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grandline-fics · 3 months

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Nightmare Wedding

DESCRIPTION: They have a nightmare that you marry someone else

WARNINGS: slight angst and some insecurities but with comfort and happy endings in all

CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Kid, Katakuri | Law, Zoro

WORDS: 3,014

A/N: I loved this idea and couldn't help but do another. Of course as soon as I posted the last one an idea for Ace finally came to me. Added Ace and Kid for @breadlover6969 and Mihawk, Shanks, and Katakuri (who also won the poll) for @kabloswrld

Hope you all enjoy!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

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ACE

Ever since you and Ace became a couple, Ace noticed that he slept amazing when you were beside him. The nights you had to sleep apart however, brought restlessness, sometimes strange dreams that left him feeling as though he hadn’t slept at all, but it was worse when he had to suffer through nightmares. Tonight, he reluctantly went to bed while you had to stay in the infirmary while you recovered from a sickness. It was just a precaution to avoid you infecting the others but Ace needed more convincing than the others. He didn’t care if he got sick and would have risked it but you managed to talk him around, promising it would be just one night and it would make you feel better to know he was safe and healthy. Reluctantly he climbed into the bed and pouted at your empty side until his eyes grew heavy and sleep claimed him.

“Ace how do I look?” You asked him in his dream and he broke out into an overwhelmed smile, taking in your breathtaking appearance. You were all but glowing, dressed for a wedding; your wedding. Slowly he reached out to cup your face before taking your hand to playfully twirl you and take in your outfit with growing appreciation. Unable to hold back, he pulled you into a tight hug. “You look amazing, you always do.” He whispered, pulling back to see your eyes light with joy as you you looked down at your outfit, smoothing the fabric into place.

“I’m glad. I hope Marco thinks so too.” You beamed up at him, unaware of Ace’s expression dropping into one of confused dread. Marco? What did Marco have to do with it all? He quickly snapped out of his thoughts when you quickly took his hands into yours and leaned in with an excited smile. “Ace, will you walk me down the aisle? It’d mean so much to me!”

“B-but…aren’t you going to marry me?” Ace asked with a frown, his heart sinking when you tilted your head in confusion before laughing.

“Ace, don’t be silly!” You grinned, giving him a playful shove. “You know I’m marrying Marco, come on I can’t be late!” Before he could react, you grabbed his wrist and hurried down a corridor that seemed unending. Finally the corridor shifted to reveal a filled room, your hand was no longer in his and you stood with Marco at the altar.

His stomach lurched and Ace let out a yelp as he landed on the floor of his room, tangled in the bedsheet and head swimming as he tried to let his brain catch up with the fact he was awake and what he’d just witnessed was a horrible dream. Scrambling to his feet, Ace bolted out of the room and hurried to the infirmary, hearing the sound of you coughing when he neared the door. Quietly he entered and walked quietly to your bedside. “Ace? You should be in bed.” You told him weakly.

“No, I should never have let you talk me into leaving you.” Ace said as he climbed into the bed with you, pulling you close to let you rest against him. His fingers lightly moved over your back, soothing your aching body while also finding your presence soothing him from the nightmare he’d had. “We’re a team right? Through thick and thin…sickness and in health.”

“Aren’t those wedding vows?”

“Are they?” Ace asked innocently but you could hear his heart pick up speed slightly. “Must have been a coincidence…”

SHANKS

Before meeting you, Shanks never saw himself as the settling down type. He was more than content to live his days exploring and enjoying himself with a lover in every island should the mood take him. Then you came along and changed his life in every wonderful way imaginable. You were the adventure he’d been missing and hadn’t even known he was searching for. He couldn’t imagine ever being apart from you. You might have fallen for his charm and flirtatious smile first but he fell for your warmth and beautiful soul so much harder.

So when he dreamt of himself standing at the front of an altar, he knew you would be the only other possible person his subconscious would conjure to join him. Shanks felt excitement gather in his chest and then in a blink he saw Beckman appear beside him. “This is a big thing, Captain. You sure you can go through with this?” His right-hand man asked with a grin before continuing. “I mean you’ve never preformed a wedding ceremony before, will you be able to handle it?”

Shanks felt his excitement fizzle out and it was quickly replaced with confusion and apprehension. Yes, as Captain he would be the one to marry members of his crew but he couldn’t possibly be the one to get married and preform the ceremony at the same time. It didn’t make sense and as much as he wanted to know, he dreaded what the explanation would be because he already knew it wasn’t going to be something he’d like. “Benn! Shanks!”

Both heads turned and Shanks’ chest felt like it was going to explode with adoration and pride as he saw you hurry to them. He waited for your hands to reach for him but instead you merely smiled at him and hurried to Beckman’s side, eagerly letting his arms wrap around you and hold you close. “Sorry I’m late but we can start now.” You beamed, your gaze settling on Shanks’ face expectantly. “Whenever you’re ready Captain, I can’t wait to marry this man!”

With a jolt and gasp, Shanks woke to the calm, dark silence using the sound of the gentle waves hitting the side of the Red Force to help calm his breathing. He glanced to down to see you curled up on your side, your back against him and your arms loosely but just as possessively wrapped around his arm. Shanks let out a small huff as he silently laughed at his stupid mind for conjuring such a ridiculous scenario. Rolling onto his side, Shanks pressed a kiss against your temple, stilling when you began to shift. You turned as you began to wake, curling into his chest and let out a sleepy smile when his now freed arm tightened around you, keeping you close. “Everything okay?” You mumbled.

“Never better.” Shanks affirmed with a smile, pressing another kiss against your cheek. As much as he knew it was a ridiculous dream and that things between you both were beyond amazing, Shanks considered that maybe he was worried in some part that someone may take you from him someday. “Promise me you won’t marry Beck, okay?”

“Why, you wanna marry him?” Even half-asleep you were still able to make a joke and help your lover relax.

“The only one I want to be committed to is you.”

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“I do.”

MIHAWK

“Clown, what is the meaning for all of this…fanfare?” Mihawk asked, looking around the extensibly decorated circus tent. Brightly coloured ribbons adorned the ceiling, flowers were displayed in grand, flashy, and quite simply ostentatious arrangements that just screamed ‘Buggy the Clown.’ None of it was to Mihawk’s taste but it was clear the clown was up to something. The figurehead of Cross Guild spun around, dressing in a bright suit and his painted smile, spread wide in triumph.

“Mihawk! So glad you’ve arrived. We were worried you were going to miss the festivities. They’ll be writing about this in the papers for weeks.” Buggy declared with a laugh, allowing his hands to detach from his arms to gesture widely as confetti seemed to rain down from nowhere. Mihawk’s eye twitched at the useless theatrics, he’d asked a question and wanted an actual answer. Thankfully he didn’t need to repeat himself because Buggy cleared his throat and stepped to the side to show the altar Mihawk could have sworn wasn’t there before. “It’s my wedding obviously.”

A wedding? This was the first Mihawk heard about it. As far as he knew, Buggy hadn’t had a serious relationship in a long time, certainly not serious enough to warrant a wedding. So who was the clown’s secret betrothed? The answer came instantly when he heard footsteps behind him. Mihawk turned and did a double take when he saw it was you. The look in your eyes was filled with so much excitement and joy they practically sparkled. He began to reach out for you but you slipped past him and continued with conviction until you were proudly beside Buggy. Disbelief gripped Mihawk at the scene in front of him. No, this was impossible. Letting his instincts take hold, he reached for Yoru and charged for Buggy.

“Mihawk, no!” You pleaded, stepping in front and stopping his attack mid-swing with just your voice. “Please it’s my wedding day. Promise there’ll be no fighting. For me okay?” Mihawk snapped awake immediately and let out a sigh of relief to see he was in his own quarters and not a garish decoration in sight. Despite having slept, the nightmare he was forced to endure had left him exhausted. Part of him was reluctant to try and fall back to sleep out of worry of what other hellish thoughts his mind would conjure for him.

With a sigh he reached out your side of the bed and only now he noticed it was empty. Yet it was still warm, you’d only just risen but it was still late at night. Just as he was about to rise and search for you, the door opened and you silently crept in, pausing to see Mihawk was awake and watching you. Now seeing you had no need to be stealthy you smiled and walked back towards the bed. “I was getting a drink of water. Did I wake you?”

“No, love.” Mihawk answered, holding out his arms to pull you close against him, his eyes closing when your fingers slipped into his hair. “Had an awful dream you married the clown and wouldn’t let me cut him to pieces for it.”

“How strange…” You mused with a yawn. “Although I’m not opposed to the idea, truth be told.”

“Marrying the clown?” Mihawk leaned back to look at you, unable to hide his disgust as the images from his dream came flooding back.

“No!” You laughed pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Marrying you. Although people consider us married anyway.” Mihawk chuckled, it was true. Mihawk supposed now that it had been properly brought up, it was worth considering to finally propose. His golden eyes observed you carefully and saw your eyes were growing heavy. That was a conversation best saved for the morning.

KID

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Kid shouted as he looked at you standing hand in hand with none other than Strawhat Luffy, both of you dressed very clearly for a wedding. At his outburst you both turned to look at him in shared confusion. “Him? You’re seriously going to marry him! He’s a moron!”

“Only sometimes.” You shrugged before smiling dreamily at the Strawhat pirate. “He’s also super strong, and funny, and he’s King of the Pirates now so-”

“What? No he’s not!” Kid argued angrily trying to charge forward but every step he took kept him firmly on the same spot. This wasn’t real, this couldn’t be happening. You were with him! You had no interest in the pipsqueak Captain of the Strawhats like that. You weren’t as shallow to only be with something because of their title, you weren’t like that. You saw the good in people, you’d seen the good in him and you loved him. Of that much Kid was certain of. This just had to be some awful dream. He just needed to wake up and everything would be okay.

“Kid!” Kid jolted upright with a yell meeting your bewildered gaze. “What is it? You were calling my name over and over. Are you okay?” You hesitated from touching him as out of fear he was still clinging to the nightmare he was waking from, not wanting to overwhelm him but you had to speak to him, to reassure him your were here. You watched as Kid steadied his breathing and reached out towards you with his good arm. Quickly you took his hand into both of yours and guided his fingers to rest against your collarbone so he could feel your steady heartbeat under your skin and feel the rise and fall of your chest, hoping he would copy the steadied breaths and calm. “I’m here, we’re safe in our room. What do you need?”

“Kill Strawhat.” Kid ground out tightly as he calmed, his fingers flexing around yours just a little tighter to ground him in the reality. Finally he let out a long, heavy sigh and shook his head. “Nah, he’s not worth my time. Just need you babe.” You let out a sigh of your own, soft and relieved to hear him speak and inched closer, smiling when his hand moved up to curl behind your neck and thread into your hair, pulling you in for a soft and gentle kiss. Parting he lay his forehead against yours, finding his ability to be vulnerable around you to be proof of the love you both shared.

“Promise me, even if that little runt becomes King of the Pirates and asks you to marry him, you’ll say no.”

“Kid, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.” You reassured him softly. “Don’t care about titles or any of that stuff but if you want to give me a ring and let me call you husband if it makes you feel better we can do that?”

“Did you just half-ass a proposal to me?” Kid asked with a grin, all worries from his dream vanishing instantly.

“Not at all, Captain. Was just letting you know you can half-ass propose to me if you want.” With a laugh and a playful shove, Kid considered taking you up on the offer but now he had to wait for a while so that when he did propose, it would seem like it was all his idea.

KATAKURI

Another tea-party, another celebration filled with people and a feast of the finest food imaginable. Katakuri stood firmly in place, watching all of the guests and his family occupy the space, prepared for anything to happen. Like everything else, nothing would escape his sight and nothing would ruin his mother’s carefully planned party, he always made sure of that. Across the large garden he caught sight of the extravagant mountain-sized wedding cake and now he felt confused, he hadn’t known this was a wedding. Curiously he looked around, searching for his siblings to spot who would be the bride or groom. But then that thought went out of his head when he saw you of all people standing at the altar at the top of the cake.

His heart all but skipped when he saw you but that led him to become even more confused. If you were up there and waiting to get married, why was he all the way down here and standing watch? He was madly in love with you and you loved him, so why were you both apart? Then you turned to face someone who was on top of the cake with you. Katakuri watched in dismay to see his brother Perospero take your hand in his and grin at you. Behind his thick layers of his scarf wound around the lower half of his face, Katakuri’s lips curled in a tight snarl and he gripped his arms tightly to control the mounting anger. Why was this happening?

From behind him he heard his mother’s loud laughter, delighted by the ceremony taking place on the cake she couldn’t wait to devour. Katakuri lowered his gaze and took a deep breath, of course. Big Mom did enjoy arranging marriages for her children and this was clearly one of her arrangements but he couldn’t help but feel the pain of how you’d been taken from him and he couldn’t do anything to intervene. Worse still, you didn’t even look like you wanted him to be in Prosperous place.

Katakuri woke instantly, his eyes snapping open and his mind clearing just as fast. As though sensing the change in his body, you stirred from your comfortable place on his chest. As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and yawned, Katakuri’s hand fell over your back, making sure to keep you comfortable knowing that your mind was still hazy and body was still heavy as it clung to the need for sleep. If he reassured you all was well quickly, you’d fall back into your own pleasant dreams in no time. “Kata…what’s the matter?” You mumbled, managing to crack your eyes open slightly to look at him.

“Just a bad dream. I’m fine now.” Katakuri informed you simply, never needing to lie to you.

“Hm, what kind of dream?” You asked, absently running your fingers over his chest as you listened to his steady heartbeat that always lulled you to sleep.

“Dreamt mother had arranged for you to marry Perospero.” He explained, rubbing your back in response to your soothing touches. “I could only stand by and watch.”

“Sorry you had to dream such a thing but don’t worry that won’t happen.”

“If mother demanded it, I couldn’t fight against her wishes.” Katakuri mumbled, feeling his own mind grow hazy once more as your radiating warmth was coaxing him to sleep. He blinked when you abruptly pushed yourself up to frown at him in the dark. “What?”

“Katakuri…we’re already married.” You reminded him, lifting your hand to show the band of metal on your finger glinting in the moonlight. With a tired, amused huff at your husbands momentary lapse in memory you flopped back down onto your husband’s chest.

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tbaluver · 16 days

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When You Randomly Turn Into A Cat- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader synopsis: a day where you randomly turn into a cat and how they love and deep space men would take care and spend the day with you ! genre: silly and cute a/n: hihi lovelies! sorry this took so long to write i had to channel in all the cat videos i loved and seen and put it into each scenario for each men ! (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i also had to make sure some cat facts were true or not just in case and also because i don't own a cat but i rlly want one (•ᴗ•,, ) i hope you all enjoy ! ^•ﻌ•^ฅ♡ If any new readers are here you can read where the men turn into cats here; When They Turn Into Cats any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

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Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :

Xavier wasn't particularly shocked that you would turn into a cat but truly surprised him was the timing of it. You both speculated that his transformation one time might be linked to his recent handling of a Protocore and it would eventually spread to you. He just didn't anticipate that this would happen in the middle of a mission. Fortunately, he managed to defeat the remaining Wanderers, scooping you up along with your clothes, and bring you both safely back home.

There were no answers on the internet on what to do when your partner turns into a cat. He doesn't understand how you did so well when you took care of him when he randomly turned into one. He only wishes that he can do the same for you as you did with him.

The first step Xavier does is search for any leftover cat food but finds nothing so he takes you along to the grocery store. He'll gently place you in the baby seat of the shopping cat, determined to find the best options for you. He scrutinizes every brand of cat food and snack, carefully considering what you might like. To ensure you would have everything you could possibly need, he ends up buying far more than necessary, his cart basically overflowing with a mountain of cat supplies.

When you both return home, there is no doubt that Xavier showers you with affection. He lavishes you with cuddles and kisses in between your ears. He finds your feline form to be cute and can't help but pet you, his fingers gently brushing through your soft fur. You enjoy in the soothing touch, arching your back in contentment as he continues his gentle caress. The two of you settle into a cozy spot for nap, as he drifts off to sleep to the comforting rhythm of your adorable purrs and you fall asleep to his gentle caress. You've always been a source of comfort for him and you still are even in this tiny cat form.

Xavier can't help but feel a little jealous when he finds you curled up on the plushies that he won you in the claw machine, instead of you nestled comfortably on his lap or cradled in his arms. It stings a little to see you so content with the plushie and wishes that it was him to provide you with that comfort. Same thing when you knead your plushies with your paws, he can't help but feel envy, wishing that direct attention was towards him instead.

To keep you entertained as a cat, Xavier downloads a few interactive cat games on his phone. He places the phone down, allowing you to paw at the moving images and you pretend as if you were catching them. Another way he can play with you is using playful revenge on your plushies. He watches with amusement as you pounce and swat at the plush toys, your antics providing both of you with entertainment.

Whenever Xavier grabs a snack, he makes sure you feel included in the moment. He helps you to select a treat you want to try by holding it out and shares it with you, making sure you have your own little snack to enjoy alongside with him.

When it was night time and time for bed, even though both of you took several naps the entire day, he prepares for bed. He settles beside you, gently reaching out to stroke your fur with a soothing touch. Carefully, he pulls the blanket up, tucking it around the both of you to create a comfy cocoon. As he holds you clos, he presses tender kisses to the top of your head. "Goodnight honey. No matter what form you're in, you'll always be my partner for life." He whispers, eagerly waiting for the morning to come so you'll be back in your human form.

Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :

It was Zayne’s day off and he was in the kitchen, preparing a delicious and nutritious meal for the two of you. Meanwhile, you were in the living room, browsing through DVDs or anything you can find on the TV to watch for your movie marathon. You both chatted back and forth while he worked in the kitchen as you continued to browse in the living room until minutes ticked by and he noticed you were quiet. Out of curiosity, he peeks through the kitchen and sees the living room empty. He calls out for you but he is met with no response. A wave of concern washes over him as he quickly turns off the stove and makes his way to the living room to find a bewildered cat.

He sighs deeply, knowing this all too well. He had experienced this bizarre transformation himself not too long ago. A smile creeps up on his lips as he crouches down, extending a hand to your feline form. “I guess I have to make a different lunch for you now.” He murmurs as you brush against his hand.

He’ll find the cat food that you fed him when he once turned into a cat randomly one day and he’ll feed that to you. He knows that the mixed kibble was unappetizing but as he scooped up a portion and placed it in front of you, he gave you a reassuring soft smile. He gently pats your head, his fingers brushing through your fur to offer some reassurance as you hesitantly ate the food. As you eat, he promises that he’ll buy you some yummy foods when you’re back to normal.

Since it was his day off, he'll finish up any chores around the house. He gathered all the freshly laundered clothes out of the dryer as you trailed after him. When he sets the basket down in your shared room, you couldn't resist the inviting warmth of the freshly dried clothes and hopped right into the basket. You nestled inside the fluffy pile, your body curling up into it. The warmth and softness was irresistible and not too long you find yourself drifting off into sleep. His gaze would soften when he finally notices you inside of the basket, smiling fondly at the sight. He scoops you up, cradling you carefully before placing you gently on your shared bed.

Once he finished folding the clothes, he returned to you. Your eyes slowly flutters open and to help ease you into waking up, he carefully extends your limbs, stretching your front paws upwards.

Zayne would make sure to play with you so you're not bored the entire day. Sometimes when he has do some other chores, he'll leave the TV on so you can go watch. Or he'll gather a selection of plushies you both had won from the claw machine and toss them around as you pounce and batted at the plushies. If you weren't feeling the plushies anymore, he'll reach for the laser pointer he uses for panel discussions and watches in amusement as you chase it around.

Although it was his day off, he still chooses to do a couple hospital reports. While he's busy typing away on the computer, he lets you curl into his lap as he finishes up his work. Despite his best efforts to stay concentrated, you made it a habit of hopping in front of his computer, inserting yourself in front of him to grab his attention. It seems your stubbornness remains even if you were a cat because this goes on for a couple of minutes. "Behave." He would gently scoop you back into his lap or nudge you aside and you would end up back in front of his computer, blocking his hands from typing on his keyboard. It was impossible to ignore you, melting at the small feline form in front of him. Folding, his hands instinctively find their way to scratch the back of your ears. He would take this as a sign to finally take a break and enjoy his day off with you, even if you were a cat.

As nightfall arrived, you trailed after him into the bathroom where he began his nightly routines. You were perched on the counter, watching him do your skin care routine that you both normally do. He made sure you felt included, using a small brush and gently groomed your fur.

He scoops you up after he finishes his routine and carried you to the bedroom. He places a gentle kiss between your ears, right on the top of your head. He placed you gently onto the bed, arranging the covers and settles beside you. "Even though you're adorable as a cat," he murmurs softly, "I miss you. Come back soon, my love." He whispers, eagerly waiting for morning to come when you return back to your human form.

Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :

A wave of emotions washed over him. Fear. Panic. Uneasiness. His lover has turned into something he had feared the most. A wanderer? No. Worse. A cat. What gods has he upset for this too happen? Why must he go through so much feline presence in his life? For him to be one and now you?

Rafayel would snap out of his daze as you began to nuzzle against his legs. Slowly, he'd start to come to terms with the idea of having you as a cat for a day might not be as daunting as he initially feared. Nuzzling against his legs gave him a reassuring contact of your soft fur and helped him realize that you wouldn't do anything to harm him. You were still his caring and beloved partner and he will continue to love you even if you were a cat. It wouldn't be so bad or so he thought.

In this cat form it seems you have the zoomies. He expected you to be a laid back cat but instead, you had turned his entire day into a constant adventure. Not only are you darting around the house with enthusiasm but you're also sneaking into every nook and cranny. You've slipped in behind shelves, climbing into fragile small statues around his studio, and even perching on the edges of delicates vases.

Rafayel would constantly be on the move, trying to keep up with your mischief. One time you had darted into the kitchen cabinets, where all his expensive glassware was located. You refused to come down despite his pleas and he wonders if you were just being stubborn or if you were just having too much fun teasing him. When he manages to catch you, he wraps you into a blanket, like a burrito to keep you still. He smirks as you meow in protest and he returns to his painting, chatting with you softly as he works.

When you're finally out of your zoomies, he'll let you go from the blanket but he'll only regret that later. You approach him, holding out a fish plushie and he thought you were hungry but truly you just wanted to play. "Hey fish aren't food!" He huffs, a pout forming on his lips as he gently removes the plushie from your mouth and crosses his arms in mock disapproval. "I want my cutie back....this cat is slowly turning her into a monster....."

He'll take this as a sign to go find you some food. Food that isn't fish related. He'll make sure to find something that's good and the best rated cat food for you.

Whenever there a fly or bug that made its way into his studio, Rafayel would make you help to catching it. In your human form, you'd be squeamish about dealing with insects and would leave the tasks to him. But now since you're a cat, you're fascinated by the challenge of catching it. He would gently lift you into the air, holding you up so high so you could get a better shot at the tiny intruders. He'll give you a mix of encouragement and amusements as you grab the bugs with your paws.

You are Rafayel's muse and he's determined to keep you in that role. He'll position you on a stool where you stand tall, ready to be the subject of his art. You meow in protest, growing fatigued but he urges you to stay still just for a little longer. The finished sketches of you s a cat turned out to be truly adorable once you see them later. You don't know how he's so uneasy around cats.

As nightfall came around, he settles beside you in bed. Typically you would be curled up together, foreheads against each other but tonight is different with your smaller, feline form. He stays close, tenderly brushing your fur as if it were your hair. His eyes were growing heavy with sleep and he whisper softly, "No matter if you're a cat, a goose, or anything else, my heart's deepest wish is to be with you in every form in every life time. Sleep well my beloved. I shall see you again in the morning."

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :

Sylus would be informed by Mephisto that you turned into a cat. He was initially be taken aback but quickly settled into a knowing smile, knowing this experience of a similar transformation himself. He would immediately find you and when he does, he tries his best not to snicker from how amusing this was but it came out anyway. It seems you have taken the nickname Kitten, a little to seriously. You would protest in meows and his snicker would turn into a louder laugh and your cat ears turn into airplane mode.

He reaches for his phone and scoops you up to settle you into his lap. He adjusts the screen so it was perfectly angled for you to also see as his other free hand gently stroked your fur. He scrolled through various stores, adding items to his cart with things you might enjoy or need in this temporary form. He'll know you were interested in it when you paw at the screen, lowly chuckling in amusement as you do so. Not wanting to leave your side, he orders Luke and Kieran to pick up what he ordered.

You didn’t think it would be even possible for this man to be more affectionate with you even if you were a cat. He would pepper your head and nose with lots of kisses and he would find it even more amusing when you would place your paw on his mouth to stop. He doesn’t listen and continues to do so anyway, finding this cat form of you to be adorable. He also loves to brush his fingertips against your paw/ toe beans. He’s careful to not apply too much pressure on them so he doesn’t hurt you.

Mephisto may not be your biggest fan ever in your human form, but he's definitely not warming up to you as a cat either. In this cat form of yours, you have an enhanced agility that helps you jump and try to catch him on his perch. Your attempts to chase him around the house seem to get intense that Sylus had to step in and separate you two so you both can behave.

In this cat form, it seems as your cat senses heightened, driving you to explore the house in new ways you haven’t before. You find yourself climbing onto high shelves and underestimating just how high up you were up. Sylus noticing your predicament, he would sigh and grab a basket to help you climb down. However, your fear of falling to your demise, you meow in protest as you tremble at the idea.

You tried to place a paw into the basket, in hopes to provide a safe descent but looking down and how light the basket was, made you freeze in place. You backed away and retreated further into the shelf. “It’s okay. I got you,” He would reassure you, his voice calm and soothing. Despite his efforts of holding the basket out for you to jump into, you continued to meow in protest, clearing preferring the direct approach of being lifted down by his hands instead. He finally caught on when you ignored his third attempt with the basket and instead reached out with his hands as you crawled towards his forearms. Once you are finally safe in his arms, he strokes your fur with tender care. He lets out a soft sigh, “You really don’t want to make it easy for me don’t you kitten?” He murmurs, "meow."

When it was dinner time, you'd perch on the kitchen counter beside Sylus, watching with curious eyes as he hummed contentedly while preparing his meal before preparing your cat meal. He carefully selects the best rated cat food, ensuring it was packed with essential nutrients and vitamins. After serving you with the cat food, he would spoil you with a few tasty cat treats, hoping they would be a little more enjoyable for you than the cat food. His attention to your needs will always be attentive even if you were a cat.

After you both settled into bed, Sylus lies on his back, inviting you to curl up on his chest. As your eyes fluttered close, a content purr rumbles through your body and he can feel the gentle vibrations against him. He strokes your fur tenderly, his own eyes heavy with sleep. He murmurs as he wishes you a goodnight, "Goodnight princess. I hope to see you in my dreams and see you back in my arm again when I wake up."

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pellucid-constellations · 3 months

Text

If It All Fell (9)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: Thank you so much for sticking around. I had to reread this entire series to write this part and it made me remember how much I love sharing it with you all ♡ Italics indicate memories (oooooo👀).

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

One of the many downsides to losing your memory was your lack of card game knowledge. An inconsequential tidbit when you took a step back and evaluated the hardships that plagued you, but a fact that was currently causing you a massive headache and a massive loss, all the same.

“This is just completely unfair,” you huffed, tossing your cards on the table and leaning back in your chair. “I can barely even remember what you said the rules were.”

“Hardly my fault, sweetheart. I gave you a run down before we started,” Cassian slyly grinned.

You scoffed. “There were over fifteen steps to this game! And I feel like you made up half of them!”

“While that would definitely be something he’d pull,” Mor piped in, an accusatory glance in Cassian’s direction. “He’s innocent, this time. This is just a really complicated game.”

“Oh yeah, great. Make the amnesiac play the complicated game so she’ll lose. That's really classy, Cassian. Great sportsmanship.”

Cassian had the gall to look offended, a hand placed at his heart. “You used to be great at this game, I’ll have you know. You won every time. We banned you, actually.”

“You banned me from playing a card game?”

Azriel, who had been fighting off a laugh with his tongue against his cheek, spoke up from beside you. “Very strictly banned, as well. For the last hundred years. You’re lucky we’re letting you play now.”

Your mouth dropped open in the most wounded expression you could manage, mirth dancing in your eyes as you turned your head to catch the shadowsinger’s blush-tinted cheeks.

Things were… good between the two of you. The same, but good, mostly because you had refrained from even alluding to his mate. When you didn’t talk about her, or look at anything that might have belonged to her, or question Azriel on the sadness in his eyes, he stayed glued to your side. It was a wonderful friendship the two of you were cultivating—one built on one-sided secrets where the answers were locked in your brain.

“What could I have possibly done to get banned from a card game for a hundred years?” you gaped.

Azriel’s wings rustled behind him, unfurling to cloak your back in warmth. He laughed. “You cheat.”

“I cheat?”

“I wouldn’t call it cheating, exactly,” Mor defended, sliding her cards face-down on the table in favor of the snack plate in the center. “Not when it’s not your fault.”

“Bullshit!” Cassian exclaimed, fist coming down in a loud bang. “She knows how to control her magic. She chooses to use it during the game and that makes it cheating.”

Mor pointed an accusing finger in Azriel’s direction. “And what about his shadows, then? You’ve never had a problem with him playing, oh great game warden.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes as if looking at Azriel for the first time. “Brother, you cheat as well?”

In the most jovial tone you’d heard Azriel take, he refuted, “I absolutely do not.”

That had spiraled into another argument you were not part of, and you took the opportunity to pick your cards back up and attempt to run through the rules again. It was a game of chance, really, but it was also a game of wit and that wasn’t your strongest suit at the moment.

Maybe if you tried a little bit harder—

“Okay, your turn, y/n,” Azirel called you out of your fruitless thoughts. “Just try to pick one.”

Your lips twisted to the side as you examined your cards and looked up at your opponent. Cassian appeared quite average, no shifting eyes or telling sighs. He was very good at this game, allegedly.

You flicked your eyes back down to your cards, but, no—something didn’t feel right about that.

You looked back up at Cassian, and something shifted.

Something… seemed off. Like he was—

“You’re lying,” you stated as if it were a well-known fact. “You’re lying so hard right now. So that means I should take this and…”

Your last words trailed off as you slapped a pair of cards on the table. You looked up to Cassian with a smug expression, the general narrowing his eyes and swiping his own cards aside. He scoffed, and then scoffed again, the second time paired with his arms across his chest.

“Yeah? And how would you know?” he challenged.

Your head jutted back in disbelief. You gazed around the table but none of your opponents offered the same look. “Are you kidding? It’s practically pouring off of you.”

“What is?” Azriel softly asked.

“His lie!” you exclaimed, hands raised in shock.

“How so?” Mor posed.

“All around him.” You shook your hand in the direction of the General, making some form of a circle. “He’s just a terrible liar and you can see it. I thought you all said he was undefeated?”

“I was,” Cassian huffed out with a laugh. “Against everyone other than you.”

His words sobered up your competitive mood, the rest of the table having come to a conclusion you only just realized. Azriel sat beside you with bated breath, tenseness apparent in the coil of his wings and shadows. Mor tried and failed to hide her smile behind her lips. Cassian didn’t even attempt to hide; his smile was vibrant without a hint of defeat.

“Does this mean—”

“Yes!” Mor gave a small cheer. “Something is happening in that beautiful brain of yours and you’re coming back to us!”

Coming back to them.

As if you weren’t sitting right there.

“We should ask her questions,” Cassian boomed with another laugh. “See what else is in there.”

“Oh! We should. Think of something, Cass.”

“What about…”

The air around you felt suffocating as those at the table began talking as if you weren’t there. Any joy you felt at the revelation was washed, evaporated—creating a somber resolve that made your skin feel dull.

“Maybe ask her things associated with her magic. Maybe that’s coming through first,” Mor offered. Walnut shells and wine glasses lay empty and scattered beside discarded cards.

“I don’t think—” Azriel’s response was muted by a buzzing in your ears.

It would never be enough. You were a full person sitting before them, but you weren’t. You weren’t the person they expected—not the person they wanted. You had been stuck in this limbo for weeks now, living under pitying eyes and hopeful half-smiles that never met their eyes. Secrets were kept because they hoped you—the real you—would eventually return and save them from sharing the hard things.

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes.

“We should get Rhys. He might find an opening now that her magic is—”

“I’m right here,” you interrupted, the gravel of your tone barely audible below Cassian’s excited tone. The table fell silent, anyway. “I don’t know why you all insist on speaking about me and not to me.”

Mor’s voice was still light as she replied, “Y/n, we don’t mean—”

“You don’t mean what?” you laughed, the sound bordering hysterical. You caught Azriel turning his head down towards you in your peripheral. You ignored it. “You don’t mean to make me feel like half a person? Like a ghost? Because I’m right here and I have been for weeks but you all are so concerned with what I’m going to be in some undetermined amount of time that you seem to forget I’m alive now.”

Cassian’s lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from your mouth. “I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to know about most of my life until recently. You all expect me to get better instantly, making decisions and keeping secrets as if this isn’t part of my life—as if when I get my memories back… if I get them back… all these weeks will just disappear.

“But I’ve been here,” you stressed. Your fingers were tingling and your neck felt hot. “I’ve been here and all of you—you all talk over my head. I finally get some semblance of myself back and all you can think about is what more I can do. You don’t care about me. You care about some version of me that I’ve never met.”

You rose from the table, hands coming down harshly as you stood. Mor quickly mimicked your action, but you held a hand up, dismissing the person who had been your safe space at the start of this mess—at the start of your memory, really.

“I need—I need,” you choked. Dim colors and minute vibrations emanated from each person in the room, making your head hurt as you looked at them. You didn’t have the capacity to analyze that development. “I need to be alone.”

You heard yourself mutter an apology as you went, unsure what exactly it was for. Your feet stumbled out of the room, getting stuck in cracks and shuffling on marble flooring. A small prickle of embarrassment made you flinch as you went, but it was nothing compared to the harrowing emptiness that guided you out to the balcony.

Maybe it would be better if you spent your time alone—at least until you got your memories back. You loved being around everyone, but even that was a half-truth. You hadn’t even met everyone that was supposed to be in your life.

Gripping the railing of the balcony, you sucked in a deep breath, greedy for any kind of reprieve. A soft wind met the heat of your cheeks, but it did little to soothe you. If you could just become who they wanted you to be… if you could just know everything they wanted you to know.

Everything felt like too much.

You had so little to go off of, but somehow that was to your detriment.

You thought the first sign of your old self would have been a cause for celebration, but instead, it was only a call for more. More, more, more—you weren’t enough now.

You heard your name in the wind, a soft sound that carried delicately past your ears. For reasons you could not place, the single word sent anger pulsing in your veins.

You whipped around, unsurprised to see Azriel standing beneath the archway to the house, his expression unguarded and his shadows reaching and reaching and reaching towards you.

He seemed to recoil at your furious gaze.

“What?” you asked, still breathless from the way panic had taken control of your chest. “What, Azriel?”

But words seemed to fail him as he stood there. He blinked more than necessary, shaking his head and then righting it, unsure of the direction he wanted to take.

It infuriated you.

“What could you have to say?” you instigated, and the harsh words made you sick. “You of all people treat me as a stranger. You say we’re close—that we are the closest of anyone—but you keep secrets, Azriel. You keep secrets and you make it impossible to get to know you. What happens if I never get my memory back, huh?”

The notion of that reality set the Shadowsinger into motion. “Don’t say that,” he almost begged, desperation lost behind gritted teeth. “We are still looking—”

“Would it be that terrible for you? Truly, Azriel. You slink around me, afraid to share things I don’t even know are there! How am I—What am I supposed to do if this is just me now?” You tugged at your hair as frustration captured your voice. You hadn’t meant to say any of this, hadn’t planned on even hinting at your displeasure, but something snapped today.

Something snapped and there was nothing you could do to cope with the breakage. Because you were a stranger to everyone—most of all yourself.

“That won’t happen,” Azriel attempted to reassure, taking small steps towards your pacing figure. “We are going to figure this out and everything will be—”

“It won’t!”

You screamed.

You hadn’t meant to.

Azriel stopped in his tracks.

“It won’t be fine, Azriel.” Back to a normal volume, your voice sounded hoarse. “I can’t keep living like this—like a ghost. It’s been weeks and there are no leads. All I have now is this hint of my powers that I’m not even sure how to parse out. They don’t make sense. None of this makes sense.”

Your eyes were glued to your feet as Azriel’s words broke at the syllables. “I know.”

“None of you will want me if I can’t be her.”

“I will always want you,” he was quick to respond.

When you raised your head, the stray tears held captive by your waterline fell. Azriel stared back at you in earnest but it felt incomplete.

“You keep things from me still,” you said, words thick in your throat. “It’s like you’re waiting for her—for someone else. With Mor and them, it’s different. It feels different with you.”

Azriel whispered a broken rendition of your name. The color you saw reflecting from his shoulders was sharp against the backdrop of the dark house, and you had no idea its significance, but something within you told you it wasn’t going to get you what you so desperately wanted.

“Stop,” you begged, chin wobbling. “Stop… formulating what you’re going to say to me. This is worse, now that I have my magic. I see your every indecision around me.”

Azriel’s expression pinched and the color fizzled out as he stepped forward and held your face in his textured hands. Your anger dissipated as he titled your head up to meet his gaze, replaced by the uncertainty that often mingled with regret when he was near.

What you were regretting, you didn’t know.

“You are the one sure thing in my life,” he confessed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel this way—that we all have. I—I have been keeping something from you. I’ve been afraid it would be too much, that I would lose you if you knew. But I’m only losing you now.”

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you.

Azriel licked his lips and slid his hands down until his thumbs rested along your jaw.

“You have asked about my mate.” Discomfort panged within your chest as he spoke, but you needed to hear this. Azriel closed his eyes for a pause, brows furrowed, before he met your eye once more. “It’s you.”

Your shock came second to the blinding pain creeping up your neck. It fought with you, edging closer and closer to your brain before it fell behind your eyes and shattered all comprehensible thought. Another beat and hazel eyes were lost to darkness.

You heard your name, felt your body go slack and arms brace your fall, but then there was laughing. You were laughing, but the sound wasn’t coming from your body.

“We have to go back,” you heard yourself admonish in a breathless tone. “They’re all waiting for us.”

“Let me be alone with my wife for a while longer.”

Figures materialized in the dark space of your mind.

A purple dress.

A ring around your finger.

Flowers woven into the lapel of a jacket.

“I have only been your wife for about….” you saw yourself gaze up to the ceiling of a room you did not recognize in feigned contemplation. “An hour?”

Azriel bit back a grin and nuzzled his face into your neck. “But you have been my mate for my entire life.”

“That’s not even true. It snapped a few months ago.”

You stood in the corner of the room as the scene unfolded, feeling like a stranger in some iteration of your life. You looked so at ease, wrapped up in the man who had caused you so much inner turmoil over the last few weeks.

He had said you were mates.

Was this…

“That’s not how mates work, my love,” Azriel hummed closing the distance between the skin of your cheek and his lips. “When we were created, we were created for each other. There has never been a time in my life that I did not belong to you.”

You watched yourself smile—watched yourself curl your fingers in your mate’s hair and press your forehead to his. “Gods, you’re the biggest sap.”

Azriel laughed. The sound was light and free and everything you had sought after these past few weeks. But you heard it here as he laid with you in his arms.

“I can’t believe you married me,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours.

“Of course I married you.”

A pause.

“Do you think you would have married me if things hadn’t worked out—after Day I mean.”

From the corner of the room, you analyzed how your body seemed to recoil at the question.

“Azriel, nothing could have kept me from you. Not even that monster from Day. If I hadn’t gotten my memory back—if I had to live with forgetting you—” Azriel shuddered, taking a long breath through his nose. You only brushed your fingers softly against his temple. “—I would have found you again. It probably would have been a pain in the ass to get me to listen but…”

Azriel scoffed and pulled you closer. “You’re already a pain in my ass.”

“That was the goal.”

Another soft round of laughter.

You felt like an intruder, flinching at the gleam of the ring on Azriel’s finger, hesitant to gaze around the room you had no recollection of. By the door, you could hear others in the hall. You made out Cassian and Mor’s voices, but others sparked no recognition within you. Curiosity pulled you in that direction, but before you could touch the doorknob, Azriel spoke again.

“You wouldn’t have had to find me.” He paused. “I never would have left your side.”

And then the scream of your name woke you.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction

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ceesimz · 2 months

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the taste of victory

(blurb after golden key to the sweet life + pt2)

"I knew you would be here."

Still in her Spain kit, this time with a gold European Championship medal around her neck, the effervescent captain came bounding over, understandably still on a glory high.

The Euros was a tournament that had plagued her ever since that injury, but now after coming out of international retirement, she'd done it. The trophy belonged to Spain for the next four years and Alexia had every right to relish in that fact like it was her first time winning a competitive title.

"How could we not come all this way?"

You, also in a Spain jersey, but who needed medals and trophies when there are two children on each side. Alexia had both achievements, one can only imagine her joy.

"You won, Mami!" Anaís squealed, her lanky limbs wrapping around her favourite champion just like a koala. Oriol was a bit more reserved, as he often was, definitely taking more of his Mami's introverted nature compared to Anaís who was the exact opposite of shy.

"Finally!" Alexia laughed, watching on as you rolled your eyes at her whilst she crouched down, Anaís still attached, so that Oriol could join. "Thank you both for coming. I'm sorry you had to miss your party."

Back in Spain, your neighbours were having a get-together for one of their four children they had that were all around the same age as Oriol and Anaís. The party they were due to host was the talk of the town, with a bouncy castle and a swimming pool and enough food to feed the whole of Spain, but ultimately Anaís and Oriol couldn't turn down the chance to fly to a new country to watch their Mami win yet another trophy. This was a pretty damn good excuse to not only miss the party, but throw one too when you all get back home.

You had flown on your own to watch two of the group games for Spain whilst your children stayed back at home for school until summer break, and the, albeit short and rare, time spent alone with Alexia was a welcome venture as it had been a while since that had happened. But being together as a four, celebrating the one title Alexia was missing from her vast list of accolades, well there wasn't much that could beat it.

"Felicitats, Mami." Oriol, the soon to be four year old, mumbled into Alexia's ear with his little arms clasped behind her neck.

"Grácies, amor meu." Alexia whispered, scooping him up with one arm as she holds Anaís' hand in the other and makes her way over to you.

There was a look in her eye, one you had never seen before. It frustrated you to no end that you couldn't quite place it, but that was something that would have to be unpacked another day.

"Family photo with the trophy? It is tradition." Alexia grinned at you, only for Anaís to groan beside her. "One photo, chiqui, then you can go play. Put Vicky in goal."

To no one's surprise, it looked like Anaís was swiftly following in Alexia's footsteps, whilst Oriol seemed to be a budding artist as he never went anywhere without his crayons. The two couldn't be more different, yet they got along better than most siblings, even with a larger age gap. Wait for the teenage years, Alexia would say anytime you brought it up, only for you to flick her ear and tell her to stop manifesting it.

"Mami, why do they call you a dinosaur?" Oriol asked innocently as the four of you headed over to the ceremony stage, oblivious to the painful jab he'd just sent his mother's way.

"Because she is old, Oreo." Anaís giggled to herself, sticking her tongue out at Alexia. The midfielder stopped in her tracks, turning to you with a displeased face.

"Amor, take him." She murmured, quickly handing over her son before lifting Anaís up by her armpits and sitting her on her shoulders. "Am I old if I can still do this? Pequeña mona, you are so cheeky. I just played two hours of football and won, yet you still call me old. What do I have to do?"

"Buy me some new football boots and we can forget this happened." You bursted out into loud laughter at that, because the only person Alexia had to blame for that sass was herself.

"Bien. You cannot call me old for a year yet, only when I am cuarenta. Mama is just one year younger than me, she's old too, no?"

"You just earnt yourself a night on the sofa when we get home, Ale. Another achievement, congratulations." With a sarcastic pat on her back, you march ahead of her as she's left scrambling to make up for her comment.

Ever since the word relationship was properly introduced to you as a teenager, you would worry that after being with the same person for so long, speaking to them everyday and sharing the same space, that it would get difficult and cracks would form. That never came to be true, in fact if anything, the foundations of your relationship only got stronger. There were days when things weren't easy, especially with two young children, but you couldn't have chosen a better route to go down.

It really had unlocked a life of bliss, just as the golden key had once promised.

"Oye, get back! It is our turn!" Mapi shooed away Anaís as the younger girl skipped over to the trophy.

The object was currently in the hands of Ingrid, with Mapi at her side and their two adopted children stood in front. Not so long after Alexia initially retired from the national team, Mapi had hung up her boots altogether. Ingrid was still playing, a senior figure for Barcelona and third in line of the captaincy role, whilst Mapi had flourished in the role of a stay at home mother. The Norwegian had taken a short break to make sure their children, a boy and a girl who were siblings, transitioned well into their home, and eventually their favourite weekend activity was going to watch their Mamma play.

"Hurry up, León! You didn't even play! And Ingrid isn't even Spanish!" Anaís bellowed, jumping head first into a teasing argument with the Spaniard at the outrageous claim she had made about Ingrid.

With that came a momentary quiet moment for just the two of you. Or, with Oriol too, but he was tired and more than content to slump against his Mama and take in the world around him. Alexia glanced over at her daughter and smiled seeing her bicker with her chosen family, before turning back to you where you were lightly rubbing your son's back to help him settle in the bustling environment.

"I cannot tell you how happy I am that you all came, cariño." Alexia told you quietly, moving to stand side-on so she could face you and also see Oriol's sleepy face. Her smile only brightened at both sights, and she raised an arm to rest around your waist whilst the other settled atop yours on the boy's back. "It is always the best surprise in the world, seeing you three in the stands."

"We would never have missed this, Ale. You must know that by now." You said to her, nudging her lightly.

"Well, I don't want to put pressure on any of you. It is a big ask from me to want you all to fly out here, but you did it anyway and I will always be thankful for that. You must know that by now." She reiterated the phrase back to you with a coy smile, one that deepened as you rolled your eyes affectionately.

"So, how do you feel? Eres campeóna de Europa." You grinned up at her, bumping your hip against her own as she chuckled and casted her eyes down to the medal hanging from her neck.

"It feels like completing the final chapter of a very long book, mi amor." She revealed after a moment.

There it was again. That look in her eye.

“What's that?” You asked in confusion. She could only shrug and turn to look at her surroundings. Taking it all in. The moment feels very… final.

“I don't know. I just… I think this is it. What else is there for me to do?”

You understand now. What she's hinting at is as gutting for you as it surely is for her, though it's probably at immeasurable heights for her. Definitely. The realisation steals your breath at first, solely because of the prospect of it, until it falls flat and the dust settles immediately. Because, really, who are you to argue with it.

“Are we on the same page?” You wondered quietly, and her eyes glistened with that familiar shine in the flood lights of the stadium.

“I think we are.” She smiled, one filled with an absurd amount of emotional complexity. It holds all stages of grief, yet peace can be found in it that tells you she's known this for some time. For a brief moment, you wish she could have shared this discreet burden, but it's a habit of hers you've never managed to break and at this point, you don't think you ever will.

“Qué, Mami?” Oriol suddenly lifted his head up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Nada, mijo. Ven aquí.” Alexia gently pried him from you and cuddled him closely to her, her eyes closed as she rested her head against his. “Mami gets to spend more time with you now, mi tesoro, how good is that?”

“Sí, Mami. Tired.” Oriol muttered, turning to hide his face in her neck.

“Lo sé, Oriol. We can go rest soon, just a few photos, vale? Can you do that for me?”

Almost four years with Oriol, a further seven with Anaís, and the sight of Alexia seamlessly slipping into caring parent mode was still a sight to behold. She had just won the one title that had evaded her for her whole career, yet the only thing she wanted to focus on was her family. And that was what made you want to have children with her in the first place. All these years, all the trophies and titles and achievements later, and she hadn't changed at all.

“Ale.” You hummed, catching her attention as she looked back at you with a soft smile and glossy eyes.

“Sí?”

You paused, hesitating over the one phrase that had tumbled easily from your tongue since your fourth date with her. The hesitation wasn't a bad one, you were just stumped on how to express such an intense feeling. Three words didn't seem sufficient enough.

“I love you.” Of all the times you had said it before, this one felt the strongest. This one felt like it held the most meaning.

“I love you too, amor.” Alexia replied simply, though the slight quiver in her voice and the bob of her throat revealed she understood the gravity of it too.

“Te amo.” Oriol sighed, and you suspected the goosebumps on Alexia’s arms weren't from the chill of the evening nor from Oriol's breath on her neck.

“Te amo mucho!” Anaís hugged Alexia's leg after bounding over, placing an exaggerated kiss to her hip.

In one place, on the pitch of a stadium somewhere in Europe, Alexia had got it all. One of the most notable careers of all time in the world of football, and a family with enough love to keep each other afloat through any and all storms.

Her eyes were closed as she hugged both her children, and had you looked away a second earlier, you would have missed how she wiped a tear that slipped out. In an instant, you joined your family, with one arm around Oriol and Alexia and the other on Anaís’ back where she stood hugging her Mami.

“Come on, let's go get your final photo as a futbolista before you hang up your boots.” You said, kissing her temple where she hung her head to fully embed herself in the embrace of her loved ones.

It seemed like now was the moment it all came to a head for her, where every loss and victory, injury and medal, every sacrifice and gain, it all subsided and she was left with this one last memory of the sport she had given her life to. Truly, there was no other accolade she could collect. She had made every second of her career worth it, the only thing she could do now was reap the benefits.

There was no doubt in your mind that, in a few years, she’ll be back to the sport that’s in her DNA at this point, except as a coach with the same goal she had as a player. But that’s a future worry, because for now the only item on the agenda was to make sure the final photo of her career is one of carefree, unabashed joy with your children.

With one final wipe of her tears from you, she took Anaís’ hand again and kept Oriol in her hold whilst your hand lingered on her back, and led the four of you to where the trophy was calling her name.

“What does it mean to hang up your boots, Mami?” A quiet but slightly blubbery chuckle came from the woman you loved, before she sniffled and looked to her left at you.

“It means I am going to retire from football, mija.”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso community

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bwabys-scenarios · 9 months

Text

NSFW

He was your loyal, attentive knight. You had been childhood friends, ever since you saved him after sneaking out of the palace walls. Since then, he had been training so one day, he could take care of you.

At first, he saw you as what you were, the princess he was meant to serve. You were intelligent, beautiful, and most importantly you were kind. Your people loved you, and you loved them.

And you loved him too, a fact you would share daily throughout your childhoods. When he started training to be a knight at the young age of 10, you were always there to bandage him up and let him lay his head in your lap after a tough day. You were both children, but he clung to you like a child would his mother. He was often scolded by the maids and senior knights for his clingy behavior. You were the princess and he was getting too old to be staying so close.

He would be a teenager soon, which meant the days of childhood innocence and days of fun spent with his princess would be over. Once she turned 13, she wouldn’t be able to interact with any males besides her personal knight.

He worked his way up the chain, seeing you in secret when he could manage. You missed him, and as the years passed by his innocent, platonic love was starting to shift into something more… lustful. He caught himself staring when you bent over to pick up your fallen books, his eyes following your plump hips as you walked away.

No, he couldn’t see you that way. It was against his code of conduct, his knightly duty was to protect you and your innocence so that you could find a suitable husband one day and bear an heir to the throne.

But at knight, when he laid along in his chambers, he would stroke his hardened cock to the thought of filling you with his seed, claiming you both body and soul. It was a nasty, sinful thought he had to keep to himself, he knew that.

It was hard though, when you were just so tempting.

It took him 6 years to become your own personal knight. You were 19 years old now, marrying age. He held you to his chest as you sobbed at night with the knowledge that you would have to marry someone you didn’t love.

He tried his best to comfort you and push away his feelings of love and lust, but god did it get difficult when you begged him to help you escape. He should have refused and reported your urge to flee to the king… but he didn’t.

“I’ll help you escape, but… I need to ask you a question first.”

You nodded, clinging to him desperately as his hands ran over your hair. “My princess, you… cry as if you are already in love. Could I know the person who has won your heart?”

It hurt him to ask this, making his own heart wrench painfully. You nodded, sniffling slightly as you look up him through tear filled eyes, your cheeks warm. “Yes… it’s you. I love you, I have for years… being apart from you has been so hard… please, I don’t want to marry anyone else but y-“

Before you could finish your sentence, he had already pinned you down, his lips pressing into yours. That was all he needed to hear, he would be claiming you for his own now, and as soon as he was done he’d be stealing you away.

“Mine… my princess, my everything…”

He spent the night worshipping your body, making sure you knew just how much he truly loved you. He fucked into you, his finger rubbing soft, attentive circles into your needy clit. It didn’t take long for him to fill your womb with his seed, making you his and his alone for all eternity.

He had deflowered his princess, taking her virginity and her innocence, the exact opposite of what a knight was supposed to do, but he didn’t care anymore. You were his princess, yes, but you were also his first and only love.

And he would never let you go.

————————

||GOJO ||GETO || NANAMI ||CHOSO ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||CHROLLO ||ARMIN ||EREN ||JEAN ||REINER ||RENGOKU ||GIYUU ||OBANAI ||SANEMI ||YOUR FAV ||

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earthtooz · 2 years

Note

ik ur in ur reo phase BUT HEAR ME OUT EARTH ONLY YOU CAN DO THIS

rin ACCIDENTALLY publicizing ur relationship bec mf got jealous as hell when ur face appeared in the kiss cam IN HIS GAME??????? WITH A RANDOM GUY AND WAS HE FUMING??? YOU AND I KNOW HE WAS THROWIN HANDS

thats all

I'M HEARING YOU OUT. warning for unrealistic scenario, i wrote this in like 20 minutes so it's unedited :p apologies for any mistakes.

imagine being rin's secret partner, the one he keeps behind closed doors because he values you too much to let the invasive eyes of the internet see. he values your relationship too much to let it get tarnished by social media, so he hides any affiliation with you like his life depends on it, only to come home and shower you with the adoration and affection he wishes he could show to the rest of the world.

in the spotlight, he is itoshi rin, japan's prized striker, their golden player, but when he's out of the spotlight, he is your lover. the man who drapes himself over you when things get too rough and he needs a breather. he is yours to cherish, where you have to change your phone wallpaper every other week because there's so many good photos of you two. he is yours to love, he is yours to go to when you feel too lonely, he is yours.

but also imagine, itoshi rin's jealousy and possessiveness no longer being able to rest at bay. it'd been accumulating for the past few weeks, this desire to show you off and boast that it's him who gets to know you like no other.

then the cup overfills, his jealousy tearing him by the seams that he loosely stitched together to withhold this carnal beast resting within him.

all because of a damn kiss cam.

you had been sitting in the vip section of the stadium- where special members are granted tickets, and even though you tell rin that it's fine for you to just sit in the general area, he refuses and tells you that he's bought you the ticket anyway. leaving you with no room for arguments. well. not that there was any to begin with.

anyways, you'd just so happen to sit next to someone who bought vip tickets with no affiliation with any blue lock members. you think he's just a die hard fan, so when he asks you if you like them, you lie and say that you won these tickets at a raffle.

the guy wasn't the most favourable person ever, in fact, you found yourself awkwardly responding to what he was saying, sometimes giving him short and succinct replies because of how... weird... he was. not to be disrespectful but you did not like his vibes. you just hope these 90 minutes can be over quickly.

yeah well, how funny is it that the kiss cam lands on you and the insufferable guy beside you?

you're mortified when you see it on the screen but the person beside you doesn't warrant the same reaction. immediately, he turns to face you, anticipation heavy on his features. in fact, he looks rather... excited...

"no, no, i have a boyfriend, i-" you begin abruptly as he leans in and you have no choice but to helplessly lean back, evading his lips and delaying it as much as you can. you even try rejecting him by frantically waving your hands, panicked and unsure of what to do.

until you hear him.

"back. the. fuck. off!" comes a shout from the pitch; the voice very familiar to your ears that you can't help but instantly relax from hearing it.

your seat was relatively close to the field which meant that those around you could hear the distinct voice of itoshi rin ripping through the air, fury evident and baring its fangs as he all but punches the barrier with each word.

however, everyone in the stadium could see itoshi rin as all cameras pan to him, witnessing his wrath as he shouts from the top of his voice. everyone around you is silent and you don't know whether you want to shrivel up into the ground or run to him and embrace him as tightly as you can. to find sanctuary in his warmth, away from the pushy guy who can't wrap his head around the idea that no means no.

itoshi rin decides for you, effortlessly jumping over the (considerably high???) barrier and making a beeline for you, skipping some stairs. thank goodness for a side seat because he comes to a stop before you, adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he looks at you with heated passion, huffing and puffing.

"rin?" you whisper. he doesn't hear it, looking up at the various stadium screens to see if the kiss cams were still on you. smirking in satisfaction when he realises they are, rin all but pulls you up from your seat and kisses you with so much intensity and fervour that you feel lightheaded. very much so.

the stadium is cheering but you can't focus on it, not when rin's holding you to him so closely, practically trying to meld you to him. not even trying to push him away is enough to snap him out of whatever primal instinct has taken over him, so you grab his face and jerk away from him, not wanting to get too carried away.

before you can utter a word, rin looks behind you, and the coldness in his expression says everything you need to know.

he doesn’t care about dignity at this point. he just needed the world to know that you were his.

"you're dead if you try that again, you lukewarm fuckface," he then turns to you. you shiver from the intensity of his gaze. "i'll kill him next time," he promises before hugging you close to him once again, practically glaring at the cameras. "i'll kill anyone who tries to get to close."

THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON would u believe me if i said i'd been waiting for an opportunity like this? well i'm speaking the truth and i'm so glad u gave me the opportunity i've been waiting for AYEEEEEEE COME BACK ANY TIME YOU ARE SO WELCOME ON THE EARTHTOOZ BLOG, PRETTY <33

—

#this was so short #but i took the idea and ran with it tbh #UNEDITED LMFAOOOOO #OOO jumpscare #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin #blue lock x reader #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #earf's itoshi rin rambles

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amongemeraldclouds · 2 months

Text

a summer night with the slytherin boys

Ft. Lorenzo Berkshire, Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott

My official entry for week two of @thatdammchickennugget and @finalgirllx's Jinxed July. Challenged myself to do all prompts!

✿ Masterlist | 1.9k words | Fluff, established relationship

Lorenzo Berkshire

Too Sweet

The firewood popped and crackled as you inhaled the smell of burning sugar. You instantly yanked your hand away along with the stick you were holding out. You frowned at the small fire that once was a sweet, innocent marshmallow.

Beside you, Enzo cackled. “Bringing the fire closer to you, dear?” You groaned impatiently. It had been your third attempt at roasting a marshmallow. Having been raised in a concrete jungle, you had never gone camping before nor tried making s’mores. When Enzo invited you to go as part of your summer adventures together, you jumped up and down with excitement.

There was nothing exciting about it now. You stared at the charred remains as the orange glow flickered out in the cool evening air. It seemed the marshmallow was roasting you instead. “Now now, that poor marshmallow did nothing to you,” Enzo said as he lowered the stick, bringing it away from your eye level.

“It’s taunting me,” you snarled.

With an amused smile, he sat closer to you. While you held the stick, he removed your latest victim from the other end and replaced it with a fresh marshmallow. “I’ll show you, okay?”

He wrapped his hand around yours and all the annoyance melted. In your rage, you hadn’t noticed how much closer he had gotten.

When you turned to look at him, you took in the upward curl of his thick lashes that you were always jealous of. His eyes glittered like the stars you were gazing at. His mouth curved with that special smile he only had when he was around you. You had been together for a while now and yet the butterflies still raced around your stomach as if you had just seen him for the first time.

With his hand on yours, he moved the stick back to the fire and it snapped your attention back to the present. “The key here is to bring it just close enough,” he said patiently, “spin it like this so the heat gets distributed evenly.” Your insides seemed to twist along with the motion as heat crept up your cheeks and it wasn’t from the fire.

“And that’s it,” he said, bringing your hand back with a perfectly toasted marshmallow this time. He grabbed the crackers and chocolate you had laid out and pressed the marshmallow in between, squeezing it into gooey goodness.

“I don’t know how I’ll eat that when you’re the sweetest thing here tonight,” you said, beaming up at him.

“And your words alone will give me diabetes,” he quipped, bringing the s’more to your mouth.

You took a bite and closed your eyes, feeling the chocolate and marshmallow melt in your mouth as you chomped on the crunchy crackers. “Never mind. I take that back, it’s sinful for something to taste this good.”

“Hey, no take backs,” Enzo insisted.

Mattheo Riddle

A treacherous wave in the late hour

You pushed Mattheo away and used the momentum to propel you forward, your laughter ringing out into the evening air, sand spraying behind you as you ran towards the sea.

When Mattheo first invited you to go backpacking with him this summer, you nearly said no, because it meant tossing your carefully laid out schedule into the wind. But you didn’t want him to spend another summer alone in his family’s depressing house.

And you hate to admit it, but he was right. There was a thrill that came with living in the moment, not caring about the days ahead. There was also the fact that being with Mattheo meant exploring exotic places, laughing over late night shenanigans, and more adventures in a few weeks than you’ve had in years. You had never felt more alive.

You squealed as the cold water hit your skin, waking you better than any coffee could in the late hour. “I won!” You declared proudly, turning back to see Mattheo joining you.

“You cheated,” he said, playfully splashing water at you.

“You just said, first one in the water wins so I win,” you shrugged. “Now where’s my reward?”

“Yeah?” He said, a dangerous smirk on his face as he prowled towards you. You tried to take a step back but the treacherous wave pushed you closer to him instead.

When he was near enough, he pulled you in, his strong arms locking you in place against his toned body. There was no place you’d rather be anyway. He brought his mouth close to your ear as his hands traced your figure. “I can think of so many rewards.”

Draco Malfoy

A colourful promise

You stepped out the into the evening air and took Draco’s hand as he led you to the balcony of his family’s holiday home overlooking the beach.

You pulled the shawl tightly around you as a chilly breeze drifted past. Draco wrapped a protective arm around your hip to warm you up. For a quiet moment, you watched the rippled glow of the moon on the sea as waves crashed onto the shore and retreated.

“What surprise could you possibly have for me this late in the evening? You could hardly see anything,” you asked.

“That’s exactly why it’s perfect, love,” he winked at you as he pointed to the sky. “Here goes.”

You followed his gaze, unsure what to look at until lights exploded in the sky. Fireworks. You watched in wonder as small circles burst and expanded, illuminating the dark sky.

You looked at his grinning face and watched his features reflect the glowing colors. He promised you the best summer of your life and you told him not to make bold statements. He just scoffed and said ‘watch me’.

And there he was, flying you to different places that summer in a private jet, taking you shopping and dining at the finest restaurants. Now lights exploded in the sky simply because he promised this summer would be memorable.

“Look at the fireworks, not at me,” he said smugly when he caught you staring.

“I just can’t believe you,” you admitted, gazing back at the colourful sky.

“It’s you I can’t believe. See those fireworks? That wonder I saw in your eyes? It’s how you make me feel.”

Blaise Zabini

Summer lights

The wind carried your hair as you propelled yourself forward, letting the swing carry you as you leaned your head back. If you weren’t so wrapped up in the moment, you would have noticed your boyfriend stop his swinging to gaze at you.

He tried to commit the moment to his memory. Your carefree laughter, the clean smell of your shampoo, your beautiful face. He felt so lucky to have you.

You swung back again and the wind brought your hair in the opposite direction, covering your entire face. You laughed at how silly it all was. You planted your feet in the sand to slow the momentum.

Earlier in the day, you were nervous that Blaise was taking you to meet his mum for the first time. A thousand thoughts crossed your mind in the days that led up to that moment. What ifs that kept your heart racing like they were its personal trainer. Blaise assured you that you’d hit it off and surprisingly, you did.

You finally noticed Blaise’s eyes on you. “What? I still don’t have that cake on my face, don’t I?” You ran a hand through your face, “I swear, I wiped—“

Blaise chuckled, “no, I just like seeing you happy.” You mirrored his grin and then a small blinking light beside him lit up.

“You didn’t tell me you had a floating light in the garden,” you remarked.

It was his turn to be confused and he followed your gaze where a few more floating lights appeared. “These are fireflies!”

You gazed around the garden as more and more drew closer, lighting up the garden. It was as if the stars descended from the heavens themselves. You watched them glow in wonder.

“Did you know that if you catch one, you can make a wish?” He said holding out his hand as a firefly landed on his palm. “Like this,” he cupped it and whispered his wish before releasing it back.

“I don’t need to wish for anything, I have everything I need here,” you beamed at him.

“Okay love, I’ll buy all the clothes and hand bags you want,” he teased and you slapped his arm.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

He brought you in for a hug, savouring the way you melted against him. “I know,” he said gently kissing your forehead.

“I’ll buy you all the shoes you want instead,” he quipped.

“Blaise!”

Theodore Nott

Sunshine smile

(A/N: this is the only one that happens during the day and is not an established relationship)

Theodore Nott hated summer with its long, hot days that scorched everything it touched. Public places were more crowded than he’d like. He wouldn’t see his friends again for a few months and he sure as hell wasn’t going to go home to his father. Instead, he went to a resort on a remote island to get away from it all.

He met you while he was sulking over breakfast, trying to get lost in a book. You excitedly introduced yourself and despite being friends with Enzo, Theo could not for the life of him figure out how someone could have so much energy so early in the day. You had recently read the exact book he was reading and loved it!

He was about to ask you to leave when you took the seat across from him and sat down like you owned the place. (He would soon find out that your family actually did.)

You wanted to know his thoughts on the book. When you shared yours, he was surprised how insightful you were, he even found himself agreeing with most of your ideas. Though he kept that to himself.

He was relieved when breakfast was nearly over so he could have his peace and quiet back, but then you offered to be a local guide to the island. When you mentioned a bookstore that contained rare books and lesser known authors, he found that he couldn’t say ‘no’ to you.

That was how he find himself pedaling beside you as you shared the history of your home. There was something so charming about the island as if it were untouched by the world outside it. Just the open air and clear skies.

The quaint little town in the distance was just a small stretch of buildings that contained the necessities. There were other spots you promised to show him in the coming days. In the meantime, you browsed the bookshelves together as promised and he bought a few rare items he was excited to dive into.

When you returned to the resort, you relaxed by the beach chairs, listening to the ocean waves as the sun splashed hues of orange and yellow against the blue sky. Theo opened the book you recommended and was already captivated by the first few pages.

When he looked at you to share his thoughts, he found you peacefully asleep on the chair. He took that opportunity to study you, the way the wind caressed your hair and your chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He found himself smiling.

Summer, he thought, wasn’t so bad after all.

✿ Masterlist

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hiddenlife-manager · 5 months

Note

I beg i beg i beg, i’ve read your latest Carlos fic repeatedly, PLEASE give me a part two, please please please i know it isn’t everyone’s taste but ITS MINE PLEASE

Carlos Sainz Jr Anal x femReader

cw... raw, cock, nsfw, anal sex, slight praise kink, creampie in ass, plot, hair gripping, hair pulling, simple sex due to injury, soft dom carlos, overstimulation, lube usage, lack of female pronouns, and lack of breast mentions, etc

notepad... hehe you ask and you recieve I wanted to go with a slight softer point of view in this due to his appendix being removed. I am like down for an anal series cause when i tell you I HAVE A LIST OF POSITONS. Anyway one down of the two stories I am writing for this month.

Part One

“He did it again. Carlos Sainz has won the Australian Grand Prix.” You heard an announcer state through the monitors hung on the walls in the Ferrari garage. You shook your head and placed your hands on your head to breathe for a moment. This race left you stressed, your mind worrying only about Carlos's current condition. What comforted you was seeing his car cross the checkered line, which allowed you to see Carlos was perfectly fine. You fanned yourself off rather quickly and rushed off with the rest of the Ferrari team to join the crowd.

Carlos drove his car into the garage and got out slowly, with the help of others, due to his inability to move rather quickly. He pumped his arm up in the air, walking to the crowd of all his team members; they hugged and cheered his name for this amazing win. The group high-fived or hugged him to celebrate. He eventually reached you, hugging you tightly, not letting you go for even a second, still wearing his helmet. Your lips kissed his hemelt, saying goodbye. He took his helmet and neck support off and celebrated with Lando and Charles before heading to the podium while you clapped the entire time.

The entire day was filled with interviews that he had to participate in. Carlos's win was important for multiple reasons; it showed his worth as a driver and also made him the only person so far to break current world champion Max Verstappen's streak. Yet he finally arrived back at the garage and walked slowly, his one hand resting on his side, where his appendix was and where the bandages currently are. He embraced you, allowing you to give extra support by placing your arm behind his muscular back.

“Another win for Carlos Sainz Jr., and right after getting his appendix removed, it is quite impressive.” You spoke with nothing but a joking tone. He looked down at you and kissed your lips quickly. “Amor, cállate.” He laughed while the two of you walked to the car. You helped him in carefully and couldn’t help but laugh just a bit.

“I am simply stating a fact. Perhaps all drivers should get their appendices removed. Well, except for Alex, his appendix is gone.” You two sat beside each other in the car, his hand slowly going up your leg. He didn’t care if he had his appendix removed or just raced; he wanted his part of the deal. Ever since the first time he made it to the podium, he wanted his gift. It had been four times in total, and now he wanted it again. “Recuerda el trato.” He whispered in your ear; he knew speaking in English risked the driver hearing it, and you had learned the saying, so you knew what he was saying.

Your lips were on his the moment the both of you entered the hotel room. The door shut behind you two, but you made sure to be careful with Carlos. You were well aware he was still recovering and was feeling slight lingering pain. You grabbed his hand the second you two stopped kissing and slowly walked him to a chair. You sat on his lap, being careful.

"Carlito, I will never forget,” you smirked, kissing his neck and slowly going down his body. “Besides, I have been planning the best way to do this.” Your hands reached his zipper and slid it down. His cock came out, and it was clear he was worked up. You heard him let out a gentle breath, but no moan. You wanted to take your time, but knowing Carlos, he just wanted to be with you. You sat up, walked over to the luggage, and pulled out the lube. You tossed it to him, and even if he was recovering, Carlos never missed it and caught it with ease.

“Amor, you are truly rushing.” Carlos paused but chuckled, shaking his head and running his hand through his dark and soft hair. He opened the bottle and squeezed it onto his cock. You walked over to him. You were still standing, and Carlos was sitting staring up at you with his signature smile on his lips. Your hands touched his cock and began to spread a generous amount of lube. “I don't mind, eres mia after all.” He groaned and threw his head back. Your hands were working around his cock, and smirked.

“You love this, Carlos. I know you're sad. You can’t fuck my ass every single day.” He placed the bottle to the side and grabbed your hair, pulling you up and kissing your lips. He let go of your hair and placed his hands on your hips, rolling through your dips. He helped you onto his lap so you didn’t hurt him. You decided to just rely on the lube his cock had, knowing it would take longer for you to get him in you.

You slowly lowered your ass onto his cock and groaned as you gripped his shoulders and fell forward. He didn't care; he loved how weak you got. You moaned as you slowly made him enter and stretch you out. You were clearly struggling to take him in. You got him half way into you, but you had to stop. You pulled yourself off of him and were breathing heavily.

“You can take it.” He whispered in your ear, caressing your hips, and you fully put yourself on his cock and moaned loudly. You couldn’t believe how good it always felt. You were out of breath from him being inside of you. Slowly, you started to go up and down, moving the way you knew he liked it. You rolled your hips each time you went down on him, and you could hear his soft grunts. “Perfecta…” He groaned as you were slow.

“Love being on the podium, Carlito?" He smirked as he kissed your lips and held your hips to go up and down at a faster pace. You were a mess from the way he was softly praising you; he loved your body so much that he desired this more than any man. His hips slightly buckled up into your ass, and he was able to pull out a louder moan from you. Your hips went faster while moans began to slip from your lips, and he continued to kiss you, attempting to disguise the moans through kissing. It was clear he was feeling just as weak as you were; the feeling of tightness was overwhelming, and he loved your thighs against his.

“Si, si asi!” He groaned as you went faster and faster on his cock. You were grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand, and your other pulled at his hair, gently snaking up from behind his neck. He smirked as you were being very vocal through moans but no words. He may have just gotten out of surgery, but he needed this; he needed you and your ass. You had everything he wanted. He continued to praise you in Spanish.

“Me vengo!” You moaned. He loved you using the Spanish that he taught you. He placed his lips on your neck and began to suck as he took over, fucking your ass. You were clearly slowing down, and he would continue as you shook. Your orgasm hit you hard, and he cared very little, his cock ramming into your ass, your arms holding onto him weakly. “So much…” You moaned, but you were nothing but a mess, moaning and crying out loud. He loved the noise you made. It was clear you were perfect for him. He eventually felt himself get closer and closer, ramming harsher into your ass until he came inside your ass. You let out one last sigh of pleasure as you fell on him weakly.

“I need to teach you more Spanish words.” He pulled out of you, and he helped you off him as you leaked his cum, and he kissed your neck. “Estoy cansado y tu.” You nodded, and he was still weak from his surgery, but he sat there, hugging you tightly and brushing your hair with his hands.

#fanfic #x reader #oneshot #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #ferrari carlos #carlos sainz #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz jr #cs55 x reader #cs55 smut

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diremoone · 11 months

Text

tlc, baby | g. satoru

w — periods, mentions of severe cramps, concerned bf ‘toru who doesn’t like seeing his gf in pain, an author who wanted toji to win the poll but is gonna do all the boys anyway bc toji, and the fact that this is too short and crummy omg (don’t write while hungry haha), hopefully toji’s is longer and better :D

[ divider cred @/firefly-graphics ]

5:14 am

The wake up is sudden, abrupt and extremely painful. You know what’s going on, but the second you try and do something about it, you find yourself sinking to the floor beside the bed in misery.

You really don’t want to walk downstairs, that’s gonna be misery. But if you don’t get and remedy this soon, you fear it’s just going to become worse.

It also sucks because your boyfriend isn’t home. You’d really, really like him to be home. But he isn’t. He’s out looking for an elusive Special Grade curse that nearly took out Mei Mei a few weeks ago on behalf of the stupid elders.

You’d curse them more if you didn’t feel like shit.

You burrow your head into the mattress and focus. Gathering up a little bit of energy, you stand and make your way to the kitchen, only to end up sitting down by the cabinets. You groan, knees up close to your chest to try and relieve some of the pain. You’re tempted to bang your head into the cabinets a few times, but the rationality of not adding more pain to the mix won over.

You can barely think straight; one second there’s the thought of running a bath and the next it’s waves of pain. You think about what’s in the fridge, then you’re overwhelmed by the intense need to barf.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

And then a loud voice echoes through the large home from your bedroom.

“Baaaaaabbbeeee!”

You snicker at your boyfriend who teleported into the bedroom that doesn’t have you in it. You hide your laughter behind your hand until another wave of agony rolls over your uterus and up your spine.

Satoru eventually finds you in the kitchen (after looking in the bathroom and under the bed). His smile disappears the second he sees you, but you don’t take notice since your forehead is burrowed into the wood of the cabinet door. He frowns, not liking the expression on your face.

“Baby?”

Satoru crouches and lowers the black mask you’d gotten him for his birthday. His heavenly blue eyes flicker up and down with worry.

“Monthly,” you manage to get out, and he instantly knows what you mean. Your entire body shakes with a shudder, so much so that the giant man is easily lifting you onto his lap to cuddle, his back now the one that presses against the wall of the kitchen.

Satoru is a heater, nothing short of the furnace that you’ve been in need of. One large, hot hand is pressed against your back, the other tucked against your lower abdomen in just the right spot. And the relief you feel makes you literally dizzy.

Your massive boyfriend however, is even more concerned than ever. The amount of stress he’d felt release from your body was nothing short of insane to him. You’d always relax and let go of all your stress in his hold, yes, but the amount of tension to how limp you were in his big arms was borderline upsetting.

You’ve never been this tense, this stressed. How long had you been like this before he was home?

“I’ll be okay,” you speak to him breathlessly. “I just need something for the pain and something to eat.”

Satoru lists off some things in the pantry and fridge, all of which makes your stomach turn and just burrow your head into his shoulder more. It isn’t until he gets to the sweeter side of the food you do have does the nausea fade away.

He reluctantly pulls away and grabs a familiar looking container on top of the fridge with a mischievous smile, one of his hands still holding yours as he stretches his massive 6’3 body across the kitchen to nab the period painkillers you need.

You don’t see him shove them and a small water bottle in his pocket, but you see him wrap his giant hand around the white container right before he fucking lifts you up off of the counter with one fucking arm and carries you back to bed.

But you don’t complain. You’re way too lethargic and fatigued. And why would you anyway?

He places you back on your side of the bed and gently plops the white container on your lap before kicking off his shoes and whips off his jacket so dramatically that you laugh. You scream as he jumps on the bed, almost on top of you. Satoru does nothing but laugh like a lunatic in return while he turns on the TV across from the bed.

Like magnets, you two end up snuggled deep into the big, thick pillows your boyfriend has propped up behind you in an instant. One of his arms is wrapped around you as you nestle into his side. But the fun doesn’t last. Your brows furrow as another wave of searing pain washes over you from your uterus. You groan and dip your nose into his collar, sharply inhaling and shakily exhaling.

“Here’s the magic pills, baby. Take ‘em.” Satoru’s voice is not the same, high-pitched excitable one he normally has. It’s the deep voice, the one he uses when he’s diving into his emotions. It’s the voice that he uses when he’s sharing his love with you in bed, or when he’s simply just loving you and taking care of you. Just like he is now. The tone of his voice is calming, relaxing, reassuring; all of the above makes your brain go fuzzy.

You pop the pill-shaped-relief in and chug it down with water and ‘toru wraps his arm around you, tugging you to him sweetly. He pops open the large white container, revealing all the chocolate chip cookies inside of it.

You laugh. “Oh my god, Satoru! This is what this is?”

“What else could it possibly be?” he jokes.

Not even a few minutes later though, the agony returns. The tearing feeling from your uterus is almost too much, lasting almost all the way through the Disney castle intro and the first couple minutes of Big Hero 6 with your head tucked into your boyfriend’s collar.

Satoru presses a kiss to your head and puts his hands in the same spots from earlier, with just as much tension leaving your body. He exhales silently.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells you. “It’s not worth it.”

“Want to…” you mumble, then let out a heavy sigh as heavy cramps roll over you again. “You’ve been gone a week.” You aim for a cookie and eat it in two bites.

Just like the cookies, you’re sweet — too sweet and too good for him, and he swears by it. He presses another kiss to the top of your head and replies, “Spend time with me by getting some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. And I’ll take care of you tomorrow, too. Whatever my girl wants.”

“…. Sure?”

“Positive.”

“…..Mmmmm’kay.”

Satoru knows you’re still awake and working through the pain even half an hour later. You may not be watching the movie, but you’re still listening, giggling when Fred screams, “CAR!” to Wasabi as the villain tries to kill them.

It’s not too long after that though, he feels your cursed energy finally relax. Your body is clearly slack against his own. He chuckles at feeling a little bit of drool soak through his shirt. You’re in a deep sleep, thank goodness. And he hopes it stays that way. The medicine worked. He wasn’t sure if his eyes could take the sight of your cursed energy bearing that much sufferance much longer before cracking himself.

Satoru closes his own heavenly blue eyes to sleep. Yeah, he’ll definitely be here tomorrow. Taking care of his woman was going to be his first priority. Mission be damned.

”G’night sweets. See you in the morning.”

@vagabond-umlaut — @heresan — @dellalyra — @torusmochi — @nayrring — @out-of-reach22

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojou x reader #gojo satoru #gojo oneshot #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk oneshot

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absurd-ash · 9 months

Note

Sun Wukong and macaque x reader that can manhandle them?

Manhandling

{Wukong & Macaque x Reader}

To say he finds it attractive is somewhat of an understatement

The fact that you, a mortal, can make him, the great sage equal to heaven, question his own strength? Oh boy

Although, lets be honest, if you two were actually fighting physically fighting each other and he actually wanted to hurt you, he could 100% win, he's the Monkey King, what did you expect?

But that doesn't change the fact that you can absolutely give him a few bruises here and there

He definitely uses your strength as an excuse to train with you, aka, hang out with you

Whenever your working out or training, you can bet your life on the fact that this man is checking you out

respectfully of course

Even though your strength makes him question his own, he has a big enough ego to tell himself he's just as strong as ever

Although, some nights he lays awake worrying that he's growing more weak, but luckily he soon realizes that thats not the case and your just oddly super strong

he also uses your strength as an excuse to make you train Mk instead

Obviously not with the Monkey King and staff powers, but more with just plain old strength

Dont blame him! He needs a break once in a while, at least thats what he says

But in all reality, he just loves watching his two favorite people bond, even though its over fighting/training with each other

If you ever just decide that you just want to pick him up, feel free to do so, he won't fight against it, he'll just smugly smirk

This especially works if you want to cuddle or spend time with him, who was he to say no to you?

Besides, it doesnt look like he has a choice, you know, with being thrown over your shoulder and everything

Does he find it attractive? Absolutely, 100%. Will he ever tell you that? Hell no!

Although, it does make him question his won strength and worry that he's growing weak...

Can you blame him? Almost his whole life he's been comparing himself to Wukong, so the fact that you, can easily hold your own in a fight with him, makes him worry that he's growing weak, weaker than Wukong...

But all you need to do to dispose of these thoughts is to ask him to train with you

Why would you ask him if he was an easy fight to you, right?

At least this means he's a challenging fight to you, challenging enough to want to train with him

He trains a lot, so having you there, training with him makes it 100% better

He can also gives you a few tips and tricks if you ever workout with him or in front of him, he just wants you to be able to protect yourself

If you ever pick him up, either it be for cuddles, quality time, to put him to bed, or because he's in trouble, his whole face will be red

He'll sputter out shit like "I can walk on my own you know", but in all reality, he really does find it attractive

So if you make it a habit, just carrying him around almost everywhere you go, he'll just quickly become quiet, not trusting his own words to not expose him on how much he actually likes being carried by you

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi! Sorry this is so short! I didn't really know what to do with this prompt so I was just trying my best! Hope you enjoy! :D

#macaque x reader #lmk macaque #sun wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk #lmk x reader #x reader #lego monkie kid #request

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iamgonnagetyouback · 4 days

Text

𝟷.𝟼𝚔 || 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 (PART 4)

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being the forgotten one your whole life, you thought that they wouldn't forget you.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

♡ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

It had been a few weeks since the fallout between you and the Marauders, and though you’d forgiven Remus, you were still waiting on the others to grovel appropriately. Remus had apologized sincerely, and after some much-needed cuddling, you had let it slide. But the rest of the boys? Not so much.

Today, you and Remus were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, enjoying a quiet moment together when the door to the common room burst open. James, Sirius, and Peter stumbled in, laughing about some prank they'd pulled earlier in the day.

They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw you and Remus snuggled up. Their eyes narrowed suspiciously as they took in the scene.

"Everything alright between you two?" James asked, his voice laced with curiosity, while Sirius crossed his arms, clearly trying to read the room.

You raised an eyebrow at them, already irritated at the question. "Why wouldn’t it be?"

"Well, you know," Sirius drawled, glancing sideways at James, "since Remus is… Remus. And everything." He tried to sound casual, but you could tell he was fishing.

You crossed your arms, glaring at them. "Oh, now you care to talk about it?"

James blinked. "About what?"

Remus sighed beside you, knowing exactly where this was headed. The rest of the boys exchanged confused glances, still pretending they didn’t know what you were talking about.

"Don't play dumb," you said, sitting up and fixing each of them with an annoyed look. "The fact that none of you thought it necessary to tell me that Remus is a werewolf."

Sirius’s face went slack for a second before he tried to recover. "What?! Remus? A werewolf?" He threw his hands up dramatically. "I had no idea—"

Peter asked, confused, "How'd you figur-"

"Oh, please," you snapped, cutting him off. "With all those very visible scars, the four of you disappearing every full moon, and let’s not forget the howling coming from the Shrieking Shack. Do I look like an idiot to you?"

James bit back a laugh while Peter’s eyes widened in panic.

"And the final clue?" you continued, glaring at each of them. "All of you standing me up on our date the day after the full moon. Even Snape could figure it out!"

The mention of Snape's name made them all freeze. You noticed the exchange of guilty glances between them.

“Wait,” you said, gasping as realization hit. “Snape knew?”

They were all dead silent.

You turned to Remus, narrowing your eyes. "Well, congratulations, Lupin. You're officially back on the list."

Remus groaned dramatically. “Not the list.”

The other three burst into laughter, relieved to hear Remus wasn’t fully off the hook either.

"Alright," James said, stepping forward with a cheeky grin. "What’s it gonna take to get off this list?"

You smirked, finally ready to dole out some consequences. "Remus will be doing all of my assignments for the next six months. Except during the full moon, of course.”

Remus let out a breath of relief. "That's not so bad—"

You cut him off with a wicked smile. "I'm not finished. You’ll also be partnering with Lucius Malfoy in Charms class.”

Remus’s eyes widened in horror. “Nooooo! Anyone but Malfoy!”

You ignored his whining and turned to James, who was now grinning as if he’d already won your forgiveness.

"And Jamie here," you said sweetly, reaching out to pinch his cheek, "is going to switch partners with me in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"That’s alright,” James shrugged, clearly thinking he got off easy. "I can handle that."

You smirked. “Then I’ll have Lily, and you’ll have Snape.”

James’s face fell instantly. “W-wait, hold on. You can’t—”

You cut him off with a grin. “Too late. It’s decided.”

James groaned dramatically, flopping onto the nearest couch as if the world had ended.

Next, you turned to Sirius, who was already bracing himself.

“And Sirius,” you said, drawing out his name, “you’ll be spending every evening studying with me in the library. And we both know how much you hate studying.”

Sirius groaned loudly, but you weren’t done.

"Oh, and one more thing," you added with a smirk. "No sex for one month."

His jaw dropped in horror. "NOOOOOOO!"

James burst out laughing, while Remus patted Sirius on the back sympathetically.

Finally, you turned to Peter, who looked the most nervous of them all. "Pete," you said softly, "I really didn’t want to do this, but you’re going to have to give up sweets and candies for an entire month."

Peter gasped in absolute horror, clutching the chocolate bar he was holding as if his life depended on it. You reached out, gently plucking it from his hand.

"Sorry, Pete. It’s the rules."

Peter fell to his knees, dramatically crying out, “Not my sweets! Anything but my sweets!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the theatrics. The boys were always a handful, but at least now they were going to work to earn their way back into your good graces.

"Don’t worry," you said with a smirk. "I’m sure you’ll all manage… eventually."

They groaned collectively, each already dreading the next few weeks.

But you had to admit, watching them squirm like this? Absolutely worth it.

thank you so much @pandainfinitely for the idea to write the grovelling part!!

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eureka-its-zico · 10 months

Text

Happy Birthday, Zoro

Synopsis: Zoro wasn't much for birthday's until he met you.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: fluffy, friends to lovers, (Zoro and Doc)

Words: 2.5K

A/N: I had to write something for the birthday boy before the day is over. It is probably the shortest thing I've written in a hot minute, but I hope it is still enjoyable. Much love, Jenn.

He’d let it slip one night while you’d all been celebrating Nami’s birthday. Of course, she’d asked for fireworks and pretty gifts. She’d also asked to play poker, but that was something you and the rest of the crew weren’t willing to talk about.

There was no way someone won every single time.

Cheating aside, the one thing that Zoro could agree on was the booze. You’d both been sent out to pick it up. Who better than the resident alcoholic on the ship to know what a good brand was?

What you hadn’t expected was for him to basically pull you out of your reading nook in the galley. You could still feel the way his fingers had snaked around to grip the inside of your arm. Two seconds later, he was lifting you up and out of your spot with your book almost fumbling to the floor.

“Zoro-“

“Come on, Doc, you're coming with me.”

“You could’ve asked!” You huffed.

You were well aware that Zoro was still holding onto your arm. You were also well aware that he was much closer than usual making it hard for you to remember that you were mad at him. Big mad because you were just getting to the good part in your book.

“I am asking.”

Gods. He said it like a fact. His face was as smooth as stone and unblinking.

This was your Zoro. Master of having zero tact.

“Asking is with words, you ass.”

“Yeah, I don’t do that.”

“I’ve noticed.”

And with that, he took it as you conceded to go with him into town. In part, it was probably for the best. Zoro’s people skills were nonexistent and you and Sanji frequently had to apologize for him.

While the trip to town was enjoyable, what made it the best was the way Zoro changed around you. It wasn’t an astronomical change. He didn’t talk a whole lot more or say fewer things that reminded you he was an asshole (but he was your asshole so…) or be less broody. What he did was smile more.

They ranged from the small smirks he did when you were talking. Your animated hand movements with every other word as you weave a deep story for him or an excessive explanation on why using chopsticks for hair pins was an ingenious idea. You wondered if Zoro himself even realized he was doing it. But your all-time favorite?

It was when he smiled brighter than any star in the sky. His entire face lit up and chased back all the broody darkness he usually wore like armor. So, while you were upset to be torn from your book, you knew you would much rather be here in town with him.

When you arrived at the store Zoro immediately asked for samples. Two of everything. You thought he meant for himself, but felt complete terror widen your eyes when he slid one over to your place beside him at the bar. The only response you got was a raised brow and a smirk he quickly covered with the edge of his glass.

“What? Can steal a man’s glass from a dinner table but not an offered one?”

“Excuse me. I only did that because I knew you wanted it.”

“Hmmm. So, if I vocally say I don’t want you to drink with me, you’ll drink?”

You took a sniff of the amber liquid poured into the glass and felt your eyebrows curl up in retreat.

“This smells like regret,” you informed him with your eyes looking over the rim of the glass at his very striking figure.

This man was insane if he thought you were going to drink with him. You had no control over your mouth once you had one glass too many and you weren’t sure you could take responsibility for whatever your hands may, or may not, do. Especially since he was wearing another one of his gi’s, which suspiciously looked more untucked in the chest area than usual.

You were going to have to ask Nami if she might have spilled some secrets from a girls' night.

“There is no such thing as regret. Just a learning experience.”

“Yeah, no. That sounds like regret.”

He let out an annoyed sigh as he kicked back what was left inside the glass. The man didn’t even pull a face. He just casually swallowed it and placed the glass rim down first on the bar.

“That’s going to be a no.” He hummed to himself before he turned to look at you. “Look, Doc, I just want a second opinion on the booze. It’s for Nami’s special day or whatever.”

He had a point. You didn’t want Zoro picking something that was strong enough to melt the hair off a man’s chest, but you also didn’t want it growing any hair on anyone’s chest, either.

“Fair point.”

You took one last look at your glass before grabbing it and slamming back its contents. The regret was instant as it burned its way down your throat and boiled molten in your belly. You couldn’t keep from coughing as you tried to shoot daggers in his direction.

“You know what you learned there?” Zoro asked.

You were scared to ask but felt yourself coughing, “What?” regardless.

“You don’t like that one.”

Your hand lightly smacked him in the arm on a whim. You waited for him to turn and give you a death glare from the tap, but you were given a soft smile instead and was that- did Zoro just laugh?

He was already on his fifth glass and maybe that was why he was being so damn cute. Yeah, that was it. Zoro instantly became a lightweight.

You knocked back the second one in record time. This time, it didn’t burn as much as the first, but it still didn’t taste much better.

“I never understood the big deal about birthdays.” Zoro’s voice was deep in thought, his eyes roaming the inside of the empty glass of his sixth drink. “It’s just a day.”

A “Tsk,” pushed past your lips as you leaned over towards him. Your cheek rested on his arm as you looked up at him. It felt like it was taking forever for him to even glance down at you. You were about to poke him in his side to finally make him move when dark eyes fell down on your face.

Gods, you really needed to remember to breathe.

“It’s not just a day! It’s the day you were born. It’s not just to celebrate but to be grateful that you’re here. I’m grateful you’re here.”

You watched his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat. The way his eyes flashed with something you weren’t used to seeing made a question form on your tongue but before you could ask it, Zoro looked away and back at the table. His hand wrapped around a new glass and quickly emptied its contents.

“Come on, we still have a lot of booze to get through.”

It wasn’t until the two of you were squeezed into a booth, all of the booze gone, and your head resting on his shoulder, with Zoro’s head resting on yours, that he mentioned it again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated my birthday before,” he hummed. His fingers were playing with the hem of the pocket on your cargo pants. “But if I did. I want it to be with you.”

It felt silly that just a few words could make your heart race like it did. It was the booze, you’d reminded yourself. You’d both drunk enough to tranquilize a sea beast. Zoro would never just mumble things like this to you, resting his head on yours like he did.

That day Zoro didn’t say more than that and you didn’t press him. Not that you could, anyways. You couldn’t even remember the walk back to the Merry. The night of Nami’s birthday, in the middle of the fireworks, you’d both been sitting on the deck. Your eyes cast up to the explosion of color that painted the sky.

“November.”

“What?”

A finger stroked the neck of the bottle he’d been nursing. His wrist found a comfortable spot on his knee as he leaned back on his palm. It was enough to look natural - enough to not bring attention to the fact this position easily put him shoulder-to-shoulder beside you.

“My birthday it’s…it’s in November. If you are curious.”

July came and went. August and September. You practically counted each day in each month and hated how it seemed to go so fast, but not fast enough. You’d planned and had every idea of how you were going to give him one of the best birthdays ever.

You’d already bought his favorite whiskey and gave it a cute little bow. You’d even asked Sanji to show you how to make a cake. You practiced tirelessly with Sanji watching you every step of the way. So, you couldn’t understand how or why your cake looked like a deflated balloon.

“Did you overbeat the flour?”

Sanji was leaning back against the counter. A hand covering his mouth because you knew he was either smiling or frowning or a mixture of both. The towel he’d used to clean up your earlier spill rested over his shoulder.

“I don’t know,” you groaned into your hands.

“It’s alright. It’s not the time to panic-“

“It is the perfect time to panic! I don’t have time to try and redo the cake, Sanji.”

The day was almost over. Zoro had spent the majority of it out with Luffy. You’d been waiting for them both to come back and when they did, it was night. You weren’t sure how many hours were left in the day for you to do this, but you knew you didn’t have a lot of time left.

“Can you hand me a cookie cutter?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna improvise.”

You used the cookie cutter to find the best part of the cake and cut out a piece. You slammed on maybe too much frosting and quickly went and grabbed your present from your room. It might have been a good idea to change since you were practically wearing most of the cake ingredients on your clothes.

It was too late to change anything. You were already in front of his door and with the tip of your boot knocked as gently as you could. You could hear the slightest sounds of Zoro moving around inside—a groan and what sounded like a few choice words grumbled right after.

You weren’t ready for what greeted you.

Zoro swung open the door and all your brain functions ceased. He was shirtless. The scars Mihawk had given him were fully on display along with every ridiculous muscle definition known to man. His hair was haphazard from sleep, eyes still struggling to focus, with pants hung low at his hips. You weren’t sure if you should be thankful or happy. One thing was for sure. You almost dropped your cake.

“Oh, hey Doc. What’s up?”

Fuck. Was his voice always so unnecessarily rich like this when he woke up? You weren’t sure why, but you panicked and practically shoved the items towards his face.

“Surprise!”

He looked from your would-be birthday cake and the bottle of whiskey with a bow and back to you.

“What is this for?”

“Your birthday, silly.”

That seemed to wake him up and not in a good way. He quickly reached out and pulled you inside. He shut the door behind you and if it weren’t for the bit of moonlight that showed through his window, you both would’ve been consumed by darkness.

Zoro moved forward and you remembered you were in a dimly lit room with him. With a tight smile on your face, you lifted the cake and repeated, “Surprise!”

“You said that already.”

“True but this time it didn’t result in you pulling me anywhere. I brought matches too so you could blow out the candle on your cake.”

Zoro took one look at your cake and all that grumpy energy he held from being woken up disappeared. It was replaced with a soft grin as he looked from the cake to you.

“Why is it in the shape of a Christmas tree?”

“Let's not focus on the details. Oh, and this is for you too!”

Yes, you were nervous. Yes, this was the first time you’d been inside his room like this, but everything was fine. It was fine. So, there wasn’t any real reason why you almost slammed the bottle into his chest. Zoro didn’t seem to mind the small impact as his eyes landed on the label.

“It’s my favorite one.”

“I know. It took me a while to find it. Come on. Come sit.”

You moved to sit on the edge of his bed. Your fingers went to dig the matchbox out of your pocket, and as soon as you got it out, strike one to light up the candle. You carefully lifted the plate back up in your hands as Zoro sat down beside you. The soft glow of the candle made all the hardness of his jaw and cheeks appear softer and the plushness of his lips more inviting. Everything about Zoro appeared different in the soft illumination of the candle and you wished you could draw it to memory.

A smile that was big and genuine lifted the corners of your mouth. Your hands held up the plate at the best angle between you as you softly said, “Happy Birthday, Zoro. Make a wish.”

Zoro tried to shake away the smirk that started to form before he leaned forward and blew out his candle. You turned to place the plate on the barrel beside the bed.

“Are you going to ask me what I wished for?”

You froze in place. Your heart suddenly beat wildly against your chest as you struggled to swallow past your racing pulse. You hoped when you turned back around to face him you didn’t look terrified.

“It’s usually bad luck to ask,” you replied.

“Ask.”

“What did you wish for, Zoro?”

“You.”

You weren’t prepared for Zoro to close the last few inches between you. For his hand to weave his fingers into your hair while his other gripped your waist. Those last few moments of sanity you had before he pressed his lips against yours evaporated the minute he touched you.

Maybe you’d been his true present all along.

-----------

As always, thank you for reading. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated.

__________

#roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #opla zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x oc #one piece #one piece live action #op

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thefoxtherapist · 3 months

Note

Omg omg omg!

Imagine Jiyan with a reader who often gets hurt and always goes to Jiyan about it but Jiyan at some point realizes reader is just coming back for attention when they enter up running to him about the smallest injuries!

This is soo cute aw-

I actually wrote something similar to this for an oc (not wuwa related) because I love this concept sm bless this request tysm<3

Jiyan’s head snapped up, golden eyes widening.

He just got it.

He brought a clawed hand to his head, sighing so deep his bangs blew up somewhat from the extra aero. Maybe he was a tad dense, relationships weren’t exactly his.. The man’s eyebrows furrowed. Forte. He knew the Rover would find his joke funny at least.

“Jiyan! They’re hurt again and told me to come get you!”

Jiyan dropped his hand from his face, straightening out with a soft breath. “I’m on my way. Could you take this to Zhan for me?” He held a folder in his free hand, wiggling it somewhat to the soldier.

“Sure thing!”

And with his duties dealt with, Jiyan could focus on the matter at hand. You hated the medical bay, often finding him in his office or room. But this time he found you in your room, knocking on the doorway of the open door before he entered. You sat up in your bed, sheepish smile on your face as he looked at you.

“Diamondclaws again?”

“No!” You replied as if it were an insult rather than a true fact. Diamondclaws hated you. “Aero predator this time.” You beamed proudly, because you won. Even though you took a nasty hit to the side in doing so.

Jiyan shook his head as he approached, crouching down beside your bed to inspect the injury. You moved closer so he could get a better look at it. It wasn’t really anything bad, the weapon barely touched you, but it definitely looked worse than it was.

He waved his hand, the blood flicking to the side with a small gust of aero. Really he should take the time to properly clean it but this entertained him more. “At least you don’t need stitches again.” Jiyan commented as he opened the small medical kit he’d picked up on the way over to you.

You made a face. The stitches sucked.

Jiyan wiped away the rest of the blood with one of the provided clothes, careful so as to not irritate your skin further. “Chenxu is a fine medic.” The General commented as he dropped the cloth on the ground to grab the bandages.

“She scares me.”

He exhaled a small laugh, holding the bandages a few inches up to your wound before wrapping them around your torso carefully. He then used the inches he’d left free to help pin the bandages down with a pin.

“And I don’t?”

You shrugged, immediately wincing.

It wasn’t like you had known him three years prior, when he was the medic. Before he rose to his position of authority. You’d only ever known him as the General. Then, you had never been afraid to call him by his name. Another soldier, like everybody else.

“And you’re sure you coming to me for a papercut of all things last week was nothing?”

“I told you I’m afraid of blood!”

Jiyan raised an eyebrow at you, he went from crouching to standing beside your bed. His gaze made you look away, rubbing your neck awkwardly.

“You’re a soldier.”

“And?”

He brought his hand down, ruffling your hair.

“If you wanted to go on a date, you could just ask.”

The sound that escaped you was far too embarrassing, your cheeks warming quickly.

Maybe it took him two months to figure it out. But he had figured it out! And Jiyan was not going to let his revelation go to waste.

“Rest up.” Your name left his tongue with a certain fondness and you struggled to find a reply. Unable to do so before he left you alone in your room.

Once safe from your sight he hid his face in his hand, cheeks red, his blush extended to his ears. Maybe he’d been too bold? No surely not, you didn’t react negatively, merely.. Flustered? He was also flustered.

“General Jiyan!”

“Not now.”

“O-Okay sir!”

He took a deep breath, willing his blush away. But it would not leave.

Jiyan would follow up another day.

#wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #jiyan x reader #jiyan wuwa #wuthering waves #wuwa #wuwa imagines #wuwa x you #wuthering waves imagine #wuwa jiyan #jiyan imagine #༻Stygian #༻Tenebris #gn!reader

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ckret2 · 3 months

Text

Chapter 58 of human Bill Cipher in a quantum uncertainty state between being and not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner:

Everything you've wondered about how Bill survived his execution.

Let's rewind a couple of days.

####

Friday, 11:00 p.m.

"Welp," Mabel said, "I've got the rest of summer to try to get the whole story out of him! Goodnight, Dipper!"

Dipper's stomach flipped with guilt. "Yeah." The rest of summer. Mabel left for Portland in the morning. "Goodnight."

He lay down, pulled his sheet back up, and stared at the ceiling.

####

Friday, 11:04 p.m.

It took less than five minutes before the guilt won.

Yeah, no, nope, nuh-uh, Dipper couldn't do this. Not to his sister. He rolled over and hissed, "Psss, hey. Mabel."

"Hm?"

"Listen," Dipper said. "I hate Bill, okay, but I care about you, and also I think Bill might be part of a prophecy, so, because of that—I... There's something I need to tell you."

####

11:15 p.m.

Bill hadn't even had time to start dreaming before something dragged his mind back into the waking world.

There were white points of light as he passed through the hazy twilight of half-sleep. Those lights were his eyes. Lately, every time he started to wake up, he'd been seeing his eyes in the distance.

This time, there was one right in front of him, so bright it almost blinded him. He thought he could see something in the light.

He touched it.

And then he woke up, laying on his cushion bed as usual, watching as Mabel slid out of her room, crept near, and knelt beside him. She shook his shoulder. "Hey, Bill. Wake up."

And then he woke up—which was strange, considering he'd just done that—and stared at the dark inside of his hoodie.

He pushed back his hood. There was Mabel, crouched next to him, just like he'd "dreamed." Huh. Well done, Cipher, it seems you've just learned a new trick.

He tamped down his excitement; he could figure out what to do with this trick later. For now, he had a higher priority. "'Sup, kid?" He pushed himself up on an elbow, roughly flipping his hair out of his hood so it wouldn't keep tickling and choking around his neck. "It's the middle of the night." He yawned and mumbled, "Not that it makes a difference to me, but..."

"Shhh! We've gotta stay quiet," Mabel whispered. "I need to get you out of here. They're gonna kill you."

He sat bolt upright. "All right," he said. "You have my attention."

####

Dipper refused to say how, but according to him they'd synthesized just enough fuel for one shot with their fancy quantum whatever gun, and they couldn't make any more. They planned to execute Bill once Mabel was gone.

Mabel could just open a door for Bill and let him escape in the middle of the night—but that had dangers of its own. Bill would have to travel to a hiding place on foot—and his shoes were crap for hiking—his feet were also crap for hiking—and he'd only have until the adults started waking up and realized he was gone. Even if he kept moving all night, the adults would probably be able to cover the same amount of ground in a couple of hours, he'd probably inadvertently leave a trail a mile wide, and the forest's local supernatural population would definitely snitch if one of the Stans asked if they'd seen anything.

Plus, it wouldn't be very hard for the adults to figure out that Dipper had cracked and Mabel had helped Bill escape, and then everyone was in hot water.

They needed a way to cover Bill's escape to make it harder for the adults to pick up his trail, to give him as much time as possible to get some distance from the shack, and to delay Mabel getting in trouble. ("And Dipper," Mabel said. "Sure," Bill said unenthusiastically.)

But if they could, it would be best if they found a way to ensure the adults never even thought to look for Bill, Mabel never got in trouble at all, and the Quantum Destabilizer could never be fired again.

It was possible, Bill said. It wasn't guaranteed, but it was possible. They had a good chance. A very good chance. In fact, never mind, he'd decided it was guaranteed, they'd pull this off easily.

All they had to do was fake his death.

He knew a way.

####

11:45 p.m.

Dipper was stirred out of a drowsy near-sleep by the door creaking open and a couple sets of footsteps shuffling in. He rolled over and squinted across the room.

Mabel was quietly collecting craft supplies—pens, papers, her small starter sewing kit she used for repairs. Bill climbed into the loft to grab some musty pillows and blankets that had been stored for years in a cardboard box.

"Mabel?" Dipper mumbled.

Mabel put a finger over her lips. "Hey Dipper," she whispered. "You can go back to sleep, we'll be up in the loft."

"Doing what?"

"Scheme-y stuff. Don't worry about it." She flung her arms around Dipper, whispered, "Thank you," and ran across the room to grab her backpack and the height-altering flashlight.

Dipper glanced toward the loft. Bill was waiting at the top of the ladder, a dark vaguely-triangular silhouette, only his eyes visible as they reflected the dim light like a cat's. Dipper had had more nightmares than he could remember about waking to find Bill hovering in the dark above him.

Bill's gaze flicked from watching Mabel to staring at Dipper. They made eye contact. Bill didn't say anything.

Then Mabel climbed up the ladder, supply-stuffed backpack slung over her shoulders. Bill gave Dipper one last silent look, then turned away to follow Mabel to the back of the loft.

Dipper rolled over and tried to fall back asleep.

####

The plan was to create a dummy that looked like Bill to take the Quantum Destabilizer's shot in his place, while the real Bill got as far from the shack as the weirdness barrier around town would allow.

Bill told Mabel that the dummy didn't need to be complicated: he had an enchantment that could make it completely convincing. All he had to do was write out a spell and leave the paper over the dummy, and anyone who looked at it would be convinced it was really him in the flesh.

Similarly, sneaking Bill out of the shack didn't need to be complicated. They could shrink Bill down and stick him in Mabel's backpack, and all she'd have to do was come up with an excuse to get out of the car and set him free before they left town.

The hard part would be the choreography of the whole thing. They needed Bill to put in an appearance that morning, to prove it really was him walking around; and then go somewhere that Mabel could hide him away without anybody noticing; and then ensure that nobody would see the Bill dummy until they were safely out of range, just in case. "The enchantment's pretty good," Bill said, "but the more people see it and the longer they get to look at it, the less potent it gets. And all it'll do is make the dummy look like me—it won't be able to walk and talk. It's best if the only person who gets a good look at it is my executioner."

The word executioner made Mabel shudder. It would probably be Ford, wouldn't it? She knew he thought he was doing the right thing. She knew it wasn't the first time he'd tried to destroy Bill. She knew she'd been fine with it last summer. She even knew that Bill would be okay. But all the same, she wasn't sure how she'd look at Ford the same way.

Once they had the dummy set up somewhere away from the family's prying eyes, they had to discourage everyone from trying to approach "Bill" until they were ready to kill him. And, ideally—just in case the executioner tried to speak to Bill or the enchantment otherwise failed—they should stage it all in a way so that no one would think Mabel had been involved in the escape plan.

The solution was obvious.

"I live to cause drama for no reason," Bill said. "I upset mortals recreationally. Can you��act?"

"Can I act? Pshhh!" Mabel flipped a hand dismissively. "Maybe you were too busy badly impersonating my brother to watch, but last year I kind of staged an entire puppet show performing and singing as every character."

So it was a plan: they would stage a fight.

They were sitting in the very back of the attic loft, behind stacks of forgotten boxes and abandoned junk, beneath the meager light of the loft's window. Bill didn't need the light. He had a pen and paper and was writing out his enchantment's spell while they talked, long lines of inscrutable text. It was so dark that Mabel couldn't even see what language he was writing in, but that was fine; Bill had said that if she read his spell—if anyone read it—it would break the enchantment.

"Whoops," Bill said, "yeah, afraid I missed your whole show! I was too busy backstage trying to avoid your friends and looking for a way onto the catwalk."

Mabel shook her head in disapproval. "You would have liked it. There were live pyrotechnics and lasers and fog machines and a giant tentacle monster war and seventy-four songs and puppets!"

"I'll admit, sounds like a killer show. How about gore?"

"There was a whole song about my love interest getting his legs chewed off in the war," Mabel said. "The sock puppets don't have legs, but everyone knows your own imagination is a lot scarier than anything you actually see."

This kid could have a brilliant artistic career as a serial killer. "That's familiar. Is this war based on that 'cats versus the giant octopus' dream you keep having?"

"Yeah, and you'd have known that if you'd actually watched the opera! Too bad you missed the whole thing," Mabel said. "I guess you were just too busy being evil to appreciate the simple joys of a good, clean, non-villainous puppet show."

"Oh no, I can't believe my actions have consequences," Bill said flatly. "What would I ever have done if you hadn't enlightened me."

"Died, probably."

Bill glared.

"You know! Like you did last summer? As a consequence of your—"

"You shush."

Bill shoved Mabel away when she started to laugh, and held the enchantment up between their faces so he didn't have to look at her. He read his work over, then folded the paper in half and half again. "Hey, maybe you can put on an encore presentation sometime." Bill carefully inscribed four symbols in a square on the folded paper. "I promise I'll laugh at the jokes and fake cry at the sad parts."

Mabel shuddered. "No way. I'm never touching that show again. Too many bad memories."

"Awww, how come?"

Mabel stared at Bill.

Bill said, "Oh, right."

"Yeah," Mabel said coldly. "Thanks."

Bill shrank back. He leaned against a cardboard box, not sure where to look, drumming his fingers self consciously on the floorboards. Trying to figure out the right thing to say to make it better.

"Hey," he said. "If you ever change your mind about reviving the show... can I play the reverend again?" He grinned.

Mabel wadded up a paper and chucked it at Bill's face.

####

They agreed that scripting out every bit of the argument would make it sound too fakey; and anyway they were going to do this on no sleep and with no time to practice, if one of them forgot a line mid-argument it would ruin their entire plan. Bill said he was great at improvisational acting (which Mabel suspected was his way of trying to make "great at lying on the spot" sound good), and Mabel was a pro at getting into character for pretend games, so this should be easy. They just needed to choose a few topics they could realistically argue about.

So they started making a list of things that would totally infuriate each other.

"I can't think of anything that would make me furious," Bill said. "Outside of something serious like a murder attempt, anyway. I'm an even-tempered triangle! I don't sweat the small things!"

"You got sooo mad when I forgot to tell you about my Summerween plans."

Bill grimaced. "Right," he muttered. "That."

Teasingly, Mabel asked, "Are you still grumpy I made plans?"

"I was not grumpy you made plans. I wasn't grumpy at all! I just would have appreciated if I'd known sooner, I planned my whole evening assuming I'd have somebody around to open doors—"

He saw Mabel's increasingly amused smirk, stopped himself, held up a hand, and said, "I'll save it for tomorrow morning."

Mabel wrote down the idea beneath four ideas she'd already scratched out. She'd temporarily removed the crystal from the height-altering flashlight so she could illuminate her paper while she wrote. "The concert will definitely come up tomorrow morning! And you can act like that's the first time you heard about it."

"Sure, no problem. We haven't talked about the concert where your uncles could overhear, have we?"

"I don't think so."

"Then that's perfect. I can pretend to be mad you didn't tell me." Bill forced a smile. "All right, your turn." He rested his elbow on his knee and his cheek on his fist. "I realize that, apart from the unfortunate meat suit, I'm the most flawless person you've ever seen—" he ignored Mabel's raspberry, "—but for the sake of argument, just imagine something you might get mad at me for."

"Um... insulting Dipper?"

"Now that sounds fun. But no, can't risk it, he'd be too tempted to jump into the argument," Bill said. "Besides, what if I said something you agreed with?"

"What! Why would I agree if you insulted my brother?"

"He smells like a sweaty ferret and when he has a crush he turns into a creepy little stalker."

Mabel laughed. "Yeah, he does. Okay, um..." She went silent for a moment, tapping the butt of her marker on the paper.

She stopped tapping; and then quietly said, "I'd be so mad if I thought you were trying to keep me from hanging out with my friends."

"Oh, I could do that easily." Bill reviewed his wording, decided a human could take that as a threat, and quickly amended himself, "Could pretend that I'm trying to do that easily. You know I'd never, but hey, the adults here are ready to believe the worst about me—"

"You promise?"

"Sure I promise!" He processed the question after he'd already answered it. "Hold on—you think I'm the kind of person who would do that?" He was, but he didn't want her to see him that way.

She shrugged, looking down at her idea list again. "You've done it to other people."

"Name one!"

"Grunkle Ford and Old Man McGucket."

Oh, of course. That snitch of a backstabbing ungrateful ex-student, bane of Bill's entire miserable postmortem existence. Had to find as many ways as possible to make Bill look bad, didn't he. "All I did was tell Stanford that hick was a coward and a flake. I didn't make him do anything! If he agreed with me, that's on him." Bill crossed his arms irritably. "And Specs was a coward and a flake. Is it a crime to be right?"

"But you ruined their friendship on purpose, didn't you."

Bill tried to find a graceful way to wriggle around the direct accusation that excused his actions without contradicting whatever she might already know. "Did not," he said.

Mabel frowned at him.

Bill averted his gaze. "So! That's great. Trying to keep you away from your friends. Something I've never done to you but would be a really good thing to fight about. What else."

Mabel sighed and looked over her list again. She wrote something, scratched it out; started another line and scribbled it out; and then said in exasperation, "Your morals are terrible."

Bill had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep his sudden laugh from waking Dipper. "You've got too many morals, it's your biggest character flaw. How many does one person really need, two or three? That's an easy topic, arguments about morality can drag out for hours!"

"We probably only need to fight for like ten minutes, right?"

"Sure. List done! That's everything we need."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. She read over the list, glanced at the flashlight she was reading with, and said, "I should get extra batteries. It'd be the worst if we got you way out of the shack and then the batteries died while you were still small."

Bill wasn't sure about that. Being so tall for weeks on end felt awkward and wrong. His limbs were always in the way. He bumped into things he should have been able to slide between. The more time he spent in this body, the more he wanted to spend a month at the size and thickness of a greeting card. He joked, "Hey, I don't know; it'd be easier to hide..."

"Yeah, and easier to get squarshed." Mabel turned off the flashlight and picked up her backpack. "I'm getting batteries."

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill picked up her list to see what topics they'd found to argue about so far:

Weirdmaged

Making me think you were Blendin to get the

Kitten fists meow meow

Almost killing me

Not sharing Summerween plans

Trying to make me kill myself by

Ruining Glove Story

Insulting Dipper

Insulting Waddles??? (too lovable!)

Weirdm

Mabeland Isolating me from everyone

Spray painting your eyeball

Weir YOU'RE TOO EVIL!!

I'M TOO NICE!!! ♡

He reread the list, feeling his guts writhe and twist involuntarily.

Yeah. Those were all the things he'd decided not to bring up, too.

At least they were in agreement on what they didn't want to talk about. That was true friendship, right? Friendship didn't mean never hurting each other; it meant mutually agreeing never to talk about it again.

He read the list a third time.

####

A spare pair of Bill's black leggings and a pair of black socks would serve as half of the decoy body, stuffed with old bedsheets and half a pillow that Mabel had sized up with the flashlight so it was closer to Bill's actual torso size. For the time being, the top half of the decoy was constructed out of a flannel shirt; Bill would have to put in an appearance downstairs in his hoodie, and then they could quickly go upstairs and put it on the decoy to complete the look.

He'd miss that hoodie almost as much as he missed his own face. But it was a small price to pay for his life.

"I don't know," Mabel whispered, inspecting the dummy with the flashlight from near the edge of the loft. "It doesn't look super convincing. It's kind of lumpy all wrong." She knelt by it and tried to poke the fake thigh into a slightly more convincing shape.

"Don't worry about it," Bill whispered, waving the folded paper with the secret spell written inside. "The enchantment will hide all that. As long as the dummy looks mostly human at a glance, no one will notice anything."

Mabel gave it one last worried look, but nodded and turned off the flashlight.

####

Mabel crept out of the office and eased the door shut. "Got it," she whispered, holding up a faded black umbrella. "Are you sure you don't want a better umbrella, though? Some of the spikes are broken and I think it's supposed to rain today."

"The other humans will be less likely to notice a broken umbrella going missing," Bill said. "Anyway, this one saved my life once. I'll take it."

"Then that's the last supply we needed to pack," Mabel said, sighing in relief. "It's still a couple hours until morning. Should we get some sleep?"

Bill considered it, and shook his head. "No. Better not."

Sleep scared him. Sure, he endured it when he had to—he had no choice—and, under the circumstances, although it was a close call, he grudgingly preferred sleeping to dying of sleep deprivation; but he kept it at bay as long as he could, sleeping irregularly, infrequently, and briefly. Knowing it was necessary didn't make the fear go away.

It was the helplessness of the whole thing—knowing that, once his mind had shut off, anything could happen around him, anything could happen to his body—and not only was he ignorant and defenseless, but he was also powerless to wake himself up any sooner than his tyrannical circadian rhythm dictated. He lacked even the power to think about waking.

If Mabel hadn't woken him tonight, he might have slept through his own death.

He continued, "What if we sleep in and don't have time for the fight? I'd be doomed." Bill didn't even have the luxury of an alarm clock.

"Oh—good point," Mabel said. "So we should probably do something to keep us awake."

"Right," Bill said, wracking his exhausted brain for an idea. "Overdose on caffeine?"

Mabel was quiet for a moment. "If this works, it might be a long time before we see each other again," she said. "You'll probably have to keep hiding until Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan leave town in the fall. And by then summer will be over, and I'll be back in California..."

She was right. If they pulled off this plan, he might never see Mabel again. It wouldn't exactly be safe to ring up the Mystery Shack. Sure, sooner or later he'd find a way to restart Weirdmageddon, and then he could invite her into his gang... And she'd join, wouldn't she? Of course she would. He just needed a chance to talk to her about it away from the closed-minded killjoys in her family that were holding her back. But until then...

She groped through the dark to grab at Bill's sleeve. "Dance party? While we still can?"

"Sure, star girl." Where had this lump in his throat come from? "Sounds fun. Dance party."

####

5:30 a.m.

It was the first time Bill had danced since his death.

All Mabel had to offer was Sev'ral Times, upbeat kid's show soundtracks, unlistenable synthesized junk, and whatever was playing before dawn on the radio stations that could reach Gravity Falls; the stained yellow shag carpet and homely plaid wallpaper made him miss the dark smoky rooms and strobing multicolor lights of a real club; he couldn't risk drinking this early in the morning if he wanted to have a head clear enough for escape; and he never forgot that, outside of the living room, the halls were empty and silent.

But he'd danced to music that made his eye bleed and his memories howl and he'd danced to no music at all; he'd danced in millions of crummy makeshift dance halls and night clubs and dive bars that had tumbled into or been cobbled together in the Nightmare Realm; he'd danced when he was so brutally sober that time in all its sharp cruel clarity seemed to have frozen to turn a spotlight on him; he'd danced with his worst enemies and he'd danced all alone; and there wasn't any force on this planet that would stop him from dancing now.

After spending four songs in a row making fun of Bill for attempting to figure out how to puppet a human body into some approximation of a dance, Mabel asked, "What were dances like on Flatworld?" It made Bill internally wince each time he heard it called that.

But he welcomed the opportunity for a break; he leaned back to half sit against the living room table, breathing heavily, arms trembling. "Dif—difficult question." He had to pause to catch his breath. His lungs and muscles couldn't keep up with him; this body was too hard to keep moving, so inefficient, 90% of the fuel that went into it was wasted uselessly. It was already beginning to atrophy in the few short weeks he'd had it, muscles withering from days stuck indoors with nothing to do but sit and stare out the window. He'd been made of pure energy for so long that maintaining all the little systems to keep a flesh body energized—food, water, sleep, exercise, not too much exercise, oxygen—felt like a Sisyphean torture. "S'like asking—'what're human dances like'? There's a—lot of variety."

"You know what I mean!" Mabel was still half dancing, bouncing from foot to foot. Bill wanted that kind of energy. "How do you dance?"

Bill shut his eyes, seeing colors flash behind his eyes—gyroscopic, kaleidoscopic, shapes spinning and whirling in spirals. "I'd show you, but there's not enough room in here for me to do a cartwheel."

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being serious! Plus I can't float. It wouldn't look right in a human body." It would look better if he cut his silhouette out of a piece of paper, taped it over a flashlight, and projected the shape onto the wall. "Tell you what—as soon as I'm back in my real body, I'll show you how I dance, all right?"

"Come on, Bill! You're just trying to wiggle out of—"

"Mabel," Bill said, "I can't do those dances in this body."

Mabel's teasing smile faded. "Really?"

"Unless you know a way to dislocate my shoulder so I can slide my entire arm from one hip over my head and down to the other."

"Ew." Mabel grimaced.

"It looks cooler on a triangle." Bill smiled wanly. "But hey, I spent all day yesterday teaching you everything I know—you can teach me something. I haven't used a human body in thirty years! What dances are popular these days, I haven't learned anything new since the moonwalk."

Mabel's eyes widened. "You know how to moonwalk?"

"Sure! It's easy. I figured it out in Stanford's body."

"I don't believe you. Prove it."

Bill pushed off the table. "Oh, yeah? Are you ready to look stupid?" He effortlessly glided backwards across the floorboards. He pointed at Mabel's gaping face as he passed. "What do you think of that?"

"Show me how to do that and I'll teach you every dance I know."

Bill grinned. He loved deals that were unfairly biased in his favor, and he loved it more when he didn't even have to propose them himself. "You've got yourself a deal, Shooting Star." It would keep them occupied for the next hour.

####

6:32 a.m.

About fifteen minutes ago, Bill had warned Mabel that he'd just glimpsed the beforeimage of Ford crossing the living room in the future; and then they'd kept partying, wanting to get in every last second of joy they could before he arrived in the present.

But once Ford was no longer approaching but actually there, seeing his face was like a bullet to the head. Bill had been having so much fun, for a few minutes he'd almost forgotten that today was execution day.

And it wouldn't be execution day if he had anything to say about it.

Bill demanded, "What's with the sour face?" (Ford's eyes were so dull, his expression so heavy; Bill had never seen him wear that look, not even any of the previous times he'd tried to murder Bill.) "Hey, am I not allowed to dance now?" He squeezed Mabel's hands tighter.

Ford just gave a tiny shake to his head and hurried past them, not even deigning to look at Bill, as though he were telling himself he'd only imagined he'd heard the voice of a ghost.

I know what you're up to, Bill thought at top volume silently in his head. But you won't do it. You won't do it.

He met Mabel's gaze. She gave him a tiny nod. Party was over. Time to get to work.

####

6:36 a.m.

Over the course of the night, Dipper had been woken twice by bursts of quickly-hushed laughter; three times by random bumps and thuds; once by Bill falling off the loft and Mabel's squeal of alarm; and several times by Mabel waking Dipper to ask if it was okay if she gave Bill Dipper's old shoes (so Bill could finally walk in the woods properly), his sleeping bag (so Bill didn't have to sleep on hard rocks under a single sad Pony Heist bedsheet), his "Edible Plants of Oregon's Blue Mountains" booklet (self-explanatory), and several other things he also said "yes" to without hearing properly. It had better be one heck of a prophecy that Bill was involved in, because Dipper was this close to just murdering Bill himself.

When Dipper went downstairs, he couldn't even look at Mabel and Bill—terrified something in his gaze would give the whole conspiracy away. He didn't even know what they were planning. Was dancing in the living room part of it? Was it some distraction? He'd hoped Bill would already be gone by now.

He couldn't meet Ford's eyes either, for the guilt of betraying his trust. He didn't deserve these scrambled eggs.

He couldn't meet anyone's gaze.

He really, really hoped Mabel and Bill had a plan. He hoped it was a good plan. Because whatever the heck they were up to—Dipper was afraid it was on him to prevent Ford and Stan from intervening too soon and finding out.

####

6:49 a.m.

After they'd escaped the kitchen, Bill glanced over his shoulder toward the stairs before Mabel got the attic door closed. "Do you think Ford noticed something?"

Mabel was already running across the room, retrieving her phone charger and phone to stuff in her backpack and pocket, making sure she'd packed everything she needed for her trip—everything except for Bill. "I wasn't looking. Did he?"

"I don't know." Bill flashed one last worried look at the door; but he couldn't afford to slow down, he had a dummy to finish. He hurried up the ladder, took off his hoodie, pulled on a tank top, tried to fish his pre-written enchantment out of his pocket in the same movement, and fumbled and dropped the paper over the edge of the loft.

Mabel had been checking her bag for the concert tickets when a paper fluttered down on her hair. She instinctively grabbed it and unfolded it before she registered the four sigils written on the outside and realized this was the enchantment Bill had said would stop working if anyone read it. She'd reflexively read the first few lines before she could stop herself. She froze. Her gaze jerked up to Bill, eyes wide.

Bill dropped down the ladder, snatched the paper out of her hand so quickly it almost tore, and immediately climbed back up. "I told you not to look." He carefully refolded it.

"Is that...?"

"It'll work," Bill hissed, with an insistence that said he wasn't sure it would work at all.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" He held up the dummy's pillow torso and yanked the hoodie on top of it.

When Mabel didn't say anything, Bill sighed. "Even if it doesn't—this only needs to work until we're on the road. They can't stop us then."

"Bill—"

He shakily inhaled, and then he raised his voice loud enough he'd be heard downstairs. "What do you need to spend all that time around those two brats for, anyway?! What, am I not good enough company for you?!"

They didn't have time to adjust the plan. They were in the middle of it, right now, and the guys expected to hear an argument. Mabel swallowed hard and raised her voice as well. "Not when you're acting like this, you aren't! You're a bigger brat than—than both of—and my friends aren't brats!"

Bill bit his lip, brows drawn in pain, eye squeezed shut, trying not to laugh.

Mabel chucked a sock at him, don't you dare. "You can't say I can't hang out with my friends, that's stupid!"

"I never said you can't!" Bill held the folded paper a foot above the completed dummy, the square of symbols face up, and tapped it twice so it hovered in place when he let go. "Hang out with your stupid friends, I don't care! But two whole days is ridiculous—!"

####

7:02 a.m.

"I THOUGHT you were my FRIEND!"

All three eavesdroppers cringed—Dipper hardest of all. His heart was hammering out of his chest and his t-shirt was at least 50% sweat by volume. Was this part of the plan? It sounded like an insane plan. This couldn't be the plan. It had to be the plan. He'd already prevented Ford from intervening, what if they were really fighting? But what if this really was the plan?

"WELL! If you're gonna act like this just because I wondered what you're up to, maybe NOT! What kind of fun are you good for, you wouldn't even be into burning a house down!"

Dipper messed up. He'd actually ruined their friendship right before Bill was about to die and Mabel would be miserableand it was all his fault. This fight was real. They were furious. They hated each other—

####

7:03 a.m.

"OH YEAH, WELL—" Mabel faltered as she struggled to think of a fitting retort. "YOU WOULDN'T EVEN BE INTO—into—n-NOT BURNING A HOUSE DOWN!" She cringed at herself, struggling not to laugh.

Bill had been fighting the urge to laugh so hard that his face was turning red. "OHHH WOW, GREAT COMEBACK."

Mabel's voice went shrill with suppressed hysterics. "SHUT UP!" Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she socked Bill's arm. If he made her lose it when everyone was outside listening—

The door opened. "Hey—!"

They both rounded on Stan. "STAY OUT OF IT!" Mabel snatched up a discarded sweater. Stan shut the door just before the sweater hit it.

Mabel quietly wheezed, "Do you think he saw anything?"

"No, n—" Bill had to clap both hands over his mouth and nose to keep silent. Mabel wrapped her arms around him and smushed her face against his chest to muffle herself. They stood there, shaking, until the hysterics passed.

The stress was getting to them.

####

7:06 a.m.

"Fine!!" Mabel lifted the height-altering flashlight. "Then you can just stay here all weekend!"

Bill had on his backpack (Dipper had "agreed" Bill could take his) and was clutching his umbrella. He gave her a thumbs up; ready. "FINE!"

"FINE!" Mabel turned on the flashlight. When Bill was around four inches tall, she turned it off, knelt down, and offered her hand for him to climb on. She stuffed the flashlight in her backpack, carefully set Bill in a sweater nest (how had Gideon flung her and Dipper in a jar so cavalierly? she was terrified of snapping Bill's bones like toothpicks), zipped the backpack and gingerly put it on; and then Mabel was storming out of the room.

"Leave him in there," Mabel snapped, pointing at the door. She was shaking with fear. "He's in TIME OUT."

Dipper glanced nervously at the door, "Um..." He looked so worried. She hadn't had a chance to explain the plan to him.

Mabel glared into his eyes. She summoned up all her mostly placebic Twin Empathy Powers to beam her thoughts into Dipper's brain. Don't. Please don't. If you say anything you'll ruin it.

He raised his hands. "Okay, fine."

Mabel rushed past him to the stairs, trying to escape as fast as possible without jostling her backpack.

####

7:08 a.m.

Buckled into Mrs. Grendinator's car, voice shaking, Mabel said, "Can we just go? Please?" Now, before someone ran out of the shack and waved them down to demand Mabel explain where Bill had gone. Her hands were trembling in fear, clutched protectively around her backpack with its secret cargo. One of her best friends was in there. She couldn't let anything happen to him.

Mrs. Grendinator nodded. "Of course."

As they pulled around the Mystery Shack and toward the road, Mabel glanced toward the attic bedroom window, afraid the adults might have already gone in and discovered their trick; but no one looked back.

Now all she could do was hope the paper Bill had left floating over the dummy would do its job.

####

(Shoutout to the one person who theorized the size changing flashlight could be involved, I'd @ you but I don't want you to see this before you read the chapter. You may claim credit in the notes. Based on the messages I received, one person guessed Mabel got involved halfway through the fight, no one guessed she was in it from the start, and NOBODY guessed Dipper got involved.

For a fun time, go back and read last chapter and this one in chronological order via the timestamps!

But first I wanna hear all your thoughts.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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