#also if you do get stuck in your head someone will say something so ridiculous and out of left field you have to come back and see wtf is go

[your-dead-european-ancestor]

Binging sfth plays to distract myself from The Horrors. 10/10 would recommend im too busy laughing to worry ab anything else

[tvhsleb3ww]

SNEAKING IN YOUR ROOM - IWAIZUMI HAJIME

summary, you beg hajime to sneak into your room and who is he to say no?

when he read your text about you getting grounded by your parents, he thought it was amusing and sorta funny to imagine someone that's almost eighteen this year, got grounded for coming home behind curfew.

he didn't think much of it. he just comforted you through his text messages and he feels a little bad for you when you texted those insane amount of sad faces. he comforts you by saying your parents just want the best for you or they're just worried something might happen to you.

he knows how stubborn and rebelling you can be at times. he finds it cute although it can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

and as if you being grounded for two weeks isn't enough, you just had to— well ask for more.

you definetly were asking for more weeks of being grounded when you asked him to sneak into your room at exactly eleven p.m.

of course, he protested at first from how ridiculous the idea sounds. he definetly was consoling you by saying that you'll get into more trouble if he does that— he also doesn't want to ruin his reputation of a nice and respectful man that your parents think of him.

but he knows that he couldn't say no to you. not when you're begging and sending him pictures of you pouting for him to come and snuggle with you. he groans.

"pleasee, hajime! cmon!! don't you love me?" you whined into the phone and he sighed. he really didn't want to encourage anymore of your rule breakings.

yet here he is— stumbling on the roof of your house as he grabs onto your window, huffing and cursing when he felt like he almost fell. never in his life would he thought he'd be so down bad for a woman that he forces himself to do these ridiculous things.

he knocks on the glass of your window, and in just a second— you rolled the windows up and invited him in with a smile on your face.

"hey" you said with a teasing smile and snickered at his eye roll and grunt.

"hi" he grunts out as he forces his extremely large figure to fit into your small window. it's a great thing that heavens had blessed him with a tiny waist so he can fit in. his struggle to fit made him plop down on the floor of your bedroom— letting out a loud 'THUMP!' sound.

you snickered and helped him up as he takes out the dried leaves stuck in his hair. you helped him with this, of course.

"you are one crazy woman" he lets out a huff as he pats his clothes to clean it from the dust and dried leaves. you snickered at this as you pressed a kiss on his lips, your hands wrap around his neck.

he groans and wraps his toned arms around your waist, peppering kisses on your lips. you just giggled against his lips as he leads you to your bed, pushing you down gently.

"thanks for stopping by, hajime" you mumbled as he rolled his eyes, playfully. he huffs and grabs your face with his calloused hands, making you look at him.

"you never learn your lesson, huh?" he chuckles before pressing a kiss on your forehead. you replied with a giggle and a small kiss on his nose.

it was exactly 11:17 p.m. he had snuck in your house and currently snuggling with you. he knows that he shouldn't be doing this. ugh, your parents will think badly of him now but he'll do whatever you ask him to.

besides— it was kinda worth it. he thinks. no, it was really worth it. getting the chance to hold you close and engulf your smaller figure (compared to his) and sharing kisses while watching a stupid romcom on your phone.

it's so much better than having to wait two more weeks just to see you.

he'd do anything for you and you know that. you know how down bad he is for you. how much of a simp and loverboy he can be for you. though— he'd rather get beheaded by a guillitone than admit that.

and as both of you were too busy exchanging kisses and snuggling, you almost failed to notice the faint footsteps that were heading to your room.

almost failed.

your eyes widen as you quickly pull hajime out of the bed. you lead him into your closet.

"i think my mom is coming! just stay here, okay?" you said and before he could say anything in response, you shut the closet door on him exactly the time your mother had opened the door.

"(y/n)? what are you doing?" she asked and walked into your room, you gulped, nervous.

"i-i was just folding my clothes" you lied but that lie was enough to explain why you were standing in front of the closet. she nods and walks towards every corner of your room— as if to check something.

"ms satou— yknow, our next door neighbour?" she asked and kneeled down to check under the bed. you raised a brow at her question. "yeah? what about her?" you asked.

"she saw someone climbing up your room" shit. shit.

meanwhile inside the cramped closet, hajime was struggling to not fall and expose himself. fuck— he has never been into such a tight situation. he was cramped up in this small closet.

he had to keep his breathing down as he looks at the situation unwind through the small holes of your closet that was designed there. he sees your mother and your nervous state.

he's praying, praying that both of you don't get busted.

you scoffed at your mother's words. "ma, you know that ms satou is an old lady! it's probably just her imagination— are you seriously checking out my room for this?" you whined and your mother huffs.

"i just thought it was believable, you tend to be a troublemaker!" she exclaims and crossed her arms. "there's no one in here, ma! i'm being honest!" you lied and your mother sighed.

"fine, fine. just go to sleep, okay? i love you" your mother smiled and left your room.

exactly and that moment— the closet doors opened and hajime trampled onto the floor. he catches his breath. god, his muscles are all sore due to the cramped space.

you immediately kneeled down to check on him. "haji, are you okay? i'm sorry for that" you said and helped him up. he groaned and stretched his body, twisting his body.

"don't lie to your mother, that's not nice" he huffs and you just smiled, quickly pulling him closer for a kiss.

"and let you get caught?" you chuckled as he kissed you back. "my arms are sore from how cramped that closet of yours is" he complains and you lead him to your bed, straddling his lap as you massage his biceps.

"poor you" you teased and pressed kisses against his lips— all while massaging his bicep. he groaned into the kiss, a small smile planted on his face.

apparently both of you were too busy making out to the point that you failed to notice your mother's gasp of surprise.

[eliaah]

you called them “your husband”

characters: yami sukehiro, fuegoleon vermillion, nozel silva, william vangeance, & jack.

tags: fluff , multi characters x fem reader

a/n: i forgot to add william in my last post so here's my apology for him shjsksksks, i'm so sorry that i forgot him 😭

🍁 YAMI SUKEHIRO

The tavern is lively tonight, filled with the usual rowdy crowd. After a long mission, there’s nothing better than unwinding with a drink in hand, especially with Yami by my side. We’re sitting at the bar, close enough that our shoulders brush together every time one of us moves. It’s a small comfort, a reminder that he’s here, and that I’m safe.

The Black Bulls are scattered around the tavern, celebrating in their usual chaotic fashion. Magna and Asta are arm-wrestling in the corner, while Finral is attempting to flirt with a group of local girls, much to Charmy’s amusement as she devours her feast. The laughter and chatter create a warm, buzzing atmosphere that feels like home.

Yami leaned in closer to me, his deep voice rumbling softly in my ear. “You did good out there today. Not bad for someone who’s usually stuck doing paperwork.”

I smirked, nudging him with my elbow. “I’m more than just a pretty face, Captain.”

He chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Damn right you are.”

The comfortable banter between us had always been there, but tonight felt different. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through our veins, or maybe it was just the warmth of the tavern and the closeness we shared.

As I take a sip of my drink, a group of regulars from the tavern comes over, striking up a conversation. They’ve clearly had a few too many, but their curiosity gets the better of them. One of them, a burly man with a grin that shows off a missing tooth, looks between Yami and me.

“So, what’s the deal with you two?” he asks, his voice slurred.

I feel a mischievous smile tug at my lips as I lean back in my chair, deciding to have a little fun. “Oh, he's my husband.” The words come out before I can fully think them through, but once they’re out there, I don’t regret them. There’s a split second where everything feels like it’s frozen in time—like the whole tavern is holding its breath.

Yami, who had been in the middle of taking a drink, nearly chokes. He looks at me with wide eyes, his expression a mixture of shock and amusement. The rest of the group looks between us, unsure if they should laugh or back away slowly.

“Husband, huh?” Yami finally says, setting his drink down and wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s trying to play it cool, but I can see the redness creeping up his neck and to his cheeks.

I give him a cheeky grin, tilting my head slightly. “Yeah, you got a problem with that… husband?”

The word feels strange on my tongue, but it also feels right. And by the way Yami’s looking at me, I can tell it hit him just as hard. He leans closer, his face just inches from mine now, and I can see the playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one.” he says, his voice low and teasing. But the way his lips quirk up and his ears turn a little red gives him away. He’s as flustered as I am.

“I’d like to see you try.” I shoot back, my heart racing faster than it should. There’s a charged energy between us, something more than just the usual teasing banter.

For a moment, we just stare at each other, the noise of the tavern fading into the background. His face is so close, and all I can think about is how red his cheeks are—how red mine must be too. It’s ridiculous, really. We’ve been together for a while now, and yet, this simple word, “husband,” has both of us acting like nervous teenagers.

Yami’s the first to break the silence, laughing softly as he pulls back slightly, his grin widening. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

I roll my eyes, though I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face. “Yeah, yeah. You know you liked it.”

He gives me a look that’s half amused, half something else—something warmer. “Maybe I did.” he admits, his voice quieter now, almost serious.

There’s a moment where neither of us says anything. Then, as if realizing how sappy things are getting, Yami suddenly grabs his mug, downing the rest of his drink in one go. I laugh, the tension breaking as easily as it had formed.

But even as we go back to our usual banter, teasing each other about anything and everything, I can’t help but notice how his hand occasionally brushes against mine or how his gaze lingers just a little too long.

And when the night finally ends and we head back to the base, Yami pulls me close, his arm around my waist, and whispers in my ear, “G’night, wife.”

My heart skips a beat, and I look up at him, seeing the same flustered expression on his face.

“Goodnight, husband.” I whisper back, feeling my face flush once more.

We walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence, both of us trying to hide our smiles in the darkness of the night.

🍁 FUEGOLEON VERMILLION

The grand hall of the Vermillion estate is quiet tonight, a serene stillness settling over the room. The warm, golden glow from the fireplace bathes the space in a comforting light, making the shadows dance along the walls. Fuegoleon and I are nestled together on a plush couch, wrapped in a peaceful silence that feels as intimate as any conversation. His arm is draped over my shoulders, fingers gently playing with a strand of my hair, and I find myself leaning into him, savoring the rare moment of calm.

The day had been long, filled with duties and obligations that left little time for us. But now, with the world outside feeling so far away, it’s just the two of us. This, I think, is my favorite part of the day.

I tilt my head to look up at him, admiring the way the firelight softens his usually stern features. “You know,” I begin softly, a playful tone creeping into my voice, “I could get used to spending my evenings like this.”

Fuegoleon looks down at me, a curious smile playing on his lips. “And what exactly would that be?” he asks, his voice warm.

“With my husband.” I reply, the words slipping out almost too casually, though the impact of them is anything but.

For a moment, everything seems to pause. Fuegoleon’s eyes widen slightly, the word clearly catching him off guard. He blinks, processing what I just said, and I can see the faintest hint of pink rising to his cheeks. Despite his usually composed demeanor, there’s a flicker of something more vulnerable in his expression, something that makes my heart swell.

“Husband.” he repeats, almost as if he’s testing the word on his tongue. His voice is calm, but there’s a softness in it that wasn’t there before. I can tell that he’s flustered, though he’s trying to hide it behind that noble composure.

I smile up at him, feeling a bit giddy at his reaction. “Yes, my husband.” I say, a little more firmly this time, enjoying the way the word makes him react. “That’s what you are, after all.”

Fuegoleon lets out a soft, almost nervous laugh, the sound so unlike his usual self that it makes my heart skip a beat. “Well then,” he begins, his voice gentle but tinged with a warmth that makes my cheeks flush, “if I’m your husband, then that must make you… my wife.”

Now it’s my turn to feel flustered, the weight of his words sinking in. There’s something so intimate, so precious about hearing him call me that, and I can feel my face heating up in response. But it’s not just the words, it’s the way he says them, with such sincerity and affection that it makes me want to melt into the cushions.

He notices my reaction, and a soft smile spreads across his face, his eyes filled with a rare, tender warmth. Fuegoleon shifts slightly, his hand cupping my cheek as he leans in closer. “My wife.” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with so much emotion that it makes my heart flutter.

I lean into his touch, my own smile widening as I meet his gaze. “I think I like the sound of that,” I murmur, my voice trembling slightly with the overwhelming rush of affection I feel for him.

His thumb brushes gently across my cheek, and for a moment, it feels like the entire world has narrowed down to just the two of us. “And I think I like calling you that.” he replies softly, his eyes never leaving mine.

Fuegoleon leans down, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, the gesture so full of love that it takes my breath away. As he pulls back, his gaze lingers on mine, and I can see the soft blush that still colors his cheeks. It’s a rare sight to see him this flustered, and it makes the moment all the more special.

“Husband.” he says again, the word almost reverent, as if he’s savoring it. “I promise, I’ll always do my best to be worthy of that title.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back, not wanting to miss a second of this moment. “And I’ll always be here by your side.” I whisper, my voice filled with all the love I feel for him.

He pulls me closer, wrapping me in his arms, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my own. As we sit there, the warmth of the fire and the comfort of his embrace surrounding us, I realize that this—right here, with him—is all I’ll ever need.

And as the night drifts on, and the flames in the fireplace begin to die down, Fuegoleon’s hand remains intertwined with mine, a silent promise that whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together, as husband and wife.

🍁 NOZEL SILVA

The grand hall of the Silva estate is elegantly decorated for Nozel’s birthday. Soft lights and floral arrangements create a warm, inviting atmosphere, and the guests mingle with drinks in hand. Despite the festive mood, Nozel stands somewhat aloof, his usual stern demeanor reflecting his indifference towards birthdays. Yet, he appears subtly touched by the effort around him.

As the evening progresses, a series of heartfelt messages are shared in Nozel’s honor. When it’s my turn, I step up with a blend of excitement and affection, feeling both nervous and eager to speak.

Nozel looks at me with his usual calm but curious gaze, and I begin.

“Happy birthday, Nozel. I know you often think birthdays are just another day, but I wanted to take this moment to tell you how much you mean to me. Your strength and dedication are truly admirable, but it’s your kindness and support that touch my heart the most. I’m incredibly grateful for every day we spend together.”

The room is silent as everyone listens, clearly moved by my words. Nozel’s expression softens, a rare, tender smile gracing his lips. The crowd watches with anticipation.

I take a playful breath and add, “And, since it’s your special day,” I continue, “I guess I should mention… I’m glad to be with you, my husband.”

A collective gasp echoes through the hall, followed by curious whispers. “They’re married? When did that happen?” The room buzzes with surprise.

Nozel’s face turns a deep shade of red, his usual calm composure replaced by an endearing fluster. I can’t help but chuckle, enjoying the playful chaos I’ve stirred.

After the applause, Nozel approaches me with a sheepish but affectionate smile. “Did you really have to drop that bombshell in front of everyone?” His voice is gentle, tinged with a mix of embarrassment and fondness.

I look up at him, my cheeks flushed from both the excitement and his reaction. “I just thought it would make your birthday more memorable.” I tease with a wink.

Nozel’s blush deepens, but his eyes soften as he gazes at me. “I appreciate that.” he says, his smile widening. “It’s nice to know you care enough to tease me like this.”

I squeeze his hand playfully. “Even if it’s just teasing, I wanted to remind you that you’re deeply loved and appreciated. I hope it made you smile.”

Nozel’s expression turns even more tender, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You certainly succeeded in making me smile. And... I have to admit, I’m starting to like the sound of ‘husband’.”

As the evening continues, our playful banter becomes a sweet part of the celebration. Nozel, embracing the nickname, uses it with a fond smile. His initial embarrassment fades into a comfortable affection, and he begins to tease me back with a charmingly flustered grin.

When the soft strains of music fill the room, Nozel extends his hand with a gracious smile. “May I have this dance, my wife?”

I nod, feeling my heart flutter with happiness. As we move to the center of the room, Nozel’s hand is gentle but firm, guiding me with care. After a few moments, he leans in and kisses the back of my hand, his eyes full of warmth.

“I’m glad to have you by my side,” he murmurs softly. “And I’m grateful for every moment we share, teasing or otherwise.”

I smile up at him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “And I’m glad to be with you, husband.”

As we continue to dance, surrounded by the soft glow of the candles and the cheerful hum of the celebration, the night transforms into a moment of genuine connection and affection, making it a birthday to remember for both of us.

🍁 WILLIAM VANGEANCE

The flower shop is a haven of tranquility, its shelves bursting with colorful blooms and sweet fragrances. William and I are browsing, searching for a special flower to celebrate our relationship. As I sift through the flowers, my excitement builds, knowing this day is about cherishing our bond.

Spotting the elderly shopkeeper, I approach her with a warm smile. “Excuse me, I’m looking for white orchids. They’re for my husband.”

The shopkeeper’s eyes light up with a gentle smile. “White orchids, you say? We have a lovely bouquet in the back. Let me get it for you.”

As she heads to retrieve the flowers, I glance back at William. He’s standing a little ways behind me, his face slightly flushed and a soft smile on his lips. He seems genuinely touched by my casual use of “husband.” and it makes my heart flutter.

William steps closer, his voice tender yet playful. “You really didn’t have to call me that in public. It’s… unexpected.”

I turn to him, my eyes filled with affection. “I wanted to. It feels right to call you that, even if it’s just a playful term. It’s a small way to show how much you mean to me.”

William’s cheeks are tinged with pink, and he looks at me with a mix of surprise and warmth. “Well, I have to admit, it’s quite endearing. It’s not something I expected today, but it certainly made me smile.”

The shopkeeper returns with a bouquet of pristine white orchids, placing it gently on the counter. I take the bouquet, feeling its delicate beauty. As I hold it close, I feel William’s hand brush against mine, and he leans in slightly.

“Thank you for choosing these,” he says, his voice soft. “They’re perfect, just like you.”

I blush, feeling a deep sense of joy. “I’m glad you think so. I wanted to do something special for you. Even if it’s just a small gesture, it means a lot to me.”

William’s smile grows, and he reaches out to gently tuck a white orchid from the bouquet into my hair. His touch is tender, and his eyes are filled with a loving gaze. “This flower suits you perfectly. It’s a symbol of how much you mean to me.”

I feel my heart race at his sweet gesture. “Thank you. It’s beautiful, and it makes this moment even more special.”

As we leave the shop after purchasing, hand in hand with the bouquet between us, William’s gaze is soft and affectionate. “I have to say, I’m not embarrassed by the nickname. It makes me happy. It’s a reminder of how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

I smile, feeling a warm blush on my cheeks. “I’m glad you like it. It’s just a small way of saying how much I love being with you.”

William’s smile deepens as he gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “And I love every moment we share. You’ve made today unforgettable.”

Walking together, the bouquet of white orchids between us, the day feels magical. William’s gentle touch and the warmth of our shared moments make everything feel perfect, and I feel deeply connected and cherished.

🍁 JACK

During a lively festival, Jack and Yami are locked in a heated cooking competition. The atmosphere is electric, with people cheering and enjoying the festivities.

Jack and Yami are both in the middle of preparing their dishes at their respective stalls. The crowd is watching intently, and the rivalry between the two is adding to the excitement of the event.

As Jack is focused on his cooking, he suddenly starts arguing with Yami about the best way to cook a dish. Their bickering gets louder and more intimidating. Trying to intervene and bring some calm, I step in.

“Alright, you two, enough already!” I say, trying to be heard over their arguing.

Jack turns to me, looking slightly frazzled. “What’s the matter?”

I roll my eyes playfully. “You’re making a scene, Jack. You need to focus on your cooking and stop fighting.”

Jack’s eyes widen in shock, and he tries to respond, but I cut him off. “And as much as I adore you, you really need to stop being such a loudmouth. I suppose that’s just how my husband acts.”

The entire area goes quiet for a moment, with everyone turning to look at us. Jack freezes, his eyes widening in shock. Yami bursts into laughter, clearly enjoying Jack’s reaction.

“Husband?” Yami calls out, laughing. “You two are married now?”

Jack’s face turns bright red, and he looks around, clearly flustered. “W-what? No, it’s just—”

I give him a teasing smile, enjoying the effect of my words. “Just a slip of the tongue, Jack. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jack tries to regain his composure but is clearly struggling. “Yeah, sure. Just a slip of the tongue,” he mumbles, trying to hide his embarrassment.The crowd starts chuckling softly, enjoying the unexpected turn of events. Yami continues to tease Jack, while Jack tries to focus on the competition, though his flustered state makes it difficult.

As the festival winds down and we finish packing up, Jack approaches me with a slightly nervous but hopeful expression. He pulls out a small, neatly wrapped box from his bag.

“Hey,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. “I, uh, brought you something.”

I look at the box with curiosity. “What’s this?”

“It’s nothing special,” Jack replies quickly, trying to downplay it. “Just a little something I thought you might like.”

I open the box to find a portion of my favorite food, carefully prepared and packed. My heart warms at the sight.

“This is really sweet of you. Thank you.”

Jack scratches the back of his head, looking a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, well, you mentioned you liked it a lot, so I figured... you know.”

I smile, reaching out to give him a gentle hug. “It means a lot to me. Thank you.”

Jack smiles back, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Don’t mention it. Just... don’t expect me to call you ‘wife’ all the time or anything.”

I laugh, holding the box close. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As we walk away from the festival, Jack occasionally glances at me, clearly pleased by my reaction. The playful teasing from earlier is replaced with a comfortable, warm feeling between us. The evening ends with us enjoying the food Jack made, sharing stories and laughter under the stars, with the sweet memory of his thoughtful gesture adding a special touch to the night.

[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ the doghouse — ken sato x reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

synopsis: you head home from last night’s escapade only for him to come knocking on your door..

content warning: innuendos, suggestive, cursing and profanity

word count: 2k

· · ─────── ·{ ✐ᝰ.ᐟ}· ─────── · ·

002: bird in teeth

The aftermath of that night left the both of you, passed out in the tangle of each other’s bodies. It was hard to slip out of his grasp and when you awoke just before sunrise—his grip around your waist still tight even deep in slumber. As you picked up your clothes that were thrown carelessly on the floor, you looked back and smiled at the sleeping figure, face exhausted but basically beaming with that post-sex glow. God if it were real, you would light up like a goddamn generator. Either way, you smiled, silently thanked him for the night, lifted some cash out his wallet and were on your way.

You heard someone say something about how with one night stands, you always leave something behind—an eyelash, a shirt, your dignity at the door. The general idea was that you’d lose something every single time, thus the notion that you shouldn’t engage in these kind of activities, the idea to you always seemed so ridiculous. Sure, maybe you lost a little bit of self-respect every time you did, giving parts of yourself away like that, but you’d always take something in return. Sometimes you’d take something small and insignificant as a memento: a decorative teaspoon, a comic book, a little trinket—sometimes cash, for the cab ride back home, you’d reason (you took the train).

And in the early morning commute back: so many other women and men that shared the same look of exhaustion, sometimes contentment, more often shame—took the 5AM train with you, all doing the walk of shame. You never agreed with that phrase, somehow found it patronizing and demeaning, or maybe you just felt it didn’t apply to you. The ride back was always so refreshing. You felt reborn, energized—like a succubus after claiming a soul. This was your life, and that's how you would spend your nights, so you could spend your mornings like this: skimping through the half-empty streets in last night’s clothes and ruined makeup with a bit more pep in your step. Hell, sometimes you even skipped all the way back.

It was Sunday morning: the bar you worked at closed on Mondays and would only reopen Tuesday night, so you had a whole faux weekend to sleep away. You passed by the church on the way back and lingered slightly, watching the crowds and families clamor out. I wouldn’t be welcome there, you thought to yourself. They wouldn’t want a sinner like me. Somehow it reminded you of your family back home, in their Sunday best, rushing to get from church towards iHop. That was you guys’ tradition. At the sight of the memory, you felt something inside of you twist and churn. You brushed off the feeling and showed it somewhere deep inside of you, where it wouldn’t threaten to resurface, and continued the walk back home.

When you turned the key towards your apartment, your dogs, Lassie and Strauber greeted you by the door, jumping up at you excitedly. You patted them affectionately and opened the backdoor for them to go run around in the tiny balcony yard. You huffed out contently, watching them run circles and chase each other within the space; you grew up with dogs, can’t imagine a life where you didn’t have some sort of trustworthy companion that would stick with you through thick and thin. When you moved from the country to the big city; your dogs, a tiny suitcase, and the beat up truck were all you took. They stuck their heads out the window, panting and eyes wide—looked back at you, excited for the new life that was to come for them.

The ceiling fan spun circles above you, now sprawled out on the couch. Summers in Tokyo were hot, but you also couldn’t exactly afford the electric bill if you blasted the AC on. At least work had good air conditioning. For now, you just had to figure out a way to beat the heat until you could clock in again. You sighed and put your arm over your eyes, blocking out the sun’s glares, and slowly drifted off to sleep—trying to make up for the lack thereof from last night. You dreamt vaguely of the grass behind your grandfather’s farm, long and thick, billowing in the wind. You, Lassie, and Strauber ran up hills and picked fruit from the trees to enjoy. You napped underneath the huge cherry vines with its flowers perfuming the breeze. The countryside was boring, but it was home. Sometimes you wondered if leaving was the right thing to have done.

Your daydreaming was cut short by an abrupt knock on the door. Getting up and still drowsy from sleep, you didn’t think about looking out the peephole before opening the door to tell off whoever decided to come bother you.

“What do you want?” You bark at the figure in front of you. Only when your eyes adjust to the light do you realize who you’re talking to. You step back a little, alarmed to see him again so soon.

“Hi,” Ken smiles sheepishly through the half open door, “can I come in?”

“What the hell,” you say, a feeling of unease coursing through your body, “how did you get here- how.. how did you find out where I lived?”

He holds up your day planner, covered in stickers, sharpie doodles, and jangling keychains—it held your work card and a small sum of cash too. It must’ve slipped out of your pocket and into some crevice somewhere when he tore off your clothes last night. You scowl at the memory, impressed by your bad luck. Sighing, you unlock the chain and let him in. Lassie and Strauber barked from behind the yard’s screen door, and he jumps a little at the noise.

“You’ve got dogs?”

“No, I don’t—you must be imagining things,” you reply, a little annoyed by the question (and his presence). You didn’t like seeing the men you slept with again, they always found ways to make things weird and awkward.

Ken shoots his hands up in surrender, sensing your hostility.

“What do you want?” You ask again, sitting down the couch, opening up your day planner to figure out what other information he could've gotten. Phone number? Email? Bank account?

“I didn’t take your money,” he comments, you shoot him a look. “Unlike someone here.”

“Hey!” You answer defensively, “it was for a cab, alright? I deserve to be able to get back safely.”

“Cab, sureee,” he draws out his words, his voice carrying a playful lilt, “400 bucks for a cab?”

“It’s a long way from your place to mine,” you cross your arms over your chest, “also you ruined my underwear, I was claiming compensation.”

“What? That little thing?” He laughs, throwing his head back and wrapping his arms over his waist. “Honey, it’s not my fault that fragile little string broke—I wouldn’t expect it to hold up.”

You feel the heat creep up to your cheeks at the mention of last night again. You weren’t the same kind of person in the daylight—easily flustered and more bashful. It was like you had two different personalities living in you, constantly wrestling for control. Maybe your ex was right.

You shake your head and snap out of your internal monologue, trying to regain ground in the conversation.

“Don’t call me honey,” you sneer.

He holds up his hands in surrender again. “Sorry ma’am.”

You roll your eyes.

“Look, thank you for coming all the way to give me my day planner back. It was a- uhm, very generous gesture, but if you will, I have other things to tend to.” You escort him out of your living room and into the hall, motioning for him to leave.

Yeah, other things to tend to do. Like sleeping the entire faux weekend away, and blowing the 400 bucks you lifted on some Indian takeout. Mutton curry sounds so good right now.

You push him out the door, and wait for him to leave, but he just stands there, unmoving. Your eyebrows furrow in frustration and you pinch the bridge of your nose. What was wrong with this guy? You swear he was nothing like the person you had met last night.

“Hello? Earth to Ken? Is that it?” You ask, waving a hand in front of his face. He stands, dumbfounded, eyes wide. After a moment, he finally speaks.

“God, you’re gorgeous in the daylight.”

You’re caught by surprise by this statement, because: one, it’s Ken Sato, famous baseball player saying this to you, but also, two, you thought that it was just something he said under the stench of lust last night. Something people say just to get others to sleep with them. Like I love you or you’re so funny or whatever. You feel your cheeks redden again at his words, and he breaks out into a smile at the sight of this.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he says, “where’ve you been all along? I missed you.”

God.

“Stop,” you look away, embarrassed, hand covering the lower half of your face. “I don’t see my one night stands again, it always turns out messy.”

“One night stand?” He says, face twisting into an expression of amusement. “Well, honey, I’m more than just a one night stand.”

You cringe. “Don’t call me honey.”

Another look of surrender.

“I’m just saying,” a cocky smile stretches across his lips, “it doesn’t have to be that way.”

You shake your head, incredulous.

“Yeah, no way,” you reply, closing the door. He lunges forward and curls his fingers by the edge, fighting back.

“One date,” he says, trying to keep the gap open, “one date and if you don’t like me then I’ll back off.”

“I’m not in the mood to get dressed up and go out.” You say, straining with all your might.

“That’s fine! Then I’ll just come over to your place,” he heaves, “I’ll bring food.”

You’re leaning against the entire door frame, feet slipping from the sheer force of him, but it’s no use—he wins, the door stands wide open.

“Please?” He begs. Your head drops at the sight of him, cursing yourself for getting involved with him in the first place. You should have been more careful, should have picked another guy. Someone that was one and done and you could sweep under the carpet—not someone who would show up to your doorstep and beg for a date.

“Fine,” you sigh, feeling as if arguing was useless. “One date, that’s all you get—and then you fuck off.”

“Yes!” He cheers, fist up in the air like a child celebrating a soccer goal. “I’ll see you tonight at 8!”

You slam the door in his face, eager to get him out. Through the wall, you can still hear his excited whoops. You walk over to the yard and let Lassie and Strauber back in, the both of them making a beeline towards the entrance to sniff out the scent of the man that had just left. Once satisfied, they headed over to your figure on the couch, sprawled in the same position that you were before he came, rudely interrupting your nap. You reached down to comb your fingers through Lassie’s soft fur, long locks of reddish hair, smooth as silk. The dogs yawn and let out a little high pitched sigh.

“I know girl,” you coo, patting the two of them, “just bear with me. It’s just for tonight. Just tonight and then the weird man will leave us alone.”

Weird, you thought. Things had such a way of turning around and rearing its ugly head. When was the last time you had a date? Like a proper one that wasn’t just a precursor to sex? You rake through your memories of the previous months and find all the details meshed together, faces and voices of people blurring into one another. You’d lost track of how many people you used, or how long this kind of thing had been going on for. Deep down you knew it was self destructive, but maybe that was also the point.

I should quit, you thought to yourself, throwing your arm over your eyes again, trying to escape into sleep.

But you tell yourself that same lie every time. You always say you’d quit but you never did.

prev | next

· · ─────── ·{ ✐ᝰ.ᐟ}· ─────── · ·

author’s note: guys I’m so sorry for the delay 😭😭 I’ve just been released from the jaws of hell (uni) and I’ve kind of went ham enjoying my newfound freedom (finally being able to get 8 hours of sleep) also tumblr was being weird like I couldn’t reply to comments or check my messages it sucked bUT ANYWAYS WE’RE BACK SO EXPECT MORE UPDATES SOON 🫵‼️‼️💥💥💥 as always, thank you so much for supporting my work! I hope you guys continue to enjoy what I put out here 🥰🥰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

taglist: @luneariaa @moonjellyfishie @sweetcheeksbby @shittingonyourgrave @shauu @witcwitchy @fcklxnaa @despacito-uwu16 @mqshido @miffysoo @ybbayk @hore4ken @mochminnie @femmefqtqle @miratastic @lovingyeet @mythicalmo @yourfellowmarzipan @softdumplingposts

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 RICH GIRL kim chaewon x reader

↳ warnings: idol au, 6th member reader, yn drives chaewon crazy

MOST GROUPS IN THE INDUSTRY had a good and sturdy relationship with their members and especially if you’re the leader, the foundation of a good relationship with your members is the best thing to have.

but that just wasn’t the case with chaewon and yn, well just chaewon.

she couldn’t stand her member yn the moment she walked into that practice room to prepare for debut and yn stuck out like sore thumb, her practice clothes looked too expensive for something to be sweating in.

yn was a rich girl but not just any kind of rich, she was the rich that will last generations, her family was huge in the country, probably the most privileged family in korea to exist.

and chaewon hated that. she didn’t understand why yn would even want to be an idol when she was set for life, why couldn’t she leave the spot open for someone who actually needs it to make money.

she also found yn very stuck up in her opinion, she was a diva and a brat and chaewon doesn’t understand how the other girls love her so much when all she does is complain.

like right now.

“you mean I have to get in the water right after I just straightened my hair?” the rich girl said, the look of the disgust was apparent on her face as she moves forward to take a look at chaewon from the backseat, “that’s ridiculous.”

chaewon squeezed her eyes shut as yunjin laughed and patted yn’s shoulder, “yn, I can’t control what we do in concept photos.”

yn pouted and leaned back in her seat and rested her head on yunjin’s shoulder, “I could control it.” she mutters softly to herself causing yunjin to shake her head knowing that yn’s words would trigger the leader.

chaewon feels something snap in her and she immediately turns to look at yn with anger in her eyes, “you can’t call your daddy for everything princess.” she says a vain nearly popping out of her head.

yn doesn’t even flinch at the leaders harsh tone, completely used to it and just lets out a sigh, “I would actually call my mother for your information.” she says before picking up her phone to look at herself in her camera, “and I look so hot too, oh my gosh this sucks.” she whines.

chaewon would’ve lunged at yn in the car if it wasn’t for sakura gripping her shoulder firmly so all she did was clench her fists and turn back around to the front.

this was gonna be a long day.

chaewon stands with kazuha and yunjin as they waited for yn, eunchae and sakura to come out of hair and makeup to take the photos.

she heard loud laughs getting louder and louder and stopped herself from rolling her eyes, knowing immediately who it was.

she watched as eunchae and sakura waked in with arms linked while yn walked behind them with one of their managers holding his arm and laughing.

if there was one thing chaewon couldn’t stand about yn it was the way she acted with that manger, he was on the younger side the closest to their age and it was like yn was attached to him, all she did was hold onto him and laugh at everything that came out his mouth.

oh, how chaewon couldn’t stand it.

she tries her best to not roll her eyes and watched as yn let go of his arm and walked over to them, as much as she hated to admit it yn was beautiful and she looked even more beautiful in her outfit.

when yn made her way over to them she immediately linked her arm with yunjin’s and told the girl how amazing she looked.

what about the rest of us? Is what she wanted to bud in and ask but held her tongue.

all six girls huddled together as the photographer stood in front of them, “so we’re gonna do pairs first take a break and then do group photos.” he explained as the girls nodded.

“okay first we have chaewon and yn.” he calls causing chaewon to tense immediately, her and yn had fortunately never had to do something together alone.

why does she have so much bad luck?

yn walked over to the set and waited for chaewon who slowly walked up over, “hello! how about we do this today!” yn calls out sassily causing everyone including the staff to laugh as chaewon flushes in embarrassment.

she reluctantly walked over faster and stands beside yn waiting for instructions.

“okay, so yn i need you to get in the water.” he says and yn lets out a sigh and carefully gets in the pool, “and chaewon I need you to sit on the ledge.”

chaewon can’t help but smile at the look at the pout on yn’s face, the girl obviously not liking that she was the only one in the water

chaewon sits on the ledge and lets her feet dip into the water before waiting for the rest of the instructions.

“okay, now yn i need you to rest your cheek on chaewon’s thigh and look straight into the camera.” chaewon tenses at the instruction as yn rest her cheek on her thigh without a thought, following his instructions completely.

“great, now chaewon i need you to look down at yn and just hold that pose.” she follows the instructions and looks down at yn who looks straight and chaewon can’t help but think about how pretty she looks, its a shame she’s so insufferable.

“perfect!, okay now next pose, chaewon i need you in the water.”

chaewon reluctantly gets in the water and waits for the rest of the instructions, “I need you guys to tangle up together, wrap your arms around each other.”

chaewon immediately reddened at that instruction as yn once again without a thought in her head pulled chaewon close to her and wrapped her arms around the leaders neck before looking into the camera.

chaewon tried her best to follow yn’s lead but she felt like she was on fire, this was her first time being this close to yn and she had this weird feeling in her stomach the whole time like butterflies, but that couldn’t be right?

between takes yn whispers in chaewon’s ear, “why are you being more pissy than usual today?”

chaewon tries her best to not roll her eyes and whispers back, “maybe if you stopped flirting with our manager I wouldn’t be so pissy.”

yn opens her mouth to respond but the photographer called out that they were done and chaewon immediately pulled herself away from the arms and got out of the pool before walking over to Sakura who had a towel leaving the girl in the pool.

chaewon avoided yn for the rest of the shoot, the feeling that she was getting around the girl was throwing her off completely so she ignored the girl for the rest of the shoot, hoping that she could also ignore at the dorms as well.

but when does things ever go her way?

chaewon heard a knock one her bed room and before she could ask who is it the person opened it already.

she let out a groan when she saw yn in her door way, the girl was in chanel pjs and had a sheet mask on her face with fuzzy slippers.

“you couldn’t knock?” chaewon asks but yn doesn’t answer and just walks more into the girls room.

“gosh , your room is disgusting.” she says scrunching up her face as she scanned the leaders room, “a custom made mirror would look good right here.” she says motioning towards one of the walls.

“what do you want yn? I don’t need suggestions from you.”

“everyone needs suggestions from me.” yn says as she picks up a dirty sweater off of chaewon’s floor and throws it on a chair, “but that’s not why im here.”

chaewon raises a brow waiting for the girl to continue, “I was thinking about what you said earlier about me flirting with our manager.”

“and?”

“and? I was wondering why me flirting with him would make you so mad but then it hit me.” yn said walking closer to chaewon’s bed, “I know why.”

“you do?” yn is actually self aware and knows how insufferable she is? chaewon asks herself.

“yep.” yn nods her head, “you have a crush on me!”

chaewon’s eyes widened so big they looked like they were gonna pop out of her head, “what?!”

“and it all makes sense!” yn continues, “you being so mean to me was probably a cover up for how much you’re in love with me.”

chaewon couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“me flirting with our manager was probably your last straw, how cute.” yn says flipping her hair, “right?”

all chaewon could do was look at yn in shock, this was the first time she was genuinely speechless.

“all you had to do was ask me on a date leader.” yn says teasingly before walking towards chaewon’s door. “I’d say yes” she winks before walking out of chaewon’s room closing the door calling out a good night.

chaewon’s is still staring in shock.

what just happened?

[rayshippouuchiha]

Ray, more of the Assassination Classroom Fem!Tsuna hit. This is entirely your fault, so you get to deal with it.

Tsuna has a sinking feeling in her gut the first day of middle school. She gets turned around and mixed up, and somehow she ends up on a bus, and she’s racing through the woods and into a classroom full of strangers. She’s too embarrassed to say anything so she slinks into a seat in a corner. She’s in the wrong school, the senpai at Namimori Middle have her in entirely the wrong town. Even a dame like her can recognize Kunugigaoka uniforms. Hibari-senpai is going to be so angry with her.

Nothing could have prepared her for Koro-sensei. — Tsuna is petrified. She’s too young for this. After all the ruckus, everyone’s attempts, that’s all that rings in her head. She’s too young for this. She’s not even supposed to be here. — Tsuna is stuck. She can’t afford to take the bus, or the time to take the bus, from Namimori everyday. In retrospect, she really does have to hand it to her old senpai. They’d gotten up early to ‘walk her to school’ and paid to get her on the bus. But it’s coming close to the end of the day, they’ve come no closer to assassinating Koro-sensei, and she doesn’t have bus fare home anyway. She’s not even sure Mama would be able to keep it together long enough to come get her.

Everyone in Namimori knows her Mama needs, help sometimes. Everyone is glad to give it to her. Tsuna just doesn’t trust that anyone would think helping her Mama help Tsuna would be a good thing. — Trembling, Tsuna stays in her seat at the end of the day. What should she do? What can she do? She’s just Dame-Tsuna, in the wrong grade, in the wrong class, in the wrong school, in the wrong town. She keeps her head tilted down to allow everyone to ignore her tears.

A gentle touch to her shoulder makes her flinch. She tilts her head up to see Koro-sensei standing at her shoulder. — Calling Mama was useless, just like Tsuna knew it would be. She’s just thrilled that her “Dame-Tsuna” managed to get into the prestigious Kunugigao despite her, everything. Tsuna loves her mama, she does. But sometimes Tsuna thinks she could hate her a little too. Karasuma-sensei and Koro-sensei are both very angry.

Tsuna wants to cry that it’s not her fault. Mama tries to love her and pay attention to her, but Mama is sick. Something doesn’t work right in Mama’s head, like something doesn’t work right in Tsuna’s. But while whatever went wrong in Mama’s head means that she has a hard time remembering things if she doesn’t see them, whatever’s wrong with Tsuna is just everything. — They get her an apartment. It’s close to the school and a market. It’s basic and bare and empty and tiny, but Tsuna supposes she’s tiny so that makes sense. Karasuma-sensei is her neighbor, but she’s left to basically make it on her own. She gets a small stipend, the only one in class to do so. It’s not much, but it should be enough for groceries.

She doesn’t know how to cook. She never learned how to do what her homework is asking her to do. At least she can tell herself it’s because it’s work two grades above her and not just because she’s dame. — Karasuma-sensei is kind enough to get her to school the next day. He’s also nice enough not to say anything about her still red eyes, or how long she sobbed last night. He just handed her a handkerchief.

Tsunami can’t remember the last time someone was so kind to her. She waits for the ridicule to start, but it never comes. — After a few days, when it becomes obvious and impossible to ignore that she’s just as stuck here as the rest of them, Nagisa-senpai gives her a girl’s uniform. It’s big on her, but at least she doesn’t stand out this way. As much.

Tsuna pricks her fingers bloody, and her stitches are crooked, and the seams are bulky, but at least it kind of fits her a little better now.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hey, there! If you don't mind me asking again, I was wondering about two things: is Aegon a lowkey brat? Because I have the impression that he could be one. And what could you say about Aegon's wife going away from king's landing for a important meeting or something similar? It's a given that his mood would sour more and more as day passes, but what's the extension or it?

Brilliant questions!! I’m always in awe of the stuff you guys manage to come up with to ask me. As much as you guys say you love my stuff, I couldn’t do it without all your inspiration.

Anyway, sub!aegon below the cut :))

So for the first question, I think Aegon tends to default to being a brat because it’s less scary? He’s so so used to being a disappointment to everyone. He can’t remember the last time someone in his family actually praised him, or even just acknowledged that he’s trying. He’s knows he’s not fit to rule, but he’s stuck here now and even if he tries his best it will never be even close to good enough.

I think this thinking bleeds into his interactions with brothel workers? He knows he’s submissive, he knows he wants someone else to take control, but he’s also so terrified of trying to be good because he thinks he’ll fail?

He always feels so vulnerable when he’s submitting and honestly, he wishes he could be good, but he’s so sure if he tries to do his best he’ll only get ridiculed and that will break him. Seeing the person he’s submitting to treat his efforts like a failure would just make him crumble.

So for that reason, he acts out instead. He talks back and disobeys and forces them to punish him because that’s safer, he can submit like that without getting his heart crushes.

Except he runs into a bit of a problem once he marries you. He thought he’d be having vanilla sex to produce an heir and then be back to the brothel workers.

But you’re just…. You’re so kind to him? You acknowledge his efforts, you praise him when he deserves it, you help him in a way that doesn’t make him feel stupid.

And it doesn’t even start in the bedroom either. It starts with you asking Aegon to do something small and when he does, you thank him and praise him. Aegon literally stops in his tracks when he hears that and asks you to repeat it. So of course you do, you tell him you appreciate his efforts and he’s made you very happy and Aegon has to hold back tears because he can’t remember the last time someone said anything like that to him.

From there, you start to notice how well Aegon responses when you praise him and acknowledge how hard he’s trying. So of course you keep on doing it, and pretty soon he’s hanging onto your every word, following you around and trying different things to help you so that you’ll show him he’s been good.

For the first time, he’s found someone who he actually believes he can be good for. He’s stopped trying to be good for his mother or father or brother or anyone else really because he knows he’ll never been good enough.

But you? He can be good for you, he is good for you. You make sure to acknowledge his efforts and thank him and you always offer advice and praise him for asking for help. And so, now there is a reason for him to put effort into being good, now there’s a chance his efforts won’t lead to broken hearts.

The first time you have sex after your bond has started growing, Aegon starts out bratty like he’s always done with everyone else. He assumes this is what he’ll have to do so that he doesn’t get hurt here, especially because it’s you and he knows he’d lose it if he wasn’t good enough for you.

You’re confused when he talks back, because everything you’ve seen about Aegon made you believe he’d be the sweetest little sub who’s desperate to be good. So you kinda just tilt your head and frown, asking why hes being like this.

Immediately he’s apologising and begging for a second chance and saying he thought you’d never be happy with him so he didn’t want to try. Which… you just pull him closer and tell him you’re already overjoyed with him which naturally prompts him to burst into tears.

[wileys-russo]

baby’s first christmas II m.earps x reader

part of the a date to remember universe series

baby’s first christmas II m.earps x reader

"this is nice, isn't it?" you chuckled at your wifes words, the two of you cuddled up on the sofa watching a movie, well you were.

"is it? because you haven't stopped bouncing your knee, checking your phone and looking out the front window since delilah was picked up." you smiled knowingly, mary burying her face in her hands.

"i'm trying!" mary whined with a pout, sinking down further into the lounge. "she's with your mum mary she's going to be absolutely fine. you need to get over this anxious attachment love its going to rub off on her." you moved to straddle the keepers lap with an empathetic smile.

"i know i know. i just worry baby, she's so little." mary sighed, hands resting on your thighs. "she is and i know you are fiercely protective my love but you need to trust she's okay when shes with someone other than you or i." you ran your hands through her hair which was down for once, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“you know one day she’s going to need to go to school, get a job, move out-“ your words were cut off as your wife practically tackled you down onto the sofa, covering her ears and yelling loudly to drown you out. “mary! you’re such a child.” you squirmed beneath her with a shake of your head. “she’s never ever allowed to grow up that is a disgusting illegal incorrect thought shes going to be our sweet little angel forever and ever!” the keeper warned sternly, pointing down at you with a menacing look.

“when?” your wife looked confused at the question. “what what?” she countered with a frown. “when did you learn to control time? you know normally that’s father times job, you might need to grow a beard or something to fit in. don’t know if I’d be into that babe.” you reached up to stroke her chin as she rolled her eyes and pushed your hands away.

“whose being a child now?”

"okay but in all seriousness it's her first christmas my love, this is supposed to be exciting!" you shook her lightly as she finally perked up. "okay okay mary slow down!" you laughed as your wife rattled off a million and one things she wanted to do with your daughter during the holiday season.

"oo when she gets back lets take her for a walk to look at some lights, and have hot chocolate, and watch a movie!" the keeper lit up as you nodded your agreement, tugging the taller girl down into a kiss.

"i'd also like to finish this movie if you'd sit still and stop stressing for another...hour and ten minutes." you chuckled checking your phone, marys mum due to drop delilah back off at five.

“you’ll go grey at your age if you’re not careful about your stress levels baby.” you teased, squealing as her fingers dug into your sides. “watch it, cheeky.”

to marys credit she sat mostly still, though as soon as the clock ticked five she was back into the routine of checking her phone and glancing out the window every thirty seconds, the bouncing of her knee shaking your own body which was curled up into hers.

"mary! for god sakes she's probably stuck in traffic or enjoying her time with her granddaughter." you snatched the girls phone off of her and slid it into your hoodie pocket, smacking her knee to stop it bouncing.

"you're being ridiculous, if anything was wrong we would be the first people your mum would call. now if you want to keep busy and get your mind off of it, go and get the rest of the decorations you've been promising me you'll grab in 'just a minute babe'!" you mocked, raising an eyebrow as the girl went to argue your point.

"yes love, whatever you say love." mary sighed in defeat, kissing your cheek and getting to her feet. "remember; happy wife happy life earps." you smirked as she flipped you off over her shoulder with a sarcastic smile, disappearing upstairs.

she returned a few minutes later with boxes piled high in her arms, depositing them onto the carpet near the tree as you dropped to your knees and started sorting through them.

"that was exhausting." mary complained as she collapsed onto the lounge. "baby you went up the stairs, into the spare room, into the closet, grabbed the boxes, came downstairs. you didn't even train today!" you laughed at your wife, though her chance to respond disappeared as the doorbell sounded and she was on her feet in seconds flat.

"hi julie!" you greeted the woman warmly as mary flung the door open, snatching delilah up and out of her pram cooing at her, completely ignoring her mum as you elbowed her harshly. "yeah hi mum." mary mumbled dismissively, attention completely locked on the squirming baby in her arms.

"would you like to come in for a cup of tea? it's freezing!" you offered, the woman thanking you for the offer but declining, giving you a tight hug and rolling her eyes at mary who waved but otherwise continued to ignore her.

"mary! that was so rude.” you scolded your wife, smacking her shoulder making delilah giggle once you'd put away her things. "oh did you like that bubba?" you cooed, punching your wife again and grinning at the adorable giggles that followed.

"oi! stop teaching her to be violent." mary warned, kicking you away with her foot as she hoisted delilah onto her hip and returned to the living room. "she can learn that from you sweary earps." you teased, earning yourself a filthy look.

~

"look at those! aren't they pretty lilah." you bounced delilah up and down as mary tickled her chin, both of you melting at the giggles which followed. "god she laughs at everything now!" you sighed happily, mary pushing the pram around as you wandered the streets looking at lights.

"i'm surprised she can even see given all those bloody layers you've got her trapped in, like a little burrito!" mary smirked as you pushed her with your free hand, delilah again giggling in delight. "its the middle of winter mary of course she's bundled up. don’t pretend as if you would have dressed her any differently and you've got about five layers on yourself!" you pointed out, your wife holding her hands up in the air unable to argue as she sipped on her hot chocolate.

at her request you swapped, you now pushing the empty pram as mary wandered beside you chattering away to delilah, pointing out house after house and trying to get her to speak. "say santa, santa!" you laughed at her efforts, the poor girl barely able to speak much more than a few words among her baby gibberish.

"babe i think my toes might drop off and her cheeks are quite pink, lets head back yeah?"

~

"oh that is so cute." mary squealed as you balanced a santa hat on delilahs head, the baby crawling about on the ground in front of the tree as you and your wife snapped a hundred and one pictures.

the three of you had spent the rest of the evening after dinner dancing around the house to christmas music as you finished putting up the rest of the directions, mary offering up for the two of you to host your families for christmas dinner this year which was sure to be an interesting experience.

"oh! baby i forgot have a surprise." you raised an eyebrow as your wife jumped happily to her feet with so much eagerness that she tripped on the edge of the carpet, racing off as you rolled your eyes. "mama is so silly sometimes! yes she is, yes she is." you cooed to your daughter who was sat up on the carpet in front of you with an adorably lopsided smile.

you snapped another photo of the santa hat perched on her head with her little candy cane pyjamas and sent it to both ella and alessia, getting an influx of texts back demanding more pictures as you rolled your eyes and tossed your phone up on the sofa.

between marys national and club team mates and your own friends and families there was already a small village of presents for delilah stacked under the tree, then add in yours and marys inability not to spoil her rotten and you'd needed to move half of them into the other room to save space.

"close your eyes please beautiful!" you heard your wife call out from another room as you did so, hearing her footsteps return to the room and the floorboards squeak a little as she sat back down on the carpet.

"hands out." she ordered, snatching up your daughter and sitting her in her lap as you hesitantly opened your palms. "baby its nothing bad! do you not trust me?" mary huffed at your obvious hesitance making a smile curl onto your lips.

"okay, open." you felt something round and smooth dropped into your hand as you opened your eyes again. "oh my god mary." you breathed out, the small golden bauble reading 'babys first christmas' in beautiful calligraphy.

"its perfect. i love it!" you sent her a soft smile, leaning over to reward her with a tender kiss, a pair of tiny hands wrenching their way between your mouths as you broke apart with a laugh, both of you attacking delilahs little face with kisses instead.

"i thought we could get her a new one every year and then when she's older she'll have all these little baubles and ornaments to pass down to her own kids." mary admitted as you could have melted into a puddle then and there.

“i love that idea. once she’s a bit older she can even make some of her own!” you tickled under the girls chin making her giggle adorably as both you and your wife swooned at the sound.

"not that you're allowed a boyfriend or a girlfriend or anything until you're at least thirty missy!" the goalkeeper warned the small girl seriously making you laugh. "lets get her to hang it before she goes down." you suggested, the two of you standing with mary holding delilah.

grabbing her tiny hand you held the bauble between your finger tips, guiding her hand to hang it on the tree. "perfect! just like you." mary blew a gentle raspberry on delilahs cheek who let out a tired giggle and a yawn.

"you're it! i put her down for her nap at lunch time." you patted your wife on the back and kissed delilah goodnight, collapsing back into the sofa as mary disappeared to put your daughter to bed.

you busied yourself making the two of you another hot chocolate before flicking through christmas movies as you awaited your wife to return. she did so a half hour later, having changed her hoodie as you grinned knowing exactly what that meant.

"load of washing tomorrow then?" you teased, the older girl mocking you under her breath and flopping down on top of you, her body laid out between your legs as her head rested on your chest.

"oh you know me so well." mary sighed happily as you selected the holiday which was forever her favourite christmas movie. “no quoting it word for word or you can sleep on the sofa.” you teased, carding your hands through her hair with a smile, mary grabbing a blanket off the back of the sofa and draping it over the two of you.

"our first christmas as mothers." the keeper beamed, moving so her chin was resting on your sternum and she smiled softly up at you. "the first of many baby, i love you mrs earps." you smiled softly.

"i love you more mrs earps."

[mysicklove-main]

Tanjiro Kamado hates your new perfume.

He watched Tengen’s three wives gift you the small bottle with confusion. It smelled nice, whatever the fragrance was exactly. Maybe it was air freshener or maybe it was just meant to be smelled straight out of the bottle.

But to the strong smelling boy’s horror, you sprayed it upon your skin. That recognizable, comforting scent he looks for when stuck in a crowd is now gone. Tarnished by that potent smelling liquid. He hates it immediately.

He even watched the way Nezuko, who also had a keen sense of smell due to her demon state, let out strange soft growls in confusion. It seemed to him that she also preferred your natural scent.

But how could he say anything when you look so happy spraying it on every morning. How you have a soft grateful smile on your face, while you take a deep breathe of the sweet smelling concoction.

So, for now he sits there with a strained smile on his face, waiting for it to slowly wear off throughout the day so he can be greeted with your familiar scent. He even goes as far to mention how strong and nice smelling your perfume is later in the day so you don’t feel the need to apply more. He does feel a little bad for lying.

“Isn’t this so much better, Tanjiro? I know you got a dogs nose, don’t you like it? Now you don’t have to smell me all sweaty after battle!” What is he supposed to say to that? That he likes what you smell like after harsh training? Yeah, and admit to being more of a pervert than Zenitsu. He’d rather not.

“Yep! Smells great, Y/N! Like flowers. And don’t worry about the sweat, I’m used to it!” He gives you that familiar bright smile and you kiss him on the cheek before heading out the door.

He stays in the room for a second longer, staring at the small bottle. He might as well be glaring at it. It makes him feel guilty, this was a present, and you liked it. He should have no right to feel so annoyed at the perfume.

But still, couldn’t this be a safety hazard? If your scent was covered how would he be able to find you as quickly as he does? What if it’s stronger than the smell of your blood? What if he doesn’t smell a demon because he is so distracted by how annoyed he is that your perfect scent is now ruined!

He has got to get rid of it. For the sake of his sanity and your protection.

He turns toward Nezuko who recently joined him in your room. “It’s a safety hazard, right Nezuko? I have to do something.”

She nods with a small huff and Tanjiro makes a decision. He is going to get rid of it. Cut the bottle into pieces if he must. It would be a lot more satisfying that way.

He pulls out his blade and points it to thinner part at the top where the spritzer is at. Just like a demon, he will cut the neck off and then it won’t hurt anyone anymore. He pulls his sword back to land the blow. “Tanjiro, I can make a promise that my perfume is not a demon.” You call, watching the whole situation take place as you lean against the wall with a grin.

He jumps out of his skin and turns to you with a guilt ridden face. “Y-Y/N what are you doing in here?” He asks meakly, his face flushed from embarrassment.

He catches a glance at Nezuko leaving the room. Betrayal.

“Looking for you. Heard you mention something about a safety hazard,” You hum, smug smirk on your mouth as you look toward the boy ahead of you.

“You see as someone apart of the Demon Slayer Corps it’s my sacred duty to protect you and everyone else from danger!” He reasons, knowing how ridiculous he sounds in the moment, but trying not to let it get to him.

You blink, raising your eyebrows. “My perfume is dangerous?”

He stumbles, mouth open to try to find any sort of reasoning. He fails. “Uh yes?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you know…Distracting. Cant focus on killing demons with that smell around.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “Because it smells so good?”

“No! Because now I won’t be able to pick up your scent! What happens if you get lost or something and I can’t find you?”

“Alright, that makes sense. I’ll stop wearing it.”

He continues in a ramble, “And it ruins your scent! You smell way better without it. Seriously you can even ask Nezuko!” You raise your eyebrows at him. “How am i supposed to recognize if it’s you near me or some random person if you smell—Wait. You’ll stop wearing it?”

“Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable.” You respond and he feels his body deflate in relief. He was expecting that to be a lot harder considering how much you liked the perfume. He barely had to state his case.

He sighs and brings his sword back up to the neck of the bottle. “Okay good. Shall I behead it?”

You roll your eyes with a smile. “I have a better idea.” You say, before grabbing the bottle and dropping it in the nearest trash bin. You turn back to him with a cheery grin.

He lowers his sword with a slight blush realizing how he looked. “That was a tough one. Definitely a higher rank demon. So glad I had my dog nosed boyfriend to protect me,” You tease and he looks down and puts his sword away. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile at his embarrassed face.

He glances down at you. “Let’s run you a bath”

You frown. “Why?”

“I miss your scent,” He replies with that familiar loving expression. You almost laugh at how ridiculous he sounded, but held back knowing that he was being a hundred percent serious.

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi hana! congrats on 2k followers once again and if it’s not too much of a bother, i’d like to have a mikey fluff/crack “oblivious best friends” & “stuck together” scenario/hc (whichever works for you) where it was after school hours and everyone in toman is looking for mikey ☺️ i really hope this combination is something new skjdjsjss thank you in advance!! 💕

—manjiro [mikey] sano // oblivious best friends // stuck together

☆ ˎˊ˗ KATIEEE hiiii im sryyy i took sooooo long for this my disappearance from tumblr messed things up 😔 idk how i did on this tbh !! i hope youve been doing well !! and also ur idea was so cutee wahh i hope i did it justice !! xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.5k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“...mikey.” 

“yeah?” 

“how long are we gonna stay here?” the boy in front of you hummed, thinking for a moment as he swirled the lollipop in his mouth. 

“until they find us.” you sighed at him, leaning your head back against the wall. you could hear rapid footsteps in the hallway, people running around yelling mikey’s name, unaware of the fact that he was sitting in the classroom they just passed by. 

he hadn’t given you much explanation when he grabbed you and pulled you into the classroom, though you think you have a basic idea of what was going on; all you could say was, it was very mikey.

“so, what exactly is the point in hiding from everyone?” 

“it’s funny!” he grinned, crunching down on his lollipop. “but also ‘cause the doors in this classroom are broken; they only open from the outside, so i’ve been waiting for someone to come by and open them from the outside.”

“huh?! why’d you drag me in here then? wait, how did you even do that?” 

“i dunno, but i just saw you and it was boring here by myself.” he shrugged, not seeming to think it was a big deal. “aaand you’ve skipped out on the last couple of meetings, so i missed you.” he pouted, a childish look on his face. “where were you?!” 

“mikey, i told you weeks ago that i would be busy studying for exams…don’t you remember?” you sighed. “i even texted you before all the meetings that i wouldn’t be coming!” 

“whatever.” mikey said flippantly, the same pout still on his face. “you owe me snacks for not showing up.” 

“okay, okay, just stop making that face.” you said, pulling at mikey’s cheeks. “you’re making me look like a bad person.”

“oi, stahppp, it hurtsss!” he grumbled. you eventually relented, sighing as you looked around the classroom. 

“even being here with someone else is boring. can’t we just leave and go get food?” 

“but i’m testing them! they have to know how to find their leader!” mikey insisted, crossing his arms. 

“but you’re literally hiding from them on purpose. how are they supposed to find you?” 

“they can figure that out themselves!” 

“right…” you answered, giving up on trying to make him see reason. you really were hungry; you hadn’t eaten since you had that milk bread from lunch, which wasn’t a whole lot of food. “if you’re insisting on keeping us here, then you’re gonna pay for my meal after this.” 

“ken-chin will pay for it, but okay!” 

“no, you’re going to pay for it. i don’t care if you’re broke; you deserve to have no money for keeping me here.” 

“hey, that’s so mean!” 

“yeah, and you’re being mean right now by not letting us go so i can eat. i ought to just-” you stood up from where the two of you were sitting to avoid being seen, “-let them see me and then tell them where you are!” mikey’s eyes widened, motioning for you to sit back down, but you stood firm, not moving from your spot. 

“oi, sit down! they have to find me on their own!” 

“no! this is ridiculous! i’m hungry and i shouldn’t have to be kept at school any longer-agh!” while you were talking, mikey grabbed your hand, pulling you down with a surprising amount of strength, making you lose your balance and topple over. 

“urgh, what the hell-...” you suddenly cut off your words when you realized the position you were in. 

because mikey had been sitting right next to your standing form, you had fallen right on top of him, the space between your faces being very small as the two of you stared at each other. the space between your bodies was even less, and you swore that he could feel your quickening heartbeat from how close the two of you were, (you didn’t even want to think about how you could feel the warmth from his body right now). 

you knew that you should probably be clambering off of him right now and bonking him on the head for pulling you down so hard, but for some reason, your body was frozen, not knowing what to do. on the one hand, you knew you probably shouldn’t be staying here for so long, but on the other hand, you wanted him to do or say something, anything, to make you think that he wasn’t just an oblivious teenage boy, (how could he have not noticed your feelings this whole time?!)

“(y/n)...” he whispered, his breath fanning against your cheeks due to your close proximity. 

“y-yeah?” 

“can you get off? you’re kinda heavy.” at his words, you immediately scrambled off of him, your heart beating a million beats per minute, this time due to embarrassment. as soon as he got up, you slapped the back of his head, making him yell a loud ‘ow!’. 

“that’s what you get for pulling me so hard, asshole! i don’t get why you’re so adamant about staying here!” you yelled, feeling more shame and embarrassment than anger. you leaned your head back against the wall, wondering why you thought that anything would be different this time. 

it’s not normal for best friends to have feelings for each other, so why were you mad at him? 

this time, you felt the silence between the two of you to be unbearable, almost enough to make you scream with frustration. you didn’t though, instead choosing to just have your own internal monologue until you could make it out of the classroom. 

“(y/n)-chan? what’s wrong?” 

“nothing, i’m just tired as fuck. wake me up when we get found or whatever.” you murmured, laying down on the floor, not caring about the dust and first getting on your uniform. maybe if you laid down like this, the earth would swallow you up and save you from this embarrassment. 

you weren’t sure how much time passed like that, though you were sure that the silence filled the room for quite a while, only being interrupted by draken and takemichi’s yells in the hallway. suddenly, you heard some shuffling, wondering if maybe mikey was going to give up and let the two of you finally be found. 

you’d already gone too long pretending to be asleep, so even though you wanted to see what mikey was doing, you didn’t make a peep even when you could feel him getting closer to you. 

what is he doing? 

your question was answered just a moment later when you felt his hand on your cheek, brushing some of your hair out of your face, (you were hoping that your cheeks weren’t getting flushed right about now). 

“hm, i was able to hold back this time, but you really test me sometimes, (y/n).” after that, you felt his hand pull away, leaving you in much more confusion than before. what in the world was he talking about? 

a few minutes later, you heard him opening the window to the classroom, yelling for draken. when he arrived, he started chewing mikey out for disappearing for so long, which was when you decided to ‘wake up’. 

“hmm, you finally decided to give up that little stunt, mikey?” you asked, standing up and rubbing your eyes to make it seem like you were actually sleeping. “took you long enough.” 

“it got more boring sitting there since you fell asleep.” mikey answered, shrugging his shoulders. he kept the same lighthearted expression on his face as he started to get another earful from draken.

“you did this on purpose?! we’ve got stuff to do!!” he yelled, his face twisted in frustration. “it’s been a whole goddamn hour!!” 

“sorry, sorry.” 

you walked away from the two over to the door, trying to open it just to see. much to your surprise, it opened up, not showing any sign of the locked issue that mikey had claimed it’d had earlier. 

when you looked over at him, all he did was shrug, a smug smirk on his face. 

“you little shit! it was open this whole time?! i’m gonna actually kill you this time!!” you yelled, running at mikey. he swiftly dodged you and went out the door behind you, running into the hallway to get away from you. 

“catch me if you can!!” you heard him tease in the distance, fueling your anger even more. 

“when i catch you, it’s so over for you!!” you shouted, sprinting out of the classroom after him. 

as you chased him, he looked back at you, laughing and saying something that you couldn’t catch. despite the fact that you were acting so mad at him right now, you couldn’t help but admire how the light from the sunset reflected off of his skin, highlighting his playful smile and blonde locks bouncing in the air. 

you supposed that this was fine, for now. 

(mikey ended up paying for your entire meal out of his own pocket, leaving him with 200 yen to his name).

[ethereal-pie]

bullfrog head cannons

I have seen no fics of this beautiful French man so I have done it myself

just a ramble of my thoughts in bullet point form

he is an american bullfrog, he not only looks like one but also there are tons in France

He enjoys warmth and gets grumpy if he is too cold

I feel like he doesn’t touch you all that much but adores cuddling 

If given the opportunity he will burry himself in pillows and blankets ( bonus if they are weighted) especially during winter cuz of his hibernation instinct

He will insist you join him and promise it’s very comfortable 

He isn’t slimy like his real world counterpart but his skin feels very moisturized 

He gets cold super easy and shove himself under your shirt or jacket to soak up your natural body heat 

You also don’t have to worry about it being too hot to cuddle as he is cool to the touch 

He will insist you let him put his cold ass hands on your bare back to warm them up , he will pout if you don’t let him 

Letting him do this will more then likely result in him having his head under your shirt and his face pressed into your back and his hands on your upper stomach 

He usually avoids conventional touch based pda, the most normal pda you’ll get out of under normal circumstances is a peck on the cheek 

Instead the way he shows touch based pda is by sitting on your shoulders

Although if he is super cold he won’t care all that much

 And  Unless your in a situation where being partners with him would put you in danger, he will be  fairly vocaly affectionate

He will call you his beloved and other pet names 

As well as praise, flirt and compliment you

Some of His pet names  involve your name 

He seems like a darling, my dear, love type of person

He will jokingly call you stupid ones as well 

He has a lot of running jokes with you and will tease and joke around with you all the time, he just likes laughing with you in general 

Some of your jokes might take a second to land with him in the beginning but as your relationship continues he will pick up almost immediately 

He tries really hard to be cool cuz he wants to make friends but everyone being stuck on him being a frog annoys him a lil 

He will complain about this to you at least once 

He is trying to be cool and Poetic!

When he is mad he will begin to speak in a mix of French and English but he doesn’t really yell at all, he does talk faster tho 

He will bath for hours but doesn’t like to shower 

He cannot use certain soaps or he will get sick because he will absorb the chemicals through his skin 

He likes the look of bubble baths but if he sits in them he gets sick cuz of the soap In the water 

Given his accent I assume he speaks French but I think he can speak multiple European language, due to his job 

He is very adverse to the idea of eating bugs, he isn’t scared of them but if someone offers him a bug he will be grossed out.

He is the kind of person to not only catch and release bugs he finds inside but he will have little convos with them too

You’ll hear in the other room “hello there my miniature friend.’’ And as he takes them outside “ I’m very sorry but you cannot stay here.” 

His approach to flying bugs is far different, he will take NO PRISONERS

He is very efficient with a fly swatter and knows all the concoctions to lure and kill flys fruit or other wise 

He avoids using his hands cuz of the bug guts 

If you are afraid of bugs he will find it amusing but he won’t tease or torment you, he will just chuckle at how ridiculous you look up on the counter while he captures the invader.

He is very polite and kind to everyone he interacts with unless they have done something to warrant other wise 

He will use French sayings in English  instead of the English one because he is convinced that “ they are far superior” 

Pins and needles are now ants, it’s raining ropes not animals, forget apples and trees, dogs don’t make cats.

If you use the English versions he will argue the French version is better 

“ bolt of lightning explans the felling of it, love at first sight is so bland.’’

Please convert he will find it unendingly adorable every time 

He does get cuteness aggression and will randomly shove his face into your chest and aggressively nuzzle into you whist squeezing you and violently kicking his legs and making a happy humming 

He will be embarrassed the first few times he does this 

He will get cuteness aggression from your cuteness aggression 

If you bite him he will be very confused but won’t care all that much so long as you aren’t hurting him

You will probably be taller then him and honestly he likes it that way because when you hug him he feels like momentarily  he is a totally encased by you 

You can carry him but only certain ways

No toddler hold, with one arm and him on your hip 

Piggy backs, shoulder sitting and standing are encouraged 

You can only sling him over your shoulder in emergency’s 

Same with under your arm 

He doesn’t like princess carry’s cuz he can’t hold on to much and he wants to touch with  max surface area

Carrying him by his armpits away from you has the same problem, he will struggle 

He does enjoy if you hug carry him with both arms, either his face in on your chest or resting on your shoulder 

I have made a helpful diagram ( I can draw but it’s just stick me cuz I’m lazy)

He will randomly start monologueing if given the opportunity 

He will tell you about being an assassin but only if you ask 

I think he is more likely to be with Someone who has prior experience with fighting

He feels nauseous after producing bubbles 

He will lean on or try to be touching you while he recovers 

You cannot truly surprise him, he will know something is up the moment you even begin to plan 

He knows because you act slightly different 

And hiding  or sneaking something past him is also impossible 

He has to actively try to avoid finding out what your doing 

You’ve snuck something into the garage, I guess he isn’t going In There for a while 

Hiding something behind your back, he isn’t even gonna face your direction while you hide it 

You cannot sneak up on him either 

When you try he will scare you by suddenly turning around and grabbing you 

On the other hand he has  scared and surprised you accidentally many times 

hope you enjoy and this inspires more fic to be written of bullfrog

[zhaosbin]

mr shen will see you now - s. ricky

summary: literally just the beginning of 50 shades of grey...

reader: ricky x afab reader

warnings: dom ricky x sub reader, oral (m receiving), cold!ricky, they have sex on his desk... MINORS DNI

a/n: i will proofread this in the morning also TYSM to the anon that sent this in ur sooo real

-

it was the first day of your new internship and somehow you got stuck interviewing the most affluent man in shanghai. you didn't really know much about shen ricky, other than the fact that he owns half of china and was ridiculously gorgeous. from the outside, he seems like a very stern and cold man so you were anxious the entire day leading up to the interview.

entering shen enterprises, you approach the desk lady who was dressed head to toe in YSL. you thank god you had worn a nice dress today although it was rather short, it seemed to fit the vibe of this place.

"excuse me, my name is y/n i'm here for the interview with mr shen" you say impressively composed.

to your surprise, the rather intimidating looking desk lady was actually very sweet.

"oh hello dear! please take a seat and i'll go check if he's ready" she says cheerily.

you thank her with a nod of your head and a smile while you try to keep your anxiety under control.

breathe y/n. it's just an interview like the hundreds of ones you've done before. it's just an interview...with an insanely attractive man... you cut your thoughts off when the desk lady reappears.

"mr shen will see you now" she says professionally while smiling at you.

you quickly get up to follow her into the elevators and try your hardest to push your thoughts from before away.

when the doors open you step out, half expecting the desk lady to walk in with you. you giggle out of nervousness and wave to her as the doors of the elevator shut, leaving you alone in front of his door.

gathering up any bit of courage you had left in this moment, you gently knock on the door to his office.

"come in" a deep voice says and you take one last deep breath before you open the door.

you don't think anything could have fully prepared you for this situation. not your four years of college or the three internships you had prior to this one. no. nothing could have prepared you to meet shen ricky.

you didn't think it was possible, but somehow he was even more gorgeous than he appeared in the magazines and newspapers.

hoping he didn't catch onto you openly eyeing him down, you take a seat with your pen and paper in front of his desk.

mr shen looks down at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

"h-hi my name is y/n and i'm here to interv-" he cuts you off.

"i know why you're here. i have a lot to do today so if we could get on with the questioning please" he says very straightforward.

you nervously smile and open ur notes to find the questions your company had prepared.

while flipping through all of the pages, you didn't notice the beautiful man in front of you staring at your legs, or rather, the parts that weren't covered from your short dress.

after finally finding the page with the questions, you look up at him to find him making direct eye contact with you.

"so the first question i have for you is to what do you owe your success" you say while reading the page carefully.

mr shen sighs.

"are these really the questions you want to ask me? you can look at any interview i've done before and find the answers to all of these" he says while sounding annoyed.

all of your anxiety comes back and your palms start to sweat. you haven't even been here for 5 minutes and you already pissed him off.

before you could even come up with an answer, he beats you to it.

"i want to know about you" he says sharply.

"about me? but sir i-i'm here to interview you" you mutter out confusedly.

having someone as cute and fragile as you calling him sir ignited something in ricky.

"i want to know why you chose to wear such a tiny little dress to come interview me. was it on purpose?" mr shen says almost seductively.

you had to have heard him wrong. there was no way this gorgeous man even took notice of your clothes let alone the length of them.

"i-i don't know what your talking about sir" you say gulping and biting down on your lip just a bit.

it was only a bit, but once he saw that there was no stopping him.

he motioned for you to come over to his side of the desk. you knew the interview was over at this point and you didn't really care if you got fired. maybe you did care a little, but the wetness beginning to form in your panties was all you could focus on.

you quickly get up, not wanting to piss him off even more. once you were standing in front of him, he patted his lap.

your eyes widened. he had to be joking. there was no way. there was just no way.

poking his tongue into the side of his cheek, you could tell mr shen was starting to get fed up with the slowness of your actions.

after seeing that, you immediately plop down on his lap, the skirt to your very short dress riding up your thighs a little more.

mr shen started gently rubbing your legs and you were trying to keep your breathing under control.

"are you okay with this?" mr shen asks you, for once sounding sincere with his words.

"yes mr shen. please" you all but whimper out.

"call me ricky or sir. do you understand?" he says going back to being his stern self.

"please sir. i need you so bad". you could feel the dampness from your panties transferring onto his expensive suit but neither of you cared.

after hearing this, ricky immediately pulls you in for a kiss.

the kiss didn't last very long and it was rather innocent, well, that was until he started grabbing your hair and kissing you harder.

you moan into the kiss while sliding your hips up and down his thigh desperate for any sort of stimulation.

ricky smacks your ass and you yelp.

"be a good girl darling" he says almost threateningly.

you halt your movements on his thigh and try to distract yourself by focusing on his lips against yours.

ricky pulls away from the kiss and pushes you down onto your knees.

immediately understanding what he wanted, you quickly undo the buttons to his expensive slacks.

you pull down his boxers immediately to see his cock already dripping with precum.

you waste no time attaching your mouth to his cock, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could fit.

ricky groans and shuts his eyes, grabbing the back of your ponytail to guide your movements.

"i knew you could be a good girl" he says smugly.

the only reply you could give him was a muffled hum around his base that had him jerking his hips.

after a few more bobs of your head, ricky was getting close. too close.

he gently pushed your perfect mouth off of him and made work of stripping your clothes off of you.

he lifted you up with ease and placed you on top of his desk.

having had enough of all the foreplay, ricky lines up his tip with your achingly wet core and slowly pushes in.

you both moan at the feeling and he leans in to kiss you again.

his slow speed didn't last very long and he easily switches into a much faster pace.

"fuck you're so tight" ricky groans out.

"please sir, make me cum" you try not to shout as his cock is ramming into you.

and your wish is his command.

after a few more harsh thrusts, you feel relief wash over your body. fucking you through your orgasm, ricky cums right after and let's out the sexiest moan you'd ever heard. you swore you could die.

before the two of you could even take a breath, there is a knock at his door. he places his large hand over your mouth.

"mr shen your 5 o'clock appointment is here" the same desk lady from earlier chimes behind the (thankfully) locked door.

"cancel it" ricky says sternly staring into your eyes.

you had a feeling this interview would last more than your reserved 30 minute time slot.

[foodiegoogie]

what friends are for

sirius black x fem!reader ✮ 3.95k summary: you’re an overthinker at its finest; sirius is an overdoer when it comes to saving you from you and your thoughts. cw/tags: no use of y/n, highschool!au, biker!sirius (mentioned), too long for its own good,, nothing too heavy <3 also the teachers r still called professors here bcoz yes !

note: DAMN FINALLY ive finished this 😭 tho its still a little too long for my taste .. i am kinda proud of this :> this was a recycled thoma request, but since i kind of serve to the marauders audience now,, i decided to give it to sirius 🥰 happy reading! 🫶🏼

Having an overly active brain was both a blessing, and a curse. You loved your creativity and intelligence, and they definitely showed in your report cards. What you didn't like was how often you thought about simple, small matters, and then thought about it some more, and then some more after that. You were an overthinker at its finest. Everyone who knew you well enough would agree that you were a non-stop thinking machine, and they all hoped you would cut yourself some slack and give yourself a break.

“That’s easier said than done,” you’d say to them. Oh, what you wouldn't give to stop being a self-sufficient, but also self-pitying brainiac! 

But, as they all say, old habits die hard. That is why here you are, in class, watching your teacher collect your test papers and slowly getting into the routine of asking yourself the questions—the what-ifs, did-Is, and the like. 

You were bouncing your leg up and down restlessly while chewing on your bottom lip, looking very deep in thought, when you felt something hit your head lightly. A crumpled ball of paper landed in your point of view, breaking you out of the trance from overthinking. Picking it up, you opened it and smoothed it out to see what was written inside. 

You look like you just murdered someone and are now burdened by your guilty conscience.

Despite your sour mood, you managed to let out a snort and a soft smile after reading the line. You could recognize the flawlessly cursive handwriting anywhere; it belonged to your good friend, Sirius Black. And knowing him, you knew better than to come up with a snarky reply and retaliate. Getting caught chit chatting with someone like him during class hours could land you in detention, especially now that the teacher inside your classroom was the one and only Physics Terror, Professor McGonagall.

So, you crumple the piece of paper back into its ball shape, and stuff it into your backpack. A few seconds later, you feel something hit your head again. The culprit? Yet another crumpled ball of paper, now sitting on your desk. Letting curiosity get the best of you, you open it up and read what's written.

Ok, rude? Guess you can forget about getting my help cuz I know a good place to bury a body :)

Softly chuckling to yourself, you shook your head and wondered why you were even friends with someone as bizarre as Sirius while you put the crumpled paper in your bag. For a while, you didn’t feel anything light hit your head like you expected. But just as you were about to spiral into another endless stream of self-doubt, you were hit again with a crumpled ball of paper. 

Slowly, you turned around in your seat to glare at Sirius. You meet his eyes doing the same thing, and then gesturing impatiently at you to open the piece of paper he just threw at you. You stuck your tongue out at him out of spite before finally opening the piece of paper.

Y R U NOT TAKING ME SERIOUSLY?!

The sentence was written in bold black letters, underlined a bunch of times, and the punctuation marks at the end were twice the size of the letters. Having read the ridiculous note, you let out what might have been the loudest cackle you have ever let out in your highschool life.

You hear your name called out loudly by Professor McGonagall, in a stern tone that could only mean one thing for you. It felt absolutely mortifying to have your classmates' eyes on you, seeing their pity and amusement appear on their faces. 

"You'll be seeing Mr. Filch for detention after class," She said, zeroing in on you with her piercing glare. If looks could kill, you'd have been dead in your seat by now, and Sirius could use his knowledge of good places to bury dead bodies so he could bury yours. "I hope you'll learn your lesson in your time with him." 

"I will, Professor," You replied, the embarrassment reflecting in your voice.  Great—not only were you unsure about your grade for this class, but now you had one more thing to be worried about, as well as overthink about.

Unable to take on your classmates’ pitying looks on you, you crossed your arms on your desk and laid your head down against them, hiding your face from the prying eyes of your classmates. You could not handle any more humiliations. But you also thought that nothing could possibly be worse than the situation you put yourself in.

Then, you were proven wrong.

All of a sudden, you heard your classmates murmuring around you. Lifting your head up to see what was going on, you saw a paper plane glide smoothly through the air before it landed perfectly on the stack of test papers Professor McGonagall was currently grading. 

To some of your classmates, what happened afterward took less than a minute. But to the rest, including yourself, it seemed like eternity with how carefully Professor McGonagall dropped her pen, and took off her glasses. She picked up the paper plane and opened it up, narrowing her eyes at whatever was written inside. Unfortunately, none of you ever knew what was written inside. But you all knew that it wasn't any good, judging by the twitch in her eye and the frown on her face.

"Who does this belong to?" She asked, her displeasure clearly heard in her voice and seen in the glare she gives everyone in the room. A beat passes, and suddenly everyone is pointing fingers to someone sitting at the back of the classroom. 

Though you had a hunch on who it was they were pointing at, you hoped that you were wrong; that it turned out to be some other classmate of yours who had rotten luck just like you. Then, you were proven wrong… again.

You turned around in your seat just in time to meet the mischievous eyes of your raven-haired friend. He even took the time to throw you a playful wink before clearing his throat dramatically. 

"Good morning, Professor,” Sirius began, his hand closed in a fist like it was holding something near his mouth. “This is your captain speaking. It seems like my aeroplane experienced turbulence and crashed in your area. Terribly sorry, rookie mistake! Rest assured that I'll comply with whatever punishment you subject me to for the matter." 

"In that case, good, because you'll be serving detention alongside your classmate here," Professor McGonagall nods in your direction. "I hope you'll both learn something about rudely disrupting the peace and quiet during class hours with unnecessary distractions." She smiled, although anyone could tell it wasn't to be kind. Then, she returned to her previously interrupted task of grading test papers.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed. Of course, he'd get himself into trouble, you thought. You turned to look at him, catching his attention, and mouthed the words, "What'd you do that for?"

Sirius shrugged in reply, a cheeky smile on his face before mouthing the word, "You."

—

Genuinely, you have always wondered how you managed to land yourself a place in Sirius’ life as one of his closest friends. It was one of the things you’ve thought about over and over, but have never really gotten to the bottom of. Nevertheless, you will always be grateful for having a friend like him, even if he does give you a headache sometimes.

It turns out that serving detention wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, having been assigned under Mr. Filch’s orders of tending to the flora and fauna stored in the school greenhouses. In fact, you were actually kind of enjoying it, and Sirius being with you totally wasn’t a part of the reason why. 

“You know, this actually isn’t so bad,” He remarked, spraying the lavenders with some water, a faint smile on his face. “I thought we’d be somewhere organizing Sprout’s herb collection or something.”

You laugh at his statement, “Not gonna lie, I expected something boring, too. But this is pretty nice.” You beamed at him, looking away from where you’d been adjusting potted plants accordingly where the sunlight was hitting. 

“Who knew we’d be so good at gardening?” 

“I know, right?” 

Sirius chuckled in reply, and you joined in with him, taking the time to look at him before returning to your task. He looked especially handsome whenever he laughed; eyes crinkled by the edges with amusement, his pearly whites on perfect display as he smiled. It also certainly didn’t help that on top of the black leather jacket he wore, he was wearing an apron, and a bandana tied around his hair which pushed it back to act as a headband, revealing his forehead which glistened with a thin layer of sweat. 

Sirius Black looked ridiculously handsome, and you didn’t need to think twice about that, because it was a well-known fact.

At that moment, you were so caught up in staring at him that Sirius caught you in action. It was already too late to look away and feign indifference for you as a smirk had started to make its way onto his face.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” He practically purred, his voice taking on a deeper, more flirtatious tone than usual. Your brain loses its ability to function momentarily before you quickly wracked your mind for a snarky retort. 

“How original,” You quipped, trying to hide your momentary lapse in brain function at his unexpected tone. Sirius lets you get away with it, hiding a subtle smile of amusement to himself. 

Turning back to a pot of chrysanthemums you’d neglected briefly, you decide to change the topic. “So I was just wondering,” You began, a curious lilt to your voice. “What’d you write on that paper plane you flew to Professor McGonagall?” You queried as you turned to face him again, placing your hand on your hip.

“Oh, psh, that old thing?” Sirius waved it off dismissively as he wrapped up with his task of watering the flowers. “Just a little piece of an opinion I’ve been meaning to tell her.” 

“And just what was it you were meaning to tell her?” 

Before he answered your question, he took the time to take his bandana off, wiping the sweat off his forehead with it. Then, he fixed his hair - running a hand through it and ruffling it up slightly. Inwardly, you had to admit, you almost forgot what you were talking about as you shamelessly watched him be… hot; and like he knew the effect it had on you—which he most likely did—he smirked at you. Again. 

“I told her that dogs were better than cats,” Sirius smiled wickedly. 

You gasped in horror. “No, you did not.” 

“Oh, yes I did,” He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

“You know how she feels about cats, Sirius!” 

“Precisely the point, darling.”

To some, it would seem like something off of a controversial debate, like if pineapples belong on pizza for example. But to everyone who really knew Professor McGonagall well, saying things like that was just a recipe for disaster—with disaster meaning serving detention, of course.

“No wonder you ended up here,” You shook your head in disbelief at him. 

“Buuut, like I said, it’s not so bad here,” Sirius opposed, untying his apron from the back and behind his neck. “Plus, I’ve got good company.” He winked at you before hanging the apron on one of the hooks attached to the wall of the greenhouse.

You didn’t— no, couldn’t reply to him, seeing how you were caught off guard with what he said. But it wasn’t like Sirius wasn’t good company for you, no. There was never a dull moment with him by your side. In fact, if it were someone else you were stuck with in detention, you wouldn’t have agreed with him earlier that serving it wasn’t so bad. And frankly speaking, if serving detention just meant extra time to hang out with Sirius Black, then you wouldn’t mind disrupting the peace and quiet of class hours every now and then.

Though that would certainly look bad on your report cards, so you mentally chastise yourself for even entertaining the thought. But you couldn’t deny that there was some truth behind it, at least. Or more than some.

“Let me walk you home?” Sirius asked as he regarded you with a certain gentleness in his grey eyes. You felt like melting on the spot, right then and there, as he lingered by the doorway to the greenhouse, waiting for your answer. 

But you managed to pull yourself together, and smiled at him. “Sure.”

—

On some days, you would have just taken the school bus home, and Sirius would have just gone on his motorbike. Though in the past, he’d asked you countless times if he could give you a ride home, of course, because it was quicker and more cost-efficient than taking the public transport. But with the way your face blanched at his offering, and the way you kept spewing facts upon facts about how motorbike riding was dangerous (Sirius tried to reassure you that it wasn’t for very obvious reasons), he settled for walking you home instead. 

While that had quickly become an almost regular occurrence for the both of you, Sirius always made sure to ask you first, despite the fact that he would have to go back for his motorbike parked at the school after. Knowing this, you tried very hard to kindly refuse him at first. But over time, you found yourself saying yes without a second thought.

At the same time, you refrain yourself from giving it much thought. It was simply a kind gesture from a really good friend of yours, and that was that. 

A devilishly handsome, fiercely loyal, and incredibly caring… friend of yours. 

Walking home with Sirius never fails to make you feel better after a long day at school. The both of you are instantly engaged in meaningful conversation, debriefing the events that occurred during the day. You like to think it’s a mandatory routine by how often you do it, how often it happens, and how natural it feels. It’s definitely one of, or maybe the best way to de-stress and relax after spending a whole day just studying and working. 

If only he could keep the teasing to a minimum, though. 

“I’m just saying, you know,” Sirius said, shrugging nonchalantly as he walked beside you. “You didn’t have to laugh that hard.” 

You scoff in disbelief, the sarcastic reply bubbling up in your throat. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you liked it whenever I laugh at your jokes?” 

“Never said I didn’t, love,” He responded, voice softening at the term of endearment used. “But you could’ve been saved from Minnie’s wrath if you hadn’t done that evil cackle of yours that you call a ‘laugh.’” Sirius chuckled slightly as he spoke, reminding you both of your embarrassment. 

“Okay, first of all, rude,” You shot him a half-hearted glare, a smile threatening to come alive on your lips. “And second of all, it’s your fault that I accidentally laughed out loud during class.”

Sirius scoffed immediately, taking full offense as he turned away from you. “‘Accidentally,’ she says.” 

“What? It’s true!” 

“So I suspect you must have ‘accidentally’ found me funny, too?” He air-quoted. 

You let out a sigh, feeling exasperated and slightly frustrated by his consistently witty replies. It seemed like Sirius never ran out of energy when it came to your banter, filled with incessant teasing (coming from Sirius himself most of the time, of course) and lighthearted jabs at each other. But even with your patience increasingly wearing thin with him, you found yourself looking forward to the banter every time. In spite of his knack for getting on your nerves more often than not, you liked sharing it with him. It was almost as if it was something only you and Sirius shared - intimate and unique to your dynamic.

“Whatever, Sirius,” You settled for a dismissive response eventually, rolling your eyes as you did so. Though you knew that he would take the piss out of you again for your lack of a snarky retort.

But to your surprise, the boy only chuckled in amusement, kicking a few pebbles and leaves out of the way as the two of you continued to walk. You didn’t think much of it, passing it off as a likely thing for people to do when they walk on sidewalks riddled with objects in the way. 

(But little did you know about Sirius’ true intentions, though.)

After a moment of comfortable silence, you decided to speak up again. 

“Hey, so I was wondering—”

Sirius interrupts with a snort of laughter. “When are you not?” “Please shut up and let me finish.” “Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” he said. Though with the ever so present smirk on his face, and the hint of mirth in his eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was truly sorry. “What were you wondering about in that pretty head of yours?” You paused for a moment, thinking of how to phrase your question. Sirius gave you a brief glance, curious about what you were thinking of that had you pondering like this.

“Why’d you do it?” You finally blurted out.

“What do you mean? You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that for me, love.”

Sirius earns the sweet sound of your chuckling, and he zeroes in on the slight flush that appeared on your cheeks, betraying your embarrassment.

“I’m talking about earlier, Sirius. During Physics? When you flew that paper plane to McGonagall?”

His lips formed an O shape as he came to the realization of what you were referring to. And as if the reminder was nothing but a lighthearted one, Sirius snickered to himself.

“And? What about that?” 

You sigh, internally wondering how on earth he could find such a thing so amusing. Sure, perhaps Professor McGonagall had developed some sort of fondness or a soft spot for Sirius over the years he’d acted against her in his mischief. But the fact still remained that McGonagall was not to be taken lightly to, especially not during her class. 

“I was just wondering why you would do such a thing. I mean.. it was certainly unprovoked, don’t you think?” 

“‘Unprovoked,’ you say? Is that what you really think?” 

There’s a shift in his tone this time around when he spoke, though there still remained the unmistakable, and ever so present hint of a tease in his voice. You studied his face intently as you thought of a response. 

“Yeah. I mean, whatever did you do that for?” 

Sirius sighed, though you couldn’t tell if it was out of frustration with you or exasperation. “Didn’t I tell you already? I did it for you, you daft woman.” 

You resist the urge to scoff at his remark of you being a supposed daft woman. “I thought you were just messing with me there when you said that.”

“‘Messing with you?’ Why would I—“ He cut himself off with another sigh. 

Oh, so he’s frustrated, you realized. 

“You know, for someone whose mind runs a thousand miles per hour, you can be really clueless sometimes.” 

You let yourself scoff by then, feeling indignant. “What are you on about now?” 

Sirius almost smirked at your words, and you knew that by the twitch at the corner of his lips. You tear your eyes away from them, focusing on his eyes instead. 

“Come on, you’re a smart girl. Surely, you know why I did that, and why I risked detention?”

Deep down, you had an inkling as to what he was telling you. But you refused to acknowledge it aside from the fact that it was downright ridiculous. After all, you firmly believed yourself to be out of Sirius Black’s league. Your dynamic was synonymous to one of those Paramore songs that went, “He was a punk, she did ballet. Can I make it anymore obvious?” 

And as if he could read you, and sense your inner thoughts, Sirius sighed for what seemed like the nth time of that moment. Though now it had sounded almost… sad? 

“Shall I spell it aloud for you, then?” He broke the silence, his voice deeper and tinged with seriousness. 

“Yes.” Please. For my own sake. 

He takes a deep breath first, although the both of you didn’t know for what exactly. But it felt like it was necessary for Sirius, and so—

“I did it for you, ‘cause,” He paused, seemingly trying to push the words out of his mouth. Why he was forcing them out, you didn’t know. “What friends are for, right?” 

Well, admittedly, that kind of stung you inside. For a moment—a fleeting, hopeful moment—you wanted Sirius to say that he did it for you, and that was that. Just for you. For the sake of keeping you company, and letting it be up for interpretation on whether it was done under platonic intentions or… not. 

“Yeah,” You nodded, mentally chastising yourself for ever expecting such a thing. “What friends are for.” 

Sirius is looking at you pensively, noticing a hint of your disappointment in the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, and in the way you looked away from him as you replied. He wondered why.

But, ever the one to cheer his friends up, Sirius clears his throat to catch your attention, his grey eyes glittering with mirth. 

“And besides,” he added. “You would’ve gone mad if you served detention all alone. You’re kind of a danger to yourself here, love.” He ruffled your hair playfully as he said this, eliciting a smile from you. 

“Hey! It doesn’t get that bad, you know,” You defend yourself, fixing your hair with your fingers. Sirius helps you out by tucking the wayward strands of hair, covering your face, behind your ear. 

He snickered. “Trust me, love. I know how bad it can get.” 

In truth, Sirius has always found it endearing—your knack for getting a little lost in your head more often than not. But he was also one of those people who wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you, to tell you to give yourself a damn break. So, he’ll take any chance to distract you from your thoughts. And if that meant angering McGonagall and serving detention, he didn’t mind at all. 

The rest of your walk home goes easily after that, the lighthearted atmosphere returning despite the momentary shift to the slightest, almost imperceptible indication to the feelings you harbored for each other—though unacknowledged on both sides of the party in fear of losing the other.

Although, Sirius suspects that he’ll be brave enough for the both of you one day to bring these feelings into light. 

In the meantime, he’ll let you get away with your acting aloof and coy about it. He’ll gladly wait until you’re ready to hear what he’s always wanted to tell you. 

So, as the two of you bask in the orange hue of the afternoon sun, walking down the path to your home, you don’t realize that it’s only a few steps away until you’ve reached your destination. You were getting carried away (again) with ranting about tomorrow’s quizzes, and Sirius is trying (again) to calm your anxieties, and reassure you. 

At the very same time, he realizes the increasing distance between the two of you and your home. He doesn’t make a move to tell you, and you simply don’t notice.

( ♡ )

[defectivevillain]

a heavenly, hellish housemate

pairing: Adam/Reader

The reader’s race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.***

summary: “If you’re my guardian angel, then why are you so…?” you break off. “Devilishly handsome?” The angel winks. “I was going to say ‘sleazy,’” you frown. “Okay, that’s not the right way to say ‘Wow, thank you so much for saving my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Adam, you’re so sexy and badass.'” He scoffs.

After Adam acts up yet again, Sera decides to assign him guardian angel duty. Adam is pissed, but he goes along with it and starts to look out for you: the human he’s tasked with protecting. He has no intention of ever actually meeting you, but when he saves you from death, he finds himself stuck on Earth with you.

warnings: near-death experiences, emotional manipulation, suggestive humor

author's notes: ***The reader is referred to as “dude,” and “bitch” (you can thank adam for that, lmao) but i typically use those terms with the intent of them being gender-neutral… The reader also uses cologne (but, again, smelling nice isn’t gender-specific, i don’t think…)

This fic won’t be canon compliant. Also, some of the story itself is going to be underdeveloped—in the sense that I still want this to be a “oneshot,” not a multi-chapter fic. Some big-scale things like how Adam gets to Earth and how he will return to Heaven are overlooked.

anyways, onto the fun stuff:

It’s been a long day, you think to yourself as you walk down the sidewalk. Work wasn’t particularly eventful today, but you’re still rather exhausted. You’re contemplating what you’ll fix for dinner when you see a car approaching out of the corner of your eye. You blink and your heart races as you realize it’s veering off the road and heading right towards you. It’s going far too fast and suddenly you’re frozen, trapped as the car speeds towards the sidewalk and heads straight for you in painful slow-motion. At the last possible moment, you’re shoved to the side with unnatural momentum. You fall to the ground and the car crashes into the wall—right about where you had been walking mere moments ago. You stare at it in disbelief. 

You have scrapes on your knees and you get the feeling you’ll have bruises on your elbows and arms, but otherwise, you’re unharmed. It’s a miracle—there’s no other way to explain it. By all means, you should have died in that car crash. You weren’t able to move in time… until that weird sensation, as if someone unseen had just shoved you out of the way. 

“Don’t get paid enough for this shit,” someone nearby mutters. You’re about to get up when a large shadow overtakes your vision. You look up to find a figure cloaked in white staring down at you; after a second look, you realize that he’s wearing a mask over his face. He’s looking down at you with a strange combination of interest and scrutiny.

“…Hello?” You choke out, once you manage to accept just what you’re seeing. This guy—whoever he is—is ridiculously tall and looks entirely unfamiliar. In fact, he doesn’t look human at all—he has a bright halo over his head and wings extending from his shoulders.

He stares at you in disbelief when he notices that you’re looking back at him. “You can see me?” He asks, clearly surprised. “What the fuck?!” 

“Are you my guardian angel or something?” You ask, unable to hide your suspicion. You never thought guardian angels were even real; and, even if you were to think about it, you would expect a “guardian angel” to be clothed in blinding white. This guy has grey horns, golden wings, and a positively dangerous smirk. He does have that white halo, though… 

“Ugh, fucking fine,” the guy scoffs, clearly annoyed. You’re not quite sure how he’s sick of this conversation already, when it hasn’t been more than a few moments. “Yes, I am. You’re welcome, baby.” 

“Okay,” you remark, still a little unconvinced. Admittedly, the pet-name throws you for a loop—especially when you realize the guy is rather attractive, with shaggy, dusky brown hair and gleaming golden eyes. Averting your eyes, you take a look around you, only to find that everyone seems too preoccupied with the car crash to notice you talking to this strange “angel”—if that’s really what he is. Or, even more frightening… you may be the only one able to see him. You try to collect your thoughts and one question immediately comes to mind. “If you’re my guardian angel, then why are you so…?” You trail off. 

“Devilishly handsome?” He winks. 

“I was going to say ‘sleazy,’” you frown. 

The guy crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay, that’s not the right way to say ‘ wow, Adam, thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you, you’re so sexy and badass.’” 

You stare at him in disbelief for a few moments, before deciding to push yourself to your feet. Even when you’re standing in front of him, the height difference between you both is stark. You squint at him for a second. “Are you sure you’re an angel?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. The guy seems a little too profane to be from Heaven. But, who knows? 

“Damn right,” the guy asserts confidently, blowing your assumptions right out of the water. “I’m the angel. Adam’s the name, pulling bitches is the game.” 

While you want to focus on that horrid last part of his statement, your attention is captured by his name: Adam. Is he the first human—that Adam? “You’re the Adam?” You question. “Like, Adam and Eve?”

The smug grin on the angel’s face promptly vanishes. “Ugh, this was going so well,” Adam groans raspily. “Don’t fucking mention my ex-wife, dude. She’s a real piece of work.”

“If you say so,” you acquiesce. This entire conversation is giving you whiplash. You wonder just how you got yourself into this situation. And while you’re grateful that this guy saved you, you hadn’t expected to be stuck in an interaction with him. You really just want to go home—this day has been a nightmare, and you want nothing more than to jump into bed and sleep. 

“I do say so,” he preens. Wow, this guy’s ego is extremely inflated. You’re not sure you’ve ever met someone so cocky and arrogant before. 

“Well… Thanks for saving my life, I guess?” You remark uneasily, taking a casual half-step backwards and hoping he doesn’t notice. You’ve been patiently waiting for the conversation to end, but somehow it’s still going—and you’re nearly at the point of just walking away and ignoring him. 

“You’re fucking welcome, shrimp,” Adam responds. You ignore the dig. The guy is unnaturally tall—far surpassing the height of even the tallest humans. He must be eight or nine feet tall, at least. 

“Well, I have to get home, so…” You give an awkward wave and turn to walk away. You don’t make it for more than a few steps before you notice a presence behind you. Adam is following you, you realize with dread. “Um, what are you doing?” You ask. 

“Following you, dipshit,” he scoffs, as if the question is stupid. “This has never happened before. I don’t know how to get back up to Heaven yet.”

“Great.” You groan, resolving yourself to a chaotic day. 

Why am I doing this again? You ask yourself as you stare at the angel walking around your apartment. You don’t realize that you utter that question aloud until you hear Adam speak. “Because you’re nice and hot and smart and totally my type?” 

“Nice try,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and resolutely pretending that his remark doesn’t make your heart race. He’s the type of person to flirt with anyone—hell, anything —that has a pulse. “Flattery won’t get you very far.” 

“It’s true, though” Adam insists confidently, “And you can take my word for it, ‘cause there are some real nasty bastards up in Heaven.” You watch as he continues to inspect your apartment, opening your cabinets and drawers and ultimately having zero respect for your privacy. You’re suddenly immensely grateful that you don’t have much to hide—your apartment is pretty ordinary-looking. 

“So… when do you go back?” You not-so-subtly ask, as he continues looking around without permission. 

“Trying to kick me out?” He grins, seeing through your rather pathetic attempt to hide your irritation. Adam shuts the drawer he was searching through and shrugs. “Not sure. I’ve never been to the human realm before; this shit blows.” He punctuates the statement with a heavy eye-roll. 

“That’s not helpful,” you frown concernedly. It may be no big deal for him—he has all the time in the world to return to Heaven, considering he’s already in the afterlife. But you have a life, a job, and things to do. You don’t have the time or energy (or patience) to stumble through reorganizing your entire life just to fit an angel in it. 

“I don’t fucking know!” He practically screeches, a sudden switch into extreme defensiveness. Adam must notice you watching him, because he turns around and meets your gaze. “For once. Maybe even the first time. But I know everything else, so don’t get used to it.” He’s quick to add. You’re starting to worry that your eyes will get stuck in the back of your head—from how much you’ve been rolling your eyes at his inane comments. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a pain in the ass?” You mutter darkly. 

“Without lubrication, yeah.” You don’t bother dignifying that comment with a response. You instead shake your head relentingly and tell him you have a pullout bed on the couch, to which he complains incessantly before you offer sleeping on the street as an alternative. 

Still processing everything that happened, you tell Adam you need to be alone and lock yourself in your room. Just a few hours ago, you were living your life as normal. Your guardian angel saved your life, but now he’s living here with you. You don’t remember signing up for any of this. You rub a hand over your face and try to fight off the exhaustion that has been setting in since you left work. 

Eventually, it’s late enough for you to go to bed—and you fall asleep hoping that you’ll wake tomorrow morning to an empty apartment, blissfully free of a certain angel. 

But the universe is not so merciful, and you see Adam sleeping on the couch when you walk out of your room and towards the kitchen. You try to move quietly—so as to not disturb him—but he must be a light sleeper, because suddenly he’s up on his feet and chastising you for being too loud. You head to work already feeling tired, which doesn’t bode well for the rest of your day. 

The longer Adam stays at your apartment, the more you learn about him. For example, you learn that Adam is an incessant flirt (although that was clear from the first few moments you met). You also learn that he enjoys scaring the absolute shit out of you. Sometimes, you’ll get home from work and find yourself in an empty apartment. You’ll forget that you’re housing a goliath of a “guardian angel,” until said angel seeps out of the shadows and screams at you, cackling maniacally as you regain your breath. 

Adam isn’t a great roommate, either—he’s messy, doesn’t have very many boundaries, and has no qualms about invading your personal space. He has a ton of annoying habits.  Even so, you suppose it’s not the worst situation you could find yourself in. Plus, as much as you hate to admit it, it’s kind of nice to have company when you get home from a particularly long day at work. You can vent to him about some dumbass you work with and he won’t hesitate to insult them with you. 

Although… Adam doesn’t pay you. He doesn’t have any human money. You’re not even sure if Heaven has currency, and you keep forgetting to ask. All you know is that he’s living here for free—practically mooching off of you. And, for the first few weeks, it really does feel like he’s taking advantage of your kindness—as he eats all of your groceries, never cleans up after himself, constantly plays your Nintendo Switch without asking you for permission… The list goes on. 

After more than three weeks of that rather grating behavior, you sit him down at the table in the dining room and try to establish some ground rules. If he is going to continue staying with you, he has to: (1) clean up after himself, which includes everything from washing the clothes you bought for him at the thrift store to doing his dishes; (2) write what he wants on the grocery list, so you won’t come home to an empty fridge and pantry; (3) use his own separate account for your Switch, which you so graciously made for him; and (4) limit how many times he scares you to a few times per week. 

You think these demands are perfectly reasonable, but judging from the way he stares at you for a moment before laughing in your face, Adam has never respected someone else’s rules. You don’t break eye contact with him, despite wanting nothing more than to look away from his increasingly intimidating gaze. Eventually, Adam must sense that you’re not budging on these points, because he mutters something about bossy landlords—to which you snarkily remind him that landlords have paying tenants, and that he is living under your roof for free. He shuts up after that. 

After that conversation, things get better. Slowly but surely, Adam begins to adjust his behavior to be moderately less annoying. You get the feeling that being annoying is one of his core personality traits, but at the very least you’ve prevented that from affecting your lifestyle. Unsurprisingly, the angel doesn’t follow all of the rules perfectly. Ironically, it seems that Rule No. 4—limiting how often he scares the life out of you—is the most difficult one for him to follow. The fucker is constantly appearing behind you and ripping the breath from your chest. But, you respect that Adam is trying, and the two of you gradually learn to live with one another. 

But things come to an unfortunate boiling point one evening as you’re getting ready to go out for dinner. You’ve attempted to tame your hair into something slightly more styled than normal and you’ve used your rather pricey cologne [a miniscule amount of it, admittedly]. You have your keys, your pepper spray in case your date goes awry, and your phone. You’re inspecting your closet in an attempt to decide on an outfit when you hear Adam enter the room. 

You turn around to face him, realizing that he looks skeptical as his gaze inspects your form. “Where the hell are you going?” He asks, evidently noticing that you’re preparing to leave. You suppose it is rather unusual for you to be leaving home in the evening like this—typically, once you leave work, you stay home for the rest of the night. 

“I’m going on a date,” you respond, picking out a shirt and pants and folding them over your arm. 

“A date?” Adam scoffs. “Your ugly ass? Please.”

You don’t bother acknowledging that remark, instead moving to the bathroom. You change and brush your teeth, before walking back out to your room. You’ll just pretend that your giant angelic roommate—the one who still doesn’t pay rent, by the way—isn’t here. Unfortunately, you don’t get very far, because Adam continues speaking the moment you exit the bathroom. 

“Hey, there isn’t-” Adam begins, turning around to face you. Whatever he means to say fades to obscurity as he stares at you. For a painful moment, the two of you are trapped in a tense silence. Just as it grows to be unbearable, Adam scoffs. “This is for him? Fucking Tom?” Wait… How does he know your date’s name? You squint at him suspiciously, before realizing that he’s holding your phone and evidently looking through your messages. 

“Hey, give me that-” You say with wide eyes, reaching for your phone. 

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”Adam recites, scrolling through the messages from the guy you’re going on a date with. There’s a cruel amusement gleaming in his eyes. “There’s no fucking way.” He cackles. 

You stare at him in shocked silence, forced to listen as he rips apart this guy you haven’t even met yet. “Are you done yet?” You eventually ask, when it seems like he’s losing steam. “I have to go, give me that-” You hiss, annoyed and frustrated. His grip is inhumanly tight as he clutches your phone; you have no idea how he hasn’t broken it yet. 

“No way, sweetheart,” he grins, a malicious and cruel smile. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years ,” he says, continuing to scroll through your conversation, “Besides, why are you meeting with this guy if you don’t even know him in the first place?”

That’s the whole point of the date: to get to know Tom. You try to take a deep breath and remain calm. “You’re my ‘guardian angel,’ not my mother,” you feel the need to say, when his eye contact is growing a bit too intense and prolonged. 

“Wow, strange, that doesn’t sound like gratitude,” Adam frowns, tapping a finger against his chin. 

You grit your teeth. Unless you’re able to sneak around this nine-foot fucking demon looming in the doorway—because really, he’s not acting like much of an angel right now—you’re going to miss your date. You try to make a grab for your phone one more time, but Adam’s grip remains steady. There’s no way you’re getting it back, judging from both his immensely strong grasp and the determined smirk on his face. 

Defeat sets in, followed by prickling embarrassment and fury. “You know what?” You say, your voice cracking in your frustration. “Fine. Fine. You win. Okay?” You leave your room and head out to the living room, desperate for some privacy. Adam either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because he follows behind you. You feel tears falling down your face before you can stop them. You feel so helpless. This guy swooped into your life and fucked everything up, just for his own amusement. 

“Are you crying because of that loser?” Adam asks, surprise coloring his voice. 

“I’m crying because of you!” You seethe, glaring at him. You wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve. “You ruined my night. And I genuinely wanted to get to know Tom, but you’ve fucked that up too!” This is like an emotionally manipulative relationship, you think to yourself, but without the relationship. So really, it’s just emotionally manipulative. You don’t give Adam a chance to defend himself, instead pushing past him and going back into your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

You flop onto your bed and curl onto your side, unable to stop the tears sliding down your cheeks. You know it’s a somewhat insignificant thing to be upset about, but you can’t help it. The way Adam just completely decimated your plans, with all the confidence of someone who has never once been questioned, someone who has always been looked up to and venerated and-

You huff and push yourself back up to a sitting position, grabbing the nearby tissue box and blowing your nose. You’re still furious with Adam, of course, but you’d rather just not acknowledge him right now. Even the mere thought of him now is enough to send new tears slipping down your cheeks. 

You lie awake a bit longer than usual that night, feeling unspeakably restless. Frustrated, you stare up at the ceiling and try to think about something other than the horrible evening you just had. Eventually, you drift off into sleep—albeit with dry eyes and anger still prickling at your core. 

Against all odds, you manage to have a relatively restful sleep, and you wake to the smell of pancakes wafting through your apartment. That immediately concerns you, and you get out of bed with fear drumming in your chest. Did you leave the stove on? Is  something burning? You stumble out to the kitchen, only to find Adam standing with his back to you, looking down at a griddle that you don’t remember purchasing. 

“Adam?” You ask, blinking traces of sleep from your eyes. Adam stiffens and turns around, an uncharacteristically weak smile flickering on his face before it’s replaced with his trademark wide grin. 

“Hey,” he remarks, turning around to flip a few pancakes. When Adam turns back around to look at you, you realize that the apron he’s wearing says Kiss the Cook. You feel a disbelieving laugh crawl out of your throat before you can stop it. 

“Where’d you get that apron?” You ask, knowing damn well you don’t own an apron like that. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he grins, which naturally just worries you more. You take a deep breath and go back to your room to change. When you return to the kitchen, there’s a stack of pancakes on the counter—evidently for you. You grab a few pancakes, a plate, and utensils, before settling at the table and beginning to eat. You keep yourself occupied throughout the meal with Youtube videos, but you’re still unable to avoid the tension settling in the air. 

When you finish eating, you do your dishes before thanking Adam for the meal. Before you can retreat back to the solitude of your room, Adam takes a deep breath as if preparing himself to speak. 

“So…” He starts, “This is hard for me to say………” His voice is almost entirely devoid of emotion. Before you can think about that any longer, he continues speaking. Is he about to apologize? Somehow, you doubt it. “I’m not sorry for what I did.” And there it is. You’re not surprised; you’re just disappointed. You immediately move to leave and his eyes widen. “Wait. No, that’s- Hey, I’m trying to apologize here!”

“Apologizing typically starts with ‘I’m sorry,’” you say, glaring at him. 

“Fine,” Adam says with an eye-roll, “I didn’t want you going on that date. Okay?”

“Why?” You ask. You deserve to know the rationality behind his actions—if there even was any. The angel’s eyes are gleaming (with what emotion, you’re not quite sure).

“I’m your guardian angel,” Adam reminds you, “I’m supposed to protect you from harm.” That’s a load of bullshit. You turn around again, fully intent on barricading yourself in your room and never coming out. “Hey, hey, hey-!” He sputters. Adam takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Damn it! Fine. I didn’t want you to go on that date because you’re out of his league.”

That statement only confuses you further. Tom was an attractive guy, and he seemed nice. Why would you be out of his league? “Then who’s in my league?” You sputter, feeling extremely lost. “You?” You scoff. 

“Yes!” He exclaims with so much vehemence that it startles you. “I mean, no! Fuck, why is this so difficult? Okay. Listen… I rescheduled your date with Tom. You’re gonna meet with him today, and wear that sexy ass outfit you had on yesterday.”

“Really?” You ask, still skeptical. You want to believe the angel, but you can’t help but think of his actions last night—the unflappable determination on his face as he wrecked your plans for the night. Adam got some sort of thrill out of ruining your night, and that still concerns you. 

“Really,” the angel assures you, tossing you your phone. You completely forgot he had it. You remember trying to wrench it out of his grip; when you stormed off to your room, he must’ve still had it. “Check your messages.” You obey and open the text conversation. 

Yesterday, 2:45 p.m. Tom: Looking forward to it.  Yesterday, 4:42 p.m. You: Hey, I hate to do this, but do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow? My roommate got sick and I need to look after him. Tom: Sure thing. Same time? You: Sounds good. 

“Oh,” you remark aloud, lost for words. 

“So go on your date and have fun,” Adam continues. “With- with Tom.” The latter statement is spoken with a decent amount of venom, and Adam averts his eyes with a surprisingly irritated expression on his face. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you busy yourself with preparing for the date, equal parts anticipation and something frighteningly similar to appreciation warring in your chest. You shouldn’t be holding any sort of appreciation for Adam’s actions—he was just righting his own mistake. Even so… You sigh and push aside any thoughts of Adam, instead busying yourself with preparing. When you’re finally ready, you walk out of your room and head for the side table—where your pepper spray, phone, and keys still remain from the night before. 

You glance around the space, finding Adam sitting in front of the television and playing video games. “I’m heading out,” you decide to tell him. 

“Have fun,” the angel says, not bothering to look away from his game. You take a deep breath and leave your apartment, locking your door behind you. Your date is waiting outside, supposedly.

The night passes by frighteningly fast; two hours later, you’re unlocking your front door, shutting it behind you, and trudging into your apartment with severely dampened spirits. You’re unsurprised to find Adam still playing games on your Nintendo Switch. His back is turned and you feel your throat burning. “Hey,” he says, focused on the game. “How’d it go?”

“You called it,” you murmur frustratedly. “You were right. I should’ve listened.” Your eyes are burning now too. Your voice sounds foreign to your ears. 

It evidently takes Adam a moment to process what you just said, but you immediately notice the moment he comprehends it. The room falls eerily silent and you watch the television screen for a moment. (Meanwhile, Adam is staring ahead in complete shock, surprised as to how someone could have fumbled the bag so badly.) Adam then turns around, his game entirely abandoned. “What did that bastard do?” He hisses. “God damn it, I’m going to murder him. He’s going straight to Hell!”

“It’s- I don’t know,” you choke out, placing your hands on the back of the couch. Tears are falling down your face now, despite your best attempts to keep them in. “Maybe it’s my fault.” You murmur.

“Abso-fuckin-lutely not,” Adam declares with an unreasonable amount of confidence. “You’re the closest fuckin’ thing to perfection; there’s no way in Heaven or Hell that it was your fault.” You want to believe him, but you don’t. You can’t—not after how badly the night went. 

You’re still reeling, so you decide to sit down next to Adam on the couch. For a long moment, the two of you stare ahead silently as the Animal Crossing: New Horizons music plays in the background. Eventually, Adam continues playing and you watch as he controls a purple-skinned avatar with golden eyes, black wings, and a white halo. 

Sharing the silence with Adam is nice, but you soon find it more and more difficult to stay awake through it. You’re growing tired—your exhaustion from earlier catching up to you—and your eyelids are starting to sting from fatigue. You’re leaning back against the couch cushions, dangerously close to leaning on Adam’s shoulder. Your limbs feel as heavy as bricks and within moments, you’re surrendering to the urge to succumb to the darkness and the magnetic sensation pulling you to rest your head on the angel’s shoulder. 

The next morning you wake up in your bed, despite having no recollection of walking back to your room. That particular mystery quickly fades to the back of your mind once you arrive at work, however. The day seems to drag, but finally, after a seemingly infinite amount of time, you finish your work and can go home to relax. 

“Hey,” you say as you enter your apartment after work, surprised to find the living room empty. Typically, you’d see Adam watching television at this time. “Adam?” You ask. There’s no response. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on your coat rack, before walking through the living room and into the dining room. 

To your surprise, you find your table candlelit, with boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant scattered around its surface. “Hey, you’re back.” Adam says. Despite the fact that he probably didn’t mean to scare you, the sudden reveal of his presence is enough to send your heart racing—if only for a brief moment. You still can’t quite believe what you’re seeing; noticing your confusion, Adam continues—sounding almost apprehensive. “I thought… you deserve a nice dinner, since your date didn’t go well.” He breaks off for a moment, a truly murderous expression on his face. Adam shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts, before motioning to the takeout boxes and looking at you expectantly. “Did I get your order right?” You squint at the boxes and nod; he grins. “Hell yeah! Am I the fucking best or what?”

You smile and shake your head in disbelief. You move to sit down, but Adam tugs you back. “Hey, hey, not so fast,” he admonishes you, before placing a hand on the chair and pulling it out for you. You roll your eyes fondly and sit down at the proffered seat. Moments later, Adam takes a seat across from you. The two of you quickly dig into your food and you fall into idle conversation about your day. 

When you’re both finished eating, Adam clears his throat purposefully. “So,” he starts, “I know I was kind of a dick, but you should go on an actual date with me.” He sounds forceful, but you’re pretty sure he’s just uncertain. 

“Sure,” you agree rather easily. Despite all you’ve been through—all the missteps Adam has made, especially when you were trying to date other people—you like the thought of being in a relationship with him. Adam is frighteningly easy to be around, and underneath that prickly, jerkish exterior is a person who genuinely cares about you. At least, that’s what you hope.  

“Oh hell yeah!” He fist-pumps, making you chuckle. “You’re about to get wined and dined, bitch. Get ready for a four-course meal—I’ll be the perfect fucking gentleman. Chivalry and all that shit.”

“You do realize chivalry has been dead for, like, centuries,” you say before you can stop yourself. 

Adam groans dramatically. “You know what I fucking mean,” he chastises you. And, surprisingly, you think you actually do know what he means. He wasn’t referring to chivalry in the antiquated sense, but more in the sense that every person deserves to be treated nicely. That’s a surprisingly decent perspective, coming from him of all people. “I’m going to be so fucking nice, you’re going to be falling at my feet.” You both know that is definitely not going to happen. You don’t let Adam always have his way—you don’t let him step all over you. And, maybe, that’s one of the reasons he likes you. Maybe, just maybe, he needs someone who is just as independent and stubborn as he is. 

You find yourself looking forward to learning more about this mysterious guardian angel of yours.

endnotes: oh my god, they were roommates.

y'all, i can't believe i wrote 5k words for this bastard.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

[moodymisty]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Author's Note: Part 2! I know it came out kinda fast, but part 3 might take a bit longer since it's a bit more heavy than these first 2 chapters. It will also feature much more of our spooky man than this one has. Either way, I hope you enjoy meeting our stinky little Night Lord.

Summary: A Night Lord becomes interested in you while you stand under the eyes of your Salamander guardian, and you find yourself stuck between two titans.

Relationships: Yandere Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere Night Lord

Warnings: Hints of nsfw at points, Yandere, Size differences, Very toxic suffocating relationship(s), Some knight/princess dynamics, Demeaning language, Both these guys have hero complexes, Violence blood and bruises and possibly death to say without spoilers

Word Count: 3446

You need to eat. 

When Ralkan had told you to stay you’d trusted his judgment; Staying put in your quarters. It wasn’t safe for you on your own, not with Night Lords now prowling around. At least in his eyes. You didn’t have enough information to feel either way about it, though you can't say you have no fear of astartes you don't know.

Even when you first came aboard this ship, coming face to face with astartes for the first time- even as their kind faces smiled and they gave you polite dips of their head and welcomed you aboard- you still felt the heart pounding fear of seeing towering warriors on the line between human and something else.

Floating in the vastness of space beside the Flamewrought, Night Lord ships linger around with an unnerving aura you could feel when looking out any of the large viewports. it almost was like the ships were leering, as ridiculous as such a notion sounds.

There wasn’t much you could do in hidden away in your quarters, however. You could only write so much before you could no longer avoid the growling of your stomach, and the way it aches.

You can just go to the mess hall and get something to eat, and rush back to your quarters. It's not as if you have other options in the matter; He surely hadn't expected you to just starve, or get someone to wait on your hand and foot.

You had your fill of that on Terra. You can get your own food, you aren't a child anymore. And this ship is alive and well, you aren't going to let yourself fear some invisible terror in the dark.

Having your fill of hermitry you get up from your desk chair, leaving the small quarters that have been designated as your own. It has only the basics; A bed, a desk and chair, and a few other basics for a human to live. Perhaps it isn't as grandiose as a study in your highrise on Terra, in the shadow of the gilded Imperium palace, but it is far more freeing.

Upon leaving hall was relatively empty; They hadn't felt content to put you in quarters with other baseline humans, but you were still far away from the Salamanders own barracks. You were sure Ralkan had a say in this intentional placement as your guardian.

Down adjacent halls you can sometimes see a hint of dark blue armor pass the corner of your eye as you walk, but by the time you go to look, it’s gone. You've seen glimpses of the Night Lords now that they're aboard the ship, but you've avoided a full confrontation as of yet.

Ralkan's suffocating protection has done a good job of it. However he has his duties and cannot be around you always, and you’ll take the moment to take a deep breath free of him for just a little while.

You would never say you dispised him, but his aggravating behavior has begun to make your quarters feel like a cage. You cant stay in there forever, you have to eat. You doubt he would scold you for such a thing.

When you reach the mess hall you quickly grab a heaping portion of food- anyone who notices pays no heed to the amount- and sit to quickly shovel it all down. It's less than appealing taste is like nothing else now, with how hungry you are, and you find it gone within minutes. Only crumbs are left, and finally you're full again.

You quickly get up and move to shuffle back to your quarters not moments after the last bit of food hits your belly. If you're quick and avoid too many eyes he'll never know, and you two can both continue being sweet on one another with him being none the wiser.

His heart is in the right place; It's just that his grip is far too tight.

Your feet hit the floor at a quick place, walking as fast as you can go. The halls are a bit emptier than they were earlier, but you notice your door is within sight after what feels like only a few minute trek. When you get in, you can continue to write about Commander Artellius, and your time with the Salamanders. Being in travel has made things largely uneventful, other than the edition of the new temporary allies.

You reach towards the door open it, when a voice cuts the air and nearly startles you into to the ceiling.

“Well, what is this?”

The voice is loud, with an odd accent that warps his words ever so slightly. The shadows overtaking you are massive, and they almost seem to have appeared out of nowhere.

Maybe they had been following you. You were too busy staring at your own feet to notice, worried about making it back before a fellow of Ralkan spotted you out and out.

With no other option you turn and look up, gazing over dark blue armor with dents and scratches, marked with brass edging and red accents.

Only one had spoke, but there's three here; The middle is the tallest, but the one to his right is the most scarred; And the one that spoke, judging by the way he's smiling. He's the cockiest one, clearly.

The one in the middle has skin pallid and marked, a massive, jagged scar cutting across the bridge of his nose and brow. You think his irises might be a color, brown or grey, but there’s something in them that almost seems to suck the light out of everything around him and make them almost as black as his hair. But unlike his brother, he's yet to speak a word.

Your hand hovers over the handle of your door, frozen. You've barely even looked to the third Night Lord to your right.

Stuck like prey, you jolt as you spot an armored hand begins to reach towards your face from the corner of your eye, towards your jaw, and you yelp as it clamps around your jawline. Instantly your own hands try to pull at his armored fingers, teeth gritting as he holds far too tight. The cocky one steps a bit closer and turns your face as if examining a curious trinket, before he notices something.

“She’s all bruised,” He says, his thumb shoving your cheek and pushing it.

You were? When Ralkan grabbed you last you saw him he must’ve done so too hard. You can’t feel it hurting, but you are more than used to the smattering of bruises across your skin from him. Even at his most gentle, it’s obvious he isn’t made with it in mind.

You look up at the one gripping you, watching his eyes rake over you. He laughs, a gravely chuckle that you can feel in your chest as his own rumbles. The third one simply watches, body blocking the only escape path away from the other two. He's watching, like the act of doing so is more amusing that actually joining in.

“I thought the Salamanders were supposed to be altruistic.”

The Night Lord turns your face harder, and you gasp trying to pull at his gauntlet to free yourself even a minutia. Your muscles ache, jaw yelling in pain as his gauntlet is like a vice grip around the bottom half of your face.

“Hey, careful.”

The one in the middle finally speaks up for the first time, and the one grabbing you turns to him and scowls, clicking his tongue. His nose wrinkles but he doesn't let go of you, goading his taller brother.

“What, you suddenly care? We don’t feed other people's pets.”

Reaching forward he tugs one of your hands away from your captor's gauntlet, raising it for your captor to easily see.

“Look at the clothes. I think she’s important.”

The one grabbing you scoffs and turns away, pulling you around again. His other gauntlet grabs at your other arm, and looks at your hand. His face perks considerably, and the jolt of fear it sends through you beats all others.

"Ink stains. You don't work. You're soft."

Something on his face and in his voice changes, and you try to dig your heels into the ground in some fruitless effort to stay put.

"Volya." The middle one says as your capture seems to be readying to pick you up. You can barely open your jaw to speak let alone yell, unless someone spots you, you stand no chance of getting out of where ever he's planning on taking you.

"Yeah yeah, she's important; What important person is shoved back here by all the serfs and storage? They won't notice."

You yelp digging your heels deeper, and briefly look at the one who has voiced even the tiniest bit of concern for you. He catches your gaze, and something changes in his eyes as your hands pull at the fingers that hold you.

Moments later he grabs at his battle brother’s gauntlet, the ceramite clanking against each other as armor plates collide. Your captor looks at the taller one like he's furious at just being touched.

“We’re already far out-numbered on this ship. Just leave it. Find a less important one to toy with.”

He looks at his brother for a moment, nose wrinkled and teeth barred, and you can feel the air change like a fight is brewing; But he lets you go.

“Fine.”

Taking his fellow with him the two Night Lords leave you and the tallest of the three, the one who stood up for you, alone. You rub your jaw and look up at him. He watches with an unreadable expression on his unkempt face.

“...Thank you,”

You say, and you’re surprised by the way he reacts to it. Though his surprise fades away, as he smiles. It feels like his teeth are too big for his mouth, his two sharp fangs press against the inside of his upper lip.

“It talks? A surprise.”

Whereas Ralkan is stoic and mindful, this man is the opposite; His smile is cocky and posture relaxed even in his hulking armor. His arms cross, but given the size of his chestplate, the closest he can get to fully doing so is gripping his forearms with the opposite hand.

You swallow the knot in your throat. You know that while he did chase the other two away, it's very well possible it's only because he wanted you to himself.

Though maybe it's that curiosity in you- the thing that Ralkan seems so irritated by- that has you prying for answers rather than just crying and pleading for him to let you leave.

“What is your name? You’re the first of your Legion I’ve met.” 

That wasn’t the question he expected to hear, you suppose. His face perks with surprise and curiosity not unlike a child.

“Lev.”

Ralkan told you they enjoy terrorizing the weak, only picking fights that they know they can win by overwhelming odds. You'd say if you didn't cower like prey maybe he would leave you alone, but that's impossible when Lev is a terrifying example of just how little of a thing you are, in comparison to these giants.

But he doesn't seem like how Ralkan described them on first impression, however. Perhaps he’s just hiding it so you let your guard down. Though why would he risk a fight with his battle brothers if that was the case?

“We didn't know they had any of you studious types on board. Do they keep you all locked up?” 

You're sure Ralkan would like to, if he had his way with it. Had he been less inclined to take your opinion seriously, you'd probably be chained somewhere in your quarters, right about now.

"I was, informed, to stay in my quarters until you all left the ship."

Lev snorts, his smirk lopsided. Before he has a chance to say anything more, you notice that he has blood coming from one nostril, down his lip. It’s dry, but you wonder if he was in a fight and broke his nose not long ago. The bruising around it and dipping underneath his eyes adds to the theory.

“You’re bleeding…”

You say, gesturing to your own nose. He brushes his gauntlet against his upper lip, and watches dried blood fall to the ground. He licks his upper lip, and more of the blood wipes away. You find yourself more distracted by the gesture than one would like.

“Ahh, one of your Salamanders saying things he shouldn’t have; He could throw a punch, but couldn’t take one.” He smiles at you again.

“I didn’t kill him, if you’re worried about him.” "Believe me, I wanted to. All these overgrown lot are a bunch of stuck up types. You think they'd learn to keep their mouths shut before I take something from it."

You get the hint that he's joking, as odd as that is; Salamanders don't often joke. But you also get the hint that the only reason he didn't kill the man, was that as he mentioned before, he's greatly outnumbered on the Flamewrought.

You hadn't been thinking about the Salamander oddly enough however, too focused on the purple and blue bruising scattered across the hump of his nose. Your eyebrows raise, back still pressed against the wall.

“But, are you ok?”

You mumble, watching his eyes look over you. It almost looks like he thinks you're messing with him, until he seems to realize you were serious, and his expression mellows a bit. He uncrosses his arms and reaches a hand for you, and unlike his battle brother, you don't shirk away from his gauntlet nearly as much.

He grabs your jaw much in the same way his battle brother had earlier, but soft enough that it doesn't hurt.

"You stink like one of them," He remarks, and you assume he's referring to the Salamanders. His fingers grip your chin and pull it upward, exposing more of your neck.

He looked as if he was going to open his mouth and speak more, but a voice cuts through the air and stops him dead.

“Do you not have somewhere to be, Night Lord?”

Ralkan's voice makes your heart nearly stop, though you can’t manage to pull your eyes away from the Night Lord even as he approaches with thundering footfall. Lev however does, and looks towards the Salamander who stands no more than a meter to his right. You can see his face sour as he’s forced to drop his hand.

“Perhaps. But I believe on our arrival you said we were welcome guests, can I not wander?”

Ralkan steps forward, just short of trying to shove his slightly larger body between the both of you. He reaches for you, a massive green gauntlet landing on your shoulder.

“Move along, Son of Curze.”

He gives Ralkan a look. One that while irritated, is pleased that he managed to get under the Salamander’s skin.

But the Night Lord still hesitates to leave, watching as you shrink under the shadow of your returned guardian. For a moment you fear he might start something, with the way he looks at you and follows the arm trailing up your shoulder to Ralkan.

But recognizing the fight isn't one that he's sure he'll be able to win, Lev turns away from your overbearing knight to look down at you with the same smirk he'd given you earlier.

"Another time, little Salamander."

Lev leaves. He walks past the Salamander with not even a look, and just barely they manage to not slam pauldrons as he turns away. 

When he is safely out of earshot, Ralkan looks down at you; His expression is still stoic, but you can see the anger hidden beneath it.

“I told you to stay out of their sight,” He says, gripping your shoulder tight. You attempt lightly to pull away, his grip painful, but make little progress.

“I, I’m sorry Ralkan but I had to eat. Did you want me to just starve in there?”

His gaze softens ever so slightly, but you can still tell he’s more than a little bit angry. At you, and himself. Even if he wasn’t at all angry at you, his emotions weigh still on you like lead. He takes this whole protecting you duty that he has been given so incredibly seriously, you wonder how much worse it's going to get until someone else might have to protect you from him.

Ralkan takes a kneel, coming eye to eye with you. Both of his hands now cup the sides of your shoulders, and he looks at you like he's almost pleading at you.

“Now that he has his sights on you there’s nothing that’s going to stop him until he has you.” 

Despite his unnerving look, the blood on his face from a fight that put a Salamander on an apothecary table, he didn’t seem to be the way that Ralkan had described them. 

Maybe he's lying, maybe Lev is faking it.

“It wasn't like he was going to carve me up; By the Throne, Ralkan he saved me. There was more of them, but he chased them off.” Ralkan lightly shakes you.

“They enjoy toying with things like you. Don’t assume anything.”

You take in a deep breath, your face beginning to get hot with anger. You'd said earlier that this ship was more freeing than Terra, but not that's beginning to not be the case.

“He didn’t do anything, just-“ Ralkan’s brow knits in anger and he cuts you off, speaking angrier than you think you've ever heard him. Astartes voices are booming, and his hits you in the chest as he raises his voice.

“There are Salamanders already injured because of them. I asked you to stay here because I trusted you to heed my warning, if you won’t, then I can bring you to my own quarters and lock you inside.”

You look at him surprised at his anger, and your mouth clamps shut. You're angry at him for threatening such a thing, as much as your not surprised by it, but you can't fight him. Not realistically. You look away from him and try to swallow a knot in your throat at suddenly appeared.

Ralkan, realizing he’s upset you, softens his expression and sighs. His hands slide down from your shoulders to hold your hands in his massive gauntlets. The gesture doesn't go unseen, as you look down at them for a moment. The ceramite is cold and rough on your skin.

“I want you safe. It is my duty now yes, but,”

He hesitates for a moment, before removing one of his hands from your own and cupping the side of your face. You hate that the gesture melts away some of the anger you have welled inside of you.

“I would be beside myself if anything were to happen to you. I want you to be safe for your sake and my own.”

He leans closer. In your personal space, breath fanning across your skin, he closes the gap and presses his lips against yours. You don't move for a moment, before you gently exhale and lean closer to him. His nose presses against your cheek, and you can feel the small scars of his skin brush against yours. With him so close you realizes just how warm he is, astartes always run hot but it's like his blood is fire, your lips and face feel so warm. Though it could be your own flush, body heating up.

When he pulls away from you lips separating with a soft pop, you feel some of that stuffy heat dissipate, but the burn over your face remains.

“I must remove my armor first but, will you return to my quarters with me? I will tell you all about Nocturne. You can rest there as well, if you’d like.”

He’s trying to make it up to you, you can tell. He may not be directly apologizing, but he's trying to give you something he knows you want in an attempt to be sweet on you again. You hate how well it works. If only it didn't feel like he had you trapped in a cage, bars getting tighter and tighter.

With the warmth of his lips still on your own, you nod.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Ralkan smiles and rises to his feet. He gestures for you to walk beside him and takes your hand in his gauntlet once more, and you both leave your quarters for his own.

[skyward-floored]

Dawn part 4 analysis, here we go! At it again with my ramblings.

Starting off with THE GLORIOUS RETURN OF THE MAILMAN! The moment I saw the flag I was like :O HE’S BACK!!!

(I also got the blue’s clues mail song stuck in my head)

Hey look, it’s Warriors’ money! And the inkeeper who’s happily admiring the ridiculous amount of rupees Warriors now does not own!

Rip Warriors’ money. It will be dearly missed.

Also no vacancy?? I mean, it’s possible there’s other people staying there, or it’s just a small inn, but... it kinda looks like Warriors literally bought every available room there was. Mad lad.

I (like everybody else lol) took a crack at figuring out who’s signature was who’s, based on their respective game’s Hylian texts/scripts, order of when they got there, and the OG tags on the comic. So here’s my best guesses—

1. Time is first, which makes sense based on him being the one to take Twilight to the inn

2. Hyrule appears to be next— his games don’t have a written script, but the hylian here is close to Legend’s, so I’m assuming it’s his, based on the fact that he was part of the next group to get to the inn.

3. Four is who I’m least sure about I’ll admit, but seeing as how he came with Hyrule, (and he’s the only Link left I couldn’t identify at all), I’m assuming it’s his.

4. Warriors we know for sure, since the tags say this signature is his. He gets a shout out for being the only Link who can actually write in the lines.

5. Wind seems to be next, as his hylian is very close to what’s here (his signature partially obscures Warriors’ XD)

6. Legend is who I’m going with for this one, but I’ll admit it could be Wild’s since their script is pretty darn close. But once again, based on when they all got to the inn, Legend would make the most sense to be here.

7. Sky is definitely here. His hylian is very unique compared to the others (I think it’s my favorite)

8. Wild is probably next, but same case as Legend, they could be swapped. But once again, probably not, since Wild was the last to get inside.

9. Twilight bringing up the rear! His hylian is unmistakable, and it makes sense that he’d mark his name last. I don’t think he could handle it until he woke up that morning, though I do wonder which arm he wrote it with...

(Rip Mr. Mailman in trying to figure all this out)

Moving on!

It’s gotta be close to mid-morning by now based on the light, but Sky obviously does not handle waking up at dawn well. It’ll be interesting to see if he stays sleepy during the rest of this arc, or if he'll wake up a bit.

(Side note, Sky looks so soft and fluffy here, I want to hug him)

Sky is so relatable in this update, he’s got some serious “I have no idea what’s going on” vibes. That first one he's got such a deer in the headlights look XD

The mailman is just like “you! I’ve been looking for you! Great to see you!” and Sky’s just “I have never met this man in my life” (probably forgot he actually did see him once (because he’s sleepy))

Four letters, all different languages and dialects... I’m guessing at least one Zelda based on the seal on that blue letter (it seems fancier to me), but I don’t know about the rest. I would guess Malon for one, and maybe another Zelda? Warriors or Wild or Four’s Zelda maybe? Maybe Twilight got a letter from someone in Ordon, or the Resistance!

Only thing I do know is that there’s probably not one for Sky, since he wasn’t immediately like “letter for me! :D”

Four trying to do something nice and fix Wild’s sword and this guy just laughs at him, rude 😤 At least he didn’t make a short joke, which was honestly what I was expecting. I mean I get knowing that your equipment won’t be enough for the job, but sheesh.

(Also the blacksmith’s goggles look a bit like Gondo’s in skyward sword’s, plus the ones the rescue knights wear, thought that was interesting).

(Cool pose mode: engaged)

I love this panel!! They all decided to follow Four and help him out just like they did last time, fix the sword and get Wild a good, reliable weapon.

I’ve also never noticed how similar these guy’s hair looks before, especially Warriors and Hyrule’s— if Rulie’s hair was a little shorter and blonde, it would be pretty near identical. Very interesting...

(Plus Wind has the funniest expression, he's so cute)

We interrupt this rambly analysis to bring you a brief moment of me yelling about Warriors' smile ABHDGFSFKHSBBG LOOK AT HIM that stupid cocky grin and the way he's rolling up his sleeve I'm *swoon*

Four absolutely losing it over Warriors’ jab about teamwork is SO funny, Captain you have no idea how good your joke was. (also Four, bud, you good? Little hysterical there pal)

Also he looks so happy!!! Compare that to any of the faces he was making the night before, he's doing so much better. I’m so glad he’s happy and smiling now, even if it was just at a dumb joke :)

I don’t even have anything to say about this panel. Just look at it. Glorious.

And one last thing...

MULTILINGUAL WARRIORS HOLY CROW that's such a cool trait to give him, I am in love with it now that's awesome.

An amazing update as always, it was fantastic all around <3