-"

"It is alright for you to have your own interpretations of events, especially for a being with an expansive history that is always being debated over," says Zhongli calmly, poised as always, "but when these interpretations are unrealistic and you still try to present them as fact...while belittling other people, no less...the line must be drawn somewhere, yes?"

Changying blanches, stammering, "Er, but don't you think Rex Lapis would appreciate deviating thought processes more, especially when..."

Zhongli's eyes narrow ever so slightly, his visage still calm as a pond. "Perhaps so, but what he would not appreciate is his people trying to one-up others in an attempt to prove they are his most loyal followers." Your husband glances at you. "I know my partner well, and they love Rex Lapis dearly. Not only do you accuse them of lying, you also undermine the love they hold for the deity."

His hand brushes against yours and he interlaces his fingers with you, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You smile softly.

Changying scrambles for words, useless excuses and explanations that hardly justify him being on his high horse.

Zhongli, unamused, fires his parting shot. "Far be it for an ordinary man like myself to tell you what to do, but here is some advice: gather reliable citations for your claims, provide succinct evidence, and be respectful of those with opposing views, and perhaps then Rex Lapis would consider you a favorite of his."

With that, Zhongli escorts you away from the scene, knowing full well you will always be his favorite by far - the approving smile he gives you conveys that perfectly.

[cozage]

Hello dear writer, can I request Shanks and other charas getting a new perfume for the reader because they think it smells nice and would suit their beloved so they'll spray a little on themself and when the reader smells it they would think that they were cheating on them

Characters: gn x Shanks, Sanji, Ace Cw: miscommunication Total word count: 2.5k

New Perfume

Shanks

You noticed it the moment he stepped on the ship. Perfume. A kind that didn’t belong to you. You had to admit, it smelled nice. And it certainly wasn’t cheap. Lavender used to be your favorite scent, but now all it was doing was making your stomach churn. 

Whoever Shanks smelled like certainly lived a high dollar life. You shouldn’t have been jealous; you knew that. You had no reason to be. You and Shanks had never talked about being exclusive. If you wanted him to be only yours, all you had to do was ask. But you hadn’t asked him. So he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. 

You wanted to ignore it. You wanted to act like it didn’t bother you in the slightest. But everytime the wind shifted and you got a whiff of that light lavender scent, your stomach knotted into a ball the size of your fist. You hated being jealous of someone who was already a distant memory to Shanks, someone who had already been left behind on the last island, but somehow that made it worse. 

You stared out at the island growing smaller behind you, trying to get your mind off of whoever the perfume belonged to when strong arms wrapped around you from behind, and the sickening smell of lavender flooded your nose. You couldn’t help but tense against him being so close. The smell of him and the lavender perfume went together so well. 

“You okay?” Your captain hummed in your ear. 

“Fine,” you responded, trying to act normal. 

“You sure?” He rested his chin on your shoulder, trying to get you to look at him. 

But you knew if you looked him in the eyes, he would see your pain. So you kept your eyes fixed on the horizon instead, trying to remain as casual as possible. 

“Something’s bothering you,” he observed. His fingers danced along your sides, causing you to flinch from his tickling. 

“Shanks,” was all you had time to breathe out before his fingers dug into your skin playfully, and you let out a fit of giggles. You tried to pull away from him, but he held you tight and didn’t let up. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he cooed to you, turning you around to face him. He stopped his tickling assault, but he wrapped his arms around you so you couldn’t escape. 

“It’s nothing,” you lied. Your eyes stayed downcast, trying to avoid his gaze. 

He hummed disapprovingly, frowning at your visage. “Well I’ve got something to cheer you up. Wanna see?”

You finally peeked up at him, curious about what he was going to offer you. He had that stupid grin plastered across his face, and your heart skipped a beat. Shanks could make you weak in the knees just from a look. You hated and loved it at the same time. 

“Come on.” He intertwined his hand with your and pulled you along, heading for the bunkhouses. 

After a few steps, you pulled your hand away, but kept walking next to him. Shanks shot you a worried look, but you pretended not to see it. You rubbed your wrist, trying to act normal, but Shanks knew something was wrong. You hated that you were being like this. It wasn’t fair to him, and you knew that. But you couldn’t help feeling hurt, even if you had no reason to be. 

He quickly opened the door to his quarters and stepped to the side to allow you to enter. You walked inside and looked around, trying to find any hints of another person being in his room. But everything was how you had left it this morning, and you breathed a slight sigh of relief. At least whatever had taken place hadn’t happened in his bed. There was some consolation in that. 

Shanks picked up a little brown bag and handed it out to you. “For you,” he said. 

You hesitantly took it, and opened it to peek inside. There was a beautiful glass bottle filled with purple liquid. Your heart sank. 

“Perfume?” you asked him. 

“Try it,” he urged. 

You already knew what it was going to smell like, but you opened the jar and lightly inhaled. It really was a lovely smell. 

“I thought I smelled this on you earlier.” You tried to keep any cynicism out of your voice, replacing it with inquisition. 

“Oh yeah!” Shanks said, holding out his arm to you. “I tried a bit earlier at the store to see how it smelled, and all I could think of was how good it would smell on you.”

You pressed your nose to his wrist, smelling the concentrated perfume in the area he indicated. He had been shopping for you. The perfume you smelled on him was yours, or at least that was his intention. There had never been another person. 

“You okay?” Shanks asked, looking at you with concern. 

“This is for me,” you clarified. “And you found it in a shop?”

“Yeah,” he said, a confused look on your face. “I thought you liked lavender. What’s going on?”

“No, I just-” you paused, blushing at the embarrassment you were about to cause yourself. “I love it. But I thought the smell…came from someone else.”

Shanks took a moment to process your words for a moment and then laughed.

“Oh darling, don’t you know?” He lightly kissed the tip of your nose, smiling against your skin. “You’re the only one for me.”

Sanji

“My love!!” Sanji called, the door slamming open behind you.

You turned from your desk to see him, a smile spreading across your face. You and Sanji usually parted ways during island days, and today hadn’t been an exception. But you had missed being around him, even if it was only for a few hours. 

“Sanji! You’re back!”

He set a bag on the table and bounded toward you, enveloping you in a big hug. That’s when you smelled it. The hint of vanilla wouldn’t have been so out of place if it hadn’t been paired with a strong lilac smell.

Your stomach sank. Sanji was a man who loved to admire everyone, but he tended to keep it under control since the two of you had started dating. You didn’t think he was one to cheat, but you had seen how Sanji got around women in the past. 

You could feel your body tensing in fear and anger. Jealousy coursed through your veins. Why else would he smell like such a strong, lovely perfume if not from someone else rubbing against him. 

“Sanji,” you started, trying to keep your voice level. “Why do you smell like lilac perfume?”

“Do you like it?” he asked, pulling away and grinning at you. 

You tried to keep the fury out of your eyes, but you knew it was futile. When he saw your expression, his face fell. Disappointment flooded his eyes, and a familiar pang hit you in the gut. 

“I can return it, if you want,” he offered. 

Your brow furrowed, staring at him. “Return it?”

He could sense you were angry, that was obvious enough. He scanned your face, trying to figure out what exactly he had done wrong. He had been certain this perfume would suit you well, but now he was worried you were offended at his implication.

“The perfume. I can return it if you don’t like it.”

“What perfume? The one that you’re smothered in right now?” You couldn’t keep the venom out of your voice this time, and Sanji flinched at the harshness of your words. 

He blinked at you, trying to comprehend where your sudden burst of anger had come from. He put his wrist to his nose and sniffed, lilac with a hint of vanilla. 

“Do you mean this?” He held his wrist out for you to smell, the lilac so strong it made you sick.

“I don’t want to smell whoever was all over you, Sanji!” you snapped, slapping away his hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“But the lady at the perfume shop said it was one of their best sellers.” His voice was thick when he spoke, and confusion was evident in his eyes. “I thought you would like it.”

The pain in his voice gave you a quick moment to analyze his words. The gift bag on the table. Perfume shop. I can return it if you don’t like it.

“The perfume is for me,” you dumbly stated.

“Of course,” Sanji said cautiously, watching you closely. “Who else would it be for, darling?”

You stared blankly at him, not sure how you had gotten it all so wrong. Why had you gone to the worst case scenario? Why had you expected Sanji to hurt you like that? Of course he never would do such a thing. He loved you, and you loved him. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, unable to find the words for anything else. 

He looked at you, his eyes full of concern. “Sorry for what, my love? Is everything okay?”

“I thought…” your eyes drifted over to the bag on the table. “I thought the smell was from someone else.”

Sanji’s curly brows creased, not understanding your implications. “Someone else?” he questioned. 

“I thought you were with someone else.” Your gaze moved back to his eyes, hoping he could see the regret in your expression. 

“Someone…else…” It took him a moment to understand your implication. His eyes widened in understanding. “No! No, I would never-”

“I know,” you cut him off. “I’m so sorry I thought for even a second that you would.”

Sanji pulled you into a hug again, holding you close to him. The smell of lilac and vanilla was much more comforting now. You noticed that it mixed wonderfully with his natural scent of clove and ginger. 

“I really like the perfume, by the way,” you mumbled into his chest. “It’s perfect.”

He squeezed you tighter in response, pleased that his shopping trip was a success. 

Ace

You and Ace had always been casual, but you had been unspokenly exclusive.  You bought gifts for each other and spent the days by his side and slept in the same bed. You were together in every sense except a spoken one. He was yours, and you were his. 

Everyone on the ship knew it, but island days were a different story. Bars and clubs came with strangers who were always curious about pirates, especially attractive ones. You got insanely jealous when he flirted with the locals, and he was protective whenever islanders tried to make a move on you. Normally you all stuck together to deter the unwanted attention, but Ace had asked to go off on his own today. 

When he sat next to you in the dining hall, you understood why. The smell of a sweet cherry medley came off his body, and your stomach churned. Ace wasn’t the kind of person to wear perfume, especially not something as sweet as that scent.

“Smells like you were busy today,” you noted, unable to keep the hint of hostility out of your voice. 

“Very.” He either ignored your tone or was oblivious to it. He grabbed his fork and dug into his food, practically inhaling it all before speaking again. “I wanna show you something later.”

“Not interested,” you grumbled. You rose from your seat next to him and stormed out the door, sulking back to your bedroom. 

Unfortunately, you shared a bedroom with Ace, and after a few minutes, he cracked open the door and peeked inside. 

“Can we talk?” he asked in his soft, tender voice. “Or do I need to leave you alone for a bit?”

You sighed and dropped the book you were reading back down on your bed. “We can talk.”

He quickly stepped inside the door and shut it, afraid that if he took too long you might change your mind. 

He sat next to you on the bed nervously, both of you glancing at each other. 

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he finally asked. 

“Look I know we’re not officially together or anything but-”

“What do you mean?” Ace asked, cutting you off. “We are together.”

You stared at him. “Ace,” you laughed nervously, staring at him. “We are not together.”

“We sleep together,” he said, pointing at the bed under you. “We eat together and work on chores together and well…we do everything together.”

“But we're not exclusively together,” you reasoned, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He looked hurt at your comment. “Have you been sleeping with other people? I thought-”

“No!” you rushed to clarify. “I just mean-”

“I haven’t either. So we’re exclusive.”

You were having trouble arguing with his reasoning. You never had any plans to sleep with anybody else. And it didn’t sound like he did either. But that perfume…

You took a breath, deciding it was better to ask than to endlessly contemplate. 

“What’s with the cherry perfume then?”

He stared at you, blinking a few times. You could see the gears in his brain turning, trying to piece together what your question had to do with the current conversation. 

“You mean this cherry perfume?” He picked up a fancy bottle on your bedside table and held it out to you. You hadn’t noticed it there before. It was beautifully made, with a light pink liquid swirling around inside of it. 

“I bought it for you,” he said.

You raised your eyebrow in suspicion. “For me?”

He nodded, squeezing the pump on the side. A mist of liquid came out from the nozzle, and a light cherry scent filled your nostrils. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeper. The scent really was lovely. 

“It’s really nice,” you admitted. 

You could feel Ace relax next to you, happy that you were satisfied with his purchase. “That's why I didn’t want to go shopping with you. I wanted to get you something nice.”

You opened your eyes again to find a blush spreading across Ace’s freckles. He looked embarrassed and timid, a side only you could pull out of him. You planted a quick kiss on his cheek, thankful that you had gotten the mishap cleared up. 

“I love it,” you whispered. 

He smiled sheepishly at you and placed the bottle back on the nightstand. “So are we exclusive now?” he asked. 

His dark eyes stared deeply into your soul, and you felt your heart flutter. You desperately wanted to jump up and down in excitement at his question, but you didn’t want him to know how thrilled you were about his question. 

A cheeky grin appeared across your face. “Are you asking me?” you teased.

His lips pushed out in a pout knowing you were taunting him. He was about to respond with something snarky, but you grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face towards your lips, desperate for a taste of him again. 

His lips were chapped and salty from the sea spray, but you didn’t mind it. When you finally released your mouth from his, he was only able to mumble out a few words before he dove back in for another kiss. 

“I’m all yours, if you’ll have me.”

You couldn’t think of anyone better to belong to.

[bleuside97]

Redemption and Regression

paring: babydaddy!jungkook x exgirlfriend!reader

summary: even after five years there is not escaping of jeon jungkook.

warnings: reader has a four year old child, reader gets kidnapped by jjk, manhandling, harsh words, profanities, a bit of angst,

genre: yandere jungkook

"Hi mommy." A little voice called through the phone call. You hold the phone close to your ear. Relief filled your senses by hearing your son's voice. Looking both ways before crossing the empty street. "Hello mommy's baby." You replied to your son, U-Jin Y/L/N, smiling ear to ear. "How are you liking it at Grandma's house?" You asked the small boy. "I love it here, Grandma has lots of toys for me to play with and she cooked samgyupsal for dinner." You couldn't see him but you can tell that joy evident in his voice. In the background of the phone call the sound of toys clashing together. Clearly, submerged in his fun toys he stopped taking.

Your four year old baby, frequently stays at his grandparents house on nights you have to work overtime. This whole week has been filled with late shifts at the office. You are employed as a journalist, a struggling one if that, you are writing your newest article that could be your breakthrough. A female voice cuts in, "Y/n." "Hello Mom, thank you for taking U-Jin in again, I've been so busy at the office." Walking home from work alone in the dark of the night. Thankfully you're almost at home. Just a few more blocks from it. You walk through the patches of yellow lights given by the street lights, within every kilometer. A gust of wind flies past you and bites your nose and cheeks turning a bright rose color. Your cling onto your light jacket a little tighter with your free hand. It was cold but your pursed nonetheless pulling the hood over your head. Pushing your hands deeper into your jacket's pocket for warmth. You continue to walk to your destination.

"I can't neglect my responsibility as a Grandmother," She dismisses your gratitude, always selfless. You're grateful to have her in your life, the only person you trust right now. You smile gratefully, admitting, "I can't do this alone." Tears well up, clouding your vision. "I'm a struggling single mom, trying to keep my job." A compassionate sigh emanates from the other end of the phone. "Don't give up, Y/n. You've come so far from those so many years ago." Her encouraging words bring a smile to your face. The smile fades as you recall your life before five years ago. Swiftly changing the subject, you attempt to forget about it. "I'll pick up U-Jin tomorrow, it's my day off. See you then, please kiss U-Jin goodnight for me."

You conclude the call quick to tuck it in your purse. A shadow of a figure in the distance. A rather tall figure, with long brunette hair blowing in the wind. He wore a loose-fitting hoodie and baggy jeans. He walks, his gaze locked on the sidewalk ahead, his face obscured by a cap that renders him faceless in the dim light. In the midst of the crowded sidewalk, your shoulders accidentally collide. You're quick to offer an apology, but as you do, the faceless figure slowly turns to face you, and in that instant, you imprint a name on his featureless visage. A surge of instinctive fear jolts through your mind, urging your body into action. Your legs propel you into motion before rational thought can catch up.

In the darkness behind you, an iron grip suddenly clamps onto your arms, imprisoning them against your trembling frame. You instinctively struggle, desperately attempting to wriggle free from his unyielding hold, but he remains an immovable force. As fear courses through your veins, you open your mouth to scream, only to be violently yanked backward, stealing the very breath from your lungs and reducing your scream to a feeble gasp.

His fingers constrict around your waist and throat, the world narrowing to the thunderous pounding of your heart in your ears and the veins throbbing visibly in your throat. Panic surges within you, tears welling up in your eyes. Amidst the chaotic moment, your vision is reduced to a blur of blinding car headlights, the whizzing of the street, and a fraction of a car door frame as you're forcibly thrust into the passenger-side seat. Desperation fuels your efforts as you claw your nails against his arm, a frantic struggle to break free.

Having cornered you within the confines of the vehicle, your assailant steps back, allowing you a fleeting glimpse. Through your disheveled hair, the darkness, and the tears clouding your vision, you discern little more than the silhouette of a man. His head abruptly swivels in your direction, his hand lunging forward, and a noxious cloth slaps onto your face.

In your frantic struggle with all your might, you toss your head back, a desperate bid to evade him, your instincts screaming about the consequences of failure. You were forcibly shoved into the car, an unsettling sense of déjà vu washed over you, and you could have sworn that your faceless assailant wore a hauntingly familiar, triumphant grin. A haunting warning chills your soul, "I warned you, y/n, from the moment you left me, I told you I will always find you." The world dissolves into darkness as he steps back, sealing your fate with a resounding slam of the car door. Rendering you unconscious.

(Transition)

A cold shiver danced down your spine, and the chill of damp concrete beneath your scent a jolt of discomfort through her frail frame. Panic began to claw at the edges of your consciousness as her memory reluctantly unveiled the grim truth: she was trapped, imprisoned by the very person she had once called her own.

As her senses gradually sharpened, she became aware of the stale, musty air, tinged with the scent of old wood and mildew. The sound of distant water dripping echoed ominously, punctuating the silence that enveloped her. Her hands, trembling as she explored her immediate surroundings, brushed against rough walls and the coarse surface of a cot, revealing the stark minimalism of her prison. With every fleeting moment, the dreadful awareness of her predicament grew more poignant. Memories of their tumultuous history resurfaced, casting shadows on her thoughts, and the realization dawned that she was now at the mercy of her former captor. Tears welled up in her eyes as she grappled with the agonizing helplessness of her situation.

Amidst the dimly lit basement's gloom, your eyes gradually adjusted to the obscurity, revealing the harsh reality of her situation. As her disoriented senses sharpened, she could make out a silhouette lurking in the shadows. Her heart raced, and a tremor coursed through her frail form as the figure gradually materialized before her.

a/n: it's been a minute bro ik i said that i was going to post like five days a week naaa that was a lie. it's not that easy im currently in school and im tired and doing work all the time. im exhausted but ima try to post once a week. i will try. anyways, im still on my yandere shit and i have way more coming up. i really this one and i think it's a cool story. please let me know your feedback please this is only the first part of the story and i don't want this to flop 😭 please don't make it flop I beg! i really worked hard on it it took me days to do!! there's gonna be two more chapters and smut would be included in the next chapter so...

[elizadoll]

Coven's Corner Antique Shop: Portrait

CW: Dolls, Witches, Mild themes of hypnosis, mild themes of transformation, Stillness

Moving her hat away from her eyes, Eleanor turned her gaze up at the large, wooden sign that sat atop the old-looking building that sat in front of her. "Coven's Corner Antiques" it read in a curvy font, the letters painted in a bright shade of red, with floral details in yellows and oranges surrounding them. The sign was clearly much younger than the building it was attached to, a fresh coat of paint without any signs of damage, while the roof it sat on was visibly worn by many a winter, the tiles discolored and cracked with age.

She'd seen this place before, but it certainly hadn't been an antique shop last she'd been in this part of town. These weren't the kind of businesses to just pop out of nowhere, but Eleanor figured it was likely just a change in locations or something. One thing was for certain though, and it was that she could sense the magic positively radiating off of the building, though that was perhaps expected, given the name.

Eleanor stepped inside, her arrival announced to the building by the sound of a chime strung up near the corner of the door. Just behind a counter nearby, she caught sight of a doll perking up and turning towards the door, offering a friendly wave.

"Hello there!" It chirped in a cheerful tone, a slight squeak to its voice that only rather old dolls seemed to possess, though its exterior did not betray its age, well-polished as it was. "Welcome to Coven's Corner! One's name is Trinket! Could it be of assistance?"

"Yes, actually." Eleanor nodded. "I'm looking for a painting or decoration to put up on my wall. Something seasonal for spring, I suppose."

Without missing a beat, Trinket turned and pointed down a hall to the left. "Miss and Miss keep all the wall thingies over there," it said.

"Thank you," Eleanor replied, heading for the hall.

"Have fun!" Trinket cheered. Eleanor didn't turn back to look at it, but she could hear from the faint squeaking noise behind her Trinket was waving to her as she left.

True to Trinket's instruction, Eleanor soon found herself in a corner of the store that was dedicated entirely towards wall decor. Most of it was paintings, unsurprisingly, but there was some wall art, a few mirrors, and the regrettable sight of a "live, laugh, love" sign tucked away, just barely visible behind a model anchor.

Many of the items possessed traces of magic, more than would be present if they were simply handled by witches, but for her part, Eleanor couldn't sense anything malevolent among the lot, so she didn't pay it terribly much mind. She could always dispel any enchantments on anything she purchased anyway, so it wasn't a massive deal.

Unfortunately for her, nothing really jumped out at her at first glance, and while there were a couple paintings of farms and meadows that could definitely fly as "spring-y," none of them held Eleanor's attention for very long. Eleanor began to dig through the assortment of decorations, but still, nothing quite seemed to stand out.

Eventually, though, she did manage to find something that seemed worthwhile. While examining a mirror, she happened to notice that it seemed to be hung over another piece of decor and, feeling rather curious, she pulled the mirror off the wall to take a look at what was underneath.

Immediately, Eleanor was enraptured with what she found. It was an oval-shaped oil portrait of a doll, a tender smile on its lips, wearing a simple black dress that matched its long, wavy hair. It was a simple painting, but something about it spoke to Eleanor, that touched her very soul.

The moment she set eyes upon the visage of the doll in the painting, Eleanor was overtaken by a sense of utter serenity. She felt the tension in her shoulders fade away, and her arms felt to her sides. Her breathing slowed, and any sense of frustration she'd had with her unsuccessful search for a wall decoration was gone.

In an instant, the painting consumed Eleanor's thoughts. Not so much the image on the canvas itself, but merely its calming, tranquil presence. Eleanor's worries and ails felt so distance she could hardly recall what they were. Pure bliss overtook her as she stood there, staring, simply enamored with the feeling of true peace it bestowed upon her.

What a lovely, lovely painting. What a lovely, lovely feeling...

...

...

...

Eleanor blinked, and all at once, she found herself thrust back into the moment. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head, puzzled as to why she felt oddly well-rested. Confused, she narrowed her eyes, taking a closer look at what was in front of her. Oh right, the painting. Something felt off, though. Eleanor pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time.

7:24 PM

No, that couldn't be right. She'd come to the store at what? Noon at the latest? How was it half past seven in the afternoon? That made no sense. Unless... Again, Eleanor took a closer look at the painting, focusing on it harder than before. That's when she sensed the reality of what it was.

Feeling more than a little upset, not only with her own foolishness for falling for it, but at the owners' recklessness for putting a cursed item on sale, Eleanor grabbed the painting off the wall and marched back toward the front desk.

"Hello, hello!" Trinket greeted her, a smile on its fate. "Finally found something you'd like to take home?"

Eleanor shook her head. "Not so much as I'd like to inform you this painting is cursed. Your misses really ought to keep a better track of what the put on sale."

"Oh, this one..." Trinket took the painting in its hands, tilting it from side to side and looking at it closely. "So that's why you were staring at it for so long."

"Pardon?" Eleanor tilted her head. Had this doll really seen her so entranced and not done anything about it?

"Yes!" Trinket confirmed. "It's so sorry, but you looked to happy in Stillness it didn't want to interrupt!"

"You..." Eleanor sighed with frustration, folding her arms. "I suppose it's lucky I caught it when I did, then. If someone with a little less... personhood was transfixed by this thing and you didn't interrupt them, they might've just Become right then and there."

Trinket's eyes widened. "You're right! Goodness, that was a really close call. Miss and Miss and Miss and Miss would not have been happy about that, not one bit... Miss might approve though..." It briefly lost itself in thought, before glancing back over to Eleanor and seemingly remembering it was in the middle of a conversation. "But anyways! Thank you for bringing this cursed item to this one's attention."

Eleanor grit her teeth a bit, but was forced to ultimately accept that yelling at the doll wouldn't solve anything. "You're welcome. Please bring it to your Misses' attentions. I'll be leaving now."

"Awwwh, okay." Trinket dropped its head for just a moment before perking right back up. "Oh, before you go! Can it ask a question?"

If it were a human asking, Eleanor would've said no... but she had a soft spot for dolls. "What is it?"

"Did you enjoy it, at least? Stillness, it means."

"It..." Eleanor hesitated. Though she didn't want to admit it... it was far from the worst feeling in the world. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you came so close to Becoming, you know. One was just curious."

Eleanor felt a jolt in her chest as if her heart had stopped. "I what?"

"You were suuuper close to Becoming, this one thinks! It was a good thing you woke up when you did!"

Mildly panicked, Eleanor quickly got to inspecting herself for any changes. True enough, her skin had become unnaturally smooth, and come to think of it, she certainly did feel a tad shorter. Alright, so, she had nearly Become in the middle of an antique shop. That sure was something, alright.

"Uhm... are you okay?" Trinket tilted its head.

"I-I'm fine," Eleanor lied. "I'll be going now, that's all." She began for the door, more than a little flustered. Had she really come so close? What did that say about her?

"Okay!" Trinket sang. "Oh, wait! Don't forget your painting first!" It held out an oval-shaped object with a cloth draped over it.

Eleanor raised a quizzical eyebrow, still rather disoriented from what Trinket had said to her. "I... didn't buy a painting?"

Trinket thrusted the painting forward. "Consider it on the house! For finding the cursed object!"

With a touch of caution, Eleanor took the painting out of Trinket's hands. "O-oh. Well, thank you."

"Thank you!" Trinket insisted. "See you later!"

"Right. I'll be seeing you."

Eleanor made her way out of the shop and back out onto the road and turned to head back home. On her way, she contemplated the weight of the painting in her hands, and as she did, found a tingle of warmth and serenity somehow radiating from it under the cloth. She knew just the spot she'd hang it up.

[arc-misadventures]

What are Those?! AU: jaune mybe the only dragon faunus in the arc family but just because they don't have the features of a dragon does not mean those humans in the arc family do not have the heart and soul [[ and temper and Sadistic streek ]]of one,

Jacques Schnee finds this out the hard way when he tries to get jaune thrown in jail under false charges so he can take over jaunes business, Jacques Schnee is made an example to the rest of remnant on WHY YA DON'T PISS OFF THE ARC FAMILY

To Shreds You Say?

The tired slowly awoke from its slumber as it heard the soft repetition of several chimes that was its alarm clock. Or, in this case, it was, Jaune Arc’s tone.

The soon to be crowned dragon king rose from his bed, and grabbed his scroll, and register two things: That it was 3:27 in the morning. And, that his father was the one calling him at such an ungodly hour.

Jaune: Yeah…?

The weariness was palpable upon, Jaune’s voice as he yawned. He could see the handsome visage of his father, Acheius Arc staring back at him.

Acheius: ‘Yeah?’ That’s all your pops gets after not seeing him for so long. Not even a ‘hello dad?’

Jaune: Hellos are reserved for those who do not disturb the dead such as you have…

His father gave a short laugh at his comment. He knew his father was just teasing him, but nobody liked being woken up in the middle of the night.

It often meant something unexpected, and unwelcome had happened.

Acheius: See you finally ditched the onesie. About time you grew out of wearing that.

Jaune looked down to see he was bare chested. While he had stopped wearing, the reasons he hadn’t were nothing to do with his father’s words. Mostly.

Jaune: I would still be wearing it dad, but I ‘literally’ grew out of it. That, and I think one of my girlfriends stole it…

He tapped the ever present, and ever growing horns on his head.

Acheius: Ahh yes, your mother mentioned how you were growing more noticeable faunas traits. I must say horns were not on my bingo…?! Wait, did you say ‘girlfriends?’ As in, more than one?

Jaune: Dad while I understand you want to know what’s going on with my life, we both know you didn’t call me this early in the morning to catch up. What is it?

Jaune rubbed his face trying to wipe away the tiredness from his eyes. He father gave him a look before explaining his reasons for waking him up.

Acheius: It’s about that one of your diamond mines.

Jaune: Which mine?

That woke up, Jaune rather quickly. He turned his eyes to fully address his father as he was about to take in every word he was about to say.

Acheuis: The one at north east tip of, Vacuo: Raiders…

Jaune: Raiders Coast. There’s a diamond, and Dust mine located there, as well as a small town whose population mostly works there. What happened; Cave in, Grimm attack, raiders?

While, Jaune was highly protective of his diamond mines, to the point of fanatical, he cared more about the people working in his mines, than the diamonds themselves. A collapsed mine could be mine once again, and reclaimed. Peoples lives however, could not be so easily reclaimed. At most they could give the bodies of the dead a proper burial.

Acheius: A raid happened. Of sorts that is.

Jaune: Of sorts?

Acheius: A group of bandits attacked the mine. Trying to steal the, Dust, not the diamonds. They never touched your diamond vaults.

Jaune: They only went after the, Dust? Odd… They usually go after my diamonds; they’re easier to steal, and fence. Why only the, Dust though.

Acheius: Because they weren’t your typical, ‘raiders.’

Jaune: Explain.

Acheius: They were too organized, and disciplined to be your usual raiders. Not to mention all of them basically carried the same type of equipment: From weapons, to uniforms, to gear. Practically all identical.

Jaune: Identical…? Hmmm…

Jaune racked his mind as he pondered this information. A well organized, armed, and disciplined militia. That was an interesting tidbit of information.

There were dozens of gangs of bandits; large, and small in number strewn all about the desserts of, Vaccuo. But, only a few matched such a description. There was the, Bloody Skulls, they tended to be rather uniform in their appearance. There was the Dune Raiders, they had a lot of standardized equipment under their belts. The Scorpions were another, who followed this same rule, but their members tended to be branded with scorpion tattoos, and if it was one of them his father would have mentioned it. The Crowns had a habit of attacking his, Dust mines. But, just like the rest, he, and his family had hunted them down to extinction.

But, who ever attacked him only attacked the, Dust mine, not the diamond mine. Which left him with only one culprit left. The one person who would do anything do steal one of his, Dust mines.

Jaune: Jacques…

Acheius: Jacques? As in, Jacques Schnee? You think he is behind this?

Jaune: The bastard has been trying to get a foothold into, Vaccuo’s Dust mines for years, not to mention I am his biggest rival. Him taking one of my, Dust mines by force, and gaining a foothold in, Vaccuo is a two birds one stone scenario for him.

Acheius: Hmm… That makes sense. Luna’s been tracking the money that’s been deposited into their coffers, and she said it came from some company called, ‘Hybrid Enterprises.’ They’re registered as a, Atlasian company. Ring any bells?

Jaune: No, I’ve never heard of that company before.

: That’s because its a dummy corporation.

Jaune: A dummy corporation?

Acheius: I-Is someone with you, Jaune?

Jaune: Uhh…?

Jaune felt an arm wrap around his body as a head rested upon his shoulder. He could feel her bare chest against his back as his face was flush red. Not so much because he had a beautiful woman resting against him, more so because he had beautiful woman resting her body against him, and she was naked, and he was in the middle of a video call with his freaking father!

But, other than that things were okay.

Acheius: And… who are you…?

: My name is, Willow, Willow Schnee. You must be, Jaune’s father. Mr…?

Acheius: Acheius Arc…

Jaune: H-How do you know they’re a dummy corporation, Willow?

Jaune decided to take control of the conversation before it went somewhere he did not want it to go.

Willow: Because my… husband founded it. He uses them for all his shady back room deals: Bribery, stealing, blackmail, threats… various deplorable things such as that.

Acheius: It doesn’t surprise me that, that bastard would have such associates under his payroll. So he must have used this dummy corporation to hire these mercenaries.

Willow: They may not be mercenaries per-say. Tell me, did they have any badges on their uniforms, any iconography?

Acheius: No, their uniforms were clean of such items. But, there was a tattoo of a white raven on one severed arms of one of them, does that ring any bells, Mrs. Schnee?

Willow: Hmmm… White ravens…? Ah! Winter’s Cawl. They’re a private military force that’s under the, quote control of, Hybrid Enterprises. Really its under, Jacques’s control as his personal hitman army.

Jaune: He has an army?!

Willow: No, more than a couple hundred strong militia. But, they are well equipped for a group their size.

Jaune: Damn… I need to speed up the timetable for making my own military force then… Wait, severed? Did you cut off that guys arm dad?

Acheius: Ah no, that wasn’t me.

Jaune: Then who did it?

Acheius: Thiriana did it. A gunshot went off, and accidentally clipped her hair, singeing a bit of it, and… you know how protective of their hair they are.

Jaune: Ahhh… That explains that.

A small shiver of fear ran through his body as, Jaune remembered the hell the female members of his family raised when something happened to their hair.

Twas a horrifying sight to see.

Willow: I assume you left some of these ‘bandits’ alive to be interrogated?

Acheius: I tried to do so… but…

Jaune: What did my sisters do?

Acheius: More so what the bandits attempted to do. Several of them were using some of the miners children as hostages, and well, Thiriana, and Janette went feral.

Jaune: Ahh…

Acheius: Yeah…

Jaune: Were they quick?

Acheius: They weren’t quiet…

Jaune: Bloody hell…

Willow: Are all, Arc woman so violent?

JA: Yes.

Willow: Oh my…

Acheius: Unfortunately, we know who did it, but we don’t have any proof to convict, Jacques of ordering this attack on one of your mines.

Jaune: Dammit…

A low growl escaped his lips as he mulled over this information. They had information to convict, Jacques Schnee to various crimes, but they were all speculative however, easily dismissible in a court of law. One more the bastard would get away with things.

Or, so he thought.

A ringing sound soon went off on his father’s scroll, he quirked an eyebrow at the caller before he answered it.

Acheius: It’s your sister.

Jaune: Which one?

Acheius: Luna. I’ll put her on a combined call.

As he said that, Jaune was met with the sight of his sister, Luna who was looking positively radiant as she gave a pearly smile to the camera.

So long as one ignored all the blood on her face.

Luna: Hi Dad! And, hi, Ja…?! Oh… is… is that Mrs. Schnee. Willow Schnee of SDC draped over your shoulder…

Luna: Naked…?

Willow: I seduced a handsome young man that really, really knows how to show a woman a good time~! There’s nothing else to it.

Luna: S-She seduced you…?!

Jaune: No comment.

Luna: But, how did…?!

Jaune: No. Comment.

Luna: I shoved, Jacques into a cell, and you shoved it into his wife… The fuck is going on…?

Acheius: Wait, what did you say, Luna?

Luna: I uhh… I threw, Jacques into a cell.

JA: …

Willow: And, why is he in a jail cell?

Luna: Tried to bribe me for control of one of, Jaune’s, Dust mines. It was a poor bribe so I told him to shove it up his ass. He didn’t take too kind to that, so he told his ‘associates’ to convince me to ‘accept’ his deal. And, well… Long story short; the main office at the, Kantor Mines needs to be remodelled. And, Jacques Schnee is… currently being pelted with tomatoes as he is suspended ten feet in the air in a cage.

Willow: I see… So, how much do I have to pay for his release?

Luna: Ohh direct hit to the groin…

Jaune: Luna.

Luna: Huw? Oh yeah! Let’s see… Damage to the main office at. Kantor Mine. Shouldn’t be much to pay off. About three thousand Lien.

Acheius: You’re forgetting about all the havoc he caused at, Raiders Coast.

Luna: What happened at, Raiders Coast?

Acheius: You didn’t hear? I thought one of your sisters would have told you. It was attacked by a mercenary gang run by the, SDC.

Luna: Ahh, send me a list of the damages, and I’ll make a list of damage fees to send to, Jacques for him to pay.

Acheius: Alright, I’ll go…?

Willow: A moment if you will.

Acheius: What is it, Mrs. Schnee.

Willow: Why don’t you have, Jacques pay off the damages he has committed with some good old… manual labour~?

Jaune: You want him to work off his debt?

Willow: Indeed. The crimes he committed shouldn’t be simply payed off with money, they should be payed off with hard, back breaking labour.

Luna: But, his bill will be in the thousands, possibly the tens of thousands?!

Willow: So he will be working at this debt for years to come? Oh, what a shame.

Acheius: …

Luna: …

Acheius: Okay.

Luna: Seems reasonable.

Acheius: We still have to let, Atlas know that we have him in our custody.

Willow: And, tell them the SDC is doing everything in its power to get his… eventual release. Somewhere between six months to a year.

Luna: Okay, I can do that. Anything else I should tell him?

Willow: No, now if you’ll excuse me, I just got a rather invigorating second wind~!

Jaune: Second wind? What are you… Ahh?!

And, with in his question, Jaune yelped in alarm as he felt a beautiful lady’s hand descend lower to grab something particularly long, and hard in her hand.

Jaune: I-Igottagonowguys.Bye!

And, with that the call was cut on, Jaune’s wnd leaving the father daughter duo to look at each other with bewildered expressions across their faces.

Luna: Uhh… what just happened?

Acheius: I don’t… oh… Oh that’s what happened…

Luna: What happened?

Acheius: Quite simple. Learning that her husband is now in jail, giving, Willow time to take back her company has left her in a euphoric state of mind.

Luna: Oh, good for her. Getting rid of that bastard will do wonders for the world!

Acheius: Luna. She got off to the fact her husband is in jail, and wants to sleep with your brother again…

Luna: Dad, I fucking know that, I just didn’t want to think about my brother sleeping with a woman!

Acheius: Oh…

Acheius: Yeah, I don’t want to think about, Jaune sleeping with a woman your mothers age either.

Luna: The fuck did you have to say THAT?!!

Acheius: Whoops…

[tonkatsubowl]

Can I request something like Yan!Sunday with an innocent/naive reader? Maybe something that includes brainwashing/mindcontrol bc i swear sunday is not normal

(only if you want to do this req ofc!)

you decided to visit the shopping center of penacony to buy a few things for your significant other. you had a few dinner ideas in mind, and because of the stress that piles up from yandere sunday, he sometimes never has time to take you out to a nice place to eat, or even cook you something. you didn't mind that at all, considering you were understanding of his situation.

besides, you didn't know that sunday practically had his eye on you no matter what. every move, every breath you take—he tracked.

as you went through the shopping area, you had a small little basket you carried that already had a few items in it. from vegetables to small ingredients to make dessert... you were humming one of robin's music to yourself as you wandered about, putting things in your little basket.

as you continued to shop, you were approached by a stranger. a man in particular, who seemed to have caught his eye when wandering about, too.

"hey there!" he enthusiastically said, beaming brightly, "how are you doing?"

"oh! hello!" you say with a smile, "i'm doing well. i'm just shopping for dinner right now."

"ah, dinner?" he tilted his head, looking at the items in your basket, "making something for yourself?"

"oh, it's not just for me," you shook your head, "it's for my boyfriend too."

there was a bit of bitterness in the man's eyes, but you didn't seem to notice.

"boyfriend, huh? how about you make me something too?"

you blinked, before sheepishly smiling, shaking your head, "ah, i'm sorry. i could get you a small snack or something... what would you like?"

you were incredibly naïve, and the stranger found it admirable. he approached you a bit closer. "well, you can definitely get me a snack, alright. your boyfriend won't know about it."

you blinked again, head tilted to the side. you weren't sure what he meant but you decided to brush his comment off. "well, um... what would you like? there's chips, and—"

"there you are, my dove."

sunday's voice occurred behind you, his arm gracefully wrapped around your hip. the stranger seemed to have recognized sunday, seeing his face with robin all over the streets of penacony. this man... this man was your significant other?

"oh, sunday!" you smiled innocently.

"what's going on here?" asked-he, looking towards the stranger with darkness apparent in his gaze.

"oh, he was just asking me if i could get a snack for him. since you're here," you looked to the stranger, "my boyfriend knows now!"

sunday didn't have to know the context behind what happened, because he already knew everything. he smiled at the stranger but there was an aura of murderous intent.

the stranger began to sweat, before bowing apologetically. "i-i'm sorry. i'll leave now."

he left in a hurry, leaving you and sunday alone. you blinked out of confusion, before looking to sunday.

"huh? i thought i was gonna buy him some chips or-"

"(y/n)." he says in a low voice. "please, do not do that again."

"do what?" your head tilts.

he slowly reaches up, brushing his hand against the side of your face. digits gently brush against your skin, tracing down across your jawline.

"you see, people here are dangerous in penacony. they approach you for needs, or even something worse... a trap, even." his grip tightens around your face, but you didn't move. he wasn't hurting you.

"i suggest that you stay indoors while i am gone."

you blinked again, confusion evident upon your visage, "stay indoors? at your home?"

sunday nodded. "correct. for your safety, i much prefer that you don't leave at all. that is... if you are okay with it."

there was something about his words that made you feel reluctant, but you understood, thinking that he was just looking out for you. you were lost in his eyes for a moment, as though something within was calling out to him... listening to his words.

"... okay!" you beamed. "when would i get to leave?"

"whenever i think it's safe for you, my dear. whenever i tell you it's okay to leave home, then you'll be able to leave, but only for a short period of time. or when i am with you."

you nodded, "alright, but... short period of time? what do you mean by that?"

sunday gave a low, dangerous chuckle, "you can't be out for too long. i worry for your safety."

"i-i see. alright. i understand, so you don't have to worry about that."

sunday nods, "of course. i'll be right here with you."

for the rest of the hour, you finished your shopping and went home with sunday. however, the moment you entered the vicinity, you didn't realize sunday had locked the doors from the inside. you weren't allowed to leave. no matter what. not until what your boyfriend tells you.

"so, what did you buy?" questioned the halovian.

"i bought some ingredients for dinner! i figured i would make something for the both of us, since you're busy with work and i know how stressful it can get."

sunday's gaze softened as he approached you, pressing his lips against the side of your head. "thank you, love. you didn't have to do all of that."

you laugh, nuzzled into his affection as you placed the ingredients on the counter. "will you be leaving soon? i mean, how did you know i was there?"

"ah, i just had a feeling." a lie. he was watching you. "and i figured i'd come by to grab a small beverage or two on my break, then i saw you."

"oh! perfect timing then."

"now, i should get going. remember what i said, (y/n). you are not to leave."

you nodded, smiling brightly at him. "i won't!"

a look of satisfaction appears on the man's face before he disappears into the hallway, the doors closing behind him, ultimately leaving you alone.

[yallmakemyassitch]

Scratch Task

Summary: Tabi had gotten sick of Agoti slick and slimy ways of sneakily tickling him, so it was about time he retained some comeuppance and taught the poor boy a lesson~! ^⁠_⁠^

Word count: 5133

Character count: 29277

Tobi talks: Well hello again to all you lovely fellas, I'm here with something special for you lot! As you know, I'm on hiatus due to school and personal life stuff and that won't change for the foreseeable future. I had this cute idea to redraw one of Sensey's art pieces as I think the position they're in and how Tabi is pinning Agoti is downright hilarious and downright devious! But I wouldn't be doing it any justice without writing something about it, after all, you just gotta appreciate her creativity (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55564837

Enjoy the story, gooday you lovely people and have a great day y’all! 🩷(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

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“T-Tabi! C-c’mon man, I’m serious!” Agoti shrieked, his feet propelling him as fast as they could away from his pursuing friend, who was quickly gaining on him. Tabi lunged at him again, but the digidevil managed to dodge just in the nick of time. He stumbled and fell hard onto the ground, giving his friend an extra jumpstart in the chase.

“Agoti! Get back here!” The goat-man yelled after him, quickly getting up and running after him, a fresh dose of adrenaline pumping in his veins. The digidevil’s heart raced and his thundering footsteps quickened.

Fear was an understatement to what he was feeling, with his teeth gritted and eyebrows knitted into a panicked visage, one would think he had encountered death himself.

He might as well have anyway. Agoti had pushed Tabi too far and as a consequence, turned the Russian man into an unstoppable force of nature. No matter how much or how far he ran, Tabi was always right around the corner.

In this moment of reflection, the digidevil realized he couldn’t hear Tabi’s footsteps anymore and slowed down before eventually stopping. His labored lungs were on fire and burned with every breath he tried to reclaim.

Agoti grasped his knees and hunched over, feeling his forehead drip with sweat onto the pavement. Agoti swallowed a spitball. “Oh god…” He gasped. How long had he been running? 10, maybe 15 minutes of just sprinting? He signed and stood up straight, stretching his back and his arms.

He didn’t feel safe in the area they were in, Tabi was known to be an excellent ambusher, so it would be best if he moved somewhere he couldn’t find him.

Just as he was going to head off, he heard a strange sound. The digidevil turned back around, now even more nervous, and just as he was about to whip around to run away, he heard Tabi’s dreaded voice coming from right behind him.

“Found you,” Tabi whispered in his ear.

Then his world flipped upside down, feeling a swift and strong force sweep his ankles from underneath him. Agoti couldn’t even comprehend what had happened until he landed hard on his chest. Panic soon set in when he felt someone heavy sit on his back and grab his wrist.

“Tabi! Please no!” The demon shrieked with terror, realizing the extent of his situation. “Too late for excuses, Agoti.” The Russian man hummed calmly above him.

Agoti was fast and agile, but Tabi was stronger and heavier than him, so pinning the digidevil was an easy feat. Tabi twisted his dominant arm behind his back and pinned it on the center of his back with the firm grip of his hand and pushed all his weight into the grip.

As expected, Agoti began to thrash and squirm, attempting to forcefully dismount the man off his back. A horrifying revelation came when he realized Tabi was sitting rather close to his rear, which made the prospect of slithering his tail out to defend himself impossible.

The Russian man watched as the digidevil fruitlessly kicked his legs and waved around his other arm, hell, his kicks would land on his back sometimes, but Tabi was stocky enough to handle it.

The digidevil tuckered out, realizing that his method of escape wasn’t working, and relaxed his muscles.

“Are you done?” The invisible man asked with an arch of his eyebrow.

“Y-yeah…” Agoti grumbled begrudgingly.

“Good, now then…” Tabi, with his free hand, pinched his friend’s right side. “Let's talk.”

The demon flinched and quietly squeaked. Oh god. Oh god no.

Tabi couldn’t see his face at his angle but could tell the digidevil was very nervous. He couldn’t help but grin and chuckle to himself. “Oh Agoti, Agoti…” He shook his head.

Agoti tensed when he felt his bony finger slowly trace up and down his side. “I have to ask you something,” Tabi exclaimed, his voice now much more casual and amused than before.

“Y-yeah?” God damn, he almost giggled a bit.

Tabi leaned over to where his bony snout would be right next to his ear. “Are you ticklish?” This time, his tone was dripping with mischief. His index finger began to quickly wiggle into his side, traveling up and down the sensitive area.

Tabi watched Agoti’s reaction carefully, his lower jaw appearing to complete his already menacing expression.

“N-noho…” Agoti hissed through clenched teeth, contradicted by a wild, silly smile beginning to spread across his lips.

The Russian huffed. “Well that’s good, otherwise what I’m about to do would really suck.”

“Huh- wait, ta-TAHahaHAhABI!” Agoti squealed. He resumed his squirming, his side’s nerves stimulated and sending all kinds of ticklish shocks up his torso. The hand that was previously tweaking his side was energetically digging into the tender flesh.

“Hmph. Liar.” Tabi quietly huffed, beginning to knead into the flesh with his fingertips, causing Agoti to attempt to twist his free arm around to grab his wrist, but the awkward angle he was pinned at made it difficult.

Tabi easily brushed him off and continued with the torture. “PLEHEHEASE, I- I caHAHAN’T!”

“Oh, yes you can. We haven’t even made it to your worst spot yet.” The entire sentence he just uttered not only sent chills down his spine but he managed to switch his tone from casual and dismissive to downright despicable.

The digidevil screamed when he felt Tabi’s hand begin to jump around his torso. The goat-man knew the digidevil was ticklish as hell, so putting him in stitches wasn’t difficult. Agoti thrashed from left to right, feeling his hand grab his hip, digging his four fingers into the front while the thumb made devious circles in the back, leaving him cackling like a madman.

This only increased when the Russian’s fingers burrowed into the sweet spot between his side and tummy, which got a hearty wheeze out of Agoti.

“Heh.” He heard Tabi chuckle, his golden eyes sparkling with amusement. He quickly crawled up his side and drilled his bony fingers into the very crevice of his underarm.

“N-NOHO!” Agoti cried, his arm shooting down to cover the sensitive spot. He foolishly trapped his hand but was glad to feel the hand leave once Tabi realized tickling wasn’t possible with his arm that tight against his side.

“Hm. Suit yourself then, I’ll just have to go to the other one.” Tabi exclaimed, oddly calm.

Tabi then began to pull up Agoti’s pinned arm, keeping it in its bent position, but steadily exposing his other armpit. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Agoti yelled, nervous giggles tumbling out of him at record speed. He resisted, pulling down as much he could as a counter to Tabi’s tugging.

He just grinned and in one swift motion, pulled the arm at the desired 45-degree angle. Agoti’s stomach dropped, seems the Russian man was holding out on the poor boy. Man, he really had to hit the weights after this.

The digidevil’s train of thought was interrupted when a single finger began to circle slowly around his pit. Agoti hid his face in the floor again, there was a large, stupid grin on his face that he couldn’t bear to expose to the rest of the world.

“Tickle, tickle, Agoti…” Tabi’s voice cooed lowly above him, making sure to purr out each syllable in the most taunting tone he could muster. This wasn’t difficult, his Russian accent left a lot of room for letters to roll off his tongue with delicious deviousness.

He still couldn’t see his face but could see Agoti was red, the blush even managing to spill onto the side of his head.

“N-noHohoHo Tahahabi, that’s sohOho meheheAn…” The demon whined, his tendrils curling with embarassment.

“Oh trust me, I can get a lot meaner~” The invisible man laughed. Then the tracing began to ascend, keeping its gentle touch until his fingers were dancing along his bicep. Agoti groaned, giggles flowing freely out of him, he knew what Tabi was getting at.

“This familiar, Agoti?” Tabi asked with an amused snort, digging into his bicep with fervor. The demon squealed, and now his giggles were much louder, mixed in with hiccups and snorts, he sounded ridiculous. The sensation was annoying, a touch he couldn’t get away from, and Tabi made sure he felt the same pain Agoti put him through.

That being instead of his underarms, the rapper had trapped his friend underneath him and tormented his knees until he screamed uncle. Tabi looked back on it with a grimace, but with the same man at his mercy, he felt a sense of relief taking out his pent-up frustration on the bastard.

“Fuhuhuck, okay! I’m s-SOohoHhorRy!” He cried, his free arm lightly slamming the floor several times. He never knew his arms were so sensitive but he guessed Tabi learned a thing or two before finally initiating his revenge.

“No excuses~” Tabi purred, lightly digging just right above where his armpit would be. Agoti cried out and knocked his forehead on the floor a few times, the sensations were going to make him go mad. “UHuHaAHAHA!” He kept this up for a while, giving his friend much-needed treatment after all the bullshit he put him through.

Well, it reached the finale and it was about time he’d given him what he was anticipating.

“Oh Agoti, I’m going to get your little armpit~” The Russian cooed, his index finger starting to slowly travel down his elbow, then his bicep, and then the little spot that would make his friend sing to the rooftops. Agoti about screamed when he announced himself and began to struggle again. “Tahahahabi seheheriously, I’m sorry! I- AHA!” Agoti whined again, squawking when he felt fingers tweak his neck.

“I don’t believe you.” The Russian man posed his hand into a claw shape right above his right underarm and kept it there. The digidevil was laughing and squirming wildly, the laughter bubbling out of him like a faucet was akin to a hyena. Tabi snorted, as much as a punishment this was, he had to admit, his digidevil friend had a cute laugh.

He snapped himself out of his trance when he realized Agoti had lied still, in wait for his friend to put him in stitches.

And that he did. Tabi touched down and scribbled furiously into the underarm. His reaction was an understatement when described as “explosive”, the man immediately burst out into raucous cackles and squeals that would be the previously mentioned hyena to shame.

Agoti had ticklish armpits, but the spot wasn’t too bad on its own. His friend’s teasing had turned into a giddy ball of nerves, which may or may not have been purposeful. He was losing it, his chest shaking with unrelenting howls of laughter.

“PLEHEHEASE, STOHOHAHAP! MEHEHERCY!” Agoti’s legs were limp on the ground, slightly twitching in contrast to his seizing torso. Tabi made sure to dig deep and as ferociously as possible into the very center, smug as a bug witnessing his friend cry for mercy.

“And why should I? You didn’t give me any mercy when you were tickling me?” His friend couldn’t answer. This continued for a while, sometimes randomly scribbling up his arm to tease the bicep until Tabi heard a wheezy cough come out of Agoti, that’s when he stopped and removed his hand.

Tabi pinned his arm back down to back and it moreover collapsed, as the digidevil was too tired to fight back at this point. Agoti panted, teary-eyed and blushing hard. The invisible man let Agoti rest his throat, after all, the true finale wouldn’t be complete if his victim wasn’t rejuvenated.

“O-oh gahad…” Agoti panted, the ghost of the tickles still lingered on his body. His shoulders rose and fell with each passing second as he gradually regained his breath.

“How was that?” Tabi asked, playfully punching his friend’s shoulder blade.

“Awful,” The rapper said with a roll of his eyes. “Now, can you get off of me? You got your revenge.” Agoti craned his neck to meet Tabi’s gaze but was confused, then horrified to be met with initial nonchalance to the spread of his grin and the speechless shake of his skull.

“Tabi, you’ve got to be shitting me!” Agoti hissed quickly, his tendrils springing into action in a series of coiling and terrified phalanges. “Nope, sorry, Agoti.” Tabi hissed right back, sarcasm oozing from his tone. Agoti was scared but realized something, he had energy! He could finally fight back.

The digidevil swung his other arm around to hopefully grab the man’s wrist and pull it off of him. He rejoiced when he felt the Russian’s grip come loose, which freed his slightly numb, right hand.

Agoi placed both hands on the floor and was going to flip himself over, taking Tabi with him. He gravely miscalculated his move, his repositioned arms exposed his most sensitive spot; his ribcage.

The goat-man acted quickly and with both hands, grabbed the sides of his ribcage and squeezed. Agoti screamed and collapsed, and Tabi took this as an opportunity to put the demon back in position. The demon moaned sadly on the floor he stuffed his face into.

“Sorry but, I’m not done here,” Tabi said, making sure his arm was firmly stuck in place with no place to move. The digidevil didn’t even say anything, seeming to have accepted his fate. That would make the job easier for Tabi, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was done asking questions. The first question was just a coverup for what he was really wondering.

Tabi gently grasped the right side of Agoti’s ribcage, not even grabbing it, just wrapping his hand around the spot, mimicking the curve of his ribs. Since Agoti’s right arm was out of commission, it was the perfect place to begin the real torture.

“This will be my second and final question, so you better listen up!” The Russian declared angrily.

The digidevil said nothing and the man pining him down took it as a sign he was listening.

Tabi sighed deeply. “Agoti, why do you keep tickling me?” All the irritation in his tone vanished, he sounded solemn and quiet. Agoti craned his neck to look at him and their gazes met instantly, as Tabi was already staring deeply into him. His eyebrows were furrowed and his golden eyes were brimming with patience. He wasn’t mad in the slightest.

Agoti’s face fell, now looking quite solemn himself. “Vell?” Tabi said, leaning a bit closer and sounded amused when his accent slipped a bit but still patiently awaiting his response.

His chest fluttered, he knew the answer to his question. Could he tell him? Could he tell Tabi that he thought he wasn’t tickling him out of mischief but because he thought his laughter was not only really cute but handsome? That being this close to him at the moment made his heart beat a mile a minute?

Tickling was his method of ‘flirting’ with Tabi. It was too embarrassing and too early, knowing him, Tabi wasn’t too interested in love after what he’s been through. Agoti could be a selfish asshole at times, but he wanted to savor his feelings when the timing was right. Tabi had taken his heart by storm the moment he had met him and the Russian man was none the wiser.

Oh who was he kidding, Agoti was just too pussy to admit he had fallen for him.

He conjured up the most bullshit answer his panicking mind could formulate. Agoti sighed and began to speak in his ‘sincerest tone’...

“It’s cuz you’re sad all the time.”

“What?” Tabi said quietly.

“Dude you’re seriously a Debbie downer, you’re constantly frowning and my jokes hardly even get to you. I wanna see you have fun, not just mopey and sad.” Agoti mumbled, avoiding the gaze now staring over his head onto him, casting a shadow. Tabi blinked at him and sighed.

“Agoti, Agoti…” Tabi started.

He stiffened when he felt something pinch his ribs. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.” He huffed, half-amused half-dissapointed.

Then the kneading began, Tabi had his hand shaped into a pincer and was thoroughly pinching and kneading in between each rib bone, along with the bone itself, and descended one rib when he figured that one had enough.

Agoti loudly snorted and bit the hell out of his lower lip, scratching at the floor with his sharp claws. He was doing a lot better than he imagined, despite his mind screaming for the sensations to stop.

Tabi realized what he was doing and coughed out a dry laugh, the mischief still left over from earlier allowed him to make such a sound.

Tabi took his hand and kneaded into the entire side of the ribcage instead, making sure his fingertips were vibrating in between the tender gaps of the bones. The Russian could feel the dam collapse immediately as Agoti breathed in…

And nothing came out. He could feel his chest shaking and saw his hand dig and curl deeply into the ground before a loud shriek could be heard. It was louder than what he heard today. Tabi winced, the sound long, shrill, and painful, before quickly descending into a cacophony of hysteria.

The kicking started back up and Agoti was back to his usual ways of thrashing and squirming. His laughter, now much more girlish, almost made Tabi smile a bit, but he kept his lips pursed and serious. “NoHOHOhOHOAHAH- hic NOTHAHOT THAHAT!”

“That’s strike one, Agoti. Do it again or I’ll go to the other side.” Tabi replied calmly, slowing his pace to gentle jabs all over his right side. Agoti was hysterical, twitching and spasming every time Tabi hit a sweet spot, much to his chagrin.

“FUhUhUCK TAHAahABi! Thihihis ihihis sohohoho BAHAHAD!” He squealed at the end when he felt pinching around his upper ribcage, dancing fingertips poking at the sensitive bone.

“I know, that’s why I asked your dad about it,” Tabi replied casually.

Wait what? “H-HuHuhuh?” Agoti giggled profusely before the former musician stopped tormenting his side.

“Yup, I asked your dad if you were ticklish. He spilled, surprisingly.” His face was knitted into a reminiscing expression, which quickly turned into unapologetic mirth as he laughed for a while, seeing from the corner of Agoti’s face that he had turned white before shifting into a deep crimson.

“D-dad told you?!” Agoti asked, exasperated.

“Yep.” Tabi repeated, popping the ‘p’, “I was expecting him to start interrogating me, to be honest, but I guess he likes me now cuz he was pretty upfront with me. A pretty standup guy if I’m being honest.” He shrugged.

.

.

.

“His ribs are his worst spot, especially the ones on the bottom, they get him the worst.” Solazar hummed, readjusting his glasses.

“Ah, I see,” Tabi said, rubbing his bony chin.

“May I ask what for?” The Solarisapien questioned, eyes gentle but burning with skepticism. An improvement from his initial scowling and shooting glares when he first met the young man.

His shoulders shook as he laughed. “Nothing important, Mr. Solazar,”

Solazar could tell he had no nefarious intentions based on his eyes, which brightened with unmistakable playfulness and mischief. He could tell where this was going, he saw that gaze all too often in his boys in their youth.

“Oh alright,” The former warrior sighed, straightening his back.

.

.

.

The digidevil was mortified beyond belief, his father sold him out?! Agoti had no time to react when he felt his pincers move again to latch onto his bony figure and wiggle in every groove possible, but Tabi made sure to avoid the bottom ones, to save the best for last, of course.

“N-nonono- T-TAHAHBI! AHaaAH NOhaHAHAHA!” He resumed his previous moments, this time, much more flustered at the bombshell that just dropped on him and squirmier than before. Even Tabi was a little disheveled at how much he was squirming.

Surely, it couldn’t feel that bad? Then he thought of that one time Agoti blasted his neck with raspberries and mentally kicked himself.

“Now then, let’s try that again. I’ll know when you’re lying, so don’t even try it.” Tabi slowed down his tickling to simply drumming across his ribs, keeping the demon back on his toes, in between cloud 9 and hysteria.

Agoti was back to senseless laughter, what would have normally been hearty giggles were hiccupy cackles. His already ablaze nerves made it hard to calm down after the vicious ribbing he was going through. Tears were nearly about to fall out of his eyes and his face hurt from smiling so much.

“Again, Agoti, why do you keep tickling me?” His serious tone when he asked initially was gone and was swapped for a more, demanding but playful tone. This time, he was scribbling his fingertips not only across his ribs but all over his side. He momentarily danced them across his back, which got some funny squeaks out of him.

The digidevil buried his face in his arm and unleashed a flurry of uncontrollable mirth, stuck in-between giggling when he felt fingers wiggle against his shoulderblades to cackles when Tabi dug his rough fingers into the divots of his ribs and hips.

The Russian man was much more impatient than before as Tabi quickened his kneading into downright drilling. He made sure it didn’t hurt, but he made damn sure Agoti knew this wasn’t as bad as it was going to get. And he couldn’t handle that.

“Well?!” Tabi yelled angrily, causing the digidevil to flinch when he heard his bark above his hysterical cackling.

“OKaHAhAHAY- AHAHA! I’LL TEHEHLL YOU! I’LL TELL!”

“Vell, go on then, I’m getting impatient.” At least he had the grace to tell him. A few seconds later Agoti managed to regain his bearings, still a bit fatigued but not completely losing it anymore.

“It’s because I- EEK!” Agoti squealed when he felt a pinch on his lower ribs. A warning for what was to come.

“Hm?”

“Because I wanted to mess with you, damn!”

His lip twitched.

“Tabi, you know that I like to mess with my friends. You’re one of them, you see how I treat people close to me, man! It’s just my way of affection and if you didn’t like it, well that’s not my fucking proBLEM-! FUCK! GAHAHAHAHAH!”

“No, you’re lying to me again,” Tabi said calmly, his face as cool and collected as he could be.

“NAHAHOHO I’M NOHOHOHOT!” The digidevil retorted, contorting his body in never before positions as his friend dug into his lower ribcage.

“Yes, you are~” He singsonged, chuckling as his fingertips kneaded into his lower rib bones. Agoti screeched when Tabi began to dig and pinch into the very last bones of his ribcage, methodical in his method to keep his friend in a state of hysterical paralysis.

Agoti went limp under him, but his chest still gyrated with cackles and hiccups. His laughter went silent when Tabi focused on the very bottom rib, teasingly circling his thumb in the tender spot until he stopped.

Agoti squeaked when he felt something touch his left side. As promised, Tabi would get him if he caught him slacking. “AH! WAIT! NOHOHO! FUCK FUCK FUHUHUCK!” That side of his body had been entirely vulnerable for the entirety he had been kept stuck under Tabi. His choosing to exploit it now was a despicable decision.

He acted quickly and shot his arm down to protect it. Tabi hadn’t exited this time, rather, it gave him a much better opportunity to knead into the crevices of his ribs. Tabi wiggled to and fro, feeling Agoti absolutely spaz and lose it as he squirm and thrash uncontrollably, his legs now reignited in a fit of kicks.

“Told you what would happen.”

The former musician began to crawl up over the entirety of his left side, up his ribs, and even managed to graze his underarm a little. He smirked as Agoti squeaked, squirmed, and howled without fail. His ribs were just that ticklish and he was going to take advantage of that fact.

This went on for eternity, at least to the digidevil. Even Aldryx was more merciful than him and he was his brother! Agoti hadn’t even realized Tabi had stopped, he was just about to tap out.

“Last chance.” Tabi hummed, looking over to his friend’s face. He looked fucked up, his face was beyond red, now in a maroonish color, eyes teary and wet from the onslaught of tickling. He panted and panted, barely processing his friend's words.

Tabi stayed silent, quietly waiting for Agoti to speak up. He waited much longer than he had before, allowing the digidevil to regain his breath and recover. But when Agoti finally did, he said nothing, nothing at all. Tabi waited another minute longer and shook his head at the revelation that he wouldn’t be getting an answer.

“Awww, well that’s too bad~” The Russian cooed, beginning to slowly tweak his sides again. “What, did you want to be tickled that bad, Goti?” He chuckled when he heard Agoti groan, he hated being called that.

“S-shuhut uhuhup…” He said, exhaustion clearly in his voice.

“Naahh, you deserve it after wasting my time like this.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Agoti bluntly mumbled.

Tabi just chuckled, releasing his arm from his hold, allowing it to flop uselessly on the floor. He didn’t get off his back however, only readjusting his position to side sideways, no longer straddling him and allowing him to plop his feet on the ground.

The seconds ticked by, the two quietly enjoying one another’s presence. It was like this for a while, with Agoti being oddly complicate with being sat on and the Russian not saying a word, however, the silence was broken when he spoke up.

“So am I ever gonna get an answer?”

Agoti said nothing.

Tabi just sighed and went back to staring off into space.

“It’s cuz I like you.” He heard him mumble.

“Mhm…” His nodded his head and went back- wait, what?! What was melancholy turned into alarm, his eyes widened, and he turned his head to look at Agoti. His entire face was hidden by his tendrils, making it impossible to tell what expression he was making.

“Agoti…” Tabi whispered.

“Hehe yeah, it’s dumb. I get it if you don’t feel the same.” Agoti chuckled dryly, void of any amusement. Hell, he sounded a bit nervous. So much for ‘too early’...

The goatman was quiet and the digidevil expected him to get up before spitting out a blunt rejection. What he didn’t expect was the graze of bone grazing his head before brushing away some of his limp tendrils, allowing him to see the side of his face. His cheeks were bright and lips pulled into a tight frown.

“What, that’s it? You only just liked me?”

“Yeah…”

The former musician's chest shook as those deep, rich chuckles rang out of him. Agoti’s heart did a flip when he heard them but didn’t make it known. Tabi cupped the side of his face and turned it, forcing the digidevil to look at him.

His white scleras widened, his golden eyes were soft, and the fondness that glimmered from them was overwhelmingly tender.

“I like you too, Agoti.” He purred softly, maintaining eye contact with the young man, who by this point had completely melted, he could feel the blood pump to his cheeks as the man above him smirked. Damn, he was hot at this angle.

Tabi dismounted Agoti and sat beside his lying body. The digidevil, now able to sit up, did the same. He avoided eye contact like a bitch, he could tell he was staring right at him.

The silence was loud, with the man of his dreams staring at him like he was a million bucks. It gave him the ego boost, but he didn’t expect it so soon and certainly wasn’t ready.

“You want a kiss, big baby?” Tabi teased.

The question made the digidevil freeze and blush even more. He managed to turn to Tabi, who was much closer than he remembered. Agoti didn’t remember him looking this handsome, especially since his snout was a whisper away from his face.

His breath hitched when the goatman grasped his shoulders and pulled him in. It didn’t take long for their lips to touch, although his snout made it a little awkward, Tabi turned his way at such an angle that Agoti was surprised to feel thin yet firm lips touch his own.

Soon they melted into each other’s arms, with Tabi delicately kissing him and the digidevil being unable to think, his stomach exploding into butterflies.

When Tabi pulled away, Agoti collapsed into his chest. Tabi laughed in surprise but kept the man in his arms, playing with his hair as his other arm wrapped around his back.

His fingertips gently scrubbed through his scalp, sending chills down his spine. His tendrils were also ticklish, but of course, he couldn’t tell him that, otherwise, he’d never live it down.

“Oh, Agoti~” He cooed, taking full advantage of his accent. Hearing his name belted out in such a way made Agoti puddy in his bony palms. His chin was tugged upwards by Tabi’s hand and placed his chin directly in the center of his torso, allowing the two to make direct eye contact.

The Russian admired him for a second longer before pressing a small kiss to his forehead. “So cute~ Can I kiss you again?”

As if he could refuse. Agoti lightly nodded and thus the process repeated, the two gently kissing one another, with Tabi blurting out the occasional praise and compliment, somehow always catching the digidevil offguard. In the midst of their makeup session, Tabi had gotten a little mischievous and squeezed the side of Agoti’s ribcage, which made him shriek.

He chuckled evilly, as Agoti began to squirm, collapsing his back into his torso, only allowing Tabi to wrap his arms around his torso and attack his sides that way. He was hysterical, his cheeks now red with how much he was laughing.

“Aw, look at you~” Tabi cooed, pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. Boyfriend? Yes, boyfriend! He slowed down the tickles to soft wiggling, leaving the man softly tittering.

“B-bahahahbe c-cmohohohon!”

“Nope, that’s what you get for not being honest with me, Goti’!”

“God I fuhuhucking hahahate yohohou!” The digidevil spat, leaning his head against his boyfriend’s chest, uselessly grasping the wrists currently tickling the sides of his ribcage. Tabi just rolled his eyes, knowing that it was far from the truth, and focused on peppering his neck and cheeks with quick kisses, while tweaking his ribs.

What a day to be alive, I suppose.

✿

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Fin~

Thanks for reading btw and being so patient with my inactive ass :333 💀

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

hello love! can i make a request for gaz x f!reader she a civilian and a florist and he keeps visiting her and they slowly fall for each other and he calls her his sunflower or something cute like that? you can make up the rest, sorry if it’s not super detailed!

Gossamer Silk Smiles

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Florist!Reader

Synopsis: You loved your job more than anything, and at the end of the day, even with pricked fingers and cramped muscles, you went to bed happy. It had all been going well, insanely well. You were focused; self-assured... Until he showed up. 

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Insane amount of fluff, this is the definition of a soft fic, beginning of a relationship

A/N: I know this man would treat me right. Also changed the nickname around a bit, but sunflowers are still prominent. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you opened your flower shop, you told yourself there was no going back – no distractions or second options. This was what you loved more than anything and at the end of the day, even with pricked fingers and cramped muscles, you went to bed happy. It had all been going well, insanely well. 

Until he showed up. 

It had been a shitty day, one for the record books, in your opinion. Shipments for Larkspur, Zinnias, and Sunflowers had come to the shop damaged. The boxes had been so beaten up you half-believed the mail carrier had gotten into a personal disagreement with them. All initial humor aside, you were now out of this week's product as well as a good chunk of money – the flowers couldn’t even be considered that anymore, seeing as they were really just broken stems and stray crumpled pedals. Then came the unusual amount of rude customers and the building of minor inconveniences. 

But to your credit, you didn’t let it get to you. 

Well…externally, at least. 

“Have a great rest of your day,” you force out with a strained smile to an older woman who only huffs. She stalks out of the shop with a vase full of Daylilies, Purple Cornflowers, Yarrow, and Taro leaves. “I hope your brother gets well soon–” The glass door shuts with a clatter of the small silver bell attached to the frame. 

Leaning back on your heels, your eyes close; taking down a deep breath, you hope your lungs won't explode in your chest as you hold it there. 

“Fucking hell.” The air flies from you in a weak groan. 

Your fingers tap against the countertop, and a small, humorless, chuckle later you’re walking out to change the window sign to closed instead of open. It was well past your usual shift anyways, but the previous customer had been relentless about the ‘perfect bouquet.’

“Like there’s even such a thing,” your lips twist into an annoyed frown as you speak to yourself in a grumble. “...Should have just denied her service… Didn’t even leave a tip.” 

You really wouldn’t have minded helping her that much if she had just been kinder towards you.

Grabbing the small paper sign held up by a suction-cup hook, you flip it around with little thought, already trying to plan out a way to make up for the weeks worth of ruined product. You don’t even notice the man speeding down the sidewalk until his desperate face is staring right into yours – only separated by a thin piece of glass. 

Yelping, your shoulders tense at the sudden visage. 

The man was around your age, tall, and had a handsome face inlaid with eyes reminiscent of deep amber. Light reflected off the iris in ways you can only describe as the glinting sun does off waves of water; gentle. Nearly soft, really. He was wearing a ball cap with an embroidered British flag on the front and had a panicked look set on his lips. 

Close to the door handle, his long fingers freeze mid-air and you find the prominent muscular build and set of his shoulders staining the back of your eyelids like a movie screen. Whoever this guy was, it didn’t stray from the fact that he was attractive.

You’re not happy about it, but your mind blanks as you stare with wide eyes; heart steady in your breast. 

He blinks at you, square jaw loose, also double-taking from beyond the see-through barrier. His flickering eyes flew quickly over your form just as you had ogled him moments prior. 

Silly, perhaps, and childish at best, but you felt your throat tighten with stilled breath. There was a small chunk of time that you both just gawked at each other – as if Cupid had suddenly stabbed you both with one of his blots; gazes inexplicably locked as blood dripped to the floor from copper arrowheads.

If you were more gullible, you would have called it love at first sight. But you were anything but that. 

Sighing, you rip your eyes away and take a breath. Opening the door with more questions than answers, you were praying that it didn’t get dark before you could help this man with whatever it is that he needed. 

I can see the fucking veins on his forearms. You think as the chilled air hits your face,  recalling the peek you sent to the rolled-up sleeves of this stranger’s blue button-down. 

The bell above you dings as you set the door in the crook of your shoulder, leaning out halfway. Clearing your throat, you ask steadily, “Can I help you, Sir…?” 

He sets his stubbled jaw, vision snapping to the side for a split second that was so fast you almost missed it. 

“Erm…my apologies, Ma’am, for rushing up like that.” He lets off a chuckle, and the flag on his hat is quickly explained away by the prominent accent. “Hope I didn’t worry you.” 

Fighting the uptick of your lips you feel your chest let go of a sliver of tension. He was smiling slightly at you, the khaki pants he wears creasing as his feet set themselves; his brown eyes never leave your face. 

Respectful, you think.

“Not every day you have people trying to barge into a flower shop. Trust me, Sir, I sleep well knowing no one wants to rob me.” Attempting a light joke, the stranger's chest jerks in a silky laugh. The tips of your ears heat, the blood under your skin rushing. 

His laugh was like a blanket during a storm; a cup of hot chocolate during a blizzard. Could you be attracted to a laugh? You seemed to ask yourself. Already your mind was coming up blank at this, all of a sudden, welcome intrusion. 

“Well, I’d imagine that’s a good thing, then?” He teases showing off pearly white teeth.

“Incredibly.” Opening the door wider, you beam. “You’re lucky I was still here. I’d normally be all locked up by now.”

You should be closing – telling this stranger to leave and come back tomorrow – but something inside of you told you to just open the door. It was illogical, unprofessional, and downright strenuous on your already foul mood…but this individual had such an air to him that you wondered who exactly he was. He made your skin pule with goosebumps.

“Thanks,” the man utters as he slips inside, nodding his head to you and fixing the position of his hat with one hand. “Yeah…I’m incredibly sorry about this but I’m runnin’ on a bit of a time crunch, to be honest with you. I’ve been checking every shop in town – you’re the only one with the lights still on…” He looks to you, “I really hope I’m not causing any trouble for you, Ma’am.”

Slipping your fingers into your work apron’s pockets, you let the door shut and tilt your head to the side, gaze softening at the pure candor of his words. 

“Emergency flower orders are always my favorites to work on. It’s no problem, really.” You say your name as an introduction and ask what he would like to purchase as he scratches at the back of his neck with a boyish twist to his lips. 

“Kyle Garrick.” He sticks out his hand and you shake it instantly. Kyle’s hands are warm despite the cold weather outside, and you have to stop yourself from melting into him as you pull back. But already your skin tingles. “Actually, I was wondering if you might be able to help me on that front. What flowers would be the best for an apology?…just not something too flashy, if that’s possible.” 

He trails with an awkward chuff, obviously not used to being in a flower shop before. You wondered if he even had a favorite flower. You hoped he did.

You could really tell a lot about someone based on the types of flora they surrounded themselves with.

“Apology?” You wonder, tilting your head. Quickly falling into work mode, you continue, “I can work with that. Do you have any preferences? Colors?”

“Well, she likes orange, yeah?” He speaks and your heart sputters for a moment. Smile freezing. “I don’t suppose that’ll help very much, but it’s really all I have to go off of. I’m a bit of a hopeless bastard when it comes to flowers.” Kyle lets off a huff of laughter.

She. Of course, he’s already in a relationship. 

Nodding, you swiftly walk past the man, catching the scent of fresh-tilled earth and rainy grass as your shoulders nearly brush. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed. It wasn’t every day you found yourself attracted to someone. But, oh well, life continues on.

“Well,” heading towards the wall baskets, your body feels heavy, but you quickly force it to the side. You really shouldn’t be surprised. “You said orange? I have about seven you can pick from.”

“Affirmiti–erm, yes, Ma’am.”  

“Hm.” You hear him come up behind you, following at a respectful distance. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you watch as his eyes slide over the various types of flowers, all separated by color, with deep thought. 

A slight furrow was in his dark brow. His dedication was adorable. 

“What’s this one called?” Kyle asks, moving around you to a bushel of orange poppies and accidentally bumping into your side. 

Grunting, you lightly jerk forward until a hand swiftly grabs your shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering, you look up with shock at the embarrassed face slightly leaning over you. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. That’s my bad.” 

“N-no, you’re fine.” God, this was so awkward. Smiling shakily, you feel the press of his hand over your skin, separated only by the thin barrier of your shirt. Kyle squeezes your flesh before letting go. 

He was staring at you, though. Brown eyes set into dark skin with a soft expression like Pygmalion staring at his marble-wrought Galatea. But as quickly as it was there, the look was gone and the man was clearing his throat, snapping his neck back to the basket and shifting his feet.

Even if you couldn’t explicitly see it, you knew he was blushing – just the same as the heat in your capillaries mirrored. Swallowing to get rid of the dryness of your throat, you realize you’ve been gawking before sliding your hands into your pockets and quickly looking away. 

Why won’t my heart stop beating so fast?

“Those are Orange Poppies. Papaver orientale.” Speaking, you reach forward and grab the stem of a single bloom holding it to him as he gazes down at you from your side. “Common in ‘get well soon’ bouquets, if you were curious.” 

Holding it up to him, you watch his fingers delicately pluck it from you like the flower was made of glass. It nearly made you laugh, but you settled on a small smile instead. 

“It’s pretty…” Kyle pauses, and you read it well enough.

“...But not what you were looking for.” Settling on the answer, you giggle when he passes off a sheepish smile and a nod. “I kind of guessed. Here – how about this.” 

He ends up buying a handful of orange Tulips, Myrtle leaf for greenery, and a small gathering of Baby’s-Breath. Behind the counter, you try to stay focused on setting the flora perfectly in the clear vase as your clippers lay beside it. Frowning, you take the long stem of a Tulip and snip the end at an angle, placing it to the far left of the rest with a concentrated set of your eyebrows. 

“So,” Kyle says, breaking the silence, and your fingers twitch as your spell is shattered. Soul stilling, you look up at him as he waits on the other side of the counter with his arms comfortably crossed. He leans back on his heels, feet shoulder-length apart. “Busy day today, then? Other places around here are mostly dark by five.”

Standing straighter, you politely smile before going back to the arrangement, hand reaching for the small white tufts of Baby’s-Breath.

“Mostly, yeah.” You cock your head to the side, “I was supposed to be home two hours ago, but one lady was very adamant about getting the most ‘perfect’ flowers, as she told it.” 

Chuckling humorlessly, you step back and stare at the vase, not aware of the eyes stuck on the tired slump of your shoulders or the slight frown staining the man’s lips. 

“Two hours? Well, that’s a bit excessive.” Kyle remarks, eyelids creasing, “I’d hope she at least left a tip for you?” 

That gets a laugh out of you, lungs jerking for a moment; focus once more brought back to the present at the preposterous words that just left your customer’s mouth. Those brown eyes suck you back in to a point where you wonder if you’d ever be able to look away.

“Now that’s funny, Mr. Garrick.”

He lets the subject drop, but you notice a slight crease in-between in brows – a narrowness to his eyes that wasn't there before. You try not to think too much into it, but Kyle certainly did seem like the man to get upset when people aren’t treated respectfully. The thought warms your heart. 

Or maybe I’m just reading too much into this. 

“Is there anything you’d like me to rearrange, Sir…? Do you want a note to go with it?” Seemingly lost in thought, Kyle comes back to you with a diligent shake of his head.

“It looks perfect, Love. And, please, just Kyle’s alright. You’re makin’ me sound like an old man when you talk like that.” He chuckles, and it’s a rich, velvety sort of thing – twisted with blue satin and wrapped in a gentle breeze. Your stomach twists. 

“Then I suppose that’s it, then. I’ll get you the bill and you can be on your way.” Turning around to calculate the total price, you make a quick comment in passing, not really thinking about it as you tap on your calculator. “I hope your girlfriend and you make up.” 

A stunned silence falls, but you only focus on the numbers, jotting down the total on a sticky note and turning around after re-running the costs a last time. When your eyes lock with him, your feet stall at the dumbfounded look on Kyle’s face and the confusion ingrained in his body language. His head had pulled back slightly, hat tilted.

“What’s that?” He asks. 

“Your…girlfriend?” You say slowly, walking closer and passing him the sticky note, “you said you were getting her apology flowers?” 

The handsome man blinks at you before realization lights in his eyes like fire. Kyle laughs deeply, putting a hand on top of his head and pressing down on his cap.

“Oh, Bloody hell, no.” He takes a deep breath and you feel your lips pressed together in confusion, innocent intrigue taking place in your skull. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I should have told you right off. This is for my mum.” 

Blinking in surprise you pause, looking up with wide eyes. 

Sweetheart?...Mum?! Your face heats to an intense level. Oh. 

“O-oh I didn’t…” He’s reaching for his wallet with a large lop-sided smile on his face and understanding eyes, watching you as he flips it open. You settle with a single laugh and say, “sorry, I guess I just assumed.”

But you can’t help the sudden relief that sprouted out of nowhere that leaves your lips pulling back in a mirrored grin. You’d been doing that a lot, as of the last fifteen minutes. 

“It’s no problem,” Kyle admits, “Thing is, I’ve been off on deployment for a while, and I missed my return date party, unfortunately. Just got back about noon today and I decided I was going to surprise her tonight.” The man pulls out a large stack of bills, “Thought she’d like that, yeah? Can’t go wrong with flowers, can you?” 

“You’re in the military?” You ask smoothly but internally swoon at the thought of a son giving his mother flowers out of the kindness of his heart. Whoever she was, you know the woman who raised this man would be overjoyed with the prospect of simply having him home safe and sound before anything else. 

Did not Penelope, wife of Odysseus, care for her son Telemachus more than anything? Above danger and possible death? They protected each other. You supposed it was the same in this situation. 

Being able to be a part of it made your legs weak.

“Something like that, Ma’am.” Kyle’s lips flick into a smirk as he hands you the bills. “Feels like I’m surrounded by children most days, but there’s no place I’d rather be…When I’m not nearly getting my head bloody blown off, that is.”

You huff in amusement, and slight concern, taking the payment and settling it on the counter without checking the numbers; never doubting whether he gave you the right amount or not.  

“Well, it seems like you’ve got it all figured out.” Garrick looks to his feet for a moment, pocketing his wallet, and clears his throat near mutely. He tilts his head back up to you.

“Nearly,” he whispers under his breath, a delicate wrinkle on his forehead as his lips pull in a minute, closed, grin. Sheepishly, you look away from his intense brown gaze before you can make a fool of yourself as giddiness sparks in your racing heart. What was happening to you? You have to ask yourself. Where was all of this blatant scatterbrained activity stemming from? No one had ever made you act like this before. 

As you look away, your eyes unintentionally land on the wall clock across the room, and your thoughts still like water in a puddle. Eyes widening comedically, you feel your lips part. 

“I really need to be closing up.” You say apologetically, looking back to the man who touches one of the Myrtle leaves carefully, running it between his thumb and forefinger. Under you, your feet shift over the floor. “Is this all you’ll be needing?” 

“Pretty sure.” Garrick answers easily, “I won't keep you any longer, eh? I’d hate it if I made you go home by yourself after dark.” 

“That’s very thoughtful, Kyle, thank you.” Pushing the vase over the counter, he takes it up and pauses as if he wants to say something. His mouth opens before closing – looking at his feet for a moment and itching at his neck with his free hand. 

“I…don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Ma’am,” your breath hollows, watching carefully as you listen. “But, uh, I,” Kyle shifts his eyes to your face, standing a bit straighter as the corner of his lip flicks up, “You’re just about the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met – if that’s not overstepping, of course.” 

He laughs stiffly to dispel tension, and the air suddenly gets ten times hotter at the brutally honest, if not mildly stuttered, confession. You can nearly hear the blood rushing to your head like a flood of ocean water – more violent and immediate than a tsunami. In your ribcage, your bones ache at the beating organ and the swell of your lungs. Having to take a deep breath to not forget yourself entirely, your mind rages.

Did he really just say that? He…he called me beautiful. 

When was the last time you had been called that? By such a lovely and kind man nonetheless. Kyle seemed like a confident person, his profession telling you that already, but the way he was acting now he seemed hesitant; like he was appalled by the fact you would take what he was saying the wrong way and come off creepy. 

But that was so blatantly opposite of how you were reacting. 

“I-” You stutter, eyes snapping away and hands coming to hold themselves in front of your abdomen, “well, I think you’re very handsome, yourself, Kyle.” A meek expression spreads your visage as you see the breath in his chest hitch, “and I wouldn’t call that overstepping at all. Not by a long shot.” 

His eyes widen, and a second of intense eye contact later, he smiles and glances away. Garrick sneaks looks as you bite your lip, and finally, he nods firmly before his phone starts to ring in his pocket. 

As if a switch had turned, his hand snaps down and grasps the device, peeling it out of his khakis and checking the contact. Immediately he utters.

“Oh, Shit, this is her. I’ve got to run.” He walks backward a few steps before turning and lightly jogging to the front door. Following with your eyes, you’re somewhat entranced by the man. 

Before he can walk through the door, he stops in his tracks.

“Sorry, again,” Kyle turns back around, and his dark eyebrows crease, “but, uh, what days are you open?” 

The giddy smile that forms on your cheeks leaves your skin hurting.

“All of ‘em except the weekends,” you say, confidence suddenly sprouting in your veins, “but I’m sure if you told me ahead of time that you were stopping by, I’d make an exception.”

“I’d imagine for emergency flowers only?” Kyle teases, a smirk on his face. His eyes promise you, though, that this will not be the last time you see him. 

“Of course.” You reply, raising a brow. “I’m a florist, after all, Garrick. Emergency flowers are my specialty. If you’re ever in need of more, I’ll be here, waiting.”

He laughs, stares for a few seconds longer with a distant sheen, and disappears through the door. You don’t follow when his form fades from the windows entirely. You don’t ask for his number, even if you knew you should have. You don’t look at the amount he gave you as you put it in the register, knowing, even by your intuition, that it is double the amount he was due. 

You’d just tell him all about it when you saw him again.

Until Kyle Garrick showed up you had been focused; as immovable as a mountain, but then as the days drew on, you faltered. Your eyes would linger on the glass as people pass by, heart in your throat and feet tapping as you bound stems. Flowers had taken up so much of your life, but now another was trying to push its way in – slowly infecting you like a parasite in your mind as the days went on. 

And as he kept showing up, month after month, he had taken to calling you Persephone. A goddess of spring and nature; beautiful flowers of all colors and shapes growing on hills and in vibrant meadows. It was perhaps the greatest compliment someone like you could have been given. At first, it had been a nickname until it had become as common as your actual title, and Kyle used it so much even regular customers teased you with it with smirks and side-eyes. You only rolled your optics with a burning under your skin and a small smile.

“Well, look, it’s Persephone…”

“That boy of yours here, Persephone? Hiding in the back room perhaps?”

“Persephone – you have any Peonies this week?”

You didn’t mind it…really, you didn’t. If anything, you thought it was precious. A man comparing you to a goddess that danced in green fields as flowers sprouted at her feet? Yes, that was quite alright.

Quite alright, indeed.

—

The office room was cold, he thought. Nearly a meat locker. 

How in the hell can he stand to work in here, Kyle asked himself. Bloody place is like a damn winter storm just minus the snow. 

He was seated in one of the two chairs in front of the mahogany desk, hands on the armrests and feet tapping the floor. When the Sergeant had gotten the order on his radio to come to Captain Price’s office ASAP, he had expected the man to already be here, but five minutes later he was still sitting in silence. 

That wasn’t to say he was bored, though. He was thinking of you. He could never be bored when he did that. 

It brings a small smile to Garrick’s face as he relives your last interaction, lips unconsciously twitching as his eyes grow distant. 

You’d made him a flower crown, mostly as a joke, but had been left in raging fits of laughter when you’d placed it on his head. 

“Hold still,” you grunt, sitting on the front counter and keeping the weaved headpiece in your grip as it hovers above the man’s scalp, “I want to get it centered on the first go.”

“Y’know,” Kyle chuffs, “I could always do it myself – I do have working hands, Love.” 

“Shush!” Exclaiming, your breath fans his face, leaving him more still than a statue, if only to smell your scent and be content with your body so close to his. Kyle was still working out the best way to ask you out officially, but that didn’t seem to extend to his instinctual actions when it came to you. It was increasingly hard to stop his head from leaning just that tiniest bit forward and connecting his lips to yours. 

The pressure on his head brings him back, and his eyes blink as if they could force all the rogue thoughts from his mind. Kyle clears his throat when you lean back, acutely aware of the longing set of his dark brows as he had stared off at you. 

“Well, then,” The Sergeant clears his throat and smiles at your concentrated face, though he notices the hitch in your chest with a strange sense of pride. “How’s it lookin'? Is just as you imagined, eh?”

Your face scrunches, head tilting. Kyle couldn’t remember a time he’d let someone put a wreath of flowers on his head, woven with Forget-Me-Nots, Silver Dollar Eucalyptus, and Tiger Lillies. The others would make fun of him for this. 

But he found he cared little. If you kept smiling at him like that, he’d let you do anything to him in a heartbeat. 

“Perfect.” You chuckle. “You should have let me do this earlier.”

The shop was closed – it was a weekend, after all, and that was the time for restocking and number crunching. Not really the time for making crowns for a man who was totally smitten with you.  

“You sure that you don’t need these?” Kyle asks, a hand reaching up to his head to touch the flora. “I’d hate to not pay you for them, Love. Can only imagine how expensive they are to order.” 

“Eh,” rolling your eyes, your legs brush the Sergeant’s hips from where they sit around them, and the man has to remember how to breathe properly, “they’re the old product, anyway. I’d have to get rid of them by Monday. Better for such a handsome individual to have a crown of his own, with all the gallantry he practices in his job. It’s the least I could do, hm?”

You’re teasing him, a smirk taking up the frame of Kyle’s vision. He returns the action, hands coming to rest on either side of your hips; leaning forward until his nose with mere inches away. He hears your chest rattle with a slow breath.

“Are you teasin’ me, Persephone?” He asks sneakily, as you begin to giggle. “Insinuating I need a flower crown to be recognized at work? It’ll certainly get me attention, that’s for sure, yeah? Just not the kind I want. Soap’ll have a field day.” 

“He’d just make a few comments, I’m sure.” 

“You’ve never met him. The bloke would never let it go until the day I kicked the bucket.” You’re laughing, one hand coming up to cover your mouth. 

Kyle hates himself at that moment because you’ve never looked so beautiful, and he can’t quite pick up the courage to just lean in. So he watches with a matching look of happiness and an embarrassing, yet adored, flower crown on top of his close-shaven head. He watches with an ache in his chest and a violent beat to his heart as your body heat melts into him; urging him, prompting him. 

But he just smiles and watches a moment longer before taking a step back. 

“Sir,” Garrick asks, settling back down and watching the older man slink behind his desk, “What’s all this about?” 

The door opens with a firm hand. Kyle startles to his feet, tuning and about to go into an instinctual formal greeting before the Captain speaks, beating him to it.

“At ease, Sergeant. Take a seat.”  

Price sighs as he takes a seat, slapping a large file that was previously in his hand to the wood before opening his drawer with a grunt. Gaz watches with narrowed eyes as his superior ignores his question, pulling out a large cigar from a lockbox and slotting it between his lips. A lighter follows soon after, and soon the smell of burning tobacco enters the air. 

“...Captain?” Kyle was starting to get nervous now. Why was he looking at him like that? Blue eyes seem to dig deep into Gaz’s soul, trying to find something that was hidden behind layers and layers of flesh and bone. 

John pulls the stick from his lips and holds it between his fingers, smoke now entering the air and rising to perforate like mist. Feet shifting over the floor, Kyle’s heart skips a beat. 

What in the hell is going on? 

That’s when the bearded man speaks. 

“Well, who are they, then?” Price asks, tilting his head forward as his bucket hat sits where it usually does atop his brown hair. The Captain’s eyes are squinted; curious but still laced with that authority that never seemed to leave no matter how many years the two had known each other. 

“Pardon, Sir?” Gaz has to ask, confusion prominent in his expression. “They?”

John raises a thick brow as if the answer was obvious.

“You’re distracted. Been checking your phone like it’s going to explode the last few days. So,” the Captain stares at him heavily, taking another drag before placing the cigar in his ashtray and breathing out a cloud of smoke. He leans forward and places his hands on the table, as Kyle watches, perplexed, “who is it, Sergeant? No use hiding it.”

“I…” Gaz trails before blinking dumbly, lips parting, “oh, hell, was it that obvious?”

“Painfully.” The answer makes the younger man cringe and his skin pulls tight. A pause leaves the room silent, the Sergeant avoiding his Captain’s gaze as he tilts his head away for a moment. He clears his throat. 

“She’s just…” Kyle clears his throat, “someone I met in the city. A florist. Down on Main Ave.”

“A florist, eh?” Grunting, John nods his head to himself. “Asked the bird out, then?” 

“What?” Snapping his head up, Gaz says loudly with stuttering lips, “N-no, Sir. Not yet.” 

The man ahead of him hums, leaning back and flipping his file open, taking a moment to pick up the first page and skim the contents with small eyes. He looks over the top with a blank expression. 

“I’d get on that, Son.” 

—

Today was different, you knew. Something was going to happen. An unexplainable feeling was in the back of your mind, making you somewhat anxious even if you didn’t know exactly why. It was like a sheet had been thrown over your head and someone had just told you to run in circles without hitting a wall; feet tied with a rope. 

The morning had started off normal, as had everything else that followed, but there was an air of expectation wafting in front of you. 

What’s going on? You ask as you wipe down the counter with a wet rag, swiping stray leaves and petals into the garbage bin at your feet. Why am I feeling like I’m expecting something to happen? 

It was Tuesday – nothing astounding ever happens on Tuesdays. 

The front door opens with the ringing of a silver bell, and you say absentmindedly, still caught in your thoughts, “be with you in a moment!” 

A cough startles you, your hand squeezing the rag a bit tighter as your neck twists upwards. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” 

“Kyle,” you laugh and take a breath, “I didn’t expect you today…” 

Freezing, your lips part in a silent gasp when you see it. The man you had come to have quite the crush on was standing a few paces from the door, dressed in a nice shirt and dress pants, jacket in the crook of his arm. He holds a single Sunflower in his grasp. 

It wasn’t anything overly impressive, a bit small and dead at the tips, but nonetheless, your heart stuttered at the gift. Staring at it silently, you turn your gaze to Kyle as his feet shift over the floor nervously. A strange look had overtaken his face, but he had a confident air to him that you’d been seeing more and more of the last few visits. 

“What’s this?” You ask carefully, body going hot all over and lungs swelling. 

You’d loved flowers for most of your life; worshiped them like the people of Delphi worshiped their god-chosen Oracle. But never could you recall a moment when you had been given any out of free will. Everyone always assumed you disliked getting them because of your job, but, oh, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Flowers were like declarations of emotions – they could mean so many things to so many different people. They were the truth laid bare in nature as plainly as it could be, wrought with promises.

Your breath stills, eyelids pulling back delicately; lips parting. 

Kyle speaks softly, raising the flower in his grip.

“I remembered you saying you liked these more than roses – you called them ‘tacky’ if I’m…remembering correctly. The roses, that is.”

He was remembering correctly. But that had been just a passing comment to another customer you had been helping before him. Unimportant. A quick piece of yourself that hadn’t mattered while you were cutting stems and looping twine. 

But he remembered it. 

A giggle falls from you until your hand snaps up, trapping it behind parted fingers and an awe-filled face. 

“I wanted to give it to you,” he continued, walking forward with measured steps, “and ask you a question, if you’d let me.”

“Of course, I would.” It’s breathless, the way you say it, and suddenly you know exactly why you've been so on edge today. 

You’d been waiting for him.

And when he smiles at you, your mind runs to gossamer silk. Such a delicate thing; that smile, comparable to the millions of strands a spider spins in a lifetime. Gorgeous and so very easily missed if you weren’t looking at just the right moment. Gossamer Silk. 

Since when has his grin become so important to you? To where you craved it just as violently as water or food? That look in his amber gaze – the one that left you breathless even when you simply thought about it, that was what you wanted to witness when you woke up in the mornings. You wanted his arms around you. You wanted his lips pressed to yours. You wanted him to be in your kitchen making you dinner as the rain fell outside and the flowers in your back garden grew strong and beautiful. 

You wanted him to be yours.

Kyle stops behind the counter and hands you the flower. You reach for it without complaint instantaneously, wondering momentarily if he had just happened upon one and taken it in a moment of passion. Both of your fingers brush, and the imaginary sparks that fly make you turn slightly shy, head tilting to the side for a moment. 

But a finger hooks under your chin, moving it back as delicately as bird wings, gentle feathers tickling your flesh and nerves. 

A hum resonates in your chest, eyes crinkling as you stare into amber brown with flecks of gold. You could get lost in them if you looked too much. 

But you didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Persephone, would you do me the great honor,” the two of you laugh at the wispy and teasing tone, and suddenly you wish the counter between you would disappear into thin air, “of going on a date with me tonight?” 

Tuesdays, perhaps, might have just become the best day of the week, and a small Sunflower with dead tips and fading yellow, your new favorite flower. 

Ironic, how that works. He ended up distracting you more than you could ever imagine.

—

“Don’t you have to be back on base soon, Garrick?” You mutter into a warm chest, street lights shining into the windows of the apartment. 

“Bloody hell, yes…But I’d crawl back to you, if you asked it of me.”

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[lullinglily]

Hello!

Can I request a Radahn x gn where he takes the reader horseback riding on Leonard at night to stargaze.

Hope this isn’t super vague

(Btw love u work)

Tysm! I apologize for being a bit slow with requests.

General Radahn x gn!Reader Stargazing Headcanons

All plans had been set aside for the evening, the date scheduled months in advance. Between the general’s constant military preparations and his weekly trips to Sellia, time for the both of you had been made scarce; but no longer. 

The general fought with a distinct merriness that morning, a jovial energy powering his blades — his men took notice, of course. They learned the source of his cheer soon enough however, and all at once did they understand.

So few individuals had this effect on Radahn, the only two being his steed Leonard and you, his consort. Both of which, his men learned, he would be spending ample time with today.

The general’s precious consort was a most beloved figure among the Redmanes, and a beacon of light for their cherished general.

Jerren was put in charge of the castle while Radahn spent the rest of his evening with you, a task the old man accepted with a wink and warm smile. 

You met your loving husband with your own steed’s reigns in one hand and a pair of sugar cubes in the other. The general’s visage instantly lit up as you came into view, and so too did Leonard’s once he saw the gift you held for him. 

Radahn wasted no time scooping you up as soon as your horses had had their fill of your affection. He’d missed you so greatly the past few moons he was sure his heart would burst with excitement the moment he had you in his grasp. It remained intact, of course, but roared with an affection unmatched. 

He held your hand and helped you atop your mount, his touch lingering for a moment longer than needed.

Radahn kept a slow pace as he led, preferring to savor the moment and spend as much time with you as possible.

The brilliant stars your Radahn governed began to pepper the sky as the evening stretched on into night; and as he looked over to ensure you were navigating the darkness with ease he felt his heart fill close to bursting yet again.

There you were, his sweet consort, bathed in the heavenly light of his night sky, gazing up at it in awe. He swelled with pride — with love for you — and promptly dismounted.

You laid beside him, felt his warmth around you as he squeezed you closer to his side, the both of you staring up at the ever-still stars. 

He pointed out to you the various astral beauties he had come to know so well over the years due to their stasis, feeling his smile grow wider as you nodded and admired not only his strength but his knowledge as well. 

You could point to almost any star and he would call it by name; nevermind that he might be making them up as he goes just to impress you.

He pointed out two particularly bright stars that seemed in close proximity to each other, saying they were like the both of you; destined to be near to one another for as long as they both shall live. That saying, you thought, sounded familiar. One reminiscent of a promise made for eternity and sealed by an exchanging of rings. Your wedding took place underneath the night sky as well, if you remembered correctly. 

It seemed your husband had remembered the event just as you did, and sought out your lips to kiss you just as tenderly as he had back then.

His hand came up to gently tilt your face towards his own, and yet again the stars were witness to their conquerer’s burning love for the one he called his own.