#and I purposefully picked these roses out for each of them

[kwaiipootatooo]

🥀NRC’s Three Roses 🥀

[scribes-of-valar]

𝘉𝘰𝘺'𝘴 𝘢 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘳

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader

「 ✦ A/N ✦ 」 I don't know what has creeped into my brain, but I've started rewatching the show and I literally wrote this in a day.

✬ summary ✬ Finally taking the plunge and ruining your friendship with Clark, you go on your first date but the next day he's acting like a whole new man. Not a good one. You don't know if your relationship can recover from his cruel behavior, but he's not going to give up so easily.

For the nth time, you stand before your mirror and find yourself dissatisfied. No outfit is right, each one is too little, too much, too slutty, not slutty enough. You haven’t even started on shoes yet, you would be in the grave before you were ready for this date. Throwing yourself down on your desk chair, you start tugging the stockings down your legs. 

You’re not sure why you thought tights would work during the peak of a Kansas summer, but you’re clearly not thinking much at all today. Head propped in your hand, you slump against the edge of your desk, fingers running idly over the scattered makeup on the surface. Even that hasn't gone right, your normal safeties failing you when you need them most. 

Maybe this was all a sign from the universe. You and Clark have been friends since you could walk, what if this stupid date was going to ruin everything between you?

Sighing, you reach for the only framed picture in your room. It’s silly, something Martha took when you were both too busy playing to see her. You and Clark, freshly five, sit around your old purple play table, the both of you covered in glitter and rocking some of the biggest tutus you’ve ever seen. You’re yelling at him in the picture, probably telling him to put his pinky up when he drinks his tea, and he’s just grinning at you.

It’s funny how that smile never changed. Something warm unfurls and blooms in your chest the longer you look at the picture. It’s Clark, he doesn’t care what you wear or if you’ve put on makeup or not. You both loved each other long before that was ever a problem, and it’s not going to start being one now. 

Sucking in a deep breath you put on the first outfit you’d picked out, a simple white sundress. You rarely get to wear it, anyway. Might as well test it out now. You check the mirror one last time just as someone knocks on your bedroom door. 

Clark calls out your name on the other side, sounding hesitant. “Sorry, um,” he chuckles and you can picture the way he must be nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I got here a little early.”

You dart away from the mirror, kicking all the clothes under your bed. You slide the makeup into your desk drawer to be dealt with later. For now, you just need to make sure that he doesn’t see what a hot mess your room is. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you tug the hem of your dress down and shake off your worries. This is Clark. Your Clarkie, the boy you’ve tormented since you were a toddler. There’s nothing to worry about. 

“You’re always early, Clark,” you tell him with a soft smile as you open the door. 

His eyes widen slightly as he looks down at you. You did purposefully pick a dress that would emphasize certain aspects of yours. The pink flush on his cheeks is entirely worth it. Your eyes are drawn to the bunch of flowers in his hand and you grin. “Are those for me?” You gush, opening your door wider for him to step inside. 

“Yeah,” he holds them out to you, blue eyes stuck on yours. “I thought you might like them.” You bring them closer to your face, taking in the faint scent of the roses. 

“I love them, thank you,” you find yourself unable to stop smiling as you drop the roses in a glass of water by your bed. After building up your hopes and anxieties for a week because of this date, you're struggling to calm yourself down. 

Turning, you find him already looking at you with a soft smile that calms your racing heart just a bit. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a while,” he tells you, taking a step closer to you. His hands find your own, pulling you into him. “Not just the date,” he amends, smile stretching wider. “Asking you out. I think our friends were getting sick of listening to me talk about you all the time.”

You laugh, “I think they were getting sick of both of us. I feel so oblivious that it took me so long to realize you felt the same way.” 

He huffs, though his tone remains good-natured, “How do you think I feel?”

“Well,” you lace your fingers with his and step closer, “we’re doing it now, that’s what matters.” He ducks down and you feel your breath stutter, but he only leaves a brief kiss on your cheek, pulling back with a sheepish expression. A gentleman through and through. 

You’d never thought that knowing Clark for as well and as long as you have could be a bad thing. But now, sitting in The Talon and awkwardly dipping your fries in ketchup just to have something to do, you’re starting to realize it is. Being with each other nearly every day leaves you wanting for conversation. You both are already so caught up on what’s going on in each other’s lives that you’re struggling not to just bring up the weather. 

Clark groans and you startle, the noise breaking through the thick silence between you. He leans back in the booth, head resting on the edge and you find your eyes drawn to the strong muscles of his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 

Clearing your throat you glance away from him and push your plate away. “I didn’t want it to be like this,” Clark mutters, more to himself than you, but you hear him anyway. 

“It’s, well,” you pause, struggling for the words. Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, you shake your head. “I just don’t know what to do when we’re like this,” he peeks an eye open and you gesture between the two of you. 

His lips quirk up and he straightens once more. “I feel like I should be able to talk to you, same as always. But I don't know what to say, I don’t want to risk messing this up.” He trails off, glancing away from you and swallowing roughly. The same dreaded panic you’ve been feeling all week is thick in his voice. 

“Clark,” you utter his name lowly, reaching your hand out across the table. He’s slow to meet your eyes. “I feel the same way. We’re being stupid because I know that nothing you could say is going to change how I feel about you.” You narrow your eyes, taking on a teasing tone, “And you better feel the same way,” you scold. 

He huffs out a laugh, larger hand enveloping yours entirely and squeezing gently, “You know I do.”

You shrug, “Then we’re just being stupid, again,” you add, rolling your eyes. 

His eyes light up with mischief, a smile spreading as he stands from his seat. You jump back slightly, surprised by the sudden movement. “I’ve got an idea, come on,” he holds his hand out and you take it once more. 

You let out a surprised laugh as he takes off, dragging you out of the Talon behind him. “Where are we going?” 

He pauses for a moment, looking over his shoulder at you. It awes you, just how handsome he is. “It’s a surprise,” he winks and tugs you closer. 

“Your surprise is… the school?” You frown, taking Clark’s hand as he helps you down from the truck. 

“No,” he defends, shooting you a sarcastic look as he closes the door behind you. “We’re sneaking onto the field, like we used to. Maybe a little jog down memory lane will help,” he gives you a cheesy smile and you feel like you might melt.  

The sun hangs low on the horizon, its fading golden hues painting the sky in soft oranges and purples. The light catches in Clark’s hair, casting a warm halo around him. Sometimes he seems so overwhelmingly perfect that you wonder if you’ll ever be enough for him. Even when you were beginning to give up hope, he comes up with something so sweet, so thoughtful, that all you want to do is kiss him. 

Swallowing down the urge, you place your hand in his and let him lead you around the side of the school. “You know, we only used to do this to mess with the football players,” you tease. “Hard to do when you’re on the team, Clarkie.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Hey, we can still tear the seams on their jerseys- just not mine.” He throws you a grin, and it sends a rush of warmth through your chest.

The familiar path behind the school is darker now, but your steps fall in sync like muscle memory. The fence around the field looms ahead, a little more daunting than normal. It’s harder to climb in your dress, but Clark gives you a boost. One so strong you nearly fly over. 

Landing with a huff, you turn to glare at him as he pulls himself over with ease. “Too much torque in the thrust, Clark,” you grumble, brushing off your hands. 

He chuckles, throwing an arm over your shoulders as you both step onto the field. “Come on, we should get down there before the sun’s gone.”

Dew from the grass seeps its way into the thin fabric of your shoes as you walk toward the center of the field. The bleachers stand empty, the goalposts stretch high into the deepening sky, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you can take a breath. 

Clark shrugs off his jacket, laying it out on the grass and motioning for you to sit. You hesitate for a moment, but then you look down at the white fabric of your dress and decide you’re okay with sacrificing Clark’s jacket.

Clark lowers himself beside you, leaning back on his palms as he gazes up at the sky. The last streaks of sunlight fade, and one by one, the stars blink to life above you. You’ve always thought the sky above Smallville was different than anywhere else. As if the stars were reaching out to you. Considering your track record with meteors, it doesn’t seem that far off. 

For a while, neither of you speak. The quiet is comfortable, not at all like the stilted silence you’d felt in the diner. You’re content just being here with him, under the vast, endless sky. 

Clark is the first to break the peace. He shifts beside you, drawing in a slow breath as he disrupts the silence. “I’ve,” he hesitates on the word, “cared about you for a long time,” he admits, voice low and steady. “Longer than I ever told you.”

You glance over at him and find his gaze fixed on the stars. His jaw is tense, like he’s bracing himself for you to tell him this was all one big mistake and you’re better off as friends. A smile pulls at your lips at the ridiculous thought and you reach toward the small space between you both. Placing your hand over his, he finally looks at you. 

“I know things are,” he pauses, “a little weird between us right now.” He looks at your hand and flips his palm so he can lace your fingers together. “But I don’t want to lose what we have. If you’re willing to make it work, I am too.”

Your heart stutters, and for a moment all you can do is stare at him. At the boy who’s always been there, the boy who, despite everything, still makes your heart race. Your smile spreads, “Of course I’m willing,” you whisper. 

His breath hitches, and then he grins, the same grin that will never fail to make you lightheaded with infatuation.

Clark was meant to be here an hour ago. You’d made plans to go to a screening of some old movies at the theater. Sitting on the steps of your front porch, head propped in your hand, you look out at the farmlands around you. He only lives a few minutes away from you, you can’t fathom why he would be so late. 

You’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt, he’s not the type of guy to just leave you hanging. But there’s something humiliating about sitting out here all on your own. The wind has already fussed and ruined the hairstyle you’d so meticulously worked on. You’d already missed half of one of the movies. And the sun is beginning to set. 

Part of you is begging to just go inside and give up, but you're more stubborn half won't give in. Clark isn't like this, he wouldn't do something like this without good reason. 

A rumble sounds down the highway and your head perks up, crestfallen look replaced with something more hopeful. Getting to your feet, you grimace at the pins and needles tingling down your legs. Walking down the steps and getting a good look at the approaching motorcycle, your stomach plummets. 

Not Clark, then, though it’s odd to see someone beside you or the Kent’s driving on this stretch of road. Your hand tightens around the hem of your tank top as the motorcycle begins to slow as it approaches your house. Heart picking up, you take a step back toward the safety of the porch. 

Maybe they just need directions or maybe…

Your brain breaks for a moment as the rider pulls into your driveway. 

Maybe they’re Clark. 

Your jaw drops as he shoots you a smarmy grin, getting off his father’s bike and striding toward you with a swagger you’re unused to. “Hiya, sweetheart." You take a step back from him, brows furrowed. 

“Clark,” you spit his name out in shock, eyes darting between him and the bike. Knowing that he’s not dying somewhere in a ditch, your anger at being left waiting surges forth. “You’re an hour late because you were busy stealing your dad’s bike?” You demand, trying to ignore just how good he looks leaning against the post of your porch in that ridiculous leather jacket. 

“Sure,” he chuckles and rolls his eyes, brushing past you and heading back to the bike. “That’s why,” he snaps, like you’re slow. He straddles the bike and nods you forward. “You coming or not?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you glance between him and the front door of your house. Again, giving him the benefit of the doubt, you choose to get on the back of the bike. Maybe this is all just one big act that he’s putting on to surprise you with something at the theater. 

He turns the key and you frown, “Helmet?” You ask weakly. He doesn’t respond, just laughs and peels out of your driveway. You squeal, grabbing on tight to his waist and burying your face in his back. 

This isn’t an act, and this definitely isn’t Clark. But whoever he is, you just got on the back of his motorcycle like an idiot. 

With every turn and rev of the bike, you prepare to feel the pavement beneath your palms. Still, as reckless and nauseating as his driving is, he manages to get you here in one piece. Though, where here is, you’re not sure. 

Clark swings off the bike effortlessly, grinning over his shoulder at a group of girls walking into the building behind him. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, about the way your hands still tremble from the ride. You’d been too busy clutching onto him for dear life to pay any attention to where you were going and you’re starting to regret it. 

The building is nothing more than dirtied brick, the faded neon sign above the door advertising beer and live music. The bass thumps from inside, vibrating the gravel beneath your feet. From within, you hear jeering shouts, the telltale sounds of a crowd on the verge of chaos.

“Clark,” despite his odd behavior, you still find yourself stepping toward him and holding tight to his hand. The sheltered life of Smallville hasn’t exactly prepared you for backwoods, seedy bars. “Where are we?” You peer up at him and the glint in his eyes makes your stomach clench with trepidation. 

“Oh,” he laughs, tugging you toward the entrance, “you’re gonna like this,” he swears. Despite the way you dig your heels into the dirt, he keeps pulling, giving you no choice but to follow him into the bar. 

The air changes as you step inside, it’s worse than you thought it would be. Thick with heat and smoke, it pulses with the heavy bass of a song you don’t recognize. Multicolored lights flash across the writhing bodies on the dance floor. The scent of spilled beer, sweat, and something sticky clings to the air. 

Your fingers tighten around Clark’s arm as he moves forward, practically wrapping yourself around him. He weaves through the crowd like he belongs here. If you let go now, you know he wouldn’t stop, he’d just keep going, leaving you all alone in a place you want no part of.  

Clark drags you to the edge of the bar and slips a crumpled twenty across the counter. Wordlessly, and without checking for IDs, the bartender slides over two beers. Clark grabs one and to your utter shock, tilts it back, downing one long gulp. 

“You gonna stand there watching me,” he challenges, “or are you finally going to let loose and have some fun?”

“No, Clark, I’m not drinking. And neither should you! You’re driving us back,” you snap, eyes darting around the seedy crowd. 

Settling the half-empty bottle on the counter, he smirks, “Relax. We’re here to have a good time,” his tone almost sounds like a threat. Have a good time or else…

His gaze flickers toward the dance floor and your heart sinks at the mischief in his expression. “And I know exactly how to help you loosen up.”

Again, he gives you no time to protest or even form an opinion before he grabs you and pulls you toward the center of the dance floor. You feel like a leashed dog, no choice but to obey. 

The music shifts into something darker, slower, a sultry beat thrumming through the air. It charges the atmosphere of the dancers and the crowd sways, bodies pressed tightly together as they move with the rhythm. 

“Clark,” you glance around at the writhing bodies and swallow thickly. “I don’t-”

“Just one dance,” he cuts you off smoothly, voice low and coaxing. His lips curl up in a gentle smile as his hands find your waist. His grip is tight but not uncomfortable as he helps move your hips into the rhythm of the song. “Trust me.”

You hesitate, but it’s easier than you thought to simply fall into the slow, lazy grind of the dance. Your body moves in sync with his, despite the apprehension tightening through you. There’s something wrong with him, that’s clear enough. This isn’t the Clark you know, this is some bold, almost predatory version of him. 

One of his hands drifts up from your waist, dragging the hem of your thin tank top up slightly as his fingers brush against the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as his grip tightens, tilting your head back. You press your hands against his chest, eyes rounding in confusion. 

“Clark,” you whisper his name, breathless from the proximity. “What are you-”

He cuts you off, voice rough and breath warm against your lips, “Finally taking what I want.” His head dips down, lips capturing your own. It’s not the soft, gentle first kiss you’d always imagine you would share with him. This is hard, demanding. 

He’s claiming you, marking his territory as he slips his hand lower on your waist. He pulls you flush against him, hips pressing against yours. A heat slowly spreads in you, but it's overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling that this isn’t Clark. 

You push against his chest and you know he lets you go, the situation still under his control. He backs off with an irritated look, eyes narrowed down at you. 

Your breath comes in quick, uneven gasps as you stare up at him. “What the hell, Clark?”

“What’s your problem?” He snaps, hand flexing around your neck before dropping to his side. 

“You,” you hiss, eyes narrowing. “You’re not yourself, Clark.”

His jaw tenses, fists clenching by his side as he takes a step back from you. “Why? Because I’m finally doing what I want?” His voice is sharp, it bites at the fraying edges of your patience. The music around you picks up pace and somebody slams into you from behind. 

With a pained gasp, you stumble forward, rubbing the sore spot where their elbow had slammed into your ribs. Clark watches it all with a bored look. Gone is the gentle, considerate boy you’ve known your whole life. This boy before you is reckless and selfish, you don’t want anything to do with him. 

His attention flickers past you and you turn to follow his gaze. A pretty blonde sways in the middle of the dance floor, hips moving gracefully as her laughter rings above the music. Without a word or a second glance, he steps around you, striding toward her with the same effortless confidence he just used on you. 

Frozen by disbelief and anger, you watch as he slides a hand around her waist, murmuring something in her ear that makes her giggle. The crowd shifts again, blocking your view of the two. It’s for the better as you suck in sharp breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

A lump clogs your throat and you rush toward the back of the bar, hoping there might be a bathroom to hide in. You just need a second away from the sweat and noise of the dancers. You stumble through a stained door and slam it closed behind you, wiping desperately at the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

After splashing cold water over your face and simply standing in there for a few minutes, you finally feel stable enough to go back outside. You’re just going to ask Clark to take you home and then you hope you never have to see him again. 

But when you return to the dance floor, heart still pounding its way up your throat, you can’t find Clark. You can’t even find the blonde. He’s acting like a jackass, but there’s no way he would just leave you. 

Right?

You rush outside, your stomach dropping like a stone when you see the parking lot. The motorcycle is gone. 

He left you behind. 

“Thank you,” your gaze stays trained on your hands, not ready to look at Lex. You feel his stare boring into the side of your head before he turns back to the road. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you called me instead of trying to get home on your own.” He pauses, hand tightening on the steering wheel as he takes in a deep breath. “But what were you doing in a place like that?”

You slump in the passenger seat, rubbing a tired hand over your face. All you want to do is go home and wash this night away. You’re hesitant to tell him the truth, knowing he might give Clark hell for leaving you there. A part of you is still primed to protect him, but the other part, the one that was just left behind, can’t care. 

“Clark,” you tell him and his head whips around so fast you’re surprised you don't hear it snap. “He was acting weird tonight. Took me there and then left with another girl.”

“Are you serious?” He demands, sounding angry on your behalf. Right now, though, you don’t have the energy for anger. “Clark wouldn’t do that.”

You suck in a deep breath and finally look at him, “The one I know wouldn’t,” you offer vaguely, ignoring his confused expression. “Honestly, I just want to get home and never talk to him again.”

Lex chuckles a little, “You don’t mean that.”

“Try me,” you snap, glaring out the window. You’re debating calling Clark’s dad and telling him that Clark took the bike. If not just for petty revenge. Just the thought of it makes you feel tired. 

“I’m sure,” Lex starts, already sounding like he doesn’t believe himself, “he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for what he did.” You roll your eyes, giving him a deadpan look. His hand lifts slightly off the wheel in surrender. “There’s no excuse,” he amends.

“No, there’s not.” The car rolls to a stop and you look out the window, surprised to already be at your house. The porch light is off, your parents must already be asleep. “I really can’t thank you enough,” you tell Lex, offering him a weak but grateful smile. 

He waves you off, “Forget it, I’m glad I could help. If you ever need anything else…” He trails off, leaving the offer open-ended. 

You nod, opening the passenger door and stepping out. You’re just about to close it when something occurs to you. Clark always gives you a ride to school, you’re not going to have a way to get there after tonight. 

“Oh,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation. 

“What’s wrong?” Lex looks concerned and you offer him an apologetic grimace. 

“I actually do need something,” you tell him, sheepish and pleading. 

Clark wakes up with a fog clouding his mind, a dull pounding behind his eyes. Vague flashes of memory flicker through the haze. The sound of your upset voice, the thrum of music, and the feeling of your body pressed against his. It makes his cheeks flush with warmth, but none of it connects for him. Everything’s one frustrating blur. 

But he can figure that out later, his gaze drifts toward the clock on his nightstand and his eyes widen. He leaps off the bed, nearly tripping as he gets wrapped up in his sheets. He was meant to pick you up ten minutes ago. 

Clark throws on the first clothes he finds, raking a hand through his messy hair as he bolts down the stairs. His backpack is nearly left by the door as he rushes out. If he could, he’d run you to school. It would be so much faster, so much easier. But that would require explaining why he could do that, and he doesn’t think you’d appreciate him springing the truth of his abilities on you this early in the morning. 

You’re not exactly a morning person. 

He speeds down the road, the truck’s tires kicking up dust as he pulls into your driveway. Throwing the truck in park he doesn’t even bother cutting the engine before leaping out. Two steps at a time, he bounds up your front porch and knocks firmly on the door. 

His foot taps against the wood of the porch as he checks the watch on his wrist. If you hurry, you might both be able to make it to first period on time. After a minute of silence he knocks again, but he’s greeted with the same silence. 

He steps back, brows knitted together, and his gaze flickers toward the front window. He ignores the feeling of being a complete creeper as he peers through the glass. The house looks unnaturally still, none of your usual morning mess as you rush to get ready on time. The lights are off and he can’t hear anything inside. 

Your parents are usually gone before you even wake up. He can’t think of anyone else who would give you a ride. Or why you would even have anyone else drive you. A strange unease coils in his stomach and another brief memory flashes through his mind. It’s not much, just a pretty blonde smiling up at him. 

Jaw tightening, Clark turns back to his truck, climbing inside and heading straight for school. He’s sure everything’s fine. You probably had Chloe or Lana pick you up. Still, even with him being ten minutes late, he’s not sure how they would have gotten to your house before him. 

Pulling into the parking lot he frowns, greeted first thing in the morning by Lex’s ridiculously overpriced sports car. It’s parked right in front of the entrance and he wonders what business Lex would have at the high school. 

The passenger door opens and you step out, your bag slung over one shoulder. You turn to Lex, smiling as you give him a sweet wave. Clark watches it all with his shoulders tensed as something sharp and hot twists in Clark’s chest. 

He watches as Lex pulls out of the parking lot, jaw clenched in irritation. He throws the truck into park and gets out, heading toward the front doors. Inside, the hallways seem more crowded than usual but he still manages to make you out almost instantly. 

You’re at your locker, pulling out books as if nothing’s wrong. As if you didn’t get a ride with Lex Luthor and ditch him for seemingly no reason at all. 

Clark makes a beeline for you, tightening his grip on his backpack as he stops beside your locker. “Hey,” he calls, forcing a smile. “Did I miss something? I thought I was picking you up this morning.”

You don’t even bother looking at him, eyes stubbornly pointed forward. “Guess I made other plans.”

The coldness in your voice stops him in his tracks. His stomach drops, smile faltering as you continue to pretend there’s anything more for you to grab from your locker. “Okay…” He exhales slowly. “Did something happen?”

You slam your locker shut and he jumps. Whipping around to face him, your eyes are dark with anger as you glare up at him. “Really?” You snap and his eyes widen in surprise. “This is what you’re doing, pretending you don’t remember?”

Clark blinks, thrown off by the heat in your voice. “I-”

“Forget it,” you cut him off. You shake your head, looking tired. “Just leave me alone, Clark. Seems to be something you’re good at, anyway.” You whip around, storming off down the hall and leaving him reeling. He wants to go after you but you’re already slipping into your English class and he knows there’s no way he’ll be able to talk to you in there. 

He hovers in the hallway, stunned. What the hell happened last night?

His mind races, grasping at the fleeting memories. There was a bar, he’s not even sure how he found that place. He was dancing with you and then kissing you. His eyes widen at that, grimacing at the blurred memory of your rough first kiss. He’d been hoping for something a little sweeter than some backwoods bar. 

He remembers you being angry at him but that’s it. There are holes and gaps that he can’t remember no matter how hard he tries. There’s only one thing that could explain the reckless behavior, the memory gaps, and the way he felt like someone else.

Red kryptonite. 

His heart sinks and his head falls into his hands. He hurt you and probably scared you. You don’t even want to look at him now. Straightening up, he runs a hand through his hair and tries to think of a way to fix all of this. 

He’s not sure he can, not when he can’t even remember what he’s done to you. 

Admittedly, ambushing you outside of class probably wasn’t the best way to go about this. But he needed to make sure you couldn’t run from him. You walk out the door, books clutched to your chest, and head down. 

Clark falls into step beside you and you briefly glance up, rolling your eyes when you realize it’s him. You pick up your pace, clearly trying to put space between the both of you. “Wait,” he calls, stepping in front of you. “One chance to explain, please.”

You stop in the middle of the hall, uncaring to the students parting around you. “Clark-”

“I don’t remember everything,” he admits, voice low and desperate as he pushes through your objection. “But I know something happened. And I need to fix this.”

Exhaling sharply, you can’t seem to meet his eye. “There’s nothing to fix.”

That can’t be true. He won’t let that be true. “Please,” he presses. “Just… one chance.”

For a moment, you hesitate, teeth pressing into your lower lip as you take a step back from him. “Fine,” you relent, sounding wholly reluctant. “We’ll talk after school.”

Relief floods through him and he finally manages a real smile for the first time all morning. “Okay,” he utters, trying not to sound surprised. “Great, I’ll drive you home, and-”

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “Lex is giving me a ride,” he opens his mouth to protest and you shoot him a sharp look. His jaw snaps closed and he sighs. “I’ll meet you at your house later,” you tell him, leaving no room for argument. 

His stomach twists as you turn and walk away. Lex, he scoffs and shakes his head. When did the two of you get close? One bad night and you’re already done with him?

The thought should fill him with anger, but it only makes his worry grow. Whatever he had done last night must have been truly awful. He hates that there’s a chance he won’t be able to fix this. But what makes it worse is knowing that it’s all his fault.

Clark’s in his room when he hears you pull up to the house. He doesn’t waste any time as he heads down the stairs. “What happened to ‘I never want to see him again?’” Clark has no shame as he listens to your conversation. He doesn’t appreciate how comfortable Lex sounds teasing you. 

“Yeah, well,” your voice loses its muffled edge as you open the passenger door. “I deserve an explanation.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Lex tells you as Clark opens his front door. Rolling his eyes, Clark jogs down the steps of his porch, heading toward you both. You turn over your shoulder, smile falling as you nod your head in greeting. 

Clark’s waited forever to finally tell you how he really feels about you. Years of pining all led to that one moment where you told him that you feel the same way. He’d finally gotten a chance with you, to be with you like he always wanted. He’s not going to let last night ruin everything. 

“Thanks, Lex,” you mutter, closing the passenger door and marching toward Clark. Lex lingers for a moment and Clark sends him a stiff smile and wave. Lex returns it with a smirk before driving off. 

“So,” arms crossed across your chest, you glance up at him with barely veiled apprehension. “Are we going inside?”

Clark glances back at his house and shakes his head. He holds his hand out to you and you give him a wary glare. “Please,” he asks, and after a moment you place your hand in his. He smiles and leads you to the barn. 

Call it nostalgia, call it desperation but whatever compelled you to actually hear Clark out can go bite it. He abandoned you at a club in a town you hadn’t even heard of. To go be with another girl, no less. You shouldn’t have even stopped to listen to him in the hallway. It’s a lack of self-respect, really. 

But there was something in his eyes that compelled you to stay. Last night, he’d been a stranger wearing Clark’s face. This morning, you saw the earnest sincerity you always do when you look into those pretty blue eyes of his. Giving in was an inevitability. 

Walking the familiar path to the barn you’re struck with a feeling almost like grief. Whatever could have bloomed between you and Clark feels like sand falling through your fingers. Unless he’s about to open those doors and reveal an evil twin, you’re not sure you could ever forgive him. 

Clark glances over his shoulder at you, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He throws the doors of the barn open and you roll your eyes at the dramatics. You slip past him and head inside, stopping short once you see what he’s done. 

Fairy lights dangle above the loft, illuminating what looks like a poorly built blanket fort. Christmas lights he clearly stole from his mom are hung haphazardly from the rafters. You can see the effort he put into making the barn feel special, even if the execution is lacking.

It’s the nostalgia of it all that makes you smile. Summer’s spent camping out in the barn, hidden away under blanket forts, and trying to scare each other with your bad ghost stories. It’s a time capsule of your childhood. And you know what he’s trying to do, how he’s trying to soften the hard edges of your resentment. You hate that it’s beginning to work. 

Clark heads up to the loft first, glancing over his shoulder and motioning for you to follow. You sigh, face blank as you work to keep up the cool exterior you feel slowly melting away. He offers his hand as you reach the top, and after a beat of hesitation, you reluctantly take it. 

Clark pulls you forward and keeps your hand in his as he leads you to sit down across from him. Sinking back into the plush pillows and blankets you prop your head in your hand, watching him with a bored expression. Sucking in a deep breath, he rubs his hands along the surface of his jeans, avoiding your eyes for a moment. 

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be in some bar.” He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck before finally meeting your eyes. “I didn’t want our first anything to be there. I wanted it to be somewhere like this, somewhere that actually meant something to us.” 

His throat bobs as he swallows. Then he leans closer, reaching across the space between you, his fingers curling around yours again. The warmth of his palm is comforting, even if you don’t let him see that. “I don’t want to lose my best friend. I don’t want to lose you, you have to believe me. What happened last night, it wasn’t me.”

Your expression hardens and you yank your hand from his, putting distance between you. Clark’s face flickers with hurt, but you ignore it. “Why should I believe anything you say, Clark? What happened last night was an eye-opener. Clearly, we’re better off just being friends.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, looking like you’ve just punched him in the gut. “You don’t mean that,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t I?”

Clark drops his head into his hands, fingers threading through his hair. His shoulders curl inward, and for a long while, he doesn’t speak. The silence between you stretches, thick with unspoken words. 

Maybe it would be better for you to just leave. Some space might do both of you good, and help you come to terms with the truth of it all. 

This was never going to work. 

Clark exhales slowly, then straightens, blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that catches you off guard. “Alright,” he nods, some internal battle going on that you’re not privy to. “Stand by the window.”

Your brows furrow and you shake your head. “What?”

“Do it,” he tells you, tone firm, and you find yourself struggling for a reason not to listen. Finally, with a reluctant huff, you get up and go stand by the window. 

The golden fields stretch before you bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. The wheat sways gently in the evening breeze. Utterly boring and un-fascinating. 

You roll your eyes, “Clark, I swear-” 

A distant whistle cuts through the air. You whip around, expecting to see Clark behind you and instead find the loft empty. Your stomach tightens and you turn back to the window. A flicker of movement catches your attention, “What the…”

You press against the window, squinting at the field below. That’s when you see him. A very small Clark waves from the middle of the wheat, far too distant for how quickly he got there. Your breath catches and you find yourself waving back without thinking. 

There’s no possible way he crossed all that in under thirty seconds. 

But he’s not satisfied with just an impressive show of speed. Clark disappears and then reappears right below the barn window. Only, he’s not alone. 

Above his head, with terrifying ease, he’s holding a goddamn tractor. Your heart slams against your ribs. “Clark!” You shout, terrified this little stunt of his is going to end with him sandwiched into the dirt. He sets it down casually, as if it weighs nothing. 

A gust of wind pushes your hair forward and you turn sharply. Clark stands behind you now, cheeks flushed, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “What the hell was that?” You demand, eyes darting between him and the tractor outside.

“It’s what I wanted to tell you. What I’ve always wanted to tell you,” he concedes, his smile faltering slightly, his voice tinged with something vulnerable. 

Still stunned, you sink onto the couch as he begins to explain. About the crash landing. About his powers. How he’s different.  

Your best friend- your almost-boyfriend, is an alien. 

Of all the things racing through your mind, only one question comes to mind. “Why have you never told me?” You don’t ask him if he was from Jupiter or Mars, or if he’s got a secret eye hidden somewhere. You just want to know why he didn’t think he could trust you. 

Clark hesitates. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore. That you’d see me as some freak.”

You snort, “You’re an idiot is what you are.”

 His head snaps up, blinking at you in surprise. “Clark, why would I ever care about what planet you’re from?” You shake your head, a smile creeping onto your lips as you shift forward, kneeling in front of him. Your hands find his, squeezing slightly. Then, hesitantly, you reach up, cupping his cheek. A smile spreads across your face as he leans into the touch. “I care about you, not about what rocket you crash-landed in.”

“More of a pod,” he corrects and you shoot him a sharp look that makes him laugh. He sobers quickly, smile fading, “I understand if you can’t forgive me for last night.”

“Well,” you muse, tilting your head. “It wasn’t really you, right? It was that krypto- karo-”

“Kryptonite,” he grins a little at the way you stumble over the word. “And, yes, it was. I would never purposefully hurt you, but it’s not an excuse.”

“It’s actually the only acceptable excuse,” you tell him, rolling your eyes playfully. “That or evil twin.” Clark’s eyes widen slightly and you narrow yours. “Do you actually have an evil twin?” You shake your head, “Never mind, we’ll talk about that later.”

You glance up at the twinkling lights strung above, the warm glow making the loft feel impossibly soft, impossibly safe. “Clark?” You ask and he hums, already looking at you when you glance back at him. “We can always try that first kiss again.”

His smile, soft and sweet, mirrors your own. As you lean in, his arms circle your waist, pulling you gently into him. Your fingers thread through the soft tresses of his hair as his lips brush against yours, soft, lingering, right. 

This. This is what you knew it would feel like. This is home and safety, everything good in your life. You smile against Clark’s lips knowing that no matter what evil twins or toxic rocks come at you, you’ll face it together.

end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[strawberrykidneystone]

the point of no return

sevika x female reader

part 2 of straight to the point

summary: it’s been 3 weeks, you’ve literally been counting on the days on your calendar and tonight is your date with sevika

a/n: headcanon that sevika stopped drinking/smoking cold turkey in the time in between episode 3 and 4

tags: date time!!!, kissing, smut, nipple play, pussy eating, cum, cunnilingus, sevika is a munch, cursing, fingering, spit

part 1

ao3 version

since you had last seen sevika, she had brought you coffee a few times a week while you were at work and stayed to chat with you in between appointments, having you thoroughly check her piercing each time to “make sure it was healing correctly”. you pulled down the front of her bottom lip with your thumb while you cupped the bottom of her chin and you swore you felt the tip of her tongue brush against your skin.

god this woman was trying to kill you.

today was finally the day, three weeks since you had pierced sevika. you were practically buzzing the whole time, even your current guest tattoo artist, willow, who had been there a few weeks teased that this was the happiest she'd seen you the whole time that she'd been in your shop. closing the shop somewhat early today after you purposefully didn't schedule any appointments after 4, you scurried up the stairs to your apartment and started getting ready for your date. thankfully, you had been planning out your outfit for about a week and it looked exactly like it did in your mind, your dress fitting you just right. you matched your makeup with the colors you picked out and added a few accessories for a final touch. almost as soon as you slipped on your shoes, you heard the doorbell at your backdoor. biting back an excited squeal as you did one last check in the mirror before you grabbed your purse and practically skipped down the stairs. you grabbed the bouquet of wildflowers out of the vase you had put together and wrapped by the front door, drying off the ends with a towel as you held the bundle under your arm.

opening the door, your jaw immediately dropping at the sight before you. sevika's hair was slicked back with her usual dark makeup on, the silver labret piercing matching the bright grey in her eyes with a matching steel chain around her neck. she wore a dark red button-up that had the sleeve cut off on her left side, the sleeve on the right side rolled up to her elbow which showed off her veiny forearm and the titanium watch on her wrist. completing the outfit, she had on smooth black slacks with thick black boots that were more than likely steel-toed. cradled in her flesh arm was a bouquet of a dozen roses that she was clutching on to for dear life.

the two of you eyed the flowers you had gotten for each other at the same time and looked back up, giggling somewhat awkwardly as you traded bouquets. you took a deep inhale from the flowers and fluttered your eyelashes at her, a blush lightly dusting her cheeks. she admired the bouquet and gave a quick sniff to the flowers, looking away as she was clearly holding in a sneeze. you covered your mouth to muffle your laugh as she sneezed 3 times in a row and rubbed the bottom of her nose with the back of her hand.

"i'm so sorry, are you allergic to flowers?" you said with worry in your voice, quickly placing the roses in the vase by your door.

"yes, but they're beautiful," she said slightly nasily with a sniffle, holding them slightly away from her face.

"how about i keep them here for now?" you offered with a giggle and she quickly agreed, handing you back the flowers that you put into the vase with your new roses. you closed and locked the door behind you, slinging your purse over your shoulder and smiled up at sevika. she meekly smiled back and cleared her throat, offering her flesh arm out to you. happily, you looped your arm through hers and the two of you walked to one of the nicer restaurants in zaun, one of the only ones that took reservations.

as soon as the two of you walked in, the hostess immediately recognized sevika and led the two of you to a table with two seats across from each other, a candle and a rose side by side as the centerpiece. the restaurant overall was lowly lit with faded flower wallpaper that was slightly peeling from the top and paintings on the walls that were most likely stolen from piltover. you're sure that someone from the uppercity would've found it dingy, but the whole place had a homey yet elegant feeling to it. a menu was set in front of each of you, the two of you chit chatting about your days and other small talk as you looked over the selections.

you tried to glance over the menu but your eyes kept flickering to her exposed forearm and her fingers curling around the cracked covers, it was enough to have you squirming in your seat. sevika wasn’t fairing much better, her eyes shifting between your lips and your cleavage, god she couldn't stop thinking about how pretty you would look underneath her. she couldn’t believe that you would agree to go out with her in the first place, seeing you all dolled up just for her made her want to forget about dinner altogether and just fuck you in every corner of your apartment.

but she wouldn’t, she’s a gentlelady.

dinner honestly couldn’t go fast enough. you almost choked trying to quickly eat which sevika thankfully didn’t notice, or at least pretended not to notice to spare you the embarrassment. when the check came, the two of you reached for it at the same time. each of you held onto each side of the check, having a stare down. sevika raised her brows and tugged it her way. you smirked and tugged it back, the two of you getting into a tug of war until sevika finally got the upper hand and held it out of your reach.

you groaned in defeat and crossed your arms, “fine, but next time i’m getting the check.”

“next time?” sevika said as neutrally as she could but a hit of hope was laced in her voice as she paid for the bill, leaving a generous tip on the bill.

“yeah… at least i hope there will be a next time,” you said softly, suddenly unsure of yourself as you looked into her eyes from across the table.

“no! i mean- yes. yes, i want there to be a next time,” she said reassuringly, reaching across the table and holding your hands in hers. you nodded with a bright smile and squeezed her hands in yours. you weren’t sure if she would feel it in her metal arm, but you squeezed both all the same.

“c’mon, let’s go,” you stood up and let go of one of her hands, lacing your fingers with hers as she stood up at your side, her ears glowing red at this point.

the two of you walked hand in hand in a comfortable silence back to your apartment to your shop/house, stopping in front of the front door and turning to face her.

“well, this is me,” you said reluctantly, suddenly wishing you lived farther away from the restaurant.

“i had a great time tonight,” sevika said with a small smile, her hand still interlaced with yours.

“so did i.”

your eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips while she was staring intensely at yours. the two of you leaned in at the same time with your heads tilting opposite ways. sevika paused less than an inch away from your face as if to check to make sure you wanted this. you leaned up and pressed your lips into hers, it was like time stopped and everything made sense in the world for once. her lips were surprisingly soft, pressing against yours with a little uncertainty that made it all the sweeter. you pulled back from the kiss first, meeting her eyes with yours.

“would you… like to come in for a night cap?” you asked hopefully, not wanting her to go yet.

she perked up with a goofy smile, “yes god, yes please.”

you giggled as you led her inside and brought her to your living room, sitting her down on the couch as you made two cups of coffee. carefully bringing two hot mugs into the room, you set them on the table and looked at sevika, who was staring at you with hungry eyes.

immediately forgetting about the coffee, you crashed your lips into hers and climbed onto her lap, your hands pawing at each other like animals. sevika’s hands tentatively held your waist, sinking deeper into the kiss with her hands trailing down your lower back, decidedly resting on the sides of your hips. you desperately pushed into the kiss more, reaching back and guiding her hands down to your ass. her touch was unsure at first, but quickly became more confident as she spread her calloused hands over the flesh of your cheeks. she groaned into the kiss as she felt you throbbing, her hips twitching upwards against your wetness. you unconsciously started grinding your hips against her lap while you clumsily started to unbutton her shirt, it was surprisingly hard to do when you weren't looking at what you were doing. sevika hummed into the kiss and pulled back breathlessly, her hands going back up to your hips, "i swear i don't usually do this on first dates."

you laughed breathily, trying to catch your breath and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, before resting your forehead against hers, "me neither."

shifting back on her lap a little, you looked down into her stormy eyes and swallowed thickly, "we can stop if you want it's totally o- hmph!"

she didn't even let you finish the sentence before she pulled you back into a kiss, softly kissing the side of your mouth before looking back up at you, "i don't want to stop. fuck, waiting 3 weeks almost killed me."

"god me too," you groaned and leaned down close to her face, about to kiss her lips before you shifted down to kiss her piercing at the last moment.

just as sevika opened her mouth to complain, you sat up straight, slipped your arms out of your dress, and pulled it over your head revealing your favorite lingerie set. she sat there speechless for a moment with her mouth hanging open, her eyes raking over your body as if it were carved out of the finest marble. all she could make out was a small "wow'' as she admired your body, a blush spreading over your cheeks as you covered your chest with your arms, “don’t stare.”

“can’t help it baby, you’re gorgeous,” she purred and softly moved your arms away from your chest. unbuttoning the rest of her shirt, she threw it off to who knows where and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the contrast of her exposed skin to the bright gold of her chem-tech arm.

with your eyes flickering from her chest back up to her face while you unconsciously leaned forward, “can i? please?”

“‘course pretty girl,” she said with a chuckle, shifting her back against the couch. your heart beat out of your chest as you reached around her torso and unhooked her black bra, dropping it to the side without paying attention with your eyes on her breasts. you were practically salivating and licked your lips, cupping her breasts in your hands with a light squeeze. leaning forward and licking around her right areola, she let out a satisfied sigh as you finally put your warm mouth on her perked nipple. lightly biting down, you pulled your head back, sevika gasping and arching her back with her flesh hand flying up to grasp the back of your head. you gave a small peck to the pointed tip and turned your attention to the other side, rolling your tongue over her neglected bud. sevika was letting out the most sinful groans, a surprised gasp whenever your teeth grazed her sensitive nipples. reaching down one hand, you cupped her sex in your hand and started rubbing her through her slacks. her hips bucked up at the sudden contact, her feet planting into the floor and thrusting up into your soft touch.

pulling off of her nipple with a satisfying ‘pop’, you kissed up her sternum and came face to face with her, taking a moment to imprint her flushed face into your mind. she cupped your face with both hands, the stark contrast of her warm skin with the cold metal sending a shiver down your spine. a small glance at your lips was your only warning before her her lips pressed into yours so deeply it made your head spin.

before you could even think, she manhandled you to lying on your back on the couch. kissing up the side of your calf, she reached down and hooked her fingers into the side of your panties, throwing them off behind the couch. your thighs were shyly pressed together, looking over your legs at the woman kneeling in front of you like a holy altar.

“open your legs for me baby, wanna see that pretty pussy,” she cooed and easily pried your legs apart, your mind turning to mush at her sweet words.

“god you’re soaked,” she praised as she studied how your folds gleamed in the dim light of your living room, licking her lips before diving in face first.

the room quickly filled with filthy slurping and sucking noises as she tortured your folds, your clit pulsing with need as she purposefully ignored her where you wanted her mouth most.

"sev please," you whined and reached a hand down to the back of her head while groping your tit with your non-dominant hand. she hummed against your head and stuck her tongue out, lightly brushing the tip against your protruding clit. your hips twitched up against the small touch, desperate for more of her mouth to devour you as much as she wanted to. she pulled back her tongue with a chuckle, her warm breath causing goosebumps to form on your legs.

"well, since you asked so nicely," she cooed and teasingly blew air onto your sensitive, making you squirm in such a cute way that made sevika want to tease you even more.

but not tonight, tonight you would get everything you wanted, she was going to make damn sure of that.

she softly rubbed the tip of her nose into your bush before directly sucking on your clit, her cheeks hallowing out with a few air pockets making you blush at the blunt suction noises. her hands hooked under your thighs and pushed your thighs up against your stomach, exposing your dripping vulva to her entire mouth. she licked a strip up from your entrance all the way up to your clitoral hood and waggled her tongue around. she pulled back a little and spit directly onto your clit before slurping up the mixture of her saliva and your arousal fluids. your hand grasped at her hair, sevika laying her tongue flat between your lips as you started to buck against her tongue. she built up another glob of saliva in her mouth and slowly dripped it down directly onto your clit, watching it slide down your drenched folds. unhooking her flesh hand from under your thigh, she scooped up her spit with her ring finger and middle finger, rubbing in between your swollen lips while her tongue rubbed figure eights against your button of nerves. she sunk her fingers into your heat up to the first knuckle, a stifled gasp leaving your lips as she slowly eased her fingers fully into your tight walls. shallowly starting to thrust her fingers, she moaned into your fluttering pussy as you clenched around her thick fingers. you were a mindless moaning mess, her cold metal arm against your hot skin keeping you grounded as the woman in between your legs expertly worked her fingers and mouth against your cunt.

"s-sev! close!" you barely choked out as her fingers curled inside of you, a hum of acknowledgment vibrating against your soaked sex, her metal arm squeezing your thigh with her sharp fingers digging into your skin. your back arched off of the couch as you reached your orgasm, your mouth hung open in slight shock of your intense high. sevika softly licked up your cum, avoiding your clit as your chest heaved.

"fuck," you sighed out with a breathy chuckle, looking down at how pretty sevika's stoic appearance suddenly looked disheveled laying between your legs. she placed a few pecks to your thigh and slipped her fingers out of your fluttering walls before attacking your clit with her tongue once again, a surprised gasp falling from your lips.

"t-too much vika," you mewled as you weakly tried to push her head away, wiggling in her iron-hard grasp.

“more,” she insisted, muffled against your sex and she shook her head from side to side while burying her mouth inside of your puffy lips. she shamelessly stared up at you with those grey eyes that were usually so light, now a darker shade that you couldn't look away from. her tongue continued its assault on your overly sensitive bundle of nerves that had you cumming again in no time, your upper body jolting as your second orgasm ripped through your body. your legs were trembling in her hold and your shaky breaths filled the room, sevika finally withdrawing from between your legs.

the sheen of your juices covered the entire lower half of her face, making your face flush even more than it already was. you pulled her up towards you and kissed her desperately, tasting yourself on her lips as she moved her overworked mouth against yours. wanting to return the favor, you reach down the front of her pants and slipped your hand into her soft boxers.

“oh you don’t-” she stuttered out and cut herself off as your hand dove into the front of her boxers. your eyes widened slightly as you felt the familiar cream between her legs, realizing that she had orgasmed simply by eating you out.

“i-”

“that’s so fucking hot," you said breathily and pulled her into a deep kiss, swearing you heard a small whine leave her lips. parting your lips, she quickly pushed her tongue into your mouth and swirled her tongue around, not unlike how she was torturing your clit only a few moments before. you gave her clit a few teasing circles before taking your hand out, pulling back from the kiss, and sticking your fingers into your mouth. sevika bit her lip to hold back and groan and pressed kisses along your jaw to avoid your teasing gaze. you giggled and took your fingers out of your mouth, using your other hand to brush her tussled hair out of her face.

after convincing sevika that you could clean up in the morning, you led her to your bedroom and told her to get comfortable while you cleaned yourself up. she protested, insisting that she should be the one cleaning you up, but quickly subsided when you pressed another sweet kiss to her lips. cleaning up the mess between your legs and freshening up a bit, you walked back into the room with a warm wet towel in your hand. sevika had finally taken her pants and boxers off, sitting on the side of the bed waiting for you. smiling softly, you walked up to her and cupped the side of her cheek with one hand, her head immediately leaning into your touch, while your other softly cleaned between her legs. you tossed the washcloth into your hamper and jumped onto the bed. you laid on your side and opened your arms to her, sevika cracking a smile as she laid with you, her head on your chest with her arms securely around your waist.

“was it worth the 3 weeks?” you asked with a slight teasing tone in your voice as you played with her hair.

“yes, but please don’t make me wait that long ever again.”

"deal," you said with a giggle and kissed the top of her head, pulling her impossibly closer to you as the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

part 3 coming soon

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all @prettysupplicant @jellysaidshit @ohboi @samiraisderanged @mekakitsune @444fernz @vintage-karma

[just-jordie-things]

blue orchids and white lies - nanami kento

word count: 5.2k warnings: none ? summary: nanami's never cared much for flowers until he steps foot in her shop and suddenly he's an avid gift giver of luxurious bouquets. a/n: this is for the anon that sent me a brainrot so good i blacked out, wrote this, and will prolly receive hate in the future as it's the only nanami piece i will (probably) ever write </3 ___

The first time Nanami Kento steps foot into that tiny flower shop, he treats it more as an errand than anything else.

Shoko was throwing a little get-together later that evening- something about a creepy discovery she’d made during an autopsy that excited her, truthfully Nanami tried not to pay too much attention to the gruesome details she’d shared- and he didn’t want to show up empty handed.  Utahime had already declared she was bringing the champagne, Gojo covered the catering from some fine dining restaurant Nanami had never even heard of, and it seemed as though flowers were the best he could come up with.

Still, being the thoughtful gentleman he was, he figured he might as well splurge on a well crafted bouquet, rather than the cheap banded wilting things at the grocery store.

Despite being right next door to his favorite bakery in Tokyo, he’d never had an interest to poke around the little shop.  There had never really been an occasion for him to buy flowers, and he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to pick some up just to freshen up his office or dining room table.  If anything, once the little bell above the door jingles to signal his entry, he feels incredibly out of place.  The shop is tiny, and covered nearly ceiling to floor in bright blooms of plants he’s never even seen before.

A soft but cheery “Welcome in!” comes from the wall where there are two clerks working away with nothing short of joy on their faces.  The first is cashing someone out at the register, handing over a plastic wrapped bundle of what he assumes are tulips but he’s not quite sure.  The other being the one who greeted him, and-

Nanami freezes, which is out of character enough to make his face feel warm and his heart stutter in his chest.  The other clerk, a woman who seemed to be playing rather than working on the bouquet before her.  As quick as she was to welcome the new customer, she was just as quick to return to rearranging the bundle of purple and white flowers before her.  She doesn’t even seem to notice the way Nanami stands in the doorway struck by awe as he watches her over-analyze the way each petal pushes against one another.

After a second too long of staring he realizes how creepy he’s being, and he makes a beeline for the opposite side of the shop, hoping no one around caught the way he’d shamelessly stared at a complete stranger, much less a woman simply trying to do her job.  She didn’t need some random customer ogling her- he wasn’t Gojo.

He pretends to glance over the array of pre-arranged bouquets on the far wall.  Pretend, as in technically he’s looking at them but he’s not really paying any attention.  His mind is still buzzing with that lingering haze of love at first sight wondrous surprise.  Eventually he settles for an arrangement of red roses.  Roses were always a safe bet to go with, right? It’s not like Shoko screamed ‘flower lover’ in her offputting demeanor.  As he’s carrying the bouquet to the front, he’s starting to second guess the whole thing.

Shoko would definitely smirk in his face for bringing such a silly gift to her party.  She’d probably start laughing if he told her that he was purposefully waiting for the pretty clerk who’d greeted him to cash him out- wait, what-?

“All set?” 

He tries to cover the way his eyes widen when she slides the project in her vase aside and beckons him to step up to his counter.  The other counter was completely open, and he could feel the way the second clerk stared at him in bewilderment as he’d ignored the universal sign for ‘my register is open’.  But Nanami is not as smooth as he’d like to be, and he can tell by the uptick in the corner of her mouth that she’s amused by his frozen stature.

“Yes- yeah, just this,” He feels like a teenager for stammering over his words, but she pays it no mind.  Her movements are overly gentle as she takes the bundle of roses from his hands, treating the bouquet with the utmost care, as though it were a newborn child.

His eyes glance down the nametag on her apron quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice his sudden urge to put a name to the pretty face.  (y/n).  Certainly fitting.  Even her apron is embroidered with little colorful threads of cartoonish flowers.  Peeking at the apron of the other employee and finding nothing but a little bee pin secured next to their name tag, he wonders if she embroidered those flowers herself.

“These are beautiful, they’re going to love them,” She’s speaking again and Nanami finds himself standing up a little straighter.  “Would you like them wrapped up in a special way? I have tissue and ribbon” She offers with a smile that has all of the blood rushing towards his face.  He prays it’s not  noticeable.

“Uh- that’s probably not… no, I don’t think so” He replies awkwardly, and she can’t help but laugh a bit at his uncertainty.

“First time buying flowers for someone?” She asks, and he watches as she pulls open a drawer beside her and plucks out a sheet of white tissue paper with just the faintest bits of glitter sparkling on it.

“That obvious?” He mumbles, and he hopes it comes across more playful than embarrassed, but deep down, Nanami knows it’s the latter.

(y/n) chuckles again, expertly crafting the tissue to fit around the bouquet in a flattering way.  She makes it look easy, the way the paper folds to her will neatly.  It’s a simple task, but Nanami knows if he’d tried it himself, the tissue would wrinkle and it wouldn’t look nearly as flattering as she presents it.

“You’re not the first man to pick out the first bouquet of roses he sees,” SHe teases gently.  “No offense though, these are gorgeous.  I have to say I really outdid myself” 

“You grow them all yourself?” Nanami asks, and instantly regrets it.  Is that a stupid question? Do all florists grow their own supply? He hadn’t a clue on the inner workings of the flower market.

“I sure do!” Her reply is cheerful, and the question seems a little less stupid.  “There’s a greenhouse out back, but between you and me,” She lowers her voice like she’s about to tell him a grave secret.  Her eyes lock on his with an intensity Nanami thinks could rival Gojo’s.  “My best work comes from my own garden at home” She confesses.

Nanami can’t help the way it cracks a smile out of him, especially when she grins widely and finishes up his bouquet with a pretty string of red ribbon.  Even the way she curls it with the sharp edge of a pair of shears is done to perfection.  He really had to hand it to her for her craftsmanship.

He pays, making sure to tip a generous amount on the card reader, even if it is purely because she’d seemed to sweep him off his feet in less than two minutes of conversation.

“She’ll be very excited to receive these, they’re absolutely perfect” (y/n) says, handing the bouquet back to him with just as much grace as before.  Nanami finds himself moving slowly, careful not to crinkle a single edge of the tissue.

“I don’t know about that, I don’t think she even likes flowers,” Nanami says as he glances over the red petals smiling up at him.  The implication of the statement doesn’t hit him until a moment too late, and he looks back up at (y/n) almost too quickly, his eyes widened slightly as he tries to backtrack.  “She’s a friend- a, uh, colleague sort of friend.  She’s celebrating something and I… really didn’t know what to bring” It’s a lame explanation, and he finds himself fubbing the back of his neck and hoping he doesn’t come across like some slimy liar trying to cover his tracks.

“Oh! I see.  I just assumed, because, you know…” (y/n) laughs softly as she gestures to the roses.  Nanami follows the gesture before glancing back at her, his confusion evident.  “Cause roses are usually a symbol of romance.  Well, the symbol of romance, really” She explains.

His eyes widen further and she can’t help but laugh a little more.  Everything about her new customer amused her, and she didn’t usually spend so much time chatting with people that weren’t trying to chat with her, but she couldn’t help but want to drag the conversation on just a little bit longer.

“Oh god,” Nanami mutters, staring down at the roses with a newfound dislike for them.  “They’re going to laugh at me” 

“No, no, they won’t,” (y/n) quickly shakes her head.  “I’m sure your friend will think it’s sweet.  She’ll understand.  It’s a very kind gesture” 

He can tell just by looking at her that her words are genuine, she’s not just saying them to make him feel better.  Her eyes gleam as she nods at him encouragingly.

“Alright,” He sighs, giving the roses one last once over to make sure he’s not making a grave mistake.  “But if they laugh I’m not getting the fancy paper next time” 

Her cheeks bloom with color, next time, she repeats in her mind, and there’s an undeniable flutter in her chest at the sentiment.  She nods back at him with certainty.

“If they laugh, then I’ll help you pick out an appropriate bouquet, next time” She promises, and again he can’t explain it, but Nanami knows she absolutely means it.

His smile is soft, so unbelievably velvety soft as he nods and bids her a good day before making his way back out of the shop.

That night as expected, Shoko does make a weird face when he offers up the bouquet of flowers.  She gives him a tease he sees coming from a mile away- ‘Kento, flowers? I didn’t think you would know where to find these’- which makes the rest of the group laugh as well.  He decides he’ll gloss over that fact on his next visit to the flower shop. ___

His second visit to the flower shop, he realizes too late that he doesn’t have a decent reason for picking up a pricey bouquet of flowers.  As he wanders around aimlessly while (y/n’s) busy wrapping another pretty bundle for a customer, he thinks maybe she wouldn’t even ask what the occasion is.

“Hey,” 

And then she’s standing right next to him as he’s eyeing a clump of purple bundles that smells divine.  The smile on her face is one of clear recognition, and it makes his chest warm that she’d remember him, much less approach him first.

“So, what’s the special occasion this time?” 

And of course her first question is that one.  He would smack a hand to his face if it wasn’t so embarrassing.  She’s probably asking because he failed so miserably at picking out a proper bouquet last time, and he has to give her credit for offering him help, even though he’s struggling to come up with a half decent response.

But before he can stop himself, he’s saying,

“It’s my mom’s birthday” 

Which is an odd choice of lie.  He hadn’t seen his mother in years, and her birthday had passed months ago.  But that’s what he comes up with, and it’s not exactly the worst lie, but the cringe he makes as soon as it leaves his mouth isn’t all that hidden.

“That’s nice,” (y/n) beams at the thought.  “Do you know what she likes?” 

The way his face pales answers her question plenty, and she chuckles a bit as her eyes begin to wander the shop.  “No problem, I have just the thing,” She beckons him to follow her as she wanders off a bit.  “She’s an aquarius, so the safe bet is orchids,” 

He’s not even sure what she’s saying, but he nods along like he understands perfectly.

“I have these, if you like white,” She suggests, and he eyes the pretty thin stems with white flowers budding off of them.  Oh, so those were orchids.  Then her eyes light up, and without thinking, she reaches out and places a hand on his arm with her excitement.  “But I just brought in some blue ones from home, it was too cold to keep them there, would you like to see those?” 

He actually doesn’t need any flowers at all, so worrying about the color was far from his mind.

“Blue sounds lovely” He gives her a nod and as he thought she might, she grins before rushing off to the back of the shop.  He blames the way his skin tingles from where her tough had just left him even from under two layers of clothes.

As he slowly makes his way to the front to await her blue orchids, he glances around the shop a bit more.  Every single plant his eyes land on looks like they’ve been loved to the fullest extent.  Bright blooms of color cover every inch of space, every counter, shelf, and hook on the ceiling has a well loved clump of flowers occupying it.  Nanami can name roses and daisies, and he thinks the purple flowers he’d been eyeing earlier was lavender, but most of what fills this shop looks like a completely new plant he’d never discovered before. 

He wonders how much of her life (y/n’s) spent mastering her craft, because clearly, not a single sprout of life looks untouched or forgotten.

“Here you are,” She comes back out with a beam even wider than before as she holds up her precious blue orchids proudly.  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” 

He hums in agreement, his face warm as he barely even casts a glance at the bundle in her hands.  It might be obvious and cheesy, but he can’t exactly help it.

“Or were you looking at something else?” (y/n) asks, nodding to the hanging pot his eyes had been focused on before she’d come back out.  “The star jasmine is also lovely, but they can be tough to take care of at first” 

Again, he barely casts his gaze towards the pot before he’s turning back to her again, an amused little smile on his face.

“Could you really name every plant in here?” He asks, and he knows it’s a dumb question by the way she laughs, loudly, as if he’d made the funniest joke she’s heard in ages.

“Of course I could, it’s my job” She reminds him, and he nods, humming to himself thoughtfully as his gaze flickers across the shop.

“How about those then?” He points to a small pot of pinkish-purple flowers challengingly.  (y/n) glances at them before turning her attention back to him, raising a brow.

“Those would be cosmos” She says slowly, but matter of factly.  Nanami doesn’t necessarily have a way to fact check her, so he quickly points to another pot.

“And those?” 

“Gazanias” She barely had to look at them to give him her answer.

Nanami sighs as he turns back to her in defeat, and her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes.

“Not much fun of a game, is it?” She teases with a quiet laugh.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have underestimated you” He replies, and she shrugs a shoulder at him, her eyes falling to her prized blue orchids in her hands.  Absent-mindedly, she pokes and prods at a few stems, ensuring they were healthy before she passed them off to the handsome customer.

“It’s been a slow afternoon, you could have underestimated me a little longer if you’d like,” She says, only half joking.  Nanami breathes out a laugh of amusement.  He’s not sure if she’s flirting with him or just being playful, but from the way his heart skips a beat he certainly hopes she is flirting.  “Anyways,” (y/n) clears her throat, reminding herself to go back to the task at hand.  “I think your mother would adore these.  I certainly do” 

“Those it is, then” He affirms, and she eagerly circles around the counter, already gathering a few pieces of tissue paper she deemed pretty enough to pair with the rich blues of the flower.

“So now you’re a flower-gifting kind of guy, hm?” She asks him as she carefully wraps the thin sheets around the stems of the orchids.  “The roses must’ve gone over well, then?” 

Nanami chuckles, tucking his hands into his pockets.  More or less, he thinks.

“It might be a bit of a copout, if I’m being honest,” He admits.  “I don’t really know what else to give her.  But I’m an only child, so, I kind of have the responsibility to step it up” 

“That’s alright,” (y/n) hums, her focus completely on making sure the flowers are as presentable as can be.  “Flowers are always a thoughtful gift.  Especially mine, got it?” It’s the only time she looks up at him while wrapping up the orchids, a threatening expression on her face.  “Don’t go to the other shops in town, they’re sellouts, got it?” 

He laughs at her seriousness, before crossing his hand over his chest in an x motion.

“I didn’t know there was a flower shop turf war here in the shopping district” He muses.  (y/n) huffs as she carefully moves about a few stems so each one would fall just so.

“Well, there is,” She mumbles like an afterthought.  

There’s the tiniest of creases between her brows, and Nanami wants to tell her not to worry so much over this bouquet, seeing as he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with it once he’s home, but he has a feeling the sentiment would fall on deaf ears.  She seems quite lost in her arranging.

“And besides, I gotta make sure I have loyal customers, don’t I?” She adds once she’s finished, and her serious expression crumbles into one of softness as she gazes up at him again.

“Whatever it takes” Nanami hums in agreement.  He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too foolishly, but he’s not sure it helps his case. 

“What’s your name, anyways?” 

He’s not sure why, but the simple question takes him aback, as though it were as forward as asking for his phone number.  He hesitates too long, he knows by the way she lightly raises a brow at the way he pauses before he answers.

“Nanami, Kento” Even his answer is slow, but she hums and nods at him nonetheless, as though engraving it to memory on the spot.

“Nanami Kento,” 

She extends her hand as she repeats the name, and it takes every ounce of will he has left to keep a shiver from crawling down his spine.  He didn’t think his name could sound so sweet on another person’s voice before.  He raises his hand to shake hers politely, trying not to focus too hard on how soft her small hand feels when fitted against his.  His noticeably larger hand encases hers almost completely.

“I’m (y/l/n) (y/n),” She introduces, as if her name hadn’t been circling around his mind in the couple of weeks since he’d last been here.  “But everyone just calls me (y/n)” 

“Alright, (y/n),” He muses, and he wonders if she’d felt just as warm repeating his name as he did finally saying hers aloud.  “You can just call me Kento, then” 

She smiles, and the color in her cheeks is undeniable.  He almost forgets to release her hand.

Once the orchids are perfectly bundled up, she passes them across the counter, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing over his knuckles as they both handle the bouquet with great care.

“How much do I owe you for these?” 

“Oh, they’re on the house,” She waves a dismissive hand, and she can tell by the way he frowns that he’s going to argue, so she’s quick to keep speaking.  “They’re not even in inventory, they won’t be missed.  They’ll be of much better use as a gift to your mother, anyways” 

“I don’t consider that fair-” 

“I won’t accept a single cent,” She tells him boldly, her hands on her hips, and he wonders if this is her idea of scolding.  That cute furrow in her brow and the slight pout on her lips as she glares at him.  It’s downright adorable and yet again, she’s seized his heart.  “Now go, you can’t arrive late on your own mother’s birthday” She waves her hand in a shooing motion towards the door.

God, he’s going to hell for this lie.

“Alright, alright,” He chuckles as he backs away, slowly heading for the door.  “I’ll let you know how much she loves them” 

(y/n) leans across the counter as she watches him go, her face burning with her lingering blush as she shamelessly admires him while he’s not looking.

“Come back soon, Kento!” She calls just as he’s stepped out.

He turns just as the door shuts behind him, catching her eye through the front window.  She’s smiling with utter glee as she waves at him, and this time he can’t hold back his smile as he waves back. ___

The third time he enters the flower shop, he has a better lie in mind.  The ruse of gift giving had worked perfectly so far, he might as well stick with it.

“Nanami Kento!” 

(y/n) welcomes him by name as soon as he walks in, and a rush of warmth spreads over him so quickly he thinks the other clerk working beside her is chuckling to themselves because of him.

(y/n) says something to her coworker before coming around the corner to approach him properly.  Her hair is tied in a messy bun on top of her head today, and it appeared she’d had some fun with a few little flowers sticking out of it.  He smiles as he admires the adorable look before he greets her.

“Afternoon, (y/n),” He replies warmly.  “Do you actually do any real work here?” He asks, nodding to the endearingly chaotic hairstyle.

“It pays to have a job you enjoy, right?” She asks.  “What do you do? Are you a time traveler?” She giggles through the question, the sound tinkly and so, so cute he thinks his knees could give out.

When she gestures back at him, it dawns on him that he’s left his sunglasses on his face.  He’s quick to pluck them off and tuck them into the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

“They’re odd, I know” He says, and hopes she won’t press further questions.  He’s had to lie about enough, what he does for work is an enigma even to him some days.

“I like em,” She shrugs.  “They make your whole business man thing look a bit more… steampunk” She waves her hands around the rest of his attire, and he can’t help but chuckle as he glances down at himself.

When he’d gone into the workforce he found he had preferred a business casual look more than the stuffy scratchy collars of the typical sorcerer’s uniform.  He’d matured a lot in that time, too, and after outgrowing his… emo… phase, found that a little pop of collar looked better on him than being swamped in black.

What’s funny was that what she called business man, Gojo liked to call flashy.

“Steampunk?” He repeats curiously.  “In a good way or a bad way?” 

“Depends,” She shrugs again, eyeing him skeptically.  “Are you planning on buying a bouquet today?” 

“I was, yes” He nods.

“Then in a good way,” She grins, and when he rolls his eyes at her in good nature, she only laughs more.  “Well tell me, who’s the lucky recipient this time?”

If he could get away with it, he’d happily stare at the way she smiles at him for hours.  Her hands clasped behind her back, the way her pretty eyes peer up at him from under her lashes, small splashes of color swirling within (y/e/c) irises.  Nanami can’t recall the last time he’d taken such a strong favor over another person, and in this moment if you’d asked, he’d tell you he’d never felt anything of the sort.  But her lips are plump and glossy today, and seeing them curled upwards so warmly, and for him, it has him in a chokehold.

He was growing so fond of her he almost couldn’t stand it anymore.  He could almost see that line he was trying not to trip across, because if he did step over it and into the unknown freefall that was complete and utter adoration… the thought terrifies him.

The invisible rose colored glasses that remained perched on his nose drove him to murmuring out today’s white lie before thinking about the credibility of it.

“My sister,” He finally answers.  “She’s got a promotion at work, and now I know the perfect secret in gift giving for women-” 

“I thought you were an only child?” 

Her brow furrows just slightly as she interrupts him with her question, a curiosity flickering over her features that has Nanami paling in an instant.  A part of him wants to be flattered that she’d remembered such a minor detail about his life that he’d given her a couple of weeks ago, but the anxiety that encompasses him as she’s caught him in his lie is a far more looming feeling.  He can feel sweat prick on the back of his neck right away.

The longer he hesitates to answer, the more expectant the look on her face is.  Slowly her eyebrows begin to raise, and her head tilts to the side ever so slightly.

“I… I am,” He starts slowly, hoping to stall until he finds the right explanation.  “I don’t know why I said that, um, what I… what I meant to say…” Unfortunately, he was as bad at stalling as he is at lying.

Through his terrible stammering, (y/n’s) perplexed expression starts to morph into something else.  The corner of her lips quirk up before she bites back her smile, pressing her lips together in a thin line.  She tries to hide it, but her smile is evident in the way her cheekbones raise, and the corners of her eyes crinkle ever so slightly.  She’s amused.  And Nanami’s not sure what startles him more, being caught in the lie, or the way she’s entertained by his scrambling.

“Nanami Kento, if you want to pop in just to see me, you can,” She tells him, and when she speaks there’s no chance of concealing the way her smile brightens her entire face.  “You don’t have to make up a sister just to come in” 

There’s some relief in knowing she isn’t upset, but it’s quickly eaten up by his nerves from her blatant tease.  His collar feels hot on his neck, and he’s certain that as soon as he leaves, he’ll have to loosen his tie.

It doesn’t help that the other clerk in the store had been obviously watching the entire interaction behind a large display vase of carnations.  Here and there they’d been snickering into their hand, surely also entertained by how terrible at this Nanami is.

“You’re right, I… I don’t know why I did that,” He chuckles bashfully.  (y/n) only glows brighter upon him fessing up to it.  “I did just… want to come and see you” 

She rocks on her feet a few times, her cheeks beginning to bloom with color.

“Well I’m glad you did,” She admits softly.  “You’re my favorite customer, you know” 

Nanami cracks a smile at that, some of the nerves starting to melt away the more he entertains the idea of crossing the blurring line between them.

“That simply can’t be true, I’ve only ever bought one bouquet” He reminds her, and she laughs a bit at the reminder.

“Alright, so you’re a flaky customer, but my favorite nonetheless,” She compromises.  “Besides, you said you were picking one up today, no takesies backsies” 

“Are you five?” He chuckles, but she waves her hand dismissively, ignoring the comment completely.

“What are you looking for today, Kento?” She changes the subject.

He thinks to himself for a moment, eyes flickering around the shop to see what stuck out to him.

Nanami Kento wasn’t necessarily a shy man, but he wasn’t the man that made the bold move.  That would be Gojo.  He also wasn’t the one to play coy until the other party eventually gave in either.  That was Shoko’s move.  Even after having a few short relationships or flings throughout the years, he never really made the first move.  Things sort of just… happened.

Now, he thinks it might be just the right time to make the bold move.

He still has to take a deep breath before he does, though.

“Depends,” He muses, glancing back at her.  “Which do you like best? I want to give you the right arrangement before dinner”  ___

bonus: 

They’re standing at the entrance to her building when she finally brings up the elephant in the room that had followed them for the entire evening.

“You know, it’s pretty corny to give me flowers that I grew from my store” 

“It was a good line, sweetheart, I’m going to stand by that,” He chuckles back at her.  “And you picked them” He adds, gesturing to the pretty bouquet of lilies of the valley tucked carefully in her arm.

“Forgive me for not being able to turn down pretty flowers from a handsome man” She replies playfully, and for once he manages to maintain control of himself as he gives her a gentle smile.

“Do you flirt with all of your customers to keep them coming back?” He replies coolly, and the giggle that escapes her is anything but coy.  Just pure, genuine joy.

She settles the bouquet safely in her arms before tilting forward on the tips of her toes.  It does little to nothing to shorten their height difference, but she’s close enough now that Nanami can practically taste the strawberry on her breath left from their dessert.  Common sense escapes him briefly as he follows suit, bending closer almost all the way.  The sudden movement startles her, her eyes widening and falling to watch his lips, curious if he’d actually kiss her so suddenly.  She smiles when he pauses just before his lips could touch hers, and her gaze flickers back up to his eyes.

“No,” She answers his question in a breath of a whisper.  “Just my favorite ones” 

He chuckles a bit at the cheeky answer, but he’s over the playful banter.  His hand, calloused, but warm and welcoming, reaches out to her chin, fingers gently tipping her head upwards just a little more, before he slides his palm across her cheek.

The question is on the tip of his tongue, but her eyes are already fluttering shut and she’s already closing the remaining space between them.  He supposes when her lips blindly land on his, he doesn’t need to ask for permission to kiss her goodnight. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[nubiawrites]

chapter seven

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Smut. oral (giving and receiving). sex.

Summary: Iriye and Aaron experience a night of firsts.

Notes: FLY EAGLES FLY! Also, I'm excited to finally get this one out because I figured out the ending for this series, so enjoy the ride. It's gonna have some ups and downs. Comment, like, reblog, or send me asks. I want to hear your thoughts as I love responding.

MASTERLIST

Music floated throughout Iriye’s apartment, and Mariah Carey sang about it being her night, which set the mood. She was happy it was Friday and she had a date with Aaron.

For once, Iriye wasn’t on the lot that day, as she had decided to take a me-time day. She started with some Pilates, trying to remember the last time she had been to a class. Her instructor even asked her where she had been after her workout. She then headed for a quick lunch, walked around her favorite used book store, and got her feet and nails done.

Iriye came home and read a few emails before seeing the time and figuring she should get ready. She started getting ready, spending time scrubbing down in the shower. She exited the shower and moisturized, moving on to her skincare. After feeling refreshed, Iriye went to the closet to see what she had to wear.

As Iriye pondered an ankle-length dress, she heard her phone ring and grabbed it. She smiled as she saw who it was.

“How’s my favorite child?” The smooth voice flowed from the phone, Iriye seeing her mother on the screen.

“Mommy, I’m your only child,” Iriye chuckled. 

“Same difference,” Eve, Iriye’s mother, stated. “Oh, you got the silk robe we took from the spa day we had. Where you heading out to?”

Iriye bit her lip as she shook her head. That day with her mom had been a trip.

“Who says I’m going out?” Iriye asked.

“You are shea buttered down my dear. You learned that from me. Do you have a date?” Iriye could hear the smile in her mom’s voice.

“Yes,” Iriye said as she sat on her bed, phone in hand. “I’ve been sort of seeing someone.”

“And by seeing someone, you mean having protected sex?” Eve inquired.

“Mom!” Iriye shook her head at her mother. “We are too close.”

“We raised each other practically,” Eve said. Iriye’s mom was merely twenty-two years old when she found out she was pregnant. But her mom was always too cool, even if she knew when to lay down the law. “You’re my grown daughter. I know you be having sex,”

“We haven’t gotten to know each other that biblically,” Iriye stated. “But he’s different than any man I’ve been interested in before.”

“How so?” Iriye picked at a thread on her cover. 

“He’s so… authentically himself,” Iriye admitted. “I think sometimes he looks at me with rose-colored glasses.”

“And what’s wrong with that, sweetie?” Eve asked. Iriye sighed.

“Because what happens when he takes them off and sees me? Sees the good and the bad and the ugly,” Iriye admitted.

“Then you see if he likes what he sees or runs away,” Eve declared. “Not every man is like Jay,” Iriye sighed as she thought of Jay.

“You know he still calls Tamara,” Iriye mentioned. “I can’t fault her. They became great friends through me. But it still hurts. I feel like if I just… was a little more bending and willing to shine more-”

“Some men are just not built for women like you. Women like us. Their loss.” Eve shrugged after interrupting her. “You are so beautiful, intelligent, and talented. If a man can’t see that and step out of the way to let you shine, they don’t even deserve to be in your rays or your shadow.”

“I love you so much, Mommy,” Iriye said, trying not to get teary-eyed. It was blunt and straight to the point, but it was the truth served straight up. No chaser needed.

“Now wipe your tears and show me what you’re wearing. Because I know you took my favorite sweater dress, and I will get it back when I come out to visit,” Eve declared. Iriye got up and went to her closet, showing her options to her mother and purposefully skipping over the things she took from her.

Iriye was trying to clasp her bracelet when she heard a knock at the door. She headed out of her bathroom, looking through the peephole and saw Aaron crouching in it. She smiled softly as she opened the door, stepping back to usher him in as she tried to clasp the bracelet.

“Come in. I’m almost ready,” Iriye spoke, still struggling with the bracelet.

“Here,” Aaron shut the door behind him and approached her. “Let me help you,” Iriye tried again, huffing as she didn’t get it. She held her arm, clutching the bracelet in her hand. Aaron reached forward to find the clasp, his fingers gentle against her skin. He concentrated and finally got the clasp, Iriye smiling warmly.

“Thank you,” Iriye kissed him softly, Aaron smiling against her lips. “Hi,”

“Hello,” Aaron’s arms slipped around her waist. “You look-” He pulled back to take her in, his gaze sending a shiver down her spine.  “I think there’s not enough words in my vocabulary that can describe how good you look,”

“Maybe I can help you figure some out. You know… since I’m a writer and all,” Iriye winked. Aaron pulled her back in for a deeper kiss. “Don’t we have dinner plans?” She asked against his lips.

“We do,” Aaron said between kisses before pulling back, his hands smoothing down to her waist. “You look so beautiful, love.”

“Thank you.” Iriye pulled away and grabbed her purse. “Lead the way.”

Aaron and Iriye drove in comfortable silence, mixed with pleasantries and an impromptu sing-along to a Sade song they both loved. As they got closer to the heart of downtown LA, she watched as Aaron navigated the streets, and soon, they entered a parking structure. 

Aaron got out once they were parked and headed for her door, opening it for her. Iriye let Aaron help her out of the car, and she adjusted her dress. His hand slipped into hers, the tingles shooting up her arm every time they touched. Once they got to the elevator, Aaron pressed the button for the rooftop, and Iriye eyed him for a moment, him catching her eye.

“What’s on your mind?” Aaron asked, his smooth voice falling on her ears.

“The rooftop?” Iriye stated. 

“You’ll see,” Aaron said, kissing her hand. She leaned into him softly, watching the numbers tick off as the elevator rose. Once the elevator stopped and opened, Aaron led her out to a hallway with a frosted glass door. They walked down to the door and Aaron held the door open for her

Iriye took in the rooftop, seeing it was an intimate restaurant. Some were seated inside the glass space and others were further outside on the balcony.

“Aaron, this place looks incredible,” Iriye said, turning to see him taking in her reaction. 

“I’m happy to hear that, love,” Aaron stated. A hostess came up and led them over to a table outside. Aaron pulled her chair out for her, waiting till she was sat and comfortable before moving to his. 

“Where did you find this spot?” Iriye asked, grabbing the menu so she could look at what she wanted.

“A friend I made while working manages it,” Aaron stated. “And the food is amazing.”

“Look how connected you are.” Iriye looked over the menu and saw what she was thinking about for appetizers. The waiter came over to bring them water and take their drink orders. Iriye was taken in by how the sun set and the night came alive in LA. “I love this view.”

“Me too,” Aaron said as he took Iriye in. Words couldn’t even describe how beautiful she looked. Her eyes met his, and a heat came across his skin.

“Stop it,” Iriye felt her cheeks warming up, the pit in her stomach clenching as she took in him looking at her. “You look very handsome yourself.” “I clean up nicely after a long day,” Aaron chuckled, sipping his water.

“Tell me about your day,” Iriye asked. Aaron raised an eyebrow, which she returned with one of her own. “Please,”

Aaron regaled Iriye with stories of set life, how he was faring with his co-stars for the show, and how he was making friends with the crew. He talked about how the craft team had given him a few snacks that he liked, even though he was trying to stay in shape while filming Lanterns. She found it refreshing.

“I really am fortunate to get to do what I love,” Aaron admitted after the waiter took their order for shared appetizers. Iriye took a sip of her drink that was brought over, humming at the fruity cocktail as she listened. 

“You know you’re a rarity, right?” Iriye said. Aaron furrowed her brows. “This business has a way of jading people as they climb upwards and onwards. I’ve worked with a few people at different levels and rarely meet people who genuinely love what they’re doing. Who are grateful,”

“That makes me unique?” Blueish grey eyes stared into her soul, and Iriye had to focus.

“It does to me. No matter how big you get, you’re just you. Just Aaron,” Iriye shrugged, taking another drink. “I like that.” 

“I’m glad you do.” Aaron took a sip of his drink. “What about yourself?”

“What about me?”

“Do you love what you do? Writing scripts and scenes for unique people like me to act out,” Aaron rattled out. Iriye took a moment to think.

“It’s a love and hate relationship,” Iriye admitted. “There was a time I hated it—four years into living here. I was working as an assistant for an executive. It felt like they were doing everything possible to make me hate my job. Took so much of my sanity. But I was determined to stick it out. And a year and a half later, I proved myself. She said I could be just like her and take her job. That day, I decided to find another job. Anything. I put my notice in and helped train my replacement when I hired them. I worked at a youth center afterward, trying to find peace of mind. During that time, I found happiness in writing about what I could and wanted. Doing Uber Eats and the odd set job. I never wanted to be that… miserable ever again working a nine to five to make someone else feel important.”

“Are you miserable now? Working on Paradise Lost and all?” Aaron asked.

“Not at all. Everything I worked so hard for is coming to fruition.” Iriye stated. “I’m doing what I love with people who love it just as me,” She admitted. A smile took over Aaron’s face as he reached for her hand, stroking it softly when she put it in his hand.

Appetizers came and went, and Aaron’s friend Troy brought the main courses and two drinks. Iriye was intrigued as Aaron and Troy made quick conversation, retelling how they met.

“Never met a more encouraging spotter,” Troy admitted. Aaron crossed his arms over his chest in thank you.

“Anytime, brother.” Troy and Aaron hugged each other up before Troy shook Iriye’s hand in parting.

The conversation over their main course was pleasant. Iriye learned more about how Aaron was the oldest and how he was close to his siblings and family. How he talked about them made her wish she had someone to share the times growing up.

“I feel like I’ve talked too much,” Aaron stated, Iriye picking off his plate since he hadn’t denied her the first time she did. 

“Not at all. I find people with siblings interesting.” Iriye shrugged. “I’m an only child.”

“Your parents were one and done?”

“It was just my mom and I.” Iriye took a bite of his food, chewing and swallowing.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Iriye raised her eyebrow at Aaron. “About your father,”

“I’m not,” Iriye stated. “He left when I was eleven. And honestly, it was probably for the best. My mom and I were better off without him.” She said pointedly.

“How so?” Aaron asked her, his eyes searching hers for a truth. Iriye had to look down at her plate, feeling like she was growing harsh with the mention of her father. 

“I… I’m not ready to talk about that,” Iriye simply said. She could see that look in his eyes—the one to dig deeper. “I just feel like it’ll ruin the night.”

“It won’t,” Aaron assured her.

“For me, it will.” Iriye wasn’t sure if she was ready to let Aaron know how she felt about the man responsible for half of who she was.

“I’m not going to pressure you,” Aaron said. “But just know, I’m ready whenever you are,” Iriye relaxed in her chair, those words washing over her. No pressure. Just patience.

“Thank you.”

By the time the check arrived, anticipation was the name of the game. Iriye was sipping her water, as Aaron had asked.

“I don’t want you falling asleep on me,” Aaron teased, Iriye watching as he wrote his signature. Iriye playfully let her heeled foot slide against the inside of his leg, watching as he stopped writing for a moment.

“Focus,” Iriye spoke, taking another sip of her water. Not even its coldness could calm the heat burning through her.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Iriye.” Aaron felt her foot gently stroking his leg.

“It’s not a bad thing if we both win.” Iriye placed the cup down. “Yours or mine?”

“What are you asking, love?”

“Your place or mine,” Iriye raised a brow. Aaron put his card back in his wallet before sipping his water. Iriye raised her foot high along his leg. She was just so close when-

“You’re something else, Iriye Edwards,” Aaron had her ankle in one hand. 

“What can I say? I know what I want. What do you want?” Iriye asked. She felt his fingers rolling her ankle softly in his hands. Aaron licked his bottom lip, those eyes of his growing darker.

“What I want… is to know how you look lying spread out on my bed,” Aaron breathed. Those words made Iriye take a deep breath, unable to break eye contact with him. 

“That’s someth-”

“I’m not done,” Aaron interrupted. Iriye shut her mouth quickly, hoping no one else focused on them. “I want to be inside of you every way I can. See how you look when you give in to the pleasure I can bring you, Iriye.” Iriye caught the Jamaican twang at the end of his words and felt the anticipation roll up her back. “Smell your scent on my sheets, even after you leave. Is that something you want?”

“Yes,” Iriye breathed. Aaron smiled.

“Then let’s go,” 

Iriye was buzzing as Aaron led her out of the restaurant and back to his car, her clutching onto his arm. It was the comfortable silence, fueled with the thrumming of her heart as she was mentally preparing for what was to come.

But all of it was thrown to the wind once they reached Aaron’s apartment and entered. Iriye didn’t have time to process as the door shut behind her, Aaron pressing her up against it as he kissed her.

Moans left Iriye’s mouth and found a home in Aaron’s. All the self control he held onto left as his hands went to her hips, sliding over her ass as Iriye wrapped her arms around his neck. 

Chest to chest, Iriye felt their clothes were a burden. She moved to push her hands under his suit jacket until Aaron pulled away from the kiss to shrug it off.

“You look so sexy in that dress… I can’t wait to see it on the floor,” Aaron groaned. Iriye giggled as he dragged her to the bedroom, Iriye trying her best not to trip over anything. 

Once inside the bedroom, lips clashed against as Iriye let her hands slide under Aaron’s shirt. He got the memo and backed Iriye to the bed until she fell into the familiar mattress. She leaned up to watch Aaron lift his shirt from his body, muscles and abs underneath the caramel skin.

“You can’t be real.” Iriye hummed, taking him in. Aaron smirked, grabbing her hand and dragging it down his abs. 

“I am. All for you,” Aaron groaned, feeling her nails dragging softly against the skin. She sat up more, making quick work of his belt and unzipping his pants. The peek of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs made him even more appealing to her.

Iriye slipped her hands into Aaron’s pants, helping him get the pants and his boxer briefs down, seeing the one-eyed monster between his legs. She kept her eyes on him as she let her tongue lick at the underside of his length, a groan escaping Aaron.

Aaron’s hand slipped to Iriye’s goddess locs, seeing he was trying to regain some sense of control as Iriye worked the tip of his length into her mouth. She focused on the head, finding it was her favorite part of his length so far. She wanted to spend the night playing with it and discovering what made him tick.

“Jesus,” Aaron breathed, peering down at Iriye playing with the slit of his cock, tongue wiggling against it. She was a pro. He pulled back, watching Iriye’s mouth fall open as she moaned for more. “You look so sexy.” Aaron slid his cock against her lips and she sucked the head into her mouth playfully. “Open those pretty lips for me, baby girl,”

Iriye smiled before letting her mouth fall open, Aaron pushing his length in her mouth. She whined, relaxing as she let him fuck her mouth. One hand went to grip his ass as she encouraged him to fuck her mouth. The other one went to her dress, tugging up the skirt. She slipped her hands between her thighs, moaning around his length as she touched herself through her wet panties.

Aaron thrust a little faster into Iriye’s mouth, her gagging some. She grasped onto his ass as he pulled back, licking up to see his eyes were half hooded and his hand grasping into her hair. Iriye went deeper, seeing how much more his jaw dropped.

“Fuck…” Aaron breathed and Iriye pulled back to suck before taking him deep again, her hand moving her panties aside and slipping her fingers inside, fucking herself and moaning around him. 

Iriye took him down further, gagging around his length as she relaxed, hearing Aaron praising her as she sucked him slowly. She wanted to savor him but she was fucking herself, her pussy growing wetter. She felt one of Aaron’s free hands trail down to the arm fucking herself. 

“I can hear how wet that pussy is Iriye,” Aaron groaned. “Bet your fingers—- fuck—- feel so good inside. But not as good as mine.” Iriye nodded, moaning once again. She whined as he pulled back, seeing him kick off his pants. Iriye was about to take off her dress when Aaron grasped her hand, pulling it out of her panties. Her jaw dropped as he sucked her juices off of her fingers, moaning around them.

Iriye pressed her lips against Aaron’s, tasting their juices together as they kissed. His hands pushed her dress up and lifted it, leaving her in the black lacy bra and panties. Her bra was next, his hands slipping them down her shoulder as they kissed. She was bare to him except for her panties. Iriye pulled away, her staring into his darkened eyes and licking her lip.

“Aaron, I need you,” Iriye moaned as she moved her hand around his length, giggling when he groaned at her touch. “Please…”

“Please, what? Tell me what you need, love.” Aaron kissed her again. 

“Aaron, please fuck me,” Iriye was helpless to her pleasure, needing him. She felt him pull away from the bed, reaching into his bedside drawer and opening a box of gold foil condoms, his length bobbing as he moved. 

Aaron helped her up the bed, his fingers landing on her panties and pulling them off. Iriye moaned as he pushed her legs apart, seeing Aaron lowering to her pussy. “I need you.” She let her hands trail down his shoulders and dug into his shoulders softly.

Iriye let out a moan as he licked at her pussy, seeing her juices on Aaron’s lips. 

“Please, Aaron.” Iriye begged. Aaron smirked up at her from between her legs. “Since you’re using your words,” Aaron trailed kisses up her body, her skin heating up more and more. Iriye moaned and kissed him back when he made it to her lips.

Aaron grabbed the condom, using his teeth to open it. He slipped it on as Iriye’s hand slipped to rub her clit and Aaron pushed it away. His condom covered length pushed between her lower lips, teasing her clit and a gasp came out of her. He slid his length between her lips a few more times, whines leaving her body as he teased her.

“Iriye…” Aaron groaned, sliding between her lips one more time before he grasped her cheek. “Keep your eyes on me. Let me know if you need me to stop.” Iriye nodded, her eyes locking on his. She felt him at her entrance, and he pushed in, Iriye gasping out.

Aaron could feel how warm she was through the condom, his length fitting inside of her like a glove. He had to focus as he fantasized about the moment he would feel all of Iriye wrapped around him. But his late-night and daytime thoughts were nothing compared to the reality below him, her legs beside his hip as his body pressed into hers.

Iriye tried her best not to squeeze around him, wanting to feel all of him, and she was.

“You feel so good, Aaron,” Iriye moaned, already beginning to feel intoxicated with lust. She cupped his cheek to pull him in for a kiss. “Move, please.” “Yes,” Aaron raised himself on his arms, pulling his length out before pushing back in, slow thrusts making Iriye whine. Her hands dragged from his hips to his back, nails grasping onto the caramel skin as she tried to focus on anything but Aaron taking her. 

Iriye rolled her hips against Aaron, and groans fell from his lips. She could see he kept his chain on, and she leaned to kiss him. The way his eyes caught hers, the sight too much for Iriye to focus on so she kissed him, letting him swallow all the moans and gasps that came from her.

“Shit Iriye,” Aaron moaned against her lips. The moans, groans and smack of flesh meeting wet pussy filled the room. 

“You’re fucking me so good,” Iriye cried out. “Harder, baby.” Aaron obliged her, hips moving deeper and faster into her. “Just like that,” Iriye’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. His hips moved into her, colliding with the flesh of her skin. Iriye wrapped her legs around his waist. Keeping him closer as he dug deeper into her.

“You like being filled like this?” Aaron breathed.

“Mhm,”

“That’s not good enough,” Aaron said, giving her a hard thrust into the fleshy spot that had a cry coming from Iriye. “Tell me. Talk to me, Iriye,” He groaned.

“It feels… it feels like you were meant to be inside me.” Iriye licked her lips, the lewd sounds of his cock moving inside of her echoed in his room.

Aaron watched her for a moment, seeing how her breasts moved with every thrust, the different sounds coming out of her as he moved a certain way. It made him want to lose it quickly, and he was okay with that as long as she came first. He could feel her walls tightening, and Iriye was getting worked up. That just made him thrust harder into her, her cries building more and more. Her pussy tightening around him as he coaxed her orgasm from her with his hard cock.

“Iriye…” He groaned, one of his hands sliding to her ass, to pull her harder into him. Her toes clenched at the feeling, liking how he was manhandling her as she grew closer.

“Don’t stop,” Iriye cried, her hand sliding down between them, her fingers finding her clit and rubbing it. Seeing her touching herself made Aaron focus on hitting her G-spot, the cries and moans between them making their breathing erratic and their movements following suit.

“Oh shit,” 

“Yes! Right there,”

“Iriye!” Aaron growled into her ear as he rolled himself into her, feeling the pit in his stomach grow. His balls tightened up and he moved faster, needing her to cum first.

“Shit! Oh! Aaron,” Iriye rubbed her clit faster, cries leaving her body as his thrust becane faster. With a grasp of her ass to pull her against him, the damn broke and Iriye cried out as she came, her juices spilling and coating the condom. 

Her walls tightening as she came had Aaron stuttering in a thrust before he fastened his pace once more, drawing Iriye’s orgasm out. It took him ix more wet thrust before he spilled into the condom, pulling Iriye’s hips closer to him. Iriye pressed kisses against his lips, cheeks, and shoulders, clutching onto him as they moved together, riding out their orgasms.

Their hips slowed, sweat clinging to their bodies as Aaron struggled not to suffocate her beneath the weight of his body. However, Iriye pulled him closer. Once he had regained his strength, he dragged them further up the bed. Iriye giggled as she felt his kisses all over her face before he found her lips. She moaned into his mouth as his hand rested on her stomach, and she whined. Aaron pulled out of her, and she whimpered, feeling her juices spilling out. He kissed down her body, lips moving to kiss and suck at her hard nipples.

“Aaron…” Iriye whined as she dragged her nails over his head as he kissed down. “You gotta…” She arched against him when he kissed down the softness of her bell, his tongue licking between her folds. “Let me catch my breath.”

“You got it, love.” He spread her legs over his shoulders. “Just breathe and let me taste you till you’re ready for round two.”

Iriye watched as Aaron devoured her, her night just beginning.

@wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood

[ronearoundblindly]

No Promises (3)

Lloyd Hansen x rival assassin!Reader

I Left You Something On The Body (see previous or LH Masterlist)

Summary: You and Lloyd take to leaving consolation prizes for whichever one of you 'loses.' It...escalates delightfully.

Warnings for DARKFIC. Language; descriptions of sexual situations, toys, various paraphernalia. Smut-adjacent (masturbation). MINORS DNI. I have plenty else for you on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 982

And you do; you let Lloyd have several open contracts after the keycard incident.

Sometimes you wonder about the man providing the most fun you’ve had in years, but mostly, you relax in a noisy city high-rise with a spectacular view. A small vacation between assassinations. You drop off the network for a month or so, picking up a straight-forward job nearby, and then show up at the target’s house to find him already dead.

Pinched onto the body, overtop a blood-soaked button-down, are golden nipple clamps.

You snort in disbelief.

The sick bastard, he’s really wooing you now.

A thin chain between the clamps sports a tied tag.

To: The Cobalt Cunt

You let out a dreamy sigh, the little tingle in your mind of possibly fucking (with) him again vibrating to life. You even miss him in a weird way.

On the reverse of the tag, it reads, “not safe for lace.”

It’s on obviously and more fun than you ever imagined. At some point, you can’t tell if you two are letting each other get places first on not. The money is, oddly, totally irrelevant, and your career takes on a renewed joy.

Lloyd claims a target. You show up, kill them, and drop off an intricately-packaged Gucci jock strap with “Eat Me” embroidered at the back of the waistband, right above his asshole.

For good measure—and to remind him what he’s missing—you add a spritz of your perfume to the cup.

That’s where you want to be nestled, it implies. That’s where you belong, right against his dick.

Sadly, the next ‘surprise’ takes a while as you two are not after the same jobs. There’s plenty of work to go around till you find an oblong box wrapped in brown paper on the armchair ten feet from an enormous bloodstain.

 With an empty scotch glass and a crumb-covered plate beside it, you know Lloyd’s been trolling for your attention. His snacky, sweet-tooth is somewhat notorious.

Your inconspicuous, purposefully plain gift waits patiently, the soft whipped cream of a strawberry shortcake dripping down its serving stand.

There’s no rush though, and you make a little ritual of opening it to reveal a beautiful dildo with golden speckles throughout the silicone molding. It is absolutely from a cast of Lloyd; you’d know that curve anywhere.

If that’s as close as you can get? Fine by you…

The rest of him barely participated before anyway.

Geneva.

Lloyd’s pissed and tired after the flight. Suzanne is the fucking worst and made him repeat the plan three times because her pea-brain is as sharp as a limp dick.

He dances down the plane steps, noticing a welcome party that is not his people. One sunglasses-clad, black-suited fellow walks up to Lloyd with an enormous gift basket.

It’s so goddamn pink Lloyd recoils and squints his eyes.

Good christ, it’s hideous. He loves it in a sick way.

Pink cellophane, fuzzy pink handcuffs, a sparkling fuchsia cock ring, rose gold anal beads with pesto-colored rope connecting them, and strawberry flavored lube.

Mood restored, Lloyd chuckles, turning on his heel to get back on the plane.

He’s going home. He has toys to play with.

He doesn’t bother to explain shit to Suzanne. One of these days, he’s just going to pop her for free.

This one doesn’t coincide with a job at all, but that’s what makes it all the sweeter to you.

Delivered to the place you’re staying for the week is an adorable, yellow stuffed rabbit with a pull-cord. Across its tummy is 'sunshine' in cursive letters.

You honest-to-god squeal in delight as you listen to each of the five custom recordings programed in.

Lloyd tuts then says “should have sized up my ring, you cock-drunk whore,” a deep gasp and a squelch punctuates the end.

Oh boy. It’s Christmas in July. Happy you!

You fake your own shocked gasp at the second soundbite.

“Know you don’t taste like fucking strawberries,“ he grunts before bitterly adding, “but I’ll take one for the team and eat that pussy any day.”

Third: “Bet I was the best you ever had, even when I wasn’t awake, you poor thing. So needy…”

Fourth: “How hard did you come, Sunshine? Be honest.” He laughs like the cat who got the cream to end that one.

Finally, the last of the pulls is just the slapping noise of him jerking off and finishing with a deep moan.

Now, at least, you know what Lloyd sounds like when he comes.

Utterly self-satisfied, Lloyd goes about his life of luxury.

He’ll be damned if he’s going to break and go to you. Fuck that. The thrill of this taco-and-hotdog game is worth it anyway.

He still works, and not every job revolves around you.

For one such fulfilled contract, he’s being paid in artwork and has the delivery men bring in the large framed canvas to uncover in his current villa’s sitting room.

The expectation is a well-known portrait.

It’s a painting alright, but it’s…very modern.

Lloyd crosses his arms over his chest and smothers a proud grin.

The torso and open legs of you stretch out facing the viewer, gold leaf embossed nipple clamps and their chains dangle over your stomach, and the blunt end of a golden dildo sits nestled in your cunt. There are brush strokes and paint visibly raised from the surface.

He wonders whether it was done from a photo or whether you sat there, bare, for some artist to reference for hours, maybe even days.

Lloyd had a spot in mind for his real payment, but this will do nicely. He’s quite pleased with the view. It shall go over the mantle in the bedroom, and he shall fuck whoever he wants—his fist included—while staring right at it.

The half dozen or so other people in the villa’s great room who can all see the painting don’t say a fucking word.

How the hell is he supposed to top this?

A/N: Full disclosure, I'm pretty sure this is the funniest thing I'll ever write, and I'm okay with that. I can't stop laughing 🤣🤣🤣

[Next Part: A Blazer Full of Bullet Holes]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

blue art deco divider by @/saradika-graphics--thank you for your beautiful work!

[aghost-writer]

Wisteria

Chapter 1

This is a Yandere Demon Slayer x Female Reader Fic!

MDNI!!!

The snow fell silently across the mountains, each flake settling gently on the frozen earth. The wind whispered through the pine trees, carrying the scent of the crisp, cold air. Tanjiro Kamado’s breath fogged in front of him as he trekked up the narrow path, a bundle of charcoal strapped to his back. His keen sense of smell helped guide him through the forest, ensuring he stayed on familiar trails despite the thick snow cover.

As he climbed higher, something unusual caught his attention. Amid the natural scents of pine and snow, there was something else—something metallic, sharp, and unsettling. Blood. His body tensed as his instincts sharpened. It wasn’t the usual scent of an injured animal; this was human.

Tanjiro quickened his pace, his heart pounding in his chest. He dashed through the trees, moving swiftly toward the source of the smell. As he rounded a bend in the mountain path, his sharp eyes caught sight of a figure lying on the ground, motionless and half-covered in snow. A girl. 

She was dressed in a simple white yukata, the fabric now stained red, her black haori embroidered with delicate wisteria flowers flung open, as if she had collapsed mid-stride. Tanjiro dropped to his knees beside her, panic flooding his system as he noticed the severity of her condition. Blood oozed from a wound on her side, the red seeping into the snow around her like a macabre painting.

"Are you okay?" Tanjiro asked, his voice trembling slightly as he reached out to touch her shoulder. There was no response. Her skin was cold to the touch, but her chest still faintly rose and fell. She was alive, but just barely.

Tanjiro’s mind raced. He couldn’t leave her here—not in this condition. She wouldn’t survive another hour in the cold. He carefully scooped her up in his arms, noticing how light she was, as if she had been starving for days. Her long hair spilled over his arm as he adjusted his grip, making sure not to aggravate her wound any further.

“I need to get you to the house,” he murmured, more to himself than to her, though he hoped she could hear him somehow. Without wasting another moment, Tanjiro began to descend the mountain, his legs moving swiftly and purposefully despite the uneven snow-covered path. The weight of her body was nothing compared to the urgency in his heart. He had to get her somewhere safe—his home was the only option.

As he carried her, Tanjiro's sharp sense of smell continued to pick up details about her condition. The scent of blood was strong, too strong to have been from a superficial injury. She had been bleeding for a while. How long had she been out here, alone and suffering?

The journey felt longer than usual as Tanjiro's worry intensified. He could feel the subtle tremors in her body, her shallow breaths growing weaker with each passing moment. He prayed she could hold on just a little longer.

At last, the small house he shared with his family came into view, nestled in the forest clearing. Smoke rose from the chimney, a sign that warmth awaited inside. Tanjiro felt a small measure of relief, but he knew the real challenge lay ahead. He would need to treat her wound—he wasn’t sure how, but he had to try.

Pushing open the door with his shoulder, Tanjiro hurried inside. The warmth of the hearth washed over them both, melting the snow that had begun to accumulate on her clothes. He gently laid the girl on the futon, brushing stray strands of her hair from her face. Her features were delicate, but there was a toughness to her expression, even in her unconscious state.

"I'll be right back," he said softly, though she remained unresponsive.

Tanjiro quickly gathered what little medical supplies they had in the house—some bandages, clean water, and a salve his mother often used for injuries. His hands moved deftly, the focus in his eyes betraying his worry. He carefully removed the girl’s haori, exposing the wound. It was deep but not beyond saving. With practiced hands, he cleaned it, wincing at how much blood had pooled around the injury.

"You're strong," he whispered as he wrapped the bandages around her, his fingers trembling slightly. "You held on for so long."

Once the wound was bandaged, Tanjiro sat back, wiping the sweat from his brow despite the cold. She was safe for now, but it was clear she would need rest—and possibly more help than he could provide. He couldn’t stop thinking about how she ended up on the mountain in such a dire state. Who was she? What had happened to her?

The girl remained unconscious, her breathing still shallow but more stable than before. Tanjiro sat beside her, keeping watch, not daring to leave her side. His thoughts drifted to his family, wondering how they would react when they saw her. His mother, kind and compassionate, would surely help care for her, and his siblings would be curious, but gentle.

As the hours passed, Tanjiro never left her side. He couldn’t. His heart ached for her, a stranger who had nearly lost her life in the cold, and yet there was a sense of responsibility that weighed heavily on him. He didn’t know why, but he felt connected to her—like it was fate that had brought him up the mountain that day.

Eventually, the door slid open, and his younger sister, Nezuko, poked her head in. She looked at Tanjiro, then at the girl lying on the futon.

“Tanjiro, who is she?” Nezuko asked softly, stepping inside with a worried expression.

“I don’t know,” Tanjiro admitted, his eyes never leaving the girl’s pale face. “But she needs our help.” 

Nezuko nodded, understanding immediately, and knelt beside her brother, taking the girl’s cold hand in hers. Together, they watched over her, the warmth of the fire and their presence keeping her safe from the harsh world outside.

Tanjiro vowed silently to himself that, no matter what happened, he would protect her—just as he did with his own family.

For the next few days, the house was filled with a heavy tension. Tanjiro stayed close to the unconscious girl, his worry deepening with each passing hour. He took care of her as best he could, cleaning her wounds, changing her bandages, and doing everything in his power to keep her warm. His family was supportive, especially his mother, who helped with the herbs and remedies she knew. But still, the girl remained unconscious, teetering between life and death.

It wasn’t just her physical condition that worried him. Every time he left the room, Tanjiro could still smell the faint scent of blood lingering in the air. His sharp nose picked up the subtle shifts in her state—the ebb and flow of her strength, the rise and fall of her pulse. She was fighting for her life, but it was impossible to tell if she would win the battle.

On the third night, Tanjiro hardly slept. He stayed beside her, keeping a steady vigil while his family rested. The quiet crackle of the hearth was the only sound in the room, and the warmth of the fire seemed distant compared to the cold knot of anxiety in his chest. The girl’s breathing was shallow, sometimes uneven, and he would lean closer, holding his breath, fearing that each time it might be her last.

Every now and then, Nezuko would join him, sitting silently at his side, her small hands folded in her lap. She, too, was worried, though she didn’t voice it. The whole family had come to care for the stranger in their home, even without knowing her name or where she came from. But it was Tanjiro who felt the weight of responsibility the heaviest. He had found her, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was his duty to protect her.

By the time the fifth day dawned, the tension in the house had reached its peak. The weather outside had worsened, heavy snowstorms sweeping through the mountains, isolating their home further from the nearest village. The Kamado family was now completely on their own.

That morning, as the first light of dawn filtered through the wooden shutters, Tanjiro sat beside the girl once more. His eyes were red from lack of sleep, and his body ached from the constant strain, but he couldn’t bring himself to rest. He watched her closely, hoping—praying—that today would be different. Her bandages had needed changing again in the night, and although her bleeding had slowed, she remained pale, her skin clammy and cold.

Tanjiro reached out, gently placing a hand on her forehead. She wasn’t feverish, but her body temperature was still too low. He carefully adjusted the blankets around her, tucking them tighter in an attempt to warm her frail form.

Then, something happened.

A slight twitch of her fingers. It was faint, barely noticeable, but Tanjiro’s sharp eyes caught it immediately. His heart leaped in his chest. He leaned in closer, his breath hitching, watching her hand intently.

“Can you hear me?” he whispered softly, unsure if he was imagining things.

For a long moment, there was nothing. But then, her eyelids fluttered. Slowly, they cracked open, revealing a pair of unfocused eyes that blinked groggily, as if the world around her was too much to process at once. Her gaze wandered the room, unfocused and dazed, before it landed on Tanjiro.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Tanjiro breathed, relief flooding him. He wanted to shout for his family, to let them know she had finally woken up, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. Instead, he stayed where he was, speaking softly, gently. “How are you feeling?”

The girl didn’t respond at first. She stared at him with wide eyes, blinking slowly as if she were trying to piece together where she was and what had happened. Her breathing quickened slightly, her body tensing under the blankets. There was fear in her eyes, but also confusion, like she was struggling to recall something important but couldn’t quite grasp it.

Tanjiro offered her a reassuring smile, trying to ease her obvious distress. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice gentle. “You’re safe now. You were hurt, but you’re going to be alright. My family and I have been taking care of you.”

The girl’s lips parted slightly, as if she were about to say something, but then her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked down at her hands, now resting on the blanket, before her eyes darted around the room again. Finally, her gaze returned to Tanjiro.

“Who… who am I?”

Her voice was weak, barely a whisper, but the question hung heavily in the air. Tanjiro blinked, his heart sinking as he processed her words. The look of confusion on her face was profound, as though she were grasping at empty memories, trying to find something—anything—that made sense.

“You… don’t remember?” Tanjiro asked, his voice soft, trying not to alarm her.

She shook her head slowly, her eyes still wide with uncertainty. “No… I don’t… I don’t know who I am.”

The silence that followed was thick with emotion. Tanjiro swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. His instincts told him to reassure her, to tell her everything would be okay, but how could he make such a promise when she couldn’t even recall her own name?

“You don’t remember anything?” he asked gently, though he already knew the answer.

The girl closed her eyes for a moment, her brow knitting as she tried again to recall something, but when she opened them again, they were filled with frustration and fear. “No… I can’t… I don’t even know why I’m here.”

Tanjiro’s chest tightened at her words. He could see how scared she was, how lost she felt, and it broke his heart. He didn’t know what had happened to her before he found her on the mountain, but whatever it was, it had taken everything from her—her identity, her memories, even her sense of self.

He reached out slowly, carefully placing his hand on top of hers. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice firm but kind. “You don’t have to remember everything right now. We’ll help you, I promise. You’re not alone.”

The girl looked down at their hands, her eyes softening slightly at the contact. She didn’t pull away, though her grip remained loose, tentative.

Tanjiro could feel the weight of her uncertainty, the fear that lingered beneath her fragile state. But despite it all, there was something resilient about her—a strength that reminded him of the girl he had found, bleeding but still alive, in the snow.

For now, that would be enough.

But as the fire crackled softly in the background, warming the small room, her words echoed in Tanjiro’s mind:

“Who am I?”

Several days had passed since Y/N first woke up in the Kamado household. Though weak at first, her body was slowly healing, and she had begun to move around the house with more ease. The Kamado family welcomed her warmly, treating her as one of their own despite the mystery surrounding her past. Y/N had learned to smile and laugh with them, her sharp wit often bringing a lightheartedness that quickly endeared her to the family. Still, beneath her smiles, there was a quiet frustration that lingered—a frustration only Tanjiro seemed to notice.

Y/N had eventually remembered one thing: her name. It had come to her one evening as she sat by the fire, staring at her hands, trying to piece together fragments of her broken memory. The name “Y/N” felt familiar, like a long-forgotten tune. She clung to it, grateful for at least one piece of herself returning, but the rest of her life remained a blank slate.

Tanjiro, perceptive as ever, noticed the subtle signs of her irritation. She was good at hiding it from the rest of the family—her bright laughter and warm words convincing his siblings and mother that she was settling in well—but Tanjiro could see the small cracks in her composure. Her smile would falter when she thought no one was looking, and her hands would clench at her sides when someone mentioned something about their past or a shared memory.

This particular afternoon, Y/N was helping Tanjiro’s mother prepare lunch while his siblings played outside. The Kamado home was filled with warmth, the fire crackling in the hearth and the delicious aroma of cooking rice filling the air. Y/N moved quietly, her expression calm, but Tanjiro—who was stacking firewood by the door—could see the tension in her movements.

As his mother hummed softly, Y/N chopped vegetables with precision, her hands steady despite the occasional flicker of annoyance in her eyes. She had been trying to push her memories back to the surface, but every time, it was like grasping at smoke. And though she never voiced her frustration aloud, Tanjiro could feel the weight of it in the way she carried herself, in the faint creases that formed on her brow when she thought no one was watching.

After lunch was prepared and served, Tanjiro’s mother excused herself to check on the younger children outside, leaving Tanjiro and Y/N alone in the kitchen. The silence between them was comfortable, but Y/N’s tension was palpable. She stood by the window, looking out at the snow-covered mountains, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter.

“Y/N,” Tanjiro called softly, sensing her frustration.

She turned to face him, her expression neutral, though he could see the flicker of irritation behind her eyes. “Yes?”

He set down the firewood he had been carrying and walked over to her, his kind eyes meeting hers. “You don’t have to hide it from me, you know.”

She blinked, surprised by his directness, but then let out a soft sigh. “I’m not hiding anything.”

Tanjiro raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a small smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”

For a moment, Y/N stood there in silence, staring at him. She wanted to protest, to keep up the pretense of being fine, but she knew it was pointless. Tanjiro had seen right through her since the moment she’d woken up in their home. He had a way of reading people, a gentle understanding that made it difficult to keep things hidden.

“It’s just… frustrating,” Y/N admitted quietly, her shoulders relaxing as she allowed herself to be honest. She glanced down at the floor, biting her lip. “I can’t remember anything—anything important. I don’t know who I am, where I came from… even my name felt like it was slipping away before I remembered it.”

Tanjiro nodded, his expression softening. “It must be hard.”

Y/N clenched her fists, feeling the familiar rush of irritation rise in her chest. “I don’t want to be a burden to your family. You’ve all been so kind to me, but I feel like… like I’m taking advantage of that kindness because I don’t know who I am or why I’m here.”

“You’re not a burden,” Tanjiro said firmly, stepping closer to her. “You saved me, remember? I found you because of that smell of blood on the mountain. If I hadn’t been there… I don’t want to think about what might have happened. You’re not taking advantage of anything, Y/N. We want to help you.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t want to be pitied.”

“It’s not pity,” Tanjiro said, his voice gentle but unwavering. “It’s understanding. Anyone in your situation would feel the same way. It must be frustrating not being able to remember, but you don’t have to hide how you feel. Not from me.”

She looked up at him, her eyes softening as she realized how sincere he was. Tanjiro always had this way of making her feel safe—like no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone in this strange, memoryless existence. For the first time in days, she allowed herself to relax in his presence, dropping the mask she had been holding up for his family.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, the words barely audible. “What if I never remember anything else?”

Tanjiro’s expression didn’t waver, but his eyes grew even more compassionate. “Then we’ll figure it out together. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. You’re not alone, Y/N.”

Her heart ached at his words, a mix of gratitude and frustration swirling inside her. How could someone be so kind, so patient? She didn’t understand it, but at the same time, she was grateful. Without him, she wasn’t sure how she would have handled the weight of her lost memories.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice steadier than before. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t found me.”

Tanjiro smiled, the warmth of it chasing away the cold that had settled over her heart. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said. “And besides, my family already adores you. You’re part of us now.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at that. The Kamado family had been nothing but kind to her since she had woken up, and while she still felt out of place at times, their warmth and acceptance had begun to ease the loneliness she hadn’t even realized she was carrying.

“I’m just… trying to take it one day at a time,” she said, her voice more sure now. “But I’ll try not to let it get to me too much.”

Tanjiro nodded, his smile widening. “That’s all you can do. And remember, you’re not in this alone.”

Y/N gave a small nod, the weight of her frustration easing ever so slightly in the face of his unwavering support. For now, that would be enough.

As the two of them stood in the quiet kitchen, the sounds of Tanjiro’s siblings laughing outside filtering in through the windows, Y/N allowed herself to feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she’d be okay. Even without her memories, she had found a place where she belonged—at least for now.

The next day, sunlight streamed through the small windows of the Kamado household, illuminating the cozy space in a warm glow. Y/N woke up feeling more refreshed than she had in days, the remnants of her sleepless nights replaced by a soft determination. She had spent a few days in the company of the kind-hearted Kamado family, and with each passing hour, the heaviness in her heart seemed to lighten. Today, she was determined to contribute more actively.

After breakfast, she joined Tanjiro in the storage room, where he was preparing coal for their trip to the village. The room was filled with the earthy scent of coal and wood, and the dim light cast a comforting ambiance around them. Nezuko had gifted her a new yukata, a lovely shade of pale blue that brought out the warmth in her skin and complemented her dark hair. The haori she wore, with its embroidered wisteria flowers, added a touch of elegance to her appearance, creating a stark contrast against the rustic backdrop of the storage room.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Tanjiro greeted her, a wide smile breaking across his face as he worked. “Ready to help?”

“Good morning, Tanjiro!” she replied, returning his smile. “Of course! What do you need me to do?”

He gestured to the bags of coal stacked neatly in one corner of the room. “We need to pack these up for the village. It’ll be easier if we do it together.”

Y/N stepped closer, picking up a small bag and feeling its weight in her hands. She quickly fell into a rhythm alongside Tanjiro, the two of them working together to fill the bags. As they moved about the small room, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Tanjiro. He was focused, the muscles in his arms flexing with each movement, and she found herself admiring the way he carried himself with both strength and grace.

After a while, they had finished packing, and Tanjiro tied the last bag shut with a satisfied grin. “That should do it!” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “Now we just need to carry these down to the village.”

As they prepared to leave, Tanjiro hesitated for a moment, looking thoughtful. “You know,” he began, his voice casual, “you could join me on the trip. Maybe someone in the village will recognize you.”

Y/N paused, her heart quickening at the thought. “You really think so?” she asked, trying to suppress the flutter of hope that bloomed within her. “Maybe someone there will know me?”

“Exactly! It’s worth a shot,” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “And it would be nice to have some company on the way. It can get pretty lonely on the trail.”

Y/N smiled at the prospect, her earlier frustrations momentarily forgotten. “I’d like that,” she agreed, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

Tanjiro nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Let’s go then! We should hurry before it gets too late.”

As they made their way down the mountain, Y/N was surprised at how easily she navigated the familiar path. Each step felt more certain, her body growing stronger with every move she made. The crisp mountain air filled her lungs, invigorating her as they descended. The path wound through the trees, and the world around them was alive with the sounds of nature—the crunch of snow underfoot, the rustle of leaves, and the distant chirping of birds welcoming the day.

Tanjiro walked beside her, their pace steady as they chatted about the village and what they might encounter there. She found herself laughing at his stories, the warmth of their conversation easing the remnants of her anxiety. With each passing moment, it felt more and more natural to be by his side.

But as they neared the village, Tanjiro’s gaze shifted toward her, and he suddenly seemed lost in thought. Y/N caught him staring and raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?”

He blinked, slightly taken aback, and shook his head with a small smile. “No, it’s just… you look really beautiful today, Y/N.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat at his compliment, a wave of warmth rushing over her. “Thank you, Tanjiro,” she replied, a shy smile forming on her lips. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, and he quickly averted his gaze back to the path ahead, but Y/N noticed the glimmer of happiness in his expression. The moment hung between them, filled with an unspoken connection that made her heart race. 

As they finally reached the edge of the village, the scene before them unfolded like a living painting. The quaint homes were nestled together, smoke curling from chimneys, and villagers bustled about, going about their daily routines. The lively chatter and laughter echoed in the air, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat wafting from nearby stalls.

“Let’s go!” Tanjiro said, breaking the momentary silence. He stepped forward with confidence, and Y/N followed closely behind, feeling an exhilarating mix of excitement and nervousness wash over her. This was a new world, and perhaps here, amidst the lively villagers, she might find the answers she sought.

As they entered the village, Y/N felt a twinge of anticipation, her heart beating steadily in her chest. The possibility of discovering something about herself filled her with hope, and with Tanjiro by her side, she felt ready to face whatever awaited them.

The village buzzed with life, a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds that was both exhilarating and overwhelming for Y/N. As she walked alongside Tanjiro, her heart danced with excitement, the quaint stalls and cheerful villagers sparking a sense of wonder within her. They passed vendors selling everything from fresh produce to handmade crafts, the air thick with the enticing aroma of grilled meats and sweet pastries.

Tanjiro’s laughter rang out as he pointed toward a stall that sold colorful woven bracelets. “Those look really nice! We should get one before we leave,” he said, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

Y/N nodded, feeling the warmth of his energy wash over her. However, just as they were about to approach the stall, a sudden commotion erupted nearby. Tanjiro turned to her, concern flashing across his face. “Stay close! I’ll check it out,” he urged, before rushing toward the source of the noise.

Caught off guard, Y/N hesitated for a moment. The crowd shifted around her, pulling her along with it, and before she knew it, Tanjiro had vanished into the throng of people. Panic fluttered in her chest as she turned, trying to spot his familiar silhouette among the sea of villagers.

“Tanjiro!” she called, her voice barely rising above the cacophony of chatter and laughter, but the crowd swallowed her words, and he was nowhere to be found. Y/N felt a sense of helplessness wash over her. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. This wasn’t the first time she had found herself alone, and she would find her way back to him.

As she navigated through the bustling village, she decided to explore a little on her own, hoping to discover something that might jog her memory. The path led her down narrow alleyways, away from the noise and chaos of the main square. The village took on a different feel here; the air was cooler, and the shadows seemed to deepen.

Turning a corner, Y/N found herself in a secluded alleyway, the light filtering in through the buildings above, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Her curiosity piqued as she stepped further inside, the sounds of the village fading away. It was quiet here, almost serene, and for a moment, she felt a sense of peace enveloping her.

But then, her gaze fell upon something that made her heart race. Stuck firmly in the ground before her was a striking sword, its blade shimmering with a deep purple hue. The black guard wrapped around the hilt gleamed ominously in the dim light, and a strange energy radiated from it, tugging at her senses.

Y/N felt drawn to the sword, a compulsion she couldn’t quite explain. It was as if it were calling her name, whispering secrets of a life she could not remember. She stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest, a mixture of awe and trepidation swelling within her.

The sword stood tall and proud, yet it felt out of place in the alley, as if it were waiting for her to acknowledge it. She hesitated, her fingers twitching as they reached out toward the hilt, but something deep within her held her back. A voice in her mind whispered that this sword belonged to a different life, a life she had left behind. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, a warning that echoed in the recesses of her consciousness.

Y/N took a step back, shaking her head slightly as she tried to clear her thoughts. “What are you doing?” she whispered to herself. “You don’t even know where it came from.” 

She felt an odd mix of bravery and uncertainty, standing there before the sword. No fear resided in her heart; rather, it was a profound understanding that whatever this weapon represented was tied to her past—one she couldn’t quite grasp yet.

She wanted to take it, to claim that part of herself, but a sense of responsibility held her back. What would it mean to wield a sword? Did it come with a burden? Did it mean embracing a destiny she couldn’t yet comprehend? Her hand hovered just above the hilt, the allure of power beckoning her, but she stepped back again, shaking her head in confusion.

“No,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t.”

With a heavy heart, she turned away from the sword, the pull of it still resonating within her. There was a deep-seated longing to understand why it called to her, but for now, she would leave it behind. As she retraced her steps through the alley, the weight of that moment lingered in her mind, a poignant reminder of the life she was still trying to reclaim.

Just as she stepped back into the main street of the village, the sounds of laughter and chatter flooded her senses again, and she took a deep breath, grounding herself in the familiar chaos. She had to find Tanjiro; he would be worried. But as she moved forward, her thoughts remained tangled in the mystery of the sword, the questions it raised hanging heavy in the air. 

Unbeknownst to her, the life of the sword was far from over, and the answers she sought would soon find her in ways she could never have imagined.

Hours passed as Y/N wandered the vibrant village, the earlier excitement of exploration gradually giving way to a deep-seated longing to reunite with Tanjiro. The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden hues across the landscape, but the warmth of the day was beginning to fade, and with it, her confidence. She had searched every corner she could think of, but there was still no sign of him.

Just as she began to feel the weight of despair settle over her, Y/N rounded a corner and spotted him standing outside a small stall, animatedly talking to a vendor. Relief flooded her heart at the sight of his familiar figure, and she rushed toward him, her pace quickening with every step.

“Tanjiro!” she called out, her voice tinged with both excitement and relief. He turned at the sound of her voice, his expression brightening instantly.

“Y/N!” Tanjiro exclaimed, breaking into a wide grin as he rushed toward her. The moment they were close enough, he pulled her into a warm embrace. “I was worried! I lost sight of you for a moment.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I got a little carried away exploring. But I’m so glad I found you!”

As they pulled apart, Tanjiro glanced at her wrist, and a soft smile crossed his face. “I got you something.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate bracelet, its color reminiscent of his own bright, warm eyes—a beautiful shade of turquoise with small beads that caught the fading sunlight.

“Oh, Tanjiro, it’s lovely!” Y/N exclaimed, her heart swelling as he gently slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. The weight of it was comforting, a symbol of their bond. “Thank you!”

He beamed at her, clearly pleased that she liked it. “I thought it would suit you perfectly.”

As they began to make their way back toward the mountain, the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in vibrant shades of orange and pink. The beauty of the moment wrapped around them like a warm blanket, and Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of belonging.

However, as they navigated the winding path, their peaceful return was interrupted by a figure stepping out from the shadows. Tanjiro immediately halted, a serious expression crossing his face. Y/N followed his gaze and found herself staring at a man with sharp features and piercing eyes. His clothes were simple yet well-worn, suggesting he was accustomed to life in the mountains.

“Tanjiro Kamado,” the man said, his voice steady and authoritative. “You need to be careful.”

Tanjiro straightened, his brows furrowing. “Saburo? What are you doing here?”

“Just a friendly warning.” The man, who Y/N now realized was named Saburo, glanced at Y/N before returning his gaze to Tanjiro. “The nights in the mountains can be dangerous. I advise you to stay at my house for the night.”

Y/N felt a twinge of uncertainty as she looked from Tanjiro to Saburo. She didn’t know this man, and instinctively, her senses were on high alert. But the concern in Tanjiro’s eyes softened her apprehension.

“Are you sure?” Tanjiro asked, his voice laced with caution. “I don’t want to impose.”

Saburo shook his head, his expression firm. “It’s not an imposition. The mountains can be treacherous, especially as night falls. You’ll be safer under my roof.”

Y/N watched the exchange, feeling the tension in the air. Though she didn’t know Saburo, there was something in the way he carried himself that spoke of experience and strength. And if Tanjiro trusted him, perhaps she could, too.

“Okay,” Tanjiro finally said, looking back at her with a reassuring smile. “We’ll stay. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a mix of relief and lingering unease. As they followed Saburo through the winding streets of the village, she stole glances at Tanjiro, who seemed deep in thought. The vibrant colors of the sunset cast a warm glow around them, but a chill ran down her spine, a silent reminder of the unknown dangers that lurked beyond the safety of the village.

They arrived at Saburo’s home, a modest wooden structure nestled at the edge of the village. The interior was warm and inviting, a fire crackling in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the walls. Saburo gestured for them to sit at a low table as he began to prepare tea.

Y/N took a seat, her mind still racing with thoughts of the sword she had encountered earlier. The image of it stuck in the ground lingered in her mind, but she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the present. She was here with Tanjiro, and that was all that mattered for now.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Y/N said to Saburo as he poured hot tea into three small cups, the steam rising in delicate tendrils.

“Of course,” Saburo replied, his demeanor shifting slightly as he took a seat across from them. “But it’s not just hospitality; it’s necessary. The mountains hold many secrets, and not all are friendly. You should stay close to each other and be aware of your surroundings.”

Y/N exchanged a glance with Tanjiro, who nodded solemnly in agreement. “We understand,” he said, his voice steady. “We’ll be careful.”

As they sipped their tea, the conversation turned to lighter topics—stories of the village, tales of past adventures, and the bonds of friendship. Y/N found herself relaxing in Saburo’s presence, the warmth of the fire and the comfort of the tea soothing her nerves.

But as night fell and shadows danced on the walls, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Saburo than met the eye. The unease from earlier settled in her stomach, and she glanced at Tanjiro, who seemed oblivious to the lingering tension. 

“Maybe tomorrow,” she thought to herself, letting out a small sigh. For now, they were safe, and she was grateful for the kindness shown by Saburo and Tanjiro. But deep down, she knew the mysteries of her past would soon beckon her again, and she was determined to uncover the truth—whatever it may be.

[poebot]

Part 2 of toxic when babe?😫

a/n: right here angel ! sorry for the wait. i was kinda high when i wrote this so here’s to hoping its coherent. enjoy~

summary: Tension arises as Abby finally confronts Ellie.

warnings: sfw again (for now 🥸)

tag(s): @thatonementallyillsimp @blvebanisters lemme know if you wanna get tagged when i update :)

“Toxic” Ellabs / F!Reader Part 2 | Part 1

Abby’s breathing became increasingly rapid as she came to terms with the fact that she was actually doing this. Actually approaching Ellie in a confrontation that didn’t consist of passive aggressive remarks that went over your head or telling you to break up with her every chance she gets in private. It was both exhilarating and mortifying.

She had finally managed to manoeuvre her way through the crowd of sweaty bodies to get to you. “Hey, can I grab you for a second?” Abby said as she reached you both. You tapped subtly on Ellie’s arms to get her to loosen her grip on your waist, noticing the way her hold tightened up as Abby approached.

“Yeah, Abs. What’s up?” Your words were slightly slurred and breathy as you smiled warmly up at the girl, eyes misty with intoxication. Her cheeks were quick to flush, stomach fluttering incessantly. You were so beautiful to Abby that it physically hurt. Especially with that cute nickname slipping past those pretty lips. Ellie watched the exchange in silence, her tongue pocking the inside of her cheek. She finally spoke up, tired of watching her girl get ogled in front of her.

“What do you need to say to her that I can’t hear, Anderson?” Abby scoffed at her, folding her arms across her chest. God, she was such a dick. “Can’t hog her the whole night, Williams.” The quip left her mouth almost like a reflex.

Like being flushed with cold water, you suddenly sobered up enough to notice the tension in the air as the girls stared each other down, practically sizing each other up. The hard set of Abby’s jaw and the way Ellie’s fingers were flexing by your thigh made you instantly anxious, your brain steamrolling into prevention mode. “Hey, why are you guys being so weird? Whatever this is, please drop it.” Abby chuckled humourlessly, still locking eyes with the brunette. She expected her to falter by now, but her eyes still screamed ‘I’ll kick your ass’.

“It’s your girlfriend that seems to be the problem here, doll.” Ellie immediately tensed at the nickname, cocking her head to the side. “Doll?”

Your eyebrows rose, incredulous that this was actually happening. On the night you specifically dedicated to de-stressing and forgetting about your fucked up love life. “You aren’t my girlfriend,” You pocked a manicured nail into Ellie’s chest as her eyes followed the movement of your finger. “And you need to stop purposefully being a prick.” You rounded on Abby with hurt in your eyes. The girls attention both turned to you and you saw the exact moment the panic and regret set in.

“Shit- sorry babe, I wasn’t trying to pick a fight-“ “I didn’t mean to piss you off-“ Their voices overlapped in explanation, but you were already leaving them on the dance floor, heading towards the bar to order another cocktail. Neither dared to follow you in fear of making shit worse.

“Fuck you, Abby.” Ellie groaned, her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “You pulled that shit on purpose.”

Abby frowned to herself, suddenly unwilling to make eye contact. This wasn’t at all her plan going into it, but it definitely got you out of Ellie’s arms for the night. She scowled at the ground, her mood turned sour. “She said she’s done with your ass. You need to learn to take a hint when a girl gives you one.”

“Didn’t seem very done to me.” Ellie muttered under her breath, mostly to herself as she stalked off to a far away corner of the club. But Abby heard, and it stung. Because she was right. You were still clearly infatuated with her.

She stood there, in the middle of the dance floor, shitty pop music blaring from the surround speakers. Abby remembered vividly why she rarely goes to these places. Then she glanced over at you slumped slightly in your stool, looking deflated as you sipped on your fruity drink from a straw. The excitement and joy at the beginning of the night was completely absent from you. She missed your sunny smile from moments ago.

Shit. She really needed to fix this.

[homestuckreplay]

Crash Bandicoot: The Wrath of Jack Noir

(page 1923-1933; ‘[S] John: Reunite with your loving wife and daughter.’)

Picking up in AR?’s meteor lab (separate from John’s), he hides as the Draconian Dignitary appears with Rose’s journals and Dave’s discs in tow. AR knows that DD is dangerous, but still suspects him of frog crimes. AR is kind of like the characters in cop shows who are trying to root out corruption at the very top of the police force – there is absolutely no way he can personally solve this problem, but the good intent is better than excusing it? Maybe the reason he gets exiled is because he tries to speak out against Jack Noir when he realizes Jack has broken plenty of laws himself.

Dave’s beta discs end up in the capsule by accident, and Complacency of the Learned lands on the floor. When Jade arrives in the ruins 413 million years in the future that journal is gone, so, I guess a pretty big window of time for something to happen to it. But the only people I know of who might go into those ruins are Bec and Grandpa Harley, and neither of them strike me as big readers. Bec could teleport it somewhere if he knew it was important, so that’s my guess. Possibly it ends up in Rose’s dream bedroom to inspire her creative work while awake, similar to how Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff works for Dave.

The MEOW journals, filled with genetic code, are what DD is really looking for as he moves to slimeclone Halley from the monitor. So as well as paradox clones and mutant clones, DD is creating a third type – genetically modified clones, where the DNA is purposefully edited to give a clone space warping and lightning powers (I presume). Halley and Bec are dogs, but a dog’s powers can only be leveled up with cat themed DNA, because Homestuck isn’t afraid to admit that cats are better forever.

I think it’s really interesting how the final arc of Act 4 is taking place in these two labs, and is so focused on technology. It’s similar to the final arc of Act 2, which took place in WV’s Sburb bunker, and saw him explore the command terminal and appearifier – but that differed from the rest of Act 2 because it focused on WV, where before we’d only focused on the kids. Act 4 has mostly been about broadening the story into loose fantasy concepts, exploring entire planets and setting up long term quests. Then suddenly, at the end, we drill back down into a very precise science with strict rules, more similar to the captchalogue systems of early acts. And, like every end of act so far, there’s a countdown timer. It’s only been mentioned by CG and hasn’t actually been shown on screen, but I have a good idea of how many minutes and seconds there might be until the Reckoning.

So in a way, it feels like Act 4 has been giving readers a false sense of security – making it feel like there’s a lot of time to play in the space and figure out the middlegame of Sburb, when in fact the ending has been sneaking up fast. So I’m experiencing the same thing that John is, where we both feel completely unprepared for the game to end so soon, still without much idea of what we’re trying to achieve here.

EB: ok, well you keep saying how doomed we are and how all this bad stuff happens sooner, but you never say why! EB: what happens in our game that's different from yours that makes things go so badly? CG: JACK NOIR. (p.1929)

This is clearly an important reveal from CG because it comes right before a page break, and most troll chatlogs don’t get page breaks! The thing is that Jack’s ascension definitely explains why everything gets fucked up in the kids’ session, but doesn’t even come close to explaining how the trolls are affected. In fact, CG explains at length how their versions of Jack Noir are completely different and don’t affect each other.

CG: YOUR RECKONING STARTS MUCH SOONER CG: BECAUSE OF SOME DUMB THINGS YOU'VE DONE [...] CG: IT'S WHAT YOU DO LATER THAT CAUSES SO MUCH MORE TROUBLE THAN THAT CG: AND NOW WE HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT TOO. (p.1667)

So, the ‘dumb things’ the beta kids have done are letting the green package fall into Jack’s hands, giving him the power to kill the queen, ascend, and begin the Reckoning sooner. And their response to the Reckoning happening too early, throwing them into the lategame before they’re prepared for it and causing them to take some wild swings, are what affects the trolls too.

CG: [JACK] SETTLED A GRUDGE AGAINST THE QUEEN BY HELPING US DETHRONE AND EXILE HER. CG: AND THEN HE WOUND UP EXILED HIMSELF, AND SORT OF KEPT HELPING US THROUGH A COMMAND TERMINAL ON OUR OLD PLANET. CG: HE'S KIND OF A HUGE ASSHOLE THOUGH. (p.1930)

For CG to call someone a huge asshole, they must be pretty bad, right? Anyway, to win a game of chess, it’s 100% necessary to checkmate the king (in Sburb’s case, kill the king). Capturing (killing) the opponent’s queen is highly desirable as she’s the most powerful piece, but it’s not necessary. In Sburb’s case, she just needs to be neutralized as a threat. This is great backstory for Spades Slick and Snowman, so I wonder if the Intermission will become relevant again soon. If somehow, Jack in the kids’ session is going to do something that affects all versions of himself in all previous sessions, affecting Slick sometime after the point the Intermission left off, and causing him to stop being an ally and instead take revenge on the trolls? The idea of multiple unrelated instances of a game session somehow collapsing into one is cool to think about in terms of games I’ve played. It would explain why CG is taking so much time to stress how the sessions are usually distinct, and would explain how come the trolls can contact the kids in the first place.

John’s example of an Earth video game is Crash Bandicoot, which is not one of the games on his CD rack (p.31). I’m half surprised John didn’t explicitly call out Problem Sleuth in this moment, and I guess the Ghostbusters II MMORPG wouldn’t make much sense for the point CG is trying to make. I’ve never played Crash Bandicoot myself, but looking it up, I learned that Crash is a ‘genetically enhanced bandicoot’ which is an actual type of marsupial (I had no idea that was a real animal?!?!) created by a mad scientist who he’s trying to fight back against. So that’s an interesting example to choose two pages after a Derse antagonist shows up in a lab and starts doing genetic modification.

CG: YOUR JACK GOT THE BEST OF BOTH OF THEM, AND IS NOW SOMETHING HIGHER THAN A QUEEN OR A KING... EB: like an ace? (p.1930)

Okay no joke, these two lines are one of my favorite moments in the story so far. CG has been discussing Sburb as chess game, and John smoothly slides this to playing cards, which makes sense for him as a magician who likes card tricks, even though he has no idea Slick associates himself with cards in the trolls’ session. This move from chess to playing cards indicates that by ascending, Jack has literally changed the game – not just modifying the rules, but altering its very nature. Jack being an ace also reminds me of Harry Anderson’s ‘old HOLE IN THE ACE trick’ (p.630), the trick that inspired John to experiment with punch card alchemy. The trick is all about altering cards by punching holes in them, which could be seen as equivalent to prototyping, and then using sleight of hand to cause the hole to ‘disappear, or move to another part of the card’ (p.630). So again, some sort of magic trick that could cause Jack’s prototyping to move to a different version of himself, powering up Spades Slick too?

Jack speculation is all well and good, but there’s more important things happening here – specifically, bunnies. CG is resigned to John’s bunny antics before they happen, while John is confused as to what he’s talking about, until he has a sudden realization that doesn’t appear to stem from CG’s complaints at all.

CG: YEAH YEAH, YOU MIGHT AS WELL GET IT OVER WITH AND GIVE HER THE LOUSY RABBIT ALREADY. EB: oh!!!!! EB: oh man, i just had THE BEST idea, this is so perfect. EB: a blonde mother and daughter together, this is totally perfect. (p.1930)

So, Hussie is assuming that Rose and Mom are white. Like, through ectobiology all things are possible and I think it’s cool if people ignore this line and interpret them differently, but author intent says they’re white, as is Bro – John calls him a ‘white guy who is a rapper’ (p.386) – and by extension Dave, as both his biological parents are white. It’s hard to say how I feel about this. On the one hand, presenting characters as a blank slate who are open to interpretation (as the kids have mostly been up til now) is the same as a white person claiming they ‘don’t see color’; it’s a way to seem progressive without having to put in the work of learning about other cultures. So acknowledging outright that these kids are white is in some way better than a halfhearted attempt at representation. On the other hand, some fans care a lot about what’s officially canon, so calling these characters white does close the door on fan representations that build on canon, instead of contradicting it. In general, I’ve really enjoyed coming up with headcanons about the kids’ lives before Sburb, which are entirely my interpretation because Homestuck leaves that space very open for fans to explore, so I think I’d prefer it overall if their race was left unstated too, though I can see arguments for both sides.

(For what it’s worth, I think Grandpa Harley is unfortunately the most white coded guy of all time, but I think it’d be cool if Nanna was black. Her being a Black female business owner who gets to break away from a difficult childhood and go on to live through the civilrights movement and have a family of her own is cool to me, and that would make Jade and John mixed race, which stops the uncomfortable idea that all the people responsible for ensuring the future of humanity are white.)

Anyway, the Con Air themed flash, ‘[S] John: Reunite with your loving wife and daughter’ (p.1631) is really, really good. John pulls off the rare and highly dangerous Double Bunny Gambit, giving one bunny to Rose and one to Jade as seen on the ectobiology cloning screen, meaning that John’s desire to re-enact scenes from Con Air is not only important to his character but vital to the timeline. The idea of loving a piece of media SO much that it becomes essential to the fabric of the universe is beautiful to me.

This is a pretty unique flash overall! It’s the first one to feature the trolls – carcinoGeneticist and a surprise gallowsCalibrator coming over to watch – and the first to use extensive live action footage mixed in with the artwork, like a Homestuck/Con Air AMV. John isn’t watching Con Air right now (though he might be actually singing the song), but he knows it well enough to play it in his head, so a lot of this is happening in John’s imagination. The scribbled art style indicates this, as it’s been used for Jade’s imagination in the past. Speaking of Jade, the presence of a second bunny and a second small child is non-canon to Con Air, but it’s so fun that John loved the bunny bestowal moment so much that he couldn’t resist doing it again. Also, baby Rose, Jade and Mom are all adorable here, and all seem pretty enraptured with John’s antics. John is right to cross out the ‘THIS IS STUPID’. It is actually incredibly important to provide enrichment and contact for these babies in their first few minutes of life. Plus John’s about to have a pretty rough twenty-four hours with the Reckoning on the horizon, so any moment where he gets to be a kid is valuable in itself.

John casting Dave and CG as his associates and Jack Noir as the villain makes me want to rewatch the movie and consider how well they fit those roles. If there IS a weaponized bunny in the green package, the Jack moment is extra effective, because he really is holding that bunny hostage and using it as a bargaining chip right now.

The curtains close on Act 4, and then re-open. I’m glad – this flash is excellent, but doesn’t feel like an end of act. We still need to see the Reckoning’s countdown timer, plus the shot of CG looking at his computer screen positions this bunny event as right before Jade enters the Medium. So my guess for the end of act is that Jade enters by means other than John’s server disc, we finally see Dave’s entry and what’s going on with the mysterious missing guardian Bro, DD finishes his genetic modification, and the Reckoning begins. Hussie’s newspost says they’re hoping to have the end of act posted on 5/31, with a couple regular updates before then. I’m scared and excited. ‘[S] Enter’ is going to be hard to beat.

[thecomfywriter]

Why do you think Hilbert has so many simps?

okay! welcome to hilbert day! starting it off with a fun one. hi sol! thanks for the ask! let's get straight into it!

day five of tcw's 12 days of askmas--hilbert's peculiar fanbase [no spoilers]:

this is goofy because i think i actually know the reason why (unlike morreial). there are a couple of reasons i've picked up on for why hilbert has "simps".

(1) he's an interesting character:

i feel like this is the biggest factor, but i might be wrong. hilbert as a person might suck ass, but as a character, functionally for the narrative, he's FASCINATING. bro is mysterious. he's a villain, sure, but he's conflicting because in his pov, he's almost persuasive. not only towards alan, but (as i have experienced it) towards the reader as well. i feel like while reading hilbert's chapters, i found myself liking him more and justifying his existence in the story. he might be rotten to the core, but the guy exudes presence and a certain level of charisma that keeps him intriguing and entertaining.

plus, there's the entire desire to figure out what he's actually like. what is his true face? how does he look when he's not manipulating someone? who was he before the plot started? a big part of hilbert's character is the uncertainty behind his lore, which kinsa incites people to figuring him out. you almost want to make a definitive opinion about him, but each pov represents him in such conflicting ways, its hard to set your mind on if he's actually a good person or not. alan is deadset on believing hilbert has changed and wants to redeem himself. caramel refuses to even entertain the idea. morreial is just pissy at him, and cara has an odd sense of neutrality and fondness. soilaila hates him enough to try and mob him on the first day, but no one is actually arresting him for some reason. even without his limious status, he seems to hold the most power in this situation, and it begs the question why and how.

(2) bro was a dilf:

I KNOW THIS ANSWER IS WAY MORE UNSERIOUS THAN THE LAST ONE. LMAO. HEAR ME OUT.

hilbert in his prime is the entire reason why i personally started to feel conflicted about him. apart from being gorgeous (bruh... the luscious silver hair, the battle scars over his muscular body, the striking baby blue eyes, the slightly blushed cheeks and his maleficent smile? bye-- i had no business making him that majestic 😭😭), he also had this glory to him. there was a slight arrogance, but it almost felt like he deserved it. bro held the limious title for SIXTY YEARS. he went from being a nobody earth-elemental to one of the most powerful people in soilaila. he rose the ranks, got knighted by von doro herself, and became markum's biggest rival. he has this esteem to him that is simultaneously commanding and hot as balls.

THERE. I SAID IT. ARE YOU HAPPY?

all of hilbert's young chapters in sai just had me simping in the comments of the annotated draft LOL. i was so far gone it was embarrassing.

(3) the narrative:

the narrative purposefully tricks the audience a lot of the time, mainly because alan has the most chapters, and he sees hilbert in this truly respectable light. paired with how much magic hilbert knows, there's a certain degree of fascination to him that is naturally developed over the course of the book.

--

again, i could be totally wrong about all of these. for all we know, it was that one hilbert edit and the fact that bro has a v-line of the gods that caused him to develop his fanbase. you'd have to ask them. but these are personally my reasons for being on the fence with this guy. as i said previously, he's rotten to the core, but my god is he fascinating.

thanks for the ask, sol!

-- the holiday limited-edition tag list --

@wyked-ao3 @an-indecisive-nerd @drchenquill

@paeliae-occasionally @theink-stainedfolk @inseasofgreen

@thelovelymachinery @the-letterbox-archives @illarian-rambling

@bunnymermaidwrites @the-golden-comet @sm-writes-chaos

@leahnardo-da-veggie @corinneglass

[please tell me if you don't wanna be tagged i promise i will stop 🥺]

[godofstupidsentences]

some of my and my friend’s headcanons for the Scamander twins that just makes sense to me

Lysander is a Hufflepuff, Lorcan is a Ravenclaw. They’re in Albus’ year

Lysander is eccentric like his mother and his father, Lorcan is eccentric like a misantrope that lives in a cave on the top of a mountain and hasn’t had a sigle human interaction in twenty years. Safe to say who’s the black sheep of the family

The KINGS of yearning. Vastly different approaches when in love but they both worship their loved one, they would do anything for them. Too bad the yearning only paid off for one of them ops sorry Lorcan

Both massive geeks but in completely different fields. Lorcan is going to write the next big History of Magic, Lysander knows the entirety of Hamilton by heart

They play D&D. Lorcan is the DM, Lysander either plays an elf with the most complex backstory ever or plays a mouse who was transformed into a human

Lorcan has some kind of unilateral beef with almost every student at Hogwarts while Lysander calls “my friend” even some guy who he only spoke to once

Back at home they still share a bunk bed and they’ve never even thought of asking for separate rooms. Lorcan sleeps in the bottom bed, Lysander in the top one

They have very distinctive styles and rarely share clothes BUT their sock are always purposefully mismatched bc they like, buy two pairs of socks and each of them pick a sock from the pair. So Lorcan’s right sock is plain blue and his left one is neon pink with yellow stars, and vice versa

Lorcan and Rose Weasley are THE academic rivals. Things get a bit out of hand in their seventh year when they try to poison each other and end up in the infirmary. Eventually their relationship will evolve from rivals to friends (they keep on ending up in the same places after hogwarts) until at one point they will realize that the other has accidentally become their best friend

Lysander and Lucy Weasley had a thing for years where they would both flirts shamelessly with each other and occasionally make out while not actively dating, but not bc of some issue or whatever. They just both didn’t mind the causality, but they do eventually start dating fr when they’re both out of Hogwarts

Lysander wears his heart in on sleeve, Lorcan keeps his cards close to his chest. An yet, nobody truly ever knows what’s going on in Lysander’s head, while everyone knows than Lorcan is in love with Albus

Lysander takes whatever their mother says very seriously, and even the ever-rational Lorcan finds himself doing certain things to not anger the creatures™️

Lorcan’s favorite subject is history of magic, Lysander’s favorite subject is transfiguration

I have many more for them and also for all the characters but imma stop here for now lmao

[lesbiankimdahyun]

HUNTER AND HUNTED: A HALLOWEEN MISAMO SPECIAL

CHAPTER IV

1.5K words

[GP!Vampire!Mina x VampireHunter!Jihyo]

CW: vampires, angst i fear...

[AO3 link]

Jihyo jumped a little when the knock on her door finally came. She hadn’t realized how mildly triggering it would be to actually open her door to a vampire and invite one inside, but she smiled graciously when she saw Mina at her doorstep. “Come on in,” she said, stepping aside. Her heart rate rose a bit as she watched Mina move across the threshold. Her moment of emotional discomfort was worth it though, because for the very first time, Jihyo got to see Mina without her dark sunglasses on. 

Her eyes were one of the most unique shades of brown Jihyo had ever seen, almost like they had a trace of wine-colored red around the edge. And wait– had Mina always had those adorable beauty marks? How had she never seen them clearly before? 

“Wow,” she blurted, releasing the slightly taller girl from a light hug. “Your eyes! I mean, your eyes are really nice,” she said. Mina giggled as she followed Jihyo inside. “Thank you,” she said. “Yours, too.” 

They didn’t dive into the movie right away. Mina joined Jihyo on her couch, taking in her surroundings. Jihyo’s apartment was functional and neat, and it was clear she was big on (and extremely skilled at) DIY projects. They chatted casually for the first hour or so, all the while slowly growing closer to each other– emotionally and physically. Jihyo felt like she was looking at Mina for the very first time, and in a way, she was. 

Curious to learn more about Jihyo, Mina asked to see some of Jihyo’s latest photography that she’d been working on outside of work. Jihyo happily obliged, pulling up a series of home/homeowner architectural portraits as part of a photo essay she’d started in the last few months. She’d been to various cities and neighborhoods, capturing slices of the people and the way they lived along the way.

“Hey,” Mina said, pausing at a series of three photos. She recognized the heavily wooded preserve she lived near instantly. “I live right around there. Who did you photograph up there?” 

“Really?” Jihyo asked. “It’s funny you ask because I actually don’t have any portraits of people who live in some of those stunning condos yet. The whole area is private property, I can’t even get close enough to ask folks if they’d let me photograph.” 

Mina hummed in response. “That’s true, isn’t it,” she said, as if the vampire hadn’t purposefully picked an extremely remote, private, hard-to-break-into community. “I’d let you photograph my apartment but…I don’t own it,” she said. It was a lie– Mina very much owned her two bedroom home, but the vampire would need to have Sana or Momo look at it first to make sure it looked normal to regular humans.

They moved on from the photography, and Jihyo ordered dinner for the two of them. She refused to let Mina pay or even think about contributing to paying. She ordered soju too, and soon the two were talking and laughing over seaweed salad, soft tofu soup and grilled pork belly. Jihyo refreshed their soju before starting the movie, and when she sat down again after starting it, she confidently sat right next to Mina, her shoulder brushing against the vampire’s. 

Her inviting scent immediately distracted Mina, who found herself glancing more at Jihyo out of the corner of her eye than the actual movie. Even the scenes with blood in them couldn’t take Mina’s focus away from the beautiful woman right next to her. She sipped more soju, hoping it would relax her. Right before the makeout scene, Mina couldn’t help but glance over at Jihyo again. 

“Mina,” said Jihyo softly, leaning in a little toward the vampire. “I can feel you looking at me, you know,” she said, a small smile on her lips. 

Mina felt herself blush. “Oh,” she whispered, “I-I’m sorry.” 

Jihyo set down her soju. “Don’t be,” she said. She watched for a moment as Needy’s lips exploratively connected with Jennifer’s. Then she looked back at Mina. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” 

Mina nodded immediately, making Jihyo let out a tiny huff of a laugh as she turned to face the vampire and leaned in. 

The moment Jihyo’s soft, warm lips met Mina’s, the movie was forgotten. Mina wasn’t sure if it was the soju, the experience of kissing someone new, or Jihyo’s intoxicating scent, but either way, the vampire’s head spun a little as she kissed her. And when Jihyo’s tongue met hers? Mina felt like she could’ve passed out from the pleasure. Wanting more, Jihyo pulled Mina a little closer, and then closer still until Mina was gently pushing Jihyo back on the couch and lightly settling on top of her. 

Jihyo’s quickened, excited heart beat drove Mina crazy. Their makeout grew a little heavier, their hands exploring each other’s bodies over their clothes. Coming up for air for a moment, Mina cupped Jihyo’s face in her hand, her fingers brushing over Jihyo’s earlobe. Suddenly, Mina felt a piercing pain on her finger and recoiled, sucking in her breath at the burning sensation it caused. Jihyo sat up, too, touching her ear to see what had caused it. She felt it immediately.

“My silver studs,” she said, “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot I had them in, I should have known.” 

“It’s okay–” Mina stopped. “What do you mean, should have known?” For a few seconds, the movie playing in the background was the only source of sound in the room while Mina and Jihyo stared at each other, both in fear. “How did you– when did you–” Mina backed up a bit. 

Jihyo looked nervous. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I’m not supposed to know. I wanted to let you tell me, if you ever wanted to, but spotting them– v-vampires, I mean– was a big part of my past.” She looked up at Mina, who looked absolutely petrified. 

“You’re…you’re a…” Mina wasn’t sure if she should feel sick or scared. “A hunter?” 

Jihyo shook her head. “No– I mean– I only ever trained– except for–” Jihyo closed her eyes for a moment, frustrated at herself. Then she looked at Mina again. “I would never tell anyone, or do anything to hurt you,” Jihyo said. She felt as if she might cry. “I swear.” It was the truth. 

Mina stood up and took a few steps back. “Does anyone else know?” she asked, panic rising in her voice as she suddenly remembered she had just been making out with a journalist. 

“No, no,” Jihyo said. “No one, I swear. Just me.” Mina seemed on the verge of tears and she stepped back again. “Is that why you came up to me that day?” 

Jihyo was standing now, too. “No, Mina, no,” she said. “I genuinely was on assignment that day. I don’t actively hunt,” she said again. 

“But you trained to be one,” Mina said quickly. She swallowed hard. “Why?” 

This was not how Jihyo had envisioned their night going. She crossed her arms, then sighed. “You’ll never look at me the same way if I tell you,” she said quietly. 

“How am I supposed to trust you?” Mina asked. “This is– I can’t do this,” the vampire murmured, reaching for her jacket on the back of one of Jihyo’s kitchen chairs.

“Wait, Mina,” Jihyo said, taking a few steps toward her. “Don’t go, I’ll tell you.” 

Mina stopped. She turned and stared at Jihyo in silence for a few seconds. Her unblinking, intense gaze was the first time Jihyo ever felt Mina’s powerful, supernatural presence. But then, the vampire quietly took off her jacket and pulled out the chair to sit down. “You have five minutes,” she said.  

So Jihyo explained. Explained who her grandparents were, who her parents were, and what her life had been like growing up. She gave Mina the names of the clans and bands of vampires her family had eliminated– as many as she could remember, anyway. She gave Mina dates, names, any information the vampire wanted. And then she explained the only time she’d ever hunted, the night her parents died. 

Mina’s entire demeanor changed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Those were some awful years back then, toward the end.” She took a breath. She was coming down from her fight or flight response now. “Jihyo,” she said, getting up again. She shook her head. “What we’re doing… I don’t know if this is a good idea.” 

Jihyo felt like she’d been stabbed. “What do you mean?” she asked. She couldn’t hide the frantic emotion in her voice. “Mina?” 

But Mina was already heading for the door. Jihyo went after her. “Mina, wait, can we just talk a little more–” she was interrupted by Mina transforming before her very eyes. Jihyo let out a small scream as Mina shrunk and evolved, taking flight in the form of a small, white-winged vampire bat. Jihyo watched in total fascination as the tiny bat took off into the night. 

“Mina!” Jihyo called out, but she lost track of her quickly as Mina flew higher, blending in with the night sky around her. She was gone.  

[sylusheart]

king of it all ft. könig

word count. 2,924 words

cw. oral sex, vaginal sex, masturbation, dry humping, inappropriate use of boots/shoes, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, teasing, jealousy, angry sex, tabletop sex, swearing

a/n. au where you and könig are life-long friends who work alongside one another, helping with not only each other's needs but desires too.

ao3 version

“general!” könig says urgently as he tries his best to catch up with the long strides of the brigadier general, ansgar meyer, who was trailing his way up ahead.

“if you give me a chance,” könig continued, “you will not regret it.”

“i’ve seen enough,” the general spoke, coming to a halt as he turned towards könig to assess him, “with constant movement like that do you seriously expect i’d award you into fifth platoon?” the general scoffed. könig shifted on his feet, not saying a word. not just because talking back to a general was completely unethical but because he physically couldn't.

the general gave him another look.

“you can’t seriously propose the idea to me that you’ll be an excellent sniper when i’d be able to see you from a mile away, hell, hear you even,” the general said as he shook his head. he didn't bother to wait for a response, he twisted around and walked away - leaving könig on his own.

you heard könig mumble something under his breath in german. you’ve heard him speak it multiple times, picking up a few phrases into your own vocabulary every time he’d slip a word or two out, which was generally when he was overwhelmed.

but unfortunately, you couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was saying this time.

you’d known könig since the both of you were very young. he didn’t exactly fit in, deemed to be ‘odd’ and ‘strange’ to the point that he was bullied for it. although he managed to form a somewhat stable friendship with you because of your interest in him, he would purposefully make sure he wasn’t ever spotted with you - simply to make sure that you wouldn’t fall victim to what he had to go through from his peers. and also because he always had a hunch that you’d feel embarrassed to be seen with him.

but the two of you weren’t kids anymore and you’d both learnt to do things together. he had told you about his wishes to join the german army, and to your own surprise you tagged along too. you had formed an indescribable form of attachment to him so joining him felt like the right thing to do.

you enjoyed it. although you didn’t know the first thing about combat…

you were placed in a unit specialised in training women and had caught a glimpse of him speaking to the general when you were on break.

you watched his large form retreat towards a safe house and decided to follow him in.

when you were inside you found him in a corner, slouches into a chair, holding what looked like a sniper hood in his hands. his legs were spread, elbows resting on his knees as he looked down at the hood in his hands.

he was too dazed to notice your presence as you walked over to him.

“könig,” you begin, “hey.”

he looked up at you almost immediately, as if your voice was the only thing that could manage to bring him out of his reverie. you noticed the way his muscles seemed to tense a bit.

“y/n,” he says, trying to push excitement into his voice. he lets out a little laugh, brushing himself off as he leans back in the chair and drops the hood on his lap, “sorry, didn’t see you there, flower.”

you had no idea where that nickname of his came from but you couldn’t ever deny the blush that rose to your cheeks every time he would use it on you.

“i saw you speaking with the general…” you trail off. not knowing if you should even bring it up.

“ah,” he says as his eyes instantly dim just a fragment. “so you saw that,” he confirms, to himself more or less. looking down at the hood in his hands, his fingers begin to tremble a little and you feel the urge to hold them until they stopped shaking but decided to go against it.

“i just wanted to know if… you’re okay?” you asked, this time it was you shifting on your feet. it was a stupid question because you knew he wasn’t, yet you weren’t sure of what you were meant to say, of what he wanted and needed to hear. you felt awkward and you didn’t know why. things weren’t usually like this between you and him so what changed?

“yes of course, i will be just fine,” he says, his smile overtaking his features. you could tell he enjoys your concern.

“i want you to know that i think you’ll be able to prove the general wrong, and you’ll show him exactly what you’re capable of,” you told him, not knowing what else to say.

he raised a brow a bit, not expecting you to continue on with the subject seeing as he didn’t know you heard the entirety of the conversation - he had assumed you just witnessed it passing by.

“i appreciate your faith in me,” he says, quietly and carefully avoiding eye contact. you watch how he flexes his fingers around as if not knowing what to do with them.

going against yourself you decide to give in. you kneel in front of him and clasp his hands in yours. he looks down at you - at your sunken height beside his feet, shock filled in his wide eyes.

you hadn’t held each other's hands in years. his hands were much rougher than you remember, but for some reason you liked it that way. but besides that, you didn’t even realise he had slipped his gloves off in the first place. he was typically found only ever having them on.

“you- what-,” he starts, blinking rapidly.

“listen to me, könig. no one’s words can determine who you are, you know you are worthy of what you claim to be and i’ve seen that for myself as well. it’ll only be a matter of time before everyone else realises that too. i truly do believe in you,” you tell him.

he stares at you a while, taking the time to soak you and your words in.

“i don’t know. perhaps that man is correct. he is not usually wrong about anything,” he tells you, averting his gaze by twisting his face away from yours. you watch how his ears start to redden due to the proximity between the two of you.

you sigh, not knowing how to make that man believe in himself more. it pains you to see him like this.

“no, könig, you have so much potential but people only underestimate you because they haven’t seen what you have to offer. i know you can all prove them all wrong, you’re a literal minesweeper out there.”

he seems to delve into your words with a little more thought this time.

“i guess you are right,” he says, his fingers brush yours and you are reminded that the two of your are still clasped onto one another.

satisfied, you give him a big smile, “that’s it. you’re a king, remember?”

he tries to smile but fails, his eyes divert to your intertwined hands.

“i think sometimes, that i am not worthy to be tied onto that name,” he tells you.

you frown, unsure of why he feels like this. you thought your encouraging words had helped him but it seems it did quite the opposite.

“then perhaps i’ll just have to remind you,” you say, not knowing where the sudden boldness has emerged from. you were starting to run out of options.

he parts his mouth a little, a brow raised in surprise as you let go of his hands and grab his sniper hood - throwing it to the side before fumbling with his zipper.

“ach du lieber gott!” he exclaims, “who are you and what have you done with-“

“i’m trying to make a point,” you tell him flatly, “can i?”

he pauses for a moment before looking away with his eyes closed, slowly nodding at your request. with his head turned away you take it as an opportunity to strip yourself of your clothes, leaving yourself completely naked in front of him. you knew the way he reacted to your body, you assumed that with him seeing you like this - all vulnerable and bare to him - would get him worked up.

“we always do things together, don't we?” you remind him. you had a habit to say that to him since he has always forced himself to fend for himself because of his past.

“yes, we do,” he manages as he watches you take himself out of his cargos. your lips part at seeing his length spring out, sticking up with a bead of pre-cum dripping off of the head. he twitches in his seat as if embarrassed by his biological reaction to you.

you’ve done similar things like this with him before in the past, but not ever since you joined the army with him. the two of you simply got too busy.

some people say that going intimate will mess up the years' worth of friendship used to create the platonic bond between two people. it makes it complicated, a full-blown situation even. but you on the other hand had speculated it would make you and him stronger, give each other that closure. and it did.

“so eager?” you tease, looking up at his flushed face.

“it has been a long time since…” he starts but gets cut off when you take him into your mouth.

he lets out a groan and immediately throws his head back, one of his rough hands hold the back of your head, a thumb strokes your hair up and down, comforting you as you take him further down.

his cock hits the back of your throat, you gag a little and your hands press against his thighs in response.

your core throbs as you adjust positions, taking him in and out of your mouth.

"my," he pants, "never knew you were so talented with that mouth. maybe your true area of expertise lies somewhere beyond these compounds. what on earth are you doing here with me?"

it was the longest sentence you've heard him say in one go. you playfully rolled your eyes at his incessant rambling and licked up his shaft, causing him to shiver. your eyes never stray away from his as you watch his breath hitch when your mouth leaves his cock.

“all of that training,” he grunts, before letting out an exasperated laugh, “has taught you to become very confident.”

he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you away from his cock, before he slams you back down on it - earning a muffled noise from you.

"you are perfect," he praises, "my perfect girl."

he brings his free hand to rest on-top of yours on his thigh. his fingers curl around and fist your hand in his. könig's eyes flutter closed as you bob again and again. you graze your teeth along the length of his cock in a teasing manner, which gains you a hiss.

"heilige scheiße, you are too good at this, flower," he lets go of your hand and brings it to the side of your face, cupping your cheek. he rubs a thumb across your cheek to feel his cock pulsing in and out inside you. he groans, tightening the grip he has with his other hand in your hair.

you retreat backwards a bit to catch your breath, wasting little to no time before you're attached to him again, your tongue swirling around his tip before you take him whole again.

"how do you know how to do such dirty things? tell me," he commands, but all he gains in response is the naughty noises coming out of your mouth as you pump his cock deeper.

"tell me, flower. have you done this with the other operators? do you stuff their cocks in your mouth and tell them how great they are, too?" he says, his voice sounding menacing, as if truly taunting you.

you don't respond, instead you swirl your tongue around his length once more.

"i asked you a question," he says, pulling you away from his cock once again, holding you so delicately yet so forcefully by the hair. you catch him staring straight at your lips which are no doubt excessively plump and red from all the sucking and fucking you've been doing with your mouth.

"no, no one else, just you," you manage as you lick your lips, and you swear you see his cock twitch a little, begging to be touched again. you grin but that soon fades as you see the look on his face. 

he's not amused.

not convinced.

"seriously, könig. i haven't," you reassure him. 

he scoffs and shifts positions in the chair, outstretching his legs in front of him. you take that as an initiative for you to move too.

and so you do, by pulling yourself up to his lap to straddle his thigh.

he quirks a brow in amusement as you rub yourself against him. ignoring his cock completely as a very sensual moan escapes you as you tilt your head to the side, feeling your wetness growing more and more slick as you watch something in his eyes flicker when watching you please yourself on his lap without the use of his cock.

you rub your pussy against his thigh making sure to leave a wet spot. he watches you with astonishment as he brings a hand to his own cock, thrusting it in his hand at a reasonable pace as he watches you make yourself come.

you both pick up the pace, and you get louder which seems to get him more excited. nearing your climax you squeeze your eyes shut but before you can come you're being pushed off.

"könig? what are you-"

he got up from his seat and walked over to you and inspected your form on the floor - all laid out with your knees bent in the air, exposing your leaking cunt to him. a sudden wave of humiliation washes over you as he watches you lying there with an inscrutable gaze.

before you can even muster out a word, the bottom of his boot presses onto your pussy. 

his mood changes as easily as british weather.

"you're enjoying this too much," is all he says before he starts rubbing his boot up and down your pussy in slow motions.

"fuck. don't, don't do that..." you pant, but despite your words your back arches - craving more of this odd sensation.

"i will do whatever i want. i am king after all, remember?" he muses, applying a little more pressure.

god, this feels wrong. so, so wrong.

"könig, please," you whine, but then he comes to a stop. denying you once again. before you can have a go at him, he carefully sweeps you up from the floor, curling his arms around your naked form. his big, rough hands on your warm and flushed body makes you feel even wetter.

"careful, flower. we can't have you dripping. you've already made my boots so dirty. what a mess." he tuts, walking over to a table. with one arm he swipes the contents of the table to the floor, making space for you.

he rests you on the table, holding your legs up so that they can curl around his waist.

you whimper as his cock brushes your entrance; in response he lets out a groan that has your hips hiking up. you don't even have time to beg him before he's already buried inside you. the feeling of him ignites you. if he wouldn't stop denying you at the worst of times you would've came a hundred times over already.

he grunts as he grabs your hips, pushing into you deeper and deeper. he doesn't thrust - not yet. he tries to maintain as still as he can so that you can adjust to his length. when your pussy clenches around him completely he groans again and starts pacing in and out of you.

his fingers dig into your hips with each thrust like his life depends on it. he starts going faster and faster making you move your hand to absentmindedly reach over and touch your clit, your other hand makes its way to grip his forearm which seemed to be tensing rather vigorously with the number of veins popping out.

"you will come with me, won't you?" he questions, his voice strained. you could tell he was about to come soon.

"yes, yes," you manage, "i'm going to-"

he spills inside of you, still thrusting as he does. in fact, he goes even harder, urging you to finish with him. you shiver as you screw your eyes shut, letting your climax take the best of you. after a few moments of panting, he pulls out gently, and you stare at his come-coated cock, an immediate feel of thrill and heat zips up the entirety of you body just from the sight.

he chuckles, pulls you up so that you are vertical with him, and cradles your body to his.

"ah, so this is how it feels to be a king," he says, moving backwards a bit so that he can crane his neck towards your collar bone. he starts nipping little kisses up your neck, "perhaps you would have to remind me of this feeling more often, don't you think?"

sylusheart © all rights reserved.

[kittenfangirl20]

True to Alastor’s word, he kept Lucifer away Ithaca for years. The few times Lucifer caught his reflection he almost didn’t recognize himself. His once pristine short hair almost brushed his shoulders now and his clean shaven face now sported a short beard. One day he awoke to hear the most beautiful voice, his Adam singing.

Lucifer internally: Adam came to save me, my Adam is here.

Lucifer wanted to run up to the deck and jump into the water and swim to him. But when he ran to the door, Husk was there. He picked him up and drug him away from the door. Lucifer screamed and cried while hitting Husk’s back. But Husk said nothing.

Lucifer: Adam is out there to save me, I need my husband.

Husk then threw him onto the bed. It was then that Lucifer noticed something stuffed into Husk’s ears.

Husk: We all stuffed wax into our ears because this is the Sea of Sirens. One of the sirens must have taken the form of Adam to tempt you into the sea.

Lucifer felt foolish at this point, he was tempted jump into a sea filled with seductresses who would drown him. He then got a plan and shoved wax into his ears before going up on deck, he had his bow and arrow hidden from sight so the sirens wouldn’t see him. He went look out and his heart broke to see what looked like Adam in the sea dressed like he was on their wedding day. The beautiful wedding gown and veil in his hair. But from the waist down Adam was in the water.

Siren: My love jump into the water.

Lucifer couldn’t hear the siren, but he could read lips with ease.

Lucifer: Adam you know I am shy and the water frightens me. Come up on deck and we can jump together.

Siren: Jump in with me. I will end your suffering.

Lucifer: The things I do for you.

He grabbed his bow and arrow and shot the siren, she screamed but she was still alive.

Lucifer: Cut this charade, I know you are a siren. Tell me how to get back to Ithaca with my husband and my daughter.

Siren: The only way you can get any answers is to go to the Underworld and speak with all seeing prophet who went there many moons ago.

Lucifer shot the siren in the throat for daring to take on the visage of his husband. More sirens attacked to avenge their fallen comrade, but they were either shot with an arrow or harpooned. The men then pulled the wax from their ears.

Lucifer: To the underworld.

What Lucifer didn’t know was that this would be the way he found out his mother had died from a broken heart waiting for him. Once this ship sailed away, Alastor rose from the water filled with blood and the parts of sirens.

Alastor: You think you will get home that easily. I won’t allow it. Your men still must die. Even when you get the answer, you will be held prisoner on the island of Verosika who is lonely wants someone to warm her bed after being held there alone.

Adam counted the days, he woke each day with dried tears on his cheeks. He looked in the mirror wondering if Lucifer would recognize him. He purposefully made himself gain weight in order to make himself look less appealing to the suitors. His once muscular body with a flat stomach was now soft with a chubby stomach.

Adam: What would you think if you saw me today? There was joke once that there is no such thing as fat Spartan, I guess I proved them wrong.

Adam then sobbed in his hands because this didn’t work because all the suitors cared about was Ithaca. One suitor even said “I don’t care if I must marry a fat ass to rule Ithaca. I bet Lucifer will take one look at what you became and go back to the sea.” It made it worse that the suitors now refused to go and stay at the palace.

Charlie: Mama, don’t cry.

The Princess now a teenager ran to her mother and hugged her.

Adam: What will he think when sees me?

Charlie: How happy he is to see you, how he loves you, and how beautiful you are. He would think about giving you more babies like you always dreamed of.

Adam gave her sad smile hoping she was right.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Odyssey/Epic AU)

⚠️death of an infant⚠️

The war in Troy had been going on for ten years. Lucifer wishing for it to end so he could be with his husband and daughter. There was a contest to fight for the hand of a beautiful Princess of Sparta. Lucifer was a contestant, but his eyes were only on her cousin, Adam who was a Prince of Sparta and a warrior in his own right. To Lucifer’s eyes, Adam’s radiant beauty outshone the Princess. Lucifer came with a plan that if anyone stole the Princess from the man she chose, all the contestants who join forces with her husband and fight to get her back. “What do you want in return” they asked Lucifer, they all expected he would want the Princess, but his answer surprised them.

Lucifer: I want Adam for my bride and my Queen.

Adam traveled to the island of Ithica and he met his groom to be under an olive tree. They fell in love at first sight. Lucifer carved their nuptial bed into the tree leaving it rooted in the ground to show Adam that his love was as strong as the roots of and tree. A grand and beautiful palace was built around the bed and on their wedding night Lucifer carried Adam to their bed and made love to him. Their wedding was blessed especially when Adam gave birth to their daughter, Charlotte. Lucifer ran to their chambers to see Adam laying their holding their daughter.

Adam: Look Lucifer, our daughter.

Lucifer: She is as perfect her mother.

Adam’s foolish cousin ran away with the youngest Prince of Troy. Lucifer had to go to war because of the plan Lucifer was now cursing. Troy was a great city surrounded by walls. Lucifer prayed to his goddess and mentor, Sera, for a brilliant strategy. She told him to build a large wooden horse filled with soldiers that he would lead. Once the wooden horse was in Troy and everyone drunk from celebration, Lucifer would strike and open the gates. Lucifer was now dressed in his armor and climbed into the giant wooden horse with his troops. The plan was a success and they fought, Lucifer ran into the palace and found the infant son of the oldest Prince of Troy who was now slain. The King of all gods told Lucifer to kill the baby.

Lucifer: I can’t, he is an innocent.

“KILL HIM” shouted the King of the gods. To make it worse Lucifer was shown images of what would happen if the baby lived. He would be filled with rage and go to war with Ithica. He would bring slaughter, kill Lucifer and Adam, take Charlotte who went by Charlie as a war prize. Lucifer picked up the baby horrified with himself as he walked onto the balcony overlooking the battle. Tears fell as he closed his eyes and dropped the baby from the balcony.

Lucifer: What have I done.

On Ithica Adam was woken from his slumber as ten year old Charlie ran to his room.

Charlie: Mama, I had a nightmare about a battle, when will papa come home.

Adam: I hope it will be soon.

Adam picked up Charlie and held her while coaxing her to sleep.

⚠️ TW Attempted SA ⚠️

Adam missed his husband so much, Lucifer was the love of his life and being away from him for so long made his heart ache.

He hoped that he was okay.

Others told him that it's been ten years, that he should move on and find a new husband that Charlie needs a father.

Adam could never lay with another, not when he's had the best.

That didn't stop people, namely men from trying to seduce him. The polite ones were easy, all he had to do was say he wasn't interested.

The others just wouldn't take no for an answer and one man by the name of Steve tried to force Adam into sexual intercourse.

Adam promptly punched him in the face and threatened to do worse if he ever came back.

They could see the ocean from their home and every night Adam looked out to see if any boats would come to shore. If any had his husband on them.

They never did, but he never stopped.

Lucifer wasn't dead until he saw with his own eyes.

[mint-yooxgi]

{14} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang and Yunho)

Words: 8,901

Warnings: Allusion to assault/boundaries not being respected. Violence/Fighting. Brief moments of fatphobia and homophobia near the end (not done by any of the guys). I think that's all, honestly. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Oof, it's really been forever since I've updated this series... my apologies for that! Honestly, I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I might focus a bit of my attention to getting out a few more parts of this series over the next few weeks or so, but that's still to be decided. Anyways, a bit of a nicer, longer chapter update for you guys. I really hope you all like it! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Mini Masterlist

“Good morning.” A soft smile tugs at your lips as you greet the two males already waiting for you at the entrance to your village. 

As soon as they hear your voice, they’re both turning to face you. A satchel is slung over your one shoulder, the material a deep green in colour as you adjust the strap lightly.

“Morning.” The corner of Yunho’s lips twitch upwards.

All you receive from Yeosang in a stiff nod in response.

Perhaps he’s not a morning person.

“Ready to go?” You inquire, looking between them both.

A grunt is all you receive from the shorter male as the taller of the two nods in response. You quirk a brow.

The first few steps down the path and out of the village are silent, each male settling in on either side of you.

“Have you both eaten this morning?” You inquire casually.

“Joong wouldn’t let us leave unless we had something.” Yunho hums in acknowledgement. “He’s always looking out for us in that way.”

The corners of your lips twitch upwards as you nod faintly, “He’s a good clan leader.”

Little do you see the way Yeosang’s one eye twitches at your words.

“Have you eaten?” Yunho’s tone is light, sparing a glance at you out of the corner of his eyes as you continue down the path.

“I’m not much of a breakfast person.” You reply, a simple shrug to your shoulders.

“You should eat something.” Yeosang’s first words to you this morning are terse, the male staring straight ahead.

“I will. When I’m hungry.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards in amusement.

“How far is it to Rose Village?” Yunho asks, keeping pace with you as he spares a glance over at his brother on your opposite side.

“About a forty minute walk,” you hum. “Five, if we were to fly.”

“So, we’re walking because…?” Yeosang’s brow furrows, finally turning to you for the first time today.

“You should learn to not always rely on your wings,” You reply, somewhat stiffly. This time, it’s you who doesn’t meet either of their gazes as you stare straight ahead. “You may not always be able to use them.”

“Well, I think utilizing our legs will be good for us.” Yunho grins, purposefully stretching his arms above his head. “It’s nice to get out of the house every now and then.”

“Yes, the world is quite beautiful, if you’re brave enough to explore it.” You hum in agreement. “It has much to both offer and to teach us.”

You see understanding pass over both male’s features.

“Hwa told Joong that you said you’re willing to begin training us?” Yunho attempts not to look too eager, but there’s a certain gleam in his eyes that you still pick up on.

“If you are all still willing to be taught-“

“Yes.” Yeosang clears his throat, noting the way both you and Yunho immediately turn to look at him. “Please.”

“Very well.” You smile faintly. “When would you like to begin?”

“As soon as possible, if that’s alright with you.” Yunho responds, a sudden giddiness to his steps.

“That can be arranged.” You nod once, firmly. “We can start now, if you’d like?”

“While we’re walking?” Yunho’s brow furrows.

“While we’re walking.” You confirm. “Though, I must say, learning is a collaboration, so you shouldn’t hoard what I teach you to yourselves. You’ll never grow as a clan that way.”

Yeosang’s breath catches slightly in his throat. “We understand.”

“No wonder San and Wooyoung have been so eager to share your teachings with us,” Yunho mumbles.

“My rule of thumb is: if you can teach someone else what you’ve learned after you’ve learnt it, then you understand the lesson being taught.” You say, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder lightly. “Everyone learns differently, and of course you can cater specifics to your own needs, but the base is usually the same.”

“You’ve been saying this whole time that you wouldn’t teach us, but you have been.” Yeosang observes. “Through them.”

“I take no credit for what you’ve learned from your brothers.” You shake your head. “That’s all from them.”

“Hwa’s got some catching up to do…” Yunho sighs, an amused quirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Something tells me that both him and Canary Man are getting the rundown on everything while we’re gone today.” You hum, somewhat knowingly.

“I don’t know how you did it, but there seems to have been a shift in Seonghwa over the past few days. Ever since he came back home from seeing you, it seems as if he’s calmer.” Yunho states, his gaze darting to you once more.

“All it takes is one moment of kindness to show you a new perspective on life,” you smile softly. “I simply extended a hand out to him, just as I wish someone did for me when I was in that situation. He was the one that accepted the offer.”

“When you were in that situation?” Yeosang is quick to catch on to your words.

“Your eldest and I are a lot more alike than you think.” You tell them. “I was in the exact same place as he was, once. I almost lost myself, and he could have, too. I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone go through what I went through without helping them.”

“You’re wise beyond your years.” Yunho praises.

“You make me sound so old,” your nose scrunches in distaste.

Yeosang actually lets out a puff of laughter at the way Yunho begins sputtering out apologies. 

“I’m just teasing you, Young One.” You chuckle. “I appreciate the compliment, all the same.”

The tips of his ears begin to turn red as he clamps his mouth shut.

Yeosang clears his throat. “Our training?”

“Ah, yes,” you nod. “How would you like to begin?”

“Shouldn’t you decide that for us?” Yunho quirks a brow, managing to get his bashfulness under control for the moment.

“I don’t want to be teaching you stuff you already know.” You shrug. “I’ve never seen you in a fight, nor do I know how strong your senses have become since the first time we met.”

“I thought you knew everything.” Yeosang blinks, almost innocently at you.

You laugh, “Not everything, Yeosang.”

You swear you see a shiver caress his spine as you say his name.

“Well, what do you know of our powers?” Yunho asks, nothing but curiosity shining in his eyes.

“If you’re incurring whether or not I know what type of dragon you are, Yunho, then you should be specific.” You shoot him a small look. “Speak of your own desires before you assume to know someone else’s.”

He swallows thickly. “Then, do you?”

“Do I, what?” You press, quirking a brow all the while.

“Know what type of powers I possess?”

“I do.” You hum.

He frowns, “How?”

You smile, almost tenderly. “Your youngest seems to enjoy talking about all of you to me as much as he enjoys talking about me to you.”

You hear Yeosang take in a deep breath beside you, almost exasperatedly.

“So, Jongho told you.” Yunho nods his understanding.

“For the most part,” you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag. “I can sense more than presences if I focus, you know.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Yunho breathes, a wondrous look shining in his eyes as he looks at you.

Yeosang lets out another puff of air.

“Quite a few things, actually,” you confirm with an amused grin. “But that’s not important right now.”

“So, then,” Yunho hums, his body half turning more towards you in eagerness, “What’s my power?”

Nothing but mirth dances within your gaze as you see Yunho practically vibrating with excitement as he continues to walk alongside you. Yeosang seems to have slowed slightly, his shoulders curling in on himself as he crosses his arms over his chest. A small frown pulls at his features, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks irritated.

You meet Yunho’s gaze.

“Earth.” You state. “Rather, the minerals that fill the ground.”

Yunho smiles, nodding quite enthusiastically along with your words.

“It’s very fitting,” you add. “From what some of your brothers tell me, you are quite a stable rock in their lives.”

His blush returns, Yunho suddenly wiping his palms on the sides of his thighs bashfully. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” you chuckle. “Thank your brothers.”

Yunho spares a brief glance at Yeosang, noticing how the aforementioned male looks so irate.

“What’s the matter, Yeo?” Yunho’s head tilts slightly in worry. “You were probably the second most excited after San when we learned she would teach us.”

At this, your brow quirks.

Heat immediately flares to Yeosang’s cheeks, the male avoiding your gaze as he mumbles out a ‘just tired.’

“Well, it is quite early,” you hum in agreement. “We’ll be at Rose Village soon, anyways.”

“Is there anything we can practice while we walk?” Yunho inquires eagerly.

“Hone your senses.” You reply, almost instantly. At the way they both spare a curious look at you, you’re quick to continue, “You’ve been doing so already, that much I can tell. However, it isn’t enough. You,” turning your sharp gaze to the side, you meet Yeosang’s eyes, “should be able to sense things with the breeze for miles. It should get to the point where you don’t even need to expel any excess energy to do so; it should become second nature.”

He nods, eyes sharpening as he focusses on sensing the wind almost immediately after you stop talking.

“And you,” you turn your pointed stare to Yunho who straightens almost immediately, “should be able to sense the vibrations in the earth as to where your enemies are. Know your surroundings; hone your senses.”

“How do we know if we’re doing it properly?” Yeosang questions, his lips slightly pursed in concentration.

“You will feel as if you’ve become one with your surroundings.” You reply. “Having the powers you do helps tremendously, for when the time is right, such elements will feel as if they are speaking to you. Train your ears to notice the slightest of sounds. Train yourself to notice every scent in an area, and pick up on when they shift even the faintest bit. Trust your senses, and rely on your instincts. You’ll soon begin to notice things that were never there before.”

“And we’re supposed to do this while walking?” Yeosang frowns.

“The constant sound of our feet crunching the gravel is a good practice for a monotonous sound.” You go on to say. “It is repetitive, so you should be able to drown it out. You won’t always have time to gather your bearings while standing still. Search for the abnormalities within the constant, and you’ll master your senses much quicker.”

“I think I get it,” Yunho nods, almost absentmindedly.

“I know you’ve both already been expanding your sensory reach.” You comment. “It’s time to take it a step further. I have faith in the both of you. Don’t just think,” your eyes flash briefly as your head whips to the side, a bird taking off from a branch in the next second, “feel.”

Two nods are all you receive in response as the males begin to thoroughly concentrate on their surroundings. You can tell how intently they’re focussing, for they stare straight ahead, standing to their full heights as they continue down the path with you.

A small breeze picks up, and you can feel the ground beneath your feet beginning to hum with life.

“Good,” you nod casually. “Once you both feel as if you have a better understanding of our surroundings, let me know. I’ll test you.”

“Test us?” Yeosang’s head tilts curiously.

“I’ll start easy on you,” you grin, a knowing gleam in your eyes. “For example, there’s a squirrel somewhere close by. Find it.”

Both of their heads whip off to the right, a brow squirrel running down the side of a tree in the next second.

“Good.” You nod approvingly. “This is exactly what I mean. Everything is interconnected, and by the time you hone your sense, nothing will escape you.”

They both nod, soft smiles pulling at their features.

“This is also a good way to discern what you need to work on to hide yourselves better.” You continue. “Scent, sound, sight: everything can both work for you, or against you.”

“Now that you mention it, I can smell you a lot more, Yeo.” Yunho’s nose scrunches.

A small laugh escapes you, and you see the aforementioned male’s cheeks dusting red.

“Yeah, well, the sound of your footfalls are like a giant upon the earth.” Yeosang snaps back.

Again, you chuckle, noticing how Yunho’s ears begin to turn red once more.

“See, these are things you both can work on to hide yourselves better.” You spare a glance at both of them. “If you really want to test yourselves, ask Jaemin to track you. He’s the best of our clan.”

You do not fail to miss the way they both stiffen at your words.

“I don’t know,” Yeosang grimaces slightly, shooting a pointed look towards Yunho. “Wouldn’t want to stink him out.”

“If you’re worried if you smell or not, you don’t.” You reply, noticing how he falters slightly in his steps. “You actually have quite a pleasant musk, like fresh juniper and oak.”

Instantly, Yeosang’s spine straightens, puffing his chest out slightly as the corner of his lips tug upwards smugly.

Yunho, on the other hand, begins to pout.

“We’re almost there,” you comment, motioning ahead on the path with your chin.

Glancing forward, the two males can just make out the entranceway of Rose Village. Flowers surround the grand archway, and faintly, they can both begin to smell the pungent aromas drifting through the air.

“Who’s a better tracker, then? You, or Jaemin?” Yunho attempts to change the subject, if only slightly.

Your knowing smile says it all. “Do not forget that I was the one who taught him everything he knows.”

“Then, we should just ask you to track us.” Yeosang replies.

You shake your head. “You’ll never learn that way, and I won’t always be around to train you. My Neos are your best options if you even want to attempt to best me at anything.”

“Which is why you sent Woo and San to Ten and Taeil to start.” Yeosang hums in understanding.

“Exactly.” You nod in confirmation. “You should partner up with them if you want to learn how to better utilize your powers. If you want to hone your strength, ask Jeno to train you. He’s our strongest fighter.”

“Something tells me we’ll have to go through them before we can even get to you.” Yunho spares a look at you out of the corner of his eyes.

You meet his gaze, the corners of your lips twitching upwards.

“We’re here,” you pause just before the archway, observing the village with such a fond look in your eyes as you see people milling about just through the entrance. “Continue to hone your sense, you never know what you might learn.”

Without saying another word, you enter the village.

A smile pulls onto your features as you take in your surroundings. Many different stalls have been set up, lining the paths with different vendors selling their wares. There’s a fruit stand off to the side, a few different herb sellers, and multiple florists all chatting with potential customers.

Walking through the main road, you cannot help the wondrous shine in your eyes as you observe the daily lives of the townsfolk. That feeling of nostalgia that floods your senses almost serves to overwhelm you, your one hand tightening its grip on the strap of your satchel.

Little do you see the fond looks either dragon send your way.

“This way.” You voice lowly, shifting almost wistfully through the throngs of people towards the very back of the street.

Reaching the end of the row, the area opens up into a large square with a beautiful trickling fountain in the centre. Vines creep up the sides of the buildings, more flowers blooming from every angle and filling the space with vibrant colours of pink, purple, red, and orange.

There’s almost a renewed giddiness to your steps as you round a corner, more vendors lining the street. Your steps are precise and steady, heading directly to a specific counter right at the end of the row.

Silently, the two males follow but a step behind.

Two females can be seen conversing behind the stall counter. Both are quite tall in stature with dark skin. One wears her hair in tight braids, the tips resting just below her shoulders. The other has shorter hair, tight curls adorning the strands. Around their stand, three rambunctious children - two girls, one male - can be seen running around, hitting each other with different flower stalks.

Stopping in her tracks, one of the children seems to take notice of you approaching the stand. A large, dramatic gasp escapes her, causing her siblings and mothers to turn their heads in your direction.

“Auntie!” The little girl squeals, immediately running over to you with her arms outstretched.

The two males share a look as you wrap the little girl in your arms, picking her up and hugging her tightly as she giggles loudly.

“My goodness, you’ve gotten so big!” You grin, holding her against your hip as she rests her hands on your shoulders.

“What about me!” The other little girl says, tugging at your shirt lightly as she stands beside you.

“Yeah!” The little boy adds, standing tall with his hands on his hips. “It’s not fair you always pick up Delilah first!”

“Well, I do have two arms, Marcus,” you chuckle, shifting Delilah over slightly so you can pat his head affectionately.

Just as you go to reach for him, he runs away.

“No, wait! I’m too old for you to be picking me up!” He whines, hiding behind the stall counter with his parents.

“I’m not!” The other little girl says, running right into your arms so you can pick her up.

A moment later, and you’ve hoisted her into your free arm, giggles falling from her lips as she places a big kiss onto your cheek.

“It’s good to see you again,” the woman with the braids smiles kindly, an overtly affectionate look shining in her eyes as she stares at the scene before her.

“We’ve all missed you.” The other woman says, standing just a smidge taller than her wife beside her.

“I’ve missed you all, too.” You return their fond looks, nuzzling your forehead affectionately against the girl’s own.

They giggle in response, Delilah leaning into you further.

“Auntie, did you bring us anything?” She inquires innocently, blinking at you all the while.

“You know I always do.” You chuckle fondly, placing both girls back on their feet for the time being. “Jungwoo was very adamant about me giving these to you.”

“Oh, they’re from Uncle Jungwoo?” Marcus’ eyes instantly light up, coming back around the counter to stand before you.

Sliding the strap of the bag off your shoulder, you open the satchel. Reaching inside, you pull out three small wooden figurines. The deer you hand to Delilah, the eagle to Marcus, and the little dragon figurine you hand to the final little girl.

“Wow,” she gasps, nothing but pure awe in her eyes as she turns the figure around and around in her hands.

“Minnie, what do we say to your Auntie?” The woman with the braids smiles knowingly.

Immediately, the girl looks up into your eyes, a bright smile on her lips, “Thank you, Auntie!”

You chuckle, “Don’t thank me, thank your Uncle Jungwoo.”

“Auntie,” Marcus begins lowly, leaning into you as if discussing something secret. His eyes briefly dart past you to the two males still standing silently behind you. “Are you cheating on Uncle Jungwoo?”

A boisterous laugh escapes both you and the two females still standing behind the counter.

“Oh, no, Marcus,” you pat his arm assuringly. “Your Uncle Jungwoo and I are not together.”

“So, then, are these your new boyfriends?” Minnies ask, walking up to Yunho and tugging on the side of his pants. “Are you married to my Auntie now?”

You swear Yunho’s eyes nearly bulge right out of his head as he splutters over his own words.

“No, Minnie,” you chuckle, “We’re not married.”

“Why not?” Minnie turns back to you, blinking almost owlishly.

“Minnie, relationships don’t work like that,” the taller of the two ladies shakes her head endearingly.

“But you and mommy are married!” She scurries over to the both of them.

“That’s because we’ve known each other for a very long time.” The woman answers.

“Uncle Jungwoo and Auntie have known each other for a very long time.” Marcus voices.

“Not as long as Uncle Renjun, or Uncle Taeyong, though.” Delilah adds, matter-of-factly.

“My Neos are like family to me,” you explain softly. “Like my brothers.”

“What about Uncle Kun?” Minnie asks innocently.

“Children, that’s enough.” A sharp look is given to the three of them by the woman with the braids.

“It’s alright, Kamille.” You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You crouch down so you’re eye level with Minnie. “Uncle Kun finally found his special someone, and I’m happy for him. We agreed to just stay friends.”

“His loss,” the taller of the two mumbles.

“Trisha,” a sharp look is sent her way by you.

She shrugs, “Just saying.”

“Auntie! We have something for you!” Delilah exclaims excitedly, scurrying into the house behind the stall with the other two children in tow as they all remember their gifts for you.

You stand back to your full height, a curious quirk to your one brow.

The two women offer you knowing looks in response. Except, once they see what each of the children hold on their way back out of the house, they attempt to stop them. Only, they don’t manage to catch them.

“Mommy said these were your favourites, once.” Minnie extends a few flowers out to you, both Marcus and Delilah standing on either side of her doing the same.

Your breath catches in your throat as you see the children each holding out a few stems of bluebells to you with smiles on their faces.

A soft call of your name from Kamille sounds from behind the children. “We’re so sorry, we told them-“

“Did you grow these yourselves?” You cut her off, not even sparing her a look as your eyes begin to water.

Three proud nods greet your blurry vision, and your first tear falls. Softly, you grab the flowers from their hands.

“Look at you three!” You smile through the pain in your heart which suffocates you from the inside out. “You’ll be giving your mother’s a run for their money pretty soon. These flowers are beautiful!”

Happy giggles reach your ears, the girls twirling eagerly from side to side as Marcus avoids your gaze.

“Okay, children, why don’t you go grab some snacks for all of us at the bakery.” Trisha grabs a few coins and hands then to Marcus. “We have some things to talk about with your Aunt, here.”

“Okay!” Three cheers are heard as they all rush off down the street, disappearing into the crowd.

“I’ll go with them.” Yunho offers, already following after the three children.

Kamille simply raises an eyebrow.

“He heard the word ‘bakery,’ and now that’s all he can think about.” Yeosang sighs.

“I don’t blame him,” you wipe your tears from your cheeks, gazing almost longingly down at the bouquet of bluebells in your hand. “Rose Village bakery is one of the best around for miles. Seeing as he bakes, he probably wants to check it out.”

“Ah, found yourself a baker this time, have you?” Trisha jokes.

“I haven’t found myself anything.” You shake your head, a slight huff escaping you.

Both women finally step out from behind their little stall.

“It’s good to see you again,” Kamille says as she wraps her arms around you, making sure to avoid your back all the while.

“We weren’t lying when we said we’ve missed you,” this time, it’s Trisha’s turn to wrap you in her arms, hugging you tightly as you do the same back.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You pat her back affectionately.

“I thought you said you were going to come visit more often,” Kamille shoots you a playfully accusatory look.

“Yes, well,” you chuckle, motioning to Yeosang with your eyes, “Some things came up.”

“Oh, where are our manners?” Kamille immediately turns to the single dragon by your side. “I’m Kamille, and this is Trisha. We’re the Delaris’. Those three you saw earlier are our kids, Marcus, Delilah, and Minnie.”

Yeosang bows respectfully, introducing himself and his brother in the next moment.

“Yes, we’ve heard whispers about you Halas.” Trisha crosses her arms over her chest, a minor quirk to her brow.

“How did you-“

“The forest speaks in many tongues.” Kamille replies easily, moving behind her stall and rummaging around in a bin.

“You’re dragons?” Yeosang sounds more surprised than he figures he should be at this point.

“Not quite.” Trisha grins knowingly.

“They’re my oldest caster friends.” You explain, placing the flowers onto the counter before you.

Understanding passes across his features.

“Seriously, we cannot apologize enough about the flowers,” Trisha grimaces, her arms falling back to her sides.

“It’s alright,” you smile weakly. “At least they weren’t daisies.”

“But these were meant to replace daisies with-“

“Trisha!” Kamille’s sharp voice cuts her wife off as she pops back up behind the stand.

Both women spare a worried look in your direction, only serving to make Yeosang even more confused than he already is. At the pained expression you wear, nothing but concern pulls at his features, stepping the slightest bit closer to you. All he wants to do is ease your distress in whatever ways he can, his earlier irritation long since forgotten now.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve received bluebells from anyone.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. Gently, one of your fingers traces over a bloom. “They don’t grow on this side of the fjord. Naturally, at least.”

“We haven’t sensed any of them crossing over in quite a long time.” Kamille comments.

“They shouldn’t.” You meet her gaze, your eyes flashing. “Nor will they ever again.”

“What about Bokkie?” Trisha’s brow furrows slightly.

You simply shake your head in response.

Yeosang frowns.

“Anyways,” Kamille clears her throat. “I take it you’re here for your usual order?”

“I can’t come to see my old friends?” You tease.

“Hey!” Trisha protests. “We’re not that old!”

“You’re almost as old as I am.” You chuckle, your eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Give or take about a hundred years.” Kamille mumbles, a playful roll to her eyes.

Yeosang’s eyes widen in shock.

“Oh, you’ve gone and stunned the poor baby dragon.” Trisha tuts, turning to meet Yeosang’s gaze in the next second. “Us witches know quite a few tricks to staying youthful, you know.”

“Of course, it helps to keep your nose out of trouble.” Kamille adds.

“You two, staying out of trouble?” You quirk a brow. “Unlikely.”

The two women share a look.

“Guilty.” Trisha chuckles, shooting a wink in your direction. “Now, come with me and I’ll help you get those herbs you like so much.”

A simple nod is all you offer her in response, following her into the house and chatting idly as you leave Yeosang with Kamille.

“Are you sure the kid is going to be okay with Kami by himself?” Trisha asks from over her shoulder.

“I heard that!” Kamille calls after you both.

You chuckle, “I’m quite certain Yeosang can handle himself.

Little do you see how the aforementioned male straightens slightly, the corner of his lip twitching upwards faintly.

“Alright,” Trisha chuckles, guiding you into the back room of the house where their rarer herbs reside. “Well, as always, you’re welcome to anything and everything you’d like.”

“I literally cannot thank you enough,” you smile, already harvesting some thistle wart from its pot. “Oh, actually, before I forget, I brought something for the two of you, as well.”

Pausing in your movements, you reach into your satchel once more and pull out two leather-bound books, and two small carved crystals.

“I finished compiling that tome you asked me the last time, and I think you’ll enjoy the other one, too. The crystals are a gift from me to you, as a thank you for everything you two have done.” You place each item carefully into her own hands. “They’re also good luck charms.”

Trisha places both books onto a side table before carefully examining the carved crystals. One is in the shape of an obelisk, symbols carved along its side. The other is smooth like a river stone, perfectly oval in shaped. Both are milky white in colour, and her eyes flash with understanding.

“Thank you,” she bows deeply before wrapping you in another hug. “You’ve always done more for this family than we deserve.”

“Nonsense,” you shake your head, holding her at arms length once she pulls away. “You guys are my family, not just My Neos.”

“Then, you know if you ever need anything, all you need to do is ask, right?” She quirks a brow at you.

“Of course.” You nod, quite firmly at her. “Know that the same is true of me with you.”

Trisha returns your smile.

A moment later, and you return to harvesting the plants scattered around the room.

“So, are you going to tell us about you and those Hala dragons of yours?” She inquires, somewhat knowingly.

“There’s nothing major, really.” You shrug, placing some herbs into your satchel. “I consider them my friends, for my part.”

“There hasn’t been a raid from them since they attempted to harm your village.” She observes, and at your mildly surprised look, she clarifies, “Renjun’s been by a few times with Johnny.”

“Has he, now?” Understanding crosses your features. “Well, they’ve certainly calmed themselves since I’ve met them.”

“Any of which your doing?” She leans against the side table, tilting her head in your direction.

“I do not control other’s actions.” Comes your quick reply, but even she can tell you’re now avoiding her gaze.

“Normally Taeyong joins you on a day like today.” She observes. “Yet, two Halas are here instead. Either he knows something we don’t, or he’s currently on his deathbed.”

“If you’re suggesting Taeyong set me up, you’d sadly be mistaken.” You reply, glancing up at her from the plant you’re currently harvesting. “The two of them simply convinced him to let them take his place. Which reminds me… Yongie said he wanted some more of your roses, if you’d be so kind.”

“I’ll let Kamille know,” Trisha hums, watching you carefully.

A moment of silence.

“I’m going to train them.”

Trisha blinks at you in shock. She clears her throat, “Are you sure?”

“I said I would.” Comes your resolute answer.

“You haven’t offered to train anyone since the Wolves-“

“I know.” You cut her off, exhaling a deep sigh as you stand back to your full height. “I can’t keep living my life in the shadow of his betrayal, Trish. I’m tired of letting it control me.”

“This is about more than just training, isn’t it?” Her tone is soft as she takes a step towards you, placing a gentle hand onto the side of your arm in comfort.

“It’s been over fifty years, Trish-“ your voice catches in your throat as she begins rubbing your arm soothingly. Tears begin to gather once more in your eyes, your own hands clinging desperately to the strap of your satchel. “I don’t want to watch my life pass by from the outside anymore. I want to start living again, and maybe-“ you swallow thickly, “maybe even learn to love again.”

She smiles softly at you, giving your arm a light squeeze.

“And honestly, Trisha,” you suck in a sharp breath, “I’m terrified. I want to believe him- I want to believe in him so badly, it hurts, but I don’t know if I can. And then what happened with Kun…” You trail off. “I can’t go through another-“ you choke on a sob, “I can’t-“

“I know, sweetie,” she coos, shushing you all the while as she wraps you in her embrace. “I know.”

“The most terrifying thought, though, is that I am.” You whisper lowly. “I am starting to believe him.”

“The one outside?” Her brow furrows slightly.

“No, his brother.” You shake your head.

“The baker?”

“No, their youngest.” You clarify.

A noise of understanding echoes in her throat.

“Why do you-“

“I think it’s more than just the youngest that’s making you believe.” She observes. “Sure, he may have been the catalyst, but I know you. Even you would have had a difficult time agreeing to let anyone but Taeyong come with you to see us today. Hell, even bringing them to this festival is something you would have denied to anyone whom you didn’t trust.”

You take a moment to consider her words. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you what you should do. Only you can decide that for yourself.” She says, pulling away to stare deeply into your eyes. “What I can tell you is this: you are not the same person you were all those years ago. You know both Kami and I strongly believe in things always happening for a reason, and perhaps what happened with Kun was meant to happen so you could find them. Perhaps letting yourself believe won’t be such a bad thing.”

You nod lightly.

“Besides, I can sense the magic of this youngest’s Drygg Promise all over you.” She tilts her head knowingly. “It’s the strongest, most sincere form of magic I’ve ever seen from anybody. Even from you.”

“He is quite convincing.” You chuckle fondly.

“Convincing, or sincere?” She squeezes your arm once more. “Come on, the kids should be back by now.”

“I’ll be out in a minute, I just have a few more herbs to get.” You tell her, noticing how she begins to head towards the front.

A call of her name from you stops her.

“Thank you.” You meet her gaze, clearing your throat lightly as you compose yourself. “For everything.”

Trisha smiles. “You know we’re always here for you. I think it’s time you let some new people in, as well.”

Without another word, or waiting for a response from you for that matter, she leaves back out through the front door.

Perhaps she’s right. Maybe it is time for you to allow yourself to grow and let go of your past.

Finally, you think you’re ready to move on.

Stepping back out of the house a few minutes later, you see both women conversing with Yeosang. The tips of his ears are dusted a faint red, and even you can see the way he seemingly lights up as soon as he sees you.

“There you are,” Kamille nudges your side gently as you come to stand beside her. “Yeosang was worried you got lost.”

“I was not!” His eyes widen, greatly scandalized by Kamille’s words.

“Right.” Trisha laughs. “And you weren’t just thinking about storming past us to make sure she was still alive.”

The way he begins to splutter says it all.

“It’s okay,” Trisha pats him affectionately on his arm. “We know the signs all too well.”

“What signs?” Yeosang shifts his gaze between them, a confused, almost defensive furrow to his brow.

The two women share a look. “Denial.”

“The kids aren’t back yet?” You cut in, glancing around the area briefly and not seeing them, or a much taller male in sight.

“Not yet,” Kamille shakes her head, a worried pull to her lips downwards.

“Not that we don’t trust your brother,” Trisha adds, sparing a brief look at Yeosang, “but they should have been back by now.”

Your head tilts, and you notice Yeosang’s does, too.

“Mommy!” A cry is heard just through the crowd, and you see both Delilah and Marcus pushing their way through the throngs of people.

Immediately, you intercept the two children, their parents at your side.

“What’s wrong?” A frown is prominent on Kamille’s face as she picks Delilah up.

“Where’s Minnie?” Trisha is quick to grab ahold of Marcus who clings onto her side.

“That new bakery lady won’t leave Yuyu alone.” Delilah pouts.

“She’s worse than when you and mom start making kissey faces at one another.” Marcus’ nose scrunches in distaste.

“Minnie’s trying to save him, but it’s not working.” Delilah adds.

“I thought Rylie was married.” Kamille says, more to herself than anything.

“I’m sure Yunho can handle a few flirtatious comments sent his way.” Yeosang chuckles. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

“He popular like that, or something?” Trisha quirks a brow, somewhat teasingly.

“Or something.” Yeosang grumbles.

“Didn’t take you to be one to get jealous,” you hum, and you notice how his cheeks begin to dust pink for the nth time today.

“I’m not jealous.” He grumbles, gaze flicking over to you every now and then.

“Mom!” Delilah whines. “This is serious! Yuyu is in big trouble!”

“We’ll go check it out. Don’t worry.” You assure them.

“Hurry!” Marcus begins to tug Trisha down the street. “There’s bad energy coming from him.”

The three of you share a look.

Almost instantly, you and the two witches take off down the row, pushing your way through the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Yeosang manages to just keep pace with you.

“Marcus can sense shifts in energies, it’s his specialty ever since he was small. If he gets a bad feeling, almost always something bad will happen.” You explain quickly. “Your brother may be in danger.”

Rounding a street corner, the crowd thins slightly. You can see the awning of the bakery in sight, and you hurry your pace, the others following behind.

The bell above the shop door jingles as you six enter the shop. The owner, Nina, sends you a warm smile from her chair behind the counter. Once she adjusts her glasses, she’s offering you a friendly wave in recognition. Age, it seems, is catching up with her. 

You have just enough time to wave back before your attention is drawn to the side where you see Yunho backed into a corner, the new girl - Rylie - holding him hostage with her arm beside his shoulder. The way she’s leaning into him, and his stiff demeanour, says it all.

“Mommy!” Winnie scoots out from between them, panic clear on her features.

Kamille is quick to embrace the girl, cooing at her to calm her down.

“Rylie.” Trisha’s stern call of her name has the women sighing dramatically before turning her head slightly in acknowledgement.

Still, she does not move from her position.

“What?” Nothing but irritation lines her voice as her gaze flicks over to your little group.

“Tell her to stop bothering Uncle Yuyu!” Winnie crosses her arms, frown prominent on her features.

Your eyebrows raise slightly at the name she calls him, mirth dancing on your features.

“You heard the little lady.” You address the woman before you, noticing how she purposefully trails her gaze over you in disgust.

“If he wanted me to stop, he would have pushed me away by now.” She retorts, rather pointedly.

“Actually, I’ve been asking you to give me space this whole time-“

“Shhh,” she turns quickly, placing a finger over his lips as she leans into him. “You don’t have to lie to save her pride. I know I’m a better match for you than she is.”

You blink, not being able to keep the appalled expression off of your features. Honestly, you’re more amused than anything, but you contain your laugh of disbelief for now.

You share a look with both Kamille and Trisha. You smirk.

If this is how this woman wants to play, then you’ll gladly succumb to her games.

“What makes you think I enjoy the company of men?” You quirk a brow, beginning to slowly step towards this woman. The way your suddenly hooded gaze remains locked on her has her faltering for a moment. “You caught my eye since I first stepped foot in this little bakery, here.”

“What are you doing?” Her brow furrows, and she takes a step back and away from Yunho as you creep closer.

“It seems to me you enjoy assertive people.” You continue to approach, backing her into the corner and away from Yunho. “I’m just emanating you.”

“Don’t come near me.” She pushes herself against the wall.

You stop in your tracks, leaving a good two feet of distance between your body and hers. You blink at her in curiosity, tilting your head all the same.

“If you wanted me to stop, you would push me away.” You throw her words back at her, making sure never to lay a single finger on her the whole while.

“Just leave me alone.” She spits.

“To be clear, you’re asking me to stop?” You inquire, staring straight into her eyes expectantly.

“Yes!” She hisses. “Do you not understand the word ‘no’?”

Your eyebrows raise, but you remain silent. Your expression says it all.

A scowl is pulling at her features in the next moment as she pushes past you, knocking into your shoulder quite harshly. “Fucking bitch.”

The sound of the bell jingling above the door is the only indication you have that she’s left.

“Oh, I suppose it is time for her break.” Nina hums, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Seriously, Nina,” Kamille sighs. “You should find better employees.”

The old woman either doesn’t hear her, or chooses not to answer as she begins humming a soft tune to herself.

You shake you head, turning to face Yunho in the next second. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” his reply is somewhat breathless as he stares at you, blinking to clear his vision soon after. He clears his throat, seemingly coming back to reality. “Yeah.”

Winnie immediately runs over to Yunho, grabbing his hand in hers.

“Uncle Yuyu, you promised to buy us flowers!” She begins tugging him towards the entrance.

You quirk a brow, “Upgraded to Uncle now, are you?”

He grins, a red creeping onto his ears. “It was all them.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Yeosang pouting.

“Hey kids, why don’t you drag Uncle Yeo along with you, too.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards knowingly.

“Okay!” Delilah immediately rushes over to Yeosang, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door now, too.

“Have fun!” You wave them off, seeing as Marcus now holds the door open for them all.

The moment the door swings shut, the three of you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Crisis averted.” Kamille sighs, sitting herself down in one of the chairs nearest to her.

“Rylie has been a piece of work since she started here last month.” Trisha sits opposite Kamille, you joining them quickly.

“She new to town?” You inquire, noting how quiet the bakery is for a day like today.

“Yeah, her and her husband moved here about two months ago. She’s stirring up trouble wherever she goes, and we usually have to clean up the mess.” Trisha frowns. “Flirts with every male she sees, then usually her husband steps in to ‘defend what’s his’.”

You grimace, “Sounds like they’re both a piece of work.”

“You’re telling us.” Kamille nods. “We’ve had to step in a number of times before things get too out of hand. He’s already received two major warnings.”

“One more and we kick them out of here for good.” Trisha says. “Perks of being the heads of council.”

“You two run this village flawlessly,” you comment. “Of course you have final say. I’m honestly surprised you still let them live here.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ve become too lenient in our old age.” Kamille hums, the three of you sharing a laugh.

A few minutes later, the three of you are sharing a pastry, talking idly as you wait for the kids and the two males to return. The more you converse with your friends, the more your shoulders relax. Though, with the sound of the bell chiming above the door, and the ominous presence you feel entering the bakery, that happiness soon plummets into unease.

“That’s her.” You hear a harsh whisper behind you. “That’s the bitch that touched me.”

You nearly roll your eyes, but at the way the two women in front of you stiffen, you opt to sigh instead.

“Oi, you!” A loud voice draws your attention to the front of the bakery to see a burly man standing there. His arms are crossed as Rylie practically clings to his side, sneering in your direction. “You think you can just go around laying your grubby paws on my wife?”

“Actually, Sir, I never touched your wife.” You reply calmly, resting an arm over the back of your chair as you turn to face him. “It was your wife who continuously threw herself at one of my own friends, even after he repeatedly asked her kindly to stop.”

“So, you’re a fucking bitch and a liar?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Should have expected that from a fat queer such as yourself.”

Your head tilts slowly in understanding. “Do you have more of an issue with me because I’m fat, or because I’m queer?”

“A smartass, too? Damn, I’m going to enjoy knocking your teeth in.” He cracks his knuckles. “No, I have an issue with you. You came onto my wife, and now you’re going to regret it.”

“I have no desire to shatter your already fragile masculinity any further, Sir.” You reply. “I’m sorry you seem to be stuck playing your wife’s desperate, attention seeking games. The two of you should strive to do better.”

“How dare you!” Rylie seethes, but is soon consoled by her husband.

“Shh, Honey, I’ve got this.” He pats her shoulder before rounding on you. His furious expression says it all. “How dare you!”

“Oh, I think we’ve got a pair of parrots on our hands.” Trisha remarks. “Too bad they can’t remember any of the important lessons.”

“Yeah, like ‘final strike and you’re out.’” Kamille hums, shooting the two of them a pointed look.

“Like hell you can kick us out of this town.” The male spits, brow creased as his face begins to turn bright red in anger.

“We can, and we will.” Trisha replies almost instantly, no remorse at all in her tone. “We’ve already warned you sufficiently. Please do not make us mad. You will not like what happens.”

“Are you threatening me?” He straightens, hands balling into fists at his sides.

You stand calmly to your feet, returning the plate to the counter where you see Nina has managed to doze off. Soft snores fall from her lips, and you spare her a small smile before turning to the couple fuming at the doorway.

“Depends,” you hum, leaning back on the counter as your cross your arms over your chest. “Do you feel threatened?”

“By you?” The man scoffs. “Not likely.”

“You should be.” You smile, and you notice them grimace slightly at how unnerving you suddenly look. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, my nieces and nephew are waiting for us to return to the festival.”

Just then, the bell above the door chimes and in walk both Yunho and Yeosang with the children in tow. A white pansy is tucked into Yeosang’s hair, just behind his ear. It seems to have been placed there very carefully so as to display his birthmark, and you just know Minnie probably had something to do with that, seeing as he holds her against his hip. Marcus holds onto Yeosang’s free hand, a yellow daffodil, a pink rose, and a sprig of lilac held in Marcus’ opposite hand. On Yunho’s back rests Delilah, her giggling suddenly cut short as she peeks over his shoulder to observe the tense scene before them.

“Auntie…” Winnie’s worried gaze is suddenly on you, and you notice how Marcus begins to tremble as he looks at the man before him.

“It’s okay, Winnie,” you smile assuringly. “We were just on our way out to meet you when Rylie returned with this fine gentleman here.”

The couple stiffens.

“Bad man.” Marcus begins mumbling, taking a wary step backwards. “You’re a bad man.”

“Don’t worry, Marcus.” You begin to usher both Kamille and Trisha out, you following close behind. “We’re finished here, anyways.”

Marcus immediately clings onto Kamille as she walks passed, Trisha taking Winnie from Yeosang’s hold instantly. You don’t even spare another look at the couple as you exit the bakery, both Yeosang and Yunho observing you carefully.

Only, you don’t manage to get very far outside of the shop.

“Don’t you walk away from me, you bitch.” The man grabs your arm, quite harshly at that.

Two low growls get muffled by the bustling sounds of the festival around you.

“Sir, I recommend you release my arm before you come to regret it.” You state calmly, angling your body away from him as a crowd begins to form around you.

“The only thing I’ll come to regret is not putting your smartass in your place.” He spits, tightening his hold over your arm.

You sigh, shaking your head as you slide you bag off of your opposite arm. “Trish, be a dear and hold my bag.”

Wordlessly, she grabs it from you.

You turn your full attention back to the man in front of you.

“This is your last warning,” you meet his gaze with a dark look of your own and you notice how he falters slightly. “Release me before you lose this hand of yours.”

“Like you could ever harm me.”  He guffaws, purposely raising his voice for the now growing crowd.

At the side, both Yunho and Yeosang stand, tense. They can barely keep their eyes from flashing, both males beginning to tremble in rage the longer they observe this scene going on before them.

Faintly, you begin to hear whispers around you, all in defence and worry of you and how often this man seems to pick fights with absolutely anybody.

“I don’t think you’ll enjoy it very much when I knock you flat on your ass.” You comment.

He scoffs, “I’d like to see you try!”

The moment those words are out of his mouth you have him pinned on the ground, a light cloud of dust floating in the air. Your knee digs harshly into the man’s back, his arm twisted unnaturally behind him as you shove his face into the dirt.

Rylie’s hands come up to cover her mouth in shock, a silence settling around the crowd.

“I warned you.” You hum, almost condescendingly at the male beneath you.

A scowl is all you receive in response.

“Normally, I would have broken your hand for touching me, but I think the fact that you’re being kicked out of this village is punishment enough.” You spit quite harshly. “After all, you’ll need all the strength you can get in order to vacate the premises as quickly as possible.”

A moment of silence before a small cheer is erupting from the crowd, murmurs of glee reaching your ears. Many even go so far as to exclaim that this couple’s reign of terror is over.

“You bitch!” Rylie shrieks, running over to attempt to tackle you off of her husband.

Easily, you dodge her, watching as she trips over her husband’s legs and lands in the dirt beside him. Not even a second later, you stand, dusting off your knees all the while.

“Be grateful this is all that you’ve received from me.” You crack your neck, grabbing your bag back from Trisha in one fluid motion. “Now, I don’t want to hear you’ve bothered anyone else ever again, and you better hope I never see your faces around here again. You won’t like what becomes of it, then.”

Slowly, the man pushes himself to his feet, Rylie helping him stand all the while.

“Get back here, cunt!” He bellows, closing the distance between the both of you in a few great bounds and swinging for the back of your head with his fist.

A sickening crunch sounds around the area, followed by a pained filled cry and a high pitched shriek of horror.

Turning reveals Yeosang crushing the man’s fist in his grip, his eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them before turning their natural gold. A snarl paints his lips as the man desperately attempts to break free from Yeosang’s grip, blood beginning to drip slowly into the dirt at the male’s feet.

“If you ever lay a hand on My Fated again,” Yeosang growls, voice ringing out loud and clear through the deadly silence that now surrounds the area. His eyes flash. “I’ll kill you.”

[misscongeniality18]

Hi! I'm the anon of "Still Falling For You" and I just want to say thank you. Yo do such an amazing job and I really loved the part 1..BTW I'm so glad that you liked the idea and can't wait for the next part!

It is my pleasure, dear anon! I didn't expect that I would love this idea so much, so I had to limit myself to making this a two-part fic.

Still Falling For You, Part Two - Peter Sutherland

Synopsis ! Peter meets another agent assigned to protect Rose, and to his surprise, it's his high school sweetheart--you. (Time skip to the fight on the beach.) Pairing ! Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Genres ! Friends-to-lovers, (sort of) enemies-to-lovers Warnings ! Angst, fluff, language, violence, innuendos, kissing, no use of y/n Disclaimers ! Everything I know about the FBI is from TV shows, so this might be an unintentional crossover with Criminal Minds? Idk, it just happened Word Count - 1857

" It took us a while Because we were young and unsure With love on the line What if we both would need more But all your flaws and scars are mine Still falling for you " - Still Falling For You, Ellie Goulding

Masterlist Request Guide Part One

The car ride to the hotel had created a frostiness between you and Peter. In fact, you weren’t sure how this ‘partnership’ would work with the amount of tension brought up. But once you’d gotten to the hotel, you both went into FBI autopilot when you saw that the Secret Service agents that were supposed to be in the lobby were gone.

Your introduction to Rose was brief, but once you’d managed to actually take a breather and talk to her, Peter’s suspicion turned out to be true. You and Rose became fast friends, and yes, the two of you would become huge pains in his ass, which would spark up heated arguments and playful banter between you and Peter.

But even through all of that friction you had fallen into the easy rhythm you’d once had with Peter years and years ago. The feelings you had thought you’d pushed deep within you had been stirred up like dust on a bookshelf, and the novel you’d picked up was one you were revisiting. Was it because it was familiar and comfortable, or because it was one that you’d never gotten over and still continued to love? Or maybe, just maybe, that story wasn’t finished yet.

Perhaps it was all of the above.

Peter had changed over the years, not just physically but mentally. He was no longer the goofy boy gazing at you with puppy dog-heart eyes. He had grown up and was a full-blown golden retriever, protective and loyal to a fault. You knew his past with his father, and you’d also heard about the accusations against him for the metro bombing one year ago. You didn’t purposefully keep yourself aware of what was going on in Peter’s life, but a supposed terrorist attack in DC made the news—with Peter in the headlines. You’d heard the rumors of his involvement, but you didn’t believe them. The Peter you knew would never do such a thing. The Peter before you now wouldn’t either, no matter what he’d gone through.

His perseverance was what you had always admired most about him growing up; Peter had never let the negative affect him. His first year of high school, he didn’t make the basketball team, so for the next year, he worked even harder to improve his skills. You had even helped him, not that you were much competition.

Then Peter’s father was arrested, and his whole world turned upside down. It was a new kind of negative, one that Peter didn’t know how to handle. It had taken him down a dark path, but he emerged into the light as an FBI agent, hoping to do some good for his country.

If you were being honest, discovering how much Peter had accomplished in his life had wounded your pride. It might be petty, but it had hurt to know that he hadn’t needed you to support him and cheer him on during the ups and downs of his life. You had thought that you would always be there for each other. You thought that because he didn’t need you, you didn’t need him either.

So you worked endlessly to become a lawyer, and then you switched career paths and joined the BAU in Quantico. It was the FBI like Peter, but at least you wouldn’t have to interact with him.

Until there was a request from the White House for an agent who specialized in behavioral analysis, and your boss recommended you.

You had never thought you’d run into Peter, and when you did, you deflected and tried to keep things professional and distant between you.

But spending time with him again—even through the absolute shit show going on—you could see that the Peter you’d known, your Peter, was still there, and it hit you like a pile of bricks.

You discovered this when he left you and Rose at the Georgetown library. When Rose mentioned that she didn’t get into Stanford, Peter brought up the fact that you had, and then he’d begun to tease you about “knowing absolutely everything because you went to fancy-ass Stanford.”

That had been it for you. That was the moment you realized that your love for him had never faded, and you were desperate to tell him.

You wanted to tell him that you had never loved anyone as much as you loved him, that there had been nights where you would dream of him and remember how he had made you quiver beneath him, that he could still make your knees go weak just by smiling at you.

You wanted to tell him everything.

Then Peter had to go talk to Diane Farr, so he dropped you and Rose off at his friend Cisco’s place. You didn’t get the chance to talk to him in private. When he got back, you promised yourself, you would tell him.

But of course, everything had turned to shit again.

Peter had discovered that Farr was in on everything, so he told Cisco to drive you and Rose to the pier, but the maniacs out to kill Rose were following you. You thought you had ditched them, so Cisco dropped Rose you and off so you could get away.

When Peter finally made it to the beach and killed the man who’d shot at your group of three in the hotel ballroom, he realized that you weren’t there. Rose told him that when Cisco dropped the two of you off, the hitman had found you, so you split up to try to lure him away. Your training and experience at the BAU led you to believe that the hitman wouldn’t stray from trying to kill his target, so you told Rose to run as you started firing your gun at the hitman. You led him down a different path than the one Rose had taken, and the last thing Rose had heard was several more rounds of gunshots before the hitman had found her again.

Clutching the knife wound in his side, Peter tried to stand and Rose had to help him up. He was frantic, calling your burner until his own went dead, and then he couldn’t breathe, his words coming out in stutters and pants.

“I have to find her, Rose. I—I can’t lose her again, I have to—“

“Peter!”

Your voice broke through the darkness of Peter’s mind and the night surrounding him, and when you ran out from the tree line onto the rocky shore, it was as if everything was clear again.

You were a bit disheveled, a bloody gash on your forehead, and you were limping from graze from a bullet on your leg, but nothing was broken or seriously injured. Rose helped the two of you to a vehicle and drove to where Peter’s godfather kept his boat.

It was after Rose helped you and Peter clean your wounds when the three of you heard on the radio that Cisco had been killed and Peter was being framed for kidnapping the Vice President’s daughter. For years, Peter had worked so hard to make a name for himself that didn’t connect him to his father and his supposed crimes. And with a single message to the public, Peter was back at square one.

You and Rose had left Peter to himself on the deck of the boat as you sailed out over the water, but after a while, you decided to join him to see if you could bring him some comfort.

Peter had thrown Kevin into the water, and you sat next to him, the two of you dangling your legs over the edge of the boat.

“I’m so sorry, Peter,” you hummed, “For everything.”

Peter sighed. “The world is so fucked up right now.”

You nodded, hesitant to continue where you wanted to go. “It is, but I’m also sorry about what happened between us…back then.”

“Oh,” he said, turning to you from looking out upon the water. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You shook your head. “Yes, there is. I was still holding something back, and I guess I wanted to prove something to myself, that I didn’t need you, because you managed to make something of yourself and I wasn’t there to witness it, I—“

You let out a groan, frustrated with how your words were coming out wrong and not making sense.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I’m not blaming you. It’s me and how I’m stubborn and defiant, and I always try to prove people wrong even though they have nothing against me. My boss says that’s why I act before I think, like running headfirst into danger without a second thought.”

Surprisingly, Peter chuckled at that. “I can get that. You trying to distract that maniac at the park? It was completely reckless. I wanted to throttle you, you made me so worried.”

 “Damn, Sutherland, I didn’t think you’d be so worried about me,” you joked, nudging him with your shoulder.

You watched the expression in his eyes turn from light and playful to serious and passionate.

“Fuck,” Peter swore, muttering your name under his breath as he pulled away and began to pace despite his side bleeding. “Of course I was worried. I will always worry for you. I didn’t know what had happened, and when Rose told me that you’d split up, I was about to search every inch of the park in order to find you. I wouldn’t rest until I got you back.”

You took in the intensity of his eyes, and you knew he was serious. “Peter, you were hurt. There’s no way you would’ve—“

“It wouldn’t have mattered!” He interrupted, his voice now close to breaking. It shocked you, how concerned and emotional he was.

“Peter, what are you—“

“Damn it,” Peter cursed, turning to face you and cradling your face in his hands. “I could be missing all four of my limbs and I would still find a way to get to you.”

You closed your eyes, your skin remembering the way his touch felt. It was like cool water quenching your thirst, and nothing had ever felt so good. “God, Peter, you still know how to make me fall for you.”

When you opened your eyes, Peter’s face was so close to yours, you could make out every freckle on his skin. You glanced down at his lips, then back to his eyes, a brown as rich and delectable as chocolate.

Peter kissed you then, and it was as if the world was suddenly set right from being upside down and misaligned for so long. The way his mouth moved against yours sent tingles down your spine, and he still tasted sweet and fresh, like taking a bite out of a ripe, red apple.

It made you crave more.

You ran your hands over his shoulders, and he gripped your waist tightly, lifting you to move and straddle his lap. Peter held you close as the boat rocked with the waves, kissing you until you were breathless, and you knew that the two of you would never let each other go again.

The way I could've written an entire book with this idea, my God. Omg, should I?