#a bit different from what i usually write

[cheapshrimpysheep]

True Feelings Chocolate - OB Students

SUMMARY: It is normal on Valentine's Day for friends or schoolmates to exchange chocolates with each other. However, the quality of the chocolate reveals how the person really sees you. And homemade chocolate is the greatest message of love that someone can receive on this day.

CHARACTERS: Overblot Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia) x Yuu (Reader)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kiss

WORD COUNT: An average of 1.280 words per character.

COMMENTS: The number of words varies depending on how much the character is the type to hide his true feelings.

I also would like to be able to write more eloquent lines for characters like Malleus, but as English is not my first language this becomes a bit difficult sometimes.

(and yes, I'm thinking about doing this with other characters, maybe the freshmen, if a lot of people like and reblog this post.)

I hope you enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day 💝

REAL WORLD CONTEXT: You may already know this, but Valentine's Day in Japan is different than in Western countries. In Japan (from what I know and have researched) this day is not exclusively related to romantic love but also to friendship or simple connections between schoolmates or work colleagues.

Just like in the West, it is marked by the gifting of chocolate, but the quality of the chocolate differs: If it's a boss or colleague you're not friends with, they're usually cheaper, more common chocolates. The quality and even price of the chocolate increases according to the relationship with the person to whom it is offered. And a chocolate made by the person themselves is the most valuable of all and is usually, from what I understand, almost like a confession of love.

On Valentine's Day, it is women who offer chocolates to men, but in this case I just kept the logic of chocolates and excluded the gender thing.

Another thing is that since it is normal to give chocolates to friends as well, it becomes more discreet to give more special chocolates to a certain person and it doesn't draw attention to simply give chocolate to someone.

NOTE: Thaumarks would be the equivalent of US dollars.

The rules are clear: the quality of the chocolate represents the quality and importance of the relationship between the giver and the person to whom it is given. And a chocolate made by the giver is the most valuable of all. Which meant he could buy chocolates for his schoolmates, but not for you!

According to the rules and analyzing what he felt for you, your chocolate MUST be made by him and it had to be perfect! Or as close to perfection as he could get.

He has no shame, nor does he think twice before asking Trey for help. He had that smile of someone who wants to mess with him a little the entire time, but knows that wouldn't be a good idea... Okay, maybe just a little comment to see how he would react.

“So... homemade chocolate for (Y/N).” He said as they waited for the chocolate to melt and Riddle prepared the molds.

Riddle continued with what he was doing, but he had blushed a little.

“Those are the rules.” he replies. "The quality of the chocolate should represent how the giver sees the person to whom it is given.”

“I know. I just never thought I'd see you making this kind of chocolate so soon.”

Riddle did not respond, probably because he thought the same thing.

What Riddle didn't know, because it was supposed to be a surprise too, was that you were also making chocolates for him. You made chocolate dipped strawberries. Knowing that Strawberry Tarts are his favorite food, this seemed like the best choice for Valentine's Day chocolates. Once they were ready, you placed them in a red box that you had bought at Sam's Mystery Shop and finished by tying the box with a bow.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you are preparing the boxes of chocolates to give to the Heartslabyul boys when there is a knock on your door. You open it and find Riddle with his hands behind his back.

“Good morning, (Y/N). I believe you know what day it is today.”

You confirm and say that you were just preparing the chocolates to take to his dorm.

“Oh, that's a coincidence. Because I came here to offer you mine too.” He takes his hand from behind his back revealing a beautiful heart-shaped box with golden designs. “And...” in the other, a small bouquet of roses. He's blushing just a little bit

You take the box and the bouquet, and Riddle smiles when he sees your reaction. But before you open it, you remember and go to the bag where your chocolates were and take out his box and offer it to him. He wasn't surprised that you gave him chocolates, but he was a little when he saw that the box wasn't from any brand. You also take the opportunity to place the roses on the entrance table so you can open the box.

When you take the lid off you see several heart shaped chocolates with your favorite toppings, however, some of the hearts were a little bit crooked and some of the designs on the hearts seemed to have gone slightly wrong. You ask if he made them, unable to contain a small chuckle.

“Y-yes.” he sulks a little seeing you laugh. “I picked the ones that looked best... the first ones burned.”

You taste one of them and feel your favorite filling on your tongue. You say it's very good and Riddle can't contain that sweet smile of his.

“Truly? I... I am so glad!”

And then he remembers the box you gave him. He opens it and sees the chocolate covered strawberries. You say that since he liked strawberry tart so much you thought he would like them. He looks at the strawberries with a sparkle in his eyes, picks one up and tastes it before giving you a cute smile again.

“It's incredible how something so simple can taste so good.” he tells you “So... were they made by you too?” You confirm, but then he asks: “You... did you also make chocolates for the others?” he seemed ashamed to ask that.

You say no, that those were the only ones you made, all the others were bought.

“Really?!” he says smiling, but then immediately clears his throat to assume his usual posture again.

However, he realized what it means, that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you, and it made him chuckle. He holds your free hand, while the other still holds the box of chocolates, gets closer to you and kisses your cheek gently.

“You said you were preparing to go to Heartslabyul.” He tells you with a tender look, as if he can finally look at you the way he wants and you deserve. “Allow me to escort you there then. And I insist on helping you carry the boxes.”

He will take you to Heartslabyul with your arm intertwined with his like a gentleman, while his other arm carries the bag with the chocolates that you will offer to your friends.

Ace and Deuce will argue and compete because they both bought you the exact same box of chocolates that were your favorite. Cater bought you the cutest chocolates he could find and wanted to take a picture of the two boxes together, the one you gave him and the one he gave you. Trey says he wished he had made the chocolates himself but, you know, rules and possible misunderstandings to be avoided, so he ended up buying some chocolates that he also liked as a sort of sharing of favorites.

Regardless of whether you would get chocolates back or not, you bought chocolates for Jack and Ruggie, and you wanted to follow the "rules" and make the chocolates for Leona yourself. But what chocolate would he like? He loves meat, but this doesn't help much. Or maybe it does... you search on the internet for chocolates for meat lovers and see what you can find.

But you didn't find anything, or at least nothing that didn't also involve wine. However, you noticed that dark chocolate was the most used, if not the only one, so you decided to use it and make the famous, perhaps even cliché, heart-shaped chocolates. Once they're done, you put them in the yellow box you bought at the Mystery Shop.

On Valentine's Day, you prepare everything to go deliver the chocolates to Savanaclaw.

Of course Jack also bought you chocolates, your favorite ones by the way. He struggled to keep his tail still when he saw how happy you were and the chocolates you gave him.

Ruggie seemed... struggling to give you the chocolates he had bought for you. He would have liked to have bought the cheaper chocolate, but he didn't want to give you a chocolate that meant you were nothing to him. So he had to spend a little more money and that was what was hurting him. However, his pain was eased by your chocolates.

Leona wasn't with them, so he could only be in his room. You go there and knock on the door.

“What?” You hear Leona's voice on the other side.

You open the door and enter his room. It's no surprise to see him lying in bed as if he had just woken up from a nap. He looks at you with his hands behind his head and smirks.

“Oh, yeah, did you come here to deliver your friendship sweets?” he says mockingly.

“Actually, yes.” you answer, walk towards him and stretch out your arm, handing him the yellow box. “This one is for you.”

He glances sideways at the box for a second, but then lifts his torso and sits up on the bed. He picks up the box and opens it to find dark chocolate hearts. You tell him that you tried to find some kind of recipe with meat but didn't find much. However it seemed like dark chocolate was the best one to pair with meat so that's why you chose it.

“So, you're saying that you did these little things?” Leona picks up one of the chocolates with a smug grin on his face. “Let's see how you did then. I must remind you that my palate is quite delicate.” He takes a bite and seems to enjoy the chocolate, but doesn't say anything.

Instead, he puts the box on the bed, gets up and seems to walk away from you. But then you notice that he's walking over to a chair in the corner of the room covered in clothes. He lazily removes one of the pieces of clothing from the seat and reaches for the white box that was hidden underneath. He comes back and hands you the box.

“Good enough. Here's your prize.”

You take the box and look at it. It’s white with gold details, texture and embossing. It's also relatively heavy for a box of chocolate, and thick. You don't even recognize that brand. Leona laugh at your reaction.

“You've definitely never seen one of these.”

You can't open the box with only one hand, you had to put it on Leona's bed to be able to open it with both hands. He complained like you expected him to, but then he just sat there watching you open the box and see what was inside, while eating more of your chocolates like they were snacks.

You open it, and inside the white box there is a wooden box. You remove the wooden box and see another wooden thing, like a square plate, with a kind of small wooden tongs. Leona is amused by your reaction. You took this out of the white box too, underneath is a booklet, and underneath that, there's a brochure. And after that there finally seems to be nothing left to take out.

“If you're wondering which one is the chocolate, it's the wooden box.” He points to the first thing you took out of the box and take another chocolate of yours to eat.

You pick up the wooden box with a little golden square on the lid and opens it. You pick up a large square wrapped in gold paper. At the bottom of the box, in a smaller diamond-shaped hole with a single cocoa bean.

“That is chocolate.” Leona casually pointed to the large square wrapped in gold paper.

You decide to see what that wooden thing with the tongs was before that. You pick it up, take the tongs off the top and remove the paper it was holding, revealing a gold square with engravings and what looks like a wooden frame around it. You read the title on the sheet of paper: “Testing utensil and plate.” And realizes that these are basically instructions on how to taste the chocolate using tongs and putting it on the golden plate.

You finally decide to search for those chocolates on the internet and you only had to type the name of the brand to see that the first result was: ‘The most expensive chocolate in Twisted Wonderland’. You found that same box and discovered that it cost almost 500 thaumarks. Leona just laughs at your shocked face.

Before you could say anything, maybe even say that you couldn't accept a chocolate like that, Leona takes the golden square and unwraps it, revealing the chocolate, which by the color seems to be your favorite. He breaks one of the triangles that formed the square and places it in front of your lips.

“Go on.” He smirks. “Open your mouth and say what you wanted to say.”

You open your mouth, but instead of talking you take a bite of the chocolate, as he wanted you to do. And it's incredible! He puts the rest of that piece of chocolate on top of the golden plate.

Knowing that the handmade chocolates were an “I love you” message, Leona felt completely confident in doing what he did next. As you were standing, he also stood up, put one of his hands on your waist and pulled you against him to kiss you.

You already kind of knew that it was possible to receive some kind of chocolate from Azul. This tradition can also be seen as a way of strengthening ties or showing respect for colleagues. He would not miss the opportunity to be “generous” to certain people whom he may or may not have selected as people of interest.

But no matter what kind of chocolate he would give you, you wanted to follow the rules and make yourself his chocolate.

You weren't sure which type of chocolate he would like best, so you decided to make a few of each, some dark chocolate, some milk chocolate, and some white chocolate. ‘By chance’, Sam had some molds for sale that you could use to make chocolates in sea-themed shapes like shells, seahorses, starfish, crabs, etc. One of the molds was even of a cute little octopus. You also bought a beautiful lavender box to put the chocolates in.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you were preparing the chocolates to give to the Octavinelle boys when someone knocked on your door.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” Azul greets you with his charming smile and his hands behind his back. “Were you getting ready to go out? I hope I'm not taking up too much of your time. I'm sure you have a lot of chocolates to deliver today, knowing how many acquaintances you've made at this school. But let me be the first to present you.” He takes his hands from behind his back revealing a beautiful lavender box with the Mostro Lounge logo in silver.

He must have prepared several boxes of that for his... acquaintances (clients) as well. But you accept the box anyway and take the opportunity to give him yours. Azul doesn't seem too surprised that you give him chocolates too, but he is when he sees that there is no brand on the box. You open your boxes at the same time to see... the same chocolates, the exact same shapes.

“Have you also-” You two start saying at the same time and then stop when you realize you're talking over each other.

“The molds in Sam's mystery shop.” Azul continued with a sweet tone. “You bought them too. So... that means...”

“These chocolates.” You say. “Were they made by you?”

“Yes, they were!” He smiles proudly. “Please, go ahead to taste them. Tell me what you think.”

You can see he used your favorite type of chocolate. You pick up one of the chocolates, take a bite and discover that it has your favorite filling. He can see that you loved it by your face, but he wants to hear your words and you only increase his pride with them.

You then ask him to try your chocolates. You confess that you didn't really know which one would be his favorite so you made some of each type. This makes him chuckle.

“Don't worry, they all look delicious. Let's see if the same applies to the taste, shall we?” He smirks before taking one of the chocolates to his mouth and biting into it.

He looked surprisingly intrigued and you didn't know what that meant. So you ask him if there's something wrong with the chocolates.

“No, that's not it. Your chocolates are very simple, without any special filling or anything that improves the original flavor of the ready-made chocolate. So why...? Why does it taste so good if it's nothing special? Did you use something that my taste buds aren't detecting?”

It was wierd, Azul almost seemed insulted, like you were tricking him somehow. Or like he wanted to figure out the logical explanation for that flavor. You say you only followed a recipe and seeing that he seemed dissatisfied with this explanation you say that people say that something made with love tastes better.

“Don't be ridiculous." He says despite starting to blush a little. “Feelings do not change a well-made recipe or a cook's skills. It might make them lazier and less willing to do things properly." he says, clearly thinking of a certain someone. "But it doesn't suddenly make someone an extraordinary cook. That's not how it works. It doesn't make sense."

And then his subtle indignation gives way to a quite seductive smile.

“Maybe I should see how you do them to find out your secret. And in return, I can teach you how to make the fillings and stuff them. What do you think? Cooking together and teaching each other.” He gets closer to you and tilts your head with a gentle finger on your chin. “Doesn't that sound like a good deal, my dear?”

After this you tell him that you were preparing to go to Octavinelle to offer him, Jade and Floyd the chocolates. There was still the boxes to be delivered to the twins.

“Oh, I wonder what you got for them.”

You say that for Jade you found some mushroom-shaped chocolates and for Floyd you bought some that said they all had different flavors but didn't say which ones, you realized that it was one of those sweets that you only find out if you were lucky or not with the flavor after tasting it.

Azul's mood seemed to improve when you said you had bought the chocolates and not made them. He also highlighted your excellent ability to choose gifts and added that you could be an excellent... business colleague. He liked the idea of a special personal assistant. He will accompany you to Octavinelle and insist on carrying him your gifts.

Jade loved the chocolates you chose for him, although it's hard to be sure even with all those smooth talking praises. For you, he asked his parents to send him some special Coral Sea chocolates. Azul asks you to examine that box and doesn't even hide his distrust towards Jade, who appears theatrically sad. He recognizes those chocolates with the box still sealed and knows that there is nothing wrong with those, so he returns them to you with more peace of mind.

Floyd was a little put off at first because the chocolates looked boring, but he soon became interested when you told him about the surprise flavors. He tried one that he said tasted like octopus and started laughing with great amusement. For you he bought shrimp-shaped chocolates and commented something about finding it funny to see it as a kind of cannibalism.

Kalim would definitely give you chocolates, but you had no way of knowing if Jamil would do the same. You already know how reluctant he is to call someone a friend, let alone give someone chocolates, that is not out of pure politeness, on a day like Valentine's. But either way you wanted to follow the rules and offer him chocolates made by you.

You weren't sure which type of chocolate he would like best, so you decided to make a few of each, some dark chocolate, some milk chocolate, and some white chocolate. But you didn't want to make just boring chocolate hearts. However, you didn't know if there was any filling he liked with the chocolates, so at Sam's Mystery Shop you try to find at least pretty molds. And you found heart molds with beautiful line art. That, and a pretty dark red box with a golden bow.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you were preparing the boxes of chocolates to take to the Scarabia boys, but they were faster than you.

“GOOD MORNING (Y/N)!” Kalim greets you enthusiastically when you open the door after hearing the knock on it. “Happy Valentine's Day!” He stretches out his arms with a huge smile and a huge basket of chocolates. It even had a heart-shaped balloon tied to it.

You need both hands to pick up the basket. You try to tell him that he didn't need to offer you so much, in fact he didn't need to offer you anything, but all that...

“Don't worry. I love giving gifts to my friends! And it's okay if you can't eat them all before the expiration date, I'm sure Grim can help you with that. There's enough for both of you in there. Hahaha.”

“Or at least we hope it's enough for both of you.” Jamil comments behind him. “Be careful Grim doesn't steal them all from you. And I'm sure Kalim would love to spend a little more time with you, but he has to go deliver the rest chocolates.” He frowns wearily and helplessly.

You can only imagine how many chocolates someone who treats practically everyone as a friend has to give away. But you ask them to wait just one more minute. You put the basket on the table in the hallway, take the one of the chocolate boxes you were preparing to take with you and hand it to Kalim.

Just like the chocolates he gave you, yours were also bought, except the brand you bought was much cheaper. But none of that mattered to Kalim, he was thrilled just because you gave him chocolate at all. But then he remembers and looks back at Jamil.

“We’ll open them in the dorm.” Jamil says. “I'll just try one and you can eat the rest. I know (Y/N) is trustworthy.”

Kalim celebrates and thanks him for allowing him to eat the chocolates. You wait for them to turn their backs to call Jamil in a whisper that you knew he would hear and Kalim wouldn't. He turns as Kalim walks to the gate and you hand him the dark red box with the golden bow. He looks at the box in surprise, glances at Kalim and thought quickly. He takes the box and says: “I'll text you.” before he turns and walks towards Kalim with your box in his hands.

If you had given him that box while Kalim was looking, he would have been super curious and happy for Jamil, maybe even started saying that he should offer you a box too and ask about it. And you knew how much Jamil liked to be discreet and not draw Kalim's attention to his affairs.

You had time to go to all the other dorms and deliver your friendship chocolates before he sent you the messages:

“I'm sorry I didn't thank you for the chocolates when you gave them to me. We only just finished delivering Kalim's chocolates, and he went to the Pop Music Club. I wanted to ask you if there would be a possibility of you passing through Scarabia today? I would like to thank you properly.”

You say you can and he asks if it can be in an hour. You don't ask him why, even though you're asking that to yourself, but you say yes and the meeting is set.

At the agreed time you go to Scarabia and you don't even need to tell Jamil that you have arrived, he is already at the doors of the main building waiting for you. And as if that wasn't enough of a surprise, when you approach him he holds out his hand for you to place yours on top and he kisses the back of your hand. He has a charmingly confident smile on his face. He leads you like a gentleman through the dorm hallways.

“I apologize again for being so curt with you when you gave me the box.” He says as you walk with one of your arms intertwined with his. “You truly caught me off guard. I wanted to thank you at that moment, but I was so much more focused on being quick so that Kalim wouldn't... you know... intrude.” That was the least rude way of saying what he really wanted to say.

You ask him what happened after you gave him the chocolates. The box wasn't small, he wouldn't have been able to hide it from Kalim.

“What I expected.” he sighed. “Kalim started making questions right away. But don't worry, you made the right decision by handing me the box when he wasn't looking. I hope he didn't bother you about it though.”

No, Kalim didn't text or call you after that. Jamil discreetly whispered a "excellent" with a somewhat sinister smile. You ask him if he liked the chocolates and tell him that, since you didn't know which was his favorite chocolate, you decided to use them all. He gives you a slight smile.

“I can appreciate them all. When they're done well.” he smirked. “The shape was nice, probably because of the molds you used. The taste... was good enough.”

You look at him a little sadly, or maybe a little sullenly. He laughs.

“They were good.” he says more gently. “But I think you can do better.” The smug smile returns. “Maybe if I teach you a few things? Or if we cook together? I wouldn't mind that. I bet it would be... interesting to be your tutor.” He seems to like the idea, probably because of the hierarchy you would have (in addition to the one you already have).

You arrive at his room and he invites you to come in and sit on his bed.

“My roommate is also at a club meeting.” He explains, as he picks up a box, that didn't look like anything special, from his desk. “Here.” he gives you the box and sits next to you. “I thought about making you chocolates too.” He can't look you in the eyes and tries to hide the blush that was starting to appear on his cheeks. “But... I didn't want to give them to you without knowing... I made these when I got back to Scarabia, after Kalim had gone to the club meeting.” he points to the box on your lap. “I didn't have much time to get a nicer box, sorry.”

You open the box to find several heart-shaped chocolates made with your favorite type of chocolate. But the ones in the middle had letters that, the way they were arranged, formed the phrase “I love you too”.

“You bought the ones you gave to Kalim.” Jamil says, still reluctant to look you in the eyes. “And made the ones you gave me. That's what it means, isn't it? ...Try it.”

You do so and take one of the chocolate hearts, bite into it and discover that it has your favorite filling. As you expected, the flavor is divine and you say this to Jamil when he asks you what you thought of them.

“I haven't tried them yet after they're done. Can I steal one from you?”

You say yes, but instead of his hand going towards the box, it goes towards your face, holds your chin to turn your head towards him and he kisses you.

You knew you were screwed. Vil is demanding about everything and anything. But you also know he can still appreciate someone’s effort and dedication. Even if your chocolates don’t turn out perfectly, which is most likely the case, you know he’ll still be happy with your hard work and thoughtfulness.

Your real problems lie elsewhere: nutrition and healthy ingredients. Your best bet was dark chocolate, it’s the healthiest of all. But you couldn't just make boring plain chocolates, and making them in the shape of a heart wasn't enough. You search for healthy chocolate recipes for Valentine's Day and you find a recipe for dark chocolate with fruits and nuts.

It was a lot of work to remove the seeds from the kumquats, chop the almonds, dry the cherries and do everything as the recipe said, but eventually your heart-shaped chocolates with fruits and nuts were ready on time. You just had to buy the prettiest purple box you could find at Sam's Mystery Shop and a good red bow.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you took your chocolates to Pomefiore to deliver them.

Rook would be happy with any type of chocolate you give him. The simple fact that you give him a box or even just a bag on such a special day makes him beam with joy. And of course he also bought you a box of chocolates, your favorites, by the way. (Regardless of whether you told him which ones they were or not)

The best chocolates you can give Epel are the ones you know he likes but that Vil wouldn't let him eat. Even if Vil found out, it would be rude not to accept such a kind gift, so according to etiquette he would have to accept your gift. The two of you smile mischievously at each other. And yes, of course he also bought you chocolates. He asked his family to send special chocolates typical of Harveston just for you.

All that was left was to deliver the last box to Vil, but before you turned around to go to his room to see if he was there, he was kind enough to appear in the lounge at that moment. The way he walked towards you with his eyes fixed on you and that beautiful discreet smile made you feel like the most special person in the room.

You say he arrived just in time because you were about to go look for him, and you give him the pretty purple box with a red bow. He smiles in satisfaction and pick up the box.

“Well, I can't say I'm surprised to receive another box of chocolates today. And I see that this box is not of any brand. May I then assume that they were made by you?” His smile softens even more when you confirm, but even so he doesn't miss the opportunity to add a little smugness to it. “Well, let's see how you did then?”

Vil opens the box and is actually surprised by what he sees inside. He picks up one of the chocolate hearts and examines it.

“Dark chocolate.” He says in an approving tone. “I see almonds, dried cherries and... are those candied kumquats?” The fruits were what surprised him the most and he looks at you in such a neutrally curious way that you don't know whether he approved of those chocolates or not.

You tell him that you know how much he values his good nutrition, so you tried to find the healthiest Valentine's chocolate recipe, and that was the recipe you chose. You add that you followed the recipe to the letter as if defending yourself in case he doesn't like it, but at that moment you see his shoulders relax, the smile return and his eyes look at you with affection.

“You aren’t the first one to give me handmade chocolates.” he starts saying and looks at your chocolates in his hands. “But you are the first one who knows me well enough to know what I would actually like to receive. Except for Rook, but he's a strange exception. All the other boxes that arrived were of the sweetest and most caloric chocolates imaginable. I understand and appreciate the gesture but...” He looks back at you and gives you a small smile. “They don't really know me, do they?”

He takes a bite of your chocolate and looks serious about tasting it for seconds that feel like minutes to you. You ask how they are and if they taste good, he looks at you seriously and then starts laughing when he sees your worried face.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to mess with you a little. I would like to say that these chocolates are quite good, but to do so I have to add that they are, for the skills of someone who is not a professional cook. I don't think I've ever tried this kind of sweets before. Could you give me the recipe?” and even eats the rest of the chocolate he has in his hand, with an expression of clear delight.

Your instinct tells you that something is going on behind you. You look over and see Epel slightly uncomfortable with the way Rook is looking at you and Vil as if he was watching the most wonderful and touching romantic play in the history of theater. He doesn't say a word as if a single syllable could ruin the moment, and he looks like he wants to burst into tears with emotion.

You feel a gentle hand on the small of your back, you turn your head again and see that it is Vil pulling you slightly to invite you to go with him.

“I can imagine the work it took you to remove the seeds from these kumquats and candied them. Such thoughtfulness and well done hard work deserves a proper reward. Don't you think?”

His gaze alternates between looking at you sweetly and looking at Rook in a subtly threatening way, as if warning him not to snoop around. The same look could be given to any other student who looked at you with the same nosy curiosity.

Vil invites you to go with him to a place, you follow him and you arrive at the door of his room. He looks haughtily at the corridor and sees that no one followed you, or if they did they would be left behind in that same corridor. He invites you in, saying that he also has something for you. After he closes the door behind him, he goes to his desk and picks up a small, beautiful, heart-shaped golden box to give you.

“Seeing me enjoying your chocolates was a spectacle and proof enough of your value to the public.” he says referring to the other Pomefiore students who were in the lounge. “They don't deserve to witness more.”

He makes a gesture encouraging you to open the box and you do so. There were few chocolates, at least compared to the ones you gave him, but not only were they beautifully decorated, they were also made from your favorite type of chocolate. Even if your favorite is the least healthy of all. You look at him in surprise.

“Don't get used to it.” he warns you, raising a finger. “I did less on purpose so as not to be so detrimental to your nutrition.” he pokes your nose gently “This is a rare exception, you hear?”

Even though you know what his answer would be, you ask if he was the one who made them.

“Yes, they look astonishing professional, don't they?” He smiled with the greatest pride, before returning to his regular speech. “I also thought about preparing something nutritious, until I thought about what you would like to receive and not what I would like to give. If I did what I thought was best for you while neglecting your own tastes, it would not only be wrong but an insult. It would be the same as all those fans who offered me chocolates without knowing what I would like or even wanting to try. Those chocolates would convey the message that I like you but I want to mold you into the person I want you to be and that is both a lie and a blasphemy. I want to help you improve of course, but that doesn't mean I don't like who you are now. So I used your favorite chocolates and fillings regardless, but did it in small quantities. However, if you wake up tomorrow with a stomach ache because you ate them all, don't blame me, understood?”

If you hug him he will tell you to be careful so the chocolates don't fall out of the box, but he will hug you back, maybe just more delicately.

You taste one of the beautiful chocolates and they are delicious. The pride on Vil's face only increases when you tell him this. Catching you off guard, he gently holds your chin with his index finger and thumb and gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“This is my thank you for your gift.” he then puts his face right in front of yours, your noses almost touching “And this is my thank you for you.” and he kisses your lips.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Idia tells Ortho. “Me? Cook? For THEM? Do you want them to hate me for giving them food so poorly prepared that it could poison them? Should I check-up you? Your cause-and-effect conclusions seems to be miscalculating things.”

“I don’t detect any abnormality in my data processing.” Ortho guarantees him. “But that's what the rules of Valentine's Day tradition say. And I can even use quotes from your games and mangas to support my argument.”

“OI! Don't use those things against me, it's a low blow! Besides, like you said, those are games and mangas, or even movies, they're not real. Real life is not a fairy tale where you always conveniently fall in love with the right person who feels the same way about you. There is a much greater chance that you will fall in love with someone you don't deserve and end up preferring Prince Charming.”

“So what?”

“W-WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'SO WHAT'?”

“You don't need to declare yourself to them. You just have to offer them chocolates. If the feeling is not mutual, just leave it at that. But I'm sure that (Y/N) will offer you something. Especially knowing how much you like sweets.”

“Oh yeah, sure, it's so much better to receive a friendzone chocolate than nothing at all. It must be the new trend to replace the bucket of ice cream to eat by the spoonful while crying watching a romcom wrapped in a blanket in the middle of the dark.”

“Come on. You know (Y/N), they would appreciate anything you did simply because you tried. They are the type to appreciate the effort and intention more than the end result. I've heard them tell how happy they were with a mere postcard from Malleus Draconia during the winter break.”

“That’s because he's The Malleus Draconia. Anything coming from someone like him is spectacular. Even a curse would be a source of pride for someone to receive simply because he acknowledged their existence.”

While Ortho was trying to convince Idia to At Least Try to make some kind of chocolate for you, you were looking for molds for your chocolates at Sam's Mystery Shop.

And ‘coincidence of coincidences’ Sam had in stock molds in the shape of items from a mobile game that Idea loves. Funny enough, they were also sweets, items for the cards if you're not mistaken. But the problem arose when you saw the price: 130 thaumarks. Sam approached you when he saw your certainty in wanting to buy that item turn into doubt and consideration.

You told him you wanted to buy that, but it was too expensive for your tight budget. So, knowing that you're a trustworthy little imp, he lets you pay what you can for it and work a day or two at the store until you can pay the rest. But he wouldn't need you anytime soon, he'll tell you when he does. You accept the deal and get the molds in addition to the ingredients and the bright blue box with a black bow.

Knowing that he loves sweets, you decide to use white chocolate and milk chocolate. And you made a lot of them, enough to fill the box almost to its limit.

Meanwhile, the only way Ortho found to convince Idia to get you chocolates was by suggesting that he make some and buy others and wait to see if you would give him chocolates and what kind. If you gave him friendship chocolates, he would give you the box he bought; if you gave him chocolates you made yourself (as if), he would give you the ones he made... and the ones he bought too. “I'm terrible at cooking. It's better to play it safe if they come out inedible.”

The next day, Valentine's Day, you take your gifts to go to Ignihyde to deliver them to the Shroud brothers.

You give Ortho a cute heart-shaped power back. You tell him that you would like to give him chocolates too, but since he doesn't eat you try to find something equivalent. And even if it's not a very good charger, it's still a cute decoration. Ortho completely agrees with you and is very happy that you put so much thought into his gift. He gives you chocolate in return, a box of your favorites.

Idia is nowhere to be seen, but Ortho knows you know where to find him. You go to his bedroom door and knock on it. The door opens for you. As you might expect, he is sitting in front of his computer. He pauses the game he was playing, takes off his headphones and turns his chair to look at you.

“Hey, um, you don't need to give me chocolates out of pity if that's the case. I don't need to get something just because my brother received a gift.”

You assure him that it's not out of pity, it's because you really wanted to give him those chocolates.

“I hope you didn't spend too much. I don't want you to regret it to much.”

"I may have spent a little more than I expected," you admit, handing him the box and placing it on his lap. "But I'll be keeping the molds.”

“Molds?! You didn't actually...” He stops to first check if what he thought you had done was true.

He opens the box and it takes him a few seconds to analyze those shapes well. You are startled to see him jump out of his chair.

“THESE ARE GROOVY SWEETS! Where did you found them? Wait! You said you found molds? I didn't even know there were molds to make them! How much did it cost? This game is quite niche, it must not have been easy to find. Or cheap.”

You say finding them was easy because you simply saw them in Sam's Mystery Shop and recognized the shapes and the game logo. Idia asks you about the price again and you try to change the subject until he says that if you don't tell him he'll look it up online. And you finally tell him the price.

“And isn't that a little tight for you?” He doesn't seem the least bit surprised by the price. “I mean, the money you have comes from the headmage as far as I know, right? And I don't think he gives you much more than the bare minimum.”

You tell him about the deal with Sam.

“WHAT?! Oh, No! You won't get into debt because of me!” He says determined “I'll send Sam all the money you spent and what's left to pay for the molds. And if you don't tell me how much it was, I'll just send him, like, I don't know, a 500 thaumarks or something and you can buy whatever you want with what's left.”

You say he doesn't need to exaggerate so much, you could even accept him paying for the molds for you, but the rest was ridiculous.

“Hey, I may not be a prince but my family is still quite wealthy, you know.” he says with a smug, which then turns into his cute smile. “You must have had so much work making them, let me at least help with the expenses.” the smug returns “You know I'm going to send him the money no matter what you say right?”

You sigh a ‘Fine’ and ask if he could finally taste the chocolates. He takes one of the white chocolates and bites it. You even say that you thought about putting something else in them, but you didn't know what, however it seems that this wasn’t necessary. He was eating the chocolate with such a cute smile, and the ends of his hair started to turn a slightly pink.

“Did you try them after they were done?” he asks.

You say you ate the first one you made to taste test it, but not the ones you gave him. He takes another one and brings it to your lips for you to eat. You open your mouth and grab the chocolate, it was good, but what you liked most was the fact that he fed it to you. After this episode of confidence, he becomes embarrassed again.

“I... um...” he then proceeds to speak in the speed of light. “Ortho made me make chocolates for you because it was like the rules of tradition or whatever but you don't need to eat them they definitely suck. B-b-but I bought better ones for you.” he picks up a relatively large box and returns to speaking at a more intelligible speed. “I bought the biggest box of your favorite chocolates they've ever sold.”

You accept the box, but still ask what he said about making chocolates for you.

“What? How can you still understand what I say at that speed? Don't tell me you're one of those people who puts a video on x2 speed or something.” You look at him disapprovingly, showing that you know he's trying to change the subject again. He sighs. “Listen, I know the rules are that when you... really... like... someone you should make the chocolates yourself, just like... you... did. But what does it matter how or who does them, what matters is whether they taste good or not, right? It all ends in the same place anyway.”

“So... these chocolates,” you point to the box you gave him “or any others would be the same to you?”

“Wait! No! That's not what I meant! T-t-the ones you made n-needed to be made, t-they can't be bought.”

“So, would you prefer if I had bought them? Surely they would be better made by a professional, right?”

“N-n-no! You are distorting what I... No, actually, that's exactly what I said... B-b-but that does NOT apply here, not to you, I just... I SUCK AT COOKING, OKAY!? I didn't want to give you something ugly, poorly made and with horrible taste. But fine! If that's what you want!” He goes to the closet and takes out a pink heart-shaped box to give it to you. “You can have it. Don't say I didn't try to warn you.”

You pick up the box and open it to find cute hearts made with your favorite type of chocolate with sprinkles on top. They didn't look bad, they even looked well made. You pick one up and taste it, and it tastes good to you. You actually liked it and tell him that.

“Y-you actually enjoyed that amateurish attempt at cooking? You feeling okay? Are your taste buds buggy? You don't need to say that just to be nice, you know?”

You assure him that you're not just being nice, that you really liked it. Of course they could be better, just like yours could be too. Maybe you should try doing them together sometime?

“First Ortho makes me cook and now you? Do you really like me or just like to see me suffer?”

He insists that you keep the ones he bought too because they were for you anyway. If you give him a kiss on the cheek to thank him he will get all flustered and the ends of his hair will turn bright pink.

You knew very well what kind of chocolates you wanted to make for Malleus: ice cream! But you didn't want to offer him a bowl of ice cream, so you search the internet to see if there was any type of Valentine's Day chocolate that involves ice cream and you find the ice cream bonbons, which are basically balls of ice cream, covered in chocolate.

The recipe you found was for vanilla and chocolate ice creams, which also seemed like the safest choices. You don't make a lot, but you can still make several of each type of chocolate and decorate them with white sprinkles on the dark and milk chocolate ones and rainbow sprinkles on the white chocolate ones.

Unfortunately, since they are cold sweets, you can't put them in a normal box, so you put them in a container and store them in the fridge.

The next day, Valentine's Day, you wonder how you're going to get those chocolates to Malleus. You don't want to ruin them and you're afraid it could take so long to find him that the chocolates will start to melt even if you use a container designed for cold food. At that moment, someone knocks on your door.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” Malleus greets you when you open the door. “Happy Valentine's Day. I hope you had a good night's sleep. I'm here to fulfill the tradition of offering chocolates to my loved ones.” He snaps his fingers and a beautiful black heart-shaped box with a translucent green bow appears floating.

Malleus takes the box and hands it to you with a slight but sincere smile. As you pick up the box and thank him, you remember that ever since you woke up you were almost certain to hear movement outside Ramshackle Dorm. And that's why you ask Malleus if he was there for a long time.

“I will not hide the fact that I arrived before you woke up, but it has not been that long. Only two or three hours perhaps?”

He tells you it's no problem, for him it's not that long, but you still invite him in since he's been out there for so long to you. The two of you sit on the lounge sofa and Malleus can't take his eyes off you, he's so eager for you to open the box. When you finally do, you find beautiful hearts of your favorite chocolate with detailed and delicate line art. Malleus was so happy with your reaction, especially if you say you feel sorry for eating them because they are so beautiful.

“Im glad you enjoyed the presentation so much.” he says with an amused smile. “But please do not let that stop you from consuming them. Unfortunately, their edibility is ephemeral, so don’t let your desire to appreciate its exterior prevent you from savoring its interior and appreciating it in its entirety. Furthermore, I truly wish to know your opinion about my cooking.”

“You were the one who made them?” you ask.

“Yes, it was I.” he confirms with a proud smile. “That is why I'm rather looking forward to hearing your thoughts.”

You take one of the chocolate hearts and bite into it to taste your favorite filling too. It was delicious and Malleus couldn't have been happier about it. Then you remember your chocolates and get up to get them without telling him what you were going to do in the kitchen. You return with a modest-looking container for cold food in your hands and sit down next to him again.

You apologize for not having a box as pretty as the one he gave you and explain that you didn't know how you were going to get those chocolates to him since they had to be kept cold.

“There is no need to worry about that.” he reassures you with a loving smile. “I completely understand your dilemma. Fortunately, you needn't to think about that anymore for I am already here.”

He gladly accepts the container and opens it.

“They certainly look lovely” he says, smiling. “Am I right in concluding that your container dilemma indicates that you made them?” When he sees you confirm, his smile grows and becomes even more affectionate. “From the looks of it alone you seem to have done an excellent work. I'm looking forward to trying them.”

He carefully picks up one of the chocolates and bites into it, his eyes widen when he realized what the inside was.

“Ice cream...” he mutters to himself with a charming smile and then looks at you lovingly. “Is this why you had trouble figuring out a way to preserve them while transporting them? You focused so much on doing something to my liking that you ended up neglecting the logistical aspect.”

You confirm and he laughs heartily.

“I believe you are as aware of the rules of this tradition as I am.” his smile becomes seductive. “Chocolate made by one's hands should be a declaration of love, shall it not?” He takes your reaction as a confirmation.

He caresses your face before giving you a delicate, loving kiss on the cheek. You look at him and see his lime green eyes shining with the most love there could be.

After that he will offer to accompany you to Diasomnia so you can deliver your chocolates to the others. He will never leave your side again and will find any excuse to get so close to you that he will respectfully put his arm around your shoulder or waist.

Silver is too oblivious to realize what's happening between you and Malleus. As for the chocolates, he doesn't give you your favorites because he doesn't know which they were, but he gives you the ones he genuinely thought and hoped you would like. And even if they weren't your favorites, they were ones you really liked.

Lilia will have that smile every time he looks at you two and will try to mess with you a little. As for the chocolates, he said he would have liked to have made your chocolates himself but, you know, rules and misunderstandings to be avoided. (For a moment you shared Riddle's adoration for rules) So he offers you the most beautiful chocolates of your favorite type that he could find.

Sebek will enter into an internal conflict because he doesn't know whether to be jealous of you or happy for his liege. As for the chocolates, he doesn't give you anything too fancy, the chocolates even seem quite simple and basic, but “coincidentally” they are your favorite type and with your favorite filling too.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

*Sorry for the Cook Leona kinda bait, but let's be real, he would never even try to cook for anyone, not even himself, haha. Also, he is fully aware that he is terrible at cooking and he didn't want to give you poorly made chocolates when he could buy the best ones out there.

Did this get too long? Sorry 😣

[tonixe]

mine ౨ৎ

A/N: I'm back, yeah I know. I've been out for a few months or years idk. I wanted to write this, cuz I love dad!kento, also this been in my mind rent-free, and just hell yeah. Also happy Valentine's Day, and sorry for the late submission, but this was part of my Valentine's book/smutbook on Wattpadd/a03 so just a cross-post.

WARNING: p in the v, oral sex, cursing, no condom we fuck raw, cunnilingus, not proofread lmao...

PAIRING: nanami kento x reader

WORD COUNTER: 3135

Every morning, it was the same routine just like before, children laughing at the scent of heavily waxed crayons and baby wipes in the air, and the occasional wail from reluctant toddlers and kids. You have gotten so used to the chaos of kids, the rush of parents dropping their kids off before heading off to work,

"Look Miss. L/N—do you like the picture I drew!" you turned your head to see one of the toddlers, standing right beside you showing a picture they drew. You smiled, patting their head, 

"This looks so good, I'll make sure to hang this on the bulletin board," you said, crouching down to take hold of the drawing, the toddler smiled, as they ran back to the other kids exclaiming about how her drawing got to the bulletin board.

Yeah, it was the usual for you, working at the daycare. You readjusted your pastel yellow colored apron, and your hair in a ponytail so it doesn't get in your face, it takes a bunch of energy to take care of these kids filled with energy all day, the sound of footsteps echoed through the sound of yelling kids, you turned to see 

Him.

Yuuji's dad

The moment he walked it, it made your heart beat faster, feeling your cheeks heating up. You were in a quiet panic, you tell yourself it's just another parent, and just another kid check—all a part of your routine, you breathed. Usually, he always on-time, greeting you with a smile—like he was happy to see you. Maybe it's the way he take an extra moment to ask about Yuji's dad, that made you feel some type of way—or the way his deep voice makes your stomach flutter just a little too much.

But today, he was running late. He was a little disheveled, his green, polka-dot tie was loosened, and his blonde hair tousled like his finger was through it a little too many times. He's holding Yuji's tiny backpack in his right as his other freehand is holding onto his hand, the little boy skipping alongside him.

"Mr. Nanami" you called out, a smile on your face,

"Sorry for the rush," he says, his voice a little breathless as he steps up to you, "Mornings are always something different with him.." he gestures to Yuuji who was practically waiting to be free to run around.

You let out a little laugh, crouching down to Yuuji, whose attention was on you, "Did you give your dad some trouble?" you asked, teasing him.

You watched as Yuuji shook his head furiously, laughing a little bit.

"No! I just made him chase me around" he confessed, with a cheeky smile on his lips. You looked at Nanami, who just sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, and making you blush.

"He's not wrong" he admits, "he has speed—think I got to start training if I want to keep up with him"

You bit your lip, trying to suppress another smile, "Oh!—I'll take this" You took hold of Yuuji's backpack, and you felt Nanami's finger brushing against yours—the sensation of skin against skin made you freeze for a moment, it just send a sudden spark thorough you. 

The warmth of his hand is gone, as quick as it came as you had Yuuji's backpack in hand, your gaze flickered to him but he was looking directly at you. It wasn't a casual glance, not an accidental meeting of eyes—what were you even talking about, 

You cleared your throat, focusing back on Yuuji, "Alright, Yuji! You ready for a fun day" You smiled at him, and the pink-haired kid nodded enthusiastically, 

You stood up, as Nanami let out a small sigh, and ruffled Yuuji's hair, "Be good today, okay?" He patted Yuuji,

"I will, papa!" 

You watched as Yuuji started running into the play area, "You're really great with him, you know" You turned your attention to Nanami, his voice was softer but still deep. You fl your cheek heating up,  as you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, "He's a great kid" you smiled.

He exhaled, for a small chuckle, "Yeah...he is—but I appreciate you looking out for him" he said, you nodded with a smile, turning a glance at Yuuji already playing with the other kids, 

"It's no problem," you said,  "it's actually my pleasure to have him with me"

He nods, taking a step backward, his attention now on his watch that was on his wrist, "Shoot—I have to go, I'll be a little late, picking Yuuji up"

"Okay!" you nodded, as you watched him leave out of the door, you tried to shake off the warmth that was still lingering from that one moment of fleeting touch, you started walking to the cubby as you put Yuuji's backpack in his cubby, 

𝜗𝜚

For the rest of the morning, you tried to shake off the lingering feeling from that brief touch, it clung onto you like so stubborn thought,—you couldn't let go of it. You were focused on your task—helping the kids with the art projects, cleaning up the paint spills, and singing songs during circle time. Suddenly, you felt Yuuji tugging at your sleeve, making you turn to him. 

"Miss L/N," he asked, tilting his head, you blinked down at him, "Yeah, Yuuji"

He grins after getting your attention, "My papa, thinks you're really nice.

You felt your stomach flipping, your breath hitched as you processed his words, before letting out a small laugh, a nervous one. "Oh? And how do you know that?" you asked, cocking your eyebrows.

"Cause he say so" Yuuji shrugs, completely unaware of the way his words send your heart into overdrive, "—And-and, one time, he said, 'Miss L/N, is really good with you, and I said yeah! And he smiled really big" 

Your breath caught slightly, "Well, I think your papa is really nice too"  you confessed, patting his head, you watched as he beamed, satisfied with your answer before he ran off again to join his friends at the craft table. Meanwhile, you were just crouching down gripping the stack of construction paper, realizing what JUST HAPPEN.

He talks about you...

You knew him to be polite, and kind—and always took an interest in his son's care, but the fact he brought you up in the conversation made your heart pang, even with the passing remark, made something warm bloom up in your chest.

As the day dragged on, parents started trickling into the daycare for pickup. Your eyes darted to the door as you helped give the parents their kid's backpack, you won't lie that you were waiting for him to show up, but it was going too late

And then, he walks in.

This time he wasn't rushed, his tie was still loosened even more, and you were able to see a little bit of his chest. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his strong forearms that you definitely shouldn't be looking at—but everything about made your ovaries go crazy.

He had a small, tired small on his face as he spots you with Yuuji, sitting on one of the colorful tables coloring.

You stood up, walking towards Nanami, 

"Hey," he says, his warm, deep voice made you even smile more.

"Hi," you reply, and you curse yourself for how breathless you were, then Yuuji runs straight to his father, hugging him tightly, "Papa!"

"Hey, buddy" Nanami chuckles, ruffling his hair, "Did you have a good day today?" he asked,

Yuuji nods excitedly, "Uh-huh! We painted and played outside, and Miss L/N made us animal-shaped snacks"

"Animal-shaped snacks, huh" Nanami looked up at you, and you shrugged, feigning nonchalance, "What can I say, the kids love it," you said, laughing—a deep, rich..genuine sound that made your knees weak. "That's impressive, I could barely cut yuuji's sandwiches into triangles without messing it up"

"Well,—if you ever need tips on some snack artistry, I'm your girl," you said, before you even fully processed your words, you were clearly flirting with him, but your words were already out, you watched him as he smirked.

"I'll keep that in mind"

Some silence came after, but it was all as long as it came. It was replaced by the familiar rush of parents coming in to get their kids. You stepped back, offering a small smile, "Well, you heard from him, Yuuji had a great day. I'll see you both tomorrow" You pointed at them, with a smile.

Nanami hesitates for a moment, "Yeah..tomorrow" but before he turns to leave, he pauses for a moment like he wants to say something else. He glances down at yuuji, who's busy putting on his backpack, then back at you, 

"By the way..I was wondering...do you—" 

"PAPA, CAN WE GET ICE CREAM..PLEASE!!" Yuuji suddenly yells, catching you off-guard, and interrupting whatever is about to be said.  You laughed as Nanami let out an exaggerated sigh, ruffling his hair, "Sure"

You watched as Yuuji tugged his dad's hand, as you stood there, —wait what was he going to say to you? Nanami glances back at you, his lips twitching before sighing dramatically, "Guess we lost this round" he says, looking at Yuuji, "but maybe next time"

Your breath hitches before you can respond, and he just winks at you, leaving you speechless, breathless,—oh my gosh, you were just grinning like a idiot.

𝜗𝜚

The next morning, you were typing the back of your apron, as you tell yourself not to get your hopes up again, maybe last night was just a playful teasing, nothing serious—just friendly chit-chat.

But the way he hesitated before leaving, the way he said, 'maybe next time', the way he winked—it all replays in your head as you prep the daycare, wiping down the table with wipes.  You shook your head, trying to push away your thoughts—you were at work, just another day, nothing special.

With the sound of the door opening, you turned your head to see Nanami walking into the daycare.

He wasn't wearing his usual collar shirt with a tie, instead, he was wearing a light brown sweater, and his hair was slightly messier. Yuuji was bouncing excitedly beside him, but Nanami's eyes were still on you,

"Morning," he says, his voice was smoother than usual.

"Good morning" you reply, forcing yourself to sound normal, even though your heart was still racing, yuuji let go of his dad's hand, and started to run to the toy corner, leaving you too alone. Nanami exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, "So...about yesterday"

'yesterday?"

Your stomach flips, "What about it?"

He chuckles slightly, shifting on his feet. "I was actually trying to ask you something before someone—" he shoots a playful glare at Noah, who was completely entrance as he played with one of the toy dinosaurs in his hand.

You arch your brows, crossing your arms in mock suspicion, "What were you going to ask" you tilted your head, and he paused, as he thought for a moment, "You're really gonna make me say it, huh?"

You eyes widen for a moment, biting your lip, wait—

"I don't know what you mean"

He laughs softly, shaking his head, "I was going to ask...if you like to get dinner with me"

Dinner with Nanami, you felt your heart-stopping.

"Dinner?" your voice almost cracking, 

"Yeah" he says, clearing his throat,

"Like a date?" you asked, his lips curved into a dangerous smirk—the one that makes your knees feel weak, "Yeah, a date."

"Oh..wow, I—uh, wasn't expecting that" 

"Really" he arches a brow, "I expected that Yuuji isn't good at keeping my secrets" You glanced over at Yuuji, who was playing with the dinosaurs, and you shook your head with a grin. "I don't know...I think he's been pretty discreet" You smiled.

Nanami laughs, then exhales softly, "So..what would you say?"

"Yeah, of course" you smiled, feeling your face heating up. His shoulder relaxes, "Great—how about Friday?"

"Friday is perfect" 

"Good" he glances at yuuji then back at you, "I should go—before he accidentally sets something on fire"

"Good idea" you laugh.

"I'll text you"

"Y-yeah" you nodded, as you waved him 'goodbye'.

...

You were staring at your closet, as your clothes were scattered all over your bed, the door wide open, revealing an overwhelming selection, but everything was not—quite right. Too casual, too formal, too boring, too much.  You groaned in frustration, running a hand through your hair, as you pulled up another dress, holding it against yourself in the mirror,

it was an off-shoulder black dress, it was cute, simple, and flattering. 

You looked back at your phone, checking the time, thirty more minutes,

You felt your stomach doing nervous flips, as you became anxious about the date, you didn't know how Nanami had been having a crush on you for the whole time,— the man who somehow makes dropping his kids off at daycare look effortlessly attractive, making your ovaries practically screaming—is the one that asked you out on a date. 

You slip on the press, smoothing the fabric down, as you step into a pair of heels, looking in the mirror. The dress looked good on you, snagging the right parts of your curves. The sound of your phone notifications, you reached for your phone, he was almost here, and your heart was beating against your chest.

...

You walked out of your apartment, to hear the sound of a car pulling up outside making your heart stutter. You peek out the window, and sure enough, he was there. His car—sleek, understate,d and classy, just like him. He steps out, adjusting his tie, and scanning the street before looking at you,

"You look beautiful" he murmurs, a slow warmth spread through your chest as he compliments you. "Thank you" trying to keep your voice light despite your pulse practically racing now, 

You watched as he opened the door for you, the gesture smooth effortless, like second nature. You slide in, as he rounds the car to get himself inside, allowing you to have a moment to breathe, you look in the sideview mirror, giving yourself another look before he gets in.

You were going to have him for the whole night—and you were so ready.

.

The restaurant was elegant, but not too flashy—refined, intimate, the king of place that perfectly suit Nanami perfectly. The soft lighting casts a golden hue over the room, the quiet hum of jazz playing in your background.

It was clear that Nanami made a reservation for this restaurant, everything about him was precise, intentional, and well thought-out. He pulled out a chair before he took a seat at his own chair,

"Is everything alright?" he asked, like a gentleman

You nodded, smiling

"It's perfect"

The waiter hands you both menus, you don't glance at them though, not when Nanami was watching you like that—calm, observant, his gaze steady and searching.

"I have to admit" he began talking after a moment, setting his menu down, "This surprise you said yes"

You blinked for a moment, tilting your head slightly, "And why's that?"

Nanami exhales, rolling his sleeves up just a little, revealing his stronger foreman that you couldn't stop staring at, his finger tapping idly against the table. "You..." you pause, considering your words, 

"You're warm, bright. You make things lighter just by being there"

The compliment is unexpected, a raw in a way you don't often hear from him.

"And I assumed someone like you..would already have a boyfriend..or something"

Your lips parted, his comment catching you off-guard, by the weight of his words, "Well,  you murmur, "I suppose you're lucky I don't" you teased,

Nanami's lips twitched slightly—not quite into a smirk, but something else.

...

But you wouldn't have expected to be here, your dress pulled up as you were bent over for Nanami, feeling his cock being stuffed into you, as you moaned. You half-lidded eyes, as he roamed your body, his rough hands on your waist.

'pap!, pap!, pap!'

the sound of your wet cunt being plunged by Nanami's cock, echoed through the hotel room—it was too much, gosh.

Your clothes or whatever was left of your dress was on the floor, including his, the smell of sex lingering in the air, 

"Hngh.." you moaned, as his hips kept on rolling into you, feeling his cock hitting your cervix, making your eyes roll back. His hips slamming into your ass, with each powerful thrust. You felt yourself clenching down, tightening around his cock.

"Fuck" Nanami curses, 

He leaned down near your ears, his hand roughly grabbing onto your face, "You want me to fuck you harder, don't you" his voice was a low growl, "Want me to shove my cock into your tight—little pussy" you nodded frantic, you just wanted release. His cock just filled you up, feeling a bulge imprinted on your stomach, as he fucked you.

"Y-yes" you whimpered, your body trembling with need. You felt his grip pulling you near him, as you felt his washing board abs on your back.

You didn't know how many orgasms you were through, but your pussy was spent, battered, and bruised from his veiny cock.

 His rough hands cupped your breast, squeezing it gently, making you gasp. Your body arching towards him, as he rolled your sensitive buds between his fingers, your pupils were dilated,

You heard his low chuckle, as "You like that, do you?" his dirty talking making you more arousal, as you clenched down on him,  "S-shit" he groaned, 

His hips rutting against your ass, 

He leaned down, his mouth clamped down on your nipple, his teeth sinking into your tender flesh, and you mewled out. Your body bucking against his body, you felt your body trembling, you were so close, 

"You'll be such a good mommy for yuuji, huh," he said, his hot breath was against your ear, making you mewl, his cock was still fucking into your poor cunt. "Get you pregnant with my kid, and have you at home instead of the daycare"  he groans into your ear, 

You felt your orgasm building, the intensity growing with each passing moment. You moaned loudly, Nanami kept on thrusting into you. His hard cock hits your cervix again, sending shockwaves through your body.  He leaned into you for a rough kiss, as felt his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, moaning against him.

You withdrew, coming up for air, feeling his finger rubbing onto your clit, harshly rubbing on your nub, you felt light-headed from his touches, as you whimpered against his touch,

"Fuck—you feel s' good" he growled, his hips moving faster as he jackhammered you. His rough hands guided you up and down your cock,

"Ken m'so close—"

 you felt the coil in your stomach bursting, as you came down on his cock, clenching down tightly. Crying out in ecstasy, your body trembling from your orgasm, it was intense, feeling the pulse of pleasure radiating through your body.

You were riding out your high, as Nanami groaned in your ear, his cock pushing deep inside of you, filling you up. You felt his hot, gooey cum spurting into your womb, filling you with his hot seed. 

"Haaa..." your eyes practically rolling back as you felt cunt being stuffed, with his cum

"Your so good f' me..baby" he whispered in your ear, 

 so good...

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 8

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: lando makes an appearance in this one. abusive language used, including sexist name calling. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 3.9k words a note: here it is babies!!! the last one in this series. i know it's been different from what i usually write, but this has been so much fun. extra special thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl as usual for beta reading and holding my hand at 2am when i wake up struck by an idea hahaha <3

Aftermath - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Aftermath - Chapter 5 Aftermath - Chapter 6Aftermath - Chapter 7 Master List

madmaxx1 posted

52 likes liked by ferrarisprince16, babyleclercpriv, jadebby, and others madmaxx1 pretty pretty girl ferrarisprince16 hey! so this is insane! >>>artiebartie yeah! stop thirsting over our sister >>>madmaxx1 never babyleclercpriv <3 jadebby god you two are so cute it's gross

missleclerc posted

missleclerc surprise! some new pieces are debuting at @/nessasgallery TONIGHT. I'll be there to discuss this new direction my art is going in along with what (and who) inspired me to try such a drastic new approach to painting. I hope you'll drop by and take a look, it would be lovely to see you! maxverstappen1 does this make me your muse??? >>>charlesleclerc hey! my car is up there right next to you! that means I'm a muse too! >>>missleclerc you two are ridiculous >>>user0298 uhhhhhhhh... user1029 ferrari and red bull without a mclaren in sight. iiiiiiinteresting >>>user1100 i think this is all the breakup confirmation we need user455 oh shes in LOVE LOVE with max >>>user444 oh this is so messy. i love it. give me 12 more seasons right now.

“If we don’t leave in the next ten minutes, we’re going to be late for your own event, pretty girl.” Max tuts at you from the doorway of your bedroom but there’s no bite behind his words. 

You glance up at him from your vanity where you’re sitting doing the last bits of your makeup. He looks heartbreakingly handsome in crisp white button-down underneath a tailored navy blue sport coat and matching slacks. His hair is combed neatly to the side, gelled into submission in a way that makes you want to rake your fingers through it just to muss it up. 

“I’m nearly ready, mister bossy pants.” You shoot back before switching off the light on the vanity and standing up. 

Max rolls his eyes but takes advantage of you walking towards him, smile on your face, and blatantly ogles you. The way the navy blue lacy dress hugs every dip and curve of your frame has Max checking his watch, wondering just how late you two could be without raising suspicion. 

“Don’t get any ideas.” You giggle, wrapping your arms around Max’s waist before pitching up onto your toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You were just scolding me that we can’t be late and then you come in here looking at me like that.” 

“It’s not my fault you look like a goddamn masterpiece in that dress.” He murmurs against your neck as he drags hot, open mouthed kisses down towards your collar bone. 

The way Max talks to you now, the reverent way he looks at you like you’re a piece of art in the most normal of situations, the way he always has to be touching you even with just the tips of his fingers, it’s everything you’ve ever craved from a relationship and everything you thought you didn’t deserve. 

Two weeks have passed since that night in your studio and while Max had to be gone for half of it for a race, one that you had solidly refused to attend until the dust between you and Lando settles a little more, it’s almost as if you two have been together for years now. The way you’ve slotted yourself into his life and Max into yours is so settling, so calming that you’ve caught yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’ve caught yourself waiting for him to behave like Lando, to push you away or do something that proves that Lando was right all along. 

Max knows you’ve been waiting for it so he’s made an extra effort to prove to you that it’s never going to happen. He knows you’re still healing, still recovering from what the British driver did to you so he hasn’t pushed. He hasn’t pushed to label whatever it is you two are to each other. It doesn’t matter to either of you because if you’re both in Monaco, you’re together. Max comes down to your apartment to watch while you cook dinner or you go up to his to cuddle on the couch and spend the night. It’s been a blissfully quiet time but you can both feel that private time coming to an end. 

The comments on your post from earlier had been mostly positive but it was pretty apparent fans had put two and two together. People knew you and Max were…something. They had figured out that a breakup had taken place even if nothing had officially been announced. You knew that once you arrived to the gallery tonight, hand in hand with Max, that was all it was going to take to confirm to the public that you and Lando were over and you had moved on. 

The thought of what Lando might do after he sees the coverage of tonight, and you know there will be coverage, has anxiety sitting heavy on your shoulders. Max clocks it instantly, shaking his head. He reads you so easily now, he always has but since that night in your studio, he’s been even more in tune with you and your moods. 

“Don’t go there. It’s going to be fine. Everyone who loves you, who matters, is going to be there and we won’t let anything or anyone ruin tonight, okay?” 

You nod, attempting to tamp down the anxiety that blooms hotly in your chest. You hated how much control Lando still had over you sometimes but you were getting better, bit by bit. “Thank you.” You whisper, nuzzling into the crook of Max’s neck while inhaling the scent of his cologne. 

“I have something for you.” Max murmurs into your hair in an obvious attempt to distract you. 

You pull back, eyes sparkling up at him. “You do?” 

Distraction successful. 

Max reaches into the back pocket of his slacks and pulls out a rectangular velvet box. You blink up at him in confusion. “Max…” 

“It’s just something small to show you how proud I am of you, how wildly in love I am with you.” He says, the words skittering up your spine before settling deep in the pit of your stomach. You’ve never been loved in the way Max loves you and it’s always seemingly knocking you off your center. “Go on, open it.” He whispers, watching as you turn the velvet box over in your hands. 

The hinges on the box whisper open and you’re momentarily speechless when you see what is nestled in the black satin. A diamond tennis necklace winks up at you with dozens of brilliant cut diamonds set in what looks to be platinum, stealing the very breath from your lungs. The stone that sits nestled in the center though is what renders you completely speechless. A large emerald cut brilliant blue sapphire stone sits in the middle of the necklace, the color a perfect match to the navy blue of Max’s Formula 1 car. 

“Max.” You whisper, unable to find any other words beyond his name. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, eyes searching yours earnestly, looking for approval in your face. 

“It’s…” The words to describe the beauty of the piece sitting heavy in your hands escapes you. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, a small, involuntary gasp escaping your lips. The diamonds, so bright they seem to shimmer with the captured light, blur and swim together as tears prick at your eyes. “Max,” You manage again, your voice thick with emotion that you struggle to get a handle on. “It’s breathtaking.” 

He reaches for the necklace, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a surge of pleasure down your spine. His touch, simple as it is, is familiar but charged with a new intensity. He lifts the delicate chain, the cool metal a stark contrast against the warmth of his skin, and fastens it around your neck after you spin for him while lifting your hair out of the way. The weight of the piece settles against your skin, a physical reminder of his affection, his love for you. Love. The word echoes int he quiet space of your mind, a sound so heavy but exhilarating that it has fresh tears threatening to spill over. 

“Turn around.” He murmurs, voice husky. Max takes a step back, eyes raking over you, a slow appreciative burn in their blue depths. 

You obey, your movements a little stiff and unsure. As you turn, the sapphire catches the light, flashing a vibrant, rich blue against the pale glow of your skin. You spot your reflection in the mirror across the room just as you turn back to face Max and your breath catches again. The necklace transforms your outfit into something extraordinary. It’s not just beautiful, it’s…meaningful. It’s a symbol of his belief in you, his pride in being with you, his acceptance of you, flaws and all.

 It’s a promise, whispered against your skin. 

“It’s too much.” You whisper, the words barely audible. The sheer extravagance of the gift, the depth of the emotion behind it, is almost too overwhelming. 

Max steps closer, his hands slipping around your waist as he pulls you against his body. “It’s not too much.” He says, his voice gentle but firm. “You deserve the world, everything beautiful and bright and good. And this?” He gestures to the necklace clasped around your neck, the sapphire resting in the hollow of your throat, “This is just a small token of my love.” 

“Thank you.” You whisper, the words wholly inadequate and insufficient to describe the way your stomach is swirling with emotion but it’s all you can manage in the face of such overwhelming emotion. You reach up, your fingers tracing the cool surface of the center stone. It feels like a piece of him, a tangible representation of the connection you both share. And in that moment, surrounded by the quiet him of unspoken emotion, you know that whatever happens tonight, whatever Lando might do to ruin the night or in the future, you’re not alone. You have Max. And that, you realize, is more precious than any piece of jewelry that Max could ever give you. 

f1.gossip.news posted

f1.gossip.news in a move that shocked...absolutely no one, charles leclerc's little sister stepped out hand in hand with new flame max verstappen tonight. while her and lando never officially announced their split, we've all seen the writing on the wall. her insta post announcing her new artwork debuting tonight featuring the red bull driver was all the confirmation we needed that her and the mclaren driver are dunzoooo. what do we think, chat??? user7575 she is GLOWING! good for her. >>>user0209 seriously, i haven't seen her or max look this happy in ages. user3221 i can hear the dishes breaking in lando's apartment from here in london >>>user0202 seriously. imagine losing the championship last year AND THEN YOUR GIRL to max verstappen. WHEEEEW BOY. user1992 this is so messy. i love it.

The light from the gallery spills out onto the sidewalk, casting a golden glow out into the street that guides you and Max towards it’s doors. It doesn’t escape your notice that the last time you walked down this sidewalk at night towards Nessa’s gallery for a show of yours, you were alone and desperately sad. 

Tonight though? Tonight is completely different. Your arm is tucked securely in Max’s elbow as he walks with towards the gallery with you after dropping the car off with the valet. The necklace he’d given you that night sits securely around your throat, an outwardly sign of the budding relationship between you two. As you approach the gallery, you see your brothers waiting for you but this time, all of their significant others are also waiting for you as well. 

Charles is the first one to intercept you, catching you up in a tight hug before whispering how lovely you look tonight in your ear. You’re passed first to Arthur and finally to Lorenzo, who makes a joke about the rock around your neck. Through it all, Max sits back quietly, watching you glow under the attention of your brothers. Jade, Alexandra, and Charlotte all make a fuss over your outfit and paw at the necklace, swooning over how it practically sparkles under the gallery lights. 

When you finally make it into the gallery, there are dozens of people already there. Nessa sees you walk through the door first and pounces on you instantly. 

“My darling!” She coos, wrapping you up in her arms and squeezing you tightly. “You are shimmering with happiness.” She comments, eyes darting to where Max stands behind you, hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he talks with Charles and Arthur. “And I suppose we have that man to thank for that.” 

“Partly.” You agree, but you know it’s more than that. You feel as though you’ve been given a second chance tonight. You were so close to losing everything, to succumbing to everything that Lando had put you through over the last three years that this first night out feels like your first taste of what life should feel like. You knew you had Max to thank for a lot of that, but it also wasn’t lost on you how much you had also fought to be there for yourself. “I’ve done a lot of work on myself the last few months too.” 

Nessa nods, running a protective hand up and down your bare arms. “I know, your art has changed! It feels lighter but also there’s so much more depth to it. I’ve had several inquiries about the one of your man after Brazil.” She says, eyes alright with dollar signs. 

“Unfortunately, that one is already sold.” Max cuts in, slipping his arm around your waist before handing you a glass of red wine. 

You startle, not realizing that you had already sold a piece so early on in the night. “It is?” 

Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. “I came in yesterday afternoon while you were taking a nap and bought it.” 

Your head snaps to Nessa, looking for confirmation. “Paid twice my asking price.” She murmurs, smirk playing at her ruby red lips. Traditionally, she never sold a piece before it was debuted but Max had been persuasive and insisted on locking down the piece without you knowing before hand. 

“Max!” You hiss, bumping a shoulder into his. “I would have just given it to you if you’d asked! I was planning on doing that anyway!” 

Max shrugs, small smile on his face. “I wanted to make sure no one beat me to it. And of course I paid for it! Allow my girl to give her work away for free? Just because I’m the muse doesn’t mean I get special treatment.” 

You’re fairly certain you blush deeper a deep red than the scarlet of your brother’s Ferrari at the praise Max heaps on you. Nessa hides a knowing grin behind her own wine glass before excusing herself to go talk to a client that had just walked in. 

Max and you are left alone in the center of the room and for a moment, the silence that settles over you two is a comforting blanket. It’s not hurried or anxious, the energy between you tonight. It’s a calm, steady thrum of energy that passes easily from Max to you without having to do much more than exchange a glance or quick brush of fingertip against bare skin. You watch your family swirl around the room, each gently checking in on you in their own time as they mingle and you feel yourself relax into the vibe of the evening. 

You’re two glasses in and having a hushed conversation with Jade as Max stands beside you, backs to the door, when a sudden tension snaps through the gallery. On the opposite side of the room, the door at the front of the gallery snaps just a touch too loudly, pulling your attention in that direction. 

The figure that stands just inside the gallery sends your stomach dropping through your toes. 

“Shit.” Beside you, Max’s hand finds yours and he instinctively shifts to put himself between the rest of the gallery and yourself. 

You knew this was going to happen. You had felt it in your bones tonight as you had gotten ready. You knew that Lando would never let you have this. Knew deep down that he’d never let you fully get away from him without having the last word. If there was one thing that Lando couldn’t stand, it was being made a fool of. And you knew that showing up here tonight on Max’s arm, wearing Max’s jewels would set him off. 

You deserved what was coming. 

You try frantically to step around Max, feeling the need to absorb the fire you knew Lando was going to spew everywhere. But Max won’t allow it. Without a single glance in your direction, Max shifts his weight once again and you find yourself even further away from Lando now. Somewhere to your left, you sense Charles and Arthur step in front of you two and you’re certain Lorenzo is around somewhere. 

“Typical LeClerc behavior. Hiding behind others who are more powerful than you in order to save face. Learned from the best, didn’t you baby?” The venom in Lando’s voice sinks it’s claws into your bloodstream, threatening to drag you under. 

Around you, conversations cease instantly, all attention on the scene happening in the corner of the room. 

You weren’t going to let Lando win this though. You were done giving him the power to control you, done dodging the confrontation in an attempt to quietly end things between you. He just wasn’t getting the hint and if he was going to behave like this, then fine. You were fed up. 

Pushing through Max and Charles, you stand in front of your ex-boyfriend, head held high. “Lando, this is neither the time nor the place to do this.” Your voice is deceptively calm, not giving away a bit of the fear that trembles just below the surface. 

Lando sneers, rolling his eyes and then his gaze snags on the necklace at your throat. The navy blue stone catches the light, winking over at him with an antagonizing shimmer. He takes half a step closer and you feel Max shift again, but this time he comes to stand beside you instead of in front of you. 

“Wearing his collar already, huh?” He bites out. A chorus of gasps ripple through the gallery but you just tip your chin up higher, used to his attempts at humiliation. Lando’s gaze shifts to Max beside you and a cruel smile curls at the corner of his mouth. “Tell me, Verstappen. Does she still make that little cooing noise right before she comes? It was always the sweetest little sound, you know the one I’m talking about, right?” 

Humiliation burns through you, hot and bright as Max reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze. Another ripple of disbelief peppers through the crowd but Max barely blinks. “You know, I’ve never heard her make that particular sound.” He pauses and Lando’s face lights up in a brilliant smile, as if he’s won. “Usually, she’s too busy screaming my name when I make her come though so she’s never been one to make quiet little sounds with me.” 

Silence. 

“I always knew you were a cheating whore.” 

A sickening crack rings out in the otherwise silent room as your brother’s fist connects squarely with Lando’s jaw. 

“Charles!” You gasp, hand flying to your throat as you watch Lando stagger back. 

Charles shakes out his hand, received to be able to move all of his fingers. He can’t imagine that call to Maranello going well if he’d had to phone about a broken hand. 

“Keep my sister’s name out of your filthy fucking mouth, you piece of trash.” Charles spits, voice a mask of sheer deathly calm.

Max steps forward, a silent demand for order radiating from the way he stands. “Enough.” His voice is unwaveringly calm as he watches Lando struggle to his feet, clutching at his left eye where a deep blue bruise is already blooming. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the police. I don’t think Zak would be to happy to hear about tonight’s shenanigans or enjoy having to read the media coverage after his star driver gets arrested for harassment.” Max takes half a step towards Lando and you enjoy the way the Brit scrambles away. “If you so much as sneeze in her direction ever again, I will make it my life’s mission to see your entire life ruined, Norris.” Max is practically nose to nose with Lando now, his glare cutting down your ex-boyfriend so he appears about two inches tall. “Are. We. Clear?” 

****

Later that night, Max startles awake, unsurprised to find himself alone in your bed. He knew you were restless tonight. It had taken him nearly twice as long as it usually did for him to pull your body to release underneath him. And after, when you had tumbled head first into sleep, naked beside him, you weren’t settled like you usually were when you slept beside him. 

So no, he wasn’t surprised to find you gone and the bed long cold beside him. 

Pulling on a pair of boxers, Max wanders into your spare bedroom that’s morphed into somewhat of a second studio space. He finds you exactly where he expects you: facing away from him sitting in front of a half finished canvas. You’re bathed in a brilliant blue moonlight, wearing nothing but his white dress shirt from earlier and his necklace you still haven’t removed. 

“Come back to bed, my love.” He murmurs into the crook of your neck as you drop your head onto his, sinking into the warmth of his embrace. 

A soft sound of agreement hums in the back of your throat as you place the brush on the table beside you. Max is a touch surprised with how pliant you are, instantly following his suggestion without much fight but he also knows today took a lot out of you and the thing you sometimes craved was the ability to shut it all off. 

“I wasn’t getting much work done anyway.” You murmur, standing and leaning into his embrace even more. The room is chilly anyway and you find yourself needing Max’s touch more than anything else in that moment. 

You allow Max to tug you out the door towards your bedroom, knowing that he’s able to read you perfectly. He doesn’t rush you though. He lets you linger for a moment in the doorway, your gaze snagging lightly on the painting behind you. It’s a gorgeous landscape that you’re known for, something you haven’t been able to paint in what feels like a lifetime. The moonlight paints silver streaks across the floor, illuminating the painting that you had spent the last hour just starting at. It’s a peaceful scene, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had filled your day. A small, contented sigh escapes your lips and Max squeezes your hand just enough to pull your attention back to him. 

Once back in the bedroom, the chill of the room sends a shiver down your spine. Max, ever attentive, pulls back the covers, gesturing for you to climb in first. He watches as you curl up on your side, tucking your knees up in towards your chest. The white shirt slips off your body, revealing the delicate curve of your spine. He slides in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Max reaches out, his hand finding the curve of your hip and gently pulls you closer until your back is flush against his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist, fingers splaying across your stomach. 

You melt into his touch, the warmth of his body radiating through you. His breath is warm against the back of your neck and the steady rhythm of his heart is a soothing lullaby you’ve come to depend on at night. The events of earlier linger in the back of your mind, but here, in Max’s arms they start to feel a little more distant, muffled almost. He kisses the nape of your neck softly, a quiet reminder of his constant presence in your life now, how he’ll never allow you to be alone of face anything by yourself anymore. 

“Better?” He whispers, voice low and rumbling against your bare skin. 

“Mm-hmm” You hum, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You reach down and take his hand that sits on your belly, intertwining your fingers with his. The simple act of holding his hand grounds you, reminding you that you’re not alone anymore. You turn slightly in his arms, just enough to look up at him. His eyes, even in the dim light of the bedroom, are filled with tenderness and understanding. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, your voice thick with emotion. 

Max smiles, a soft, reassuring smile that makes your heart ache in the best way. “For what, liefje?” His Dutch accent is thick now, as it gets when he’s tired and emotional. 

“For everything.” You say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “For being here. For understanding. For taking care of me.” 

He pulls you closer, his hold tighenying slightly. “Always.” He murmurs against your lips. “Always and forever, my love.” 

And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you know that no matter what happens next, you and Max will face it together. This, right here, in his arms, is your happy ending that you’ve been chasing after your entire life. 

Tag list:

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[nmakii]

i blinked and suddenly, i had a valentine!

— valentines with nagi and sae

folow @itoshiluvbot …. number one sae lover she on the floor rn while i type this…

nagi never liked valentines days. florists would be more pushy than usual, insisting that he should buy a rose for that someone special, and wouldn’t let him cross to school. so troublesome, honestly. not to mention how a bunch of girls would be slipping treats and love letters into reo’s locker. they’d always try to vy for his attention, specially on valentines, so now he doesn’t have anyone to hang out with!

well, no one else but you. on days such as valentines, you’d complain all day about how you had no one who loved you, it was a bit bothersome hearing the same thing every year. so this year, he decided to fix that.

he went out of his way to buy you a tiny box of chocolate— one of those expensive brands with different flavors that all really just taste the same. nagi knew that it was more or less a scam for boyfriends who want to buy their girlfriend something special, but nagi had a feeling you’d pout if it was one of those cheap brands chocolates from the convenience store.

right. you’d be the one who would be sad. it definitely just wasn’t nagi unable to show you that he does care for you, and him doing it by buying you the more luxurious options.

…anyway, he also bought you those bottled milk teas you love so much. the ones that he also likes to take sips out since it’s so tasty. one taste of it, and he’s always back to your favorite convenience store where the two of you would hang out. he’d play his video games while resting his head on your shoulder, and you’d write your essay while eating your cup noodles. it was all so simple, yet so perfect.

“nagi, pleaseeeee… be my valenhuzz…” you whined, sitting beside him on the staircase as he played his video games. “what does that even mean? the slang lately is so weird.” he sighed. “hmmm… you’re right, i miss skibidi toilet.” you shrugged, all before groaning to yourself. god, valentines was seriously hell on earth for single people.

nagi nodded, knowing the cause of your grief, and— …put his game down?! he lightly dropped his console to the side, letting his character get pummeled with bullets. he dug his hands into the holes of his absurdly large hoodie pocket, and pulled out a box of luxury chocolate and a bottle of milk tea.

“…for you” he mumbled, handing the gifts over to you. your heart swelled like the strings of a quartet at a genuine act of kindness from nagi seishiro, and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him.

“oof!” he grunted, caught more than off-guard by your side hug. “nagi! you’re so freakin’ sweet!” you squealed, your cuteness aggression kicking in. all you want to do is just take a bite out of nagi! “…it wasn’t too bothersome. i didn’t want you to be sad this valentines.” he muttered.

“ahah! so, you are my valenhuzz!” you snickered proudly, pumping your fist. “i— umm, sure... as long as we just spend today in my dorm.” he shrugged, exasperatedly shaking his head. you were awfully pushy when it came to the things you wanted, and it seems that today, that thing was him. it was too bothersome to fight you when you were like this, so it was easier to just agree with you.

“really—?!” you asked, you didn’t really expect him to agree! “…yeah, i’m not busy today, so i’ll be your valentine.” he hummed tiredly.

ah… you never thought this would’ve happened, but at least you aren’t forever alone anymore.

“come over.” was the only thing sae said in his text. as you went up to his apartment door, you felt nervous. this could’ve been a number of things. a booty call? a date? all of this on valentines no less. this was the first year he hadn’t asked you to be his valentine. even after 5– almost 6— years together, you could never read his mind, he just texts too ominously.

you knock on the door. and without a beat skipped, sae opens the door. he’s in an apron, looking like a househusband. hahah, how cute of him!

sae quickly moves to the side, making way for you to enter. “come in.” he hums, leading you in. inside, a display is before you. an actual candlelight dinner. a fried chicken cutlet served on the side of a cheesy pesto pasta. god, just looking at it made your mouth water.

“happy valentines, amorcita.” he whispers, his breath tickling your ear as he rests his jaw on your shoulder. he observes the shocked look on your face and scrunches his eyebrows. “why do you look so surprised? i do something like this every year, don’t i?” his head tilts.

you couldn’t really refute him— maybe your reason for thinking otherwise was a bit silly now. “i mean… yeah..! but, you didn’t ask me to be your valentines this year…” you pout, frowning like a child. sae scoffed, “you’re my valentines every year. why would it change this year?”

he raised an eyebrow, small creases forming at the edge of his lips as he tries to hide the smile on his lips. he uses his thumb to slide along the sharp edge of your jaw, admiring how the flames shone in the reflection of your eyes. “you’re being silly, amorcita. but if it makes you feel better…” he sighs, “will you be my valentine?” he asked.

you laughed at the seriousness of his tone. no matter the situation, he had a voice that made you want to listen attentively as if it’d be the last thing he says to you. you nodded softly,

“yes, i’ll be your valentine, sae.” you breathlessly sighed, humming your words as it reverberates back onto his lips in a soft, meaningful kiss.

[jazzy96scorpio]

It's V-Day 🌼🌹 could you write Pedro x reader spending their first valentine's?

Will you be my Valentine?

Chapter 1 More Than Just Flowers

Description: Love blooms in the most unexpected places when a flower shop girl [You] and a Hollywood heartthrob find a connection that's more than just skin deep.

Pairing: You / Pedro Pascal

Warnings ⚠️: adult content, explicit content, angst and fluff, oral sex (m/f), sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk, age gap, sugar daddy kink, SMUT.

Word count: 3,450

I was planning to write a fanfic with sugar daddy Pedro Pascal. So here is one with Valentine's Day. I hope so you are gonna like it. Write me your reviews❣️

You're mysterious, beautiful, a bit of shy, if you're honest with yourself. Fresh out of college, New York City is calling your name, a crazy mix of exciting and terrifying. Rent doesn't pay itself, though, so you've landed a gig at a flower shop. Not just any flower shop—this one's in the ritzy part of town, all fancy blooms and even fancier prices. It's a whole different world from your student days, but you're figuring it out. You're observant, you pick up on things others miss, and you can blend in or stand out as needed. Plus, you're learning the secret language of flowers. Each one has a meaning, a story. And you're becoming fluent.

One day, you notice him outside the shop.

Pedro Pascal. The Pedro Pascal.

Your heart does a little flutter-kick. He's even more captivating in person than on screen. Then soon after he enters the shop. Straight towards your counter.

"Good afternoon," he says, that warm, familiar voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"I need a bouquet of red roses."

"Of course," you reply, trying to sound professional, your strong composure kicking in. "For a special occasion?"

He gives a small, enigmatic smile. "Perhaps."

You get to work, selecting the most perfect, velvety roses. Your hands move deftly, arranging them into a lush, romantic bouquet. You add a touch of baby's breath and some elegant greenery. When you're finished, even you are impressed.

He watches you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "That's…very beautiful," he murmurs, taking the bouquet. "Just like you."

Your breath hitches. "Thank you," you manage, your cheeks warming slightly.

He lingers for a moment, those intense eyes holding yours. "I'm Pedro," he says, extending a hand.

"I know," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm [Y/N]."

"It's a pleasure, [Y/N]." He pauses, then adds, a touch of playful challenge in his voice,

"Perhaps I'll see you around."

And then, just like that, he leaves. Leaving you with a racing heart and the lingering scent of roses. What just happened? you wonder, your mind already replaying the encounter.

There was definitely something there, a spark… but was it just his natural charm, or something more? And what did he mean by "see you around"? Was he interested? Or just being polite? A little knot of nervous excitement tightens in your stomach. This could be interesting… or a complete disaster. Knowing your luck, probably a bit of both.

A delivery truck arrived soon after, packed to the brim with roses. "Need a hand?" you asked the driver, a young guy with a cheeky grin.

"If you're offering," he replied, giving you a once-over that made you roll your eyes internally. "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be doing all this heavy lifting." He winked.

"Someone's gotta do it," you said, hoisting a box of Freedom roses. He chatted you up while you worked, the usual lines about how he'd love to take you out sometime.

He wasn't bad looking, but definitely not your type. You'd always been attracted to older men. Maybe it was the maturity, the confidence… something about the youthful energy of guys your own age just didn't do it for you. Which, you had to admit, was probably why you were still single. You'd never really been in love.

As you were carrying a particularly large box of long-stems, you glanced across the street.

And there he was. Pedro. Leaning against a sleek car, looking impossibly handsome.

Then, a woman appeared. She was stylish, laughing, and… they hugged. They kissed.

Shit. You thought. She's lucky. A pang of something you couldn't quite name went through you. I wish… you started to think, then cut yourself off. Ridiculous. You barely knew him, and that will never happen.

And then, he pulled out something from the car. The bouquet. The one you had made. He gave it to her. She beamed, clearly pleased. Of course she was.

You turned back to the truck, a little deflated. "Thanks for the help," you mumbled to the driver, who was still trying to get your number. "But I gotta get back inside."

You went back into the shop, the image of Pedro and the woman lingering in your mind. You had work to do.

💓

Closing up, mostly. The shop was quiet now, the day's rush over.It was almost the end of your shift. As you were tidying near the door, you spotted something on the floor. A wallet. You picked it up. It was leather, expensive-looking. You opened it. And there, staring back at you, was Pedro's ID.

"Oh god," you muttered, staring at Pedro's ID. You really didn't want to go through his wallet, but… what were you supposed to do? Damn it. How were you going to find him now? Calling the police meant paperwork, hassle… ugh. You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated. This whole day had taken a weird, unexpected turn.

Just then, you heard a knock on the door. Your heart leaped into your throat. Could it be…?

You took a deep breath and walked to the door, your mind racing. You flipped the sign to "Closed" just in case. When you opened it, there he was. Pedro. Standing there, looking slightly… panicked?

"Hi," he said, his voice a little strained. "I, uh, I think I left something here."

You held up the wallet. "This?"

His face relaxed in relief. "Oh, thank god! You found it." He reached for it, and you instinctively pulled it back just a fraction.

"You're Pedro Pascal," you said, stating the obvious, but somehow needing to hear yourself say it out loud. It still felt surreal.

He chuckled. "Guilty as charged. And you're… [Y/N], right?"

You nodded.

"I'm so grateful you found this," he said,

"I was freaking out. Everything's in there."

He gave you a charming smile. "You're a lifesaver."

"It's no problem," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, even though your insides were doing a little victory dance.

"I was just about to close up."

"Well," he said, "maybe I could… buy you a coffee or something to thank you?"

A coffee? This was actually happening.

"I… I'd like that," you managed, finally handing him his wallet.

"Great," he said. "How about we go somewhere where I don't get mobbed by fans?" He grinned. "There's a little place around the corner I like. Quiet. We can go there."

"Okay," you said, grabbing your purse and locking the door. As you walked with him around the corner, you couldn't help but think: This is insane. Just a few hours ago, you were watching him across the street, thinking how lucky the other woman was. And now, here you were, about to go for coffee with Pedro Pascal. Life was definitely full of surprises.

As you and Pedro walked around the corner, he suddenly stopped. He was staring at something in the distance, his expression hardening. You followed his gaze and saw… his girlfriend. Kissing another guy. It was far enough away that you couldn't see the other man's face clearly, but Pedro definitely recognized her.

He went still, a muscle ticking in his jaw. You instinctively knew this was bad.

Shit. you thought.

He looked at you, his eyes dark. You cursed inwardly.

Double shit.

He put his hands on his waist, as if trying to decide his next move. Then, in a move that surprised you, he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. "Come with me," he said, his voice low and tight.

Triple shit. What was happening? What was he going to do? He was furious, the betrayal evident in every line of his body. You were just along for the ride now, a bewildered passenger in his drama.

He started walking faster, pulling you along. You stumbled a bit, trying to keep up.

"Pedro, what are you doing?" you asked, your voice a nervous whisper.

He didn't answer. He just kept walking, his grip on your hand tightening. You could feel the anger radiating off him.

You reached to them. Pedro stopped abruptly. His girlfriend turned, her eyes widening in shock when she saw him. The other man looked startled, then quickly backed away.

"What the hell is this, Sofia?" Pedro's voice was dangerously quiet.

"Pedro, it's not…" she stammered.

"It's not what it looks like?" he finished, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because it looks pretty damn clear to me."

"He's just a friend," she said weakly.

Pedro let out a harsh laugh. "A friend you kiss like that?"

"You're never around anyway!" she snapped back, her voice rising. "Always working, always away. I was lonely!"

"So you find comfort in another man's arms?" he retorted, his eyes flashing.

"Look at you!" she sneered. "What did you expect? I can't waste my time with an old man like you! I don't love you anymore! I want someone who is young and who can give me attention. I just wanted fame and money, and you were a ticket. Now I have a new ticket!"

"You used me?" Pedro's voice was low, laced with hurt.

"You're damn right I did," she spat. "And now I'm done. Don't call me again."

Pedro looks like he's about to say something, but you instinctively grab his arm. This is getting ugly, and you don't want him to get dragged down any further. You pull him back slightly.

Just then, Sofia turns her venomous gaze on you. "Looks like you found yourself a cheap slut too, huh?" she sneers.

Something inside you snaps. You're not going to stand here and take this. But before you can say anything, Pedro steps in front of you, his face a mask of fury. "Don't you dare talk about her like that!" he snarls. "She has nothing to do with this. You're the one who betrayed me, not her."

He grabs your hand again and storms off, leaving Sofia fuming. You can feel the tension radiating off him, the raw emotion of betrayal and hurt.

"You still owe me that coffee," you say quietly as you walk away, trying to lighten the mood.

He looks at you, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "You're right," he says. "I do."

You go to the coffee shop, and you do your best to distract him, to comfort him.

You tell him silly stories about your life.

He listens, and slowly, the tension begins to drain. He's still hurt, you can tell, but he's also grateful for your presence, for the simple act of human connection in the middle of a messy, public breakup.

He talks about his work, the passion he has for acting, the challenges of being in the public eye. You talk about your dreams, your ambitions, the things that make you tick. You find yourself connecting with him on a level you didn't expect. He's charming, funny, and surprisingly down-to-earth. He's vulnerable, in a way that makes your heart ache for him. You find yourself wanting to protect him, to shield him from the pain Sofia inflicted.

As you left the coffee shop, he thanked you again for being there.

"If you ever need a shoulder to cry on," you said, "I'm here."

He looked at you, a wry smile twisting his lips. "Well, tonight I might need one."

"I think we could watch a movie together," he suggested.

You agreed, and he gives a genuine smile finally breaking through.

You went back to his apartment. It was huge, luxurious—fucking amazing. There was a massive TV screen. You couldn't hide your amusement.

He offered you a drink. You accepted.

"So," he said, seeming a little more relaxed, "what are we going to watch?"

"Wall-E," you said.

He laughed. "Wall-E?"

"It's my favorite," you admitted.

"It's one of mine too," he said, surprisingly.

You settled on the sofa, sipping your drinks and watching the movie. You chatted a little about yourself, your life, your dreams.

Then, you looked at him. "You shouldn't have to go through that," you said softly, referring to Sofia.

"It's not the first time," he admitted. "That's why I've been avoiding relationships."

"I get that," you said. "I've been single for years. It's fucking amazing. No stress, no worries." You paused. "Actually, I've never been in love with someone."

He looked at you, surprised. "How could a beautiful girl like you haven't found someone?"

"Well," you shrugged, "it just never happened. They all say I'm was too cold and hard to get."

He laughed.

You continued watching the movie. The ending was emotional. "I wish I could find love like that," you said. "Where you can fix each other, be patient, be best friends, and have complete trust."

He agreed saying "That's so rare nowadays, almost impossible."

You noticed he was exhausted. "I should go," you said, thanking him for the evening. You headed for the door, but he stopped you. He leaned in, as if to kiss you.

"Don't do this right now," you said gently, pulling back slightly.

He took your hand, and you could see the pain in his eyes. "Don't leave me alone tonight." he whispered.

You didn't want to hurt him more. He'd had a rough night. "I won't," you said softly.

You took his hand, and he led you to his bedroom. "Can I borrow a shirt?" you asked. You were staying the night, but only to sleep.

He found a yellow Lakers shirt. "Thanks," you said, taking it.

He left you alone to change. When he came back, he said he'd sleep on the couch.

"No, you won't," you said firmly. "You asked me to stay."

He couldn't take his eyes off you in the oversized shirt, which barely covered your waist.

You both lay down on the bed. You stared out the window. "I've never slept in a bed with a man before," you confessed quietly.

He turned to you, surprised. "Well, you're the first woman in this bed," he said.

"What about Sofia?" you asked.

"No," he said. "We usually spent time at her place."

"Well, I'm glad I'm the first woman in this bed," you said, a playful smile touching your lips. You kissed him on the cheek and turned to go to sleep. He watched you as you turned to sleep, your breathing becoming slow and even. He was amazed by you, by the way you had come into his life so unexpectedly, so powerfully. He was so impatient, his body buzzing with desire, wanting you, needing you. But he also knew he didn't want to rush things. He wanted this to be real, to be meaningful. He wanted to earn your trust, your affection. He wanted… more. He turned around, facing away from you, and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep, the image of you, so beautiful and vulnerable in his bed, burning in his mind.

He woke up first. You barely stirred as he got out of bed. He was only in his boxers.

Damn, you thought, a little spark igniting within you. That man is hot. You really wanted him.

He made coffee, the aroma filling the apartment, and brought you a cup.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his eyes lingering on you, a hint of mischief in them.

"Yeah, like a gremlin," you mumbled, still half-asleep, but a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

He chuckled. "Well, one beautiful gremlin," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't have any plans for the day. It's the weekend. Do you want spending it with me?"

"Sure," you said, finally opening your eyes and sitting up. "I'd like that."

You got up and made breakfast, a simple but delicious. You laughed and joked, the earlier tension melting away. It felt… comfortable. Natural. Like you’d known each other for much longer than a day. Then, the doorbell rang, shattering the easy atmosphere.

Pedro frowned and went to answer it. It was her. Sofia.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice cold and flat.

"Pedro, please," she said, her voice trembling, on the verge of tears. "I made a mistake. I'm so sorry. I love you."

"You love me?" he scoffed, the hurt and anger from the previous night resurfacing. "You said some pretty harsh things last night, Sofia. Things you can't take back."

"I was angry," she pleaded, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I didn't mean it. Please, give me another chance. I’ll do anything."

You stood there, a knot of anger tightening in your stomach.

She was playing the victim now, after everything she'd said, after the way she’d humiliated him.

"Get out, Sofia," Pedro said, his voice hard, unwavering.

"No," she said, stepping past him into the apartment. She saw you then, lounging in Pedro's Lakers shirt, and her eyes narrowed, jealousy and spite twisting her features.

"So, this is who you've moved on to? Some… some flower girl?"

That did it. You stepped forward, your anger finally boiling over. You were usually calm, collected, but Sofia's words, her harsh tone, pushed you over the edge.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," you said, your voice low and dangerous, a warning in every syllable.

"Or what?" Sofia sneered, her eyes flashing. "What are you going to do, flower girl? Throw some petals at me? Arrange me a nice little bouquet of 'get lost'?"

"I'll do this," you said, your voice still dangerously quiet, and before Sofia could react, you slapped her, hard, across the face. The sound echoed through the apartment.

Sofia gasped, clutching her cheek, her eyes wide with shock and pain. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, they weren't tears of remorse. They were tears of humiliation and rage. She looked at Pedro, then back at you, her face a mask of pure fury. Without another word, she turned and fled, slamming the door behind her with a resounding bang.

Pedro stared at you, his mouth slightly open, a mixture of surprise, admiration, and maybe even a little bit of awe in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed momentarily speechless.

"That's how you deal with that," you said, your adrenaline still pumping, your voice a little shaky. "I think she will not bother you anymore." you added with a wry smile.

He laughed, a genuine, hearty laugh that filled the apartment. "You're a tough one," he said, shaking his head, still chuckling. He looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," he said softly, the laughter fading, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. He reached out and gently took your hand. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice husky. "For… everything."

❤️‍🔥

He leaned in and kissed you, and you didn't want to pull back. You kissed him back, roughly, passionately, your earlier anger now fueling a different kind of fire.

His lips were insistent, demanding, and you met his passion with your own, your tongues tangling in a heated dance. He lifted you up, his arms strong and sure, and carried you to the bedroom. He shrugged off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest, and you quickly shed yours, your skin tingling with anticipation.

His kiss was fierce, possessive, a hunger in it that mirrored your own. His hands roamed over your body, caressing your curves, igniting a fire in your core. He kissed your neck, his lips tracing a burning path down to your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened into aching peaks. You, in turn, pulled down his boxers, your fingers brushing against his swollen cock, eliciting a groan from him.

His huge, thick cock was throbbing, pulsing with anticipation. You leaned closer, your tongue flicking out to taste him, swirling around the tip, savoring his heat, his size. "Mmm, you taste so good," you murmured, taking him deeper into your mouth, your hands cupping his balls, teasing them gently. He was so big you almost gagged, but you didn't stop, your right hand moving rhythmically along his length, stroking him, driving him wild. "Fuck," he groaned, his hands tangling in your hair. "You're going to make me come."

You pulled back, your lips glistening. "Not yet," you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

He pulled you up by your arms, his eyes burning into yours, filled with lust and desire. He kissed you again, his lips bruisingly tender, then leaned down, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

He leaned down and kissed you softly, his lips lingering on yours. Then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he dipped his hand on your waist, in one swift, tantalizing motion, ripped off your panties. "Mmm," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of your hip.

His fingers drifted lower, exploring the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"Such a beautiful pussy."

You gasped as he reached your core, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He found your clit, teasing it gently, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

"You're so wet," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me."

He slipped a finger inside you, slowly at first, then deeper, exploring your depths.

"God, you're tight," he groaned, his voice husky. "I can't wait to fill you up."

You moaned, arching your back, your body instinctively responding to his touch. He added another finger, then another, stroking you rhythmically, building the tension, driving you wild.

"Oh, fuck," you breathed, your nails digging into his back. "That feels so good."

He continued to caress you, his fingers dancing inside you, finding every sensitive spot, every nerve ending. You were a symphony of moans and gasps, your body trembling with pleasure. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue mirroring the rhythm of his fingers, teasing and tantalizing you until you were on the verge of climax.

"I want you inside me," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "I need you inside me, Pedro."

He looked at you, his eyes burning with passion. "You're going to get what you want," he growled, his voice thick with lust. He positioned himself between your legs, his cock throbbing against your core. He pushed inside you slowly, filling you completely, stretching you, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Yes," you moaned, arching your back, meeting his thrusts. "Fuck, yes."

He began to move, his hips slamming against yours, the rhythm building, intensifying. You were soaked, dripping, your pussy aching for him. You squeezed him tightly, your nails digging into his back, urging him on.

"Harder," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. "Fuck me harder, Pedro."

He obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. He gripped your hips, lifting you higher, taking you deeper.

"You're mine now," he growled, his voice thick with passion. "You will belong to me."

"Yes," you gasped, your body trembling with pleasure.

"I'm yours. Fuck me, Pedro. Make me yours."

He fucked you harder, faster, his thrusts driving you wild.

You squeezed him tightly, your nails digging into his back, urging him on.

"Ride me," he growled, his voice thick with passion. "Show me how bad you want me."

You flipped him over, straddling him, and began to move, your hips grinding against his, your breasts swaying with each thrust. "Like this?" you purred, your eyes locked with his.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. "You're fucking amazing."

You rode him hard, your passion unleashed, your body consumed by pleasure. You were so close, so close…

"Cum with me," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Let me feel you come."

You squeezed him tightly, your inner muscles clenching around him, and then you let go, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pure ecstasy. He followed close behind, his release a hot, shuddering rush that filled you completely.

You collapsed back onto the bed, pulling him with you. You lay there, tangled in each other's arms, your breathing ragged, your bodies still connected, the echoes of passion still reverberating between you.

He kissed you one last time, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of tenderness and affection.

"Fucking amazing," he murmured, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

You smiled back, snuggling closer to him.

"Yeah," you agreed. "That was something I haven't never felt"

He says "Me too..this was something special."

The rest of the morning was spent in a haze of lazy contentment. You stayed in bed, tangled in each other's arms, talking, laughing, just enjoying each other's company. The earlier drama with Sofia seemed like a distant memory, a bad dream that had faded with the dawn.

Pedro was different now. He was softer, more vulnerable, more… real. The walls he had built around himself seemed to have crumbled, at least for now.

Hour later, he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans. "How about we get some pizza?" he suggested. "And then… we can come back here and have some more fun." He winked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Sounds perfect," you said, your heart fluttering at the thought of more time with him, more of his touch, more of his kisses. "I'm falling for you, Pedro Pascal," you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

He grinned, his eyes softening. "I'm falling for you too, [Y/N]," he said, his voice husky. He leaned down and kissed you softly.

"I'm going to prepare you a bath," he said, his voice soft and warm. He kissed you gently, a lingering kiss that made your heart flutter.

While you were soaking in the warm water, he appeared at the bathroom door, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said, holding up a single, perfect red rose.

You'd completely forgotten! "Oh my gosh," you exclaimed, laughing.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice playful but firm. "You're mine all day and night."

You laughed, your heart overflowing with happiness. "I wouldn't dream of going anywhere," you replied, reaching out to take the rose. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

You were falling for him, hard and fast, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. There was a connection between you, a spark that ignited every time you were near.

After you both got ready, you left for a charming little pizza restaurant. He was joking, so goofy, making you laugh until your sides hurt.

"You know," he said between bites of pizza,

"I never thought I'd find someone who appreciates a good pepperoni pizza as much as I do."

"Clearly, you haven't met many people with good taste," you teased, winking at him.

"You're right," he said, his eyes locking with yours. "I haven't. You're… different. I've never met anyone so kind and grounded."

After the restaurant, as you were passing a boutique with fancy clothes, he suddenly pulled you inside. "I'm going to buy you a nice dress for dinner tonight," he declared.

He waited patiently, a soft smile on his face, as you tried on dress after dress. You finally picked out a stunning red one. When you stepped out of the dressing room, he was genuinely amazed.

"You look… breathtaking," he whispered, his eyes filled with admiration. "Absolutely breathtaking."

After that, he showered you with kisses and bought you more things—a delicate necklace, a beautiful purse.

"Pedro, you don't need to do this," you protested gently. "I'm not some material girl."

"I know," he said, taking your hand. "But I want to. I want to spoil you. You deserve it." He looked at you, his eyes filled with sincerity.

"I'm so happy I have the chance to spend time with you. I'm really lucky… and happy."

You blushed, your heart swelling with affection. "Me too," you whispered. "I feel so lucky thay I finally met you."

After all the shopping, you went for coffee, and that's when the paparazzi appeared, swarming you with questions. They were intrusive, annoying, flashing cameras in your faces. Pedro was visibly irritated, but he tried to stay calm. He put his arm around you protectively.

"No comment," he said repeatedly, trying to shield you from the barrage of questions. You quickly got into his car and drove away, leaving the paparazzi behind.

Back at his apartment, he sighed. "That was a bit much," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I need to get some things done. I'll be back before dinner to pick you up. Get ready. We're going out."

He kissed you softly. "And don't worry about those vultures," he said, a glint in his eye. "I'll handle them."

He left, and you started getting ready, wanting to look your absolute best. You slipped into a stunning red dress that made you feel both powerful and vulnerable, the fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin. A couple of hours later, he returned. His eyes widened as he took you in, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Wow," he breathed, his gaze lingering on you. "You look absolutely stunning. Like a goddess. A vision in red." He kissed you, a gentle, lingering kiss that made your heart flutter.

"I'll just be a few minutes," he said, his voice husky.

"Don't keep me waiting too long" you say.

"I won't," he replied, a playful smile on his lips.

You watched him as he was getting ready. What a pleasure for your eyes.

He quickly changed, and then you were off to a truly elegant restaurant. The ambiance was perfect, the food divine, but the best part was the conversation. It flowed effortlessly between you, as if you were two halves of a whole, finally reunited. It seemed like you were meant to be, two souls who had found solace and understanding in each other.

"I feel like I've known you forever," he said, his eyes filled with warmth.

"Me too," you replied, your heart echoing his sentiment. "It's… it's like finally finding something uniquely."

After dinner, as you walked back to the car, your heels started to protest.

"These heels are killing me," you groaned, "I'm more of a sneaker girl, you know."

He immediately crouched down. "Then let me take care of my lady," he said, gently removing your shoes.

He then scooped you up into his arms, carrying you effortlessly.

"Pedro!" you exclaimed, surprised and delighted. "Someone's going to see us!"

He just smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Let them see. I'm proud to be seen with you." He kissed you softly, then carried you all the way to the car.

Back at his apartment, the air crackled with anticipation. As soon as you closed the door, he kissed you hard, his passion igniting yours. He was impatient all night, his desire for you palpable. He helped you with your dress, his fingers trailing down your zipper, teasing your bare skin beneath.

"You're driving me crazy," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I can't wait to have you."

You, in turn, helped him with his shirt, your hands lingering on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. "You're making me crazy too," you whispered back, your eyes locked with his.

You quickly unbuckled his belt, your fingers brushing against his hard cock, eliciting a groan from him. You pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his throbbing erection. You kissed him again, passionately, your tongue dancing with his. You teased his tip with your fingers, circling him gently, eliciting another groan. "You're so sensitive," you murmured, "I love it."

He then lifted you up, his arms strong and sure, and carried you to the bed. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, then trailed kisses down your neck, your breasts, teasing your nipples.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I want to taste you everywhere." He entered you slowly, from the side, savoring every inch of you.

"God, you're tight," he groaned. "So fucking tight."

He cupped your breasts in his large hands, teasing them, squeezing them gently, driving you wild. "Yes," you moaned, arching your back, meeting his thrusts. "Fuck, yes."

He then shifted, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "So fucking perfect pussy."

He pulled out slightly, then pinned you down to the bed, his eyes burning into yours.

"Lift your hips for me," he commanded, his voice rough and possessive.

You arched your back, offering yourself to him. He grabbed your ass cheeks, his grip firm, and entered you again, this time harder, deeper, filling you completely. "Oh, fuck," you gasped, as he pushed past your entrance, filling you to the hilt.

Your pussy squeezed him tightly, milking his cock with your juices.

"You're so wet," he groaned. He rubbed your clit with his right hand, his fingers expertly teasing you, bringing you closer to the edge. You moaned, screaming his name, your body convulsing with pleasure.

"Pedro! Oh, Pedro!" He came inside you, his release a hot, shuddering rush that filled you completely. "Mine," he whispered, his voice thick with passion. "You're mine."

He kissed you gently and helped you get cleaned up, his touch tender and caring. You fell asleep in each other's arms, feeling safe and content.

The next morning, he woke you up with soft kisses. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he murmured, his voice warm. "If you could make us some pancakes… I'd be so much grateful. I love your pancakes."

You agreed, of course. You enjoyed cooking for him, the simple act of preparing his favorite breakfast filling you with a sense of warmth and affection. You made a batch of fluffy pancakes with fresh berries, and you enjoyed a leisurely breakfast together, laughing and talking.

"I have to go to work," you said reluctantly, as you finished the last bite.

"I'll drive you," he offered. He paused, then added, "This week is going to be crazy. I'm filming for SNL."

"I know," you said, a tinge of sadness in your voice. "I wish we could have spent more time together. This weekend was… amazing."

He took your hand, his eyes filled with sincerity. "We'll have more moments like this," he promised. "I want this… I want this to last." He kissed you, a lingering kiss that made your heart melt.

"I really like you, Pedro," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. "And I think… I think I'm falling in love. For the first time in my life."

He smiled, his eyes softening. "Me too, [Y/ N]," he said, his voice husky. "I've never felt like this before. You're… you're everything I never knew I was looking for. You make me happy. You make me feel… complete."

He drove you to work, kissed you goodbye, and then you parted ways. As you walked into the flower shop, you were filled with a mix of joy and apprehension. You were so happy, so deeply infatuated with Pedro. You truly believed you were falling in love. But a small voice of doubt whispered in the back of your mind. Could this really last? You were from two different worlds. He was a famous actor, constantly in the public eye, his life a whirlwind of glitz and glamour. You were a flower shop girl, your life grounded in the simple beauty of everyday things. Could you bridge the gap between your two worlds? Could you make it work? Only time would tell.

Thank you for your reading ❣️

[littlelamy]

hiii i have a reqq ^w^, can pretty please do something where reader hallucinates a bit and rafe finds them in the midst of it? like reader is full on having a conversation with the wall… it’d mean a lot since i struggle with hallucinating a bit tytyty p.s. i love your style of writing <33

lamy's note: hi angel <3 thank you for trusting me with this, i hope you like it!

there’s something about the way the air hums that makes your teeth ache. the walls shift, slow, thick like molasses, stretching and curling at the corners, whispering little secrets meant only for you. they know your name, you think. they know everything.

“i told you not to do that,” you say, lips barely moving. the wall ripples, shudders. or maybe that’s just your vision tilting, the floor tilting. your hands are on your lap, fingers twitching against the fabric of your jeans. someone’s sitting across from you, knees pulled up to their chest, but when you blink, it’s just the old dresser, its drawers slightly ajar like a mouth caught mid-sentence.

“yeah, yeah,” you murmur, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. “i get it. but you can’t just—” a breath, heavy, weighted. “you can’t just leave me here.”

there’s no answer. the walls breathe. you’re so tired. you don’t remember the last time you closed your eyes. you don’t remember the last time you slept without dreaming.

then, the floor creaks. different this time. heavier. real.

“jesus—what the fuck?” rafe’s voice, sharp at the edges. not the way it usually is when he’s pissed, no, this is different. this is something like worry, something like fear, though he’ll never admit it. he steps into the room, into your space, crouches down in front of you. “who the hell are you talking to?”

“them,” you whisper, glancing at the dresser, the walls, the space between your knees where the shadows stretch long and thin. “they were just here.”

rafe exhales, runs a hand through his hair. he looks at you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces. like maybe if he stares hard enough, he’ll figure it out. he won’t. you don’t even know what’s real half the time.

“okay,” he says finally, voice lower now, softer. “okay. just—come here, alright?” he reaches for you, hesitant, like you might disappear if he moves too fast. his fingers graze your wrist, solid and warm, an anchor against the pull of whatever’s creeping into the corners of your mind. “just look at me.”

so you do. his face is clearer than the rest of the room, steadier. the walls murmur, but he drowns them out. you let him.

“you’re alright,” he tells you, like it’s a fact. like it’s something unshakable. “i got you.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @drewsephrry

[natalicss]

Glitter & Crimson

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

summary: you and ji-yong live busy lives. as both of you start preparing for new albums and tours, as well as manage long distance during the holiday of love, the pressure of it all seems to get to you. set in the same universe as like we were in paris

warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, reader is working herself too hard, mentions of not eating, not proofread, implied age gap (reader is mid twenties), reader crashes out a lil bit, if i missed any lemme know and ill add it (i still don’t know how to use tumblr)

word count: 4.2K

nat’s notes: hey y’all!! in honor of valentine’s day i wanted to write SOMETHING, and this is what came out. i don’t actually know how romantic this is but…it’s more of american pop star & jiyong sooo im not gonna complain. i also didn’t tag anyone cause…for some reason that scares me so whoops. OH the little divider thing below is by strangergraphics btw

Valentine’s day, a cliche holiday that people often either love or despise. You usually felt pessimistic, for years. For years, you spent the holiday with your friends, going out and drinking nights away, dancing in clubs and wearing flattering outfits. If you weren’t doing that, you were curled up at home surrounded by your favorite snacks as you binged watched your favorite show. You didn’t like Valentine’s day, but you took the day to take care of yourself.

And then you met Ji-yong.

It was almost embarrassing, how easily that man swept you off your feet. A whimsical fairytale of unexpected friends to lovers. He made every day an adventure, one way or another. Never a second did you doubt your love for him. Not even when the two of you went months without seeing each other, swept up in busy schedules. Not even when the two of you kept your relationship a secret from fans and the industry for years. That didn’t go well, considering you two leaked it yourselves by locking lips at a Chanel fashion show…oops.

You grew to love Valentine’s day, the both of you using it as an excuse to share how much you adored and cared about each other even more than you already did. Flowers, chocolates, romantic dates, you two had done it all at this point. So, you couldn’t help but feel a little ache in your heart as you walked into your LA dance studio, getting ready for tour rehearsals. 

While Ji-yong was busy himself with rehearsals, preparing for his new album, his new show, and everything else that comes with G-Dragon’s comeback, you were worrying about your own. Your fifth album was released a couple months ago, and the pending start of your tour was coming quicker than you anticipated. After the fashion show, and a few remaining days with your boyfriend, you had no choice but to return back to America and continue getting ready. You two barely had time to bask in the reality that everybody knew about your relationship, now separated by the ocean.

Your days were filled with chaos. From the Grammys, to meeting with stylists and trying different pieces, to rehearsals for choreography, to overlooking the stage setup and the designs, to picking out your microphones, meeting with various crew members, you barely had a moment to breathe. With the time difference adding on to that, you and Ji-yong found keeping in contact a bit harder than usual. For years, it didn’t matter. If one of you was busy, the other wasn’t, and the two of you could compromise schedules, take phone calls at random times, and find more free time to travel back and forth. But this? This was different. 

You were standing in a large studio with your backup dancers and your choreographer, all of you covered in sweat, your body's aching, and your hearts pounding against your chests. Valentine’s day was this week, and you tried hard not to focus on it. It was your first Valentine’s day that you wouldn’t be with your boyfriend. And while in reality, that wasn’t that big of a deal, it hurt knowing that you weren’t even certain when you’d see him next.

Trying not to dwell on it, you focused on your work. Pushing yourself farther than usual. You moved with precision and acted as if the studio was your stage. Your choreographer, who you’d been working with for years, watched you intently as you and your dancers swung your hips to the beat. You held a microphone to your lips, singing along to your latest single. You strut, looking at the mirror and the would-be crowd. You felt every movement. It burned. It ached. It stung. Your lungs felt like they were going to collapse. You hadn’t worked this hard, this long, since your first world tour. Back then, you felt like you had something to prove. New to the industry, blowing up alongside some of the best artists. You wanted to show that you were meant to be there. 

In a way, you felt like that now. Five albums later, your fourth world tour, and you felt that need to prove that you still were that American pop-princess they crowned you to be. Maybe it was the press finally getting to you. Comments on how your last tour wasn’t as extravagant, how you haven’t been in the media as much the last few years, resulting in a potential downfall in your career. Maybe it was the need to please the fans, knowing they’ve been waiting for almost two years for this tour. Knowing they were going to want it to be good, better than before. Maybe it was your team, who constantly had their own thoughts and opinions on what your setlist should be, what outfits you should wear, where your tour dates should be. It was normal, expected when you’ve been in the industry. Knowing that still didn’t diminish the weight on your shoulders as you moved your legs with an articulate move.

One of your dancers, Raphael, was trying to hide the concern on his face as the two of you continued your dance for another song. He had been one of your dancers since your second tour, and a good friend along the way. He knew you better than most people here, other than maybe your best friend who was quietly watching from the sidelines. He’d seen you working hard like this for weeks. Even before you left for Paris, he had started to get worried as he watched you push and push and push. You could take a lot, you were strong and ambitious, things he admired. But everybody had a limit. 

He thought you would have gotten some rest after your performance in Paris, taking a few days off to spend with Ji-yong before coming back to LA. That had given him some temporary relief. But when you got back, his concern was back more than ever. He noticed how little you did anything else. You were hardly eating, coming into your work days with circles under your eyes, you had started to become more agitated when anyone made mistakes, especially yourself. You barely took breaks. When the other dancers were sitting down, drinking water, eating their lunches, you were still on the floor, practicing harder moves and trying to perfect them.

Raphael was staring at you now, watching as your body faced him, your head still angled towards the mirror as you sang. Your hand pressed into his chest, pushing him slightly as the two of you moved in sync. He walked backwards, watching you closely. Your eyes were glossed over with exhaustion, red from lack of sleep, and your skin was sticky with sweat. His eyes danced over you, watching the way your hand shook holding the microphone. The way your legs started to move with less precision. You missed a note. Other dancers noticed, keeping up with their own routine but sending looks at Raphael and each other. 

You slowly blinked as you moved with them, seemingly out of it. As you spun, everything around you seemed to, too. Your vision blurred, the room rotating in odd angles as you started to stumble in your steps. Part of you knew something was wrong, but another part of you refused to accept it, pushing. You kept the microphone up by your lips, continuing to sing despite the way your lungs were burning for more oxygen. Your choreographer stood up straight, her eyebrows furrowing. You pulled the microphone away to continue a dance break, but as you started the first difficult move, the room began to spin in a nauseating way. 

Your brain couldn't catch up as you started to fall forward. Raphael wrapped an arm around you, yelling your name in panic as the two of you collided with the floor. The choreographer quickly stopped the music, everyone in the room starting to crowd around you. Your friend came over, bottled water in hand, and their phone as they looked you over. In a few moments, your eyes fluttered open, and in the one moment your body stopped overworking you could feel the way every part of you was hurting. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Your choreographer asked, looking you over. “Give them some room,” Dancers started to step back, their eyes never leaving you. You groaned, sitting up slowly as Raphael kept a hand on your shoulder. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” You answered shortly, reaching for the water in your friends hand. “I just haven’t drank enough water today. I’m good.”

Raphael and your friend shared knowing looks. “Y/N, maybe you should take a minute. You just passed out, again-” “I’m fine!” The two of them watched as you pushed off the floor harshly. You still swayed in your steps, but you remained upwards. You started chugging the water, crushing the plastic before throwing it towards the trashcan. You shook your limbs, as if that would erase the exhaustion. “Again!” 

Raphael clenched his jaw, knowing that you couldn’t go on like this. If you did, tour wasn’t going to last more than a couple shows. You had passed out at a practice a couple weeks ago, too. When you and your crew were getting ready for the Gala Des Pièces Jaunes event, you had over-exerted yourself and collapsed. That time, Raphael hadn’t been able to catch you, and you had landed harshly on the floor. And though he had been there to catch you this time, you might not be so lucky if you were on stage. He looked in the direction of your friend, who was back on the side lines. They were thinking the same thing.

But you weren’t listening. At every concerned comment your friend made, you brushed it off with a dismissive huff, and any time Raphael suggested to you to rest, or eat, or take a day off, you shot back with a snarky remark. You were too busy to take a break. You had too much counting on this tour. You had to be perfect.

So, they had to reach out to the one person you would listen to.

Ji-yong was entirely unaware of exactly how much work you were putting yourself through. He knew you were busy, as he was doing many of the same things you were. And sure, he noticed some tension in your voice when he asked you about your days, but he thought it was just anxiety. You’d always been so nervous when big projects were coming up. It was what made your shows so amazing, the way you cared about your work, your fans. The message was clear in every lyric, every dance, and more. 

So, when he got a phone call mid-afternoon from Raphael, he was a little confused. The two of them were friends, of course, but they hardly talked one-on one. Still, he answered it, bringing his phone to his ear as he excused himself from the room filled with management. “Hello?”

“Hi, sorry to bother you man,” Raphael says. In his voice, Ji-yong can here something that he couldn’t exactly place. Like something was lurking behind his tone.

“No, it’s fine,” Ji-yong says kindly. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a lingering silence, some shuffling on the other end. Raphael sighs as he takes a moment to find the right words. “No, uh, not really. It’s Y/N.”

Ji-yong tenses, his thumb playing with the rings on his fingers. “What’s going on?” He asks warily.

“Has she told you about the tour?”

“Parts.” Ji-yong says, trying hard to keep his tone light and unnerved. “She’s been busy, so we haven’t talked about it in detail.”

Raphael scoffs slightly, “She’s been busy, alright.” Ji-yong hears Raphael shuffle more, “We’re worried about her, man. She’s been working herself to the bone.”

Ji-yong blinks. “Is she stressed?” He thinks about all the things the two of you did to cope with anxiety. Whether it was breathing exercises, meditation, listening to music, he thinks about mentioning it to him-

“She’s more than that. She’s barely sleeping, eating, she passed out at practice again–”

“What do you mean again?”

Raphael exhales loudly, “She didn’t tell you about that either?” He is chuckling lowly. Ji-yong is looking at the floor, his mind all over the place. “For that gala, she was working so much, she fainted at practice a couple days before the show.”

Ji-yong is pacing, unable to stop himself. How had you not told him? How had he not noticed? He always asked you if you ate that day, he always texted you little reminders to eat breakfast, drink water. You had always done the same for him, too, knowing his own struggles with his mental health and working himself too hard. A guilty ache in his gut made him suddenly feel uncomfortable in his skin.

“She’s not listening to anybody. We’ve all tried telling her to take a break, to eat, to take a fucking nap. She just gets mad.” Raphael’s words make Ji-yong wince, painfully understanding what that was like. “Which is why I called you.”

Ji-yong is looking around the building he’s in, looking out the window. Seoul moved around him like it always had. His team was in a room just a few feet away, working away at his album, his tour, his press tours. And yet, all of that felt silly now as he thought about you. His partner who he truly cared about more than himself. He clenched his jaw, scratching at his hair as he tries to think clearly. He could call you, scold you for your carelessness for yourself and try to knock some sense into you. But he knew you better than that, just like you did. You knew how upset he’d be at you for working too hard, so you hadn’t mentioned it, leaving out key points in conversation. And he knew you wouldn’t listen, not to a phone call. 

So, desperate times call for desperate measures.

As the week of Valentines continued, so did you. You continued working hard, refusing to acknowledge worried comments from your co-workers. Even your manager had tried to say something, only to get snapped at (which didn’t happen often). If your choreographer conveniently got sick, like today, that didn’t stop you from going to the studio and continuing practice alone. 

The music blared from the speakers, but your own heavy breathing and the squeaking of tennis shoes was louder in your ears. You chose not to sing today, the only leniency you’d give your body. Instead, you focused on the set, practicing a new song that was going to be released with the deluxe version of your album. You moved your arms with the music, tilting your body in various directions, imagining your dancers were there to help create the perfect image. You swing your body in a sensual motion, sinking lower to the ground. Your body was screaming at you, almost begging you to stop as you stood back up. You glared at your own reflection. You could see it. The exhaustion. The stress. You could feel the pressure scratching into your muscles like claws.

Tears pricked your eyes as you stared at yourself. You had lost weight, probably from the lack of meals and the extreme amounts of exercise. Your eyes red with bags under them. You looked almost sick, from how tired you were. You could feel it. And yet you didn’t let your body stop. As a particularly intense part came up, tears streamed down your pale cheeks as you pushed. Every move was hit exactly as it should be. Extreme, fast, smooth, and a hint of flirtation as you beamed at the mirror like your fans were watching from the other side. You ignored the way your throat burned at the sobs threatening to escape you. You ignored the way your arms were aching every time you moved. You ignored how your feet suddenly felt to heavy to move.

Until you hit the floor.

Your legs had given out on you, letting you land in a heap of limbs. You scrunch your face up in pain, tears falling more rapidly. You pushed yourself up slowly, staring down at the floor like it had pulled you down. It wasn’t good enough. You weren’t good enough. This tour was going to fall apart, and it’d be entirely your fault. Your fans would be disappointed, your dancers and your crew would lose their jobs, your team would be mad at you, and you would have to face it all alone-

You let out a scream of frustration, slamming your hands against the floor repeatedly. The scream eventually contorted into a strangled sob. Your body shook, no longer having the energy to get up. You leaned back down, your forehead resting against the floor a you heaved. All of the stress, the overbearing pressure, the weeks of working hours and hours a day. It all washes over you like a bone crushing tsunami. 

You didn’t notice the door opening, something dropping to the floor, and running footsteps until someone grabs you.

Initially, you flinch at the touch. Expecting it to be Raphael or your friend, you shoot up from the floor, trying to scoot away from them. But instead, you’re facing a wide-eyed mint-haired Ji-yong. Your boyfriend. Who was, last you checked, supposed to be in Seoul, not LA. 

You blink. Were you hallucinating? For a moment, he just stared at you. He’d never seen you like this. Stressed? Tired? Absolutely. But this was different. Oddly reminiscent of his own past. The thought shook him to his core. His expression softened as he reached for you, his hand falling on your shoulder. You looked back at him, his touch bringing you back to reality. This was real, he was in front of you, and he’d just walked into your studio to see you in a pile of tears. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice hoarse. You look him over, he looked in much better condition than you. Except for the worry in his eyes that made you shrink back into your guilt.

“Your friends called me.” Ji-yong explains, reaching up and pushing your hair out of your face. You felt warm to the touch, too warm. “They’re worried about you, and so am I,” You looked away from him. You didn’t want to face the guilt, the anxiety, the feelings bubbling up in you the last few weeks. “Talk to me,”

You could only shrug, meek. You looked around the studio. “It’s not going to work.” You whisper. He frowns. “The tour. It’s going to fail. I’m going to mess up, or it’s not going to be good enough, and everyone is going to hate it, and I can’t risk that. I can’t mess this up-”

“Jagiya,” Ji-yong’s voice cuts through the air with an unexpected warmth. You look at him. “All of this will be perfect, but none of this is worth basically killing yourself for.” He slides closer to you, “You can’t give it your all if you’re like this. You of all people know that.” He was right. His clear calm words sinking into you. “You’re not going to mess this up. You’re not going to disappoint anyone. You’re not going to fail.” You feel tears roll down your face, and then you feel his touch. As he wipes them away, you lean into his palm for comfort. 

“I missed you,” You whimper.

“I missed you, beautiful,” He whispered back. Slowly, you came forward. You let his arms wrap around you as you curled into his chest, letting out a slow sigh as you finally let your body relax. He ran his fingers through your hair, holding you close. He rested his chin on top of your head, sitting in silence for a moment. His heart hurt with you, for you. You had always been your own biggest critic, he shared a similar testament for himself. But seeing you like this, something so unlike you, made his chest ache. “For the rest of the week, you’re relaxing.”

You sit up again, wide, fearful eyes looking at his calm ones. “I can’t! We have dress rehearsal-”

“You’re not arguing with me on this. Your choreographer already agreed.” His tone was slightly more stern, remaining soft whilst still showing how serious he was. You pressed your lips into a line. “I’m here all week, and you and I are both going to rest.” 

“But you have so much to do. The album-”

“Can wait a few days. I promise.” He lifts your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Let’s get home. I’ll run you a bath and we can watch your favorite show.”

You stare at him, pondering the offer. But he can see as your expression softens, the dark cloud looming over your features fading away. “Can we make hot cocoa?” You ask quietly. 

He can only smile. “Of course.” He tells you. You crack a smile, then. He slowly starts to stand up, pulling you with him. As he turns to grab your bags, you tug at his wrist. He spins back to face you, gasping as you kiss him harshly. His hands find their home on your waist, pulling you into him. It had been a few weeks since the two of you saw each other, and neither of you expected your reunion to go like this. You poured out every feeling into the kiss, letting him know just how much you missed him, how much you loved him, how truly excited you were to see him underneath your layers of exhaustion. 

He never let go of your hand, managing to carry both your dance bag and the bag he’d haphazardly packed before basically running to the airport in one hand. The two of you looked at each other, the conversation slowly flowing into non-work related things. It was like he could see the weight lifting off your shoulders. His presence alone bringing some sort of peace to you. He knew you needed this, and in a way he needed it too.

And when Valentine’s day finally rolled around, he’d made sure to pull out the stops. You’d woken up to breakfast in bed, a ribbon-wrapped box with an expensive necklace, flowers, flowers, and more flowers. You’d done what you could for him, too. Getting him some new rings and scarves, a sentimental handwritten note filled with words of adoration and love. For part of the day, the two of you stayed in your tangled sheets. Fingers tracing bare skin and soft kisses. Whispers of love and arms wrapped around bodies. 

When the evening came, Ji-yong had told you to dress nice. The two of you ended up at your favorite restaurant, the first nice place you took him to when he came to visit you for the first time. Of course he’d been in LA plenty of times before, but the time with you was different. It was more special than all the rest. And now, he remembered that fondly as he watches you sit at the same table (merely a coincidence, or fate he thinks), your eyes finally filled with that familiar love and light. You looked at him, smiling wide. He could die happy knowing he was ever the cause of that smile. 

“I love you, you know.” You said casually, admiring him. He blinks, his cheeks flushing a soft pink that was still noticeable in the warm light. You tilted your head, smiling even more. This is it, you think. This is what you wanted life to be like. You and Ji-yong. You realize that everything else could disappear, fall apart, slip from your grasp, but as long as you had him you’d be okay. This wasn’t the first time marriage crossed your mind, but it was the first time you ever imagined your wedding and confidently believed it would eventually become reality. The idea of walking down the aisle to your Ji-yong. Picturing him looking at you dressed in white. Spending the rest of your life with him. It all seemed like a dream, but it felt like it was all exactly what you wanted.

Ji-yong reaches for your hand over the table. He’s sure he’d never let you go if he had the choice. He looks at you, watching the way you’re glowing even in the dim lights. The way you looked at him enough to make him melt. He knew that you were it for him. You were the person he wanted to come home to every night. The person he wanted to kiss every day before he walked out the door. The person he would hold when he was upset. The person he’d bicker with until you were grey and old. The person he’d have a family with. It wasn’t a question, and there wasn’t another possibility to him. It was all a matter of time. Whether it was tomorrow, next week, next year, whenever. He didn’t know where his life was taking him, but he knew it was all going to be with you.

“I love you, too.”

[florencebirdsong]

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I just saw you’ve opened your requests for this day, so I have a request ;)

Witch!agatha x innocent!human!fem!reader, after AAA, Agatha falls in love with an ordinary human and for the first time in her life she is clumsy when flirting and approaching reader - that's how special her crush on this human is-

I ADORE your writing

Happy Valentine's Day! Thank you so much for the request!!

This is less clumsy and more awkward and stiff but I hope you still enjoy. She's just a silly billy who doesn't know how to handle her emotions :)

And thank you!!! That means so much <3

Valentine’s Day Event 2025

Tags: very slight angst, hint of dominating Agatha, ficlet

Agatha’s presence fills a room. Her eyes see through everyone she meets. She skilfully navigates everyone that’s thrown at her. There isn’t a person who’s properly met her who hasn’t been left with a strong impression. Except you. She barely looks at you. You’ve only ever managed to catch her in the corner of your eye, but even then it could just be in your direction.

You can’t figure out why and any one you’ve been brave enough to ask hasn’t either. Some have even said that it’s a good thing. You don’t understand how. You ache with longing every time you see her sharp smile directed at someone else.

It takes the sixth social gathering in a row where she has interacted with every one but you to find the courage to ask. It’s one of the rare occasions where it’s held at her place and you take advantage of the fact that everyone seems to leave all at once.

It feels strange to linger when the host doesn’t acknowledge you but you draw on every bit of courage you have to stay.

“Not rushing out?” Agatha says from behind you.

You jump in surprise and whirl around. Her face is emotionless. Not even the usual amusement from scaring someone displayed.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you say, gaze stuck firmly on the floor.

There’s a very long pause before she says,

“Alright,” and gestures at the purple lounge.

Instead of choosing another chair she sits next to you. You sit ramrod straight in your nervousness and you can’t help casting a quick glance at her every few seconds. She’s so close. 

She has been before, technically. When talking in or group or accidentally brushing up against you but that never lasts long and it’s never been just the two of you.

Her gaze has wandered over to the window. A curtain has curled back just enough for a peak at the moon.

“Agatha?” you ask, valiantly trying to hide how nervous you are. She hums vaguely, eyes still looking out the window. Swallowing hard, you make yourself continue. “Why don’t you like me?”

Her head snaps towards you. “Excuse me?”

You try not to cringe. You knew it had been a stupid question and yet you asked anyway. Now you have to try and survive her sharp words. One of the few times she looks directly at you and you can’t even meet her eyes. It’s a major loss, especially with what’s about to happen, but you don’t think you’d be able to survive seeing the annoyance or hate in her eyes when she insults you.

You flinch in surprise when she grips your chin and forces your gaze to meet hers.

“Me liking you isn’t the problem,” she says. Her voice is low and you try to brace yourself. “The problem is that I like you too much.”

Her nails dig slightly into your skin and your eyes widen in surprise. You don’t even get a chance to think of a response before her lips are against yours. It’s not a feeling you’re familiar with but you lean into her warmth eagerly. Agatha makes an encouraging sound that has you melting. It’s not long until her hands go from supporting to pushing and you find yourself being slowly lowered to lay down on the couch. You follow happily until you realise where this is going. You put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She pulls back with a raised eyebrows.

“Have a different position in mind?” she asks with the hint of a smirk.

“Yes- I mean no- I- ,” you force yourself to take breath. She’s overwhelming enough from across the room. Having her so intensely focused on you is disorientating. “I haven’t…done anything like that before.”

You swear her eyes darken.

“That’s alright,” she murmurs as she leans closer. Your eyes drop to her lips. “I’ve waited this long for you. I can wait a bit longer.” She moves her hands again but instead of pushing you to lay down she pulls you into her. “I’ll take of you,” she promises.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

family time. l Frankie "Catfish" Morales

Summary: you came back from your parents in a really bad mental state

Warnings: angst, toxic parents, crying, emotional crisis, mentioning therapy, guilt

A/N: this is something i've been wanting to write for a while now. remember that what you feel is important and don't be afraid to ask for help, even professional help.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Frankie Morales masterlist]

He knew something was wrong even before the first words left your lips. Even the grating of the key in the lock was different. You took off your shoes differently, and the bag you had in your hand fell to the floor with a dull thud.

"Hi, honey." Frankie's large hands cupped your face, and familiar lips brushed yours. "I missed you."

You didn't answer. The only thing you did was snuggle into his broad chest and cling to him so tightly that for a moment he wondered if you had decided to crush his ribs. The smile disappeared from his face, and soon he was stroking your back, trying to understand what had happened.

"Long trip?" he asked. 

You had spent almost the entire last week at your parents' house, but if Frankie could be honest, he could see that you didn't feel like going there at all. Your mother had once again reproached you for not visiting them and not caring about your parents at all. With the look of a scolded child, you packed your bag and went to do your unpleasant duty.

"That was horrible." You mumbled quietly, your shoulders relaxing slightly. "Next time, please remind me to break my leg so I don't have to go there."

"Hey, hermosa." Frankie sighed and with no small effort, he pulled away to arms' length, his sweet brown eyes staring at you intently. "What happened?"

A quiet sigh escaped your lips. There was everything in it.

"What could have happened?" You asked rhetorically, freeing yourself from his arms and dragging yourself towards the living room where you collapsed on the couch. You grabbed one of the pillows and held it tightly to your chest like a shield. "It was like usual. I went there, from the moment I stepped inside I felt like a child who came home with a bad grade. First there was dinner, because I definitely can't cook and only my mom knows how to prepare meals." Frankie sat down next to you, rested his arm on the headrest and listened to you carefully with a small wrinkle between his eyebrows. "Dad noticed a scratch on the bumper of the car so he said that I can't drive and I shouldn't..."

"But I was the one who had the meeting with the shopping cart." Frankie interrupted you, surprised.

"Oh! I didn't tell them that." You snorted, shaking your head. "I didn't want to give them a gun before the evening news. But don't worry, they remembered you."

Frankie gulped. Your parents were...specific. He would be lying if he said he liked them, but he never spoke ill of them. Even when you were spilling your grievances and tears, Frankie just listened and patted you on the back. He didn't want to tell you that, but he had felt from the beginning that this trip wouldn't bring you anything good.

"I shouldn't have gone there at all." You said quietly as if you were reading his mind, your gaze fixed somewhere on the wall opposite "I always hope that it will be different, but I always come back broken into a thousand pieces..."

"Baby..." Frankie carefully brushed the hair away from your face and noticed how you bit your lip trying to stop yourself from falling apart "Maybe next time I'll go with you?"

You chuckled "Better not. As much as I would appreciate it, they... I don't want to talk about it, Frankie. I'm sorry."

"Hey," he moved closer, a warm hand resting on your knee and squeezing it lightly "You have nothing to apologize for, you didn't do anything wrong. We can talk about it when you feel up to it."

You nodded. He kissed your temple, inhaling your pleasant scents

He knew you so well that he knew that what you held inside was eating you alive. Despite everything, he didn't ask or push. Frankie knew that when you were ready, you would finally tell him everything, and he would be ready to listen and give you everything he could.

So for the next two days you pretended that everything was fine, even though you were clearly devastated. It wasn't until the third day passed and Frankie brought freshly washed and folded clothes to the bedroom that he heard a quiet sob from behind the bathroom door.

"Sweetie?" he knocked on the door "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine..." you replied trying to hide your sobs, it squeezed his heart.

"You don't sound like it." he replied "Will you open the door, please?"

The lock creaked softly and Frankie pushed the door open slightly. Although he expected you to eventually crack, he wasn't prepared for the sight. Something sank inside him the moment his eyes landed on your face. 

You had only just managed to take off your clothes, which were now lying on the tiles. You stood before him in your underwear, make-up turning into black spots under your eyes, your lips swollen and eyes red, your hair a mess.

"What's wrong with me?" you groaned and more tears rolled down your cheeks. "No matter what I do and what I don't do, I'll never be good enough for them... And I try so hard and..."

"Hermosa, please..." he tried to touch you, to show you that he was with you, but you pulled away and Frankie respected that immediately.

You gasped for breath between sobs, the heat rolling through your body, and the bathroom was becoming more and more claustrophobic. Only him standing before you seemed as real as ever, his soft brown eyes staring at you with a mixture of fear, sadness and concern. 

"I'm trying, Frankie..." you finally said in a shaking voice "Every day. I keep trying to meet their expectations, but I can't do anything to reach the bar they set for me. Why? Why can't they see that?" you sucked in a breath, he knew you were trying to hold back a sob to finally get it all out of you. He'll accept it, bear it, he'll do anything for you. "Ever since I was a kid I've always been not enough for them. Not smart enough, not talented enough, not pretty enough... They kept repeating it, and their words have seeped into my brain, that I'm no longer able to think about myself differently. And I read all these smart books, listen to these podcasts that tell me it's bullshit. I know the fucking theory, but I can't... Fuck!" 

You pressed your hands to your eyes and sat on the edge of the tub. You didn't see, but you heard and felt Frankie move closer, then crouched down in front of you, his arms wrapping around your legs. Warm lips brushed your thighs.

"I thought time would make it easier. But I'm still on some invisible leash. I feel guilty... I feel inadequate and..." your voice broke.

"Say it, hermosa." he said quietly.

He knew you had to get it out, only then could you feel better. No matter what the words were, once you said them you'd get them out and then he could do something about it.

"I feel unworthy of love..."

Something sank even deeper in his chest.

"I was driving here to you, wondering why you were even with me when I was like this. You deserve someone who isn't as fucked up as I am and... I'm sorry."

Your hands rested where Frankie had kissed you just a moment ago, your nervous fingers twisting, and you tried to calm your breathing. Only after a few seconds did his warm voice break the silence.

"Can I say something, honey?" you nodded and greedily grabbed his fingers when his hands touched yours. "I won't lie, your parents are fucked up. No, listen." you opened and closed your mouth immediately. "When I met you, I thought nothing good would ever happen to me in life. And here I am, living with the most wonderful woman I've ever met in my life. You're beautiful, smart, quick-witted, funny and sassy. I love every single thing about you, even the things that piss me off sometimes. And you know why? Because it's you."

The grimace that appeared on your face was probably supposed to be a smile, but new tears rolled down behind it.

"I'm angry that these people make you feel this way. Parents shouldn't do this, I don't know why they can't see how amazing you are, but it's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

"They want what's best for me. Maybe if I..."

"If you had a daughter, if you saw her the way I see you now, would you tell her it was for her own good? I don't think so. That's not love, honey. That's some sick ambition, and you shouldn't care about it."

"They're my parents, Frankie. I can't help but care."

"You'd be surprised to know how many people in the world feel the way you do, and how many have cut themselves off from people like that in order to heal."

You knew he was right. Deep inside you knew that Frankie was telling the truth and you would say those words to anyone who was in a similar situation. But when it comes to you...

"I told you once that I went to therapy, remember?" he said after a moment of silence, you nodded "Maybe... Maybe you should think about meeting with someone to talk, to sort things out in your head. You know, honey, that I will always listen to you, but a professional can teach you, give you the tools to deal with it."

You looked at him with resignation. "Won't you think I'm crazy then?"

"Oh, please!" he smiled and placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb stroking your damp skin. "It takes a lot of courage, that's what you told me, remember? I want you to feel better, and if it can help you, then I totally support you in this."

"Thank you."

Now you managed to smile, weakly but it was a success. Frankie stood up and brushed his lips against yours. You stood up too and snuggled into him, the strong beating of his heart calming you down, grounding you. A sense of security and peace slowly began to fill you. You already knew that even if you didn't get rid of these thoughts as quickly as you wanted, this guy would be with you despite everything. He didn't judge you, he didn't criticize you, he didn't say you were overreacting. What you felt was real and important to him, he wanted the best for you.

"I love you, Frankie." You whispered, hugging him even tighter.

He smiled, kissed the top of your head, "I love you more, hermosa."

"I think... I think I smeared my mascara on your shirt."

"Never mind." Frankie chuckled, "But I can draw you a hot bath, bring you a glass of wine and..."

"Will you join me?"

You pulled away and looked at him. God only knew how much he loved you, and in moments like these he felt it in every cell of his body. 

"Always." he replied, pecking your lips, "Always."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[reverie-starlight]

happy valentine's day!! please be kind to me. this is my first time writing for baji, so I'm still figuring out characterization!! sorry if he's a bit ooc :'). not edited.

fem!reader, no physical descriptions. reader has a dog, baji is down bad and sucks at flirting, you find it endearing. this got kind of long. fluff, first dates. TR MANGA ENDING SPOILERS!!!

the front door swings open, and a little bell (part of a defective cat toy that they couldn’t sell- kazutora’s idea) signals that a new customer has walked in.

baji almost can’t believe his eyes when he looks up from his textbook. he barely has enough time to compose himself before you glance at him, but he manages, and gives you a quick smile and a nod. he’s worried that if he speaks, he’ll stumble over his words and make a fool out of himself.

you’re gorgeous.

absolutely stunning, actually, and he can’t picture this interaction going very well for him if past experiences are anything to go by.

you’ve been in here before, he’s exchanged a few words with you when he’s had to ring you up, but that’s about it. even then, he had stumbled through grabbing your change from the register and wishing you a nice day.

usually chifuyu or kazutora are the ones to help you find what you need, but one of them is on lunch and the other isn’t scheduled to come in until later.

he silently curses them both for leaving him alone now of all times, but he knows his frustration is misplaced.

he’s just nervous because you’re here, and you look like that, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to get through this without revealing his massive crush on you.

maybe him working alone right now is a blessing in disguise- he doesn’t have to deal with his friends’ teasing about his new ‘girlfriend’.

he doesn’t even know your name, but he’d sure as hell like to.

he lets you look around for a minute while he gathers up the courage to ask you if you need help finding anything.

when you go down aisle four, he takes in a deep breath and mentally hypes himself up.

c’mon keisuke, this is pathetic. you used to fight off loads of guys at once, you can talk to the pretty girl.

as soon as he breaks out of his thoughts and moves to find you, he blinks once and you’re suddenly right in front of him.

he thinks he'd actually rather be back in a ten versus one right about now.

“hi,” you say, sporting a sheepish grin. “could you help me find the leashes and collars?”

his mind goes blank and he's unable to form any words, letting the silence linger long enough for it to deemed incredibly uncomfortable.

“uh…” you adjust your grip on the strap of your bag apprehensively. “I checked aisle four, ‘cause that’s where they usually are, but I couldn’t find them…” you shift on your feet, clearly not sure how to take his reaction to your question.

this snaps him out of it immediately and he nods. “right, we’re movin' stuff around to make room for some new inventory,” he finally responds.

your smile is bright and reassuring, like you somehow know he’s having a tough time forming full sentences. “oh, well that explains it!”

he swallows the last of his nerves and nods, finding himself smiling with you. “yeah,” he regains use of his body and leads you down aisle seven. “the leashes and collars should be down here now… what kind were ya looking for?”

“anything fit for medium dogs. adjustable, so she can grow into it.”

he nods again, checking the different styles and brands, thinking for a moment. “hmm… what breed?”

“a husky,” you reply, and he likes the way your eyes shine with excitement. “so something that’s good for dogs that pull, ideally.”

he hums and forces himself to break eye contact so that he doesn’t lose track of what he’s doing. "a puppy?"

"yeah, finally old enough to start taking her on walks but she's already a handful."

“cute," he chuckles. "if you’re trying to limit pulling, why don’t you try the gentle leader instead of a heavy duty collar?”

you tilt your head and he worries for a second that you’ll be able to hear his heart pounding against his chest with the brief silence. “I think I’ve heard of that, but how does it work?”

“it’s meant to go around their snout and tug on them when they get ahead of themselves. it doesn't hurt 'em though, just turns their head to the side."

you hum and he almost spaces out again watching you inspect the box he hands you. he thinks he'd very much like to have you pay that much attention to him one day.

then you smile up at him and say "alright, I'll take it!"

"great, I'll check you out- wait not like that, I mean ring you up-" his face burns as he stumbles over his words and you giggle a bit, following him back over to the cash register.

"thanks for your help... baji," you say, leaning over a bit to read his nametag and hand him some cash.

"no problem," he puts your items in the bag, wondering if he should finally ask for your name too.

then something interesting happens.

he watches as you fiddle with your bags, seemingly taking your time getting your things together. your eyes flicker up to meet his briefly and his heart does something funny in his chest as he allows himself to hope he's picking up the right vibe from you.

finally you seem to come to a conclusion and shake your head slightly and smile at him once more before finally leaving with a murmured, "see ya."

the hope deflates as the bell rings and you walk out of XJ Land. next time, keisuke, he thinks to himself, and opens up his abandoned animal science textbook now that the shop is empty again.

a few minutes later, chifuyu comes back from his break and nods at baji, holding up a bag of takeout. "I got us some lunch from that place down the-"

the bell rings one more time and chifuyu jumps out of the way to avoid being knocked out by the door you flung open.

baji raises an eyebrow, his heart doing something funny in his chest as you march up to him, a determined look on your face.

"hey... would you like to go out with me sometime?"

one week later you're sitting on the floor of your room trying to figure out what on earth to wear for your date with baji keisuke (you learned his full name when he put his number in your phone and set up his contact info).

after you had barged back into the pet shop and slammed your palms on the counter to ask him out, you've texted a fair bit back and forth trying to figure out a good day for both of you.

during your conversations, you learned that aside from working at XJ Land, he's also studying to become a vet and that's why he usually has a textbook with him in the shop. he's funny, very thoughtful as well, which is a nice surprise. you've had your eye on him for a while. every time you'd go into the shop to grab something, you'd do everything you could to talk to him, but someone else always managed to help you out before you had a chance.

so when you walked by that day and noticed he was working alone? you knew you had to make your move (...even if it took you a minute to build up the courage to do so).

he even offered to plan the date and pick you up, which you agreed to right away once you had set a date (friday- today), but left you with no hints on how to dress.

something keeps drawing you to him- you're not sure if it's his hair or the set of fangs that poke through when he smiles, but you're certain that you can't just let him pass by you and stay curious forever.

you finally land on an outfit that you believe would work for any occasion and spend whatever time you had left dealing with the finishing touches before you hear a knock on your door.

right on time.

you open up to see your date holding flowers and sporting a warm smile.

"hi," he greets you, holding out the bouquet. the tag attatched to it has your name scrawled in slightly messy handwriting, but it's legible all the same. his handwriting, perhaps?

"these are beautiful," you say, taking them and admiring them. you hold the door open a bit wider and welcome him in. "I'm just going to put these in some water before we go."

he nods and shuts the door behind him as you walk to the kitchen to find some sort of makeshift vase to put the bouquet into. you hear your dog rustle around in her crate and shush her a little, trying to soothe her. "it's okay, I'll be back in a few hours."

once you're done with the flowers and you've slipped the puppy a treat through the bars, you head back out to the front entrance and smile at him. "you look very nice, by the way," you say, admiring his black leather jacket and button down shirt.

it seems like you dressed appropriately after all.

"thanks," he says, "you um. you definitely outshine me," his delivery is a bit awkward and he looks like he regrets it as soon as he closes his mouth.

you giggle and put your coat on. "thank you, baji."

"uh, I haven't seen your dog around, I remember ya mentioned she's still a puppy... will she be okay?" he asks as you lock your door and start heading towards the elevator.

your heart warms at the thought of him remembering that. "that's sweet of you to ask. she's still too young to be left alone for more than an hour, but my friend is stopping by later to spend time with her while I'm gone."

you make casual conversation about how his most recent exam went among other things until you make it outside. you let him lead the way to his ride and come to a stop in front of his... motorcycle?

"you ride a motorcycle?" you ask, in awe of the way he pulls out a helmet and hands it to you.

"mhm, I've been ridin' since I was a teenager. you're in good hands, don't worry."

like you were in doubt.

"have you ever ridden before?" he tilts his head and helps you onto the back of the bike.

"no, but I've always wanted to."

he grins and you can't help but smile back when his fangs pop out again. he helps you fasten the helmet and then gets settled, starting up the bike. "hold on to me, we don't want ya falling off."

so you do, letting yourself get impossibly close to him as you ride off into the night, both secretly hoping that this will be the start of something incredible.

had to cut it off kinda abruptly, but hope you enjoyed!! trust that there will be a lottt more baji in the coming months, I adore him :(( this feels a bit choppy, even to me, but I'll get better at writing him, I swear.

thank you @softshuji for helping me out with some of the finer details, I so so soooo appreciate it !!! <3

@emmyrosee hehe here it issss

[harmonic-intervention]

It's a long way back to you

"I need you to be brave one more time. And come back to me."

And we're back with the fix-its. I've been writing on four different WIPs - that's why it's taking me so long to finish a single one. But here we go.

Word count: 15,170 - getting back together, near death experiences, coma, it's tommy's turn to see how he affected people

Excerpt:

Tommy woke up in utter comfort. The room was dark, the there was a mountain of pillows around him, and there was not a single ache to be felt in his body. He took a deep breath and let it out, content to just lie there and doze a bit. Until Odin would come to remind him of his feeding time, that was.

He closed his eyes, not bothering to try and check the time. His brain was a little foggy, still, and if there was no alarm set, that meant Tommy had a late shift. He could sleep in a little bit, or at least relax until the day officially started with the screams of his beloved cat.

Only he realized, at some point, that enough time must have passed. Odin should be scratching at the door like a lunatic. He’d stopped doing it with claws out, but he had found the right amount of pressure to make a truly awful sound against the wood that grated on Tommy’s nerves enough to chase him out of bed in record time.

With a furrowed brow, Tommy threw the covers off and moved into an upright position. He fumbled around for the light on his nightstand, and that was where things started being strange. Well, stranger than his little cat buddy missing the opportunity to scream at him.

He couldn’t find the switch for his lamp. He felt along the cord, but it was nowhere to be found. He furrowed his brow. He was pretty sure switches couldn’t just disappear, but no matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t find it. Finally, he fumbled around for his phone to use the light from the lock screen. The lamp was different. It didn’t have a switch on the cord, but a little string to pull on.

What the hell?

Tommy turned off his phone without taking a look on the screen. He pulled on the string, and light illuminated the room, and Tommy quickly took notice of all the other things that made absolutely no sense at all.

This wasn’t his room. This wasn’t his furniture. The closet was gone, replaced by a sliding door. The door and the window had switched sides. Speaking of the window, there were still blackout blinds on it, but it was much larger than the one he was used to. On the other side, in a corner, was another door. Maybe a bathroom? Tommy’s room definitely didn’t have a bathroom connected.

What was going on?

He tried to remember what he’d done the night before, but he came up blank. He’d been- he’d been at home, right? Had he gotten black-out drunk and gone home with someone? But- no, he wouldn’t do that, because Odin needed to be fed. Even at his drunkest, Tommy always remembered that he had to get home and feed Odin.

He got up, realizing that he was dressed in his usual sleepwear – sweatpants and a sleeveless top. Something wasn’t right. As soon as he stood up, his head felt worse, foggier and heavier than before.

With a deep breath, took a step forward, and when he didn’t immediately collapse, he kept at it, opening the door. He half expected someone to jump him as soon as he stepped out, but nothing happened. He looked around the hallway, but there was nothing that sparked a moment of recognition.

He decided to walk down the hall to where he could see the top of a staircase, and went down with quiet steps. When he was a child, he’d perfected a near silent gait when that became one of the things that kept him from getting the shit kicked out of him.

Downstairs, he wondered if he should just make a break for it and get to the front door and out of this house before whoever lived here found him, but just as that thought crossed his mind, he heard a little meow from the floor and he felt two small paws standing on the back of his foot.

He looked down, a smile already on his face, and it only brightened at the sight of a cute little calico rubbing her head against his shin. He lowered himself down and offered his hand which she accepted readily, nuzzling into the palm of his hand.

“Hi there,” he murmured. “Who’re you?”

She purred in reply, and he was about to right himself up when a voice spoke from close-by, a voice he knew too well and loved too much for what happened, and he almost jumped right of his skin.

“Morning, honey.”

[continue on ao3]

[meritski]

no (hyoid) bone to pick • heizou x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of suicide, murder, blood, and corpses (nothing very detailed but please be aware) , reader is a forensic scientist

“Regarding the victim’s past mental health problems and the medicine she has been using for the past months, her suicide can be explained by the depression she’s been experiencing. The divorce must have taken a toll on her. Poor soul, may she rest in peace.”

Heizou gave the man in front of him a close-eyed smile, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes at all. ‘Bullshit.’ The interview was not going to his liking, it seemed. 

“Ah, I see. Thank you for your input and contribution.”

The man’s eyes lit up immediately. 

“So, May I take my lea—”

“Ah, there is my favorite doctor!”

Heizou stood up quickly, leaving the man hanging in the room while not batting an eye. Intentionally, of course.

On the other hand, hearing his loud and somewhat energetic voice, you sighed while arranging the papers that were in your hands. You seemed tired, he noted. And worst of all, you seemed in a bad mood. Ah.

“Hey.”

It was a simple, curt response. One that he expected but didn’t like it nonetheless. He decided he wasn’t going to dampen your mood by wasting your time even more like he usually did. 

“Got any news?”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Not good ones, I suppose?”

“Well, good for the investigation.”

“Oh, they must be bad then.”

“It’s probably not a suicide,”

Hearing him hum in acknowledgment, you sighed and thought: ‘Of course, he’d guess’ and continued. 

“Their hyoid bone is fractured and they are past 30, which means their bones are not flexible at all, also since they don’t weigh much— It’s unlikely for the hanging to cause a fracture. So I’d say it’s most likely to be a…”

You were giving a piece of important information while his thoughts were having none of it.

‘Are they rambling? Cute.’

“Yeah, guessed so.”

“I could guess you’d guess, detective. I am afraid that’s all I got. I wasn’t even allowed in the medical examination room, and the autopsy reports are—”

“Whoa, you sneaked a peek for me? My my, aren’t you adorable—”

“Shut up.”

He laughed. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, his presence was comforting. After being surrounded by dead bodies and the smell of blood all day— his cologne was refreshing in a way. And maybe his personality was also helping you to clear your head. But you’d never say that to his face and feed his ego even more.

You let out the breath you weren’t aware of holding and spoke again,

“Can you get me the blood samples of their ex-husband?”

“Ah, so we are on the same page. Though I don’t know why you need it, of course.”

This was surprisingly going well; you were waiting for him to play around a bit first. Well, it clearly saved you from the headache.

“Thanks,”

Finally, your eyes met his. Ah, now looking at him closely, he seemed tired too. Though it didn’t affect his smile, his eyes were telling a different story.

“...want to grab a drink?”

Okay, maybe the tiredness didn’t affect his smile, but your suggestion clearly did wonders because you could’ve sworn his eyes shined at the sound of it.

“Lead the way, then.”

He extended his hand to you. You looked at it for a few seconds before placing the reports on it. You opened your phone and looked at the time, all while avoiding his eyes, the words slipped between your lips,

“The café or the vending machine?”

 “...vending machine.”

His tone sounded like a disappointed child who was pouting. 

Good thing you didn’t look at him because, boy, was he sulking. He mentally sighed and followed after you.

‘So much for wanting them to hold my hand.’

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ notes!

☆ heizou is my baby, i love him sm <3

☆ not proofread (again), so it might get rewritten later! (it probably won’t, anyway)

☆ why do i study medicine?

☐ money

☐ my family forced me to do so

☐ because i want to help people

☒ to write fanfics based on what i’ve learned in class

[tamamatango]

(Lack of) Anime News Update: Sadly, I was right to be skeptical

THEY TOOK ALL MY COPIUM

A few months ago, a rumor emerged about the new Keroro anime project being a series in 2025 and a movie in 2026. I did a longer write-up on it here, but the tl;dr is that I said there was a chance due to the usual reliability of the leaker but that it could also be a misinterpretation of another source. I leaned toward more likely than not (hopium perhaps), but I did advise caution and to not strictly take it at face value.

I guess that was the right call because, well, here we are mid-February. The spring anime season starts in about a month and a half. And…no official news. Zip. Nada. The waiting game continues, it seems.

So, what was that Oizaki quote about? We don’t have hard confirmation, but my guess is that the spring 2025 series part was about a completely different seasonal anime Oizaki is directing set to begin in April. (Yes really I know the premise sounds ridiculous but it’s an adaptation of a light novel, sky’s the limit with those things.) This was revealed back in December. As for what the movie is, it seems to be still unknown. My guess is either an original project or something involving Kaleido Star, which also had a major anniversary recently. The interpretation of the Japanese that the series and movie were connected was in hindsight a mistake, but I wasn’t the only one to propose that reading, and it could’ve gone either way. Gotta love/hate ambiguity.

I could go more into how I think this mix-up happened but then I’d have to talk about twitter anime leaker drama, and while I am unfortunately pretty knowledgable about this subject, it is not fun to talk or read about so I’ll spare you the details. The main conclusion I have is that this account was not deliberately trying to trick anyone and rather just made an assumption and reported the info before actually checking against the evidence because they really wanted to be fast and get interactions, especially because a perceived to be competing account reported a less sensationalized, more accurate version a few minutes before. SugoiLite’s sources aren’t usually publicly visible but this time they pretty much played themselves.

What does this mean for Keroro, then? Personally I still think there will be a series (for reasons I explained in my post from last spring about the whole reveal) and I still think it will be this year, but in either summer or fall. That will have been at maximum a year and a half after the announcement (summer season starts in July, fall in October), which gives it a pretty standard anime production time, assuming the teaser trailer was released during early production. As for the movie? There’s not as strong of a reason to speculate that happening, but next year is the 20th anniversary of Movie 1, so the timing would line up pretty well. That’s just based on vibes, though, rather than any evidence at this time.

Look, I’d be pleased as punch for the Keroro PR account to prove me wrong tomorrow, but I’m quite confident that we lost the coin flip on this one. Before you get too down in the dumps, don’t forget that two major dates are around the corner: AnimeJapan in late March, closely followed by the next anniversary on April 3. I think we will see some kind of preview or at least a progress update around that time. If not…then maybe I’ll start worrying a bit about the chances of it making this year, but we’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it. So hold onto your butts for just a little while longer! I think!

[icefox8155]

Ch 2: Unfamiliar Familiarity

Masterlist

Morning light streams through the thin curtains of your new apartment, its pale glow barely blocking the rays of the rising sun. You wake with a groan, your body feels heavy and a tab sore from yesterday’s panic and relocation. Your mind is still tired from a night of restless sleep, for a moment you thought that you were waking up from a bad dream but when the unfamiliar walls came into view and some unopened cardboard boxes made the hop of it was all just a dream, untrue.

You sit up and groan, feeling a faint headache come about, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand slowly, the cold floor was an excellent wake up call and another stark reminder that this is not a dream. “Ack– ok, ok, should buy some slippers or thick socks when I go out next.” The walk to the kitchen was almost torture with the cold floors but somehow you made it though.

There was no coffee pot to be able to make coffee, nor any tea to be heated up… “Alrighty day two is already off to a bad start.” The next best thing to wake up the body is movement. You glance at the boxes, might as well get started unpacking. The forest few boxes hold basic household necessities, like kitchen cookware and utensils, shower stuff, and even some clothes that you recognize from your own closet. As soon as all that is put away the apartment doesn’t look as desolate. 

The next item on your mental checklist is the backpack you woke up with. In it had the lease agreement and utility bills, a wallet with some cash and a credit card, it also had the government-issued ID, showing you were now a citizen of South Korea. Your eyes narrowed as you took in the picture of you and your name, it looks as if your name was translated, altered ever so slightly. Is… is there perhaps a chance that there is another you? One that existed in this universe? Did… did you take the other’s place? Did they take yours in your world?

The thought makes your heart clench but a quick scroll from your phone showed no contacts of any kind, no friends or family. Your phone was wiped clean of any data used over the last couple of years… But why?

“I guess it really is just me.” you murmur, the phone screen shuts off and you are met with your reflection. Tiredness is what is seen but sadly not from sleep. Although, there is something off with your reflection, you note that your face is smoother than usual. You don’t think too hard about it since you just transport yourself to a fictional world, of course people will have better skin than the other world.

“Well, at least I’ll save money on skincare.” you say aloud while pocketing the phone. 

Before you could move onto a different task, your stomach growls loudly, a rude reminder that you had not eaten since yesterday. You groan and rub your head making a mental note of what food you have… Nothing, nothing at all, your pantry and fridge are empty. Well at least a good excuse to exit the building.

It feels like a bit of a chore to put on clothes for going out in and not old pajamas you found. You’ll also have to get some toothpaste while you are out. Maybe you should write a grocery list at this point. Clutching the wallet and apartment keys in your hand, you exit your apartment. An empty hallway is what greets you, you start walking down the stairs and a few minutes later, you find the streets just as busy as yesterday, it was nice in an odd way. That at least people will still be people.

You make your way to a small convenience store nearby. The bell over the door jingles as you enter, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixes with the sterile scent of cleaning supplies. As you peruse the aisles, you carefully select a pack of instant ramen, toothpaste, and a few other essentials that might help ground you in this bizarre new reality. 

At the register, your eyes wander to the magazine rack near the counter. There, staring back at you from a glossy cover, is Choi Jong-in—his steely gaze and confident smirk anchoring the headline: “Korea’s Top S-Rank Hunter Discusses Guild’s Future.” You are starting to not like his face. It's a familiar but unfamiliar face that keeps popping up whenever you go somewhere new. Which is everywhere, the man is well advertised.

The cashier is a young woman who goes the extra step to ask about your day and make actual conversation with you as she checks out your items. Normal human interaction does help brighten your mood. But the thought of the empty apartment is quick to bring it down again when you exit the store.

While retracing your steps back to the apartment, you notice a small group huddled around an old bulletin board attached to a lamppost. Curious and not wanting to go back just yet you go up and take a peak. The board is plastered with flyers and notices, all for hunters to help with clean ups or going on low level raids. It may be normal for the everyone else to see, but seeing flyers for entering dungeons was almost too much. Although none were higher than a low level C-Rank just the thought of entering one make your stomach churn. 

‘There’s no way I’m getting involved in that.’ you thought while stepping back and heading back towards the apartment building.

Yet, the awareness of your own helplessness lingers, a constant reminder that while you possess knowledge that could prove valuable, you have no awakening magic to protect yourself or others, just an ordinary human who somehow ended up in this dangerous, monster hunting world.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

Back in your apartment, you stand in the kitchen, staring at the unopened ramen package on the counter. Your appetite gone since seeing the flyers. Your gaze drifts to the key lying on the table and the slip of paper with an address scribbled in unfamiliar handwriting. Well its clear it wasn’t written by anyone you know, but something about it keeps drawing your eye to it. 

The neatness of the note makes you think it was typed and printed rather than written. But the slight smudge at the end tells you otherwise. The person or being who wrote this is probably the same one who brought you here. Not only that but set you up in an apartment and even got identification for you so that you could probably get a job sometime.

You definitely have it easier than other transmigrators… The situation still sucks though.

You groan and start prepping the food. Hoping that you can at least easily find a job soon. You don’t notice the faint sparkles that appeared around the food before fading.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

[fearcutsdeeper]

Hi, I’ve really been enjoying your Temeraire posting! I saw in the tags of one of your posts recently (I think the one about the Laurence+Rankin friendship era in book one) that you read Laurence as autistic and the idea really tickled my brain! I’m a new fan of the series and I haven’t thought of him that way before, but now that you pointed it out it makes so much sense. I was wondering if you’d be willing to elaborate a bit on that reading of his character? It’s a super interesting idea and I’d love to hear more of your thoughts if you feel like sharing!

Absolutely!!! The first time I read the books I was really flying through them and too caught up in the character arc I could feel taking shape before my eyes to really dwell on the character as he is, if that makes sense. I'm reading more slowly this time and really considering his thoughts and actions in context, and they feel... like, very relatable to me in a specific way.

(Disclaimer: this is a personal reading, not trying to claim this is an objective truth about the character or anything, etc)

One thing about the way a lot of people discuss autistic or perceived-as-autistic characters is that they'll recognize them as autistic based on straightforward expression of symptoms/traits that you might read off a list. This isn't doing it wrong or anything, and the characters in question can easily be read as autistic! But those aren't usually the characters I see myself in.

I'll pretty often start seeing a character as autistic not because they're outwardly showing symptoms, but because their behavior strikes me as learned compensation for symptoms. Data from Star Trek is very frequently seen as autistic coded not just because of his frequently expressed lack of understanding for social conventions but also because he then explicitly writes himself new subroutines to account for what he learns. A lot of autistic people (including myself) go through their lives kind of accumulating "scripts" – like, oh, I seem to have missed that X was a signal, but the person's reaction tells me that the appropriate response would have been Y. Next time I encounter X, I will do Y.

Now, Will Laurence builds his ENTIRE LIFE around the elaborate rules of British propriety and honor and duty. He tells us that he enjoys Society – "conversation, dancing, and friendly whist were his favorite pursuits". All three things listed are, in Georgian wealthy society, things with a strict and learnable structure and rules – he likes when what he's supposed to do is clearly laid out for him! He's in I think his late thirties when the series starts. I'm basically reading him as an autistic man who realized that people didn't make sense to him the way they did to other children and then spent his entire life Learning The Rules so no one would notice.

Every time he's engaging with propriety and Proper Behavior, he's thinking very consciously about it. And when someone else violates his understanding of the rules, he's internally scrambling for the proper response, because his script has been disrupted. (My personal favorite it when he'll go "the only satisfactory response would be a challenge to duel but I'm not allowed anymore")

So, he's been doing this all his life, he's learned all the rules for the life track he's put himself on (which is a highly structured one!), and then, boom, the plot hits.

The Rules of aviator society are totally different. Laurence is affronted and scrambling. I find it notable that Berkley basically plows right through Laurence's attempts at propriety and immediately starts talking to him like he would any other aviator, and it WORKS. Laurence is kind of taken aback, because his rules would interpret the way he's being spoken to as an insult, but Berkley certainly isn't acting like he means to give insult, so Laurence doesn't respond like he's received one. There's also the bit where he notes that the woman serving him has violated protocol by greeting him instead of being silent – but he returns the greeting and isn't offended.

He's mirroring like hell! (This is a common autistic trait.) He's working out what the expected behavior is and returning it as much as he can manage. And when he's with Rankin, he reverts to his society scripts, with so much relief that he ignores some warning signs.

And this makes his whole arc of disillusionment with the British Government SO interesting, because Laurence, I think anyone would agree, takes the honor that the government pays lip service to dramatically more seriously than most members of the government and Admiralty. And, until he gets the truth shoved in his face, he has enormous trouble conceiving of that. It really reads as autistic to me – like, what do you MEAN the elaborate system of morals you told me to structure my personality around is only window dressing to you? It's sure as hell not window dressing to me!

In this reading, in addition to all the other incredible things that his story is about, it's also about an autistic guy becoming increasingly uncomfortably aware that the systems of rules and parameters which he painstakingly learned and have successfully guided him through most of his life are fundamentally in conflict with each other, and eventually being forced at gunpoint to decide which of those rules really truly matter, throw out the rest, and rebuild from scratch.

Which is to say: my man is in hell. At least he has a dragon?

[colorfullyminded]

Talking with a friend about Hunter!Wirt (Pinescone Addition)

@vacz told me to tag them, so here we go. These are some of the more innocent things we talked about-- thank you @xovera-toz for listening to my rambles as usual.

• Not gonna lie-- Dipper matches his freak. Like that boy is curious, pen at the ready, new journal to jot down all the data about Hunter!Wirt and the unknown. Wirt is a little flattered to be the sole subject of a journal, and tends to find himself curled up near Dipper, looking over his shoulder, or head in lap as Dipper writes his daily findings.

•Some of the things Dipper has noted. "Has a habit of Biting. Painful, but also followed by apology licking/grooming. I'm embarrassed to admit I enjoy this more than I should" "Is possessive-- but I once put a hit on a man, so I'm not one to talk" This one was directly from @xovera-toz: Wirt's nonexistent tail wagging because he saw Dipper writing "affectionate" in his journal page

"Watership Down/Monty Python Bunny. Looks innocent/is feral underneath... but also Looks Dangerous/Is Shy and Sweet underneath."

"He's a Freak :heartpulse: :heart: :two_hearts:"

"Very nice to snuggle With-- though tends to not let me leave once he's comfortable" "Scared of abandonment and rejection. Will take a lot of time and patience and trust to work through-- I have my Work cut out for me." "Has threatened to disembowel me if I leave...turned it in my favor (No I will not elaborate) ^((A/N: I can actually elaborate-- but it's a little more mature))

• In most of my Pinescone, my Ford has beef with Wirt for no other reason that it makes me laugh, and Ford being overly suspicious of Wirt (cause my Wirt can be a bit of a sneaky bun bun), as well a critical because he just wants the best for Dipper (even though Wirt is the best. It's a long process of Ford warming up to Wirt-- the way Ford acts around Wirt, is the way Wirt acts around Jason Funderberker). But in this au, now Hunter!Wirt is more dangerous-- more deranged. A lot more aggressive, and it's openly on his sleeve. He actually can hurt Dipper (and has in his excitement/affection). Ford: How could you date something so unstable!? What could be possibly going through your head! Where did this come from? Dipper: (looking at Ford, knowing this man dated Bill Cipher) ...Gee, I wonder....

• Despite sometimes the uncertainty, or stability of Wirt, Dipper can also see underneath he's just a scared boy, desperately trying to be a good brother-- and you know Dipper has a soft spot for good sibling figures. Even though he's aware Greg isn't in the lantern-- he plays along. Example: Wirt waking up and finding Dipper reading to 'Greg' He was only supposed to nap-- he didnt want to be weak and vulnerable-- didn't want to leave his back turned. He woke up frazzled, and panicked-- turning to look for Dipper, expecting him to be gone, or trying to kill him in his sleep. Instead he finds Dipper reading to 'Greg', showing the lantern his journal as he talks about all he's uncovered about his brother.

• Dipper braids Wirt's hair like he learned how to do with Mabel, sometimes putting flowers in it, as he whispers praises and gentle words of comfort. (Mabel has also done a few different hairdo's with Wirt's long mane-- Wirt often feels like a small dog getting fluffed up in those moments, whereas with Dipper it's a little more relaxing with someone who matches his anxiety).

• The both aren't the biggest fans of baths, but they work through it together, Dipper often guiding Wirt into the bath, and usually distracting each other, by talking for hours. They both end up a little prune-y, and a little cleaner-- even if the water is a bit swampy when they get out.

• ((Slightly more suggestive for older Pinescone)): Hunter!Wirt: W-what if I lose control? What if I bite you? What if I I tear you apart in a frenzy? Dipper: ...promise? Hunter!Wirt: !!!! ??? (Not sure how to feel about that reaction)

• Housewife Dipper helping to make this cabin a home, as he softly studies Wirt and the unknown, while balancing the usual ups and downs that comes with his field of intrigue. He's a lot like Jane from Disney's Tarzan. Fascinated-- a bit afraid, but more willing to learn and understand. And the more he does- the more endeared he becomes.

((And those are some of the ideas-- I haven't even gotten into the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde au portion, but let me know if you want to hear more?))

I'm a little flustered after everything-- I hope you enjoy >///<