#at the end of the day youre still this incompetent child

[imblocking-you]

You're getting too careless again, why are you letting yourself slip down that road again?

[star-sim]

show me how ☆ jake sim

☆ non-idol! jake x fem! reader ☆ summary: jake didn't think his casual crush on you, his hot coworker at the local ice cream parlor, would flourish into anything. but one day, after a power outage during a shift, the two of you are forced to huddle up together to keep warm, opening up many, many, many doors into your relationship. ice cream was sweet and soft. and despite your appearance, so were you. ☆ genre: coworkers to lovers, fluff, a lot of bickering, alternative! reader, jake is kind of a loser, rock references, nonchalant crushes, summer romance, baddie reader, JAKE IS JUST REALLY DOWN BAD ☆ warning(s)? slightly suggestive? just tbh its js jake being really attracted to you LOL ☆ word count: 12.3k ☆ joining @bywons 1k event for "show me how" by men i trust. i had a little bit of a different approach to crushes this time. this is extremely late im so sorry enjoy!

"Can I get uhhhhh…"

Jake deadpanned for the 15th time in the past hour.

He was trying to be kind, to be understanding, to be loving in all ways possible… He really was.

But was it that difficult to order a mint chocolate cone with rainbow sprinkles?!

Jake watched as the snotty child before him picked his nose, his eyes glazing over the menu. It’s been ten minutes and this kid was taking too long to order. For fuck’s sake, he was holding up the line!

For his summer job, Jake started working at the ice cream parlor near the pier. He thought it was a good idea, since the pay was above minimum wage and he liked ice cream.

Wrong!

It was horrible!

From rude customers to his asshole of a boss to his incompetent coworkers, Jake dreaded coming into work everyday.

It was another summer afternoon, where Jake slaved away for his corporate overlords. Summer was only kicking off, so the June gloom stuck like glue. This morning, there were already storm warnings, so imagine Jake's surprise when a whole bunch of people went to the beach today and the ice cream parlor next to it.

"Please take your time," Jake said with a tight-lipped smile. Translation: I’ve given you enough time, kid. Hurry up and order or I’ll actually snap.

The kid blinked at Jake, before picking his nose. "Can I get uhhhh…"

Jake winced, but forced a smile with a nod. "Would you like any recommendations?"

Translation: You better tip me, you little punk.

By now, he could see the angry mothers and kids at the back of the line, quietly complaining about the hold-up. All Jake could do was smile apologetically, hanging his head in embarrassment.

And to Jake's horror, as the snotty little kid was still deciding on what he wanted to order, Jake could hear the back door creaking open, followed by a "Bye, Jake!" before it slammed.

Did Jake ever say that he hated his coworkers?

Today wasn't even Jake's shift, but he had to cover three shifts, because his other coworkers couldn't give a damn. They loved to leave early because they knew that Jake would work his ass off either way. So here he was, now forced to run an entire ice cream parlor with already angry customers all by himself!

"Actually, I don't want anything," the snotty kid blinked at Jake. "Bye, mister."

With that, the kid left, oblivious to Jake's gawking face.

You've got to be kidding me.

If it weren't for the fact that his name tag had his name printed in big, thick letters and that there was already a line of impatient customers, Jake might have yelled.

As he put on his customer-service voice for the next customer in line, Jake could hear the back door creak open again if he listened past the generic pop music playing in the background.

And the moment that he heard a familiar voice, Jake nearly ascended into the sky.

"Jake, I'm here!"

There was only one part of working at this dinky little ice cream parlor that Jake liked.

And it was you.

His savior, you.

You were the only coworker that actually did your work. In fact, you went above and beyond. The only shifts that seemed to be productive on all ends were when it was you and Jake.

If he could recall correctly, today wasn't your scheduled shift either. You were probably covering someone's shift like him, too.

And plus, you were cute.

Really cute.

Jake never really thought he had a "type" when it came to girls. In fact, Jake couldn't even remember the last time he had a crush. But the moment he saw your smudged eyeliner, constant annoyed look, the multiple tassel and charm bracelets on your wrists, and your black nail polish, he knew that you were his type.

You looked like you could probably scare a baby with a single look. Honestly, you could make Jake piss himself with a single look, too. And for some reason, he liked it. A lot. Which was weird.

Within seconds of just arriving, you were already throwing on your apron, fixing up your work uniform before appearing at the counter, ready to do your fucking job.

Jake tried his best to focus on the group of middle schoolers who giggled over every word as they ordered their ice cream, but even from behind him, he could hear you cleaning one of the scoopers and getting the keys for the second cash register. Even though all you were doing was your job, Jake couldn't help but straighten up his posture and run a hand through his hair as you took the register beside him. Just in case you spared him a glance, he had to look his best.

"Hi, what can I get you?" you said chirpily, putting on your best customer-service voice, something that Jake could tell was not your forte. Although he didn't know you seriously, he's had conversations in passing with you, whether it be on slow days, during breaks, or as the two of you closed up the parlor together. You never sounded as enthusiastic as you did now, as you happily helped an old lady pick her order.

You were cool like that.

Actually, really cool.

Jake couldn't think of anyone cooler than you.

And you were pretty, and hardworking, and honest, and responsible, and cooperative, and a little bit scary, but that was hot. You were also very kind to customers, and even though Jake could see your lips— which were nice, by the way— twitch, he could tell that you were trying your best, which was good, and—

"Um, sir, can I order now?"

Jake snapped out of his daze, tearing his eyes away from you.

"R-Right!"

Completely missing the way you rolled your eyes at him, though without a little chuckle.

It wasn't always easy being the only competent worker at the parlor. While it meant you got paid more for covering so many shifts, you couldn't say it was fun working the late shifts.

The parlor closed at 11PM on weekdays, so here you were, working late into the night. 

You yawned as you rang up the last customer of the night, using all of your last bits of strength to muster a smile, before saying, "Have a good night!"

As the door slammed shut, the building winds outside providing more than enough force to ring through the entire parlor, you let out a sigh.

"They're gone, Jake," you called.

From inside the break room, you could hear Jake groan something muffled but definitely, "Finally."

Jake Sim was the only coworker you could rely on. He was the only person your age, both of you were freshly graduated highschoolers working to prepare for college experiences. Despite his party-boy look, he was surprisingly diligent. You definitely noticed how he ended up picking up another person's shift, just like you. Unlike everyone else, he actually gave a damn, which you could appreciate.

Tonight was no different from any other.

It was just Jake and you, working the closing shift together.

The moment you entered the break room, you let out an exasperated sigh, leaning on the door frame. Jake, too, was slumped over on the table, his face buried in his arms.

Your shitty coworkers always tried to convince you that you should be happy to work extra shifts: extra pay, more work experience, have a good rep with the boss.

But what they didn't mention was how absolutely draining it was to work 7 hours straight in a short-staffed busy ice cream parlor.

"Why were there so many people?" Jake groaned, shoving his face deeper into his arms. If you weren't exhausted out of your mind, you would've thought the scene before you was a funny sight. Jake, in his silly white uniform designed to look like that of a sailor's and crooked worker hat, practically melting on the break room table.

"And why were there only two of us?" you added, letting your eyelids fall shut as you leaned against the door frame.

Though, you would say, you did like working for one extra reason: Jake Sim himself.

He was as cute as a button, and pretty easy to talk to.

Jake lifted his head, quickly checking his phone.

"No seriously," he rested his face on his fist. "It was cold and dreary all day— and wasn't there a storm warning?— Why would anyone want to get ice cream on a day like this?"

You shrugged. "Beats me."

The two of you stayed in the break room in silence for a few more moments, catching your breaths after a long day. "Let's get outta here, Jake."

Here was your favorite part of the work day: closing up. Not just because it meant that you got to leave, but you could do whatever you wanted.

Jake locked up the front door and flipped the sign, while you locked up front displays and cash registers. The two of you tidied up the breakroom (which was empty because your slobs of coworkers weren't here), before pulling out the mops and cleaning up the floor.

This was the fun part.

"Hey!" Jake cried as you splashed water onto the floor, your wet mop sludging up the water as it moved against the checkered floor. Looks like some of the water got onto his pants. "What was that for?"

You shrugged, with a sly grin. "No reason in particular— Hey!"

Jake shook off the excess water on his mop, pointed directly at you, the water droplets spraying all over your shirt.

"See?" he pointed to the wet drops on your shirt. "We're even now."

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was being playful.

It was fun now because this was the time that you could play whatever music you wanted. Your manager always insisted that you'd play generic pop music during store hours, but now that it was closed, you could play any music you wanted. And it was great, because you and Jake had the same music taste.

"Really?" you whipped your head over to Jake as he passed your phone, which controlled the sound system, back to you. "Bon Jovi?"

You winced as loud vocals, strong guitar riffs, and a drum louder than you could imagine blasted through the speakers.

"Bon Jovi is good!" Jake shouted all the way from the freezers.

Maybe your taste was just a little bit different.

Jake was a cool guy. He really was. Very personable and someone that you could have fun with, even if you weren't that close to him. But sometimes his music choices were too much.

"You have no reason to be blasting hard rock at 11PM," you murmured.

"I heard that!"

You stifled a chuckle.

As you cleaned the floors, you nodded your head to the music. You could hear humming along wherever he was. It was all quiet, only the sound of mops, the freezers' buzzing, and your queued music playing in the background. It was small moments like his that made you want to keep working (other than the pay).

And plus, the parlor was very close to the beach.

At times like this, you could hear seagulls squawking overhead, with waves crashing against the shoreline.

Which... now that you thought about it...

Why couldn't you hear any of that?

Usually, even if Jake was blasting the hardest rock, you could still hear the sounds of the sea.

But now, all you heard was wind.

You glanced out the window.

Palm trees blew against the night sky. Wind whirled, creating a howling sound.

And before you could think anything of it, you heard two things: the back door slamming, and the sound of electricity buzzing.

One moment you could see everything, and the next moment it was completely dark.

Your blood ran cold.

The music stopped. The buzzing of the freezers stopped, too. It was completely dark, so dark that you couldn't even see your own hands, save for the single stream of moonlight leaking through the front windows.

You would consider yourself a calm person, you really would.

But in that moment, you felt panic set in.

Because here you were, working a late shift in a tiny little ice cream parlor in the middle of the beach, with no one but your teenage coworker. And now all the power went out.

And because you were afraid of the dark.

The mop in your hand dropped, clunking! against the checkered flooring.

Your heart pounded, so loud that you could hear it in your ears. You could feel it jumping out of your chest.

"J-Jake?" you called out.

No response.

Your mind did wonders to scare you, and now it was working over time.

What happened to Jake? Did he disappear with the lights too? You dug your teeth into your bottom lip.

Were you all alone in the dark? Just you and this dark abyss, a dark abyss so suffocating yet so cold that you couldn't even tell if you were standing or curled up. By this time, your legs were feeling weak, so you wouldn't be surprised if you were on the floor, your knees to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

The howling of the wind sent chills down your spine. Realistically, nothing could get you. You were just at work, like always, but it was just dark. But you felt like something would jump out at you, something scary and from your worst nightmares. It would get you, maybe hurt you. Were you going to die? Why did you feel so alone? What happened to everyone? What happened to Jake—

"[Name]?"

At the sound of a familiar voice, your eyes shot open.

But instead of being met with a pure, unknown darkness, you were met with a tall figure before you, completely shrouded in darkness, save for the stream of yellow light coming to illuminate its face.

Terrifying.

You let out a shriek as you jumped back.

What the hell was that? Was that what got Jake?—

It took a step forward, and before you could scream again—

"[Name]!" it was Jake's voice. He reached out for you, his hand resting on your shoulder. "It's me, Jake!"

You heard a bit of clicking, and it was then that you realized that the scary figure that you saw was just Jake with a flashlight. You relaxed.

"You okay?" Jake crouched down to your curled up figure, the yellow light of the flashlight glimmering against the floor. Although your eyes had slightly adjusted to the darkness, you could see your hands now. "I think the power went out."

You nodded slowly, still with your knees against your chest. Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You felt Jake's hand reach out for yours, interlocking fingers before giving it a squeeze.

Boom!

You jumped away from Jake, a small "eep!" escaping your lips.

Jake flinched, pointing the flashlight at the front windows.

"Thunder," he muttered under his breath. Although all the streetlights and signs had shut down too, he could see the lightning as it struck in the night sky.

He glanced at your startled form.

"Damnit," he cursed under his breath. "There was a storm warning earlier."

You hid your face in your palms.

This was everything that you didn't want to happen.

It was completely dark, and here you were practically trapped inside. It was impossible to get home, because the roads were all dark, and there was probably an oncoming storm, too. It was cold, and it was just you and your coworker. You just wanted to go home!

Although he couldn't see your face, Jake could sense your uneasiness. 

"C'mon," he tugged at your hand. "Let's go to the back."

Although Jake bumped into a few tables and counters on the way to the break room, he didn't mind. After all, there was you, who was clearly startled. He'd rather get a bruise on his hip than you.

He could hear your breath hitching, small whimpers of fear tumbling out as he led you through the dark abyss. Jake had to admit, it was much scarier when it was completely dark than when it wasn't.

The breakroom wasn't much better than in the middle of the floor, but at least there were chairs. Not that it mattered.

You and Jake decided to sit under the break table, shoulder to shoulder with the flashlight between you.

It was silent. You couldn't see Jake, but the feeling of him next to you relieved only some of your anxiety.

The flashlight only illuminated enough for you to see a few feet around you. Otherwise, everything else was a dark, bottomless void.

You knew it was illogical and practically impossible for something else to be lurking. But as minutes passed in silence, the thought of something—or someone— prowling in the dark and ready to jump out at you gnawed at you more and more. Goosebumps rose along your arms, the hair on your neck standing.

"I'm scared, Jake," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I'm so scared."

Thunder boomed in the air, lightning crackled, while heavy rain began to shower down. You jumped at the sound, your hands immediately shooting to grab Jake's arm and leaning into his touch. You squeezed your eyes shut, a scared squeak escaping your lips.

"I'm scared!" you squealed.

Jake's brows furrowed, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.

"Hey," he said into your ear, watching as you curled up against him, clutching his arm tight. "Hey, I got you."

Your hold on him only tightened as another round of thunder boomed through the night. "Open your eyes, [Name]. It's okay."

You shook your head profusely, your face pressed into his shoulder.

"Nothing's gonna get ya," he whispered, slowly rubbing circles on your back. "You're okay."

You shook your head again.

"It's so dark," you peeped. "Too dark."

"It's okay," Jake's voice was soft, soft as a cloud as he comforted you. "I'm here. I got you."

You nodded into his shoulder, but you kept your face pressed against it, not letting up.

Jake watched you, both with a soft heart and with wide eyes.

He wouldn't say he knew you too well. Even so, he'd spent a lot of time with you this summer so far, he had a few good memories with you. You were always so... cool.

Always on-task, always ready to fight a rude customer, always ready to speak up if you thought something was wrong.

It was weird. Seeing someone that Jake had always seen as a pillar of support one way or another completely drop that image of strength was… something that he never expected.

Here you were, so vulnerable in his arms.

Jake would have never expected you to be afraid of the dark, let alone some thunder, but he didn't mind. Even with your eyes closed, and even with his arms wrapped around you, you still jolted at each crackle in the sky.

If only he could do something to help you...

Jake let out an 'ah' sound.

He leaned into your ear, whispering right against the shell of your ear, "I'll be right back."

You let out another squeak as you felt Jake slipping away from you, yet he didn't take the flashlight with him.

"J-Jake—!"

"I'm still here," he said, yet you heard as he took a few steps. He was rummaging through his bag. He tried his best to feel for what he was looking for: a small, square case. "I'm with you, don't worry."

And as quick as he left your side he was back. Jake slithered his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your eyes widened a fraction as Jake fished for his phone from his back pocket.

"What were you—" you furrowed your brows— "Why’d you get up?"

You could feel Jake turn his head to look at you, and you could hear him grin.

"To get this." In his palm, Jake revealed a small, square case. His earbuds.

You blinked. "W-Why?"

"Don't worry about it." You watched confused as Jake took his earbuds out, jabbing it into the headphone port of his phone. Then, he handed you both of the ears.

"For you," he said simply.

As you were about to object, lightning striked again in the sky, yet another squeal coming from you.

You took his earbuds, jamming them into your ear.

Jake pressed the first song in his playlist.

And if you weren't scared out of your mind right now, you would have yelled at him.

Because really?

Bon Jovi?

At a time like this?

The music was loud enough that you could be distracted, but quiet enough that you could still hear Jake's voice. And when Jake noticed that you were relaxed enough, he opened his mouth.

"I'm surprised you didn't want to rip out my earbuds the moment you heard Bon Jovi," he said.

You elbowed him, yet you were still clinging onto him for dear life.

"Read the room, man," you muttered. "I'm scared shitless."

Jake laughed, and you rolled your eyes again. "This is the only time that I'll willingly listen to Bon Jovi."

"Hey!" Jake cried. "Bon Jovi is a good band."

You shot him a look. "Play some Pink Floyd, something."

You cursed Jake. Of course he'd let you listen to his music, because he got to control it!

"Nah," Jake said. "Bon Jovi is perfect for rainy nights."

You scoffed. "In what world?"

You could hear him grin again. "In my world."

What a loser.

You could see his phone screen light up, probably texts from his parents, but he ignored it. Jake’s phone was on the floor on the other side of him, the side that you were not on.

“Are you sure you won’t play Pink Floyd?” you asked slowly.

“Nope.”

Extreme times call for extreme measures.

Your arm reached across Jake’s lap, jerking to take his phone.

“Hey!” Jake yelped, squirming away from you in a way that blocked your hand from reaching his phone. “What the hell are you—“

“I’m changing the song!”

The two of you struggled like that for a few more moments, and then the next thing you knew you were on Jake’s lap, your arms pinned above your head.

“Let go of me!” you writhed, the earbuds in your eyes still blasting the hardest rock you’ve ever heard. Although you managed to take Jake’s phone, there wasn’t much you could do if he was pinning your hands above you.

“Then give me my phone back,” Jake ignored your struggling.

“Then change the song!”

“No!”

You huffed, continuing your attempt to wriggle out of Jake’s hold, but alas, he was stronger than you. “How are you so strong—“

Boom! Crackle! Thunder and lightning struck.

“Eep!” Immediately, you collapsed onto Jake’s chest, pressing your face into his shirt. You clung onto him, squeezing your eyes shut. When you could feel his chest rumble with a few chuckles, you punched his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Jake chuckled again, but he only pulled you in closer by the waist, allowing you to cling to him more comfortably.

As the storm raged on, any hope that the power would be back up was lost. Jake's phone still had service, but you could tell he was being polite and not going on his phone to not make you feel alienated. Your phone was somewhere in the front, probably on a counter or something.

"We really shouldn't have agreed to cover shifts today," you murmured, your cheek pressed against Jake's chest.

Jake hummed.

He wanted to get past the way that anytime you spoke to Jake, it was either about music or work. He didn't mind talking about these things with you, but he wished he could say more. He wanted to know what you were thinking, and hear about what you liked and disliked, what silly stories or memories you had to tell him.

He wanted to get to know you.

“What’s your favorite color?”

???

"What?"

Jake blinked. "What's your favorite color?"

You stared at him. "Why?"

He shrugged under you. "I dunno. I just wanted to get to know you better."

"Oh." What a simple reason. It made sense for such a simple question. "I like black."

Jake scoffed. "That's not a color."

"Huh? Then what is it?"

"A shade."

"Says who?"

"Says science!"

And then it was quiet again (at least on Jake's part, you were still listening to his music)

But not quite awkward.

Despite the compromising position that you were in, there wasn't any feeling of embarrassment or discomfort.

That's how Jake would describe how he felt toward you. It was an easy thing. You were cool and pretty, and he liked you. Nothing more, nothing less. No games to play, no extra calculations or hours of planning. He liked you, and he was just going to do what felt right. It was as straightforward as that.

"What are you doing after this summer?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

That's right. You and Jake had never discussed much about your personal lives, like where you went to high school, what your plans were post-high school, etc.

And now that the two of you were alone, in the dark, with virtually nothing to do, it was the perfect time to talk about it.

"I'm going up to Santa Barbara," Jake said coolly. "I'm studying biomed engineering."

"Oooh," you mused. "How exciting."

Jake let out a chuckle. "You don't sound excited."

"I am," you deadpanned, and Jake couldn't hold back a laugh.

"What about you?" Jake asked. "What are you doing?"

Even though it was dark, Jake could hear you frown.

"I'm going to Davis for International Business." You paused. "I don't know."

"Whaddaya mean?"

You shrugged. "I dunno if it's really my passion. I just chose it because—"

You're interrupted by a loud bang! followed by buzzing. You jolted, tensing up in Jake's hold, whose hand shot to the small of your back protectively.

"Eek!" you cried, and the next thing you knew, all the lights were back on.

You and Jake stayed where you were for a few moments, long enough for the freezers in the back to start buzzing again. As if someone just snapped their fingers, everything turned back on. The bright lights hitting your darkness-adjusted eyes made your eyes water.

"Oh," Jake said plainly. "The lights are back on."

"No shit, Sherlock," you muttered, earning a pinch to your side. It was now that you and Jake really realized your current positions: you were on top of him, with your head resting on his shoulders, with his arms wrapped around your waist. And it seemed like the two of you realized this at the same time.

"We should—" Jake averted his gaze from you, finding the floor next to him very interesting.

"Yeah, you're right, we should—" you slowly pulled away from him, grimacing at the feeling of Jake's arms slipping away from you.

"Yup, and—" Jake trailed off, not fully completing his thought.

Awkward.

The two of you were back on your feet in no time, both with slightly-disheveled work uniforms, but hey, it was to be expected.

Together, the two of you inspected the parlor. Just in case something slipped in while it was dark (even though that was virtually impossible).

Everything was exactly as you left it.

The mop that you dropped on the floor, your phone on the counter, the keys to the freezer that Jake threw by accident, even the messy chairs.

"Are you scared right now?" Jake asked with a chuckle as you stayed close behind him, your fingers clutching his broad shoulders. From time to time you'd peek around him, but for the most part, you stared straight at his back, unwilling to look ahead. Just in case a monster jumped out!

"I'm not." Lie.

Jake laughed, but before he could poke fun at you more—

Boom!

Oh right, the storm.

Like a cat, you jumped almost immediately, gripping Jake's shoulders for dear life.

Jake peeked out the windows. The streetlamps and signs were illuminated again.

"Looks like all the lights are back up," he said. He glanced over his shoulder to you, who clung to him. "I think we can go home now. The storm's dying down already."

You nodded, and the two of you finished closing up in silence, before preparing to leave.

"Do you have a ride?" Jake asked you as the two of you packed up your things.

Shit.

"My mom was going to pick me up because she didn't want me driving late at night," you groaned. "I'll call her right no—"

"No," Jake shook his head, reaching inside his pocket. You watched as he really shoved his hands in there, like he was searching for something. At last, after digging through his pockets for what felt like hours, he pulled out a bunch of keys, with a tiny lego keychain dangling off of it. "I'll drive you home."

After that day, you weren't called into work again for a few days. In those few days, for some weird reason, you couldn't get Jake off your mind. Which you thought was weird.

You never really thought about Jake aside from work. And it wasn't even the fact that you were thinking about him! It was the fact that you felt weird for feeling weird about thinking about him. If that even made sense.

He's always been cute. Gentlemanly, too.

When he drove you home the other day, he insisted that you didn't need to pay him back for driving you home. In fact, he said that he'd rather use more gas than have you wait alone at the parlor to be picked up. He opened and closed the door for you, showed you how to control the heaters so that you could be warm, and even let you play your music!

He was reliable too, someone that you knew you could count on. And he was very kind, because no matter how many rude customers there were, he understood that everyone was human and served them with a smile. Unlike you, who always exercised that "we reserve to deny you service" right.

These were all things that you knew. It was no surprise. You knew these things.

But after that day, you couldn't help but feel like it was... amplified.

Jake was cute, but now he was cuter. Way cuter.

He felt even more gentlemanly and reliable and kind now. Him going out of his way to comfort you, even if it meant that you had to listen to his god-awful music, warmed your heart.

And that was the weird part.

It was just so odd. You couldn't stop thinking about him. And you felt all weird and mushy for thinking about him, which made you feel even weirder!

You didn't really get it.

Surely, it wasn't a crush.

It wasn't like you were all over the place, distracted and spacy and blushing now that Jake was on your mind. You weren't rolling around and kicking your feet, nor were you giggling.

But you would be lying if you said that the simple thought of his name didn't make you excited.

Meanwhile, Jake knew exactly what was happening to him.

And it was that his crush on you definitely deepened tenfold.

In the moment, when he was with you, whether it be the other day or any other day at all, he was always nonchalant. It was a casual crush, he'd say. Everything was straightforward with no games to play.

But that was a lie.

Because here he was, lying on his bed and staring at his ceiling. He hugged his pillow, embarrassingly pretending that it was you. He felt like a weirdo, but he couldn't get the feeling of you clinging to him and in his arms out of his head!

Just the mere thought of that night made him have to roll around and giggle for a few moments.

Jake sucked in the scent of his pillows. Unfortunately, they didn't smell like you, just like laundry with a faint scent of his own cologne.

You were so pretty, and cool, and kind, and smart, and practical, and just everything good in the world. And then when you got scared and clung to him, it made his heart flutter, because who knew you could be so cute?

Jake let out a squeal into his pillow, his cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling.

For the first time ever, Jake actually wanted to go to work. Just to see you.

He couldn't wait for it.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," you said for the millionth time today. "We don't have that here—"

Another day at work. Just when the idea of going to work didn't sound too bad, you're reminded why you hate it.

Apparently some kids on TikTok spread a rumor that your parlor had a special, limited-edition, summer unicorn flavor. And even worse, your damn social media manager was hinting at it on Instagram, too.

So here you were now, trying to explain to a hoard of angry customers that this limited-edition unicorn flavor was absolutely false. To think that your own social media manager would betray you and your coworkers like this just to attract more customers... You shouldn't be unsurprised but you were.

Diabolical.

It must've been the 90th time in the past hour that you had to explain that you had no fucking clue what a unicorn flavor would be, and if you weren't a tired and overworked teenager, you would've felt bad when a little girl bursted into tears in the middle of the store.

Cry about it, you thought, and you couldn't tell if that sentiment was towards your angry customers, or if it was towards upper management that were about to get multiple complaints about you.

Breathe, you had to tell yourself. It's not worth it. Where was everyone else anyway? You couldn't believe that you were left completely alone to operate the establishment on your own. And most of your coworkers were older than you anyway. Those bums!

You sucked in another breath, putting on your best smile.

"You're telling me that you don't actually have the limited-edition unicorn flavor?!" an angry father crossed his arms, upset with his children cowering beside him.

"No, sir," you said as politely as you could. "That was just a rumor. My apologies for the inconven—"

"Unacceptable!"

You winced, feeling your ears warm up. If everyone in the parlor wasn't already watching you like a hawk, all eyes were now on you.

"I had to drive two hours here," the father slammed his hand on the counter, leaning in so close that you could smell him. "I drove two hours here for unicorn ice cream and you're telling me that it was all a lie?!"

All of this.... for ice cream?"

"I apologize, sir," you hung your head low to appear genuine, clasping your hands together. "That must have been a long ride and—"

"Shut up and give me my ice cream, you bi—" Your eyes widened a fraction as you saw a big palm swinging your way... Was he about to slap you? In the milliseconds that you could even react, you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the stinging feeling of a hand against your cheek.

But instead, you felt nothing, only the sound of a few gasps and light chuckling.

"Hey, there, sir," you heard Jake's voice as you peeled your eyes open.

Jake was beside you, his hand wrapped around the man's wrist that was mere inches away from your face.

"J-Jake?!"

The man struggled in Jake's grip, attempting (and failing horribly) to pull his wrist out of Jake's hand.

"Let go of me, boy!" he yelled. Everyone's eyes were on the scene now. How embarrassing.

Jake narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip.

"Here at Layla's Ice Cream Parlor, we reserve the right to deny any patron service," he said plainly.

The man scoffed. "And are you about to deny me service? What are you, the manager?"

Jake only shook his head calmly.

"You were about to assault my coworker here," he motioned toward you, then to the man's still-raised hand. "I don't need to be any manager to realize that someone of that sort has no business here."

Jake shot him a smile, before roughly letting go of his wrist, letting it fall to the counter.

"Please leave, sir."

He glanced around the room, noticing the way everyone stared at him. Another tight-lipped smile spread on his face.

"There are no limited-edition summer flavors, so if that is what you are here for, I apologize for the disappointment. " Jake glanced at you. "Please help yourself to the flavors that we actually have."

With that, Jake took you by the wrist, pulling you into the breakroom.

"W-Wait Jake—!" you tried to pull out of his grasp. "There's still customers out there."

He gently pushed you down onto a chair.

Jake crouched down at your sitting figure, putting his hands on your knees. He squeezed them playfully. "You've done enough today. I'll handle the rest."

"But— But there's a lot of people today," you reasoned, placing your hands on his. "You can't run the entire place on your own...!"

But before the last syllables could even leave your lips, Jake was already retying his apron, fixing his dumb uniform hat. Before he slinked away through the door, he glanced over his shoulder, gripping the door frame.

"I'll prove you wrong," he said with a grin. "Just watch."

(You were right, he was wrong. Not even the most exemplary worker like Jake could handle an entire exuberant ice cream parlor by himself. The moment you saw his tired eyes you were already throwing on your apron. Though, you got a good laugh out of it afterwards.)

You deadpanned.

This was not what you signed up for.

It was Saturday, the day that you swore was your break day from work. And then all of a sudden you got an urgent call from your manager and you rushed to work immediately.

You thought that the parlor got robbed, or maybe something broke down.

Nope.

"You want me..." you blinked, "To wear that?!"

Lo and behold, before you was a comically large ice cream costume, with a brown waffled body for the cone and the most obnoxious white swirl reaching high in the ceiling, with only a circular cut-out to see your face.

Apparently, sales were dwindling, so your managers decided to try out some new advertising.

You were going to wear that godforsaken ice cream costume and hang outside the parlor to attract customers.

"Kid-friendly language only," your manager instructed you matter-of-factly. "No swearing, no saying mean words."

You tuned him out.

And if the walk of shame out of the bathroom in your ice cream costume wasn't bad enough, you were hit with the last thing you wanted to see: Jake Sim.

You were about to jump and shriek and let the ground open up and devour you whole... when you realized that he was wearing an ice cream costume too...!

"You too?!" you cried. Behold, in front of you stood your favorite coworker Jake Sim with an equally deadpan expression, clad in the ridiculous ice cream costume.

"Yup," Jake muttered, popping the p. "I guess we'll never be free."

And he was indeed correct.

There was truly nothing more mortifying than standing outside the damn ice cream parlor, holding an even more obnoxiously bright sign and trying to attract customers... all in your humiliating ice cream costume.

Kids laughed at you from across the street. Cars that passed by you probably did the same. Absolutely demoralizing.

"Come to Layla's Ice Cream Parlor," you said in a monotone voice, trying your very best to not burst into tears of sheer embarrassment. "We have ice cream... and... uh—"

You glanced at Jake, whispering to him, "What else do we have?"

"Ice cream." He said, absolutely no expression in his voice or face. Oh god, we must have lost him too! "Nothing but ice cream."

Poor guy, he looked like he wanted to disappear.

This must have been a punishment, or something. Maybe a humiliation ritual. But after a good ten minutes, you and Jake just decided to commit to the bit. After all, you were getting paid extra for this.

"Ice cream, ice cream!" you and Jake chanted as you paraded around the vicinity of the parlor. After all, there was nothing you could do but make the best of it. You went out of your way to speak to oncoming customers, advertising with the most energy you could. "Come to Layla's Ice Cream!"

But it wasn't always easy.

Like always, customers and children were rude.

"Hello, miss, are you interested in trying some of Layla's yummy yummy ice cre—" and then you got laughed at. Like actually. They just started pointing and laughing at you. Like you were some freak.

And then Jake tried to square up some little kids a few times, it was a mess.

And finally, after what felt like years out there trying to advertise to people, your manager finally called you guys back in. Apparently, you and Jake did such a wonderful job that you guys were needed back at the front. Your coworkers couldn't seem to keep up. Lazy asses.

You and Jake went back inside to change back into your work uniforms— those stupid blue and white sailor uniforms. Except, one of your coworkers was having an "emergency" in the staff bathroom (you were certain it was just Beomgyu sitting on the toilet with his phone and refusing to do his job), so both you and Jake had to change in the staff break room.

At the same time.

"Okay, you will change, and I will cover you—"

"Shut up!" you exclaimed. "Why can't we just change at the same time?"

Jake was being terribly awkward about it.

"B-Because!" he reasoned, unable to hide the way he couldn't look you in the eye. "Because.... you're a girl, and I'm a guy!"

"Aaaaand?" you drew out your syllables, crossing your arms over your chest.

"We can't possibly change in the same room?" Jake cried. "What if— What if I accidentally see your—"

Your cheeks warmed up. What was he on about? "You're not going to!"

Your boss was really annoying about punctuality, so you and Jake should probably change quickly anyway. You ignored Jake's fussing, raising your arms as you began to pull your shirt over your head.

"What are you—"

"Just change!"

In the end, you guys just did the easiest option: turning around so that you faced opposite directions while the other changed... which should have been intuitive for Jake (but he's a little slow).

When you two were both done changing, you turned back around to face Jake, about to let out your grievances about working.

Except, when you saw him, you couldn't help but let out a giggle.

Because your work uniform was supposed to resemble that of a sailor, there were a few complex pieces, such as the sailor scarf draped over your shoulders and neck. Usually, you need a mirror to tie it properly. There was also the damn paper sailor hat that you had to wear.

Since you weren't changing in the bathroom, there was no mirror, so poor Jake's hat and tie were sloppily done, crooked on his person.

"Jake," you smiled, motioning for him to come toward you. And when he was close enough, you yanked him even closer to you by his shoulders, causing him to let out a yelp.

"W-What are you doing?" he asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice.

You giggled again. Your hands began to work on his tie, undoing his sloppy tie and neatly folding it. "Relax, you big baby."

When you were done with his tie, you fixed Jake's hat, oblivious to the way Jake's ears and neck turned a noticeable shade of red.

"There you go," you said with a grin. "All good!"

Jake looked at you with shaky eyes. You were close to him now. Close enough that he could feel your breath fanning his cheeks. Close enough that if he just leaned in a bit more, he could kiss you— Jake jerked himself away from you abruptly. His heart was pounding in his chest at an abnormal rate.

Don't think about kissing her when she's right in front of you! he scolded himself. You gave him a questioning look, before you just grinned again and left the break room.

Ah, Jake was going crazy.

Man, fuck you Beomgyu! you mentally cursed your other coworker. You were absolutely correct; earlier he was indeed hogging the staff bathroom so that he could shirk his responsibilities. According to Jake, Beomgyu did this really often, to the point that the staff bathroom ran out of soap too fast because Beomgyu was busy playing with soap and making dumb ass bubbles in there.

Of all times, it had to be now that the staff bathroom just decided to run out of soap?

It was getting late, so your manager told you to start cleaning. And just as you began, some little unsupervised middle schooler skateboarded right into you, spilling his three scoops of chocolate ice cream with layers of caramel and peanut butter sauce all over your white uniform.

And all you were given were a few measly napkins to wipe but the sticky sweet mess, only after you cleaned up the mess on the floor. Now as you desperately tried to clean the mess off your uniform in the staff bathroom, you were certain that your manager was going to yell at you later.

As you reached for another hand towel from the dispenser, you let out a groan as you realized that there were no more. Seriously, what was Beomgyu doing in here that he just used up all the soap and paper towels?

"[Name]," you heard a knock on the door. It was Jake. "You good in there?"

You groaned again.

"No!" you cried from the other side of the door. You were frustrated, how bothersome! Even if there were more paper towels, there still was a giant brown stain on your shirt. And you'd probably have to get another uniform. "It looks like a shit stain!"

You heard Jake chuckle from the other side of the door, before his footsteps retreated. After a few minutes, Jake came back.

"Can I come in?" he asked, knocking again on the bathroom door.

"Door's unlocked."

Except, instead of seeing Jake in his usual work uniform, he had a big black hoodie thrown over him, probably one that he was wearing before he changed into his uniform earlier. In his hands was a white shirt.

"Wear this," he said as he shoved the white shirt into your hands.

It was his own uniform shirt.

"But—" you tried to reason with him, but he put his hand up, silencing you.

"Can't have you walking around with a shit stain on your shirt," he said with a cheeky grin, earning him a slap on the arm.

"But you'll get in trouble," you breathed. Your manager was really particular about workers wearing uniforms, and for some reason not about workers actually doing their job.

Jake shrugged. "It's about time I did." And flashed you another smile. "And plus, I was going to get in trouble anyway. Apparently, defending my coworker from a rude customer is punishable."

Ah, the unicorn ice cream incident from a few weeks ago.

Was he really that willing to get in trouble for you?

As you closed the door to the bathroom, you could already hear your manager and another coworker making their comments about Jake. Although you couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, it must have been the usual remarks about inefficiency. And probably about how he wasn't wearing work-appropriate clothes.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you listened to their muffled voices.

Jake was really getting in trouble all for your sake.

As you buttoned up his white shirt, you noted that it carried the scent of his cologne. It smelled good, and you instinctively brought the sleeve up to your nose to catch a better whiff. But then you felt weird and stopped immediately.

It wasn't fair. Everything about your job.

You and Jake had to do all the work, but even so, the managers were disproportionately harsher with Jake than they were with you. Probably because of some sexist bullshit.

And then there were rude and entitled customers.

Jake was taking the fall for you too much.

And you couldn't keep letting it happen.

As you made your way out of the staff bathroom, you could hear your manager berating Jake, with another coworker joining in.

"And why are you not in our employee dress code?" your manager chided. "This is unacceptable! A hoodie? What do you think will happen to our store's brand?"

Jake just hung his head low, but you could tell he was annoyed more than anything. "It was because [Name]'s shirt got ruined, and she was uncomfortable."

"And what business do you have with [Name]?" your coworker joined in lambasting the poor Jake.

"Look, man," Jake looked up at them. "I was just helpin' her out." Jake paused for a moment. "And plus it's closing hours anyway. It's not like anyone sees me out of uniform."

Your manager and coworker thought for a few moments, before your coworker said, "Well, you're still causing a hindrance for our parlor. I think we will cut you weekly pay—"

His weekly pay? Ridiculous. Your body moved on its own, and before you knew it, you had bursted through the door.

"I-It was my fault!" you blurted, your lips moving faster than you could think. "Jake was just helping me."

You ignored the way Jake looked at you with eyes big as saucers, surprised. You swiped your tongue over your lip. "I-It's really my fault. If there's anyone that should get their weekly pay cut, it should be me."

Jake's face visibly contorted, his brows crashing together. "[Name]—"

"That's enough," your manager finally spoke up. The older man sighed, before checking his wrist watch. "Jake, [Name], just forget about it. Don't make this mistake again. Just close up for the night."

And with that, you and Jake were left alone once more.

"What was that all about?" Jake asked you as the two of you closed up.

"What was what?"

Jake huffed, leaning on the mop. "You know, what happened earlier about uniforms?"

"Oh." You shrugged, not really paying him any mind. "What about it?"

Jake huffed again. "Y'know... Why did you step in?"

You finally looked at him, before blinking a few times. "Isn’t it obvious?"

Jake smiled. "No, that’s why I’m asking you."

You scoffed playfully. "Okay, smartass."

You paused for a few moments. "You’re my friend, Jake. You’ve protected me in the past, so I'm just returning the favor."

"Thank you," Jake replied, unable to hide the smile growing on his face. "That's very kind of you.

You just hummed in response, going back to cleaning up.

Jake teetered on his feet, back and forth, as he played with his fingers. His heart pounding in his chest, Jake chewed on his bottom lip.

He was nervous.

Just this morning, you texted him if he wanted to hang out with you, because as you said, you were bored.

Hanging out? With you? The hottest girl that he's ever seen? There was no way in hell that he'd say no to such a golden opportunity.

You'd told Jake to meet you at the pier, because there was a nice mall area around there. As you relayed in your texts, you were going on vacation in a few weeks, and needed to go shopping for it.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't have any ulterior motives. You weren't really sure how you felt about Jake. He was cute, and sweet, and you definitely wanted to get to know him better. And there was a part of you that desperately wanted to impress him.

Maybe today could be an opportunity for you.

You checked your reflection in the car window before you got out of your mom's car. Muttering a "bye," you made your way toward where you told Jake to meet you.

It was a sunny day. You chose to wear something breathable, a pretty pink sundress with a cardigan. You didn't dress like this on most days. You liked to opt for dark colors, but today you wanted to be... cute.

Pretty for Jake.

You spotted Jake pretty easily. Not because he had anything that made him physically easy to identify, not at all. It was more like... you simply could just spot him. It was like you had a newfound Jake-radar.

"Hi," you said with a smile. And for some reason, it seemed like Jake was startled, with his eyes widening as he caught sight of you. "Are you okay?"

Jake stared at you for a few moments, and you swore you saw the way his eyes looked you up and down. His lips parted, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he swiped his tongue over his lips.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment. You didn't wear light colors normally, was it obvious that this dress was not something that you usually wear? Did you look strange? Maybe you should've worn your typical black clothing, and—

"N-No," Jake stammered, his eyes still looking you up and down. Truth be told, he had to bite back a "damn." Because yes, damn, you looked hot. "You look— You look nice today."

Your cheeks prickled with warmth. "Oh. Thank you."

"You don't..." Jake continued, as if he was on autopilot. You were beginning to feel really shy when you realized that he was really staring at your chest area. "You don't wear pink often, do you?"

You averted your gaze. "You're right, I don't." How embarrassing! So he notices the things you wear... and he probably 100% knows that you don't wear pink at all. "Does it look weird, or—"

"No!" Jake blurted, before catching himself. He cleared his throat, his ears a warm shade of pink. "Not at all. I really, uh, meant it when I said— When I said you looked nice."

You nodded slowly. Was it normal to feel so warm? Maybe you should check the weather again?

"Really nice," Jake echoed himself. If you weren't busy feeling shy yourself, you would have noticed Jake checking you out for the 50th time already.

You murmured a brief "thanks," before you quickly changed the subject.

"Shall we go?"

It was unusual to feel awkward or shy around Jake, and vice versa. You knew for sure that Jake was a special person, but it never affected you. For Jake, he was determined to be calm and nonchalant when it came to you. And plus, your friendship was always casual anyway.

Which was why all of your shyness dissipated pretty quickly.

You took Jake along to all the spots at the pier's mall area.

"What are you looking for?" Jake asked as he trailed after you. Jake will never understand women. You've been to 4 stores already, and all you've done is touch things and say, 'Oh this is cute.' And then you'd leave.

You shrugged. "Cute things for vacation."

Jake looked around, through the store mirrors as you two traversed the mall area. "Any preferences?"

You shrugged again. "I like dark colors, but I don't mind brighter colors for vacation, yaknow?"

Jake hummed.

The two of you walked around for a little longer until you stopped in front of a store.

"What's this?" Jake asked.

You grinned. "A swimsuit store."

Listen, Jake wouldn't consider himself an easily-excitable guy. He wasn't pervy, either. Especially toward you! He was nonchalant!

But as he entered the girly swimsuit store, he couldn't help but redden at the thought of you in some of these swimsuits. Some of them were provocative and cheeky, making Jake's stomach do flips as his mind crept into places that made it hard for him to make eye contact with you. Other ones were cute and frilly, arguably making Jake's heart pound even faster as he imagined you in them.

"Hey, what do you think about this one?" you asked Jake as you took one of the suits off the rack.

On the inside, Jake was already drooling at the thought. But on the outside he simply nodded, giving a playful smile and a thumbs up. And really, he thought that if he could maintain that attitude for the rest of the time in this swimsuit store, he'd be fine.

But he was wrong.

"Okay, I'm gonna try these on, and I'll have you give me feedback."

What.

What?

And so Jake sat in the couches in front of the changing rooms, simply awaiting his death.

He's not weird, he swears. He doesn't want to be creepy or gross toward you.

But how could he not sweat and basically hyperventilate in these changing rooms when the hottest girl that he's ever seen (you) is about to ask him for his opinion on swimsuits?

Jake was certain that no matter what, you would look hot.

And he was proven correct when you slipped out of the changing rooms.

"Okay, first one," you said, in a voice that was a little too relaxed. You went on your tiptoes, doing a few turns here and there so that Jake could see the full extent of the suit on you. "What do you think?"

And oh.

Good lord.

Jake was really trying his best not to make you uncomfortable.

But there was absolutely no way that he could just sit there and not react. His jaw quite literally dropped the moment he saw you.

The way the suit hugged your body, the way the colors illuminated your skin, the way you were 100% feeling yourself in it— All of it was making Jake 2 seconds away from crashing out.

You must have been a goddess. Or maybe Jake saved a country in his past life.

"It looks— You look— I— You—" he stumbled over his words. There were no words to describe how you looked. You looked downright beautiful. Like, if Jake died now he wouldn't mind. And when you giggled at his reaction, he took a deep breath. Don't be a weirdo! he told himself.

"You look beautiful," he breathed, finally catching himself. His eyes flickered back up to your pretty, pretty face. "You look really beautiful in this one."

"Thank you," you smiled at him. You did another twirl, something that you definitely knew drove him crazy. And if you hadn't noticed him checking you out, Jake was certain that you definitely knew now.

And maybe Jake didn't know enough about women. Because he really believed that that one swimsuit was the only one that you were trying on.

And he was so wrong.

Because there were at least 3 more that you wanted to show him!

Oh, he wasn't going to survive this.

Well, Jake did survive.

After insisting on carrying your shopping bag full of your new swimsuits (Jake didn't dare peek inside because he thought he'd combust), you decided to do some more exploring.

You got some food to munch on, and went to all types of stores. And you took many pictures, too! Pictures together, of you trying on hats and sunglasses. Candid pictures of each other, many of which where you look pretty without even trying and Jake's mind is blown.

More exploring, walking, sitting down, walking, and then sitting for 30 minutes because both of your feet hurt. A lot of laughing, a lot of dumb conversations, and even more laughing.

And before you knew it, it was getting dark out. Suddenly, the sound of the waves crashing filled the air, the cool beach wind blowing against your cheeks. 

"Let's go walk along the shore!"

And so you did.

The orange sky was fading into a dark blue, and yet, the sun still shone so brightly as it submerged into the horizon. The water gently rocked against the shoreline, while the scent of sea salt and seaweed filled your senses.

It was a cool evening, and you tugged on the sleeves of your cardigan to warm your cold hands.

By now, the beach was quiet. Many people had already left, as it was slowly becoming nighttime.

In quiet moments like this, you couldn't help but fully conceptualize Jake as a person.

He was a handsome boy your age. He was kind, sweet, responsible, silly, everything great in a person. And he had a similar music taste to you, too. And here he was, walking alongside you as the sun set.

Your eyes fluttered over to him. His eyes were trained on the sand below his feet, appreciating the way the wet granules covered his skin.

He was a straightforward person. Things went from A to B with him easily. No games, nothing to hide. And yet, you felt like there was so much to discover about him. There was an entire world undiscovered in his head. And you wanted to be a part of it.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked suddenly, interrupting the calm silence.

"You."

.

.

.

You?

You could feel your heart picking up speed, but you kept your composure. Meanwhile, you swore your skin was prickling with an uncharacteristic warmth.

"I-I mean—" Jake seemed to snap out of his daze. "I— I was just thinking about you, and work, and summer, and—"

You blinked, but your lips spread into a tight smile. You didn't know why you felt disappointed.

You sucked in a breath. "The water's really nice tonight."

"Mhm," Jake agreed. He wasn't blind. He could see the way your face fell ever so slightly. He could see when you felt flustered or shy because of him.

But what if he was misinterpreting things? What if his eyes were playing tricks on him?

But then you'd look up at him with those shiny eyes, almost like you were begging him to give you his heart.

Just go for it.

His eyes dropped to your hands, which were still tugging on your sleeves to keep warm.

Jake clicked his tongue. Boldly, he grabbed your hands, clasping them in yours.

"Hey!" you cried.

"Geez, your hands are so cold," he murmured, before locking his fingers with one of your hands. As if nothing happened, Jake just continued walking along the shore, this time with your hand in his.

You stared at your interlocked fingers for a few moments, before you swallowed all of your shyness and continued trailing with him.

The two of you returned to walking in silence, nothing but the sound of the water and your breaths filling the air.

Jake wasn't lying when he said he was thinking of you, because he really. He always was. And just as he was about to fall back into thought, your hand pulled away from his.

With curious eyes, Jake watched as you silently pulled out a tiny plastic case from your purse.

Your earbuds.

You plugged them into your phone, before jamming one of the buds into your own ear. You looked at Jake expectantly, and he took the second earbud graciously.

You bit back a laugh as you turned on your music.

The second you pressed 'play,' a hardy bass and an unforgettable drumline played into your ears.

"Are you serious?" Jake immediately snapped his head at you. "Fleetwood Mac?!"

You laughed, throwing your head back. "I wasn't about to let you ruin the beach vibe and play Bon Jovi."

"I don't only listen to Bon Jovi—!"

And just as you and Jake were enjoying music, the beach, and most importantly, each other, Jake's phone rang. And of course, his ringtone was a Bon Jovi song.

You gave him a look as his lips spread into a goofy smile.

Not daring to tear out the earbud, he picked up his phone and listened with his other ear.

And even though it was nearly nighttime by now, you could still see how Jake's face morphed.

When he hung up, his face dropped.

"They need me to take someone's shift."

Oh.

This was really, very, genuinely, seriously annoying.

Because unfortunately, the truth was that if they needed Jake to work, then they probably needed you to work too.

Because they always needed you and Jake to work.

And so, here your (not-so official) date was ending.

Apparently, it was extremely urgent, and they insisted on paying Jake extra if he came. Not to worry, because he texted your manager to make sure that you'd get extra pay if you came along, too.

The moment that you stepped into the parlor, you could feel all the joy leaving your body. You swore that Layla’s Ice Cream Parlor had evil spirits in there, designed specifically to simply fill your body with dread.

You put on one of the spare work uniforms that the parlor had in the back. It was a little big, and a little itchy, but whatever.

When Jake got the phone call and explained to you the situation, you were fully expecting a packed parlor, with a line that went out the door and your incompetent coworkers couldn't handle it, or something. But now that you were in the parlor, you realized that that was just a load of bullshit.

"Empty," Jake muttered behind you. "There is absolutely no one here."

You hummed in agreement, equally deadpan.

Those lazy bums.

They just didn't want to work the closing shift. They just didn't want to do the cleaning or locking up. They just wanted you to take their shifts so that they could go home and relax.

And so here you two were, just lazing around in the breakroom, just trying to pass the time. You let your phone play some random playlist.

"I'm sorry," Jake said, with his cheek pressed against the breakroom table. "We were hanging out and I decided to take us to work."

"Nah, you're justified," you said lazily. "They're promising us extra pay, so it's fine."

The room went silent again, but you could tell Jake was thinking something. And indeed, he was.

Jake felt horrible! Although you did agree to come to work with him, he still felt back. Did he just fumble your first (unofficial) date? God, he's so stupid! Now you two were stuck in the worst place on earth.

He stared at your bored expression.

He couldn't let you stay bored.

Without a word, he got up from his seat in the breakroom and disappeared out to the front. You could hear some cluttering and buzzing.

"Close your eyes!" he yelled before he came back to where you were in the breakroom. And you complied.

"What are you doing, Jake?" you asked, but you couldn't help but smile. He was definitely up to some antics.

"Just close your eyes," he instructed you, before sitting down with you at the breakroom table again.

Jake clasped his hands together. "I have three cups of ice cream here. You will close your eyes and guess which one is which."

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" Jake laughed. "We can't get bored in here."

You chuckled. "Okay, fine."

Jake watched you intently as he spoon-fed you the first spoonful of ice cream.

The first flavor was strawberry, your personal favorite.

Maybe it was getting late, or maybe Jake was just too obsessed with you, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the way your pretty lips opened up for the ice cream. He was simply so mesmerized by the way you licked your lips, relishing in the way the sweet strawberry ice cream melted on your tastebuds.

"This is so obvious," you nudged him, kicking him from under the table. "At least make it hard for me!"

Jake rolled his eyes playfully. "Just guess!"

You huffed, mumbling something about him being stupid under your breath. "Strawberry. Duh."

"Woo hoo!" Jake cheered for you. "It was strawberry!"

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."

The second flavor was ube. Which you guessed almost immediately.

"Next flavor, please," you giggled. "This game is too easy,"

But Jake wasn't listening to you in the slightest.

Just why did you have to start licking the spoon clean? The way your glossy lips wrapped around the spoon, your tongue wrapping around the smooth plastic, and now he was feeling all types of things, and—

"Seriously, make it harder for me!"

Jake gulped.

The last flavor he had was salted caramel. His own personal favorite.

He'd already taken a few bites out of it.

He glanced at your lips, then down at the salted caramel ice cream.

Even under the corporate light of the break room, you still glowed so prettily. And you must have been doing it on purpose, the way you were keeping the spoon in your mouth, with your lips wrapped around it so prettily.

Jake's eyes flickered back to your lips once more, then to the salted caramel ice cream.

His heart was already pounding in his chest. All the blood was rushing to his head and Jake thought that he'd faint.

Your lips were just so damn pretty.

It seemed like something was possessing Jake's body. While his mind was frozen on your lips, his body was moving on its own.

He reached out for you first, his large hand taking solace on your shoulder.

And in one, fluid motion, Jake leaned in, and closed the gap between his lips and yours.

Your lips were soft and sweet, like clouds. Jake's eyes had unconsciously fallen shut, and the moment that he realized that he was kissing you, they shot open. However, just as he was about to pull away, because oh my god he was kissing you, and he didn't even ask!, Jake felt your hand slither up around his neck.

You pulled him in even closer, deepening the kiss.

Jake felt dizzy. It was the way your tongue dipped into his mouth when he let out a little gasp. Or maybe it was the way your fingers ran through his hair, almost as if you were desperate to keep his lips on yours. Your everything— your hands, your lips, your scent— they were all driving him insane.

Jake didn't want it to end, and if it weren't for his need for air, he wouldn't have pulled away. Ever.

The two of you sat there, breathless, staring into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. Jake's cheeks were red, his pupils blown out with desire. His eyes fell down to your lips.

"Salted caramel," you breathed, your hands sliding down to his shoulders. You squeezed his shoulders. "You taste like salted caramel— kiss me if that's the answer—"

And you didn't need to ask him twice, because Jake was already crashing his lips against yours.

There was something so addictive about your lips. The way you moaned against his lips, the way you clung onto him like you needed him, it was all driving him crazy.

Jake needed more, he needed you.

In his head, it was all just you, you, you.

"I want you so bad," Jake mumbled against your lips. "Please."

He could feel you giggle, but he simply just slides his hand around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved against his in ways that were too perfect to be real. Jake felt like he was in heaven. You were heaven. You were angelic, you were godly, you were—

"Um, excuse me, are you guys still open?"

!!!

You and Jake jumped away from each other.

Shit.

It was still store hours.

"Are we going to get fired?"

Now it was actually closing hours.

You and Jake started cleaning after you were so rudely interrupted, and now it was time to close up.

And it was awkward.

Your heart was practically leaping out of your chest. It felt like forever since you shared your kisses with Jake. And now, you craved his lips once more.

But what if it was just on the whim? What if Jake just did it to do it?

You just wanted him so bad. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to feel him again.

"For what?"

You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes refusing to meet Jake's.

"Kissing coworkers."

"No!" Jake's cheeks flared up. "Of course not!"

"Then..." your brows furrowed. Your face felt hot to the touch. You felt like you were going to get a heart attack. Seriously, you felt like you were burning up, all the while you felt frozen in time and space. You slowly looked up at Jake. "Then can we... you know... keep doing it?"

.

.

.

"I— I mean, if you don't mind— and if it's not something that we could get fired for—" you stammered— "Then can we... you know— can we keep kissing?"

Jake was already on it.

“Eek, Jake, lock the doors first!”

After a few more weeks of hiding in the storage closet to makeout, and honestly straight up shirking your responsibilities to kiss in the breakroom, you and Jake did the unthinkable.

"We resign!"

Your manager looked at you incredulously. "W-What?"

You and Jake smiled. "We quit."

You've never felt more free. With your boyfriend at your side, it seemed like the summer was endless.

BONUS

"Did I ever tell you that I liked you?" you asked Jake, in his car just moments after you quit your job.

"I don't think you did, babe," Jake laughed.

"Oh."

You should probably put that on your to-do list.

You glanced at your boyfriend. How his lips looked so kissable.

Sigh. You'll tell him what you like later. It's time to kiss!

note: please reblog n comment if you enjoyed! xoxo vanya >_<

[evilminji]

You Know How There Are Those AU? Where SUPER Injured Ghosts Need To Retreat To Their Core?

No one seems to be USING that to its fullest potential! For SHENANIGANS! Because! Who?? Could POSSIBLY carry a Halfa's Core safely... but another Halfa?! A FULL ghost would KILL them. A human would be killed! What terribly precarious peril we find ourselves in! Oh nooooooo!

Well, no worry!

As much as Dani fuckin HATES this. That there is her brother. Her Template. Her Clone Daddy and Bestest of Bros. Like HECK she's gonna let him suffer for centuries and possibly DIE. She can take it, Doc! Pop him in! We'll go road tripping and-

What do you MEAN "No"?

Unstable??! Of course she's unstable! But the-.... Oh.

Turns OUT? Dani? Can hitch a ride in DANNY for Emergency Medical Aid... but NOT the other way around. Her body is too loosely held together. He would parasiticly consume her from within. Instead of feeding off her Ecto System like injured ghosts are supposed too, because she's a CLONE? AND an unstable one at that? His Core would just... see her body as free ectoplasm. All of it.

He'd eat her.

Which mean Frostbite can not and WILL NOT allow that.

But he's HURT! That big, off screen, cataclysmic Fight To Save Everybody From *cough cough mumbles* and settle us all in the DC universe, REALLY messed him up! What are we supposed to DO!? He can't STAY like this!!!

Enter-> My FAVORITE DCxDP Trash Ship! Vlad&Lex!!! *horrified screaming from the crowds, someone shouts "oh god, no! Please!"* Ha! There are no gods here, silly billys! Only two terrible, terrible HIGHLY Dramatic, self serving, incredibly damaged, gay peacocks. In Business Suits that cost more then your house is worth.

They're AWFUL~♡

And! Vlad was sent ahead to lay the ground work. Insure there would be no GIWs. Also because no one could stand him and his EXTENSIVE criminal record. But that's besides the point.

But!

You know what he found? A Business Nemesis. Who he routinely dates and/or Dramatically Hate Fu-*coughs* I mean, attempts a Corporate Take Over(tm) off. You know how it is. Business. He ALSO gets to make it no secret he's a "Meta", thanks to the INCOMPETENCE of one Jack Fenton, because that- *seething rant*

Yet? Dispite his STILL burning hatred for Jack? And his finally letting go of Maddie? You know what he STILL wants?

For Danny to be his Son.

*Gets a call from Frostbite*

...............soooooo........ what you're SAYING is..... I can be pregnant with Daniel.

You, Frostbite, need ME, Vladimir Masters, THE ONLY OTHER HALFA, to carry Daniel around inside my body, in what to all appearances resembles a pregnancy, in order to heal him. Because I am an Older And Stronger Halfa Upon Which He Relies.

:)

*instantly begins plotting*

Just? Imagine. Vlad is a FUCKIN LIAR. No one but him would even KNOW what was going on! He just? Rocks up one day, like? *falsely demure* "oh I couldn't POSSIBLY has any scotch, Lex! >:) I'm eating for Two~☆" and just? Deals the MAXIMUM amount of psychic damage he can.

Probably says it at their weekly, public, Veiled Threats Brunch.

It makes front page news. Luthor choked on his eggs. The paparazzi lost their SHIT. Vlad is doing the FULL Celebrity Mom Thing. The classes. The photo shoots. The Gucci sunglasses as he peruses high end strollers. All while HEAVILY suggesting that not only is "The Baby" Lex's.... but that he's going to withhold the child and deny Lex any access.

Danny isn't even aware. He's in a lovely lil medical coma. Dani is trying to find a good spot to plop down Amity. She just know Vlad is being... Vlad. Meh. He can handle it. Dan? He's not even IN the human realm and is not sure he wants to be.

But over in the LEAGUE? Everything's on fuckin FIRE.

Kon is losing his SHIT and Clark is thousand yard staring into the void. Kon's half brother is in the hands of a... Less Then Ideal... Meta that Batman is PRETTY sure is highly suspect. Might be a deliberate weapons experiment. Certainly is a hostage. And the DRAMA.

Lex has never been worse.

He might actually stab his...partner? Vlad. At the hospital. The SECOND the child is born. There are already long term kidnapping plans in the making. He's hiring lawyers. Getting VICIOUS. There have been talks with DEATHSTROKE. By BOTH OF THEM.

Clark wants to cry.

@hypewinter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @babbling-babull

[psychoticallykind]

Crime

"Crime" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 572 words

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

Regulus walking into his generally very peaceful living room, took three steps, and froze in place. "James?"

James startled at the sound of his voice, his eyes flying away from the letter he was holding.

The letter with the sickeningly familiar sigil of the 'Ancient and Most Noble House of Black'.

"Regulus, hey." James forced a smile. "Good morning."

"Is it?" Regulus asked, pointedly glancing at the letter James was still holding.

James shifted his weight. "It just came."

"I thought it couldn't," Regulus replied, just now spotting the owl that shouldn't be on the windowsill. "I thought - the wards stop those from coming. Sirius promised they did -"

"The wards stop them from sending anything to you," James interrupted Regulus before it could overwhelm him. "This - this one isn't for you."

Regulus blinked. "What?"

"Yeah," James bit his lip. "This one was addressed to me, actually."

No, no, no - they couldn't send things to James. They couldn't - "What did they say?" Regulus managed.

"Oh, not much," James replied. He shrugged. "Just the usual - I'm not worthy, I come from a line of blood traitors, by loving you I have committed the most heinous crime against all of wizardkind. You know - I've ended the world, and I'll surely suffer for it."

Regulus would have laughed if James didn't look a bit distressed. "They admitted that you love me?"

That would be a surprise, actually. Regulus didn't think his parents actually believed in love.

James hesitated. "I might have paraphrased that bit."

"That makes more sense." Regulus walked up, moving behind James and wrapping his boyfriend in a hug as he read over his shoulder. "Wow. They really hate you."

James laughed. "That was pretty clear, yeah."

Regulus hummed. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," James replied quickly.

A little too quickly.

Regulus scanned the letter again, reading aloud. "Though every child has a rebellious phase, I had genuinely hoped Regulus would not lower his standards to such an extent. And while I have found peace in knowing that it won't be long now before he tires of such blatant immaturity and incompetence, I could not in good moral standing allow you to continue to defile the Heir of the House of Black without being given the opportunity to understand why your pairing is, ultimately, distasteful to the point of possible disownment and a scourge on proper society." Regulus paused. "Am I the heir now? That's fun, we'll see if it lasts. I thought they might have finally given it to Cissa, she deserves it." He kissed the base of James's neck. "She's just as wrong as she's always been. Yes?"

"Mhm," James agreed.

Regulus waited, giving James a minute to sort through everything. "Questions?"

James set the letter down on the couch, turning to hug Regulus properly. "Dumb ones."

"Ask anyway," Regulus reminded him. "If you need to, it's fine."

James rocked them a little bit, and Regulus melted into the warmth and citrus scent of James's body wash.

"Can we stay home today?" James asked.

Regulus nodded. "Of course, mon soleil." He leaned back, studying James's expression. "I love you."

James gave him the first genuine smile of the day. "I love you, too."

Regulus kissed his cheek. "I know." He stepped back, keeping James's hand and flicking the fingers of his free hand at the parchment.

They watched it burn - along with the owl, who screeched in disappointment before flying away.

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 31: dressed up/in costume with everyone from hsr and genshin impact

warnings: dressed up/in costume, lingerie, maid costume, slight exhibitionism, cock/strap traditions, creampie, overstimulation, degrading, praise, hair pulling, oral, fingering, belly bulge, dacryphilia, brat taming, collaring, usage of toys, master kink, size/reverse size kink, tentacles, roleplay on some, slapping, squirting, bondage — shit is messy and a lot so enjoy it my fellow hornies. i sold my soul for this

notes: some characters has been left out due to uncertainty of their ages. i included characters that i think have been canonically proven as an adult and of age!! dainty chain divider belongs to @/cafekitsune

laid over the table, spread out with the maid dress in a mess, your sweet darling couldn’t handle it further as they come into your mouth again. shaking thighs coming around your head in a vice grip, slurred words and sobs of “p-please! mashter, can’t take more…! unghhh… guhcck♡︎” coming out of their mouth as they shake their head. sweet little maid of yours, can’t even hold their arousal back.

it was such a cute dress too! reaching their knees, frilly at the ends, soft and comfortable fabric. without a panties to cover their dripping arousal as it rolls down their thighs of course. too bad your maid was so incompetent and couldn’t hold themselves back.

it didn’t help that the vibrator inside them was buzzing away at the highest setting. sitting snuggly deep inside them as they try to fulfill their new role of being your maid. it didn’t last long when the vibrator hit their sensitive spot — that one spongy spot inside them that caused them to let out an uncharacteristic squeal, dropping the cup of coffee on the carpet as their hand goes down to push the maid dress’ skirt between their legs. legs shaking, thighs rubbing together, you knew that reaction.

reaching a hand out, you pull their chin up to force them to look at you. what a cute look on their face. all flush and red, biting their lips, eyes tearing up at their own oversensitivity. unable to hold themselves back any longer, your maid clutches at the edge of the table tightly as they come into the insides of the dress with a debouched moan.

that’s what led to this. being ate out as they lay spread on your table. gods, the vibrator was still deep inside them, flush against that one spongy spot. they really can’t handle more stimulation, their poor mind would shatter and their body would break! they already were with their hands flying everywhere, trying to grasp something to stabilize themselves as tears just continue to roll down their pretty red cheeks. jaw slack open in a silent scream as they come into your eagerly awaiting mouth again.

“mAS—! masterehhh…♡︎♡︎ p-please… no moowwhree!! can’t— ♡︎♡︎ can’t!” they cry out again, slurred gibberish continuing to fall out of their drool covered lips as they squirt into your mouth. not good. you really have to teach your poor maid a lessen on discipline.

wriothesley, capitano, jean, ganyu, diluc, childe, yun jin, kazuha, sucrose, aether, xiao, layla, kaveh, kirara, furina, thoma, albedo, baizhu, charlotte, ayato, navia, blade, dan heng, himeko, luocha, sushang, gepard, bronya rand, caelus, argenti, hanya, march, natasha, topaz, tingyun

“n-no no, please wait—! t-too much, i just aaahng—! just came♡︎♡︎!!” your lover let out a squeal, kicking their legs weakly against your hips, hands smacking against your shoulders to try and slow you down just a bit so they can get their mess of a mind back in place. the large bell attached to the front of their collar jingles at each movement, your sweet pet keening as they feel the familiar warmth of your cum being fucked deeper into their insides.

it was their fault to begin with. acting so high and mighty, being bratty and even downright refusing to acknowledge your presence. so, it would only be understandable to dress them up in their appropriate clothes according to their attitude and teach them a lesson right? by clothes you meant nothing except for the cute fake cat ears atop their head and the collar around their neck with a large bell attached to the front.

so what was their problem now? it was them who started this little game with acting high and mighty in the first place to see who would show themselves to be in charge of the relationship, as they put it.

“stupid kitty. i told you to keep your voice low, didn’t i?” you hiss in anger, stopping your thrust completely with your cock sitting snug inside their warm walls. crying about it being too much and yet going ahead and daring to whine in loss at the feeling of your movements stopping. what a demanding pet you had.

with a click of your teeth, you pull out a small ball gag from the nightstand at the side before putting the gag into their mouth and fastening the buckle. they tried to say something, probably something to deny your words or the muzzle, but you make no effort to let them continue their bratty behavior.

pulling out completely, you watch quietly as the large amount of cum you fucked inside their pretty hole comes gushing out. white, transparent colored fluid dripping out of their sensitive, puffy hole, dripping down onto the bed sheets as your lover shifts and squirms on the bed. they felt so exposed under your scrutinizing gaze.

with a light smack to their thigh that got them whining, you prop their legs open further as you watch the cum seep out of their hole. how fucking delicious. slowly easing your tip back in, your gaze shifts to their facial expression. red in the face and ears, drool and tears slipping down their face and onto the pillow. they looked so pathetic as their glossy eyes try to focus on you.

“quiet kitty. learn your lesson” you remind them before thrusting the rest of the strap inside. immediately, they throw their head back, toes curling as they scream into the ball gag. ah, they came from just that too.

jing yuan, sampo, kafka, fu xuan, silver wolf, dr ratio, seele, aventurine, black swan, serval, qingque, faruzan, heizou, wanderer, venti, kaeya, alhaitham, cyno, lisa, ayato, furina, hu tao, yelan, eula, lyney, xianyun, albedo, itto, kaveh, childe, dottore, pantalone

going out for a halloween party wasn’t exactly the most brightest idea, you realized. especially with your lover who — for some reason — decided to wear a fluffy skirt witch dress. accompanied by the iconic witch broom and a pointy tipped hat sitting atop their head. but there was a problem. your lover was feeling a bit mischievous today it seems as any moment of privacy or when the two of you meet eyes over the room and the blaring song, they would wink and slowly slip their skirt up until showing you that they were wearing a laced underwear.

at first, your reaction was like any other lovers’. flushing cheeks, looking around to make sure no one else saw and giving them a flustered smile accompanied by a thumbs up or so. until it got old real fast as they keep making sexual gestures. so, who’s to blame you when you finally had enough and drag your lover off to some random empty room of the place, lock the doors and shove your lover onto the bed, sexually frustrated and ready to fuck them stupid.

happy that their request was being accepted and their secret plans working, they tried to play the role of ‘damsel in distress’. moaning about how cruel you are for shoving them down, mean for tearing off their panties and how you were acting like a hungry wolf. to which you only rolled your eyes at and pushed a finger inside their already — not so surprisingly — lubed and spread open hole.

“shh, darling. there are other people in the room next door” you whisper, quietly chuckling as your lover only nods dumbly, mouth full of your fingers, suckling on them to keep their shrill moans quiet as your cock continues to split them open. too many rounds, too much pleasure and the cute ring of white around your strap was a nice reminder of how easily they got fucked dumb.

angling your hips, you thrust inside their still tight hole again, this time successfully hitting their sensitive spot. immediately, they twitched and kicked their legs before wrapping it around your waist, pushing your tip deeper inside to kiss that spongy muscle again and again as they cream around your cock once more.

jing yuan, tingyun, hanya, dan heng, dan heng il, argenti, asta, guinaifen, kafka, luka, march, sampo, serval, topaz, stelle, gallagher, yukong, acheron, dr. ratio, albedo, alhaitham, itto, beidou, dehya, eula, hu tao, kaeya, lisa, lyney, heizou, childe, scaramouche, tighnari, venti, yae miko, yanfei, yelan, sandrone, capitano

“a-anhh… you sure about this, darling?” your lover asks with stuttered breath, naked, back on the bed with their legs spread out as a few slimy tentacles slowly curl around their legs, starting from their ankles as they slowly and tentatively make their way up their bare skin. you hum comfortingly, their head on your lap as you squeeze their hand gently as a way of reminding them there’s nothing to be hesitant of.

recently, you went to the sex shop you visit to see what was new there. the shop owner — having already become acquainted with you and your lover due to your frequent visits — offered you a new “toy”. tentacles, in a small square box. they said something about it being a prototype and gave you a mini book about guides, how to use it, what and where the creature was made from etc etc. after a careful amount of research and preparation, you decided to buy it. and now here you were, having talked with your lover about the new “toy” you brought and wondering if they would be okay with trying it out with you.

of course, if anything were to go slightly bit wrong, you wouldn’t hesitate to take over and put the slimy thing back into its box.

“i’m sure it’ll be fine, love. after all, we read through the user guide enough times and even contacted the shop owner. now just relax” you comfort them, one of your hands running through their hair to soothe them. tilting their chin up, you lean down to place a soft kiss on their lips just as they let out a startled whine.

looking down, you could see that the tentacles were now gently prodding at their slicked hole. you had already prepared them beforehand just in case the prototype would be too harsh. seeming to have felt that they were loose, the tentacle slowly pushes itself in. more and more as the long, girthy thing disappears into their hole as your lover stutters of it feeling a bit odd.

“should i take it out then?” you ask, a hand over their belly where a cute little bulge was made due to the sheer size of the thing pushed inside. your lover only shakes their head, a drawn out moan following when you gently push on the bulge. gods, it was a big one.

“n-no… no need. it just feels… new and unfo—eeeck!!” their voice is cut off by a shriek when the tentacle starts to pump itself in and out, seemingly hitting their little bundle of nerves inside them. judging by how much your lover was thrashing their legs, trying to close them, you could guess how deep the tentacle was reaching.

“tsk tsk. darlin’ if you wanna feel good, you gotta keep your legs open, y’know?” you click your teeth, about to reach over before stopping. curious, you watch as the tentacle seemed to double or triple as two other emerge, pushing their legs apart. huh, there was no warning of the creature being able to duplicate itself.

taken aback by how relentless the creature was in fucking into their spongy spot, your lover keens. shaky hands going down to try and push them away before you pry their hands off softly. feeling betrayed, they let out a whine. turning to look at you with tears brimming in their eyes.

“[n-name]! th-they gcck! they’re b-bullying meeeehh♡︎♡︎ t-these aaanh gyuck!! things a-are bullying me♡︎♡︎” they sputter out, tripping over their words as fat globs of tears fall down their cheeks. not long after, their legs shake and twitch, back arching off of the bed so prettily as they squirt on the bedsheets. even then, the tentacle doesn’t stop. instead, it only seems to speed up its movements with renewed vigor as if wanting to make your lover squirt more.

“aaAAGH—! c-can’t!! [name] make it sto—aanh aangk♡︎♡︎ j-just came… s-sensitiiivvee♡︎” your lover drawls out, mind already starting to blank out as their hands tug on yours to ground themselves. you simply shush their loud mewls with a kiss, hearing the filthy squelching noise of the tentacle fucking your lover as you simply let the “toy” continue. this was a good purchase.

gallagher, caelus, dan heng, ruan mei, yingxing, asta, fu xuan, himeko, luka, natasha, welt, zhongli, yanfei, xiao, lumine, tighnari, childe, kokomi, nilou, neuvillette, mona, lynette, kuki shinobu, sara, keqing, ganyu, kaveh, diluc

lately, work has been becoming more and more exhausting. it was just simply too much. too much pressure, too much workload, too much stress. and your lover seemed to have noticed it. i mean, who wouldn’t? with the way you’re constantly slouched over, dragging your feet as you trip over your words. and those dark eyebags too.

so, they simply thought of a nice way to help you destress. to help you take your mind off of work for at least the night.

putting on one of the few lingeries they own — more specifically, the one you bought for them on one of their birthdays — they quietly make their way into the room that works as an office whenever you decide to work from home. scattered papers, broken pens and pencils lying about with you yourself looking like a corpse sitting amongst them, your lover felt their heart ache.

you were nearly falling asleep on your seat when a hand was gently placed on your shoulder, jumping slightly in your seat as you turn to look at the owner. ah, your darling. wearing a beautiful lingerie as they smile at you softly. but even their smile couldn’t hide the concern in their eyes.

“oh? what’s the occasion, my love? did i accidentally saw the date wrong and missed a special day?” you ask softly, rubbing your eyes as they shuffle to sit on your lap. hands running through your hair, smoothing them out as they pepper your face with soft kisses.

“hmm no. just wanted to surprise you” they hum soothingly, draping against you so that their chest was against yours. you could almost hear your synchronized heartbeats in the silence of the room.

“don’t you think it’s about time for you to get some break from work? and i don’t mean just a five minute break, i mean a whole vacation type of break” they mumble against the crown of your head, placing your hand over their chest and letting you squeeze them. they always knew you had love for simply just touching them. a healing factor, you once teased them when they asked you why you always smush yourself against their chest. they may or may not have beat you up for that.

“mmh.. i suppose so. once this cursed documents are finished, i will definitely take a vacation type of break” you hum softly, one hand on their, massaging the soft flesh as your other draws shapes on the skin of their hips. feeling the texture of their skin on your fingers was exactly the type of grounding sensation you needed. how could you ever stop being so grateful to be theirs.

feather light touches trail from their hips to their inner thighs, making them shudder in excitement as they roll their hips to indicate they wanted your fingers already. taking their gesture with a chuckle, you push the underwear of their lingerie aside. softly rolling the tips of your forefinger over their puckering hole, you give a little experimental push inside. only to find yourself surprised at how wet they were.

“aww have you been touching yourself, love? have i been so neglectful you opted to pleasuring yourself?” you grin mischievously, grinning at the soft pink on their cheeks. they only huff and lightly swat at your shoulder, warning you not to get too cocky. you laugh in response, finding their embarrassment endearing as you slip a finger inside. not too much after, second finger follows before a third is pushed in at how loose they were.

“aaaannh.. love your fingers. they’re so much better than my own” your lover sighs out softly, quiet moans slipping past their lips that they didn’t even bother to muffle as their hips roll over your fingers. attempting to ride your three fingers inside them as their moans and whimpers grow louder in volume. you could use a de-stressing action like this more in the future.

kafka, blade, dan feng, jingliu, yukong, natasha, ruan mei, hanya, gepard, al haitham, baizhu, beidou, ningguang, chevreuse, cyno, dehya, jean, kaeya, lisa, mona, rosaria, shenhe, thoma, lumine, dainsleif, yae miko, arlecchino, columbina

[lexsssu]

Light (Sung Jinwoo)

TAGS: Jinwoo/Wife!reader, a/b/o dynamics, yandere, possessive behavior, death threats, breeding, impregnation, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

‘E-Rank Hunter’ Sung Jinwoo, a title that followed him wherever he went.

Despite being a Hunter, his power was barely above an ordinary human aside from his slightly more durable constitution and slightly increased healing factor. 

So it’s only natural that he’d always get hurt. Hell, he’d even nearly gotten killed several times already too!

It’s not that Jinwoo wanted to be a Hunter in the first place, because aside from the danger, others also made fun of him for his weakness. Even the pay was surprisingly not that great.

Unfortunately, someone in his mid-20s who lacked any viable skills that could land him a normal, stable job could only work for the Hunter’s Association as one of their Hunters thanks to their medical aid. Had it not been for that, he wouldn’t have been able to afford the millions of won in medical bills he owed to the hospital that took care of his mother. 

It’s not even just his mother that he had to provide for, but there was also his little sister and…

“Look Yeonjin, it’s Papa!”

Worn out from another hard days’ work, E-Rank Hunter Sung Jinwoo felt all the fatigue in his body seemingly melt away into nothingness as the sight and scent of his wife and child soothed his weary soul.

“Baba!” Yeonjin babbled excitedly as his father made a beeline straight towards you both.

“Welcome home, honey.” You press a kiss to the corner of his lips, smiling up at him with those beautiful eyes he always finds himself lost in.

This is why even if he didn’t want to, he would still participate in these Association supervised raids.

No sacrifice is too great when it comes to his loved ones and regardless of how incompetent he was as a Hunter, Jinwoo will do everything in his power to ensure that they are cared and provided for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been with Sung Jinwoo ever since you were both just awkward teenagers in high school. When his mother succumbed to Eternal Slumber and left the two siblings to fend for themselves, instead of leaving you surprised Jinwoo and moved into their cozy little home and took it upon yourself to keep the house running.

While Jinwoo did his best to provide for the family’s needs, you would ensure that Jinah and the house was taken care of, this of course also included the man himself whenever he came home from a raid. You even managed to get a remote job that helped with the bills in spite of juggling that with your online college classes as well. 

You and Jinwoo had gone through so much together over the past decade so was it any surprise you’d end up married and with a child? 

Former friends and schoolmates might have tried to dissuade you time and time again to leave him, pitying you for spending your youth making ends meet and watching over your comatose mother-in-law, Jinah, and now your own baby.

But you don’t need their ‘advice’ when it all basically boiled down to having you leave your family because you ‘deserved better.’

They are already what’s best for you.

Why can’t they see that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ How are you and Sung Jinwoo? Sorry I couldn’t check up on you guys sooner. Life’s been pretty hectic on my end.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your baby shower before! I had an important appointment that I couldn’t bail out on back then. Why don’t we go out for coffee to catch up?”

“...way too long since we last got together! Our whole class is gonna have a reunion this weekend. Everyone will be stoked to see you and Sung Jinwoo there— ”

Beep.

You don’t have the chance to reply to the latest call you received from another ‘old friend’ when your husband pressed the ‘end’ button in one swift movement. Though his face looked impassive, his scent clearly revealed his agitation…not to mention the shadows that seemed to curl spread from the soles of his feet.

“First they tell you that I’m not good enough for you and that you should leave me, but now they’re all tripping over themselves just to get to me through you…” His lips stretched into a snarl, power rolling off of him in waves at their blatant shamelessness.

Jinwoo’s inner alpha snorted and growled, the mere thought of these impertinent swine daring to involve themselves with his mate even if to gain some sort of favor from him made him see red. 

How dare they?! He will rip and tear into their bodies and reap their souls to become his puppets if they so much as even approach you. Did they think he was bound by the rules of ordinary mortals? Foolish! 

The hunter’s alpha grinned diabolically, cackling from within the confines of his soul at thought of giving them their just desserts.  

“My big, strong alpha…Always willing to jump into the fray to provide for and protect us…How can I even think about choosing anyone else?” You crooned and purred at him, the soft sounds and your calming scent enveloping him and taming the shadows that once agitatedly tried to claw their way out of him to carry out his will. 

Burrowing into his arms, you embrace his waist and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as best as you could considering his height had also shot up recently. A few soothing kisses and kitten licks against the skin of his neck later, Jinwoo’s darkness ceased pouring out of him.

Because now he focused on wholeheartedly pouring every last drop of cum into your quivering pussy, thrusting weakly even as his fat knot plugged you up. Your lower belly bulged with the amount of cum he’d already fucked into you, but he still didn’t think it was enough.

At the rate he was going, he’s definitely gonna knock you up again.

Not that you were complaining. It was about time for Yeonjin to finally have a sibling to love.

[akutasoda]

my hated prince, let me rest

synopsis - you two bated each other. that was it, there was nothing more to your relationship...

includes - mydei

warnings - gn!reader, slight fluff, angst, mentions of injuries, maybe ooc as written before his release, wc - 1.1k

a/n: thanks to @starcharmed for proofreading ^^ the conversion will happen... slowly but surely... i have so many mydei drafts and i feel like half of them won't ever be completed-

it was pretty much common knowledge at this point that you and mydei were essentially lifelong rivals.

from your very first encounter with each other, it was mutually decided that the other person was detestable. even as children, the pair of you could be found constantly bickering when left alone - although most assumed it was just a childish rivalry and you two would grow out of it.

looking back, it was a bold assumption that never came true.

as throughout you're lives, you and mydei never grew out of that childish rivalry. if anything, it only amplified as you grew up alongside the other. the constant bickering and petty fights never ceased and now everyone abandoned all hope of them stopping, opting to assumed they would continue till the ends of time.

you were both very content to never even be in the other's presence ever again, which was a hopeless wish but a desperate one nonetheless. or when you were, which had to be forced most of the time, it was time spent in a very uncomfortable, hostile silence with sharp glares sent toward the other at all times.

from an outsider's view, it seemed more of a healthy rivalry in a way. those oblivious to the non-stop hostile quarrelling would assume that it was more friendly than anything, as if the two of you were friends who found it more amusing to fight with each other.

and maybe they knew correctly.

but from an insider's view, it was more assumed it was not as friendly as the others may view it.

your lives had been transformed into an endless battle of constantly being at each other's throat. there was no simple conversation between the two of you that didn't involve sly comments and vague threats.

the air when you two were around each other, which was nearly every day at this point, was constantly tense. cruel, snide words were always at the very tip of your tongue ready to be directed toward mydei at any minor inconvenience or simply if you felt like it.

and mydei was no different.

he spent most of his time trying to actively avoid you, and whenever he failed to do so he resorted to pretending you never existed. it was very childish but quite necessary in his opinion - alongside being enjoyable for him.

he delighted in watching how frustrated he could make you, especially when you got riled up due to his insistent incompetence paired with his irritating nature whenever you were around.

it was also amazing to watch how the usually intimidating, cunning prince could easily be reduced to a squabbling child simply due to the fact that you were with him, feeding that behaviour of his with your own.

he may have hated you, but he certainly didn't hate riling you up.

additionally, to nobody's surprise, your rivalry continued onto the battlefield as kremnos wasn't viewed as the city riven between chaos and war for nothing.

and it was no surprise that mydei was better than you when it came to that sort of stuff - something you would never admit to his face but it was definitely true. but even so, you still had your own place when it came to fighting on the battlefield.

that place however was always far from where mydei would be, which was something you both seemed to delight in. although, maybe pushing aside your rivalry and being nearer to mydei would've been a good thing.

some people had joked that mydei had the uncanny ability to always sense where you were, mainly due to how quickly he could be observed switching his personality to a much more hostile one before you even entered the vicinity, preparing to once again fight with you the very minute he saw you. and it must've been true.

otherwise there was no logical explanation for how mydei could constantly keep an eye on you, his gaze immediately being able to hone in on you no matter where you were or how far you were.

but there certainly wasn't a logical explanation to him for why his heart sank when he watched you get injured. or even for how he ran over toward you when he watched you drop to the ground, uncaring about his position in the field or the battle he was meant to be fighting.

his mind was racing, ears ringing and it felt as though everything else was blocked out from him, his sole focus was going to you.

but why should he care? he abhorred you.

so why should he even blink at the fact that you got injured? if this were any other time he would've claimed you deserved it, that you should've seen it coming or done something about it. but not this time.

as soon as he reached you, he crouched down next to your injured form.

mydei lifted you slowly, cradling the back of your head with his hand, using his other hand to bring your aching body into the protection of his own. he held you close, head buried into your shoulder.

you slowly, painfully, reached up to cup his face and push it away to look at him. you smiled.

mydei stared down at you with a grimace. how could you, off all people, be smiling at a time like this?

he hated it. that stupid smile of yours. it made his heart ache, filling his mind with thoughts of what could've been, eventually causing him to fight back tears that threatened to spill any time now.

“i hate you” he grimaced, words seething with an anger that was so familiar to him. he wanted to punch you or even yell at you - anything to get his anger out.

your smile only seemed to grow brighter, causing you to wince in pain, while once again you painfully extended your bloody and bruised arm to cup his face. pulling his head closer to you - although it was more him obliging and leaning down as you had no strength left in your body.

you kissed him. a brief moment of unspoken love. before you pulled away just as his tears hit your own cheek, your gaze showing nothing but sheer admiration with zero regrets.

“i know” you whispered, before closing your eyes.

mydei pulled your body impossibly closer to his as if he was hoping his own immortality would rub off on you and prevent the inevitable.

he hated you.

but he couldn't imagine his life without you.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[heechwe]

three men & a crib | 𝖕𝖘𝖍

୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 1.2k ୨୧ genre: fluff, comedy ୨୧ tags: established relationship, soontobedad!sunghoon, married!au, pregnant!reader. ୨୧ synopsis: Sunghoon is wasting time not building the furniture in the nursery, mainly the terrifyingly intricate crib his pregnant wife ordered. What else can he do besides call Jake and Jay to help him?

How did he end up in this situation? Sunghoon is staring down the cardboard box in his living room, armed with a handful of tools and an instruction manual that might as well have been written in an alien language.

“I can do it when I get home from the shower,” you told him two hours ago, pouting at the fact the crib still had yet to be constructed. The baby would be arriving in less than three months and there was still so much of the nursery that needed to be completed. The main piece being the place your child was meant to sleep.

Sunghoon shrugged off the idea. No way were you going to try building furniture when you should be focusing solely on relaxing. Your belly was too swollen at this point for Sunghoon to let you even carry in a heavy bag of groceries without assistance. What kind of husband would he be if he let you do manual labor in your condition?

“No, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead with reassurance. “I promise to finish it. Just focus on having fun today and when you get home it’ll all be done, you’ll see.”

With a sigh and a kiss to his lips, you were off with your mother to your baby shower. Heeseung’s wife Yunjin organized the entire day for you, and Sunghoon wouldn’t let something as simple as a piece of infant furniture get in the way of your good time.

But now, staring down the dismantled pieces of the crib, he’s starting to grow anxious at the thought of you coming home to his empty promises and utter disappointment. He reads over the first step of the instructions again, and the words practically bleed over and into each other on the page. Admittedly, Sunghoon was not well-versed in carpentry, but surely it shouldn’t be this hard to understand.

Whatever he has to do to figure it out, he won’t let you down. And he won’t look like an incompetent father because of some measly, complex instructions.

So, he does the next best thing he can: he calls in backup.

Jake and Jay sit next to Sunghoon on the living room floor, looking over the parts of the crib that they’ve agreed go together first and have to be constructed in the proper order. 

After forty-five minutes of assembly, the three men feel an acceptable amount of confidence they completed the crib.

Except for the fact there’s a random piece of wood sticking out in the center of the crib itself.

“I’m telling you the directions said that that was supposed to go there,” Jay insists, skimming the manual.

Sunghoon groans. “Tell me exactly Jay what the fuck that is supposed to do.” He emphasizes his argument by pointing directly at the block of wood in the middle of the crib.

“I don’t know, man, to keep the baby from moving?” Jay retorts.

“Okay, let’s just start over,” Jake says to both men, tired of their bickering already.

Just when the men think they’re getting somewhere, they read the next line of instructions and feel like idiots for putting this piece of wood with that screw.

“This might as well have been written in ancient Egyptian, man. Why did she have to buy the most annoying crib in existence?” Jay grumbles and flips through the manual again.

“She said it comes with a lot of safety features,” Sunghoon answers, taking apart the two pieces of wood that Jake put together initially. Sunghoon wishes he could go back in time and stop you from buying it in the first place. Of course he also wanted the best for your child, but did the damn bed need to come with so many bells and whistles for all of this hassle?

By the time Sunghoon dismantles the pieces and puts them back in an organized pile on the floor, Jake looks ready to give up and raid the fridge.

“We could just find the model online and order it assembled,” Jake suggests. A yawn leaves his lips, already fatigued at the minimal effort he put in.

“And say what to my wife?” Sunghoon asks with a scoff. “That I was too stupid to make it without help?”

Jay and Jake look at Sunghoon without a word, their stares saying enough.

“You know what I mean, assholes.” Sunghoon looks at the instructions over Jay’s shoulder again and grunts. “We are three strong and capable men. We can do this!”

Less than an hour later, Jake is on the manufacturer’s website. Thankfully, the model number was written in bold font on the front of the manual. And even better, crib assembly and one-day delivery is only an extra hundred dollars.

“I’ll name the next kid after you, man.” Sunghoon pats Jake on the back as the older one puts his card information into the order.

“Whatever. Just don’t expect me to not spill the beans if your wife asks me about this.”

Jay chuckles and helps Sunghoon put the pieces of the original crib back in the cardboard packaging.

Three hours later, two delivery guys come up the elevator with the crib to bring into Sunghoon’s apartment. It fits with the rest of the nursery, the color of the wood matching well with the decorations you had already put up for the baby’s arrival.

You walk into the apartment later in the day to find Sunghoon sitting at the couch waiting for you. You smile at him and immediately snuggle in close to his chest.

“How was the shower?” Sunghoon kisses the crown of your head as his hand runs across the center of your stomach. His warmth immediately calms you after the long day of greeting family and friends.

“Fun, but a lot. By the third hour I was over talking about breastfeeding.”

Sunghoon chuckles and kisses your cheek. Even now, after four years of marriage and a baby on the way, he still managed to make you feel like the same lovesick teenager you were when you first met. The feeling sank deep into your bones and made you even more sure that you picked the right person to spend forever with.

“Thank you for putting the crib together,” you say. You squeeze the hand that’s on your stomach with your own. “We appreciate you so much.”

Sunghoon smiles earnestly and kisses you on the lips. “And I appreciate you. None of this would be possible without you, you know.”

You grin. “Likewise.”

When you wake in the middle of the night later on, waddling to the nursery and admiring the quality of the crib, you chuckle quietly to yourself.

Sunghoon was completely unaware of how cute he looked in the Ring camera helping the delivery guys bring in the assembled crib. He also had no idea that you had watched from the comfort of Heeseung’s couch as the gentlemen, with Jake and Jay in tow, all shuffled into the apartment hours ago with the second crib.

Maybe the biggest lesson of parenthood was that sometimes it was better to work smarter and not harder. And regardless, Sunghoon would do anything to make sure you and your child were happy. What more could you ask for?

[zorosangell]

I love your stories!! Maybe a Zoro x princess!reader would be interesting? She ran away and became a pirate of the crew, but she is still very formal and polite while Zoro is... Zoro 😂😂

⛥ﾟ・。 knight

synopsis: as a princess, you constantly have a bounty on your head, which means you are almost always under attack whenever the crew docks on an island. so, after zoro saves you from being kidnapped again, you both have a heart to heart... which ends in a little confession.

cw: fluffy fluff, comfort, reader talks very proper, reader's a little dense, zoro's a little emotionally constipated

"Get the princess!" the leader of the thugs shouted, swords drawn as the huge gang chased after you.

Hastily, Zoro attempted to cut a nearby corner, teetering to the side a little bit before he stabilized and continued to sprint down the street.

"What the hell were you thinking, huh?!" he panted, brows furrowed at he glanced at you, who was thrown over his shoulder. "I leave you alone for two seconds! And somehow you find a way to grab the attention of every damn criminal in town!"

"I was thirsty!" you exclaimed, defensively. "I thought I was going into a bar!"

"It was obviously a bounty hunter's nest!" he fired back.

"How was I supposed to know that?!"

"It was called the Killshot! And had a sign hanging outside with a picture of a gun!"

"I thought it was just a colorful theme!"

Zoro groaned, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he cursed whatever god that allowed this to happen yet again.

One of these days, he was gonna pretend he didn't see anything.

You were a princess, plain and simple, heir to the throne of some far off kingdom in the New World.

Ever since you were a little girl, you'd longed for adventure, not wanting your world to be confined to the walls of your castle, or the borders of your kingdom.

So, you promised yourself that the moment you turned eighteen, you'd run away.

And that's exactly what you did.

Though, in hindsight, it was probably not the best decision, as you had absolutely no idea how the outside world worked.

Still, somehow by fate or by fortune, your clueless self had managed to make it all the way to Loguetown, where the crew saved you from a few assassins.

Thus, you became the Strawhat's resident princess and diplomat.

And Zoro's resident pain in the ass.

Whenever the crew docked on a new island, you always insisted on exploring it yourself, excited to see the new sights and sounds.

And, like clockwork, you always found some way to call unwanted attention to yourself, the swordsman always finding himself in close proximity.

He had half the mind to think you did it on purpose.

Brows furrowed, his feet picked up speed, muttering intelligible things to himself.

'Princess be damned... no woman's worth this much trouble...'

Out the corner of his eye, Zoro peeped an alley not too far away, quickly running to duck inside it.

Dropping you to your feet, his strong hands grabbed your shoulders, yanking you into the shadows and covering your mouth as you let out a tiny yelp, eyes widening.

'Brute!'

You'd never been handled with such lack of care...

Back home, you were referred to as the Crowned Jewel of the Kingdom, known far and wide for your beauty and kindness.

Many often sang your praises, sending you buckets upon buckets of fan mail and writing songs about the prosperity your family had brought to the kingdom.

And the few that actually got to touch you did so with the utmost care, often reverently.

Meanwhile... this man talked to you as if you were an incompetent child, and tossed you around as if you were some sort of rag-doll.

Safe to say, it was quite the culture shock.

As the large group of men passed, Zoro tightened his grip on you, watching closely they examined the shops and stalls outside—some of them having split up to search quicker.

"Coulda sworn they were right here..." one of them grumbled under his breath, brows furrowed.

The dark-haired man paused, giving the space one more once over before turning to the others, sheathing his sword with an annoyed sigh.

"Looks like we lost 'em. Let's circle back to where we found 'em and see if that redhead knows anything."

Your eyes widened, knowing exactly who he was talking about.

"Nami!" you whimpered, forcing Zoro's calloused hand to press harder into your face to muffle the noise.

"Quiet," his deep, rough voice ordered, tone leaving no room for argument.

Suspicious, the man glanced in your direction, narrowing his eyes at the darkness as he looked directly at you—though he didn't know it.

Your heart stopped, your entire body freezing up as both you and Zoro stayed as still as statues, pressing firmer against the wall of the alley to avoid being revealed as he left.

And once he was completely one, you both let out a sigh of relief, your shoulders dropping as the tension finally oozed out your back.

"Are you stupid or something?" Zoro spat, curtly, brows furrowed. "You could've gotten us both caught!"

"I already expressed my apologies! It was not on purpose!" you countered, throwing your hands up in the air. "I simply wanted something to drink, but then those thugs just grabbed me! And did so without asking!"

Zoro let out another sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he hung his head.

You couldn't be serious...

"They're bounty hunters, (y/n)... they're not gonna ask permission to kidnap you."

"I'm afraid I just learned that firsthand," you huffed, a small pout gracing your lips and you leaned against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest. "And after I was so generous... I even offered to negotiate the terms over lunch."

With a raised brow, Zoro leaned against the wall with you, confused.

"Terms?"

"A closed contract between me and all affiliates of the Killshot gang that would have guaranteed my continued residency with the Strawhat crew in exchange for a sum total of five-hundred million berries, paid monthly or in advance, depending on their preference."

The swordsman nearly choked on the air he was taking in, floored by the number you said so casually.

"Five-hundred million?!"

You nodded, plainly, confused by his surprise.

"Money is no object for my family. Especially pertaining to my safety," you shrugged. "I extend that offer to my friends, as well. Back at the auction house on Sabaody, I would have happily bought Camie to save her... but Sir Raleigh had already beat me to the punch."

Slowly, a small smile crept onto the swordsman's face, the rigidness in his stance slowly morphing into one more relaxed.

'Well, I'll be damned...'

It was moments like these that he enjoyed, as he was actually offered a glimpse at your true self.

The woman that an entire kingdom absolutely adored.

Princess (y/n).

Sure, you were hard-headed at times, and completely clueless when it came to social interactions outside of high society.

But you had heart, and generosity that quite literally knew no bounds.

Just... maybe some self defense lessons were needed.

"I gotta teach you some hand to hand if you're gonna keep goin' on these little expeditions," he sighed, clearing his throat as he glanced down at the ground.

"Combat?" you scrunched your nose. "What is the point of that when I have you?"

The gears in his head came to a screeching halt, his head snapping over to you so fast, you'd think he'd have whiplash.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You are a swordsman, are you not?" you raised a brow.

"Yes..."

"And you follow me around, yes?"

"I don't follow you around!"

The man flushed, face burning at your plainness.

"You are always there when I am in trouble."

"Yeah... well... that's 'cause I have shit luck..."

"But you care about me, right?"

Zoro froze, throat clamming up.

He had never been presented with questions like these before, and they were forcing him to think.

To read into why exactly he was always there whenever you called for help.

You were always within arms reach of him, the two of you seeming to just naturally float around each other, even as you did your daily routines.

And although you were far from his responsibility, Zoro couldn't understand why he felt the need to worry so much.

He knew million times over that the crew was capable of protecting you, and that if anything were to happen, Luffy or Sanji could more than adequately swoop in to your rescue.

But for some reason, reminding himself of that fact didn't subdue the concern that spiked in his chest when you left his line of sight, or the faint pang of panic in his breath.

'Dammit...'

Too many questions.

"I... yes," he answered, awkwardly.

Instantly, a warm smile broke out on your face, melting the swordsman's heart into a puddle on the floor.

"Then, that makes you my sworn sword!" you beamed, cheekily.

"Your sworn... what?"

"My sworn sword. My knight. My champion," you elaborated. "You stand by my side throughout my travels and keep me under your protection."

"I do WHAT?!"

"Is your hearing all right? You seem to be having a hard time processing what I am saying..."

"No, no... it's... it's not that..."

An uncomfortable silence suddenly settled over you both, the swordsman practically praying that the gang would come back so he could run you both back to the ship and escape the atmosphere.

You, on the other hand, had been feeling quite the opposite, wanting things to be settled right here and now.

Zoro had been your "crush"—lovingly dubbed by Nami—for over two years, and was the only person in the world that was consistently there for you, always rushing to your rescue without fail.

Despite his prickly exterior, and his sharp words, you could tell he was a kind, loyal, and compassionate man.

He just needed a little push.

Just then, the sound of running footsteps began to draw nearer to the mouth of the alley, your eyes shooting wide at the sound.

"Someone is coming!" you whispered, quickly turning to him .

Eyes doe wide, and breath quickened, you settled on something you'd read in a book once, hoping it would conceal your faces.

What possessed you to do it, you had no idea.

Pulling the man in by his robe, you smashed your lips into his, his eye shooting as wide as a saucer.

Everything had gone from zero to a hundred so fast.

Left was up.

Down was right.

But, in that moment, everything felt oddly right.

So, for the first time in his life, he caved, allowing his eye to flutter shut and his body to ease into the kiss.

Sliding your hands up, one of them cupped his face, while the other threw your arm around his neck, keeping him in place as he snaked his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss was electric, and, while very uncoordinated and eager, felt like liquid fire was coursing through your veins, pushing you forward.

Smoothly, the two of you shifted, Zoro pushing you up against the wall and tilting his head in order to get a better angle, deepening the kiss even further.

His hands gripped you even tighter, suddenly fearful he would float away if you didn't keep him grounded.

With your touch burning his skin and your scent flooding his nostrils, he felt like he was higher than the clouds, like this was heaven on earth.

Your lips were so damn soft...

Hell, you were so damn soft...

You washed over him like a wave of calm, the rhythm of the kiss lulling his worry-filled mind until the only thing he could think about was why the hell he didn't do this sooner.

"Aw, jeez! This is what you guys were doing all this time?!" Luffy exclaimed from the mouth of the alley, completely ruining the moment.

'Thats why...'

The two of you quickly threw yourselves off each other, faces burning with embarrassment as you looked in opposite directions.

"At least do that inside. You're gonna catch somethin' out here..." he shrugged, turning to walk away.

Your eyes shot wide, and you snapped your head over to the boy.

"Wait, Luffy, what did you think we were—?" "Don't wanna talk about it!"

"You idiot, we weren't—!" "M'not listening!"

You turned to the swordsman, brow raised in confusion.

"What is he talking about?"

Zoro's eye widened, and it finally donned on him that you hadn't been taught about... the birds and the bees.

'Christ...'

"I'll tell you another time," he sighed, talking your hand and leading you toward the exit of the alley. "Let's go back to the ship."

"Yes, of course!" you playfully bellowed. "Lead the way, knight!"

"I'm not your knight!"

"Whatever you say... knight..."

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.7  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.9????

p.8

AN: small toji x you in this one. isn't smutty just small fluffy. some comfort. well pick up with our normal story soon. I was gonna write in the next part but I needed to make this small enough to chew. I keep debating whether I want this to end quickly, or get drawn out. leaning towards drawn out just for my peace of mind but...I've got other shit I wanna write too. And I'm not entirely sure if it'll be worth it haha.

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, violence, lashings, blood, mental breakdowns, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside your moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

Big Dick Energy

The house was quieter than you’d expected, the kind of silence that wrapped itself around you and refused to let go.

You busied yourself with routines—cooking meals, tidying up, bingeing your favorite TV shows—but none of it could fill the hollow ache that lingered. Every task felt aimless, every distraction fleeting.

Toji dropped by occasionally, his teasing remarks and sharp smirks offering brief diversions, but even he couldn’t fill the void that seemed to stretch through every corner of the house.

Too often, your gaze would wander to Megumi’s closed door, only to be met with the same cold, unyielding stillness. You hadn’t expected to miss his presence this much, not after the way he’d ignored you in those last three months.

Yet now, with him gone, his absence cut deeper than you cared to admit.

His words lingered in your mind, a confession boarding on something less than platonic. You could only hope it wouldn’t be so painfully awkward when he returned next summer.

But more than that, a creeping fear had begun to take root.

He was likely throwing himself into missions now, facing dangers you didn’t even want to imagine. The thought of him out there, the prospect of death always a step away, gnawed at you. You tried desperately not to let it get to you.

So you cleaned.

You ate.

You slept.

And then you did it all again the next day.

And the next.

And the next...

Until the day came when you couldn’t put it off any longer. You had to visit your former clan house.

The walk through the grand gates and pristine courtyards felt suffocating, each step heavy with memories you’d tried desperately to leave behind. You were led, wordlessly, to one of the estate’s least popular tea rooms, the chill in the air colder than you remembered. Megumi's birthday would be coming up again, soon.

In the tea room, waiting was the clan head in all his big dicked glory, draped in his full traditional garb. The look was doing little to soften the venom in his eyes. Two servants lingered just outside the room, their presence silent but always watching. Listening.

The man across from you wasn’t terrifying because of his cursed energy—it wasn’t the strongest.

What made him so off-putting were the memories you had attached with him, the sheer weight of the past pressing down on your chest. His disdain for you was palpable, radiating off him like heat as he launched into his usual tirade.

“Incompetent,” he spat, his voice cold and very much arrogant, each word sharper than the last. “The information you've been bringing is worthless. A disgrace. Is that the best you can do? I thought that maybe, even someone like you would have some shred of capability.”

The gardens outside the shoji doors were undeniably beautiful—a cruel contrast to the scene inside. Birds chirped softly, butterflies flitted through the air, the scent of flowers wafting in—CRACK.

A sharp, stinging slap across your cheek snapped you out of your thoughts. Your head whipped to the side from the force, and pain bloomed across your skin like fire.

You froze for a moment, your hand instinctively rising to your cheek as you bit back the sting of humiliation. You vaguely remember how he always used to do shit like this. The taste of iron lingered on your tongue, but you didn’t dare make a sound.

Schooling your expression quickly, you forced yourself to meet his piercing gaze, his eyes as cold and unyielding as ever. This son of a—

“Don’t get distracted now,” he hissed, his tone venomous, his hand still hovering near you as though daring you to flinch. Always ready for a second one. “Is that really all you’ve got? You really are a useless girl. Why we ever kept you in the clan, it'll never know. ”

He hadn't even needed to slap you again. Each word landed like another blow, slicing through the fragile composure you clung to. He leaned forward slightly, his shadow looming over you, his anger simmering just below the surface.

“Do I need to remind you what happens when you fail this family?” his voice dropping into a quieter, almost mocking calm that sent a chill down your spine. His tone was unmistakable. You always were able to tell when he was about to do something drastic.

The gardens outside remained serene, as though mocking your situation. You swallowed hard, the bitterness in your throat impossible to ignore, and shook your head. No. You don't need a reminder. You remember well.

The man across the table hadn’t been happy, and you knew without a doubt that punishment was inevitable. Being a Fushiguro now meant nothing here. You still very much belonged to this family.

His piercing, cold eyes drilled into you, his disdain a tangible weight pressing in on you. He looked ready to throttle you. Your head lowered down, as you fix your gaze on a spot on the table. And just as you’d been taught, you thought of things that might be useful for him. The sting of his slap lingered on your cheek, the imprint of his hand no doubt burning into your skin.

You already knew this visit would be a bad one.

“His son went off to school,” you started, your voice steady despite the tremble building. “He’s now enrolled at Jujutsu Tech—”

“Yes, we already know that,” he interrupted coldly, waving his hand dismissively. “No thanks to you. And what of Toji Fushiguro? Have you seen any...suspicious activity recently?”

You didn’t hesitate, desperate to give him what he wanted, even if it was crumbs. “He’s been out of the house for four days this week.”

“That the best you can do?” His eyes narrowed as he stared you down. Obviously, to him, this was no where near enough.

He stood slowly, his movements deliberate, trailing around the table, his presence loomed heavier with every step until he was behind you. Your eyes don't dare follow him. Your breath hitched as you felt his hand settle on the back of your neck, the weight of it cold and commanding.

You stiffened, your body slightly trembling under his grip as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Useless,” he spat, his fingers tightening just slightly. “How many times do I have to remind you what happens when you waste my time?”

The walls seemed to close in, the silence suffocating as the air around you grew heavier. You clenched your fists in your lap, willing yourself not to react. Not to cry. Not to give him the satisfaction.

The grip on your neck tightened painfully, and before you could brace yourself, he yanked you upright with a brutal force that left you stumbling.

Your feet, barely catching your balance as he dragged you toward the courtyard. His actions—ruthless, uncaring, as though you were nothing more than a disobedient dog being hauled to its kennel.

No one dared to intervene. They never had before. The well-kept greenery, the polished stone pathways, the fragrant blossoms swaying in the breeze. Serene, if it weren't for the hand clutched around your throat.

"Five lashes," he barked to the nearby servants, his voice sharp and devoid of hesitation. They hesitated only for a fraction of a second before scrambling into motion, their eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding yours. Just how you were taught.

Your stomach twisted violently. Five.

It wasn’t the worst you’d endured, but it was more than enough to leave a lasting mark. Harsher than usual, and you didn’t have to wonder why. Your reports had been sparse, vague, deliberately lacking the substance they demanded. A small, quiet rebellion on your part. And this was the price.

You barely had time to brace yourself before you were hauled forward and thrown to the pristine stone courtyard. The sharp scent of iron reached your nose, and it was only then that you realized your palms were scraped raw, streaks of crimson painting the stone beneath you.

Up close, the stone wasn’t as flawless as you thought—tiny imperfections, cracks, and now smears of your blood, stark and vivid against the pale surface. 

The bile in your throat was hard to swallow. Your body knew what was coming, as it trembled. You tried to steady yourself, tried to push back the rising tide of panic.

They’d brought a wooden stick, one you knew all too well—thin, long, and biting.

Another servant stepped forward, pulling at the back of your kimono with practiced ease, baring your skin to the biting air. How many times have they ran through this same routine?

You shivered violently, clutching the front of your garment in a futile attempt to preserve some shred of modesty.

"You should know better than to bring me shit like that." he spat, his voice heavy with disdain. His measured footsteps echoed behind you, circling like a predator toying with its prey. "Sparse, irrelevant, unusable. Is this the standard you think is acceptable? Do you enjoy putting this family to shame?"

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. You knew what was coming. And words would only make it worse. He wasn’t looking for excuses. Silence was safer. Silence was survival.

His pacing stopped abruptly, his shadow looming behind you. "You’ve grown rebellious," he continued. "Perhaps your time away from the clan house has done more harm than good."

Your heart raced, dread pooling in your stomach. You pleaded silently, begging him not to order the dissolution of your marriage. The only positive outcome from this would be his decision to let you stay.

"It’s a shame, really," he mused, almost lazily, "We need to keep you there for now. But let this serve as a warning."

The first lash came without warning, the whip cutting through the air with a sharp crack before it struck your back.

The pain was blinding, immediate, forcing a gasp from your lips despite your best efforts to stay silent. The second followed quickly, and your body jerked against the force, the rough stone scraping your knees further.

By the third, your breathing was shallow, labored, your skin burning with a fire that seeped into your bones. You could feel the blood pooling beneath your clothes, soaking into the fabric and staining the once-pristine courtyard. If there had been more lashes, perhaps the pain would have numbed, but there was no such mercy.

The world around you felt distant, your focus narrowing to the searing pain and the sound of his voice. He was talking but you didn't catch all of it. Each strike felt personal, a reminder of your place, your failure, your rebellion. 

You bit down hard, swallowing the sound threatening to escape as the fourth lash tore across your back, and your vision blurred as you bit down hard on your lip to stifle a cry. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, grounding you in the moment as the final strike landed with brutal precision.

“You should be grateful I’m not ordering more,” he said, his voice deceivingly calm. “Consider this mercy.”

Mercy. The word felt hollow, meaningless, as you pressed your forehead against the cool stone, your breaths shallow and labored. This wasn’t mercy. This was power trip. A reminder of the leash around your neck that he had no intention of loosening.

When it was over, the courtyard fell silent, save for your ragged breathing. You remained on the ground, trembling, trying to summon the strength to move past the pain and the humiliation that burned hotter than the lashes on your back.

"Clean her up," he said dismissively, his voice devoid of any human emotion. Without so much as a glance in your direction, he turned and strode away, his fancy pants robes swishing behind him with an air of finality.

To him, you were nothing more than an inconvenience—a speck of dirt sullying the pristine courtyard.

You stayed motionless, your breathing labored, waiting for the echo of his footsteps to fade and for his looming shadow to vanish from sight.

The gardens outside remained serene. Cicadas buzzing, birds chirping cheerfully, the flowers swayed in the gentle cooler breeze, and the sweet, heady scent of blooms filled the air. Damn, September was your favorite time of year.

But the blood staining the immaculate stones beneath you was a fucking wake up call—reminding you of just what it cost to defy him, even in the smallest of ways.

Thankfully, your clan visits were few and far between. The trip home that day had been nothing short of brutal. Your clan head’s disregard for how you might explain the aftermath to your husband lingered in your mind like a bitter aftertaste.

Toji hadn’t been surprised when you walked through the door, battered and silent. He took one look at you and seemed to understand everything without a word. Never pressing for details. Without hesitation, he led you to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit on his way. The usual Toji—sharp-tongued and teasing—was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was quiet. Unusually quiet. Unusually helpful.

His hands steady but his expression unreadable. There was no lecture, no pity, just a resigned understanding that somehow made the whole ordeal feel even worse.

Your chest tightened, the weight of everything pressing down until the words broke free in a cracked whisper. "Toji, I can’t do this anymore."

He froze mid-motion, the damp cloth in his hand still hovering near a particularly nasty gash on your back. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. The smirk that so often danced on his lips was conspicuously absent, replaced by a hard, distant look as his eyes flicked to meet yours in the mirror.

He watched you for a long moment, his gaze colder than you’d expected, and then let out a small, almost weary sigh. "I know, doll," he said, his voice low and measured. "I know."

Your eyes misted as his words washed over you, the weight of his acknowledgment settling deep in your chest. It wasn’t just the words themselves—it was the way he said them, low and measured, carrying an understanding that made your heart ache even more. You hadn’t realized how much you needed someone to say those words, to acknowledge the heaviness you carried.

His hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, until his fingers ruffled your hair in a rare, soothing gesture. Toji wasn’t one for overt displays of comfort. This was as close as he got. And yet, the tenderness in that small act unraveled something inside you. The tears that had been threatening finally spilled over, silent but unrelenting.

You lowered your head, letting his hand linger, unsure if you wanted to cry harder or lean into the comfort. He didn’t say anything, didn’t pull away. Toji wasn’t the type to offer empty platitudes or promises he couldn’t keep, but his presence was steady and grounding.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice quieter now, softer. "You don’t have to say anything, doll. Just…take a minute."

You nodded, barely able to find your voice. "I just…" You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I’m tired of fighting. Of pretending it doesn’t hurt."

His hand slid down from your hair to rest on your shoulder, his grip firm but not overbearing. "I know," he said again, his tone carrying a strange mixture of understanding and regret. "You’ve been through more than most. But you don’t have to keep doing it alone. Youve got me here. And Megumi." A hollow promise, but still...

"Megumi hates me right now, Toji. He's been avoiding me for weeks. And youll come to hate me too."

His hand stayed firm on your shoulder, a steadying weight as his eyes flickered with something unspoken—frustration, understanding, maybe even guilt.

"Megumi doesn’t hate you," he said after a moment, his voice low and deliberate, as though he were willing you to believe it. "He’s a kid, doll. He’s got a lot going on in that head of his, more than he lets on. But hate? Nah. That’s not it."

You shook your head, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "He’s been avoiding me for weeks, Toji. Barely looks at me, barely talks to me. And the way he left—" Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard. Your insecurity getting the best of you. "It’s like he couldn’t get away fast enough. I—I don’t know what I did wrong. I don’t even know where we stand anymore."

Toji let out a slow breath, his hand dropping away as he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. His dark eyes held yours, unflinching. "Megumi’s not avoiding you because he hates you," he said, his tone sharper now, cutting through the self-doubt you’d been drowning in. "He’s avoiding you because he’s figuring his own shit out. And yeah, maybe he doesn’t know how to handle it, but that’s on him. Not you."

You turned away, staring at your reflection in the mirror, your own expression a mixture of pain and uncertainty. Pathetic.

"What if I make everything worse, Toji?" you whispered, your voice trembling. "What if he’s right to pull away? What if you’re right to pull away? You’ll come to hate me too—both of you. My clan…they’ll kill me at this rate. I can’t—I don’t want to do this anymore."

The admission hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You felt the tears welling up again, blurring the already fragile image of yourself in the mirror. Then Toji moved. He didn’t say anything—he just turned you around, his large hands firm but gentle on your shoulders, and pulled you into him. Avoiding your wounds so carefully.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, his warmth a surprising comfort. "I’ve got you," he murmured into your hair, his voice low and steady. "I’ve got you, doll. Let it out."

And you did. The first sob broke free, sharp and uncontrollable, quickly followed by another, and another. You clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you upright, your fingers curling into his shirt as you cried. The tears came in waves, each one more overwhelming than the last, the dam breaking under the weight of everything you’d been holding back.

Time became meaningless as you cried. It could have been minutes or hours. You didn’t know. All you knew was that you couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold back the flood of emotions spilling out of you.

And Toji stayed silent. Holding onto you gently as you cried. His arms stayed carefully positioned, mindful of the deep wounds covering your back.

Thank God you only had to go to the clan house every so often.

p.1

p.9

come home

AN: To be continued soon. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! and please give a follow, and reblog if you want to stay updated - or follow along on my ao3

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come home

[merbear25]

Heeeeeyyyy

So I discovered this blog through that breeding kink request with Katakuri, Crocodile and Mihawk and may I request the aftermath? Like I want pregnancy and baby stuff, I want the domestic bliss. Please

Oh, how cool that you found me through that! Thanks for sending in a request. I hope you enjoy this just as much as the other one.💜💜

CW: SFW, fem!reader, pregnancy and childbirth mentioned, fluff, a touch of angst, defined relationship 

His two loves (Katakuri, Crocodile, Mihawk)

Katakuri: Waking up in the middle of the night was becoming a common occurrence. Dreams that bordered on nightmares flooded his mind, refusing to allow him any peace as your due date approached. The worries of his family interfering, harming the hair on your or your precious child’s head were more often than not at the forefront. However, the dread of his potential incompetence at being the father he needed to be was that night’s perpetrator. 

Snippets of the not so distant future played in his mind, some of which came with a tinge of anxiety. Wrapped up in his arms, sleeping the early dawn away, you were glowing even in your sleep. With the remnants of the nightmare still fresh in his mind, he held you closer worrying that at any moment you’d wake up and make his greatest fear a reality. But, you didn’t and you wouldn’t. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t. 

You stirred in his embrace. The murmurs of discomfort tugged on his heartstrings. His long fingers stroked the side of your face, to which your huffs silenced and returned to gentle hums of slumber. The morning was creeping on the horizon, and despite being wide awake, he chose to stay next to you, not wanting to miss a moment.

The sun casted and set in the sky with the cycle of the days, each one pressed with preparations for the bundle you would soon be welcoming into the world. The room had already been completed due to his eagerness to have it be perfect in every way, so now the waiting game needed to be played.

He was sure to remain nearby, especially in your third trimester. Adamant in keeping you happy, he couldn’t deny you even the slightest of requests: rubbing your feet, adjusting your pillow, fetching you whatever would satisfy that week’s craving. The favors he did for you were repaid with a thank you and a peck on the cheek. How could they not be when he was doing everything in his power to keep you happy?

When the time came to finally meet your child, the world that had been swirling with nerves and fear began shifting. There was no more room for them anymore—replaced with the jittery elation of becoming a new father, new parents.

Long hours that felt as if there would be no end, until the cries of your little baby, your precious girl, put the grueling wait to a halt. She was placed on your chest, shivering and whimpering in the new world she found herself in. Your exhaustion could never overshadow the joy you shared in that moment. You cooed at her, whispers of affection that she couldn’t yet understand, so your tone carried the pure love you felt to her.

Hair clinging to your forehead with sweat, your face flushed from the physical toll you’d been put through, and the daze you were in from the whirlwind of emotions: even though you’d disagree, he saw you as a vision of beauty. As he placed his lips against your temple, a shaky sigh left you. The smile you held began quivering the longer you looked down at your child.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Your voice cracked with emotion.

Hearing your words tremble shattered any anxiety that’d been harboring within him. He adored you, there was no denying that, and the child you just gave him only strengthened his love. The two loves of his life; neither of you would have the misfortune that plagued him growing up. He’d act as a shield if it came down to it. The burdens that came with being tied to his family, to his mother, to him: he vowed not to let them shatter this image of perfection.

He sat down beside you and wrapped you in his arms as carefully as he could, wanting to hold both of his beautiful girls at the same time.

Crocodile: Longer work hours that pushed into the late evenings were a distraction for the inevitable. Your due date was creeping up on him, enticing a nervous bug that hadn’t bitten him in a long time. Although you understood the reason for his absence, that didn’t stop the bed from feeling cold and rather lonely.

You nudged his office door open, peeking behind the wood to get a look at him working diligently behind the desk. He puffed at his cigar, allowing the thick smoke to cloud his workspace. When you inched closer, his eyes flickered to you. Your silhouette casted a shadow across the floor as you stepped in front of the fireplace. Putting out his cigar, he then waved his hand to clear the gray surrounding him.

“There aren’t many more nights you’ll be able to get a good night’s rest. You should take advantage of that.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep well the last few months because of the size of me,” you laughed in an airy, light-hearted way that never failed to fall on his ears just right. “And you know you’re in the same position as me. You’ll be up with the baby too, won’t you?” You couldn’t hide the slight tinge of sadness in your question. He was clearly having a difficult time adjusting to this change on an emotional level, even though he desperately wished that wasn’t the case.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.” His eyes soaked in the sight of you: you were in your ninth month, hair tousled from sleep that couldn’t find you, and held a look of concern on your face. Looking back down at his paperwork, a glimmer of self-reflection reached him. He sighed before getting up from his office chair. “I suppose it’s time for me to turn in.” A gentle place of his hand on the small of your back led you to retire with him.

The howling wind made the windows rattle, making you shudder along with them. A slight pull of your body against his ceased them, though. His large frame offered you protection even over the most trivial things like the sounds at night. Nuzzling his face against the top of your head, his body soon found that fragment of peace it’d been after the past few months. The gentle hums of your breaths mingling, your soft skin against his, and your round belly carrying the most precious thing imaginable: there was a part of him that didn’t want these quiet moments to end. 

Having kept himself preoccupied with work to avoid the reality of fatherhood was now weighing on him. He cared about you, and it was true that he wanted this child. However, his role as the primary provider, the one who you and your child depended on for everything, had him going above and beyond to ensure both of your safety. Every deal, contract, employee, and everyone who came within spitting distance had to be dealt with, because if they weren’t and anything happened to either of you, he would only have himself to blame.

Time ticked forward to the delivery room when you performed a miracle, giving him a baby boy who was almost too perfect to touch. But, he wanted to hold him, both of you, and never let go. Holding him in his arms felt surreal; those soft yawns and grumbles were sounds he didn’t know he could adore so much. While you watched him cradling your bundle of everything that was right with your relationship, the hours of labor finally caught up with you.

As you drifted off to sleep, he kept his full attention on your little boy. His eyes memorized each detail, hoping that he wouldn’t lose such precious moments to time. Every vow he made would be kept, that much was certain. He would do everything in his power to make even the impossible possible.

Mihawk: As you lounged in the shade while reading your book, he caught himself glancing over at you more and more often. The swings of his swords weren’t striking the targets head-on anymore, instead merely nicking the sides in a sad attempt at training. It couldn’t be helped, though. You were stunning. The roundness of your belly and your hand resting on top of it, perhaps feeling the baby kick as you lost yourself in your book, was too much of a distraction.

He stood facing you for a good minute, his eyes never wavering from his typical stare. Those gentle breaths pairing with the rise and fall of your chest were simply too much for him to handle. His steps carried through the tall grass back to the castle.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t focus here,” he called behind him. Despite the potential harshness of him just up and leaving, you knew better than to take it to heart. As he ventured back inside, you couldn’t help the tugs at the corners of your mouth.

Throwing blows to the training equipment set up inside couldn’t even help him regain his focus. Images if you through all the stages of your pregnancy flooded his mind, taking a toll on his performance. Sloppy swings, kicks, punches: he suddenly grabbed the punching bag. Firmly, he placed both hands on it, his eyes practically burning a hole in the fabric. 

The memories of your tender touches and soft smiles were accompanied with the hopes of what was to come—a family that he kept safe and happy. His fingers dug into the thick skin of the bag as he considered the threat that would undoubtedly take you two into consideration when hunting him down. It was a future which, although inevitable, was something he’d fight against until his last breath. The final punch he threw was for all of those who had already placed a target on his family.

You were in the kitchen when he made his way back around. The kettle was heating up over the stove top and teasing a whistle.

“You shouldn’t be around an open flame and should be resting.” He guided you away from the iron stove towards the sofa. 

“It’s just tea. I’ll be alright.”

“Let me make it for you. You’re the one who’s constantly complaining about swollen feet, remember?” He ignored the slight hmph from you, knowing full well that you’d be glad you took his advice.

Handing you the hot beverage, he then brought over foot rest. Patting it, he reminded you that it would be good for circulation. “You’re always looking out for me, aren’t you,” you sighed at him.

He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. Of course he was, why wouldn’t he be? With him sitting down next to you, you could feel his eyes on you with the same intensity as when you were outside. You winced slightly from the sudden kicks.

“I think our kid is ready to get out,” you laughed softly. “Would you like to feel them kick?” 

His hands gently laid on your belly, instantly feeling the little kicks from inside. His breaths shortened as a surge of emotion took him off guard. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss where the baby was the most active. “I can’t wait to do that with you in my arms,” he whispered.

Caring gestures and loving support helped carry the both of you through the remainder of the ninth month. The cries of your new baby girl soon filled the room, painting everything outside of it as a mere backdrop. Once she was placed in his arms, he knew he could never love something as much as he loved that little girl. Nothing and no one would touch a hair on her head.

Watching him hold your child only solidified your love for him. A man who was stoic and seemingly immune to emotion was looking down at your baby girl with nothing but the soft love of a new father.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

He nodded while gently stroking her little hand, “Yes, she most definitely is.”

[musamora]

ɪᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ · ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ༉‧₊˚

featured. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma. content. f!reader. based on a request. mentions of alcohol (dazai), mentions of food, nicknames, slavic dishes. (minor) spoilers for stormbringer. translation at the end. not proofread.

author's note. this was an incredibly fun request! these men either shift between being incompetent, or not being reliant on others, so it took a sweet turn.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. the kitchen can be many things. a refuge from the toils of everyday life. a workshop for the creation of exquisite tastes. an assemblage of conversation over collaboration.

but one thing is certain—a well-endeavored meal can warm the coldest of hearts.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 arrived home late one evening, tromping through the doorway with the confidence only a drunken man could muster. It had been one of those nights, ones in which he was all too aware of the hollowness of his own heart. One of those days where everything was too loud, the ones where he picked up every minuscule detail, whether he wanted to or not. So, he had taken to a drink or two to fill a void, only to dip into another—before he knew it, the room was spinning, and he found himself kicked out of the bar.

But he still had you to return to, so he gathered any soberness left within him and clambered to place his trench coat and shoes in the spots you had set out for them. He was glad you didn't hear him walk in. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been granted the opportunity to take in the view. You pranced around the kitchen, a lifted twirl in your heel as you stirred ingredients in a saucepan, the domestic mess of powders against your skin.

You were all his. The reason he had a home to return to. His sanctuary from his own mind. He often fretted—though he pretended not to—about the idea of you being taken away from him, a fact that he had come to accept as his reality. But in these simple moments, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you encompassed for a moment longer.

His arms fit snug around your waist, his head like a puzzle piece against the curve of your shoulder. "Is that for me?"

You hummed, pressing a peck on his cheek as you leaned into him.

"You'll always have a meal to return home to, Osamu."

Yeah. He'd indulge for just a little longer.

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 did not expect to pass out. He had returned home from a weeks-long mission overseas, anxiously awaiting the moment you reunited and ran into his arms—only for him to arrive early to an empty home. You were at work, and it wasn't his fault the couch clung to him like a vice! For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming of the fresh smell of savory pasta sauce and spices.

Wait. He can't dream.

He cracked open his eyes, his vision steadily straightening out, and trudged into the kitchen with a befuddled pout, his sight narrowing in on exactly what you had been up to.

"Babe."

"Chuuya!" you yelled, almost losing your grip on your spoon before you managed to catch it, clutching it close to your chest as you twisted the knob on the stove to place the heat at a simmer. "You scared me!"

His arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway. "What're you doing cooking in here by yourself?" he asked sternly, scanning the contents of the pot along with your face. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was mad. But you did know better, catching onto the subtle tilt of his brow, narrowed in simultaneous amusement and disappointment. Cooking was often a partnered endeavor.

You couldn't resist laughter, cupping his cheek as if comforting an upset child. "You've had a long week, and you looked so peaceful lying there. I couldn't bring myself to disturb you."

He would've been quick to argue—you could wake him anytime, no matter the circumstance—but a thought overwhelmed him and kept his mouth at bay. You had done something for him, not with anything to gain, but simply because you cared. He was used to it happening the other way around, but this. . .this felt nice.

So, he relented, his ginger locks tickling your skin as he tucked his face into your neck with a sigh. "Thank you, baby."

𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 had been busy preparing the next phase of his plans, though you supposed he was always busy—too busy to take care of his own basic needs, that was for sure. He was always sorting through different data, exploring multiple angles to achieve his goals.

With the many tasks flooding his brain, he hardly had time to abandon his screens. The skin of his thumb had worn from his subconscious biting habit as he looked over another spreadsheet of banking information, his hands about to slide over the keys yet again.

The scent of stroganoff stirred him from his trance. His eyes shifted to find a steaming plate of the delectable dish sitting next to him on the desk. And he finally registered the firm hand propped against his shoulder, with you looking upon him from above with a sweet but knowing smile.

"Eat."

He wouldn't have customarily taken kindly to such a harsh demand, but he bent to the stern look of your gaze, one that hid behind it a level of care he ravenously craved. You worried for him, not in the same fashion as his so-called "friends," but with the genuine desire to see him thrive, no matter the circumstance.

So, the demon allowed himself a momentary reprieve, kissing a smile into your hand before taking a bite of the dish.

"Delicious, as always, моя милая."

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 had practically burst through the door, prepared to recount the travesties and trials of his day. That was until he caught onto the unmistakable scent of savory pirozhki filling. He followed his nose like a bloodhound, the smell creating a distinct path into the kitchen, where you stood, unaware of the man behind you as you mixed spices into a pan.

"What'cha cooking, dove?" His breath bristled against your ear as he sprung up next to you, using his ability with a shit-eating grin. Your expression mirrored his own, used to the stint of your lover's sudden appearances.

"I found some old Ukrainian recipes online and wanted to try them out." You held out a spoon, and he bit into the filling without a second thought—a mistake. He clutched his throat as his eyes watered, realizing it was too hot for consumption far too late. He finally managed to choke it down, releasing a loud whew!

"Trying to kill me so soon! How cruel!" he exclaimed.

Your laughter roared throughout your home, a shaking hand rubbing his back as you wiped tears from your eyes with the other. "Is it good?"

He brought a finger up to stroke his non-existent beard, humming a quick tune. "Hmm, perhaps a cup of chili powder."

"Коля," you deadpanned. "That's too much."

He sighed, a pout settled on his lips, but you caught the hand sneaking into the interior of his overcoat, snatching his wrist before he poured something irreversible into your dish. He cackled, attempting to pull away as you chased him around the kitchen island.

For a moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world—free of restraint. He could feel the bonds tied around him loosen. He could reach out, taste that sensation of freedom for himself. A freedom he had always found in you.

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 had arrived back to his section of the Sky Casino earlier than he expected, having a strange lack of paperwork. But he simply decided to take it as a sign that he had been doing good work, and ignored the anxious feelings that always sprung from not having anything to do.

"I'm home—!" he called, but was stopped in the entryway by a sweet aroma. It was intoxicating, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lurk into the kitchen.

"Welcome home, honey!" you called back, your voice echoing down the hallway. He stripped himself of his coat, leaving it folded on one of the benches before he trekked across the threshold, a curious shift in his furrowed brow.

You were baking cookies, fluffy chocolate-chip cookies. He couldn't resist the smile on his face, even if he wanted to, nor could he ignore the bubbling warmth in his heart. But he couldn't help his confusion.

"Cookies?" he asked, dipping his finger into a batch of dough before he popped it into his mouth. "What's the occasion?"

You swiped at him with a flour-coated hand before dusting the rest of it off on a towel. "You've been busy lately, so I wanted to make you something sweet," you stated as if it were the simplest thing. But those few simple words took him aback.

You cooked for him. No one had ever done that before, not without being an employee or attempting to manipulate him—or both. And in a matter of seconds, only enough to let in a sweep of hot air from the oven to warm his skin, he realized something that had long remained empty had been filled. He felt whole.

"Sigma!" you exclaimed, and he realized that he had tears streaming down his face. The look of concern drawn through your strained lips, your furrowed brow, and your shifting eyes only further set in his new reality—he had his family. He had found his home.

"I'm okay, love. Just. . .thank you."

моя милая = my dear коля = kolya

TAGLIST: @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin @emyyy007 @betweensinners

© MUSAMORA 2024— do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[allastoredeer]

Controversial opinion but I think Lucifer gets babied too much by the fandom. Like I get that he has mental health issues but seeing all this fanmedia of women and men of color nannying this white-adjacent man who has been shown to be an incompetent and absent husband, father and leader. Just. Grinds my gears.

Not saying I hate Lucifer but... when people frame past radiostatic with current radioapple as a huge upgrade, it reeks of a woman leaving her abusive ex for a neglectful husband. While I'm glad Lucifer is a step up from Adam, I need to see actual improvements if I don't want to get the ick.

Agreed.

I massively agree.

Lucifer gets babied a lot. And like you said, yes, he has mental health issues and that's valid, but a lot of the time, it feels like his mental health issues become a scapegoat for his flaws and bad behavior.

Depression is a legit reason for Lucifer to struggle to maintain relationships and reach out to those he cares about. As someone who has suffered from depression, I understand pulling away from people, feeling like you need a reason to reach out to someone, having a negative opinion of oneself, getting overwhelmed with anxiety, even ignoring other people's attempts at reaching out to you because it's just...too hard and it's too much and you're stuck in this cycle that you can't break out of.

HOWEVER

Lucifer's depression doesn't take away from the fact that he's neglected Charlie as a parent. It doesn't negate the fact that he has acted condescendingly towards her and her ambitions. It doesn't counteract the fact that Charlie felt uncomfortable and awkward for a majority of their interactions in "Dad Beat Dad."

I sympathize with Lucifer having depression, but unfortunately, mental illness doesn't just effect you, it also effects the people around you, and i can't fault Charlie for her feelings too.

Because at the end of the day, Lucifer is Charlie's father.

Charlie is his child.

And as a parent, he has responsibilities. Ones that he failed to meet, which would have an effect on Charlie as children are meant to rely on their parents.

It's very telling that Charlie calls Lilith (who's been MIA for 7 years) more than she calls Lucifer (who's probably just a few Circles away). And no, I don't think this is because Lilith kept them separated and all that bullshit. I think Lucifer 100% had a hand in his and Charlie's estranged relationship and I hate it when he's passed off as nothing but a victim in all of it.

I hate it when he's boiled down to sad depressed man who's done nothing wrong. He has done plenty wrong.

And that's okay.

Because that's what makes his character good. He is multi-faceted. He is flawed. You can be depressed and still treat the people around you bad. I don't think Lucifer ever meant to be an absent parent, he obviously loves Charlie with all his heart, but that doesn't mean Charlie wasn't affected by his actions.

She very obviously was. Charlie is one of the most positive people in the show (to an extent that it becomes one of her flaws too), but the minute she called Lucifer it was a complete flip of how we normally see her. She was immediately annoyed. Her patience was already wire-thin. She was close to snapping so many times.

And I can see why. He only calls when he's bored/wants/needs something. He forgot about where she was and what she was doing despite her already telling him. He told her that he'd do anything to help her, and then said "no" the minute she asked.

Also, let's not forget how he answered the phone in the first place.

"Heeey, bitch!"

And look, it was funny. I laughed too. I still think it's funny.

But, imagine you called your dad for the first time in years (a dad you have a very strained relationship with) and the first thing you hear is a peppy, "Heeeeey, bitch!"

Like??? I can't blame Charlie for being annoyed as all hell, okay? I get the sense that she's been putting up with this bullshit for a VERY long time ad she's lost all patience for it. She's done. She's sick of it. She's been disappointed one too many times.

Also, yes, it's not just that Lucifer has been an absent father but he's been a neglectful ruler too. I wouldn't be surprised if Pentagram City has as much respect for him as they do for Charlie. I mean

HE SIGNED OFF ON THE EXTERMINATIONS

Lucifer gave the go-ahead for a yearly genocide of the people he rules over. Can we get some repercussions for that? Do you know how many people lost their friends? Family? Lovers? Vaggie literally spared a child--a CHILD. And I doubt that was the first kid ever confronted by an Exorcist.

Imagine that Cherri died during an Extermination and here we have Angel Dust meeting the person who stepped aside and let it happen. Do you think he wouldn't be mad?

Imagine Carmilla did lose her daughters during that Extermination. Do you really think she'd meet Lucifer and feel nothing but anger and contempt?

Personally, I think Lucifer agreeing to the Exterminations is what fractured his and Charlie's relationship. Like, fully fractured it. That was the last nail in the coffin.

And honestly, I WANT Lucifer to see the consequences of the Exterminations. I want him to have repercussions because that was an INCREDIBLY SHITTY THING TO DO. I imagine he didn't think there was any other option, but we also know that he didn't hold the sinners in high regard anyway. He had the lowest of low opinions of them. I doubt it took much convincing for him to agree.

Lucifer is the oldest being in the Pride Ring--he may be the oldest being in Hell. He's the most powerful person there. He is the embodiment of Pride. And he ACTS LIKE IT IN THE SHOW.

He has acted that way towards Charlie too. He didn't go to her hotel with an open mind. He wasn't actually listening to her plan or taking it into consideration. He played stupid when she asked him what he thought about it. And when the hotel was under attack, instead of stopping it (which he could easily done with a snap of his fingers), he was smirking and acting self-satisfied as he gloated about being "right" about Sinners.

And if you think I'm exaggerating then go rewatch that entire scene.

Look at him

He is acting so smug and he is rubbing it in Charlie's face.

LOOK AT CHARLIE! She is in distress. She is angry. And she is hurting. Her hotel is falling to pieces around her, her friends are in danger, and the whole time she had her dad gloating in her ear about why her dream is, essentially, a waste of time.

And the only thing that snapped him out of it was Charlie asking why Alastor (the one actually protecting the hotel) has more faith in her than her own father. It took Charlie bringing up Alastor again for Lucifer to knock his shit off.

Look at how hurt and closed off Charlie is in the last screenshot. I can't imagine that this is the first time Lucifer has acted towards her in this way. Do I think Lucifer meant to hurt Charlie?

No.

But did he?

Hell-to-the-fucking-YES!

Lucifer is an asshole. He acted like an asshole towards Alastor. He's acted like an asshole towards Charlie. And he kind of acted like an asshole towards the rest of the Hazbin crew considering he didn't exchange a single line of dialogue with them. They introduced themselves to him and that was it. Lucifer spent the rest of the time dissing on Alastor and talking exclusively to Charlie and Vaggie.

Lucifer suffers from depression, yes, but that doesn't take away that he is as much of an asshole as any other character in the show. And I hate that being stripped away and getting turned into this sad, babied little man who's awkward and shy and everyone else is just being mean to him. It's so dull and it's such a disservice to his character.

I don't want sweet, shy little UwU Lucifer that needs to be coddled.

I want mean, condescending, ass-hole Lucifer who reaps the consequences of his actions and grows from them.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Shower Me With Love

+18

Reader feels overwhelmed as a mother. Thankfully, Ruben knows how to make her feel good again.

Enjoy!

It was a hard thing to admit. A thought that brought you shame. But being a mother of three sometimes made you want to scream.

It was always at the end of the day, just before dinner and the moments after, that you felt like you had no control over yourself or the children. The oldest and the youngest would run around, chasing each other throughout the house. While the middle child needed help with homework that kept reminding you of the horrors of being a student with dyslexia. You simply felt incompetent as a mother, a sudden urge to take it out in your kids. They expected so much of you and so little of the rest of the world. Putting all of their trust in you and Ruben.

"I'm home."

"Daddy!"

Peace would fall upon your home whenever Ruben showed up at the door, a brimming smile on his face, arms open for the kids to run into his embrace. And just like that, the conflict within you simply seized to exist.

"Hi baby, how was your day?"

He would kiss you with a child clinging onto his neck and another his leg. You would tell him that your day was fine, leaving out the part where you almost had a mental breakdown again.

"How was your day?"

"Fine. We're doing alot to prepare for the game next week."

"I see."

Ruben would then fight his way through the house, carrying two children just to get to the third, who sat around the kitchen table, still tussling with homework. Ruben never failed to greet any of your children, giving them the individual attention that they all deserved. This he did better than you. It was a sad thing to admit. However, it was true. Ruben was better with the kids than you, or so the chaos in your mind made you believe.

"I'm going to hop in the shower." You announced. However, none of them seemed to have heard you. They were all gathered around the kitchen table, suddenly interested in doing homework. It didn't bother you as much as it could. This allowed you to slip away unnoticed, finally getting well needed time for yourself.

You would let the water run for at least an hour. The heat was scolding to the average man. However, the perfect temperature for you. You soaked in it, melting into a puddle of nothing. Someone without so much expectation on them.

"Baby?"

The knock on the bathroom door came just in time, like it did almost every night. Through the foggy glass, you saw your husband slip into the bathroom. The kids had been put to bed, leaving him nothing else to do but to join you in the shower.

"God, you're beautiful." He pulled open the glass doors, grinning at the sight of you.

"Don't just stand there." You teased, to which Ruben wasted no time stripping himself of his shirt, tugging his sweats pants down his legs. He winced with the first sensation of the hot water. Once his skin was used to it, his arms pulled your body towards him, pressing your back against his front.

"I've missed you." He said, whispering the words against the lobe of your ear. He then traced his kisses along the running water that ran down your shoulders and the length of your arms. Ruben then made you turn around and face him and the way he regarded you with such admiration and lust. How he never failed to make you feel special was a wonder itself.

"You okay?" He asked, perhaps seeing the fatigue in your eyes. Not even an hour spent in the shower could wash away your fear of inadequacy.

"I am." You nodded. However, it only rewarded you with a skeptical look frown from your husband.

"Don't lie." He said, which caused your heart to strain and tears to well up in your eyes.

"I'm okay, Ruben, I really am. It's just that the children...." You stopped yourself from admitting your sinful thoughts and how they would make you come off as an even worse mother than you already were.

"Y/N?"

Suddenly, all that anxiety seemed to evaporate with Ruben's touch upon your cheek. Even though he couldn't see them through the running water, he seemed to be drying away your tears.

"Why are you always so hard on yourself?"

You chuckled. "Perhaps because I have a husband who makes it seem so easy."

"It is easy." He nodded, and for a second, you thought about stepping out of the shower, ignoring the tempting way Ruben's growing erection put pressure against your stomach. "You make it easy." He smiled.

"I what?"

"I come home to a house where my kids are happy because my wife makes them happy. I get to play with them until it's time to put them to sleep and you leave me to help them with their homework which mends a big part of me that hates it when I'm gone for too long. Football and my career are temporary. You and our family are forever."

"Oh Ruben."

You had never thought of it that way. How you were the heart of the home that he came home to. How he, unlike you, enjoyed helping the kids with their homework, cherishing every moment he had with them considering that he wasn't present for the majority of their day.

"I love you." Ruben spoke the words into your skin, his mouth now attached to your collarbone, nipping the skin until it became softer and thicker as he reached your breasts.

"Fuck." You moaned as he licked across your nipple, taking it into his mouth. Ruben's rough hands then traveled down your body, searching for the soft folds of you slit.

"That feels so good." Your head knocked against his torso, your hands cradling around his head, fingers running through his wet hair. You kissed his lips as you stood on your toes, savoring the tase of him.

Ruben rubbed small circles on your clit, small but powerful.

"Just put it in." You nodded.

His laughter drummed in your ear. "Without a condom?"

"Why would you wear a condom in the shower?"

Again, his laughter drummed in your ear. You always seemed to forget the beginning of your troubles. How your hot showers with Ruben resulted in three kids barley a year apart from each other.

"Can I fuck you like this?" Ruben turned you over to face the wall, arching your back in a way that offered him your ass.

"Yes, like this." You nodded, eager to have him inside of you.

His muscles flexed as his hips aligned with your entrance, the hot water running down the length of your back.

"You ready?"

"Ready." You squealed to the sensation of the size of Ruben, easing into you. Like always, he started of slow, despite your plea for him to go hard right away. His thrusts then came in waves, slow and fast, a combination of both. The sounds of your breathless moans were confined to the sacred sphere that was your shower.

[jedimaesteryoda]

One trend I've noticed a lot lately in the speculation of Tyrion meeting Daenerys is how he'll influence her. The argument often is that Tyrion will encourage her more "fire and blood" destructive tendencies when they get to Westeros. However, this view is often one-sided as it's always about how Tyrion will influence Daenerys but never about how Daenerys will influence Tyrion.

"Daenerys, I am thrice your age," Ser Jorah said. "I have seen how false men are. Very few are worthy of trust, and Daario Naharis is not one of them. Even his beard wears false colors." That angered her. "Whilst you have an honest beard, is that what you are telling me? You are the only man I should ever trust?" He stiffened. "I did not say that." "You say it every day. Pyat Pree's a liar, Xaro's a schemer, Belwas a braggart, Arstan an assassin . . . do you think I'm still some virgin girl, that I cannot hear the words behind the words?" "Your Grace—" She bulled over him. "You have been a better friend to me than any I have known, a better brother than Viserys ever was. You are the first of my Queensguard, the commander of my army, my most valued counselor, my good right hand. I honor and respect and cherish you—but I do not desire you, Jorah Mormont, and I am weary of your trying to push every other man in the world away from me, so I must needs rely on you and you alone. It will not serve, and it will not make me love you any better." -ASOS, Daenerys IV

Daenerys is not the sheltered child Aegon was who Tyrion could easily manipulate as shown when she called out Jorah for trying to isolate her from other men. Even Tyrion admitted to Aegon, having never met Daenerys that "she is strong" and "fierce." Daenerys was more worldly at 14 than Aegon is at 16. Even as a small, frightened girl at age 13 in the beginning of the series, she had more street smarts than her adult brother Viserys and has shown to be a prodigy in the series. Tyrion would not be able to manipulate her easily, especially since would initially be wary of him for being a Lannister.

Tyrion at the end of the day would be serving as her subordinate, him being largely dependent on her. Tyrion largely is the way he is because of the toxic family he grew up in. The Lannister vision has no idea of a Good Society, it's just pure self-aggrandizement by any means necessary. As the adage goes, rot always starts at the head. The monarchs Tyrion served as Hand, Joffrey and Cersei, were both cruel, incompetent tyrants with senses of entitlement that outweighed their actual abilities. They also had no concept of the duties of a monarch to their subjects, and instead just abused their power over others, including sexually. The one who actually ran the show for the Lannister regime, Tywin, was a cold, abusive Machiavellian who brutalized the smallfolk and his children, seeing them as pawns in his schemes. Tyrion could be cunning and brutal, because it was both encouraged and necessary for the winner-take-all, dog-eat-dog world of the Lannister court. It was an environment designed to bring out the darker side of his nature.

However, since the beginning we saw hints of the lighter side of his nature such as when he gave emotional support to Jon and designed a special saddle for Bran. He even helped Catelyn when they were attacked by the mountain clans even though she kidnapped him. In A Clash of Kings, we see hints of Tyrion wanting to be something other than the cold Machiavellian like his father when he stands up for Sansa when Joffrey beats her, and he has Morec killed and Slynt sent to the Wall for killing Barra, wanting to "do justice." In A Dance with Dragons, he risks his life to protect Aegon and even in his lowest he looks out for Penny even though she is a complete stranger to him.

Daenerys is a foil to Cersei, whose ruling philosophy is expressed in the statement "Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?" Daenerys tries to live up to the image of an ideal monarch who protects the weak. She liberates the oppressed from slavery and tries to protect them, even performing acts like tending to those afflicted with the bloody flux herself, marrying someone she doesn't want and putting her plan of going to Westeros on hold to achieve peace. Working as Hand to Queen Daenerys, Tyrion may find himself in a change of pace in a different environment where for once his more positive tendencies are encouraged with his fondness for "cripples, bastards and broken things."

In short, in cutting himself off from his toxic family, Tyrion may actually find a new beginning in service to Daenerys. He's the Machiavellian polymath and court politician she needs, and she's the competent, idealistic monarch he needs.

[phoenixblaze1412]

Hello there!!!👋

May I ask for some angst?

Dottore spending time with his biological child and the more the day progresses he sees his wife (who died a few day after giving birth to their child) in their child (A headcanon and/or small scenario plz)

Thank you!!!

Gonna make me cry anon.. also might have changed it a bit.

Taking care of a kid is a difficult task for Dottore himself. Especially if it was his own. A healthy baby girl, how ironic that she looked exactly the same as you. Neither of you didn't expect such a tragedy to happen, mostly him.

"Sir, she won't be able to make it." Omega stated, watching over your vital signs. Your body was currently too weak to deliver the baby, and being in labor wasn't helping a lot.

"Then let the child die. I'd rather lose the kid than lose my wife." Dottore snapped as he quickly went and placed an oxygen mask over you, tucking away the lose strands of your hair away from your face. He was quick to notice your breathing becoming more heavy and labored.

"Both her and the child will die if we continue with that idea!" the Theta segment exclaimed.

The three of them were quick to shut up when they heard your pained groans. Immediately examining and looking you over to at least lessen the pain you were experiencing but still keeping you conscious.

Dottore was already in a state of anger and worry, thinking up of multiple solutions to get the child out of you all the while keeping you alive but that seems to be difficult since you don't even have the strength to push the baby out so maybe a c-section will do but the chance of you dying is big. He was quick to come out of his thoughts when you grabbed his arm, making him focus his attention to you.

"Zandik please.. promise me you won't let our baby die."

He let out a deep sigh before nodding at your request. Even at times like these, he could never say no to you. He called over a few more segments to begin your surgery. A simple c-section, nothing to worry about right? But why was he, he of all people suddenly felt fear as he held the scalpel upon your stomach.

It's not right. He knows this will end up badly if he continued, he already felt it. Snapping out of his thoughts once more when he heard you cry out in pain, he nodded to his segments to sedate you for a bit as he began the operation.

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours. Every segment waited anxiously as they watched their creator work strenuously. The once silent room was filled with small cries as Dottore held his newborn child, dirty from all the blood and amniotic fluid but alive and well. Iota walked over to take the baby from Dottore to clean her up as the doctor went and stitched you up while the other segments who were present had cheerful grins along their faces.

Their happiness was quickly cut off the moment they heard the sound of your heart monitor dropping. Dottore glanced up and glared at Omega, cursing under his breath as he finished stitching you up to help Omega with keeping you stable.

"You incompetent fool! I gave you one job!"

Panic. That's what they're all feeling the moment when you became cardiac asystole. Dottore and Omega resuscitating you the best they can, even using electro to give your heart a shock to at least show any heart rhythm but none came.

"(Y/N) please wake up! You can't leave me! Come on! Your child- our child is safe and awake now it's your turn to wake up please!"

It's been fifteen minutes max with no signs of you showing any heartbeat, the segments could only look away, not wanting to cry in front of you. The sudden weight being placed upon them at the news of your death was overbearing.

Even Iota couldn't believe it. But even so, he couldn't cause any tantrums, he couldn't yell or even throw anything out of anguish. He was holding your child at the moment. The baby you left to them before you passed. It took him a few minutes to calm the baby down and wrap her up in a blanket.

Meanwhile Dottore was still leaning over your figure, his hand held yours as he leaned his forehead against your knuckles. Both of your wedding rings, glimmering against the light.

Dottore knew something bad was going to happen. He felt it bubbling in his guts yet he let it happen. The moment Iota walked back into the room with his daughter in his hold, Dottore glared at them.

"I don't want to see that thing near me. Dispose of it immediately. Give it to the Knave or send it someplace else."

Iota was quick to snap at the order, sure he's still in despair about losing you like how the others feel but his creator telling him to dispose of your own offspring is not what he expected to hear.

"What are you thinking?! (Y/N) carried your child for months, having to go through all the hardships a pregnant woman would go through and here you are disposing her efforts?!"

"I already knew from the start that saving the child would end up with her death! I would have preferred to save her instead of the child!"

"Would she want you to?! You know her well enough to know that she would rather risk herself in danger to save a life! She already said it herself before the operation! You promised her not to let the child die!"

Dottore was quick to shut up, looking over at the little figure bundled up in the blankets. Thoughts filled with 'what if's' as he looked back at your figure on the examining bed.

What if he chose to save you instead of his child? Would you even be happy towards him if you knew about his plans?

A soft coo was heard as Iota looked down at the baby before carefully handing her over to Dottore. The doctor was hesitant at first but he took the chance to hold his own child in his arms. The baby let out little babbles and gargles as her hands reach out to the doctor and tried to grab at his hair.

Dottore observed her actions, looking over her features and letting out a bitter laugh at how his own daughter had most of your features. It's like the gods are being cruel and making his own heart hurt more than it already is.

"From now on, your name will be ■■■■. (Y/N) thought of that name for you."

"Papa? Wake up!"

Dottore slowly opened his eyes and noticed he had fallen asleep on the grass. Finally remembering that he was joining his daughter in the forests of Sumeru to look for some flowers. He was assigned on a mission to take the dendro, along with the electro gnosis back as soon as possible but his daughter wanted to explore a bit and take a break.

Dottore glanced up and squinted his eyes as he stared up at the figure leaning over him. Eyes widening in surprise as he stared at you, the light shining brightly from behind you made you look so angelic and beautiful. He continued to stare at you, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, your face so full of life and a grin plastered on your face as you looked back at him.

He tried to reach his hand out to you but you quickly vanished the moment he blinked and was now staring at his four year old daughter.

"Are you okay papa? Why are you crying?"

Dottore was quick to wipe the tears away from his eyes as he sat up and looked over his child. Oh how he misses you so. Everytime he looks and talks to his child it felt like it was him talking to you instead. Your looks, the way you talk, even your attitude was passed onto your daughter.

He could only laugh at the idea that if you were still with them, he would be having two of the most sassiest women in Teyvat in his life. He got up on his feet and ruffled his daughter's hair.

"Have you gotten what you needed, little one?"

"Mhm! I finally got these flowers! Iota told me all about them and I wanted to take some home myself."

She held up a bouquet of padisarah flowers, the doctor could only stare in surprise at how she even got them, moreso why did Iota even told her about it.

"Iota told me how they were mama's favorite flowers and showed me pictures of her holding them. He told me how you would always gift her a bouquet of these whenever you came back from Sumeru and I wanted to give these to mama too... can I give these to her? Will mama like it?"

"...she would love them a lot, my child. Now come on, once I finished my mission then we can visit your mother and give her these gifts. She would be happy to receive these flowers from you."