#but i must say it feels strangely refreshing to have something that is only my own this way because i always have to put myself out there

[thepascalparadox]

Chapter Eight: Responsibility Above All 

Word Count | 5.9k Pairing | General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader OC Chapter Warnings | allusions to smut, switch pov

The General’s tent looked so different in the morning light. Last night, it had felt heavy with mystery and unease, the kind that made it impossible to relax. Perhaps it was the strangeness of the place—unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar surroundings—but now, everything seemed calmer. The soft rays of sunlight poured through the open flaps, making the candles from the night before seem unnecessary. A gentle breeze moved through the tent, replacing the sticky heat with something cooler, almost refreshing. You wondered if this change in the air would make it easier to say the difficult words you had prepared.

As expected, sleep never came to you. When the first light of dawn appeared, you decided to stop tossing in bed and face the day. Hours had passed with nothing but your thoughts: plans forming and silent prayers to the heavens, hoping for some divine guidance from your mother or father. Yet the silence of the gods remained unbroken, and you were left to face this moment alone.

In the corner of the tent, a wooden chest sat quietly. It was a gift from Lena, the General’s pregnant wife, filled with fresh dresses to replace the one torn from your ride through the woods. Her gesture had surprised you. You were so used to hollow kindness from people trying to gain favor with the Emperor’s daughter. But here, in this encampment, you had no title, no throne to sit upon. You were no longer a princess. Perhaps, just perhaps, Lena’s gesture came from a place of genuine goodwill. You made a mental note to thank her later, with sincerity.

The sound of footsteps interrupted your thoughts. Valerian, Lena, and Acacius entered the tent together.

For a brief moment, your eyes met Acacius’s. His expression was different from last night’s anger; instead, there was something else—something quieter, as if looking at you caused him pain. You forced yourself to ignore it. Your feelings didn’t matter right now. A leader couldn’t afford such weakness.

“Your Grace,” Valerian said, his tone casual, as though this decision was a simple one. “Have you reached your conclusion?”

“Be kinder, my love,” Lena interjected, her voice gentle but firm. “She is not one of your comrades to be addressed so carelessly.” She moved gracefully across the tent and settled into a chair near a modest table bearing fresh fruit. A quiet exchange passed between her and Valerian—an unspoken connection that only lovers share. His boyish, almost bashful smile hinted at a shared secret. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if the gods would ever grant you something even remotely resembling their bond. “Forgive us for the delay, my dear. This little one decided to make quite the fuss after all the excitement of last night.” Her hands rested protectively on her belly, caressing it with the tenderness of a mother. A gesture so natural, so familiar, that it stirred distant memories of your own mother.

“There is no need for further formality.” You stood, squaring your shoulders to project a confidence you did not entirely feel. “I have reached my decision. To do so, I had to set aside my personal desires and emotions. My duty is to the Roman people, just as my father’s always was. He would not have tolerated a usurper taking the city through unjust means. That is why I must marry General Acacius.”

You kept your eyes fixed on Valerian, unwilling to face Acacius and risk seeing the disdain you were certain must be etched on his features.

But if you had looked, you would have seen his expression shift. Surprise overtook his face, his breath caught in his throat, and for a heartbeat, his chest seemed to freeze mid-rise.

“My father despised war,” you continued, your voice firm and deliberate, “but he understood the cost of peace. He would never have wanted me to wed someone as corrupt as Macrelius, merely to appease the Senate. His memory must not be dishonored, and our people must be free from the tyranny of those men.” You finished your speech with as much resolve as you could muster, praying that your words conveyed the image of a determined and courageous leader. Yet beneath the surface, your heart trembled.

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

What, in the name of all the gods, was she doing?

Acacius mind replayed the events of the previous night with merciless clarity. Their encounter had spiraled out of control, unraveling in a way he hadn’t anticipated. To him, it had been obvious—marrying that man was never an option. Yet when you uttered those cursed words, that you would feel safer with Macrelius, something inside him had snapped.

He regretted his reaction, bitterly. His words, his tone—they had been unbecoming of a soldier, let alone a man who loved a woman. And love you he did. The realization had struck him with the force of an enemy’s blade. There was no other explanation for the jealousy that had clawed its way through him, no excuse for the way his chest burned at the mere thought of you choosing another. After storming out of your tent, he’d spent the night tangled in the memory of your voice, your expression, the pain etched into your every word.

For a fleeting moment, he’d considered returning to you, swallowing his pride to apologize. But what good would that have done? Surely, you would choose Macrelius. You deserved happiness, and if it lay with another man, then he would have no choice but to accept it. He would support it, even, if only to keep you safe.

But now—now you stood here, and your words shattered everything he thought he understood.

I must marry General Acacius.

The walls he had so carefully built around his heart crumbled in an instant. His breath caught, his pulse racing as though he were preparing for battle. His body screamed at him—fight or flee. But which was it to be? Should he run from you and the chaos you brought into his soul, or fight for this fragile, impossible thing between you? For the first time, Acacius questioned everything he had promised himself.

"Well, it seems you're very much decided, Princess," Valerian’s voice broke through the haze in his mind. “I can see your father left a great legacy. My wife will handle all the... womanly matters, given that she’s one of the few here not at home raising our son as I begged her to do a thousand times.” His tone was light, teasing, as he glanced at Lena, who responded with a knowing smirk.

"Wait," Acacius interrupted, his voice unsteady, almost desperate. "Do I not have a say in this?"

“To be honest, brother, you don’t,” Valerian replied, his tone soft yet firm. “We’ve already discussed this, and much to your dislike, you can’t escape marriage forever.”

Lena rose carefully, her movements slow under the weight of her pregnancy. “Perhaps they should have a moment alone,” she suggested, slipping her arm through Valerian’s. Her playful tone returned as she whispered, “Your son is crushing my ribs, and I need some air.”

As the couple left the tent, you turned to Acacius, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the rustle of the canvas around you. “I know this decision doesn’t bring you joy,” you began, your voice wavering. “But this is something I must do—for my people, for my father—”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, spilling the words in a rush as your fingers twisted nervously at the hem of your dress. The weight of his presence was unbearable, pressing down on you like a storm cloud.

“Lumina mea,” he interrupted, his hands reaching for yours. His touch was cold, trembling, yet his grip was firm enough to anchor you. He lowered his head, searching for your gaze until you finally lifted your eyes to meet his.

“Can you not see it?” His voice cracked, raw and unguarded. “My heart has been yours since that night in the gardens. I know I’m not easy to read, that my temper gets the better of me, but this—” He pressed your hand to his chest, where his heart pounded beneath your palm. “This belongs to you and always will. That’s why I must ask: are you sure you want this? If there’s even a single moment where you think you’d be happier with him, then please—choose him. I want you to be happy, and I’m not sure I can give you everything you deserve.”

The words hung in the air between you, fragile and uncertain, yet filled with a sincerity that made your chest ache. For the first time, the formidable General seemed vulnerable—a man standing on the precipice of love and fear, willing to sacrifice everything for your happiness.

"Why didn’t you say all of this earlier?" Your voice trembles, soft and almost fragile, as if it might shatter under the weight of the question. “You left me thinking you hated me, that you were toying with my feelings, and that the idea of marrying me was as dreadful as death…”

Your words trail off, but the pain they carry lingers in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and unrelenting. His silence feels louder than anything, and for a moment, you fear he won’t answer at all.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, his voice rough, each word deliberate. “I… I’m not very good at this. Expressing my feelings, I mean.” He pauses, the weight of his inadequacy evident in the way his shoulders slump slightly. “But I’ll do better—I promise you that.”

He lifts your hand, his grip both gentle and firm, and presses a kiss to the back of it. The warmth of his lips lingers on your skin, and for the first time, you see not the General, not the soldier hardened by years of war, but the man beneath.

A faint smile tugs at your lips, and you raise your eyes to meet his. “Well,” you say softly, “I suppose we’ll have to learn together then.”

Your smile grows, tentative but genuine, and in that moment, something unspoken passes between you. It’s a fragile understanding, a promise that neither of you could fully put into words but both feel with undeniable certainty.

Acacius watches you, his chest tightening with emotions he can barely comprehend. The vulnerability in your smile, the strength in your voice despite the hurt you’ve endured—it moves something deep within him. He makes a vow, silent and sacred, far greater than just learning to express his feelings.

He will become what you need, what you deserve. He will protect you with his very life if necessary, shield you from every storm, and make you the happiest woman alive. You deserve no less, and he will stop at nothing to ensure it.

The world outside the tent seems to fade, its demands and dangers momentarily forgotten. For now, there is only you and him, two souls caught in the uncertain but undeniable pull of something greater than either of you can name. And as he holds your hand, Acacius silently promises that, whatever trials await, you will face them together.

“Then I suppose... I shall see you at the altar.”

His words come softly, yet they carry a weight that lingers in the air between you. His lips curve into a gentle smile, one that feels uncharacteristically tender for the man you thought you knew. But it is not merely the smile that holds your attention; it is the way his eyes glisten, reflecting a light so unlike the fierce general you’ve come to recognize.

In that moment, the stoicism of his demeanor falters. There is something unguarded, vulnerable even, in his expression—a quiet joy that seems almost foreign to him, like a man stumbling upon a treasure he had long forgotten he desired.

And though the words are simple, their resonance stirs something deep within you. For the first time, the path ahead feels less like a sentence and more like a promise.

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

Lena seemed to embody the excitement of a child at a festival, her energy contagious as she flitted about the tent with determined purpose. She meticulously examined each piece of fabric brought by the other women in the camp, lifting them against the faint light filtering through the canvas walls. Her movements were quick, but precise, her brow furrowed in concentration as she matched the vibrant hues and textures to the dress you were already wearing.

“I’ll make this as beautiful as it can be, darling,” she declared, her tone both reassuring and commanding. “We don’t have much, but what we do have will suffice. A princess cannot be wed in anything less than perfection, can she?” Her eyes lingered on a silken strip of fabric before dismissing it with a wave of her hand, the discarded piece falling to the floor without ceremony.

You stood silent, offering only a timid smile in response. Words felt unnecessary, or perhaps they simply escaped you in this moment. The nervousness coursing through your veins dulled your wit, leaving you unable to summon even the most mundane pleasantries.

Lena paused in her whirlwind, her gaze softening as she seemed to sense your unease. She stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on her hips as she regarded you with a kind, sisterly expression.

“You know,” she began, her voice quieter now, almost conspiratorial. “I grew up surrounded by men. Soldiers, generals, and war councils... it was a world of steel and strategy. But now that you are to marry my brother...” Her voice trailed off as her face brightened with a smile that could rival the sun. “It feels as though I’m finally gaining a sister, you know?”

Her confession took you by surprise, but it brought a warmth to your chest that you hadn’t expected. Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a gentle squeeze. “Of course. And as sisters, you must stop with all this ‘princess’ and ‘your majesty’ nonsense. We are family now.”

Lena’s smile grew impossibly larger, and with a playful tilt of her head, she returned to rifling through the collection of garments, humming softly to herself.

The silence that followed weighed heavily, and at last, you found yourself speaking, your voice hesitant and quiet. “It’s just... I feel so nervous. I’ve been preparing for this my whole life, but even though I don’t mind having a modest wedding, everything feels so strange, so foreign. And then, of course, there’s your brother...”

Lena froze mid-motion, her face clouding with concern as she turned to you sharply. “Did he mistreat you?”

“Oh, no!” you answered quickly, your cheeks coloring at the implication. “Quite the opposite. He’s... well, he’s quite a man.” Your voice faltered, your gaze falling as a shy smile played on your lips. Memories of your fleeting moments with Acacius flooded your mind, and you felt the heat rising to your face.

Lena’s sharp expression softened, her lips curving into a knowing grin. She took your hand and led you to the edge of the cot, sitting beside you with the air of someone eager for a tale. “Tell me everything!”

“There’s not much to tell,” you admitted, though the warmth in your voice betrayed the fluttering in your chest. “At first, I thought he liked me. We even... kissed, the very night we met. But then he began avoiding me, and I convinced myself that he merely tolerated my presence.”

Lena shook her head, her laughter light and musical. “My brother is as thick-headed as a stubborn mule. I’ve long given up trying to understand what goes on in that mind of his.”

“Well, I was certain he would despise the idea of marrying me. But now that I know... that our feelings are mutual...” You trailed off, your laughter nervous. “I don’t know what to do!”

Lena’s expression turned mischievous as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re not... worried about the wedding night, are you?”

Your face burned at the mere suggestion, and the look of mortification you shot her made her giggle softly. Sensing your discomfort, she quickly reassured you.

“There’s nothing to fear,” she said warmly. “My brother may be brash and unpolished, but he cares for you. He will be gentle, and I dare say you’ll find the experience far more enjoyable than you might expect.” She stood abruptly, her hands on her lower back as she stretched, her pregnant belly shifting slightly with the motion. “Now come, they’ll be arriving shortly with a priest from the nearest village. You must look splendid.”

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

You hadn’t expected his touch to feel this way, warm and steady, grounding you amidst the whirlwind of the evening. His hand enveloped yours, fingers lightly brushing against your skin as if unsure whether to hold tightly or let you slip away. For a fleeting moment, you dared to glance down, marveling at the contrast—the roughness of his calloused palm against the softness of your own.

The two of you sat together on the raised wooden dais, a place of honor reserved for newlyweds. The crude yet sturdy chairs bore wreaths of laurel and wildflowers, their fragrance mingling with the smoky aroma of the fire that roared in the heart of the encampment. Beyond the flickering flames, figures danced in jubilant abandon, their laughter and voices lifting to the heavens as a hymn to Jupiter.

The great fire commanded the center of the celebration, its crackling embers leaping skyward as if eager to carry the prayers of those gathered. Around it, offerings were laid with care—baskets brimming with fresh grains, clusters of vibrant blossoms, and small carved idols placed as tokens of devotion. Each gift was a plea for blessings, a promise of prosperity, and a hope that this union, like the fire itself, would burn bright and enduring.

The golden light of the late afternoon bathed the assembled crowd, casting long shadows over the neatly arranged rows of soldiers. The air buzzed softly with murmured prayers and the rustle of ceremonial garb. The priest, adorned in pristine white robes, stood beneath a canopy of crimson, his hands steady as he prepared for the ancient rite.

Before the him stood Aemilia and Acacius, their hands freshly cleansed and now clasped together in the sacred Dextrarum Iunctio, the joining of right hands—a gesture both symbolic and binding. Their gazes met briefly, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them, but Acacius quickly looked forward, his expression a stoic mask.

The priest began the invocation, calling upon Jupiter Optimus Maximus to witness the vows and bless this union forged for the stability of Rome. When it was Aemilia’s turn to speak, she inhaled deeply, her voice carrying across the crowd, steady but heavy with meaning.

"Before the gods and in the sight of this great assembly, I, Aemilia, pledge my hand and my heart to this union. For the good of Rome, I offer my loyalty, my strength, and my honor. In joining our destinies, we create something greater than ourselves, for together, we are stronger than apart."

Her words were measured, deliberate, and though the sentiment was laced with duty, the softness in her tone hinted at her resolve to see this bond through—not out of passion, but out of a deep-rooted sense of responsibility.

Acacius followed, his voice firm but slower, as if weighing every word. "Before Jupiter and all who bear witness, I, Acacius, accept this union with Aemilia. I vow to protect, to honor, and to uphold the promises made here today. For the strength of Rome and the legacy of our people, I take this bond as sacred, unyielding."

He hesitated for the briefest of moments, his hand tightening slightly around hers as if grounding himself. "Though our paths have converged not by chance, I will strive to be a partner worthy of this alliance and the trust it commands."

The priest raised his hands in blessing, intoning the ancient words that finalized the pact. A soldier stepped forward, carrying a thin strip of woven cloth, red and gold, which he carefully wrapped around their joined hands—a symbol of their intertwined fates.

As the vows ended, the murmurs of the crowd fell silent, the weight of the ceremony settling like a gentle shroud. Aemilia glanced at Acacius, whose face betrayed no emotion, yet his grip remained firm. For all the political undertones of this marriage, the act of clasping hands, the solemnity of the vows, and the blessings of the gods bound them together in a way no strategy could sever.

“You feel tired? Do you wish to retire?” His voice was a low whisper, a soft murmur that brushed against your ear. His face, illuminated only by the flickering moonlight and the warm glow of the fire, looked somehow different now. There was a hint of redness in his cheeks, a glow that spoke not of exhaustion but of the wine that had loosened the air around you both. It was just enough to make him seem more at ease, more human, yet not enough to dull his sharp gaze.

“I do wish for a little quiet, I’ll admit,” you replied, offering him a shy smile, the words escaping more from nervousness than desire. “But you can stay, enjoy the festivities."

“Oh, I will not,” he said, shaking his head, his voice light yet firm. “These festivities are for both of us. And if you are not here, then there is no reason for me to stay.” He pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand, and as he did, you noticed the gesture had become almost habitual. And strangely, you realized how much you had come to cherish it. “And a husband,” he added with quiet certainty, “I shall follow you wherever you are.”

“Well, if you say so...” you smiled, a little bashful beneath his teasing tone, yet it stirred something warm inside you.

He called to Valerian, murmuring something to him, and moments later, the crowd’s attention was drawn to the space before the fire, signaling the beginning of a special dance.

“This is our cue,” Acacius said, his tone playful, almost boyish, as he gave you a mischievous look, his eyes gleaming with a shared secret. “Let us flee before anyone notices.”

“Oh, so now I see how strategic the great General of Rome is!” you teased him, your voice carrying lighthearted mockery. “What a meticulous plan, indeed.”

He guided you, his hand firm in yours, leading the way as he walked ahead. “So you laugh at me?” he quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I rescue you with a successful plan, and what I get in return is mockery?” His tone was far from angry. In fact, it was the opposite—his humor was infectious. Your teasing had managed to draw out a genuine laugh from him, a sound that, for some reason, filled you with ease.

“Does the soldier wish something different for rescuing a princess in distress, like me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in playful defiance.

“Well, I do have some things in mind...” His voice dropped an octave, deepening with an unfamiliar edge. You had never heard him speak like this before. With a flick of his wrist, he opened the tent flap, gesturing for you to enter.

Inside, the space was breathtaking. The soft glow of candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, their light warm and inviting. The bed in the center was draped with white cushions, a serene haven in the midst of the night’s revelry. You looked at Acacius with a nervous glance, the anxiety stirring within you like a whirlwind.

“I asked Lena to make our chamber as comfortable as possible,” he said, his voice light, though you could hear the faint hesitation beneath. “I hope... I hope it suits you.” He stepped ahead, close to the bed, as though unsure of what to do next.

You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Your mother had spoken of certain things, and Vera, in her own way, had offered her limited knowledge during those quiet late nights you shared. But now, in this moment, all that seemed distant, irrelevant. The air was thick with uncertainty.

Noticing your unease, Acacius reached out, his hand extended with gentleness. “Come,” he said softly, his tone laced with warmth. You hesitated but moved toward him, your fingers finding the comfort of his hand. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want tonight,” he continued, his voice steady but kind. “I will never, ever force myself upon you, I promise.”

You lowered your gaze, the nerves flooding your chest, your voice trembling slightly as you spoke. “I truly don’t know what to do... I don’t want to disappoint you, but I am, one hundred percent, nervous.”

He gently lifted your chin with his thumb, his touch both firm and tender. “What about we continue from that night in the palace garden?” His words, though simple, brought an unexpected calmness to your fluttering heart. His reassuring smile made the world seem just a little less daunting, and for a brief moment, you felt as though it was okay to be vulnerable, to be unsure.

With a shy nod, you closed the distance between you, your lips finding his in a soft kiss—a quiet promise, a tentative step toward something new, yet familiar.

His lips met yours with a tenderness that belied the strength of his embrace. His hands moved with deliberate care, one encircling your waist to draw you nearer, the other cradling the nape of your neck as though safeguarding a fragile treasure. A fire kindled within you, growing with every heartbeat, and the desire to be closer—to dissolve entirely into him—overwhelmed you.

When he pulled away, it was only just enough to speak, his lips brushing yours as his breath mingled with your own. “I say we do this…” His voice was slightly uneven, breathless in a way that made your pulse quicken. “I’ll lead, but if at any moment you wish me to stop, if anything feels wrong—just say so. Do you understand?”

Your throat felt dry, and the words caught there for a moment before you nodded.

His brow furrowed slightly, and he tipped your chin to meet his gaze, his tone soft but firm. “I need to hear it, mea formosa.”

You swallowed the nerves tightening your chest and managed to whisper, “I will say it… husband.”

The word seemed to ripple through him, his entire frame shivering with a desire so palpable it left you breathless. His forehead pressed lightly to yours as his voice dropped, almost a growl. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Before you could respond, his lips found the curve of your neck, tracing a slow, reverent path that left you gasping. A hum escaped you—whether in agreement, question, or sheer surrender, you could not tell. Words had deserted you, scattered like leaves in a tempest.

He chuckled softly against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. “Nothing to say now, hmm?” His voice carried a teasing lilt, playful yet intoxicatingly deep.

You couldn’t help the way your lips curved into a smile, though your breath came in shallow gasps. He always had this effect on you—the ability to coax laughter, longing, and love all at once, as if his very existence were a melody only you could hear.

The tension in the air shifted, transforming from anxious uncertainty into something tender and filled with trust. He leaned forward, capturing her lips once more in a kiss that was unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world. His hands moved with deliberate care, one cradling the back of her neck, the other tracing the curve of her waist. Each touch ignited a spark within her, building a warmth that spread through her entire being.

Aemilia let out a soft, involuntary sigh as his lips trailed from hers to her jaw, then to the sensitive skin of her neck. She tilted her head, granting him better access, her fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic. “Acacius,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands trembling as they began to explore his broad shoulders and down his arms.

He guided her to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he were afraid to shatter the fragile intimacy that enveloped them. When they sat together, she felt the tremor in his hands as he gently brushed her hair away from her face. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “Do you know that?”

Aemilia’s blush deepened, but a newfound confidence stirred within her. “You...” she said softly, her tone carrying a playful edge, “you are not so bad yourself.”

His laughter was quiet but genuine, and the sound eased the lingering tension in her chest. “Not so bad? Coming from you, I shall consider it as gesture of your kindness” he teased, leaning closer, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth.

As the layers of clothing fell away, the barriers between them dissolved as well. She could feel his hesitation mingling with her own, yet his touch never wavered. He moved as though she were something precious, his fingertips tracing patterns along her skin that sent shivers down her spine. And when his hands trembled, she placed hers over his, steadying him.

“Acacius,” she whispered, her voice more assured now, “I want this. I want you.”

Her boldness surprised them both, but it was the spark he needed to fully let go of his own reservations. “You have all of me, Aemilia,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “Now and always.”

As the night unfolded, the initial hesitance melted away, replaced by a growing confidence in each other’s embrace. She surprised herself with the way she responded to his touch, her hands exploring the contours of his body with an eagerness she hadn’t known she possessed. He, in turn, was captivated by her courage, her willingness to meet him halfway and then some.

In the dimly lit room, shadows danced along the tent, casting an air of quiet intimacy. The soft rustle of fabric was the only sound that accompanied the slow, tender movements between them. She, poised yet determined, gently guided him back, her touch sending a shiver through him. Her eyes, darkened with a depth of feeling, met his, and in that fleeting moment, she pushed him back gently, taking the lead in a way that left him breathless.

"Want you so badly, it almost aches," he whispered, his voice low and thick, laden with both admiration and an undeniable hunger. The words hung between them, as if the very air was charged with unspoken desire.

She allowed herself a small, knowing smile, her lips curling ever so slightly as a mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. "That bad?" she teased, her voice soft but laden with a certain playfulness. "Well, coming from you, I shall take that as a gesture of your kindness."

He laughed, a warm sound that filled the space, and his fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch lingering on her skin. "It's not kindness," he said with a sincerity that made his words feel almost like a vow. "It's the truth. I can't fathom a life where you're not in my arms every moment. How could I bear such a thing?"

She gazed at him, her expression softening, the playfulness in her eyes replaced by something deeper, something quieter. Her hand, still resting against his chest, gave a gentle press, as if urging him to quiet his thoughts.

“Let’s not think of that,” she murmured, her voice low, the words like a delicate sigh, almost a plea.

He looked at her, as if trying to decipher the meaning behind her words. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze holding his with an intensity that made him forget everything but the two of them, standing there in a world of their own making.

A breath caught in his chest, and for a moment, it seemed as though time itself had paused, leaving them suspended in that quiet space between what was said and what remained unspoken. His fingers grazed her cheek, the touch almost reverent, as if every part of him ached to hold onto this moment, to keep her here, with him, as the rest of the world faded away

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

When their breaths finally slowed and they lay entwined beneath the soft glow of the candles, a comfortable silence settled over them. His fingers traced lazy circles on her bare shoulder, and she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

She bit her lip, already feeling the warmth of embarrassment creeping up her neck. "I apologize if I’m going beyond some limit by asking," she began, her voice soft and hesitant, as though she were testing the waters of a delicate subject. "But… I feel like I should know, perhaps… Or I’m just curious, and I wish to know. I’m your wife, and I believe we should know some details of each other’s lives."

Her voice trailed off, and she realized she might have spoken more than she intended, her words almost mumbling now, as though retreating into herself. Her heart fluttered, uncertainty swelling in her chest.

"Out with it," he said, his tone light, yet there was a warmth there that softened the words. His hand found its way to her side, pinching her gently, the touch playful, even affectionate, easing some of the tension.

She hesitated, feeling her breath catch in her throat before she spoke again, lifting her gaze from his chest to meet his eyes. "Have you ever… done this before?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her heart raced as she sought the truth in his expression, wondering how he would answer, what that truth might be.

He froze for just a heartbeat, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words, the right way to explain. The seconds seemed to stretch on forever, leaving her to wonder if perhaps he wouldn't answer at all. But then, his voice broke the silence, serious and steady. "I was raised differently, so yes," he replied, his gaze steady, his words deliberate. "I have done it before."

She could feel a ripple of discomfort pass through her, but before she could let the silence grow too thick, he reached for her hands, his fingers gentle against hers. He held them there for a moment, still, the weight of his touch grounding her. "But this..." he continued, his voice softer now, as if he were confessing a truth that had only just occurred to him. "This is new to me as much as it is new to you. It never felt like this."

The words lingered in the space between them, charged with something deeper than she had expected. She could feel the sincerity in his tone, the truth in his touch. For a moment, time seemed to pause, and in that pause, she realized that this, what they were sharing, was something entirely their own, something neither of them could quite put into words, yet both understood fully.

[lilacerull0]

i feel like reading/watching mbf immediately means knowing who i am as a person and... i cannot allow this

[creelkobblelaufeyson69]

Say yes

Warnings: smut

They lived in the same small town as Adam and Barbara, and the couple was their only friends in the town since they were new to the town. Something attracted them to this town, and they’re dying to find out what it could be. While driving to the couple’s house, they noticed the side of the rooftop looking spot you had to go under had been crashed into

They put their car to the side, and then parked it. They go over to investigate, and saw the couple’s car in the lake outside of the area. Their body went stiff now, and they felt like vomiting. They didn’t see Adam and Barbara inside of the vehicle either. The only friends they knew were dead. They rushed towards the house, ditching their car in the process

They took out their spare key, and unlocked the front door. They locked the door once inside of the place. They knew Jane was going to sell the house, but they wouldn’t let her. This was their friend’s house and it meant everything to the couple. Someone would have to kill them before that happens

Adam and Barbara were in the living room, looking back at them. “Do you think they’ll notice us Adam?” She asked her husband. They turned to face the voice of Barbara, and saw the couple standing right there. “Wait… you guys are alive?” They asked in confusion as the couple still looked at them. Adam and Barbara looked at each other now in confusion

“Why would we be dead?” He asked as he now looks back at them. She does too, since she was also curious to know why they would think that the two were dead. “I found your car in the lake” they pointed out, which makes Adam’s eyes widened. “Oh my god…” he looks back at his wife, who also looks back at him with the same wide eyes

“That means you two are ghosts now” they say as that weird connection feeling was stronger than ever. “I don’t want to be dead Adam” she says as they ponder about what could possibly be drawing their attention. “Me neither Barbara” he says as the two now looked fearful. “We’re also definitely not in heaven or hell if they can see us” she adds as they were still pondering

“Do you guys feel that?” They asked abruptly. The couple looks at them in confusion. “Feel what?” The two asked in unison. “This strange feeling that is wanting to lure you in?” They added, but the couple was still confused. “Are you okay?” She asked them. “I don’t know. I’m talking to the ghosts of my friends who just passed. I must be feeling quite peachy” they said sarcastically

“Hey, there’s need for that tone. We’re just worried” Adam adds. They went silent now, and felt a pang of guilt now. “Adam if they don’t want to tell us, then let it be, okay?” She says, which makes him look back at his wife. “You’re right. I’m sorry” he says the sorry part as he’s turning to face them again. They were no longer there

“What the hell. Where’d they go?” Adam asked Barbara. “I’m not sure” she responded as he looks back at her. They were going up the stairs without making any noise. They made it to the attic, and opened the door. The feeling was much stronger feeling up here than it was downstairs in the living room

They noticed the model of the town and smiled. It was quite refreshing to see something that made sense today, considering all of the strange and unusual things that have happened today. But that’s when they noticed the inside of the house model was lit up. “Looks like I’ve finally gotten your attention” an unfamiliar voice says

They looked down, and saw a small man in the model. They get down to his level, and started to admire him. “I was wondering when you would finally come up here. I’ve been waiting a while for you to come up here” he admits as he now takes in their beauty as well. “Yeah? Do you have a name?” They asked

Soon a note pad pops up, and he’s writing his name down 2 times. He hands them the paper once he was done. The paper becomes the size of what it’s normally at. They say his name twice, and then looks back at him. He’s grinning now, and they say it a third time. He’s out of the model, which gets them confused

He taps their shoulder, which gets them to turn around. They blushed at the closeness the two shared. Adam and Barbara were meeting with Juno, who had to pull through couple down to speak to the two away from them. Juno is warning the couple as they were naked, and getting fucked in the ass by Beetlejuice

They were grasping onto the edge of the model as he’s thrusting into their ass. Their head was arched back onto his shoulder, letting him mark their neck. The model however, breaks under their grasp, which makes the two go flying into the mess. They’re in the mess, and hurt. But they needed more of him to care about the pain that they were in. He gets out of their ass, and makes them laying down on their back instead of their stomach

He then goes into their pussy without warning. “Fuck!” They moaned out as his cock starts to vibrate the way they liked. Their head arches back against the mess, and their hands go onto his back. He starts thrusting even as his cock was vibrating, which makes them a moaning mess

Juno was warning the couple that Beetlejuice had been the thing that they said that they felt. “Ghosts have this way of connecting to certain people, but only that person can feel the connection” Juno explains after she had explained to the couple of why Beetlejuice wasn’t a good man

“If you had more time to read the manual, you’d know this information” Juno adds as the couple hear the model breaking. “Shit. I wouldn’t go check that out if I were you. Unless if you wanna see something out of a porn film” Juno says, which makes Adam and Barbara shocked. “Shit! I tried to get you guys down here as soon as possible, but it seems like the juice is loose”

“You’re friend Is screwed” Juno says as she now vanishes. Adam and Barbara were back in the living room that used to be the couples. Beetlejuice had gotten out of them once they came on his cock. He makes the twos clothes come back on now as he helps them up. “Do you wanna know why I’ve chosen you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah” they admitted. “Because I want to marry you. What do you say? You and me get married?” He asked them as he creases their face now. Adam and Barbara walked upstairs now since the two figured it was fine to do so now. The two had gotten up there just to hear Beetlejuice ask them to marry him

The two would care about the model being broken at the moment if the two’s friend wasn’t about to agree to this. “Don’t say yes” Barbara pleads, which makes them look at her. Beetlejuice’s hand goes back to its side now as he felt angry now. “He doesn’t love you like that. He’s just-“ her mouth gets slab on it to shut her up

“He’s just-“ Adam gets sent to see the sand worm. He looks back at them, which makes them look back at him. “Say yes” he begs, which makes them unsure what to say. “Adam and Barbara just don’t want to see me happy. Do you want me to be happy?” He asked them as he puts on a frown

“I’ll marry you” they said, which makes him happy instantly

[correlance]

Say what you will about the Charlie/Alastor (Charlastor) ship, but my God, the fanfiction "Similing Man" by MuseValentine, which was completed on 3 January 2022, so thoroughly called the following:

Alastor feeling insecure and threatened by Lucifer's power.

Alastor and Lucifer having a Texas stand-off over Charlie.

Alastor being a cocky little shit about it towards Lucifer.

The "oh shit" moment of panic where Alastor realizes that Charlie is the daughter of Lucifer Morningstar, and then Lucifer going "have a seat" in order to intimidate Alastor, is also so hilariously well-written.

Art by SpicyUnicornPowder on Twitter.

Excerpt from Chapters 24-25:

The party was really turning up and he was trying his best to be mindful of the drinks so that not even a drop spilled. Thankfully, Charlie wasn’t too far away, and it looked like her mother had found her once again. Keeping a careful eye on the refreshments in hand, Alastor beelined his way back to her, where she smiled at him once more when he returned to her side.

“Oh, you’re back!” he heard her say, and finally safe and still, he looked up to once more greet Charlie’s lovely mother and engage in a polite conversation with the two ladies.

And that’s when Alastor realised then that there was somebody else with them.

And he froze.

“Alastor, I’d like to introduce you to my father….”

This was impossible.

A cruel twist of fate.

There was no way this could be so.

Alastor wasn’t sure what was going on now, but what he did know was that in the short amount of time since he looked at him, his heart started racing and his tongue went dry, as did a familiar but unsavouring tinge of anxiety hit his guts, causing his nerves to start going off the edge, making him feel like the smile he had on was starting to crack.

Oh, how he must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

No. He probably looked more like the night they’d first met when all bloodied and crazed from the high of two kills on that corner in Lafayette.

“…Lucifer Magne.”

Standing before him, short and blonde and dressed from head-to-toe in white in a showman-like fashion, was the Big Apple.

“Have we met before?”

Unfortunately for Alastor, it had to be thrown right at his face.

“No, I don’t believe we have.”

But life was funny like that, wasn’t it?

“Strange,” the man – Lucifer – remarked with a tilt of his head, eyes studying him curiously. “You’re an awful lot familiar. Swear I would have remembered you anywhere.”

The mocking glint in the man’s eyes, watching the way he was bluffing, it all made Alastor’s nerves go on a frenzy while he remained still and stone-faced. The man was bluffing – Alastor was made and he knew it. He knew the stakes that were at hand here for him, considering the circumstances.

“You might have heard of him, Daddy,” Charlie quipped with a smile. “Alastor’s a radio host. A very good one too!”

But under all sorts of circumstances, did it have to be the one where he turned out to be the father of his goddamn neighbour?!

“Oh! I thought you sounded familiar!” Lilith suddenly exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “You’re the one who interviewed our darling for her hotel! Thank you for helping her out with that, by the way!”

While Lilith was somewhat gushing, her husband only quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, although the look in his eyes gave away the indication that it was something he already knew.

“A radio host? My, how interesting,” he said in a tone that seemed marvelled although it was clearly not, turning more questioning as he inquired, “Is there anything else that you do, Mr. Carlon?”

Hearing the question that, without a doubt, held a double meaning behind it, Alastor finally broke out of his stupor and cleared his throat, not realising until then how dry his mouth was.

“Nope, nothing else at all,” he answered the lie as calmly as he could, ignoring the scratchy feeling of the dryness of his mouth. “I’m quite a boring egg outside of work, I’ll say.”

The Big Apple only hummed, which might seem out of being unimpressed if not for the fact that Alastor knew better to realise that’s the bunk and he was truly unconvinced. And why wouldn’t he be? The man had seen for himself what he did outside of work. There was no point lying to him, and it was disconcerting to be standing in front of him feeling so bare despite being decked out in his best suit.

Looking away from the eyes of the Big Apple, he turned to Charlie and handed her drink, taking a sip of his gin-and-tonic to quench the cottony feeling of his tongue, although the burn from the alcohol made him wince slightly.

Over her drink, Charlie eyed him in concern. “Alastor? Are you alright?”

Hearing her concern made his grin widened instantly as if it was reflex. “Oh, yes!” he lied through his teeth, “Just that this here’s some real strong hooch.”

A laugh was forced out of him to cover up that close slip-up of his demeanour, but one quick look at her and suddenly he found it difficult to look at Charlie in the eyes, throwing him off immensely. How the tables have turned considering usually he was the one making her look away. Unnerved once more, Alastor moved his gaze away from her, and this definitely did not escape her notice.

But then Lilith leaned in to look at him with worry. “Oh, goodness. Are you feeling alright? You seem a little flushed.”

Alastor was about to give a quick response of assurance if it wasn’t for the look on Lucifer’s face that cut him short. The blond man was eyeing him carefully, watching his expressions and his movements, the corner of lips tilted up in a smirk as if he was waiting for a slip-up from him.

“Why yes, you do seem quite flushed, my friend. I wouldn’t think a simple gin-and-tonic would have such a bite on you.”

If Alastor hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that he was just poking fun at what seemed like his incapability to hold down his liquor. But he did know better, enough to quickly catch on to the last bit of the sentence that sent his nerves on end for the umpteenth time.  

Against the sinking feeling of his gut, he forced himself to stretch his grin further as he waved a hand in dimissory. “No, I’m fine,” he exclaimed a tad bit louder than he would like. “And this sure is a hooker! Been a while since I’ve had a good drink!”

The liquor did taste good, probably the most top-notch quality that bootlegged could offer. But the taste was soured by this moment, how it was all a farce on Alastor’s part, as much as it may have been for Lucifer, the both of them eyeing each other intently.

And this definitely was noticed by Charlie, who watched them quietly, sensing the building of tension in the air that came from the both of them.

But that tension was broken immediately by Lilith, who seemed to not have noticed the exchange as she was busy looking elsewhere. “Darling, I see that Stolas has just arrived. Goodness, he seemed to have brought that little toy of his instead of his wife! How scandalous.”

For that moment, Lucifer moved his attention away from Alastor, smiling kindly to his frau. “Now, my love, we shouldn’t stick our noses into his business. Let him have his fun. Shall we say our ‘hello’?”

Seeing that this was the end of their little meeting, he moved to his daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he patted her head affectionately, and Charlie preened at this loving fatherly affection. A sight that would have made Alastor glad to see her so happy if it wasn’t for the fact that it was almost unbearable to look at the both of them together now.

And then a hand came to his shoulder in a friendly pat, immediately irking him from being touched but unable to do anything about it. From the corner of his eye, the Big Apple was looking at him with his lips pulled back into that familiar chilling grin, hidden from his wife’s and daughter’s view and given specially to him.

“Relax, my friend,” Lucifer said cheerily, an undertone clearly noted, “Enjoy the party, yes?”

Alastor could only watch as he linked his arm to Lilith’s and walked away. Despite the noise and activity that was going on around him, he felt like he had hit a standstill in time, his mind racing down a trail of spiralling thoughts, unsure of what to think or feel at this moment, amazed yet disturbed that he didn’t know.

”Alastor?”

Charlie’s voice calling his name in concern broke him out of the almost train wreck of his mind as he turned to look at her with unreadable eyes that did not give way to the turmoil inside him.

“I hope you don’t mind Daddy…” she said reassuringly, looking quite fretful.  “He’s a little intimidating, is all.”

A ‘little’ was clearly such an extreme understatement.

[...]

“Have a seat, Mr. Carlon,” Lucifer gestured to the seat opposite his and his desk, and Alastor accepted the invitation willingly.

An intricate silver cigarette casing was taken out from his jacket’s inner pocket, popped open and held out to Alastor, who took one with a nod of thanks. A stick to his own lips and Lucifer took a lighter to graciously alight both their cigarettes.

Alastor took a second to himself to enjoy a much-needed puff as Lucifer circled around the desk back to his armchair. “Are you feeling better?” he asked politely, making himself comfy in his seat.

Exhaling another puff that seemed like a relief to his lungs, Alastor replied, “What gave you the implication that I wasn’t?”

“The look on your mug when you saw mine.”

And just like that, it seemed the smoke did no use to ease him any longer, watching as Lucifer’s face split into a wide grin, laughing softly with a shake of his head. And yet, this was not all that shocking to him, taking a silent breath to himself as he willed his tense body to move, leaning forward to flick the ashes of his cigarette on a nearby ashtray.

“So, we’re dropping the pretence now, I assume?” Alastor questioned blankly, putting the cigarette back to his lips.

 “You’re not really someone easy to forget, Mr. Carlon,” Lucifer noted casually with the flicker of his own cigarette ash onto the ashtray. “Or should I just call you ‘Alastor’, now that we’re very familiar with each other?”

“Call me anything you want. Either one’s my name anyway.”

Lucifer only hummed in agreement, and quickly after, a silence ensued. Both men did not talk, just sitting across each other, focus on only their own gaspers within the silence of the study. But while Lucifer was reclining on his chair looking elsewhere, Alastor’s eyes were fixed on him – watching, waiting, anticipating, even though he had no clue what to expect at all.

And that bothered him to no end.

“Come now, no need to be so tense,” Lucifer suddenly broke the silence in a reassured tone. “Did you enjoy the cake, Alastor?”

A strange turn of a conversation, but one Alastor kept up with as she politely shook his head. “Didn’t take a slice, sorry. I’m not a fan of sweets.”

Lucifer looked almost disappointed to hear that. “Oh? What a shame. It’s a lovely cake. Pineapple upside-down. Very fashionable. My wife picked it out.”

Taking a drag before exhaling smoke in a puff, he continued almost mellow-like. “Ah, my Lilith. Such a catch, isn’t she? How I do love her so dearly.”

Alastor only nodded along, keeping a polite smile on his face. Any egg would know better than to show much enthusiasm when a man was talking about his wife, so he kept the niceties to a minimum in this strange atmosphere, still simply watching and waiting.

“Do you know who else I love dearly, Alastor?”

And just like that, Alastor immediately felt his smile dropping just the slightest.

“My daughter.”

Lucifer took a last drag, smoothly blowing smoke out in a smooth stream before butting it out on the ashtray, and that’s when his eyes turned to look at him, narrowed into dangerous slits that seemed reminiscent of a snake ready to pounce.

“Which is why I want to know how exactly did she manage to wind up with you.”

If looks could kill, then Lucifer was intent to do so, withdrawing from under his desk a revolver.

The silence in the room could have been quiet enough to hear the way Alastor’s heart dropped right to the floor as he stared at the bean-shooter aimed right at his head.

Even after he felt the last bits of his cigarette turning to ash and falling to the floor, he was too frozen to even move to discard it on the ashtray. In his standstill, his eyes remained on Lucifer, whose glare only seemed more menacing against his grin.

“Well?”

“We’re neighbours.”

It was the truth, so what else could he have said other than that? But judging from the way his eyes widened in slight surprise, the answer clearly wasn’t what Lucifer was expecting. Then again, maybe it’s how he answered so blankly that threw him off. Alastor couldn’t be too sure at which.

“Apologies if it isn’t as exciting as you might think I had more dire intentions,” he apologised for no reason in particular, “but it is as simple as that.”

The revolver unwavering, Lucifer rested his head on his free hand, looking thoughtful. “That’s not really much of an answer.”

“She’s the one who invited me.”

“And there she was, looking so shy and bashful when she wanted me to meet you,” Lucifer said with a hard edge to his voice, as if the words that left his mouth left a disgusting taste on his tongue at the thought of it. “So, is this some sort of sick plan of yours, then?”

Without a doubt, Alastor was taken aback by the blatant accusation that was directed at him.

“To be completely fair, I had no idea that she was your daughter,” he explained. “I think you yourself could understand that from our very inopportune meeting earlier on.”

Lucifer laughed as if the memory of that meeting was humorous to him, and Alastor couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit peeved that he seemed to be laughing at him. He didn’t appreciate really being taken for a joke, even with a revolver pointed at right between his eyes.

“Well, now you do, so what then?”

“What makes you think I’d want to do anything to Charlie?” he countered back, almost challengingly as though to make a point for himself.

Lucifer may have definitely seen the agitation on his face, looking more bemused as he leaned forward, the revolver inching closer to Alastor’s head, but the radio host he remained calm, not even flinching in the slightest as he continued to observe.

“No need to play coy with me, friend. I’ve seen the stunt you’re able to pull. The way your eyes dilate with the thrill of the kill. Almost seems like you think of it as some fun game!”

Alastor couldn’t help but huff in amusement, his face not denying the truth in the man’s presumptions, which only prompted him to continue with, “So, is that what you’re intending to play with Charlie?”

The room fell into a hushed silence again, as Lucifer waited for his answer and Alastor staring blankly at him.

One would not have felt the spark of irritation that was growing within the man in the red suit. The way Lucifer prompted curiously, pressing him to spill, it admittedly agitated Alastor. He didn’t like having to be given the third this way, especially with the revolver pointed right at his face, as though mocking him into submission.

An inkling in him saw this as a sort of cowardice, that he’d have to whip out a heat just to have some show of power to intimidate him in the slightest. How absolutely obnoxious, he’ll say!

And so, vain and cocky in true fashion, Alastor couldn’t help but bite back even in the slightest, confident and without resistance, doing so with a sharp grin.

“If I wanted her dead, she would’ve been long gone before you even met me.”

Now, that definitely seemed like the wrong thing to say.

Alastor watched as the look on Lucifer’s face shifted, turning darker as his eyes narrowed, his grin starting to become a tad bit more tighter, clearly having a chord struck in him, the murderous intent burning more as the seconds passed by quickly.

Well, quite understandable really, considering he just up and dared indirectly said he wanted to have the curse on Charlie.

Yet, the words that followed the expression had no match at all.

 “You know, Alastor, you remind me of a deer.”

His darkening aura started to lighten up as he regained his composure, and the sudden change in the conversation only confused Alastor once more. He was probably getting whiplash from the constant turn of events that he had endured for the just the past hour or so, too stupefied to say anything now. No response came, only silence in waiting for the continuation.

“You don’t seem like so, but such a bravado that exists within you. So poised and elegant, like a buck with impressive antlers – an assertion of power and dominance. How you bring yourself so confidently that it seemed like you rule above all, that nothing could bring you down.”

A loud click suddenly resonated in the room, coming from the hammer of the revolver that’s been pushed down and ready for ignition.

And just like that, Alastor was startled, eyes widening as it darted to the tip of the barrel that was still aimed steadfastly in the middle of his forehead, focus only on that instead of the crazed grin on the Big Apple. It probably wasn’t loud, but he could hear the hammering of his heart resonate loudly in his hearing, almost blocking out the next seething words that followed.

“But put a gun right on them and it’s just an act, revealing nothing more than prey.”

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Choose Your True Love: Part 4

Part 3

♡———♡

Gilbert: ...That's a very tempting offer, but...

Gilbert: But... I'm sorry.

Gilbert: When I leave the castle, people die.

Gilbert looks "worn out" with dark circles under his eyes and a pale complexion, but he dismisses the idea of rest with the same refreshing smile as always.

I couldn't say anything.

I was frustrated by my own powerlessness.

I gripped his black mantle tightly, as if to vent my swirling emotions.

Gilbert: It would be fine if the rotten ones were dying, but he kills indiscriminately.

Gilbert: If someone doesn't keep him in check, Obsidian will eventually run out of people.

Gilbert: I wish he'd be a little smarter. Ah, I want to kill him.

Roderich: ...Prince Gilbert.

Gilbert: Heh, eventually, right?

(...When I met him, Gilbert said he didn't love anyone.)

(But maybe it wasn't that he "didn't love," but that he "couldn't love.")

(If he loved someone, he couldn't stay sane. This is that kind of country.)

(...And Gilbert loves people.)

How much did Gilbert suffer until his heart became numb to death?

He must have experienced the feelings I'm having now dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

(After all...)

(After all, it's not right that Gilbert isn't rewarded.)

Gilbert: Why are you crying?

Emma: ...I'm not crying...

I try to deny it, but my cheeks are wet.

My vision is blurred before I know it, and I can't even see Gilbert's face properly.

Gilbert: I'm sorry, did I scare you? This is difficult...

I shake my head vigorously and wipe my tears with my sleeve.

Emma: No, it's not that.

Emma: I just... I just want to be someone who can protect you.

Gilbert: Hmm? Who?

Emma: ...You, Gilbert.

Gilbert: That's a strange thing to say.

Gilbert: Ah, but we're close in the future, right?

(When I was explaining my situation to Gilbert, I didn't mention it because I thought it might confuse him, but...)

Emma: ...We're engaged.

Gilbert: To me?

Emma: Yes. I'm your fiancée.

Gilbert: ...Oh.

Emma: That's why I want to be someone you can rely on when you're in pain or suffering.

Emma: Even if it's not possible right now, someday...

(Obsidian will be reborn by Gilbert's hands in the future.)

(But the Emperor's wicked policies are still leaving their mark everywhere.)

(It seems like Gilbert is still fighting in the shadows in the future.)

(And I know he's trying to keep the dirty things away from me as much as possible.)

I'm still not mature enough for Gilbert to rely on me.

I've always been aware that my knowledge and skills are immature, but seeing the past has made it even clearer.

(I can't stay the way I am.)

(...I want to change.)

(To someone who can be relied upon like Roderich and Walter.)

(To someone who can face that hellish scene alongside him...)

Emma: I want to be someone who can protect you, Gilbert.

I declared it clearly once again.

Gilbert's eyes widened slightly, and his smile disappeared.

Gilbert: You should stop. What I'm doing is the same as what he's doing.

Gilbert: In terms of the number of people I've killed, I'm second only to the Emperor.

Gilbert: There's nothing about me that you could love--

Emma: I know.

Emma: ...I know everything.

Gilbert: ...

Gilbert: I see.

Gilbert: Ah, as I thought... I want to kill my future self.

Gilbert gently shook off my hand and finally left the hideout.

He never looked back.

That was a sign of the trampling beast's resolve.

(...Ah...)

My vision blurred, and my body swayed.

Roderich, who was standing nearby, noticed something was wrong and immediately supported me.

Roderich: ...Please lie down. The medicine must be taking effect.

Emma: Medicine...?

Roderich: It's a sleeping pill. ...Just in case you try to follow Gilbert.

(Gilbert... lied to me.)

(Come to think of it, he also lied to the Emperor... saying I was his "pet"...)

(He hates lies... but he lied to protect me.)

(Both Gilbert in the past and Gilbert now...)

(He loves people more than anyone else, even though...)

-

I must have been dreaming.

(...It was a terrible dream.)

I woke up in Gilbert's room, where he was absent, with a book as my pillow.

It was a nightmare that made me sweat so much that my clothes became cold, and cry so much that my eyes swelled up.

Fragments of the dream still remain in my mind.

When I come to the square of Obsidian Castle, I remember that cruel scene.

Obsidian Soldier 1: Hey, did you hear about tonight's dinner? There's one healthy dish designed by Professor Walter.

Obsidian Soldier 2: What?! No way... We're going to die.

Obsidian Soldier 1: Should we run away?

Obsidian Soldier 2: No... Gilbert gets angry when it's a healthy meal. If we get caught running away, we'll be killed.

(...It's peaceful.)

The soldiers, noticing me, hurriedly saluted and walked away quickly.

There were no traces of red blood in the square.

Since I started living here, there hasn't been a single execution.

The soldiers are relaxed enough to wander around chatting, a completely different scene from the one in my dream.

(I used to think this was a normal sight.)

Even so, this peace is a testament to the victory that Gilbert won after a harsh battle.

???: ... You little cheater.

Emma: !?

Suddenly, I was embraced from behind, and when I turned around, my lips were bitten hard.

Emma: Gi, Gilbert... When did you...?

Gilbert: You were exchanging glances with a passing soldier just now, weren't you?

(It seems like he's been watching me for a while.)

Emma: I looked away the moment our eyes met and ran away at full speed...

Gilbert: That's too rude to you, isn't it? I can't forgive that.

(This is a difficult question to answer...!)

I kiss Gilbert, who looks sulky.

When I look closely at his handsome face, there are no dark circles under his eyes and his complexion is good.

The air around him is not tense, but calm.

Gilbert: Did something happen?

Emma: Why do you ask?

Gilbert: You were staring at the square with a troubled look on your face, weren't you?

Emma: ...You were watching me the whole time?

Gilbert: That's mean of you not to notice me.

(This is fun.)

(...Just this much is enough to fill my chest right now.)

I turn my whole body around and put my arms around Gilbert's back.

Emma: It's not that anything happened. I was just savoring the peace, so to speak...

Gilbert: ...Hmm?

Emma: That's right! Gil, I was studying until a while ago, but there's something I don't understand.

Emma: Would you mind helping me with it?

Gilbert: Oh, I'd love to cuddle up with the cheating little rabbit right now.

Emma: I'm not cheating. ...Is this not good enough?

I quickly check that there's no one around and stand on tiptoe to kiss him again.

As his cold lips warm up, the dream fades from my mind.

Gilbert: It can't be helped.

Gilbert: I'll teach you while we cuddle.

Emma: I don't think that will help me study...

Gilbert: What was that?

Emma: ...No, thank you. I'll do my best!

Gilbert laughs amusedly and starts walking, holding my hand.

The dependability of this hand hasn't changed, past or present.

(All I can do now is acquire weapons to protect Gilbert, one by one.)

(...Study hard, learn more about Obsidian...)

(I want to be a support for Gilbert, who became a villain for the sake of others.)

(I want him to be able to live peacefully from now on, instead of carrying everything on his shoulders alone.)

I squeeze his hand back.

Strongly, tightly, so that we'll never be apart again.

(I will create a world where the Conquering Beast can be at peace as a human.)

(There's no more need for blood in Gilbert's future.)

FIN

.

.

.

. Thank you for reading! | YouTube SE in JP

If you have all 4 Parts for another Prince and would like to have them translated, or help everyone out by letting me translate them here, please feel free to message me and send the videos to me!

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[tidaldiariessimblr]

🏝️Time on Island: Day 45

AN: Longer Chapters Ahead Folks!

I can't believe I'm losing to a fish.

Out of sheer boredom, I taught Ioannis how to play Rock, Paper, Scissors, and I’ve lost the last four rounds. What the hell? Flopping back, I threw my hands up in defeat.

“I give up. You’re good at everything,” I groaned, letting my head sink into the soft sand.

Ioannis laughed, a deep, melodic sound that stirred something in my chest. He tucked his tail beneath him and leaned down to meet my gaze.

“Oh, is that so?”

Giving him the rudest side-eye I could muster, I sighed dramatically.

“I’m BORED.”

“Surely, there must be something else we can do to entertain you?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

I rolled onto my stomach, propping my chin in my hands as I gazed out at the endless expanse of ocean. “I miss my phone,” I muttered, the mere thought of it making me feel even more restless. It had remained in my jean pocket while the ship went down, but it was broken and completely waterlogged—totally unusable.

His brows furrowed as if he was conflicted.

“I could…” he started, his voice trailing off as he seemed to contemplate something.

I glanced at him, curiosity piqued. “You could what?”

“I could grant you the ability to breathe underwater.”

“Wait—what? You can do that?” I sat up, shocked.

“Temporarily,” he clarified, his tone serious.

“Can we do it now?”

“Of course,” he said, although the playful spark in his eyes dimmed slightly. “But you must understand one thing: you have to remain near me. The ocean can be…unpredictable.”

I nodded eagerly. “Okay.”

He took another deep breath, his features suddenly taut with concentration. I could sense he was stalling again, and it only deepened the knot of anticipation twisting in my stomach.

“So how do you—” I started, but he interrupted me.

“As I have mentioned, it is only temporary, but I will need to provide you with breath.” His tone was matter-of-fact, and he paused, as if giving me a moment to fully grasp the implications of what he was saying.

Huh?

He had to give me breath?

He had to give… me… breath.

My mind screeched to a halt.

OH.

He had to give me breath.

So, his mouth and my mouth…

“Oh,” I stuttered, suddenly feeling a rush of heat spreading across my cheeks. “You— you have to put your—”

“Indeed,” he replied, his brows raising slightly as he regarded me patiently.

I nodded in agreement and despite my heart pounding in my chest I trailed behind him as we ventured into the water.

When he turned and moved closer to me to…transfer air, I silently prayed he couldn’t see how flustered I truly was. His fingers brushed against my cheek, and he pulled back for a moment, hesitation flickering in his eyes. Would he really go through with this?

Then, in an instant, his cool, wet hands cradled my face. Until this moment, our encounters had been marked by fleeting brushes of the hand or my leg against his tail while swimming but never something so overt. His steady gaze bore into mine, electrifying and intense, leaving me breathless and questioning everything I felt.

“Just concentrate on me,” he said, his voice calm.

Okay,” I said weakly.

“Hold your breath.” 

And then, he pulled me under. 

The water embraced us, cool and refreshing, and before I could think, he was drawing me toward him, sealing his lips over mine. 

The moment our lips touched, a rush of air bubbles filled my lungs—both strange and exhilarating. It was as if I was sharing a part of him; his breath mingled with mine, seamlessly intertwining our worlds in that brief moment.

It’s not a kiss. It’s not a kiss. It’s not a kiss.

He pulled away and I opened my eyes to find his gaze fixed on me.

“Breathe,” he urged, his voice ringing clear in the water like a bell.

I took a deep breath—and though it was water, it felt as effortless as air.

“Well?” Ioannis asked, his tone almost bashful.

My grin couldn’t be contained, joy bubbling up within me. “It feels… amazing! I can breathe!”

I saw the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glimmer that promised adventure beneath the waves.

To Be Continued...

˚꩜🐚🌊🔱🫧꩜˚

First | Previous | Next

[tell-me-a-tale-that-tells]

HIS EVERLOVING DARK STAR

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Summary: Hancock encounters a vampire woman and slowly fell for her.

Pairing: John Hancock (Fallout 4) x Vampire OC

Type: request

Warnings: blood, sex, chem use

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The thunderstorm in the wasteland is not an easy business.

Besides deafening sounds, the blinding flashes of lightnings, the radiations are the ones that will kill you for sure.

Unless you're a ghoul, then you can stay out in the open, under the poisonous rain, like it's a fricking day at the spa.

Hancock is doing just that, smoking on the balcony of the town hall.

He doesn't know what the hell he's smoking but it must be good because it's doing wonders with his nerves.

He glances behind him, checking on her.

Oh, her.

John wonders every day what he had done to be worthy of having her in his life.

Her long body sprawled on the couch, wearing only a thin night grown.

She takes a hit of Jet and then, feeling watched, she looks in his direction with a warm smile.

Yeah, he feels like the luckiest bastard in the whole world.

Their encounter was, for sure, the strangest of his life.

In a pitch-dark night, when not even the most remote star dared to show itself in the sky, he was returning home from the third rail.

The rustling of garbage in an alley picked his attention, it's not that in Goodneightbor there aren't cats or rats, but one can't be never sure.

He cocked his gun, ready to shot, just in case.

Hancock turned left and freezes on the spot.

On the ground there was an Assassin, his throat slit from ear to ear, his unseen eyes still open.

The figure crouched down on him halted their movements, raising their hands at the sound of the first shot.

"Wait! Wait don't shoot!" She yelled and John realized that the girl's hands were covered in blood.

"Besides doing me a favor, killing off that bastard, tell me why the fuck I shouldn't make a hole in your head" John hissed.

"Let me explain, please" The woman answered, slightly turning her head.

Hancock could see that even her mouth was red, smudged with fresh and glistening blood.

As she turned around, he pointed his gun right between her eyes "Sister, I'm afraid cannibals are unwelcomed in my town".

She narrowed her brows, looking confused and offended "I'm not a cannibal. I wasn't eating him; I was drinking his blood."

John could have laughed at her tone because she spoke those worlds like it was the most obvious thing to say.

"And what does that make you, uh? A vampire?" He smirked.

"...Well, yes" she stated.

Maybe he was way too drunk or high for that.

"Listen. As I said, I have to thank you because that man was only causing troubles and he met the end he deserved. But I can't let you go so easily; you could hurt some innocent" he lowered his gun anyway.

"Are you a... sheriff or something?" She smirked, raising an eyebrow at his strange attire.

"I am the mayor, actually. John Hancock" he tipped his hat.

"Nimue" she answered back, her stained lips curling in a smile.

Since that encounter their days have been a crazy rollercoaster.

He tried to arrest her twice, keeping her in jail was basically hearing her hissing and complaining about the heat.

If Nimue is truly a vampire, John can't tell, she could be just a crazy woman with a very serious iron deficiency.

Sure, she drinks a lot of blood, but she uses also a lot of chems.

He like that part a lot.

Nimue can handle chems better than him, she needs at least twice the dose he takes to have the slightest effect, but when she's high...John blesses the Gods if there are any.

She's crazy when sober, her chatting and easygoing nature is so refreshing in a town like Goodneightbor or in every other town she steps in.

She seems rough and dangerous on the exterior but once one knows her better, they can appreciate her light side.

When she's high the things change, she's almost predatory, sensual and sinful but never in an unsettling way, there's always a sweet side peeking under all that dominance, a certain softness in her eyes.

Their first time together was unforgettable for both of them.

She was dancing around at the Third Rail, her body swaying to the nonexistent music.

Hancock had never seen anything like it.

He was mesmerized by her movements, the way her long legs seemed to glide over the floor.

"C'mon, Mayor. Why don't you join me?" She giggled 

As Hancock watched Nimue dance, he couldn't help but feel his desire for her growing.

 He'd always found her captivating, even in her most unpredictable moments.

With a smile, he stepped close to her "I'm afraid I can't dance" he said softly.

"Neither do I" Nimue stopped dancing and turned to face him, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

She walked up to him, her fingers brushing lightly against his chest as she reached out to take his hand.

She lifted his arm, turning underneath it, and then placed her other hand on his shoulder.

"Like this," she murmured, guiding him through a few slow steps.

Hancock was surprised at how natural it felt to move with her, even if it was just a simple dance.

She was so close, their bodies swaying together in perfect harmony.

Hancock could feel his heart racing as he looked into Nimue's eyes and her intense gaze seemed to pierce right through him.

The chemistry between them was palpable, and Hancock couldn't help but lean in closer. 

"John..." Nimue whispered, "I think that I... might have feelings for you," Nimue admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She stepped back slightly, breaking the intense moment they had shared. Hancock was taken aback by her confession.

He'd always known there was something between them, but he hadn't expected her to admit it so openly." Hancock felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he processed her words.

"Nimue, I... Are you sure? You don't really want to be stuck with this ugly face" Nimue giggled softly at his comment, but there was a touch of sadness in her eyes.

"Oh, John," she said, reaching up to caress his scarred skin "You're anything but ugly."

Nimue’s mouth was just a mere inch from his as she spoke "I don't care about your scars, John. You are strong, resilient, and brave. You spared my life and gave me a home, and for that, I will always be grateful."

The kiss was intense and passionate.

Hancock couldn't believe it, but he was kissing Nimue.

His heart raced as he deepened the kiss, his hands running through her hair and down her back.

She responded eagerly, her hands slipping around his waist and pulling him closer.

One of her razor-sharp teeth cut his lip and Nimue gasped an apology, she looked at the small cut on his lip.

Her eyes were filled with regret, "I'm sorry," she said softly "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Hancock smiled, trying to reassure her, "It's alright," he said, gently tracing the cut on his lip with his finger "It's just a small price to pay for such an amazing kiss."

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

Nimue burst out in a laugh “Always so quick with a comeback, aren’t you?" She leaned in closer to him, their breaths mingling as they shared another intimate moment.

"What do you think if...we take this elsewhere?" Hancock looked at Nimue, his heart racing with anticipation.

He nodded slowly, his voice low, "Yeah, I think that could be a good idea."

"At mine or yours?" Nimue's question caused a smile to spread across Hancock's face.

He liked the idea of them being together in a private space, just the two of them.

"Mine" he replied, reaching out to brush his hand against hers. 

The way to the town hall was interrupted many times by kisses.

The moment they stepped inside, the tension between them seemed to rise even more.

Hancock closed the door behind them, locking it tightly.

He turned to face Nimue, taking in every inch of her beautiful face.

Then everything was a blur of chems and alcohol and Nimue drinking blood from a sack before sitting on his lap.

"Are you hiding a knife or you're happy to see me?” She smirked.

Hancock chuckled at Nimue's playful banter.

He reached for her hand and led it towards his pocket "Well, this is actually my knife," he said before moving her hand over his crotch "and this definitely isn't it"

“And what do you plan to do with it?" Nimue looked at Hancock, her eyes filled with mischief and lust.

When she didn’t hear Hancock respond, she leaned closer to his ear "I'll tell you what we will do...", Nimue's words were soft "We're going to make love until the sun rises and then..." Nimue's words trailed off, leaving Hancock hanging on her every word "We will do it again." 

John could only nod and smile, trailing his hands up and down her body, caressing her back and sides.

Nimue sighed contentedly, her eyes closing and her head tilted back, exposing the pale column of her neck. 

John's hand wrapped around it, not squeezing but simply resting before his mouth joined in, propping a trail of wet kisses that made Nimue gasp.

Her hands slipped under his shirt, touching his roughed skin with a reverence and marvel that John couldn't believe it.

"Take this off, please” she asked.

He's self-conscious about his appearance, he knows very well what people think of ghouls and how repulsive they look to most of them.

It was rare to find someone who accepted them outside Goodneightbor, but Nimue couldn't care less about stupid people's minds.

Her eyes started on every new inch of exposed skin like it was a holy revelation.

She began to kiss and lick, occasionally grazing her teeth without biting.

John's mind was a haze of chemicals and arousal, he bet she felt his hardened member pressing at the worn fabric of his pants.

Like she was reading his mind, Nimue started to grind her hips on him, moaning softly in his ear.

John's control finally snapped.

He raised from the couch, taking her with him and carrying her to his bed.

He laid her on the raggedy sheets and sat in front of her. "You're still wearing too much" she murmured against his lips.

John chuckled, removing his boots and pants.

Nimue sat up, removing her red sparkling dress, exposing her body to him.

In his fogged mind he still could think that that didn't feel like a fling, one of the countless times he took someone in his bed just to never see them again the day after.

 Now both in their underwear, it didn't take too much before they slipped the last articles of clothing off from each other bodies.

"John, please. I know we have all the time we want but...please" Nimue's pleading words made John's heart race, and he couldn't resist her any longer.

He slowly lowered himself onto her, feeling their bodies meld together as he slowly entered her.

She gasped, her eyes closing in pure bliss.

It was John's turn to moan once he bottomed out, feeling every inch of her warmth surrounding him.

They started to move in unison, their breaths becoming ragged as pleasure consumed them both.

Nimue arched her back and gripped Hancock's shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

In her long life, she never felt anything like that, she thought about it as John's strong hands held her hips tightly, moving rhythmically against her.

She could feel every inch of him inside of her, his rough skin creating a delicious friction.

When John filled her for the first time with his release, she couldn't do anything but following him over the edge, her long legs shaking from the force of her orgasm.

"John," she gasped, kissing his neck above his pulse "Again." Hancock rolled on his back, taking Nimue with him and positioning on her on top, "Work for it" he whispered playfully.

John's heart almost exploded as he watched Nimue's body bouncing on him and shake with pleasure, the sight of her breasts swaying entranced him and he cupped them in his hands, squeezing gently.

He felt a surge of pride knowing that he was the one who brought her to this state.

Her grip on him was tight like a vice, the drag of her inner walls was enough to make him lose his mind.

His hips bucked up, urging her to go deeper, to feel every inch of him. 

His climax was building shockingly fast, and Nimue could feel it too.

She smiled down at him "Coming so soon?" she teased, biting her bottom lip playfully.

Hancock groaned, his muscles tense underneath her "You're killing me, Nimue."

She leaned down to whisper in his ear, "I could say the same about you, my love."

The rest of the night was a frenzy of passion and love, as the nights that followed.

Day by day, night by night, Nimue remains by his side on the highs and lows, always the faithful, unpredictable companion.

After months of living together, John and Nimue's relationship had evolved into something deeper and more meaningful.

They shared everything, their joys, their fears, their secrets and their love for each other only grew stronger.

John is reflecting on all that, still smoking his cigarette on the balcony, it's been years since they met and both of them hasn't changed or aged a day.

Nimue makes a 'come here' motion with her finger, giggling and slightly raising up her nightgown in a sensual and inviting manner.

John shakes his head amused, "I thought you had enough for tonight" he says, walking towards her.

Nimue smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

"I always have room for more," she purred, nuzzling her face against his chest.

"After all," she continued, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye, "we have all the time in the world."

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Clementine Kisses

Chapter Seven of the Through the Scope Series | Chapter Eight

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.8K

Chapter Overview: You wake up in a strange bedroom and investigate

TW: smut !! oral (f receiving), f in v, p in v, depictions of breasts but without their size

Notes: now i know this isnt a gif of frankie, but i am the law of the land and i want to use it. okay LMAO we finally made it to the smut hehe i mean i feel like yall knew this was coming tbh,, i havent written it in a while so i might be a bit rusty, but im still pleased with how it turned out. its just so much fun to write. as usual ... my asks are always open & happy reading <3 (oh and listen to lemon boy by cavetown bc it was on repeat while i wrote this chapter)

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Your head is spinning, but your body is so comfortable. When did your shitty mattress get this soft? Without even having to open your eyes you can tell that the sun is up. You must have forgotten to close the blinds when you got home last night. Wait a second…you don’t remember coming home. Still choosing to keep your eyes shut for fear of seeing a stranger next to you in bed, you hoist the covers up and over your head. Maybe if you just pretend you didn’t do anything stupid last night it will become a reality. 

You inhale deeply, slightly wincing at the throbbing in your head, and your eyes pop open. It may be pitch black under the sheets, but you are starting to see things more clearly. You know this smell. It’s a smell that has haunted the deepest corners of your mind since you first encountered it. Since you first encountered him. It’s musky, but not in a dirty way. It fills your nose and soothes the anxiety you felt creeping its way into your belly. You breathe in deeply again. There were subtle hits of…tire rubber? Well he works in an auto body shop so that checks out.

You decide to hold your breath to see if you can hear anyone breathing softly beside you. A few seconds go by with the only sound being the steady beat of your heart. Hoping that you correctly assumed that you’re alone, you peel back the covers to reveal a foreign sun lit room. You look beside you and breathe a sigh of relief when you see that the right side of the bed has been left undisturbed. As much as you wanted to have sex with him, that was definitely something you wanted to remember. Using your elbows as support, you scoot your body into a sitting position and lean your back against his headboard. Looking at the nightstand beside the bed, you see three things: a glass full of water, two tylenol pills, and a small slip of paper. Without thinking twice you pop the painkillers in your mouth and chase them down with the now room temperature water. Nothing has ever tasted so refreshing. You trade the empty glass for the piece of paper. Aloud you read what it says.

You fell asleep in the truck. I’ll explain everything in the morning. On the couch if you need me. -Frankie

He had drawn a little smiley face next to his name. You laugh quietly to yourself as you set the note back down on the small table. Looking down you see your shoes neatly placed in front of it. There is a shirt you don’t recognize folded and carefully placed on top of them. You reach down and unfold it in your lap. 

“Hmm.” You run your fingers over the faded design on the front of it. “Fleetwood Mac. You have good taste in music, Frankie.” 

After giving the room one final once over to make sure no one is inside you shimmy out of yesterday's shirt and bra and dawn the one left out for you. Then you throw the rest of the covers back, climb out of bed, and take off your jeans. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t have any shorts for you. His shirt comes to rest a few inches above your knees as you start quietly tiptoeing around his room. You know snooping is wrong, but you just can’t help yourself. Your still socked feet guide you over to a thin, vertical bookshelf that sits directly in front of the side of the bed that you slept on. Dust has started to collect on the shelves and the books themselves. You run your fingers across the spines of them until you see one that peaks your interest. 

“What do we have here, Frankie? A Helicopter flying handbook?” 

You slide the heavy duty book from its seemingly perpetual resting place and crack it open. A lot of the pages are dog-eared and highlighted to high heaven. You close it and set it back where you found it. As you look closer you see that the majority of the books he has relate to helicopters, aviation, and the mechanics of flying aircrafts. A pang of sadness and realization shoots through you as you realize that you know so little about him. You know so little about what he did when he was on missions, fuck, you didn’t even know that he knew how to fly. But you want to. You want to know everything there is to know about him whether it be big or small or beautiful or ugly.

Moving over to his dresser, curiosity building, you see a group photo. You pick it up and you mentally name Frankie, Santi, Will, Benny, and who’s that? A gruff looking man smiles and has his arm around your coworker. He appears older than the other men he’s standing with. You’ve never met him or even heard the guys talk about him before. Right as your mind starts to pick apart who the fifth man in the photo could be, the sun reflects off something else on the dresser and catches your eye. You set the photo down and look for the culprit. When you find it, you feel your knees get weak. Sitting on top of a familiar looking post-it note there is a beer bottle cap. You gasp to yourself as you pick it up. This must have been the cap of the beer that he opened for you when you attended the fights with him. You thought you had seen him slip it into his pocket, but you figured that it was just because that was an easier alternative than leaving to throw it away. He saved it as a memento and kept it by your number. Two things that another man would consider trash, he kept and cherished. 

The smell of coffee tickles your nose and you can hear faint clanging coming from the kitchen. You decide that you have been hiding and snooping long enough, so you set the cap down and make your way to the door. The room you were in appears to be on the left side of the hallway. You walk quietly down the hall and notice that the walls are barren. The noises get louder as you close the space between yourself and the kitchen. His house’s layout makes you walk through the living room, which has the front door, before you reach the kitchen. There’s no door when you approach so you’re able to see Frankie engrossed in his task. Well, his back to be more precise. He has on a tired looking t-shirt and some boxers. One side of his hair is sticking up in a way that causes you to stifle a laugh. For a man that slept on the couch last night, he seems to be quite chipper. His low humming only makes that fact more apparent. You get comfortable by leaning against the shared living room and kitchen wall, but it’s short lived. The man in front of you turns around and bursts both of y’alls bubbles of ignorant bliss. 

“Oh!” He’s holding a mug in each hand. “Good morning! Or I guess it’s technically the afternoon now.”

“Good morning to you too.” You follow him when he beckons you to join him at the kitchen table. “So…do I want to know how I ended up here?” 

Frankie watches as you sit down across from him at the table in his shirt. If he’s being honest it makes his cock twitch to see you like this. He is in awe at how beautiful you look after waking up. Sure, your hair is wilder and your mascara is smudged, but fuck if you aren’t a breath of fresh air. He finds himself getting irrationally jealous that his bed was the one that got to hold you while you slept. He wanted to wake up to that face in the morning. Every morning.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He slides a mug over to you and scratches the back of his head.

“If waking up in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in and then being greeted by a cup of coffee is bad, then I don’t ever want to end up in a good looking situation again.” 

His shoulders relax when you say this, as if he was anxiously waiting to see how you would react to the situation. “Well, Pope and I tried to drop you off at your apartment, but you didn’t have your house keys in your tote. So, this was the next best option.”

“Oh my God! I knew it seemed lighter than usual when I left the gym! Damn, Benny for rushing me last night.” 

“Your bag is over on the entryway table if you want it. It’s got your phone.”

“No, I’m alright.” You say before sipping your drink. “I’m in good company.” 

He looks at you bashfully before indulging in his own cup of coffee. You take the cozy silence as an opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s oddly reminiscent of yours. No art, no decorations. Save for a small basket of fruit on his counter. The only room that has given you a glimpse into his mind has been his room. 

“Did you,” He follows your eyes. “Did you want an orange? I can never get around to eating them in time and it would be a shame for them to go to waste.”

“How about we share one? I’ve never been very hungry when I first wake up, but I’ll make an exception.” 

He stands just enough to give himself the extra length to reach the fruit. You take it from him when he offers it and start peeling. When you finish, you split it in half and offer one side to him. 

“I told you that you enjoy taking care of people last night.” You eat one of your citrus slices. 

He tries to look nonchalant as he mirrors your actions. “Maybe there is some sense to all that star stuff you like. Tal vez eres una estrella.”

“And what makes you think I’m a star?” Your stomach feels like it's made of knots. 

“Well…you have this brightness about you.” You can see it in his eyes that he’s struggling with telling you what he's thinking. Not because he doesn’t want to say it, but because he doesn’t know how to. “I seem to see you most often after the sun has already gone down, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know that you’re there when the sun is still up. Sometimes, I get lucky enough to see you during the day.” 

You breathe in a shaky breath as he presses forward in his explanation. 

“I find myself getting sucked into your gravitational pull whenever I’m around you.” 

Both of you have unconsciously started to lean towards each other.

“And you’re…”

“I’m what, Frankie?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” It comes out shakier than you intend.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he hears your reaction to his confession. “I’ve been in awe of you from the moment I met you and every moment after, mi estrella.” 

“My star.” You repeat what he just called you in spanish. You have to do something to distract from the intense feeling of bawling that suddenly consumes you. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He stands up and cups your face in his hands.

“Say you mean it.” You say looking at him.

His deep pools of chestnut trace your face as he stares back at you. “I mean it, mi estrella. Every syllable.”

You stand, his hands still in place, and kiss him. You finally kiss him. There is no way that you could have waited any longer. His lips mold with yours hungrily. As he opens his mouth to you, you can taste coffee and sweet oranges. You can’t help but moan into him when he slides his hands down your body to cup your ass and pull you tight against him. His teeth catch your bottom lip and pull on it gently. He groans when your own hands snake their way up his chest and wrap around his neck. You intertwine your fingers in his thick curls, grateful that you now have unbridled access to them without his cap.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” His chest heaves against your body and you can feel him hardening against your bare leg.

You open your mouth for him again and tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth and you eagerly let him. The sounds he’s making while he palms your ass are sinful. You feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought of the sounds he will make while he fucks you. He scoops you off the ground and your legs wrap around his waist as he sets you down on the table. The cool wood sends a shiver through your body that makes him smile against your lips. 

“I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom.” He sounds like he's in pain. 

“That makes two of us.” You gasp as he starts to work his way down your neck.

Desperate to quell the growing ache in between your legs you grind your core against him and feel him shutter.

“You want this just as badly as I do, huh?” His breath is hot against your skin.

“I want it so bad.” You bring his face back up to yours and sloppily kiss him. “It’s all I can think about.”

His hand answers your prayers when he starts to rub circles on you through your underwear. He swallows your wanton cries with his mouth. You feel him laugh against you and you already know the cause of it.

“You’re so wet for me and I’ve barely laid a finger on you, cariño. How is that?”

He slides your underwear to the side and easily slides in a finger. You have to lay your head on his shoulder as he curves it up inside you and hits that sweet spot.

“I would have-” Your breath is stolen for a moment when one finger hastily becomes two. “I would have let you do this to me at the bar. Would have let you make me come with your fingers while everyone sat around us.” 

“Fuck.” He whines into your hair. “You’re so filthy. Not caring who’s around or who could see what I’m doing to this sweet pussy.” He removes his fingers from inside of you and you whimper at the loss. You watch, mystified, as he places them in his mouth and licks each one clean with greed. “Lay back for me. I need to taste the real thing.”

His eyes are glazed over with lust right now. The ache in between your legs is so painful and you are desperate for reprieve. You immediately do as he asks and lay your back down on the kitchen table. You take the liberty of lifting your shirt up and exposing your breasts to him. The way he is looking at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. His eyes wash over your body and you can’t help but squirm underneath his gaze. He leans down and takes one of them in his mouth while he forcefully cups the other. Your back arches when he catches your nipple between his teeth. Never one to neglect, he works his mouth to the other one before he trails his lips agonizingly slow down your body. He peppers kisses right above the start of your underwear and you can’t help but buck your hips up towards him. 

“Patience is a virtue.” He chides looking up at you through hooded lids.

“Please, Frankie.” You plead with him. You hope he can see how badly you're hurting. “Please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore.” 

He smiles to himself as he shifts his attention to what's right in front of him. His thumbs hook into the fabric and he slowly starts to pull them down.

Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

You both freeze and hold your breath to see if the sound was imagined. When its unholy ringing comes again, he rests his forehead on your stomach.

“I’m going to kill them. I’m legitimately going to fucking kill them.” His beard tickles your skin as he speaks. 

“Who-who is it?” You’re trying to catch your breath.

“The guys.” He doesn’t move his head from where he laid it to rest. “They are here to watch the basketball game.”

“Open up, Fish!” Benny yells as he raps on the door. “I know you’re in there, you bastard! Your truck is in the driveway!”

Frankie all but growls as he pulls your underwear back up and helps you sit up straight. If you didn’t know any better you’d think that Benny’s a dead man. You reluctantly hop off the table as Frankie tells them he will be there in a minute. 

“Why don’t I answer it?” You gesture down to his now very strained shorts. “You can change while I handle them.” 

“Oh fuck me.” He rolls his head back.

“That’s what I was trying to do! Now go, go!” 

You push him towards his room and start to head for the door. Two steps in and you feel a strong hand grab your arm and pull your body back. He captures you in a desperate kiss before he releases you. 

“This isn’t finished.” 

“Patience is a virtue, Frankie.” You wink.

He sends you to the door with a spank and heads into his room. You scurry to let everyone in as another round of banging starts.

“Hey guys! Long time no see.” 

They don’t look the least bit shocked to see you greeting them at the door. Pope must have filled them in about the events of last night on the way over. They all greet you with a tender kiss on the cheek and lug their various bags inside the house. You tell them that Frankie is just finishing changing and that he’ll be out shortly. 

“How’d you sleep last night, hermosa?” Pope sets four cases of beer on the kitchen table. The very sight of it causes heat to rise in your belly again.

“Oh umm good? I slept good!”

“Yeah I guess that would explain why your hair looks like it was caught up in a tornado and you have a crazed look in your eye.” Benny snickers. 

“Consequences of last night's actions at the bar.” You shrug leaning back on the sofa.

“There he is!” Will walks up to Frankie as he enters the room and pulls him in for a hug. 

When they break apart his eyes immediately fall on you which causes the rest of the men to follow suit. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how little clothing you have on. 

“Why don’t I put on some pants?” Your cheeks are burning under all the attention and with the knowledge of what almost happened.

“You don’t have too.” Benny offers casually as he lays takeout boxes down on the table. “It’s good practice for when you’re in the ring.” 

“Now I’m definitely going to put on pants.”

You hush the guys as they hoop and holler at you while you head to Frankie’s room in search of yesterday's jeans. If you didn’t know they meant it with love, those would have been the last sounds they uttered.

“She looks mighty relaxed here, Catfish.” Frankie is shocked that Will is the first one to address the elephant in the room. Usually he stays out of silly things like this, but you must be an exception. “Well, except for when Benny decided to poke the hornet's nest with that comment about her hair.” 

“Her hair? What about it?” He looks behind him where you disappeared. “And keep your voices down.”

“Be serious, man.” Pope cracks open a beer. “She looked so frustrated when we walked in. Like she’s a string that’s wound too tight and is this close to snapping.” He emphasizes his point by snapping his own fingers.

“I didn’t think she looked upset.” Benny sounds so confused.

“Not frustrated as in upset, you fuckin’ dolt.” Will looks at his brother with genuine annoyance.

Much to Frankie’s horror he watches in silence as understanding washes over Benny’s face when all the pieces click together in his head.

“Catfish, I’ve never known you to be a man that leaves a woman unsatisfied.” Benny remarks.

“Well that wouldn’t have happened if y’all had come just a little fucking later.” 

“That’s probably my fault.” Pope looks at him sheepishly. “I was anxious to see what unfolded after you dropped me off.” 

Frankie can’t help but chuckle at his friend's excitement. “Nothing ‘unfolded’ after I took you home, hand to God. She was dead to the world when I brought her inside and tucked her in. She didn’t even wake up until 30 minutes before y’all arrived.” 

“Now swear something wasn’t happening while she was awake.” Pope smiles knowing damn well he has Frankie cornered.

“I uhh-”

“Okay I’m presentable looking now.” You walk into the room and immediately notice Will, Santi, and Benny fighting back laughter while Frankie flounders in front of them. “What the fuck have y’all done now?” 

“Just some good ol’ fashion teasin’, hon.” Will waves you over. “You’re going to stay and watch the game with us, right?” 

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” You start.

“You’re not!” Frankie is quick to say.

“Yeah! We want you to hang with us!” Benny voices enthusiastically.

“All these beers aren’t going to drink themselves.” Pope waves his hand dramatically over the booze. “Plus, your car is still at the gym. It looks like you’re stuck with us.” 

“You got me there. I guess it’s only fair that I listen to y’all talk about basketball since y’all listened to me talk about the stars.” 

“Atta girl!” Will pulls you into a side hug while the rest of the boys cheer, Frankie included. 

***

You watch happily on the couch as the men around you take turns yelling at the television and then at each other. Thankfully, you knew how basketball worked so you were more than capable of keeping up with what was going on. You and Frankie sit right next to each other on the couch the entire time. Throughout the game they would all jump up and cheer when their team made a basket, but the second you sat with your legs crossed and had your knee touching Frankie, he happily realized he could better encourage the players from a sitting position. After the game ends and all the food is eaten, you get questioned about how you usually spend your Sundays off.

“It used to be similar to this. When I was living with Robbie back home,” You laugh when you notice the raised eyebrows from Will, Frankie, Pope.

“Robbie is a girl. Calm down y’all.” Benny explains.

“Anyway, when I was living with Robbie back home, we would pile into one of our beds with wine and snacks to watch shitty reality TV. We definitely had our fair share of times yelling choice words at the screen and contestants.” 

You’re met with immediate disbelief that reality TV could invoke those kinds of emotions. Instead of verbally pleading your case, you take the remove from Frankie and use it to open up Hulu. You find your favorite show and your favorite season and hit play. 

“After a single episode y’all will be eating your words.” 

When it ends Will is too angry to speak, Frankie is asking you ‘why that dude with the buzzed hair choose the girl in the yellow bikini over the girl in the pink bikini?”, Benny is fully convinced he would dominate at the show, and Pope is begging to watch the next episode. Completely surprised they all loved it, you play the next episode and snuggle deeper into the cushions. You rest your arm on the back of the couch and play with the ends of Frankie’s curls. Electricity shoots through you each time you feel his body tremble under your soft touch. You all only realize how late it's gotten by the time the season is halfway over. 

“Shit, I gotta be up early tomorrow to talk to some vets at the VA.” Will says as he stands. 

Pope and Benny follow his lead and stretch as they do it. You pat on Frankie’s leg and get up as well. Picking up the trash that has collected on the coffee table, you take it to the kitchen to dispose of it. It doesn’t take Will long to expertly gather up both his things and the men he brought with him. You and Frankie walk them out and send them off with sweet goodbyes and promises of doing this again soon. 

“See you at work tomorrow!” Benny calls back to you from the driveway.

As soon as you close the door, you can feel the energy shift in the room. 

“I thought they would never leave.” His voice is gravelly. 

When you look up at Frankie, he’s already staring down at you with the same look he had in his eyes earlier this afternoon. 

“I could barely hold it together with you teasing me like that. Did you enjoy it? Feeling me suffer under your fingers?”

He’s already got his hands on your hips and is pulling you flush against his body. You let out a low whimper as his mouth finds its home on yours. Your smile against him is answer enough to his question and he nips at your bottom lip in response. 

“Now it’s my turn to make you suffer. To drag it out until you’re begging me to stop.” 

He lifts you off the ground and you find yourself in an all too familiar position with your legs around his waist. You can feel him start to walk somewhere, but you can’t be bothered to look as you suck sweet red marks under his jaw line. Hearing him moan loudly only adds fuel to your fire that was never properly put out earlier. Each time he takes a step, the buckle of his belt rubs against your throbbing clit. You wriggle your body against his as best you can to generate as much friction as possible. When the light behind your eyelids fades, you know exactly where he has taken you. You feel him come to a stop and detach your lips from his neck and admire your work. Those rosy marks will definitely be there in the morning. 

“Hi.” You whisper as you turn your attention to his face. 

“Hi.” He says in the same hushed tone. “I’m going to give you an out. I should have done this this afternoon, but I-I got so caught up in you that I couldn’t think properly. If you don’t want to do this, tell me right now and we can pretend like it never happened. No hard feelings. I just don’t want you to do something you regret tomorrow.”

“Frankie,” You reach up for his hat and throw it to the floor so you can run your hands through his hair. His eyes flutter as you touch him ever so tenderly. “I don’t want an out. I want you.” 

His eyes water ever so slightly at your words. Like it was the first time he had ever been truly craved by another person in his life. It makes your heart crack at the thought. You lean in and capture his lips. They are so pliant against yours. It feels like they were made for you and you alone.

“Do you want me?”

“More than anything.”

“Then show me.”

He tosses you down on the bed and the plush comforter cradles your body. In an instant each of you are ripping off shirts and haphazardly unbuttoning pants. You look up at him, only in your underwear, and take all of him in. His strong arms, broad shoulders, a stomach that you can’t wait to feel rub against you. The lower your eyes go on his body, the harder he gets under his boxers. You squeal when he wraps his hands around your ankles and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. He never breaks eye contact as he kneels down in front of you. He starts slowly at first, kissing you through the fabric barrier. Adorning your thighs with his tongue and soft nips from his teeth. Your quiet moans fill his ears as he finally removes your last stitch of clothing. He chokes at the sight of your weeping cunt before him. You spread your legs wider, beckoning him to take a taste. 

Your cries bounce off the bedroom walls as he buries his face in between your thighs. His tongue works in ways that you never thought possible. You ball up the sheets beside you in your fists as he laps at you relentlessly. Breath stolen with each wicked sound that pours out of his throat. His hand removes itself from your thigh and climbs its way up your writhing body. In an effort to remain tethered to the earth you grab on tighter to him than you thought possible. 

“Fuck, Frankie,” You’re drunk off of him. “You feel so good.”

“And you taste even better.” 

He takes your clit in his mouth and your back arches as two thick fingers glide inside you. If this is his idea of suffering, you wouldn’t mind spending eternity in hell. Your legs start to tremble, but he is unwavering. Drinking you up like you were the first sip of water he has had in years.

“Come for me, mi estrella.”

He holds your hand through your climax. The two of you moaning in unison as you drench him. He doesn’t detach his mouth from you until your body has ceased its shaking. Only when you're struggling to catch your breath, splayed out on the bed, does he retrace his path back up your body with his lips. His beard is glistening with your slick as he lowers himself to kiss you. The taste of you is prominent on his tongue when he slips it into your mouth. You wrap your arms around him and pull the rest of his weight on top of you. You can hear him growl in your ear when you start to move your hips underneath him. 

“Take them off.” You mewl. “I want to feel you. All of you.” 

He pushes off the bed frantically and sheds the last of his clothing. God, he was much bigger than you originally thought. You move your body upwards on the bed so you can lay on a pillow. You watch, mouth watering, as he starts to crawl his way back towards you. He licks his palm and uses it to stoke himself. The profane performance in front of you causes your mind to go blank. He lowers himself in between your legs again and you can feel his tip at your entrance. You can only mutter incomprehensible words as he sinks himself deep inside you. You wrap your arms back around him to keep yourself steady as you feel your walls stretch around his length.

“You’re so fucking tight around me, cariño.” His face is inches from yours. “I’ve got to move, okay?” 

You answer him by bringing your lips up to kiss him. Your whimpers are muffled by his mouth as he sets his pace. Each stroke is more detrimental than the previous one. Your nails bitting into his back only serves to motivate him as he continues. 

“You’re so big. I can feel you everywhere. Frankie.” 

He sits up just enough to allow himself room to rub your clit. His face fluctuates between concentration and bliss. 

“Are you going to come for me again? Come for me all over my cock?” His fingers rub tight circles and you can feel yourself quickly approaching.

You nod in response to him.

“I can’t hear you. Use your words.” He demands.

“Yes,” you pant. “I’m going to come for you. Only for you.” 

Frankie is trying to keep himself from finishing before you do. He wants to make sure you at least finish twice before he even considers it. He brings the hand he was using on you up to his mouth and spits on it before connecting it to you again. The sounds that are coming from you are making it increasingly difficult to stay focused on his task. He looks down at you while he continues to pound into you and work at your clit. Your body gleams with sweat, your chest is heaving, your lips are swollen from him kissing them, and your eyes…your eyes are on him. He falters for a split second under your gaze. No other woman has ever made him nervous in bed the way you have. Never has he worried that he was doing too little or too much. But with you, he wanted everything to be perfect.

Frankie adjusts your hips so he can hit that sweet spot. He knows he found it when your eyes go wide and your jaw goes slack. He doesn’t change a thing about what he is doing. 

“I’m gonna come,” You sob.

You clench down tightly around him as you’re thrust into your second orgasm of the night. It only takes three or four more pumps until he too is consumed by his own pleasure. You feel him spurt hot ropes inside you and sink deeper into the bed. When he’s done, you feel a slight sting as he pulls out. He crawls beside you in the bed and ghosts his lips over yours.

“I’m going to get a towel to clean you up, alright? Are you going to be good here by yourself for a sec?”

“I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to.”

He smiles down at you and kisses you quickly before disappearing into the bathroom. You rest your eyes while the faucet runs faintly in the background. He’s quiet when pads into the bedroom, but you feel the bed creak beside you under his weight. The towel is damp and warm against you. You sigh contentedly as he takes his time in cleaning you up as if he is sad to see the evidence of him being washed clean from your skin. When he finishes, he sets the towel down on a nightstand and pulls the covers over both of you. His arms pull your tired body against his and envelop you in his warmth. 

“That was worth the wait.” You laugh.

“I would definitely say so, but hopefully we won’t have to wait so long for the next time.”

“No, I don’t think we will.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @mashomasho @lilmizmoz @angstylittlepascal @sofiparallel @selflcontrol @adriennemichelle98 }

[sweethartlullaby]

the coffee shop where she worked

word count: 2767 genre/theme: angst, accidents, stupid situations that could have been avoided (fr) as always, imagine who you would like... sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

The first time I met her is one I like to call a core memory. 

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since he walked in. The way her hair fell across the span of her shoulders mesmerized him and her voice as she took his order was a little too enchanting for him to forget. 

His banana bread and cup of coffee were all finished but he didn’t want to leave. He had been caught staring twice in the last half an hour. He was the first to look away both times. His phone buzzed, forcing him to tear his eyes away from her and he looked at the notification. 

Are you still coming over? 

He looked at the time and cursed to himself as he left the plate and cup at the counter. He was about to leave when she asked him, “Did you like it?”

He stood still for a moment, his mind blank. 

“U-Uh, yes I did…very much…it was…the best coffee I’ve ever had!” He stuttered, the words tumbling out of his mouth uncontrollably. She looked at him strangely, a smile hinted on her lips. He could feel his cheeks warm and as soon as he saw her open her mouth to say something, he immediately thanked her again and left quickly. 

How can I face her again after that?

And when I saw my chance, I took it. She said it was a good thing I did.

“...to apply?” 

“Sorry?” He hadn’t been paying attention to the older woman speaking for God knows how long now. She sighed and shook her head before she handed a form over to him. 

“You’re here all the time. I figured you were looking for work.” He stared at the piece of paper for a long time while he debated it. He had loads of free time and this would definitely be better than sitting in front of his television for hours. 

But the possibility of having shifts with her made him hesitate to write his name down. What if she told everyone else about him? He looked towards their kitchen. What if they were all laughing at him in there?

He took a deep breath. No, that was just his head. No one was laughing at him. She was nice to him. There was no reason for him to panic over anything at all! 

“Are you applying?” A soft voice, too familiar to not send his hair standing, made him look up. She was looking at him curiously and he found his heart beating a little too quickly for comfort. He could smell her from how close she was. 

“Well,” She rested her elbows on the counter and then smiled at him. 

“The hours are really flexible if that is what you’re worried about.” Her apron was on. He hadn’t noticed her come in for her shift. He must have been staring at the paper for too long. 

“Besides,” She nudges over to the older lady from before. “She’s really nice.” 

He looked back down at the paper but only because he couldn’t take looking into her eyes for too long. His fingers fidgeted with the pen for a moment before he looked back up at her and smiled nervously.

“You promise she’s really nice?” He swore he saw her eyes light up before she burst into laughter. It was one of the most refreshing things he had ever heard in a while. Watching her made his own lips turn into a grin. She looked even better with a smile on her face.

He started working there the next Monday. 

I know how to make a tiramisu cake because of her.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were here already.” 

He was reading through the recipe when she walked in. She placed her bags on the counter and put her head through her apron before approaching him.

“Yeah, I just didn’t want to be late.” He murmured to himself before he looked up at her. And she was in front of him, back faced towards his body with the two loose strands of her apron hanging below his waist.

“Can you tie me up?” She asked and he took the strings before tying them into a ribbon with shaky hands. He tied it loose enough so she would be able to breathe. Once she had made sure that it was a good fit, she turned to the kitchen counter and looked at the recipe.

“Looks like we have tiramisu and strawberry cheesecake for today.” She read out as she nodded to herself.

“It’s your first time baking, right?” She asked him, to which he nodded with a tinge of shame.

“Well, it’s pretty simple! And tiramisu doesn’t require any actual baking so don’t worry!” She chirped and he found himself smiling along with her. 

He watched carefully as she whipped the cream and he helped in mixing and stacking the layers of shortbread and cream on top of each other. She was patient and she was gentle when she told him about the mistakes he made. She was a great teacher and he realized he was nervous for nothing. At the end of their two hours, she went to open the shop as he placed their pieces up for display. 

This was their routine for months. They opened the shop together every two days. He got to know more about her, such as how she always kept a clean workstation as they baked, and how she liked to measure everything to perfection except for the vanilla extract. He noticed that on her bad days, she would keep to herself, not humming a single song or murmuring the recipe to herself. And on the good days, she wouldn’t mind holding his hands to teach him how to knead bread or being ever so close to him so she could show the exact consistency the recipe worked best with. 

She started to look different to him too. She started to always look…perfect. He didn’t mean to exaggerate at all. He had just caught himself staring for too long too many times. She was always friendly with customers and with those that were rude or too flirty, she always knew how to deal with them too. 

“So, that’s two iced coffees with-”

“Yeah, who’s she?” He looked up from the screen and traced his customer’s eyes to her, who had just disappeared into the kitchen. 

“She’s just one of my colleagues.” He said, feeling a shade of jealousy color him. “Anyways, that was two iced coffees and a slice of cheesecake, is that correct?”

“Can I get her number?” He gripped the corner of the screen before he breathed out a chuckle.

“We can’t just give out employee numbers. Now, how would you like to pay?”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a wuss. Give it to me.” The man turned to him for the first time in their whole conversation and he was hoping his face didn’t give him away. 

“I can’t do that sir. Please pay, people are waiting for you.” 

“Whatever, I’ll ask her myself later.” He scoffed before he tossed some cash onto the counter and moved away. While he sorted out the slips of money, he held back the urge to mutter insults and pushed himself to smile for the next customer. 

Moments later, he heard her call out an order. 

As if instinctively, he tore his eyes away from the customer and looked to see the man leaning over the counter to speak to her. 

“...matcha latte.” 

“Sorry?” Focus, if she wants to date him, that’s her choice! You can’t tell her no!

The customer repeated their order and he took it down hurriedly, so he could look at them again. But before the customer finished paying, he heard a giggle from beside him.

That was all he could think about for the rest of his shift. 

“What’s up with you today?” She asked as the both of them packed their bags. It was lunch, which meant a change of shifts.

“Hm?” He turned to her.

“You seem so tense.”

“Oh, no it’s nothing. Are you heading home?” 

“That depends…” She stepped out while he held the door for her. 

“On what?” It was a Friday. He would usually find a new restaurant to try today but something in him told him to just go home and binge his comfort show.

“On what you’re doing.” He would have missed it if he hadn’t been captivated by everything she did. The slight twinkle in her eye as she expectantly looked at him and…was that a smile she was trying to hide?

“Uh-” He dragged it out for too long because she started to shake her head and wave the air around her as if to erase what she had said. 

“Never mind, I am-”

“I go look for new restaurants to try.” He blurted out and everything seemed to pause for a moment before she burst into laughter.

“Do you want to go try a restaurant with me?” He asked slowly and she nodded. His heart did a thing. He wasn’t sure if it was a flip, or if it was his stomach, or the butterflies coming back alive. But was suddenly conscious of every single thing about him, now that she was looking at him. And not just with her eyes but the same way he had been looking at her for months now.

“What was on the menu today?” She asked as they began walking.

“I usually…wait, weren’t you talking to that customer today?” He asked. As much as he wanted it to be true, he needed to be sure.

“Oh, him? Nothing happened. He asked for my number and I said I was interested in someone already.” 

“Oh,” It was almost comical, how fast his moods switched. But then she laughed again and he stopped in his tracks.

“What?”

“It’s you dumbass.” She faced him, cheeks flushed and the widest smile he had ever seen on her.

“I’m interested in you.”

We never wanted to rule the world. We were happy in our circle, with the cafe and our daily lives. I wouldn’t have wanted anything to change.

She suddenly sat up from the bed, face flushed from worry. 

“What is it?”

“They’re closing down the cafe.”

“What?” He was beside her now, looking at the same tiny screen she was. Apparently, the owner had sold it to a huge company hoping to build their office in that neighborhood. 

“No, this can’t be real.” She got up from their bed and threw on her jacket before running out of his house. He was still hopping on one foot, trying to push his foot into his other shoe as he chased her outside of his home.

“Wait!” He called as he jogged up to her. When he held her by the shoulders, he realized how heavily she was breathing. 

“Baby,” He said softly.

“They can’t just destroy it. It makes no sense. She loves that cafe, she would never give it up like that.” He couldn’t blame her. Yet even though he could feel his own sadness creeping onto him, he knew he had to be there for her.

“I know, but let’s not storm out there right now okay? I’m sure she has her reasons and I don’t think we can understand her right now. So why don’t we just-”

“You don’t get it!” She shook off his grip, breaths escaping her heavily.

“I’ve been there longer. I know what it means to her, what it means to all of us! I can’t just stand by and watch it all collapse!” 

“I do get it.”

“No, you don’t.” She shook her head before she began to march again but he immediately stopped her.

“What is it that I don’t get?” He asked with brows furrowed together. When she didn’t answer, he sighed.

“I get that I haven’t been working there as long as you have. But don’t you think it’s a bit harsh to tell me I don’t understand where you’re coming from?” In the most gentle way possible, he explained himself to her. 

“Just let me go.”

“No, we are not doing this right now. You need to calm down and once we clearly know what we want to say, we can go.”

“You’re being such a boy!” He pulled himself back and his grip on her shoulder loosened. 

“I have nothing else besides that job. She was the only one to take me in. How can you tell me to calm down?”

“I-”

“I’m not asking you to come with me.” She hissed. He felt as if he was talking to a stranger entirely. He could feel anger rising in him. How could she say that about him when he had only done what she asked? He never pushed, he never forced. He waited until it was right. He waited until she gave him the green light. To be reduced to the likes of a child was something he would expect from a parent, not from his girlfriend. 

“Just leave me alone.” She stormed off and he was too stunned to follow her. He stood out there alone until his legs were able to move again. He didn’t want to chase after her. He wasn’t sure how to speak to her when she was like this. Everything he said could be wrong. 

So he laid in bed for hours, waiting for her return.

Except she didn’t. 

He waited for hours and she didn’t show up. Around ten, he called her. It was too late at night for her to still be ignoring him. But she still didn’t answer.

“Baby, please call me back. I’m sorry and worried. Please just answer the phone.”

“Hey, it’s me again. I get it if you’re still mad at me. But send me a text?”

“I’m getting really worried. Please call me back now.”

He didn’t count the amount of voice messages he sent. He only gave up on the phone calls when the voicemail was full. So he went over to the owner’s house and he only needed to knock on the door twice for her to answer. 

“She stopped by earlier. She was really upset but I told her there was nothing I could do.” She explained.

“I offered to drop her off but she said she could find her way back.”

“She might’ve gone back to the cafe.” He thanked her before he ran towards the building. It wasn’t too far away but he hadn’t had to run in a while. Still, he pushed himself to keep going. He needed to find her and make sure she was okay. 

Screw it if she pushes him away. He would drag her ass back home if he needed to. 

As he approached the street, he noticed the flashing lights in front of him. 

Blue.

Red.

Blue.

Red.

Breathless, he tried to snake his way around the crowd, trying his best to reach the other side. But then he sees it.

The unmoving figure that lay on the street. He began to hear whispers all around him but he wasn’t sure if they were real or not.

“Poor child, it was a hit and run.”

“What was she doing alone out here?”

The lights of the police cars and ambulance reflected against the pool of blood. He was frozen, unsure of what was happening; too afraid to know the truth. He watched as they placed a sheet over the body and just before they completely covered it, a familiar object caught his eye.

Almost as if it sparkled so he could see it.

It was hers.

“She loved. And she always said that life wouldn’t be what it is without it. She loved the cafe, her friends, and the family she had. She loved it when the clouds were dark but it wasn’t raining. She loved the idea of life in this small town forever. She never felt like it wasn’t enough for her. She loved donating the bakery’s leftovers to the shelter. She loved being the person she had always wanted to be. I hope she loved me. I hope she knows that even without the cafe, it wouldn’t have meant that everything was over. I hope she knows that we would have all been there for her, that I would have been there. I hope she knows I am not angry. I hope she is okay. I hope she knows that I will never forget her, that no one else will.”

a/n: wee-yoo! i haven't written something this long in a while. i hope you enjoyed it. i'm going to be posting this one on my ao3 too! i was thinking of making this a romcom thing but the angst just got to me :(. i hope everyone is well and i apologize for any mistakes! thank you for reading and i'll see you next time!

[minigirl87]

Moon River & Me. Llewyn Davis x F’Reader.

Summary:-

This is just a little fluffy story to celebrate my birthday. The song Moon River is special to me as it was playing on the hospital radio as I was born. It was also my mums favourite song as she saw the movie when she was young and I remember her telling me when she was a teen in hospital, the doctor sang the song for her fixing her calliper brace. And spookily, I always hear this song around my birthday.

Lewlyn turns up at your apartment at 2am. after disappearing for a month. You help take care of him. But next morning you think he's gone and get a wonderful surprise.

So this is my first Lewlyn Davis story. I enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to share and comment.

Words:-993.

2am and the doorbell to your appointment rings echo its chime through the quiet chilly rooms as you rise from your warm cosy bed. Your ginger and white cat Rami is looking up grumpily as he’s disturbed from his sleep before stretching and plopping on his side, sleeping again.

 Wrapping your thick purple and blue house coat around you and putting your slippers on, yawning as you pad into the hall, putting the light on. You knew who was at the door without even thinking. Opening the door to a rather tired and dishevelled man wrapped in almost inappropriate clothes for a freezing cold January morning.

 Looking at him, the dark circles under his eyes, the greasy bobbing ebony curls, and the strong smell of cigarettes around him. Moving out of the way to let him inside. “Come in Lew, it’s 2 am, you know” you said sleepily, trying to mask some annoyance. He looked away as he sheepishly responded “I know, sorry, but I didn’t know where else to go”

Sighing “it’s fine. I’d rather you be safe here than on the streets. You must me freezing?” Lewlyn simply shrugs “a little” shaking your head“Let’s get some heat into you” walking towards her kitchen, turning  the thermostat up and lightning the gas to boil the kettle “where have you been since you disappeared a month ago? I’ve been worried about you”

 “Here and there, no where particular’ the answers vaguely. “But I’m here now” his cheeks form the slightest rose blush to them. “yeah till you disappear again to god knows where” your tone coming of harsher in your tired state.

 His stomach grumbles loudly and with a look of embarrassment as he mumbles an apology. “I assume your hunger?” the kettle whistling in the background concocting a strange symphony with Lewlyn’s stomach.

 “I’ll get you something to get eat if you go for a bath” walking past him to the bathroom, setting the shower up and getting him towels. “I’ll the change of clothes on the bed for you, okay” Lewlyn simply nods in response and as she closes the bathroom door you almost thought you heard him say “I love you” shaking your head thinking you’re hearing things to go to start cooking something light for him.

 15 minutes later, a refreshed and relaxed man’s walks into the kitchen clean and changes. Smiling at him as he sits down “Here you go, it’s not much but should fill you till the morning” putting a plate of scrambled eggs on toast and a mug of tea in front of him. Lewlyn receives the plate and cup graciously and digs in with a contented sigh. “We really need to have a serious talk tomorrow Lew” swallowing his tea before answering with a smirk “I agree” shaking your head with a laugh “I’m going back to bed now, you okay to find your way there when you finish. Nodding his head as you stand up. You just reach your bedroom door when you hear the plate and mug in the sink and Lew’s footsteps behind you.

Next morning, you wake up in bed alone, and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Getting up with a sigh, slipping into your slippers and robe, you open the your bedroom door to the soft strums of a guitar and humming only broken with Lewlyn’s voice speaking to Rami who meowed back at his questions. You knew the tune so well. With tears in your eyes, you rush to the lounge to find Lewlyn sitting crossed, legged, wearing the white t-shirt and blue boxers as the evening before, in the armchair his guitar resting his thighs.

 As you take the scene in that’s in front of you as you lean on the door frame. “you remembered the song” smiling as a tear trickled down your cheek. At the sound of your tears, your cat runs towards you, leaning into you, comforting you. “Yeah, I do” he gets up from the chair, walking towards you, enveloping you in his arms, kissing the top of your head, his scent filling your senses. then proceeding to walk you towards the chair.

As you sit in the chair, Lewlyn sits on the arm leaning down and picking his guitar up and starts to sing

“Moon river, wider than a mile

I’m crossing you in style someday

Oh, dream maker, you heartbreaker

Wherever you’re goin’, I’m goin’ your way”

 His voice sounded like honey, soothing and smooth. He hummed for a little as he strummed away at the cords you sat transfixed at this wonderfully talented man in front of you. You adored this song. It meant a lot to you. After seeing the movie the previous month with Lewlyn for Christmas.

 Your trance broke as the timbre of his voice filled your ears still as sweet, but you hear something more the way he sounds. Something longing and wanting.

“Two drifters, off to see the world

There’s such a lot of world to see

We’re after the same rainbow’s end

Waitin’ ‘round the bend

My huckleberry friend

Moon river and me”

 As he finished singing, his cheeks were rosie, and his ebony curls bounced as he smiled at you. He puts his guitar down and takes your hand, and holds it. “I can’t keep this to me myself anymore, Y/N I love you. I need to be with you if you’ll have me?”

Squeezing his hand back “I love you too, I’ve wanted you for so long. But I didn’t.....” He leans in gently kissing you.

“I know” smiling. You kiss him back with a little more passion tasting him, the taste of coffee and cigarettes. He breaks away resting his forehead and nose against you. “Happy Birthday sweetheart, I love you.”

Kissing him back “I love you too. This is a birthday I’ll never forget.”

@melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @my-secret-shame @missdictatorme @jake-g-lockley @steven-grants-world @romanarose @campingwiththecharmings @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @guruan-is-not-here @ivystoryweaver @whatthefishh @missscarlettangel @missdictatorme @lonelyisamyw-0love @madlittlecriminal @saturn-rings-writes @madlittlecriminal @gigachadcowboy @mess-of-fandom @hon3yboy @ominoose @jayke0 @theaussiedragon @reallyrallyauthor @romana-after-dark @purelyoscar

Thank you, too @cafekitsune for the deviders and borders

[nana-kom]

Bonjour ✨️🎀

I offer you today a precious plot my friend.

imagine, Changbin who one night receives an email in his spam saying that he has been selected by the wish factory to grant him a wish from the moment he reads this email. Changbin, not believing in it, then sarcastically wishes to gain 50 kg by the end of the year. And strangely after that moment everything was put in place so that he could gain weight (closed gym, new fast food, constant hunger, a metabolism that stored fat very easily and a boyfriend who liked to see him eating so well)

How do you think he will react? 🤭

Bonjour 💜💫

Hope you’ll like it ! 🤭

Make a wish

While he should have been resting all day, all Changbin had been doing at the start of the year was administrative work and sorting documents on his computer. It's not that he didn't like it, but he would have liked to spend the day with his friends, or at least have a good meal. But as the day was drawing to a close, he was finally going to get some rest, until one of the e-mails caught his eye.

YOU'VE BEEN SELECTED TO HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE A WISH

CLICK TO WISH AND MAKE IT HAPPEN

Changbin rolled his eyes at the spam in front of him, sighed and rise from his chair, not noticing that the page had opened in his browser. He then went into the kitchen to start making himself a meal for the evening.

"Thats so stupid...a wish ? Come on. Thats never going to works...Im not that stupid Internet..." He laughs as he continues to cook. "Like I'm going to say: a wish ? Oh yes dear internet browser make me gain 50 kilos before the end of the year!" He said, continuing to laugh as he cooked himself his meal.

What he didn't notice was the page on his computer refreshing itself at the sound of his voice, then closing itself as if nothing had happened. That evening, Changbin went to bed for the first time on a full stomach: not only had he finished his meal, but the gurgling of his stomach had drawn him to his desserts, which he had just emptied from the cupboard. It was unusual for him to eat so much, especially in the evening, when he was usually careful. But his mind scrambled, taking him down a new path, a new constant hunger, and a stomach in need of food.

It wasn't long before these events occurred with increasing frequency. Changbin found himself ordering home in the evenings, having food delivered, passing a patisserie and buying a dozen before going to work, enjoying the sweets on offer in cafés, accepting meals from friends, and even cooking a larger proportion for himself. The most surprising thing was that his gym had closed, preventing him from regular physical activity, and a new feeling took over in his body, the laziness of doing sport, and his old desire for sport was replaced by the feeling of preferring to be at home and eat a good meal. What he didn't even notice in his changes was his belly becoming more and more prominent, those tshirts finding it harder and harder to contain, but Changbin didn't seem to notice. His appetite over the last few weeks had increased tenfold and he was taking a certain pleasure in eating so much, as if there was something behind it.

But even if he wasn't paying attention to all these little changes, someone, his dear friend Minho was noticing that his friend was looking a lot plumper than before. Changbin's face had become rounder in recent weeks, almost giving him a younger look, his muscular arms began to jiggle more and more as he walked, and his thighs even began to touch as he walked. It was the same for his belly, which must have been much softer, and he sometimes found himself gently massaging it as he ate, feeling a pleasure inside him that he'd never felt before. When Changbin noticed that his favorite pants didn't fit him anymore, he looked at himself in the mirror and was quite confused: how long had his face had a double chin ? And why was his belly starting to cover his pelvis ? Changbin shrugged his shoulders without really seeming to care. He then put on one of his jogging suits and joined Minho in town, who had offered to take him to a buffet, which Changbin couldn't say no to. Minho was quite observant and had noticed every change in Changbin's body, and he intended to make the most of it. Minho had noticed the changes in his friend's body, and he would have been a fool not to take advantage of the situation. After all, what could be better than his lifelong crush turning into the feedee of his dreams ?

Changbin arrived at the buffet and Minho greeted him, and headed for the restaurant's banquettes, before taking a seat opposite him. Changbin was surprised to see that his belly was touching the table in front of him, and wanted to move back, but there didn't seem to be enough space between him and the bench. Minho watched the scene unfold before his eyes with a smile, observing the way Changbin didn't really know how to live with this new body, as if he thought he was still fit and muscular.

"Something wrong binnie ?" Minho asked, Changbin lifted his head and droid again, and his belly suddenly slid under the table, finally making him some space.

"No...its just...I thought space was tight... "

"Yes thats the same for me actually...dont worry" Minho said with a smile, and Changbin felt reassured that it wasn't just him, even though Minho unlike Changbin seemed to have plenty of room to be comfortable whereas the only thing that was wide on Changbin's side was himself.

"Do you want me to choose for you? Looks like its gonna be difficult to...stand...because of the space you know..." Changbin looked at Minho, slightly surprised by his proposal, but agreed. After all, he'd already come on foot, and he didn't know why, but recently walking had become more...complicated...as if he'd become heavier somehow.

Minho wasted no time in getting up and filling plates for his friend, who was waiting patiently for Minho to bring him his food, which he was already salivating over. Minho then placed a few plates in front of him, before leaving to serve some more. Without a moment's thought, Changbin began to eat, and Minho saw him start from his side of the buffet and hurried to fill the plates, not wanting to miss out on the show his friend was about to put on for him. He then returned to Changbin and began to eat in his turn, but I couldn't help but look at Changbin who was practically inhaling his food, everything was going so fast and he almost had the impression that his friend didn't have control over his body, and if he did then he looked more like a pig than a human. Minho then swallowed and Changbin continued to fill his stomach, feeling that he still had room to put more inside, he felt so much better with so much food around him. The sushi were delicious and every mouthful delighted him, the side dishes were just as excellent and little by little his stomach demanded more, it was almost as if it was made for him to gorge himself to the max. Changbin then continued to lose himself in the food under Minho's watchful gaze, and everything came to a sudden halt when Changbin's T-shirt, far too small to contain his enormous belly, began to roll up under his breasts, revealing his big, full belly. Minho's eyes widened and he barely had time to react when he saw Changbin shrug his shoulders and continue eating as if nothing had happened, while all around them everyone had noticed this obese man gorging himself like a pig.

"Youve seems to enjoy yourself recently right binnie ?"

"Mmh...what?" said Changbin with his mouth full, Minho then stood up and slid next to him on the bench seat before grabbing his belly in his hands.

"How can you ignore this wonder, you look so cute with these big fat cheeks and that belly of yours...how did you do this to yourself ?" Changbin look at Minho a little bit confused and then look at his belly, yes he was fat but...had it changed that much?

"M'not that fat." replied Changbin as he continued to eat, not wanting to lose his rhythm, while Minho continued to gently massage his belly, allowing him to release the air that was blocking him but also to take pleasure in this now sensitive area. Minho smiled softly and whispered to himself.

"For now... "

The months passed and the relationship between the two grew, Minho continued to ask Changbin to see him and Changbin was always enthusiastic about spending time with Minho. Minho who gave him the best belly rubs, Minho who took care of cooking for him, Minho who never came without dessert, Minho who brought him clothes in size XXL and more, Minho who did everything for his little Changbin...well not that little. Because with this new lifestyle, this new way of eating, he was getting fatter and fatter, stretch marks had appeared on his belly and thighs, redecorating his body. His belly now formed a double belly, which usually protruded from his T-shirts, wings of fat had formed on his back, and his double chin had become so prominent that it prevented him from lowering his head properly. Changbin had even had to adapt his apartment to his new size, taking care to change some chairs for sturdier ones, and as Minho was practically living with him now he hardly needed to do anything to get food, simply waiting for it to come to him, and Minho had everything to fill the black hole that had become Changbin's stomach.

And finally the end of the year arrived, Changbin's body had changed drastically over the last few months and his body was now composed of pure fat, his belly fell so low in front of him, that sometimes he was embarrassed to walk, his arms also formed several rolls that jiggled when he deigned to move, yes Changbin could walked. But he changes so much that even Minho was discoing more to love everyday. And finally at the new year, when midnight came, and the year end Changbin felt as if he had come to his senses, he looked around and the only thing in front of him was a pile of food waiting for him, Minho with food in his hands for feeding Changbin and his protruding belly facing him. Changbin straightened up and hurried (well, at his own pace) to the bathroom, set his eyes on the mirror and was surprised to see himself in it. What could have happened ? How could he be so fat ? He felt like his old self has disappear, but on the other hand, it was as he'd absorbed his old self in fat as far as the eye could see. Changbin then climbed onto his scales, which hadn't been used in months, looked down and was surprised to realize that he couldn't see his feet or the number on the scale; he felt his heart pounding and flashbacks of the year came back to him as he went along. *Why did I let this happen?* he asked himself. And suddenly Minho came up behind him , confused and when he saw him on the scale he looked at his lover with a smile, finding it adorable how Changbin looked on those scales but unable to read his weight.

"Need help babe ?" Changbin turned around in surprise.

"Minho what happen to me ? How can I be this fat ? Look at that ! My belly...how can I have a double belly ?"

"It's more like a triple but whatever...I mean how would you like to be ? Skinny ?" Minho start laughing. "With the way you've been eating all this year there's no way for you to be thin."

" But...how ? I didn't... " Suddenly Changbin remember his wish. " Minho how much Im weighting right now ? " Minho looked at the scale, caressing his boyfriend as he passed, it was always a pleasure to touch Changbin's bulges specifically those on his buttocks.

"You're 132 right now...oh woh, you're such a big boy...look at you my lovely piggy..." Said Minho as he cuddled him tenderly, taking his belly in his hand and starting to play with it.

"I GAIN 50 KILOS THIS YEAR ? FUCK. I know what happen !" Changbin then said, heading into the living room before picking up his computer, followed by a confused Minho.

He then opened his e-mails and began to search through his inbox for e-mails from the past year, but nothing had turned up. Sighing, he looked at Minho, who sat down beside him and continued to cuddle him, as if to reassure him. Changbin smiled softly, it's true he'd put on weight, but in addition to his 50 kilos he'd also gained a tender and affectionate boyfriend. He then kissed Minho gently on the cheek, and Minho was quick to return the kiss, showing how much he loved him. Suddenly they heard a notification on Changbin's computer and turned their heads towards it. Changbin clicked on it and the e-mail appeared.

Did your wish come true ?

click here for one more wish, so much to gain, nothing to loose

Minho looked at Changbin, who seemed confused, and realized what must have been going on all year. Minho stroked Changbin's belly before moving his hands up to his double chin.

"No need to wish more Binnie, I'll make you weight gain myself. I'll make you into my perfect Dwaekki."

[auxiliarydetective]

AP-01: Project Apocalypse

ch. 03: I Think We're Alone Now

AP-01 Masterlist

This fic is part of the Academy Projects series, a full rewrite of The Umbrella Academy with the addition of an original character, Kassandra Hargreeves. Throughout the story, you'll stumble across a few songs. This is supposed to make the fic feel as much like the show as possible, so I recommend you don't skip them.

Warnings: Canon-typical issues, death, murder, child abuse

It was almost comical. Six adult siblings sitting in the drawing room, keeping as much distance from each other as possible like petty kids. Only Klaus seemed to be having a good time, mixing himself a drink at the bar a little further off.

“I, uh, guess we should get this started,” Luther finally said.

Kassandra almost hadn’t recognized him when she had seen him. He had grown even taller, towering over all of his siblings, but that much wasn’t surprising. What had taken her out of it was just how muscular he had become. To Kassandra’s knowledge, being in low-gravity environments meant losing muscle mass, not gaining it, and she even doubted a normal human would be able to get beefy like that. But, then again, Luther was no normal human. None of the siblings were. It was probably his super strength that made him grow like that. Puberty must have given him a little boost to his powers – or at least that was how it had been for Kassandra.

“So, I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown,” Luther continued. “Say a few words, just at Dad’s favourite spot.”

“Dad had a favourite spot?” Allison mumbled.

“Yeah, you know, under the oak tree. We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?”

“Will there be refreshments?” Klaus asked, cigarette in one hand, drink in the other. “Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.”

“What? No. And put that out, you know Dad didn’t allow smoking in here.”

“Is that my skirt?!” Allison cut in.

“What? Oh, yeah!” Klaus confirmed, gesturing at his new attire. A black sort of jacket-coat-blouse combo, silver skirt, funky necklaces. Classic Klaus. “I found this in your room. It’s a little dated, I know, but it’s very breathy on the… bits.”

“Listen up,” Luther said, pulling the attention back to him. “Still some important things we need to discuss, alright?”

“Like what?” Diego questioned.

“Like the way he died.”

“And here we go.”

Yeah, Diego… Here we go…

Kassandra locked eyes with her deal partner as Klaus plopped down on the couch between her and Vanya, throwing his arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t understand,” Vanya muttered, “I thought they said it was a heart attack.”

“Yeah, according to the coroner?”

“Well, wouldn’t they know?”

“Theoretically.”

“Theoretically?” Allison echoed.

“Look, I’m just saying,” Luther defended himself, “at the very least something happened. The last time that I talked to Dad, he sounded strange.”

“Oh! Quelle surprise!” Klaus called, gurgling his liquor.

“Strange how?” Allison asked sharply.

“He sounded on edge,” Luther explained. “Told me I should be careful who to trust.”

“Luther,” Kassandra finally said, keeping her voice firm yet soft. “Dad was always on edge. He had a habit of getting suspicious at the tiniest notion and he was a perfectionist. To top it all off, aging usually makes those things worse. Don’t read too much into it. It was probably just another of his valuable life lessons.”

“You haven’t seen him in fourteen years and you couldn’t ever read him in the first place. – You don’t know anything about him.”

“Woah, woah, hang on—”

“Klaus, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad.”

That sentence caused Allison to scoff. Kassandra was about to raise her voice again, but Klaus was faster:

“I can’t just… call Dad in the afterlife,” he complained, “and be like, ‘Hey, Dad, could you just… stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?’”

“Since when?” Luther threw back. “That’s your thing.”

“I’m not in the right… frame of mind.”

“You’re high?!” Allison almost shouted, her voice rising a fifth.

“Yeah, yeah!” Klaus giggled. “I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense?”

“Well, sober up,” Luther barked. “This is important.”

Kassandra huffed. “Okay—”

“Then there’s the issue of the missing monocle,” Luther continued without paying attention to her.

At this point, Kassandra was fully pissed, but trying her very hardest to hide it. Her joints were growing stiff, her muscles tensed up, and she wasn’t sure if the wave of intoxication swimming over from Klaus’s mind to hers was helping or making it worse.

“Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle,” Diego grumbled.

“Exactly,” Luther agreed. “It’s worthless. So whoever took it, it was personal.”

Kassandra tried again. “Luther—”

“Someone close to him, someone with a grudge.”

“Wait, Luther—”

“Where are you going with this?” Klaus chirped.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, Klaus?” Diego huffed. “He thinks one of us killed Dad.”

Silence. Deafening silence.

“Kass, is that true?!” Allison hissed.

“Yeah, it’s true,” Kassandra stated. “Open secret, clearly. And now that I’ve finally got your attention: How dare you, Luther? You’re accusing all of us of patricide over a freaking monocle? Do you know how tiny that thing is? It could’ve fallen off and slipped through the cracks. Maybe it’s in the bedsheets, between the mattress and the bedframe, under a cabinet… And even if it’s not – who cares?! It’s the day of Dad’s funeral, we’re all together in one place again, and the only thing you can think of is that someone of us must’ve murdered Dad? You’re a great brother, Luther. Really. Great work, Number One.”

“Yeah, Luther, way to lead,” Diego mumbled, then walked out of the room.

Luther muttered something, but it was too late.

“You’re crazy, man,” Klaus called, untangling his limbs and slipping off the couch, gesturing with his cigarette. “You’re crazy. Crazy.”

“I’m not finished,” Luther declared, trying to take back control.

But, by now, everyone was getting up and walking out, Klaus loudly proclaiming that he’d murder Mom next… Well… Almost everyone. After even Allison had left despite Luther’s attempt at pleading, Kassandra was still sitting there, looking up at him with large, angry eyes.

“Thanks, Kassandra,” Luther sighed.

“You know that if you had decided to keep this a secret, I wouldn’t have been able to say anything, right?” Kassandra replied. “You can’t have forgotten that.” She sighed, stretching her fingers. “Really, Luther, what happened to you while I was gone?”

“Can’t you see things from my perspective for once?”

“No. But I’ll try. Why do you think one of us killed Dad? – Besides the thing with the monocle.”

“You know just as well as I do that none of you had a good relationship with Dad.”

“That’s true. I know that even better than you because god knows I couldn’t block it out. But that’s not enough for us to kill him. Read the room, Luther. Did that just now really sound like any one of us could’ve murdered him?”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Luther scoffed. “You always know what everyone thinks.”

“It doesn’t take my telepathy to figure that out or to know that what you’ve been implying wasn't acceptable in the slightest.”

“Oh, so now you’re the saint here, huh? After what you did?”

“Not this again,” Kassandra sighed, closer to a hiss than anything. She finally picked herself up from the couch and fixed the folds in her skirt. “Listening to you now, I think you should’ve run away too. It would’ve been better for you than being stuck here for years, with no idea of how the world works.” She paused, looking up into his eyes, trying not to feel like an infant. “And for the record: I miss when we were a team. When you listened to me. When our worst problem was Dad locking Klaus in the mausoleum again and not letting him back out, so we had to sneak out in the middle of the night to get him, hoping we wouldn’t get caught. I miss being siblings.���

With those words, she walked back to her room, the clacking of her heels on the stairs nearly driving her insane. She closed the door behind her and plopped down onto her bed, letting her thoughts wander. That was one thing about her, brought on by her powers: A vivid imagination and memory. It was one of the few blessings she’d been given, allowing her to escape into the past – to the Umbrella Academy’s first mission, when everything had still been child’s play.

“Do you have the plans memorized, Number Eight?” Sir Reginald asked, eyeing Kassandra through the rearview mirror of the family limousine.

“Yes, Dad,” Kassandra replied. “Blueprints, electrical, piping, fire exits…”

“Sketchpad ready?

“Ready.”

“Start as soon as you’re in reach. – Number Six, stop hanging on to her arm and give her space to draw.”

“Yes, Dad,” Ben muttered.

Kassandra and Ben were bunched in the back with the rest of their siblings, wearing their newly finished domino masks. Well, except for Vanya, who was maskless and had been relegated to the passenger’s seat. They were all in numbered order with Luther closest to the door and opposite Kassandra. That way he could get out first to keep order and still look at Kassandra’s drawings to take the reins. To Kassandra’s left, Ben was fidgeting with the hem of his jacket sleeve, and Five was grinning widely, looking out of the window. Klaus, meanwhile, was sprawled out across where the car bent, his legs tangled with Allison’s as he looked out of the window alongside Five. Allison herself was busy fixing her hair, Diego was polishing his knives, and Luther was cracking his knuckles, watching Kassandra’s hand and pen slide over the paper to draw a perfect replica of their target building’s floor plan.

As soon as she could get a glimpse into anyone near the Capital West Bank, Kassandra started scribbling, noting down symbols and icons that looked cryptic at best, but Luther followed her sketch with interest. It was a mess of arrows and stars and squares and whatnot, the steady clicking of Kassandra changing her pen’s color like a metronome. Despite the chaos of colored lines on her sketchpad, her expression was calm and steady, her eyes fleeting across the page and covered in a slight milky haze. Finally, her pen clicked shut and she put it in its receptacle to her right.

“Alright, done,” she announced, angling herself towards her siblings and laying the sketchpad flat on her knees. She held her hands out for them. “Here we go. Your turn.”

A little awkwardly and with plenty of bickering, the siblings all moved closer together, sliding their hands under her sleeves, taking hold of her fingers, Ben being close enough to put his hand over her carotid artery, all of them just looking for enough space that all of them could get skin contact. Finally, everyone was settled, and phantom images of the bank’s insides travelled from Kassandra’s mind to theirs, helping the sketches make sense.

“Awesome, good plan,” Luther smirked. “Four outside, six in the vault, about twenty hostages. We stagger our entrance points, take the robbers by surprise.”

Kassandra nodded.

“Allison, you go first, through this ventilation shaft here. Rumor one of the thugs to shoot another, that’s our sign. I’ll go in through the glass roof above the counter. Diego, you, Klaus, Ben and Kass crack open the fire exit towards Main Street, enter through there. Diego is on attack, Klaus and Kassandra free the hostages. Ben, go into the vault.”

“Can you handle it?” Kassandra asked.

A little shakily, Ben nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” Luther continued. “Five, blink in a bit after the shots, we want that shock value.”

“We’ve arrived,” Sir Reginald announced from the driver’s seat.

“Alright, let’s roll. Kass, signal if anything changes.”

Easily said, easier done. Not even fifteen minutes later, the bank was robber-free (well, free of live ones anyway) and the hostages were running out screaming because of Ben’s powers. Oh well, that meant they were safe now, right? With glee in their masked eyes and proud smiles, the siblings emerged from the bank, lining up in order, looking over the crowd and basking in camera lights.

A little later, Vanya and Sir Reginald came to the scene, carrying coats, gloves and scarves to protect the victorious siblings from the cold air. Keeping back their urge to chatter, Kassandra and the others put on their winter gear, Vanya taking the time to clean the worst of the blood off Ben's face. Then, she was shooed away and Sir Reginald arranged the remaining children in two rows for official pictures, like they had practiced before.

“Our world is changing,” he announced to the waiting crowd. “Has changed. There are some among us, gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary. I have adopted seven such children.”

Kassandra gulped.“I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.”

Kassandra was pulled out of her thoughts by loud music blaring through the walls of her room. Of course. Of course. The walls had always been paper-thin. Judging by the waves of thoughts she was getting, Kassandra deduced that the music was coming from Luther’s room. At least the song was good.

She just sat there for a bit, quietly singing along to the tune, until she decided she might as well practice her cha cha cha steps. It wasn’t the perfect song for that kind of dance, but she’d manage, right? Her dancing was careful at first, only lightly tapping her feet on the floor, trying not to make a sound… But then she remembered how much she loved dancing, how fun it was – and if the music was this loud, she didn’t have to worry about her heels clacking on the ground, right? Absolutely. She could at least have this.

Bit by bit, she forgot about her routines, just inventing whatever steps she thought would fit, letting her body take control, the music flowing through her veins.

General Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @bravelittleflower @box-of-bats

Academy Projects Taglist: @therantsofawriterrr @come-along-pond @the-wyvern-institute @cherrybombgigi

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

[history-detective]

BlackStar ~Theater Starless translation

Season 1 – Episode 8:

Chapter 4 – (B) Side stories

Sorry this is a long one~

Side B - 6: Don't be afraid of making a decision.

(Qu, Sin, MC)

Sin: ....Did you come?

MC: He...hello.

MC: ( That shocked me!)

Qu: Wow, I feel refreshed. That was a tough pace, but it was fun.

Sin:......No, as long as you can find meaning in chasing the cold wintry wind, it doesn't matter.

Qu: Oya, MC, did you come?

MC: Ah, hello have you been somewhere?

Qu: I just went jogging for a while. I sweated so much, that I needed I shower.

MC: Did you go jogging around here?

Qu: I went in the garden. There is a running course over there.

Qu: Sin's pace is surprisingly fast. I was doing my best to keep up.

Qu: It was faster than usual, wasn't it? Is something wrong?

Sin: Nothing passes through a tube full of suffering. Only the wind that echoes in the void can reach the truth.

Qu: Uhh, umm....umm....yea.

Sin: You just needed it.

Qu: I'm not really sure what you mean but, I guess you mean that pace was for me.

Qu: Admittedly, I didn't have time to think about anything, which may have been refreshing.

Sin: .......Especially if you don't watch your step, you'll easily fall into the valley of hell.

Qu: You say such scary things.

MC: What do you mean?

Qu: Who knows? There is know way I can understand, but I know that you are worried.

Sin:.......But for your true desires, that hell may be necessary.

Qu: I don't understand even more now. Can you explain it?

MC: It's impossible.

Sin: Are you okay to stay like this? If you say it, you could solve the problem.

Qu: ......I was surprised with your bluntness. Or rather, it's very refreshing.

MC: Excuse me, do you have any problems?

Qu: I'd say it's a problem.....

Qu: Mokuren probably got into a fight with Kokuyou. That's that I am curious about.

Qu: Up until now, there has been several disagreements between Mokuren and Kokuyou.

Qu: But, this time it is different. It seems he doesn't intent to go back or to back down.

MC: Go back....does that mean he might quit?

Qu: ......Mokuren is an eccentric person. Sin, do you agree?

Sin: I guess everyone is doing whatever is necessary. There are no words for Mokuren.

Qu: That person only lives by instinct...

Qu: When I was lost because of various things, Mokuren invited me to Starless without any questions.

Qu: Mokuren probably didn't intendent to, but I was saved by him at that time.

Qu: That's why I would like to be helpful for Mokuren.

Qu: It is said that pity is not good for others. Or if your mercy becomes too much, will it become your enemy?

Qu: Who knows.

Qu: When Maica came to Starless, I didn't worry like this.

MC: While Mokuren may not be worried, Qu is.

Qu: Maybe so.

Qu: I want to respect everyone's decisions, they way they respect mine.

Qu:........Sin, thank you. I was able to vent by talking to you.

Sin: There are different types of people. You must be the kind of guy who can vent his frustrations.

Qu: You are the type who cannot vent.

Sin: Maybe.

To be continued....

After story Side B - 6: It's just a relationship.

(Maica, Rindou, Qu)

Maica: Don't you feel that the customer base of W and P is a little different?

Maica: I feel that there is a lot of fixed fans. W is better.

Rindou: Maybe so. In a sense, it is a Starless-like team.

Maica: ....Hmm--. It seems to be Starless-like.

Rindou: What's wrong, Maica?

Maica: I don't know but, Qu seems worried.

Rindou: Qu does?

Maica: Probably......somehow but....

Maica: Well, as usual he hasn't said anything to me though.

Rindou: Your relationship is also a little strange. The sense of distance is unique.

Maica: Strange? It may look like that, but human relationships are the same for a greater or lesser extent.

Maica: Something is wrong. There is no such thing as perfection.

Rindou: ......That's right.

END.

Side B- 7: Face the desire

(Menou, Sotetsu, Qu)

Sotetsu: Oh, the lessons are over now.......What are you pouting about, Menou?

Menou: Today, Qu's lesson was not really good.

Qu: Sorry.

Menou: Your heart wasn't there.

Sotetsu: It's rare for you to act like that, Menou.

Menou: Is that so? But it's because Qu's head was in the clouds.

Sotetsu: Have you been worrying about Mokuren?

Qu: Well, something like that. In the first place, it can't be helped that I am worried.

Qu: It is a problem between Mokuren and Kokuyou. It has nothing to do with me.

Menou: I certainly don't think it has anything to do with Qu, but Qu, you don't think that way, do you?

Sotetsu: Because Qu is serious. He is different to you and me.

Menou: That's right. There is something about Qu that doesn't match with Starless.

Sotetsu: That's a terrible thing to say.

Qu: Personally, I thought I was a member of Starless.

Menou: In other words, rather than being serious, Qu is more of a decent person.

Menou: In that respect, he is the same as Rindou. Different from us.

Menou: But, sometimes I wish I was on that side.

Sotetsu: Isn't it impossible for you?

Menou: I guess so. Starless is not a store that satifies your desires.

Sotetsu: It's too self- explanatory.

Menou: We're in a place where the sun doesn't shine but that means we don't have to worry about being seen.

Menou: But I eel like you've always been trying to do things properly in this store 'in the sense of being someone else'.

Qu: ......Well, I don't really understand.

Sotetsu: Because it's Menou's languague. It seems like a normal sentence, but there's something wrong with it.

Menou: I don't want to hear that from you, Sotetsu.

Sotetsu: Hahaha, is that so? I don't want to be told that by you either.

Qu: It's surprising to hear Menou talk to someone like that.

Menou: Ahaha, not really. I haven't been able to get along with Sotetsu for a long time.

Qu: But, you often go out for a drink together, right?

Sotetsu: Because the stage and drinking are different.

Menou: Join us Qu. Sotetsu you are coming, right? After the shift?

Sotetsu: Okay, I'll drink it all up this time.

Menou: I have to settle this. Qu, you better be prepared too.

Qu: Please be gentle.

Sotetsu: Well then, first I will change my clothes.

Menou: Qu.

Qu: Hm.

Menou: This is a shop that satisfies your desires. Don't forget that.

To be continued....

After story Side B-7: Don't be afraid of desire.

(Qu, Kokuyou)

Q: Hey, good morning.

K: .....It's not as usual. Did something happen yesterday?

Q: Hmm- I guess I couldn't get through yesterday after all. I drank too much yesterday.

Q: Sotetsu and Menou to invited me.

K: I can't help but feel bad about that look.

Q: It is quite difficult to determine the amount of alcohol consumed.

Q: ......Hey Kokyou, how does this store satisfy your desire?

K: Huh? What are you talking about? Are you still drunk? I'm not getting involved.

Q: Ahaha, I'm already sober. I've been thinking about it since yesterday.

K: How should I know? I will get someone to take care of you.

Q: .....my desire, huh?

END

DISCLAIMER – This is not an accurate translation! Please do not steal. Please let me know of any corrections and what I translated wrong- I may have just written what I think works best, but if you think otherwise, let me know. :)

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

I had to look up that "The House Rules" song (I've never heard that before lol), it's such a cool bop 🔥🔥

It is absolutely disheartening when the character tags are so saturated with shipping that it's like those two characters can only come in ~romantic~ package deal. Just refreshing the newly updated fics on the "Doctor Strange (movies)" tag on Ao3 is enough to see what's the preference...

Yeah I've always preferred to go for platonic stuff 😂 for quite some time I managed to put up with shipping long enough to enjoy some fics on that side, but now I'm going through a period of complete romance repulsion. In times of desperation I've even sifted through "not Steve friendly" things, but never managed it for long :P

I want to shake your hand for managing to survive as a fan of Doctor Strange, Steve Rogers and Loki while being anti Tony Stark 🤝 That must be even more rough than just not enjoying shipping 💔

At this point I should probably sign myself. Hm. Perhaps an emoji. (goes through the food emojis) I effing love nigiri. Here, have some nigiri XD

- 🍣

I'm glad you liked the song, it's a classic!

I don't use Ao3 but I can assume all his tags are with Clea. It's very tempting, not gonna lie, given that it's Charlize playing her and she's such a fantastic actress, can't really blame the fans there 😜 But from what I remember when I used to browse the site, it was kind of difficult to find something that wasn't Stephen with Christine or Stark or someone else. It's not easy to navigate when you're in the middle of a "romance repulsion" as you put it but all you see is ships everywhere. I think that's one of the reasons I stopped reading fanfic altogether.

And the worst part about this is that every time I've seen someone try to discuss the overabundance of ships, things get heated so freaking quickly. It shouldn't be so hard to try and understand each other, I'm sure shipping is great for those who do it but there's nothing wrong with someone saying they don't like romance or they would like something else or they prefer their characters to stay as friends and nothing more. It almost feels like for some people it's part of their identity and they see it as a personal attack whenever we express we prefer platonic stuff to romantic, which is a shame because at the end of the day we all want the same thing: for those characters to have a connection of some sort.

I commend you for browsing the 'not Steve friendly' part of fic though, I could never do that myself! I've tried... but I'm so biased when it comes to Steve and it would just make me mad 🤷‍♀️😂

It is rough to be a fan of those 3 and not like Stark, I can assure you. The IronStrange ship shocked me the first time I saw it and it still does, I just don't see how people can think Stephen would like Stark or worse, they claim they're the same? I don't get it, they're nothing alike. They say the same about Steve even though he spent most of the movies looking at him like he was a pest or something, but since he was never allowed to call him out in later movies (especially in IW/EG where he went from trying to stop him from murdering his best friend to calling him "Earth's best defender") it is assumed he realized his mistake and started to like him. Um... I don't think so!

Oh, and thank you for the nigiri! You're my nigiri anon now 😂👌

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Violent delights chapter 2

You follow Alastor back to his room; you've pretty much sobered up now, and a pleasant, calm feeling has washed over you; maybe he thought everything you said was a joke; he knew you had a strange sense of humor. He watched you observe the many books and art pieces he had scattered around the room. “You know that the second time you told me that you read that book “Oh, sorry,” you put back a book that caught your attention. “ no apology is needed. I enjoy your stories.” he ushered you to sit down while he set a small box on the table. Maybe you had just imagined the tense moment a moment ago at the table; you wondered if maybe he wasn't flirting with me; he is a gentleman, after all, and from a different time. “Do you ever get tired of my questions, though like about your life before and stuff ?” you asked him, lightly rubbing your hands together. He smiled lightly at you. “No, no, I don't. I enjoyed our conversations and telling you about my time; I think it's refreshing that you're interested.

" The past is an important thing, my dear. We can learn much from it.”.” I wish I could have spent more time on earth” your head in your hands signing, “those damn satanic nuns were so strict you'd think they were real nuns” You both sat in comfortable silence until Alastor cleared his throat.” So, did you enjoy the dinner earlier? I must say I was surprised at your adventurous nature”. He folded his hands on the table, looking at you inquisitively. “Oh, I don't know,” you looked away as you spoke,” you and Roise seemed so fond of it, I thought, why the hell not?”. That wasn't the whole truth; you knew it and felt he knew it. But he didn't press the issue, “Well, I have more for you to try! I keep some bites around my room in case I have the midnight cravings”. The Idea of him having midnight cravings is a little comical to you. Something so simple and domestic. It reminded you that even though the radio hosts secretly pretended to be above frivolous domestic things, he craved it. You had a clue about such things, considering your friendship's direction. You two longed for a simple domestic life at times. You enjoyed your life here for the most part, you had no desire to be redeemed and go to heaven. You had quite an animosity towards heaven.

Your eyes glossed over as you remembered your long and heartbreaking journey to where you were now. The angels had killed your angelic father for disagreeing with them and their politics and drove your other father out into the stars for his protection. Your fathers Azirphele and Crowley, angels and demons who had fallen in love on earth, angering heaven. Crowley had been a friend of Lucifer’s before the fall and helped them escape Adam's wrath when he learned of it their love. Azrapehle was created after Lilith used strands of her hair, but later, he turned into an angel because his pure heart and soul which made him her little brother part angel part human. Both of your fathers were respected liaisons between heaven and hell, which promoted meetings with each other on earth. They eventually realize they do not like their life's direction and decide to make Earth their home. Zira had realized the extent of heaven's depravity and hypocrisyy and Crowley had decided he was done spreading chaos.

Zira was no longer welcome in heaven after they learned of his betrayal, but it seems they were leaving them alone for the time being; Crowley was welcome in hell but knew that his time there was done. He had visited Lucifer and Lilith with Zira after Charlie was born. He expressed that they wished they two could have a child, but the miracles of heaven had now been lost to Zira. Which is when the Morningstars decided to offer to surrogate for the couple. After all, they both owed them a debt and with some demon magic, they could transfer Crowley's DNA to Lilith. The pregnancy was instant and only took a day or two due to accelerated magic. You were born in hell, technically making you hellborn, but your fathers insisted on raising you on earth, their home.

You would come back and visit your cousin Charlie periodically and spend weeks in hell. I was wondering if you enjoyed your time with Morningstars. It wasn't until Armageddon had taken place on Earth. Most of Hell's residents didn't understand the politics and goings-on of what happened on Earth, but your fathers had tried to intervene. Heaven had deemed Zira a traitor and killed him in the crossfire. Crowley, fearing for you, dropped you at a satanic covenant loyal to him. He instructed them to raise you until his return as he fought off heaven to ensure your safety. He also told them in the event he does not return, summon Lucifer to take them into hell. With a kiss on the head and tears in his eyes, your demon father left for the night. You never saw him again. The satanic nuns were kind and fun but also very protective. You missed exploring Earth with your fathers. The nuns scolded you for your carelessness. What if heaven had seen you, but they understood your restlessness.They had waited long enough, it seemed Crowley would not return. Summoning Lucifer, they explain the situation to him, who immediately melted at the side of you. He took you back to hell with him. She is excited that Charlie has a friend and cousin to keep her occupied. Lilith had left him, and his depression was causing him to be an absent father. He adopted you, giving you the last name Morningstar and anointing you a fellow princess of hell.You and Charlie became inseparable, caring for each other when you both had absent parents. You two were inseparable until you grew up, and you began to take your responsibilities as a princess of how much more serious than she did. You attended the hell meetings with the overlords in place of your adopted father, who you called Uncle Luci; you also didn't take any shit, You were kind like Charlie, friendly, sweet, but you also had a temper. You weren't afraid to extend your claws and swipe someone across the mouth for verbally assaulting you.

Grown now, you attended the overlord meetings often in place of Lucifer, bringing back information to him about the companies and goings and the pentagram. You didn't believe he read the reports, but he still was grateful that you brought them back to him. The overlords respected you, for the most part, understanding that you took your ranking in hell seriously. That is where you met a particular deer demon and cannibal demon. You liked both of them. You didn't get a chance to get to know Rosie as much as you wanted, as she was always quick to return to Cannibaltown to attend to her many responsibilities. Still, you had developed a rapport of affection for each other. On the other hand, the dear demon was a little more hesitant to get to know you, cautious to anyone he let in his inner circle, but you had grown on him.

You were usually waiting until the meeting was over. Both of you would walk back to your car, gossiping about the events of the meeting. Before long, you both would stop for tea at a nearby cafe and decompress from the meetings. He enjoyed your company. He learned of your time on earth and your family; you knew very little. You turned into his radio broadcast every night with fascination. This was short-lived because his chair was empty at the meetings one day. Soon, days passed and weeks, and you believed you'd never see him again. A strange longing began to creep into your heart. You missed his company, And unbeknownst to you. He missed yours. He enjoyed that he could relate to you on so many levels.

Despite your rank in hell, you were lonely; many people disliked the Morningstar family due to Lucifer's absent nature. So, of course, it was amazing when you showed up at the hotel after hearing your sister's plan; at this point, you called each other sisters, which felt too informal for your relationship. So you were excited to check out this new project she told you about and asked you to stop by this "hazbin hotel". Walking into the hotel, Charlie ran up to you excited "Y/n oh, it's excellent. I'm so happy you're here; we have someone who wants to help us.” She pulled your hand towards the main room. Dragging behind her, you laughed, “Who is this? They must be super special if you're this excited!”. She introduces you to the current staff, husk and niffty

He shakes your hand, saying it's nice to meet you, while Nifty hugs your leg, saying she is so excited for another princess here to watch her roach show, whatever that is. “and this is Alastor! The radio demon; you may have heard his show?”. You turn, smiling at him, meeting his gaze. He takes your hand, kissing it,” I wondered where you went. Great to see you again.” his lips felt soft, surprisingly, against your skin. He straightens up. “And it's good to see you again, Miss Morningstar; I've missed our post-meeting talks greatly.” “Oh! You met before!!!! That's wonderful! This should work out great then,” Charlie exclaims. She wanders off, talking out loud to Vaggie about some exercise for tomorrow. “COME,” Alastor said, “let's catch up, my dear.” and catch up you did; it felt as if no time had passed; soon, you were laughing and walking around the hotel as if you were the oldest of friends.

You had stopped going to the meetings. However, the piles of notes and paperwork going untouched by Uncle Luci made no sense to continue, plus the tension that had started to build at them made you feel uneasy. And so it went an unexpected family dynamic. The two of you began to get closer, and Alastor started to feel possessive about you in some ways;when others seemed to occupy your time. Narrowing his eyes when you told him "just a second" while listening to angel or husk. He also disliked when he heard of outings in seedy parts of town. What if someone hurt you? Kidnapped you?. It wasn't something he wanted to think about. He asked himself why though he cares so much. You're nothing but another morningstar after all. But he realized he craved those moments in the morning, you sleepily walking downstairs to say good morning to him, asking him how his previous day was. Interested in any sinners he has to slaughter.

He also felt a sense of pride every time you expressed interest in anything related to him. He overheard you asking others for information about him, like his favorite food, movies, and past. It intrigued him that you were taking interest, and it scared him that he could see a future with you, especially when he discovered that your past was not as squeaky clean as your sisters.

You weren't afraid to get your hands dirty, and he wanted to explore that; he wanted to explore more of you, how much he could push you, and what lengths you would go for him. Little did he know that you felt the same. You had become intrigued by him entranced there was something so mysterious so alluring you wanted to know more of him. You wanted to see more of him, it didn't hurt that. He was incredibly handsome as well and such a gentleman. The more you two spend time together, the more you realize this magnetic pool that you had of him. You were curious about his life before he died and you were curious about his life that he currently lived. He was an overlord yes, but still it seemed as though there was many inner working in his daily life that left much to the imagination. He was also so particular. It felt like everyday you were learning something so new about him. You found yourself wanting to impress him. The fact that he was so picky was so many mundane things. When you can find something that he enjoyed, it felt like an accomplishment. More and more, you started to realize that you wanted to spend most of your time around him declining invites and choosing to spend evenings talking with him or listening to his broadcast. You couldn't put your finger on it, but you started to imagine that possibly he felt the same. You noticed that he hovered around you more than anyone else was very inquisitive about where you would go when he could not accompany you. He also seemed to narrow his eyes and twitched the corners of his mouth. If you expressed you were going somewhere in a neighborhood that was a bit more dangerous.

He started to insist that he would come with you or that you wait until he can. "It's for you own safety my dear! Can't let anything happen to my dear friend". Friend the word sounded so right and so wrong at the same time. You remember your father's domestic lives making dinner together and breakfast going for walks, spending time in each other's company with comfortable silence. When you lingered on that memory too long, a pain started to grow in your heart. You felt as though you would never have that with someone. At least not here. Not until you met alastor, his 1930's demeanor made your imagination wonder, could he be the closest you could have to a domestic "normal" life?. His habits of depravity and violence would turn most people away but not you. They stirred something down inside of you, primal attraction. He was so powerful, demanded respect and authority; it was attractive and you felt yourself falling harder and harder everyday.

[r3dblccd]

forget i said anything to you at all. ( taeshik to yi! )

"OOPS... I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU" PROMPTS | @luneblush

"No, the fuck you don't!" Yi growled. What was all of this? What was Taeshik trying to accomplish in the first place?

And before the other fox could slip away, Yi grabbed him by the jaw with one hand and by the neck with the other, hard. No, he wasn't going to leave until he also didn't say what he was thinking. Usually, he was the one who was orchestrating things, he was the one setting the game rules and changing them as he pleased. For the world was just a giant play, a game. He always had the upper hand. Yet with Taeshik. With him, there were no clear rules. Yi could only guess what would happen. In a way, it was refreshing, and in another, it was infuriating feeling that power and control passing through his hands like sand. And in a way that unique and strange interaction forced to show more of himself, both good and bad. But for once, he was being true. Well, sort of. He did start off thinking of the other as his next plaything. But after a while, he really started questioning what if? And what was the feeling that kept on twisting in his heart like a knife?

"Do you really think you can say something of the sort that you might be catching feelings? After you were the one who pushed me away?" With that, he tightened his grip. Yes, he did remember that night they kissed. Well, the night when he kissed him and Taeshik shoved him off. Yi may have been a little tipsy then, but he wasn't straight-up drunk to the point where he couldn't even remember what he did. "Fine, I won't blame you for that. Maybe I would have done the same. But after? You wanted me to not remember? That's why I played along. You wanted to forget it. And you have the audacity to look me in my face and spew this bullshit when I do exactly as you want - to forget, move on, find something new? The show must go on, Taeshik. Make up your damn mind."

There was one more squeeze at the other's neck before Yi let him go and pushed him away. "Now go. Get out of my sight before I do something you wouldn't like one bit." And neither would he.

"Feelings." He snorted in the most bitter way possible. "What a joke!"