#he's supposed to be holding the arms of chaos but this is a REALLY rough sketch

[chais-corner]

and a thing i might not finish.

[revelboo]

Everything is Alright Pt 14

Soundwave x Reader- company

• It’s almost maddening, the chaos in that little, organic head of yours. The hurt and frustration that he can’t shut out. While Soundwave doesn’t know exactly what happened that night, he’d felt the immediate shift in you. And it’s worse now as he lets himself into Starscream’s quarters, those intrusive thoughts snaring him. Exhausting him. Wounding.

• His gift, his curse, makes it impossible to not know when something’s wrong. Mostly, he just needs to know if whatever storm is brewing is just a little squall or a hurricane. This isn’t anything major. He shouldn’t care. You’re Starscream’s pet. Or maybe project? Who knew, but the SIC isn’t faring much better. And he’s taking his frustration and anger out on everyone he can. Which is a problem for morale.

• You don’t bother looking up as Soundwave enters and approaches the desk. He lays a single servo on top of your head before shifting it to ever so carefully bop you on the nose, somehow not breaking it in the process. You still jerk back in surprise, eyes narrowing as you stare up at his visor, your own scowling, unkempt self glaring back in the reflection. Oh. Do you really look that rough? Turning your back on him so you won’t give in to the urge to use his visor as a mirror and try to finger comb your hair, you stiffen when he picks you up and sets you on the floor.

• And you can’t help but look at his huge peds. Starscream always keeps you trapped up high, sure, but it’s also safe from accidentally being stepped on. You bite into the inside of your cheek to keep from pleading to be put back. Down is good. You can try to escape if you’re not stuck on his desk. That’s what you want. Right? You’re not entirely sure and you hate it.

• “Eject,” Soundwave says from above you, that chest compartment he’s put you in before opening so huge cassettes can be launched out. Mouth falling open as they transform before hitting the ground, you stare at four smaller Decepticons. They’re still much bigger than you, but they can’t step on you at least. And he just carries them in his chest? You’re not sure why weird alien stuff still throws you at this point. Two look like bipedal robots like Starscream and Soundwave. One seems to be a big bird, an image it reinforces by tilting its head to stare at you. The other appears to be a panther. Looming over you and these new Decepticons, Soundwave holds up a single servo. “Behave.”

• What? He’s leaving you with them? Apparently so as he strides for the door and you just gape after him, protests catching in your throat. “You are tiny. Breakable.” A hand grips your arm, lifting it and you spin in alarm. Because the breakable comment has made your stomach lurch sickeningly. Soundwave wouldn’t have just ditched you with these mechs if they’re going to hurt you. Right? The purple one is frowning at you as he compares your hand with his own. You’re only able to yank out of his grip because he lets you and you’re well aware of that fact. “So, what do you for fun around here?” He asks, grinning down at you while you flounder.

• Your boring lack of fun doesn’t really impress them. Frenzy, Rumble, Ravage, and Lazerbeak aren’t interested in hiding in Starscream’s quarters or doodling on the data pad. So you find yourself dragged out into the halls. Literally. Frenzy pulls you along by the arm in their wake and no amount of struggling or digging your feet in is stopping him. If anything, he finds your panic funny. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be out here,” you say, reluctantly giving up your pointless struggle since it feels like you’re going to dislocate your arm long before he gets tired of dragging you. There’s no winning.

• “Definitely not,” Ravage mutters, glaring at you when you stare, because he can talk. Why it surprises you after everything, you’re not sure, but it does. Maybe your brain is finally starting to reach its ‘nope’ limit. And that limit is talking mecha panthers.

• You’re so distracted you almost miss the huge, bright green Decepticon rounding a corner for all of three seconds. Then you’re trying to hide behind Frenzy as its head tips down and it sees your little group. Its lip curls to flash denta and a foot lifts in a very obvious threat to squish you. “How’d that thing get in here? Don’t you know how fast they multiply?”

• “Stick it up your tailpipe, Scrapper,” Frenzy snarls, his seeming indifference for the fact that while he’s bigger than you, he’s still absolutely able to be stepped-on sized to the other Decepticons. He either really isn’t worried about retaliation or he’s just that dumb and you’re not sure which. The distinction seems very important, though. “You really think a human just wandered in? It’s supposed to be here.”

• And you’re being dragged past the big mech, who looks uncertain. Surely it’s not that easy? Frenzy tugs on your arm and you stumble forward, his hand pushing you forward so you’re in front of him and behind Rumble. Maybe he is worried then, you crane your neck to stare at the big Decepticon as it stares back in perplexed silence. “Don’t run, but walk faster. Even if he’s not the smartest Constructicon, he’s likely to scrape up enough processing power to wonder why a human is supposed to be here,” Ravage hisses softly and you’re hurried along deeper into the Decepticon base. Previous Next

Did I go watch TFO a third time this past weekend because it’s amazing? Yeah, I did. Go watch it. It’s just this gorgeous love letter to G1.

[more-hysteria-things]

BEGGING FOR SOME LIKE JACK FLUFF FROM LIKE A ROUGH DAY ON SET AND HIM JUST BEING SWEET TO US!! (my first scenario🥳)

ROUGH DAY

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jack champion x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s one of those days on set, and jack is not having it. even worse that it’s his birthday, the day when it’s supposed to be fun and carefree. then, you come along to truly show how much he means to you.

��𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none! just tooth rotting fluff :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,224

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: FIRST JACK FIC LFG.

also, since this is my other account for non-sturniolo fics i’m still putting the same tag list. if you would like to not get tagged for this blog, just let me know!

shoutout to bbg @venusbabysblog for helping me get started🥹

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 blessing. it’s a job where you have great opportunities to meet amazing people and be in hit films, but sometimes it’s a struggle. jack opens the door to his trailer with a clenched jaw, shutting the door as he looks around. his eyebrows twitch in confusion, noticing how you’re not in sight.

your boyfriend loves to bring you along to wherever he goes for filming. one reason being that he honestly can’t live without you, but also because you’re his biggest fan and will support him through anything. usually, you’d be watching him act from afar or you’d be waiting in his trailer by watching TV or keeping yourself occupied in general. however, you’re nowhere to be seen.

he’s on a long break until later tonight, which annoys him. he just wants this day to be over. “y/n?” he calls out, peeking his head into the small bedroom. alas, you’re not there.

alarms start to go off in his head, although it’s silly. you can’t really go anywhere, but since you’re not in your usual spot, the caring boyfriend in him makes him worry that something bad has happened. especially since you didn’t text him that you were going somewhere or anything.

then, a giggle is heard along with the opening of his trailer door, and he turns around to face the noise. he takes a small sigh of relief when he sees you beaming from ear to ear holding a present bag.

while in the middle of a scene, jack texted you about the day he’s having—lines he couldn’t nail, and a director who seemed impossible to please. you frown slightly when you see his semi-disgruntled face, shuffling over to him excitedly to wrap your arms around his body in an embrace he desperately needs. he exhales deeply, bends down to nuzzle his face into your neck, and kisses it softly.

“sorry, i was hoping i’d be back before you were, but your mom and i got stuck in traffic,” you say in his chest before pulling away after long seconds. trying to make the atmosphere more positive, you smile and extend your arm with the bag in hand. “happy birthday!”

the smallest smile appears on his face, grabbing your hand to head over to the leather couch to sit down. he places the bag onto the floor, removing the tissue inside of it to reveal his presents. his eyes widen in surprise, seeing more than he thought you’d get him. “you didn’t have to do all of this...” he says, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

he pulls out the first thing that sits on top of the rest, which is a homemade birthday card out of construction paper in his favorite color. he lets out a chuckle as he looks at the front of it, seeing two drawn stick figures that are supposed to be you and him holding hands with the title in big writing: HAPPY BIRTHDAY •ᴗ•

opening the card, there’s a bunch of words scribbled on the right side.

jack,

*queue song* happy birthday to you!

i am so incredibly proud of you watching the way you chase your dreams. here’s to many more birthdays, memories, and quiet moments in between the chaos. no matter how many lights and cameras around, you’ll always just be jack to me. the one who laughs too loud, holds me close, and somehow manages to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world.

i’m so grateful to be apart of your story.

always, y/n ❤︎

p.s. like what your name implies, you are indeed a champion.

his heart jumps with joy, closing the note and leaning in to peck you on the nose. your face turns red as you try not to beam with happiness, tilting your head to the bag. “there’s still a lot more.”

he nods, placing the card aside as he grabs a leather journal, specifically personalized for him. the border of it is embroidered with eye-catching detail, his initials JC in big cursive letters in the middle. you know jack sometimes likes to scribble lines down in between takes in a way to remember, or something to put his ideas in for fun. he flips through the pages rapidly, the gust of air flowing on his face as he smells the paper and leather mixed.

you watch his every move, nibbling on your bottom lip excitedly when he pulls out a small, navy blue box. inside of it is a chained necklace with a small pendant of a waxing crescent. the moon phase the day he was born.

scratching the back of your neck nervously, you speak. “this one’s a little girly…” you trail off. “you don’t have to wear it, you can hang it up or something for decoration. i just thought it was pretty.”

he nudges your arm with his elbow. “stop that. it’s beautiful; i love it.”

jack carefully takes it out of the box, undoing the chain and reaching behind his neck to clip it. the length is perfect, and the accessory oddly suits him. “thank you.” he says softly, running his hand over the moon and reaching into the bag once more.

this time, he pulls out two things. another book along with a film camera on top of it tied in ribbon so both items can stick together. while untying it, he notices the scrapbook underneath.

THE STORY OF US…

he glances at you as he starts to look into it. the pages are filled with film photos, ticket stubs, and little mementos from your favorite times together. you’d written little captions under each, capturing inside jokes and sweet moments. it was something he could flip through on hard days.

however, each left page is blank. “you can add to it whenever you have the time. it takes two people to make a love story, you know.” you explain, feeling somewhat cheesy and cringy at the saying, but you mean it.

last but not least, the last few items are snacks. homemade cookies, energy bars, and even a small container of his favorite food.

he feels overwhelmed by all of the gifts but in a good way. nobody has ever shown him this much adoration before, and it’s obvious how much he means to you. “y/n.” your name rolls perfectly off of his tongue, his eyes not leaving the presents now scattered on the couch cushion. “i love it all so much. genuinely, thank you.”

you place your hands on the sides of his neck so he can look at you, kissing him full of love. he cherishes you, and he couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend. he’s always so grateful that he met you that time in his hometown. you made his 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐘 turn around completely.

“how’d you even do all of this?” he adds, starting to feel dumbfounded about how you did all of this under his nose without him knowing.

“i don’t kiss and tell.” you say with a smirk. “but also with the help of your mom.”

laughing, he grunts as he lays to rest his head on your stomach, your hands finding way into his wavy hair. “i’m so in love with you.” he mumbles, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.

best. birthday. ever.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns @starz4star

[diamonddaze01]

hii 47 on 101 drabble prompt with underground boxer jeonghan T___T thnx!

fight my way

pairing: jeonghan x reader | wc: 1.1k prompt: "You have to make a choice." au: underground boxing au | warnings: mentions of injury a/n: what's with me making jeonghan so commitment-phobic bruh

The first time you met Jeonghan, he was leaning against a dimly lit wall in the back of the gym, his face mostly hidden by the shadow of a hoodie pulled low over his eyes. His knuckles were raw and bloodied, and his smirk was as sharp as the scent of sweat and iron in the air. You’d come looking for someone else—a friend who’d disappeared into this underworld of sweat and broken promises—but it was Jeonghan who found you instead.

“You don’t belong here,” he’d said, his voice smooth yet edged with something dangerous. You’d wanted to snap back, to tell him you weren’t scared, but something about him made your heart skip. You should’ve walked away that night. Instead, you stayed. And then, you kept staying.

It wasn’t long before you learned who Jeonghan really was. A fighter with a reputation as lethal as his grin, someone who could charm you with his words and wreck you with his fists. He’d started boxing underground for the money—his sister needed surgery, and working part-time at the local convenience store hadn’t been cutting it. By the time the bills were paid, though, he was hooked. The crowd’s cheers, the adrenaline, the thrill of the fight—it had all become his oxygen.

And you? You’d become his anchor. Or so you thought.

The warehouse reeked of sweat, blood, and desperation. Neon lights buzzed weakly overhead, casting uneven shadows across the crowd. You stood near the back, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your heart pounding louder than the jeers and cheers echoing around you. Jeonghan was in the ring again, weaving effortlessly, a smirk playing on his split lip like he hadn’t just taken a punch that would’ve floored anyone else.

This wasn’t the first time you’d watched him fight. It wasn’t even the first time you’d stood there wondering what the hell you were still doing. You weren’t built for this world—the chaos, the violence, the nights spent patching him up in your tiny bathroom, holding your breath every time he grimaced. But he was. Jeonghan thrived here, in the adrenaline and danger, and you hated how much it seemed to love him back.

A sharp jab connected with his opponent’s jaw, and the man hit the mat with a sickening thud. The referee’s shout barely registered over the roar of the crowd. Jeonghan stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving, his gloved hand raised in victory. His eyes scanned the crowd, and when they found you, his expression shifted. The smirk softened into something else, something that felt like a plea.

Moments later, he was ducking out of the ring, shoving past drunk gamblers and overzealous fans until he was standing in front of you, close enough that you could see the sweat dripping down his temple, mixing with the blood from the cut on his brow.

“Let’s go,” he said simply, his voice rough but commanding. He didn’t wait for you to answer, just grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd, out into the cold night air.

The alley behind the warehouse was quieter, the distant hum of the city the only sound between you. Jeonghan leaned against the brick wall, running a hand through his damp hair as he caught his breath. You stayed where you were, your arms crossed again, staring at him like you were trying to memorize every bruise, every scar, every piece of him that this life had taken and twisted.

“You have to make a choice,” he said finally, his voice low but steady. He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder. “You can’t keep doing this.”

You blinked, the words cutting through you like a blade. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeonghan turned to face you then, his eyes sharper than you’d ever seen them. “It means you don’t belong here,” he said, gesturing toward the warehouse behind you. “I’ve told you that from the start. This isn’t your world.”

“Stop deciding what’s mine and what’s not,” you shot back, your voice rising. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve been here.”

“And that’s exactly what scares me!” he snapped, his voice cracking at the edges. “Do you know how it feels to look at you in that crowd, knowing I might be the reason you get hurt? That you’re wasting your time on someone who might not even—” He broke off, looking away as if the words physically hurt.

“Who might not even what?” you pressed, your voice quieter now.

His jaw tightened, and he ran a gloved hand over his face. “Who might not even make it out of this someday,” he muttered, almost too softly for you to hear. “Or who might not be enough for you in the end.”

You stared at him, the ache in your chest spreading like wildfire. “What I deserve is for you to stop pushing me away.”

“I’m not—” He stopped, his eyes flicking to yours before darting away again. “I’m not pushing you away,” he said, softer this time. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting, Jeonghan,” you said, stepping closer. “I need you to let me choose.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, like he was trying to decide whether to believe you. His gaze lingered on your face, his eyes softening in a way that made your resolve falter.

“And what if your choice is the wrong one?” he asked quietly. “What if I can’t keep you safe?”

You reached out, your fingers brushing over his gloved hand. “Then you fight harder. Isn’t that what you’re good at?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, a ghost of his usual smirk breaking through the tension. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, shaking his head.

“And you’re stubborn,” you countered, stepping closer until you could feel the heat radiating off his bruised and battered body. “But I’m still here.”

Jeonghan let out a shaky breath, his hand slipping out of the glove to thread his fingers through yours. He didn’t say anything, just held on like he was afraid to let go.

The silence stretched between you, heavy but comforting, until he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t promise I’ll stop fighting.”

You nodded, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his tone. “I’m not asking you to.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I can promise I’ll fight for you too.”

It wasn’t the perfect answer. It wasn’t even the one you’d wanted. But standing there in the cold, his hand in yours, you decided it was enough—for now.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[rafecswhore]

n o b o d y g e t s m e - rafe cameron x reader

a/n : this is so angsty and sappy it has my heart wrenching ngl

the evening sky was painted in deep oranges and purples as you sat on the hood of rafe’s truck, staring out at the empty beach. the world around you felt like it had gone quiet, save for the distant crash of waves and the occasional crackle of the bonfire behind you. rafe sat beside you, one hand gripping a half-empty beer bottle, the other resting casually on his knee. the tension between you was palpable, a silence that felt heavier than it should.

“so,” he finally said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “you’re really leaving?”

you glanced over at him, your chest tightening at the way his jaw clenched, the way he couldn’t quite meet your eyes. “yeah,” you said softly. “i leave next week.”

his head snapped toward you then, his blue eyes sharp and full of something you couldn’t quite name. frustration? sadness? anger? maybe all of it. “you’re just gonna walk away?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “like none of this mattered?”

“it’s not like that, rafe,” you said, turning to face him fully. “you know it’s not.”

“then what is it?” he shot back, standing abruptly and pacing a few steps away. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re running. again.”

his words stung, but they weren’t entirely wrong. the opportunity to move to the city was everything you’d been working toward for years, but the thought of leaving rafe—leaving what you had—made your chest ache in ways you didn’t want to admit.

“it’s not running,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. “it’s… trying to figure out who i am. where i belong.”

“you belong here,” he said firmly, turning back to you. “with me.”

the rawness in his voice made your breath catch, and you looked away, blinking back tears. “rafe, you know it’s not that simple.”

“it is to me,” he said, stepping closer. “it’s always been simple.”

you and rafe had been everything and nothing all at once. late-night drives with the windows down, music blaring as he sped down the back roads. stolen kisses under the cover of darkness, his hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear. whispered confessions in the early hours of the morning, the kind of vulnerability rafe rarely showed to anyone else.

but there was always something pulling you back, something telling you this wasn’t sustainable. rafe cameron was chaos, a storm you couldn’t control, and as much as you loved him, you weren’t sure if love was enough.

“nobody gets me like you,” you admitted one night, your head resting on his shoulder as the two of you sat on the roof of tanneyhill. “but maybe that’s the problem.”

he frowned, his arm tightening around you. “what the hell does that mean?”

“it means…” you trailed off, searching for the right words. “it means you scare me, rafe. not because of who you are, but because of how much I feel when I’m with you.”

“good,” he said, turning to look at you. “you should feel something. that’s what this is all about, right? feeling something real.”

you didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, because how could you explain that the intensity of it all was the very thing that made you feel like you were drowning?

the night before you were supposed to leave, rafe showed up at your door, his hair a mess, his chest rising and falling like he’d run the whole way there. “don’t do this,” he said, his voice rough and broken. “don’t leave me.”

you stared at him, your heart shattering at the sight of him like this. “rafe—”

“just listen,” he said, stepping closer, his hands gripping your shoulders. “you can’t leave and pretend like we don’t mean anything. like i don’t mean anything.”

"that’s not what i’m doing,” you said, your voice trembling. “but i can’t stay. i can’t keep putting my life on hold for—”

“for what?” he interrupted, his eyes searching yours desperately. “for me?”

you nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks. “for us.”

he let out a bitter laugh, dropping his hands and stepping back. “that’s bullshit, y/n. you’re not putting anything on hold. you’re just scared.”

“maybe i am,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “but rafe, this isn’t just about us. it’s about me trying to figure out who i am outside of this—outside of you.”

he stared at you for a long moment, his jaw tightening as he fought back whatever he was feeling. “fine,” he said finally, his voice cold. “go. but don’t expect me to be here when you get back.”

you left. and for a while, you thought it was the right decision. you threw yourself into your new life, trying to forget the way rafe’s voice cracked when he told you to go, the way his hands lingered on your shoulders like he was memorizing the feel of you.

but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake him. every song, every late-night thought, every ache in your chest—it all came back to him. because rafe wasn’t just someone you loved. he was someone who knew every broken, messy piece of you and loved you anyway.

when you came back to the outer banks months later, you weren’t sure what to expect. part of you hoped rafe had moved on, that he was happy without you. but another part of you—the selfish part—wanted him to still be yours.

you found him on the same beach where it all started, sitting in the sand with a cigarette between his fingers. he didn’t look up as you approached, but you knew he’d heard you.

“so, you’re back,” he said, his voice flat.

“yeah,” you said, sitting down beside him. “i guess i am.”

he finally looked at you, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. “why?”

“because nobody gets me like you,” you said softly. “and maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything. then, rafe let out a small, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “you’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

you smiled, your heart aching in the best way. “yeah. i know.”

he looked at you again, and this time, there was something softer in his gaze. “don’t leave again,” he said quietly.

[miioouu]

Mean dad's best friend! John Price Ending

Helloooo! I’m back from the dead to drop this horrible, disgusting, bad bad final part for Price’s route! I’ve been dealing with some personal issues as well as some terrible creative blocks, so please I know it’s bad, ok? Tw: smut, breeding kink, mention of fingering and oral (female receiving), female reader Wc: 1.4k 

Your eyes kept glancing between the two men. Why are you having such a hard time making a choice? It should be obvious right? Although Simon has always been on your mind, the one you're always crawling back to, you know better than that. The voice in the back of your head is telling you to let go, no matter how much your heart will break, there's someone who'll mend it back together.

The thought alone made you smile, you gazed into ocean blues and suddenly, it wasn't that difficult to choose. His grin alone made your heart skip a beat. His hands, the way they smooth down the skin of your waist as he pulls you closer, is enough to make you melt. And you weren't supposed to feel anything for that man; only here to make Ghost jealous, only a mere distraction at first, but he's become so much more, someone you like…loved even.

You try to voice out your choice, although Price stopped you “It's ok sweetheart, I think he got it, right?” His warm eyes turned icy just by looking at the other man. And again, you hate their silent communication, you hate always being left in the dark, but the moment Simon scoffed, giving you his infamous eye roll as he turned away and slipped from your room, it was enough to make you forget all about their lack of communication skills.

It was the way his arms wrap around you as he holds you close, and the way his warm eyes gazed into yours as he smiled so adorably, that’s one of the reasons why you chose John. The way he cared about you, never talked about other women, never told you what to do. Never stern and never rude, only sweetness outside the bedroom and in it too. His hands are always soft as they gently lift your shirt up, just like he is doing right now, calloused but gentle as they brush against your skin, leaving scatters of goosebumps in their trail. His words, praising you with devotion “Maybe I don’t make you feel as good as him. Maybe he really is better than me…But you know, he doesn’t like you the way I do. Noone ever will.” But you only shake your head. Maybe you have been blinded by Ghost’s pure rough lust, but you’re not stupid enough to disregard gentleness and awe. 

His lips trailed down your neck, down your collarbones, and when usually he’d like to bite and nibble, he feels as if he doesn’t need to mark you anymore. You’re his, you know it, he knows it, Simon knows it. No need for unnecessary roughness, of reminding that you enjoy him just as much, if not more now. It’s obvious, from the way your head falls back against the pillows, they kind of smell like him. From the way your nails dig in his shoulders as you guide him back down, further down. Soft lips on your soft tummy, making the butterflies erupt in your stomach, the way he kisses you, so carefully, like you were crystal, like you were the finest porcelain, like you were the most fragile thing that has ever seen the light of the earth. 

This military man always felt like he belonged in chaos and brutality, the savagery of bullets and loudness of bombs, never did he think he’d find relishing in tenderness and kindness. Cold nights when he’d stay awake praying god would let him see another day of life, now between the warmth of your sheets, god is forgotten, John can only sin and sin over and over again, if this is what hell is like, then so be it, nothing will ever taste as sweet as your arousal. A sloppy man by nature, saliva and drool dripping down his chin as he messily makes out with your folds. Between your thighs, that’s where he truly belonged. 

Doe eyes looking up at you from below, it made you smile, how a man like him can’t contain his eagerness. Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling him closer to your core, even closer when your back arched, his fingers suddenly plunging inside you. That’s how he always did it “Wanna make sure you’re ready sweetheart. Don’t ever want to hurt you, not that way at least…”  He’d constantly say, to the point where it kept on replaying in your mind, even at the worst possible moments. He’d always make sure you’d cum on his fingers or tongue first, for comfort, as he puts it. But deep down, that’s not the reason. Knowing that he as you wrapped around his fingers, literally, always did something to him. The way you purr, thrash against your sheets when he overstimulates you with just a flicker to your abused clit, the way you beg him “Please, please! Just…put it in, fuck me!” the way you ramble, voice dripping with desperation, high pitched, and whiny. Your whining, your begging, your crying is why he does it. You’d always tell him how nice he is, but he’s cruel really, selfishly so.

It’s only when he thinks you’re ready, or in other words, it’s only when your tears are staining the pillows, only when your nails drew crescent reds on his back, only when he couldn’t take it anymore, would he push you further up the bed and hover above you. He wouldn’t even give you much time to process what’s happening. He already got your legs wrapped around his waist, and when usually he’d growl and complain about having to use protection, this time he skipped it all together. Your eyes went wide, a small gasp escaped your lips when you felt his tip nudging between your lower lips; he found your behaviour just so cute. He chuckles, leaning down, folding you as he does so, whispers lightly in your ear “You’re so adorable like that, sweetheart. So pretty folded in half for me like that…Got to take advantage of that now, soon I won’t be able to do that at all, hmm?”  It doesn’t take a genius to know what he meant by that, and even if you had any doubts, he slid into you, hissing in pleasure at the feeling of your tight walls around his cock, reinforcing his idea, making it clear. 

And why did he ever doubt you? Was the way you scream his name not enough proof that you loved him? The way you squirm, the way tears cascaded down your cheeks, the way you grabbed into him, all of that, was it not enough to make your decision easier? You’re both too stupid to realise that there shouldn’t have been any hesitation in who you’d choose in the end. 

His hips moved against yours, drilling into you at a speed you’ve never experienced from that man before, or anyone for what matters. His hands dug into your hips as he held you steady. You’re panting, biting your lips to keep your moans at bay, but to no avail. He won’t be having that. “Don’t be selfish now my darling. I’ve been patient enough, the least you could do is appreciate me by screaming my name, don’t you think?” And who were you to deny him this request? Your lips parted at his demand, his name rolling off your tongue has him picking up his pace, faster and faster, he’s reaching so deep. Although not in the fields, when Johnny puts his mind into something, he’ll make sure it happens, no matter what it takes. His fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves, it has you twitching underneath him, squirming and shaking, your voice is all choked up when you cum. Your vision is blurry, your limbs feel like jelly as your gummy walls spasm around him, really, he’s not surprised at how fast he cums when he’s with you anymore, never once did it hurt his ego. Your exhausted smile warmed his heart. A kiss on your forehead and a soft whisper of “Thanks for giving me a chance”  has you wrap your arms around him to press a sweet peck to his lips. And you thought that was the end of your night, you’re ready to be tucked in and cuddled up against his chest and be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat as usual, but no. “Oh no, where do you think you’re going, darling? No, no we’re not done yet. I got to make sure it takes, wanna see you all round for me. We’re gonna show him, I can give you what you want. I am what you need…”

[thatlotuscookie]

OMG I JUST READ CHIBI DABI FIC AND IT WAS SO CUTE, IT MADE ME WANT TO REQUEST TOO😭 so how about Dabi x reader when after some mission they're both so so tired and they just lie in bed watching movie and Dabi falls asleep and reader decides to tie his hair in a tiny adorable ponytail on top of his head so it stays up😭😂 and he stirs awake and he's like wtf is that and he's annoyed but sees how happy it makes reader and he softens I NEED FLUFF WITH DABI LIKE FOREHEAD KISSES, CUDDLING, PLAYING WITH HIS HAIR, SLEEPING WITH HIM JUST SOMETHING CUTE😭❤️

✧･ﾟ: a/n : stop because this is so?? CUTE??? thank you for requesting anon<3 so glad you liked the chibi dabi hehhehe. Enjoy!

✧ Title: ✧ Cuddles and Ponytails ✧ ✧ Characters: Dabi x Reader (Gender Neutral) ✧ Genre: Fluff ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: After a long, exhausting mission, you and Dabi return to your shared hideout. You both find comfort in each other, reminding yourselves that even in the chaos of your world, it’s the small moments that truly matter. ✧ Content/Tags: Fluff, Cuddling, Forehead Kisses, Playful, Domestic, Soft Dabi, Hair Tying, Soft!Dabi ✧ WC: 915 words // 5.1k chars

It was a late night at the hideout. After a particularly grueling mission, you and Dabi dragged yourselves back to your shared room, the weight of exhaustion clinging to both of you. The plan had been simple enough, but nothing ever went as smoothly as it was supposed to in this line of work.

Before settling down, you both made a quick trip to the shower, the hot water helping to wash away the grime and stress of the day. You felt more human as you rinsed off, the steam enveloping you like a comforting blanket. Dabi didn’t say much, but you could see the tension ease from his shoulders as he stepped out, water dripping from his hair. After drying off and throwing on some comfortable clothes, you collapsed onto the bed without much thought, still feeling the fatigue wash over you.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the flicker of a movie playing on the flat-screen TV, though neither of you were really paying attention to it. Dabi had ended up lying on his back, arm flung over his eyes. You sat beside him, propped against the headboard, watching him through half-lidded eyes. The mission had been rough, and you could tell it had taken a toll on him, but now that he was here, in this quiet moment with you, he seemed a little more at peace.

As you looked down at him, an idea popped into your head. His dark hair was messy from the day’s events, strands falling into his face as he breathed slowly. You bit your lip, stifling a giggle, as the image of him with his hair in a tiny ponytail flashed in your mind.

You weren’t sure how he’d react, but the exhaustion had wiped away any hesitations. Reaching over to the bedside table, you grabbed a small hair tie and gently scooted closer to him. You were careful not to wake him as you slowly gathered the messy strands of his hair, tying them into the smallest ponytail you could manage on the top of his head.

It looked… adorable. The contrast between his usual brooding, tough exterior and the ridiculous ponytail made your heart warm. Unable to hold back, you let out a soft giggle.

Suddenly, Dabi stirred. His eyes slowly blinked open, and he groaned, voice low and gravelly from fatigue. “What the hell are you laughing at?” he mumbled, shifting slightly.

You bit back another laugh, pretending to be innocent. “Nothing,” you said, your voice betraying your amusement.

He squinted at you suspiciously before reaching up to rub his face. His fingers brushed the top of his head, and his eyes widened slightly in confusion. “What the…” He sat up slightly, tugging at the tiny ponytail.

“Are you serious?” he asked, glaring at you half-heartedly. His tone was annoyed, but it wasn’t harsh. You knew him well enough by now to realize he wasn’t truly mad, just a bit surprised.

You couldn’t help it anymore. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as you watched his face twist in mild annoyance, his hand still gripping the little ponytail. “It’s so cute!” you managed to say between giggles.

Dabi huffed, rolling his eyes. “Cute, huh?” he muttered, clearly not impressed, but as he looked at your face—your genuine happiness, the way your eyes sparkled as you looked at him—his expression softened.

He sighed and let his hand drop away from the ponytail. “Fine, if it makes you happy,” he grumbled, lying back down. “But don’t expect this to be a regular thing.” His words were sharp, but his tone was soft, almost affectionate.

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth as you scooted closer to him, lying down beside him. He glanced at you, and you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured, but there was no malice in his words.

Without thinking, you reached up and brushed your fingers through the rest of his hair, smoothing it down gently. He tensed for a moment but soon relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut. It wasn’t often Dabi let himself be vulnerable like this, and you cherished every moment of it.

Before you knew it, he had shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his chest. His body was warm, comforting in a way that was uniquely Dabi. You smiled into his shoulder, your fingers still playing with his hair as you lay there together in comfortable silence.

After a few moments, you felt his lips press gently against your forehead—a rare but cherished gesture. It was small, barely noticeable, but it spoke volumes coming from him. You closed your eyes, feeling content in his arms, listening to the sound of his steady breathing.

Dabi let out a soft sigh, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke, “You’re the only one I’d let do this, you know?”

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “I know,” you replied, snuggling closer to him.

As the night went on, the two of you drifted off to sleep, tangled together under the blankets, the tiny ponytail still perched on top of Dabi’s head. It was a small, silly moment, but it was one you would treasure—because even in the darkness of your world, there were moments like these. Moments where you could just be together, no masks, no missions—just you and him.

And that was enough.

[levisolace]

[10] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 10: Friends?

WC: 7,826 Chapter Warnings: none not even angst lol Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. Note: unedited i just wrote and skimmed through the whole thing SORRY

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You stirred slightly, caught between the haze of sleep and wakefulness. Warmth surrounded you, and your cheek was pressed against something solid. A steady, rhythmic sound filled your ears—Levi’s heartbeat.

It wasn’t until your hand shifted against his side that realization hit. Your arm was draped across him, your body curled into his. You froze. His arm is also draped over your back, hand resting on your shoulder, vaguely reminding you of how he held you from the back last night.

Levi’s breathing was slow and even, his chest rising and falling beneath your palm. He was still asleep, his face relaxed in a way you rarely saw. His brows, which were almost always furrowed, were smooth. His lips, slightly parted, showed none of the sharp remarks or dry humor you were used to.

You wanted to move—needed to—but your body betrayed you, unwilling to disturb the rare moment of peace. Levi looked genuinely asleep, which was rare. So instead, you lingered, your mind racing. It felt so natural, so familiar, and yet… it wasn’t.

The spell broke when a sudden weight landed on the bed, startling both of you.

Levi grunted, his brows knitting as his eyes flickered open.

Before you could so much as untangle yourself, Earl, your adorably sassy cat, pounced directly onto Levi’s chest, his tail whipping against your face.

“What the—” Levi’s voice was rough, his expression dazed as Earl began sniffing his face, completely unbothered by the chaos he’d caused.

“Earl!” you hissed, finally pulling yourself away from Levi, your face burning. You grabbed the cat, holding him up in front of you like a misbehaving child. “Really?” 

The black cat hangs in the air, swaying slightly in your hands, completely unmoved by your scolding. In honesty, you were thankful for the cat getting you out on what was supposed to be an awkward situation of waking up.

Good job, Earl. You thought. 

Levi sat up, raking a hand through his mussed hair, his silver eyes narrowing at Earl. You had to look away from him, hoping he didn’t notice your eyes shifting quickly from his sexily messy hair and toned arms that’s fighting peeking through the sleeve of your shirt that shifted down when he ran his hand through his hair. 

“Is he always this… invasive?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, setting Earl on your lap. “He’s just excited to eat. He likes to make sure everyone knows who’s in charge around here.”

Earl, as if to emphasize your point, let out a demanding meow before jumping off the bed and trotting out the bedroom, clearly demanding breakfast.

Levi sighed, standing and stretching, the hem of his shirt lifting slightly as he did. “Might as well feed him before he gets ideas.”

“Sorry about that,” you said sheepishly, moving to follow him.

Levi glanced at you, his tone dry but not unkind. “Waking up to your cat attacking me is definitely a first.”

You laughed again, grateful for Earl’s impeccable timing. Whatever awkwardness lingered from the moment before was replaced by a quiet, easy rhythm as the two of you prepared yourself for breakfast. 

After the two of you are done with your morning routine, which thankfully you have a spare toothbrush for Levi, the both of you headed to the kitchen. You brought out Earl’s food, laid them out on the counter and opened the fridge, eyes shifting to Levi who quietly followed you to the kitchen.

“Can you feed him while I make breakfast?” you ask, eyes hopeful.

Levi stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, giving Earl a scrutinizing look as the cat meowed expectantly by his food bowl.

“Alright,” he muttered, reaching for the bag of cat food on the counter. “What’s the serving size for this tiny menace?”

“Two scoops,” you said over your shoulder as you pulled out a carton of eggs.

Levi measured out the food with precision, his movements sharp and efficient, as though he were handling something far more serious than feeding a cat. Earl, meanwhile, paced in impatient circles, tail flicking as he let out tiny, demanding meows.

“Pushy, aren’t you?” Levi remarked dryly, crouching to set the bowl down. Earl immediately dove in, devouring the food like he hadn’t eaten in days.

You chuckled from the stove. “He’s got a big personality. Much like someone I know.”

Levi straightened, ignoring your comment and brushing his hands together as he leaned against the counter, watching you work. “Didn’t think I’d be running errands for a cat this morning,” he said, his tone teasing but light.

“Consider it your rent for staying over,” you quipped, cracking an egg into the pan.

He raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “So I get breakfast and a deal on rent? Generous of you.”

You grinned but didn’t reply, focusing on flipping the eggs. The kitchen is filled with the soft sizzle of butter, the smell of toast warming in the toaster, and the quiet hum of your coffee maker brewing fresh coffee while you told Levi to make his own tea that he found on your cupboard. Well, not before voicing out 

“Why does this can of tea have dents on it?” He asked, amused and holding up the can that you bought when you first saw Moblit. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassed at the thought coming back. 

Levi didn’t say much as he moved around the kitchen, tidying up stray items as though it was second nature. He wiped the counter, straightened a dish towel, even refilled Earl’s water bowl when he noticed it wasn’t full. It was kind of funny that you had to say something.

“Do you ever sit still?” you asked, glancing at him from the stove.

“I do,” he replied, his smirk deepening. “Just not when there’s chaos around.”

“It’s not chaos,” you protested, gesturing vaguely around the kitchen.

He gave a small shrug, though his expression softened slightly. “If you say so.”

A comfortable silence settled between you. Levi poured your cup of coffee while you plated breakfast, the two of you moving in sync despite the tight space.

When you finally set the plates down on the table, Levi handed you the cup of coffee, his eyes flicking briefly to yours. “Not bad teamwork.”

You smiled, sitting down across from him. “Earl’s happy, and breakfast’s ready. I’d call that a win.”

Levi gave a soft hum of agreement, picking up his fork. For a moment, it felt easy—like you were two people simply sharing a quiet morning together. It’s like you two were actually friends.

When the two of you were done eating and after winning over Levi as he insisted on washing the dishes by basically having to push Levi out of the kitchen, you place the last of the breakfast dishes in the sink, wiping your hands on a towel as you glance at Levi. He’s still seated at your tiny kitchen table, tea cup in hand, looking unusually relaxed for someone who had a night like his. Earl brushes past his legs before hopping onto the counter, and Levi glares at the cat briefly before returning to his tea.

“So,” you begin, leaning against the counter, “Hange and Moblit’s wedding is coming up. Do you have your gift figured out yet?”

Levi takes a slow sip, barely acknowledging your question. “No.”

“Really? You’re usually so on top of things,” you tease.

“I don’t waste energy on people’s weddings until I have to.”

You chuckle, crossing your arms. “Fair point. But the gift is important, you know. It’s Hange and Moblit. You can’t just show up empty-handed and scowl in the corner.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“Good, because I don’t think Hange would let you live it down,” you quip, walking over to sit across from him. “What are you thinking of getting them, then?”

His gaze shifts to you, expression unreadable. “What do you usually give people who spend their free time terrorizing the streets of Paradis with ‘scientific breakthroughs’?”

You laugh at that, shaking your head. “True. Hange’s one-of-a-kind. Moblit too, honestly, for putting up with her. I guess… something meaningful? Or fun?”

Levi huffs, setting his cup down. “Meaningful. Right. You’re not thinking of one of those ridiculous photo albums, are you?”

“Excuse me?” you say, feigning offense. “Photo albums are sentimental and timeless. Better than, I don’t know, a plain frying pan.”

“High-quality cookware isn’t plain,” Levi replies, deadpan. “It’s practical. They’re starting a household.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, leaning back in your chair. “You think Hange’s going to care about pots and pans? Are we talking about the same Hange?”

Levi doesn’t reply immediately, but the faintest twitch of his lips betrays him.

“What about you?” he asks after a pause.

“What about me?”

“Do you have a gift in mind?”

You hesitate. “Not really. I’ve been busy. Haven’t had time to think about it.”

Levi leans back, arms folding across his chest. “Then figure it out now. We’ll go pick something out this afternoon.”

You blink, caught off guard. “We?”

“Yeah. You clearly need help.”

“And you don’t?”

Levi shrugs. “I’ll manage. But since we’re both clueless, we might as well waste time together.”

A smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. “Fine. But if you even look at cookware, I’m dragging you out of the store.”

“You can try,” he replies smoothly, finishing the last of his tea.

After a while following the conversation, Levi heads home for a bit, wanting to get a proper change of clothes before heading out to your gift shopping. You also took the time to prepare yourself for the day ahead, showering with all your might, choosing a good casual outfit for half an hour, and putting on proper makeup. 

The early afternoon sun filters through the streets as Levi picks you up from your apartment in his car. 

As you arrive at the center of the city, the marketplace buzzes with energy, shoppers weaving in and out of storefronts, vendors calling out to passersby. It’s a lively scene, a stark contrast to the quiet of your apartment just hours ago.

“Alright,” you say, clutching your bag as you walk beside him. “First stop?”

Levi glances around, his expression unreadable but his pace unhurried. “You’re the one who hasn’t thought of anything yet. Pick a store.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a gentleman, truly.”

He doesn’t reply, but the corner of his mouth twitches, and you count that as a victory.

After a few moments of scanning the shops, your eyes land on a boutique with quirky home goods displayed in the window. You grab Levi’s arm without thinking, tugging him toward it.

“This one!”

He stops just short of the door, eyeing the display. “If this is another shop full of useless junk—”

“It’s not junk,” you insist, dragging him inside. “It’s artsy. Hange would love it.”

The interior of the store is as whimsical as its window promised—bright colors, mismatched shelves, and a faint scent of lavender in the air. You immediately start browsing, your eyes flitting over ceramic planters shaped like animals, colorful tapestries, and handmade journals.

Levi follows, his hands in his pockets, clearly unimpressed. “You think they’ll actually use any of this?”

“Hange? Definitely,” you say, picking up a set of oddly shaped wine glasses. “What about these? Functional and fun.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “They look like they’d break if you breathe on them.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” you mutter, setting them down.

As you continue browsing, Levi’s attention is drawn to a small shelf near the back of the store. You glance over, curious, and find him inspecting a sleek, minimalist tea set.

“For Moblit?” you guess, stepping closer.

Levi shrugs, his fingers brushing the edge of the teapot. “He might appreciate it. Keeps him calm when Hange gets… Hange.”

You smile, trying to picture Moblit carefully pouring tea while Hange rambles about her latest experiment. It’s almost too perfect. You also remember how Moblit told you when you first met that it was him who got Hange to actually drink tea. The memory warms your chest, knowing that Moblit is such a good match for your friend.

“I like it,” you say, surprising him. “It’s thoughtful. Let’s keep it in mind and go around one last time.”

He nods, setting the box back down with care as you walk around the store once more to see what else you haven’t spotted.

After deciding that the tea was the best choice, the two of you exit the quirky boutique, armed with a small bag containing the tea set for Moblit and Hange, to be named a gift from Levi. He carries it in one hand, his other tucked neatly into his pocket as he scans the street ahead.

“Alright,” you say, squinting in the sunlight, “one gift down. Now we just need something from me, and something that screams Hange.”

“Nothing screams louder than Hange herself,” Levi mutters, earning a chuckle from you.

As you walk, you glance over at him, curiosity bubbling up. “So… how did Hange and Moblit even happen? He wasn’t around when I left, was he?”

Levi hums, thinking for a moment. “No. Moblit came a little after you left. Fresh out of college, I think. He started working as Hange’s assistant when she was still with that research company.”

“Wait, assistant?” you interrupt, intrigued. “Like, lab assistant?”

“More like someone to keep her from burning the place down,” Levi replies dryly.

You laugh. “Sounds about right.”

Levi continues, his tone casual but laced with a hint of fondness. “They were… chaotic. Moblit was constantly putting out fires, literal and otherwise. But he stuck around. Hange tested his patience in every way possible, and he still showed up every day.”

You nod, smiling at the thought. “So, what, one day they just realized they liked each other?”

Levi shrugs. “Something like that. I didn’t ask for details. One day they were working late nights together; the next, he was the only one who could drag her away from the lab. Took a while, but they figured it out.”

“Sounds like a rom-com,” you muse, hands in your pockets.

Levi glances at you sideways. “Maybe, if your idea of romance includes a lot of yelling and broken glassware.”

“That just adds spice,” you tease, nudging his arm.

He scoffs lightly but doesn’t argue.

As you round a corner, your eyes catch on a brightly lit storefront across the street. The garish neon sign leaves little to the imagination, and your lips curl into a mischievous grin.

“Hey, Levi,” you say, feigning innocence. “What about that place? Think Hange would get a kick out of something from there?”

Levi follows your gaze to the adult shop and stops dead in his tracks. His expression twists into a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

“No,” he says flatly.

“Oh, come on,” you press, barely suppressing your laughter. “It’d be hilarious!”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s so on-brand for her!” you argue, crossing your arms. 

Levi shakes his head firmly. “You can go in there yourself if you want. I’m not stepping foot in that place.”

“Wow, way to be a team player,” you tease, giving him a playful nudge as the two of you continue walking.

“I’m already regretting this,” he mutters, though you catch the faintest hint of a smirk on his face.

The store bell jingles as you and Levi step inside the eclectic shop, a place so jam-packed with trinkets and oddities that it feels like stepping into Hange’s brain. You take a deep breath, the faint scent of sandalwood incense mixed with dust bringing an odd comfort.

“This might be it,” you say, spinning to face Levi.

He scans the chaotic layout of the shop, shelves stacked precariously with knickknacks and books. “This is it? You dragged me here for this?”

“Oh, don’t start,” you say, giving him a playful glare. “You’ve been way too grumpy for someone having a shopping day with me.”

“I didn’t realize I signed up for chaos,” he mutters, though he trails behind you as you dive into the aisles.

You scan the shelves eagerly, your fingers brushing over odd gadgets, vintage postcards, and bizarrely specific books. Levi stands a step behind, hands shoved into his pockets as he glances around disinterestedly.

“Look at this!” you exclaim, holding up a miniature plasma ball. “Hange would love this! She’d put it on her desk and zap it every time she had an idea.”

“She’d break it within a week,” Levi says, unimpressed.

“True.” You laugh, setting it back down and moving further into the shop.

Levi, seemingly resigned to his fate, picks up an intricately carved paperweight shaped like a hyena. He studies it for a second before showing it to you. “This isn’t terrible.”

You squint at it. “Is that because you think it’s practical, or because it reminds you of Hange?”

He shrugs, putting it back without answering, but the slight quirk of his lips betrays him.

Eventually, you stumble upon a small section of quirky inventions. Your eyes land on a device labeled “All-In-One Enthusiast’s Gadget: Compass, Thermometer, and Laser Pointer.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, grabbing it off the shelf. “Levi, look at this!”

He leans in to inspect it. “What even is that?”

“Perfection,” you reply dramatically. “Hange could use this for literally everything. Getting lost on one of her field trips? Compass. Want to mess with someone’s cat? Laser pointer. Need to check if it’s too cold for a jacket? Thermometer!”

“Or,” Levi says, taking it from you, “she’ll use it twice and lose it.”

“That’s… also valid.” You laugh. “But isn’t that the fun of it?”

He sets it back down and picks up a hardcover book titled “Wonders of the World: Unexplained Phenomena and Curious Discoveries.” He flips through the pages, his brow furrowing slightly.

“She’d like this,” he says simply.

You peer over his shoulder, nodding. “You’re right. She loves this kind of stuff. Aliens, strange artifacts, ghosts… She’d devour this.”

“Finally,” he mutters, heading toward the counter with the book.

“Wait!” you say, grabbing the gadget and rushing after him. “We’re getting both.”

He gives you a flat look. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you tease, grinning.

The clerk wraps up the items, commenting on your “unique taste.” Levi pays without hesitation, ignoring your protests.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say as the two of you step outside.

“Think of it as compensation,” he says dryly. “For dragging me into this circus.”

You nudge him with your shoulder. “You’re too kind, Captain Grumpy.”

As you walk, your attention catches on a wedding display in the window of a boutique. The mannequins are dressed in elegant white and black, surrounded by glittering décor. You slow your pace, drawn to the scene.

“They really went all out,” you murmur, your eyes lingering on the intricate details.

Levi pauses beside you, his gaze following yours. After a moment, he speaks, his tone softer than before. “People are different in relationships.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sudden comment.

“Some change to match their partner,” he continues, his eyes still on the display. “Others… lose themselves trying to keep the other happy.”

Your chest tightens at the subtle weight of his words. You can’t help but wonder if he’s hinting at your past together, though he doesn’t look at you or elaborate further.

“Which one do you think you are?” you ask, your voice almost a whisper.

He turns to you then, his expression unreadable. “Neither.”

You don’t press him, and the two of you walk in silence until you reach another store.

“Well,” you say, forcing a lightness into your tone as you point at the boutique across the street. “Should we pick something up for the honeymoon? I’m sure they’d appreciate something… educational.”

Levi follows your gaze, his eyes landing on the unmistakable neon sign of an adult shop. His response is immediate.

“No.”

“Come on, think of the laughs!” you say, grinning at his deadpan expression.

“I said no.”

You laugh, raising your hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. No fun.”

His glare softens as he shakes his head, and for a brief moment, you catch the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Let’s find something else they won’t want to throw out,” he says, leading the way into the next store.

The day stretches into evening, and the vibrant streets of Stohess hum with life as you and Levi step out of the last shop, your shopping bags rustling. In the end, you settled on also giving them a personalized wooden cutting board with their name carved on the corner and on the sides, “may you be filled with the most powerful form of energy—love.” 

The golden glow of the setting sun bathes everything in a warm hue, and your stomach growls, breaking the momentary quiet.

Levi glances at you. “Hungry?”

You nod sheepishly. “Starving. All this gift-hunting works up an appetite.”

“Yeah, who was the one ridiculing kitchenware this morning only to end up with a cutting board?” Levi teased, earning a glare from you. 

He points down the street toward a cozy-looking restaurant with glowing lanterns strung outside. “Let’s eat there. It’s quiet.”

You glance in the direction he’s pointing, nodding in agreement. “Alright, but I need to grab something first. Go ahead and get us a table—I’ll be quick.”

Levi narrows his eyes slightly, skeptical. “What do you need so urgently?”

“Just some essentials I ran out of at home. It won’t take long, promise,” you reply, already stepping away before he can argue.

He sighs but doesn’t press further. “Don’t make me wait too long.”

As Levi makes his way into the restaurant, you slip down the block to a nearby flower stand you’d spotted earlier. Your eyes wander over the small yet colorful selection until a simple bouquet of blue hyacinths and white orchids catches your attention. They’re elegant and understated, much like the man they’re meant for.

“This one, please,” you tell the vendor.

The vendor, a gentle old woman, smiles. “Nice choice.” 

“Perfect,” you murmur, paying the vendor before hurrying back—well, before stopping by one last store, that is. 

Inside the restaurant, Levi sits at a window-side table, glancing at the menu with his usual calm demeanor. The warm glow of the lanterns outside casts soft light across his face, making him look more relaxed than usual. When you approach, flowers hidden behind your back, his eyes flick up, noting your arrival.

“Took you long enough,” he remarks, his tone laced with mild exasperation.

“I come bearing peace,” you say with a grin, revealing the bouquet.

Levi blinks, momentarily stunned. “Flowers?”

“For you,” you say, setting them gently on the table in front of him. 

He stares at the flowers for a beat before letting out a quiet sigh, though there’s a faint hint of color on his cheeks. “You’re unbelievable.”

“In a good way, I hope,” you tease, sitting down across from him. “Did you know men rarely get flowers?” 

He picks up the bouquet carefully, his fingers brushing against the petals. “I do. And they’re… nice,” he mutters, setting them aside with practiced nonchalance. “Thanks.”

You can’t help but smile at his reaction, knowing he’s not the type to gush over such things. The server arrives, and the two of you place your orders, the warmth of the restaurant and the soft glow of the evening making everything feel a little more intimate.

“So,” Levi begins once the server leaves. “What was so urgent that you had to leave me standing here like an idiot?”

“Already told you—essentials,” you say lightly. “The flowers were just an extra.”

“Hm,” he replies, though his expression softens ever so slightly as he glances at the bouquet again.

The small, cozy restaurant Levi had chosen was warm and inviting, with the scent of freshly baked bread and simmering herbs wafting through the air. The two of you sat by the window, the quiet hum of conversation around you providing a pleasant backdrop.

“You’re predictable, you know,” you tease as Levi scans the menu.

His eyes flick up to meet yours. “How so?”

“Always going for the places with minimal crowds and simple menus,” you reply, gesturing around the understated interior.

“Simple is better,” he says matter-of-factly. “Less room for error.”

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Right, because a chaotic place would just ruin your whole day.”

“Exactly,” he deadpans, but the faintest twitch of his lips gives him away.

The server arrives, and after placing your orders, you lean back in your seat, folding your arms. “So, do you ever relax, or is this just a lifelong state of being?”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Fair point,” you concede, chuckling. “But seriously, don’t you ever just… let loose? Try something new, something out of your comfort zone lately?”

He considers this for a moment. “Define ‘letting loose.’”

“I don’t know, karaoke? Trying spicy food? Wearing something other than black?”

“I’ve done all those things,” he counters, taking a sip of water.

“Wait, you’ve done karaoke?” you ask, incredulous.

You remember back in college, he would just sit in the corner whenever you and your friends would have karaoke night. 

“I was coerced,” he admits, looking vaguely annoyed at the memory.

“By Hange, I bet,” you say, laughing.

“Who else?” he mutters, shaking his head.

The conversation drifts to lighter topics as the food arrives, and you find yourself relaxing more than you’d expected. The two of you share observations about the other diners, recalling old inside jokes, and even debating which of the dishes you ordered was better.

At one point, Levi surprises you by asking, “So, what’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve done recently?”

You blink at him. “Ridiculous?”

“Yeah,” he says, leaning back slightly. “Something impulsive. Out of character.”

You think for a moment, then grin. “I once sang the entire theme song of a kid’s cartoon during a work karaoke night. Sober.”

Levi’s eyebrows lift. “Why?”

“I panicked,” you admit, laughing. “It was the only thing I could think of under pressure.”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “You really are something else.”

“Is that your way of saying you’re impressed?” you tease.

“Don’t push it,” he replies, but there’s an unmistakable warmth in his tone.

When you are done eating, the server clears away your plates, leaving the two of you nursing your drinks. The warm, ambient lighting softens Levi’s sharp features as he leans back slightly in his chair, fingers loosely clasped around his glass.

“Do you miss it?” he asks suddenly, his tone casual, but his gaze steady.

“Miss what?” you reply, sipping your drink.

“Working for your old boss. You spent years there, didn’t you?” he asks, swirling the liquid in his glass.

You tilt your head, studying him. “Why the sudden interest?”

He shrugs. “Just wondering if you were happy back then.”

The question catches you off guard. You shift in your seat, glancing out the window briefly before returning your focus to him. “It was… different. I mean, Vanessa was a great boss, and I learned a lot.”

You pause, setting your glass down. “But yeah… I do,” you admit, the words coming out softer than you expected.

Levi raises an eyebrow, clearly curious. “Why?”

“She wasn’t just my boss,” you begin, leaning back slightly in your chair. “Vanessa was like family to me. Her house… her world… It felt like a second home. After work, we’d have these barbecues in her backyard, nothing fancy. Just her kids running around, her husband trying not to burn the chicken, and me trying to keep up with her stories about law school.”

Levi listens quietly, his fingers resting lightly on his glass. “Sounds… normal. Too normal for someone who was running herself into the ground.”

You smile faintly. “It didn’t feel like work with her. She was always pushing me, yes, but she made me feel like I belonged. When we celebrated wins, it wasn’t some formal dinner with suits and speeches. It was burgers and laughter. She’d pop open a bottle of champagne for even the smallest victories and let her kids spray me with the hose afterward.”

He hums, his expression softening, though his voice remains steady. “You were happy.”

“I was,” you admit, staring at the table for a moment before meeting his gaze. “She saw me through some tough times. I owe her a lot.”

“Does she know that?” Levi asks, tilting his head.

You chuckle. “Oh, she does. She likes to remind me every chance she gets. She even jokes that I’m a daughter she didn’t ask for but is stuck with anyway.”

Levi’s lips twitch, almost forming a smile. “Bet you were more trouble than her actual kids.”

“Probably,” you admit, laughing. “But she never made me feel like it. She just… had a way of making everything feel manageable. Even the messiest cases.”

Levi’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, as though he’s weighing something in his mind. Finally, he speaks. “So why leave all that behind?”

You pause, the weight of his question settling heavily in your chest. “Because I had to,” you say quietly. Leaving Trost felt like the right thing when she asked you to. Something was pulling you back in Paradis, no matter how… scared you were. 

He doesn’t press further, and for that, you’re grateful. Instead, he shifts the conversation slightly, his voice casual. “And those barbecues… were they a regular thing?”

“Every couple of weeks,” you reply with a nostalgic smile. “She’d always say, ‘Lawyers need to remember they’re human too.’”

Levi leans back, studying you. “Maybe she had a point.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you implying I’ve forgotten how to be human?”

“Not completely,” he says dryly. “But you’re getting there.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

The playful banter feels easy, almost natural. For the first time in a long while, you sense a sliver of your old self shining through. Levi’s sharp wit and steady presence ground you, even as the conversation drifts into lighter territory.

You laugh softly, changing the topic with something you recalled. “You know, one time, Earl accidentally jumped into a Zoom meeting with client.”

“Your cat had better networking skills than you,” Levi remarks dryly, though the faintest smile plays at his lips.

“Apparently,” you quip, shaking your head. “But those moments were rare. Most of the time, it was just work, work, work.”

Your companion tilts his head. “What about work? Was it fulfilling?”

You blink at him, a bit thrown by the unexpected depth of the question. You take a moment to think, swirling the remnants of your drink. “Well… there was one time Vanessa let me lead a case solo. It was a small one, but I was terrified. I stayed up all night preparing. When I won, she told me she was proud of me. That meant a lot.”

Levi nods, his expression unreadable. “Sounds like she saw something in you.”

“She did,” you admit, a small smile tugging at your lips. “More than I saw in myself at the time.”

A comfortable silence settles between you for a moment before you glance at him, tilting your head. “Why are you asking me this, anyway?”

He shrugs again, leaning back in his chair. 

“Just trying to figure out if all that time away was worth it for you.”

Your chest tightens slightly at his words, and you look down at your glass, tracing the rim with your finger. “I’m not sure yet,” you say quietly, then force a lighter tone. “But hey, at least I got to meet some interesting people. Like that client who tried to pay me with chickens.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “Chickens?”

“Three of them,” you confirm with a grin. “And they weren’t even food. Just… alive. In cages.”

He snorts softly, shaking his head. “You have a knack for finding the weirdest situations.”

“Or they find me,” you counter, chuckling.

The moment feels lighter again, the tension dissipating as you trade a few more jokes about your bizarre work experiences. But beneath it all, you sense an unspoken understanding between the two of you—a recognition of how much has changed, and how much still lingers.

By the time the check arrives, you feel lighter than you have in weeks. As you step out of the restaurant, the conversation continues with the same easy rhythm, and you can’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, the space between you and Levi isn’t as wide as it once was.

As the server sets the check on the table, you reach for it before Levi can. 

“I could’ve gotten that,” he protests, narrowing his eyes at you.

“You bought some of the wedding gifts,” you counters flatly, tucking your card into the black folder. “Consider us even. Also, I’m not that broke.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn't argue further. The meal had been better than you’d expected—both the food and the company. As you shrug on your coat, Levi glances at the bags holding Hange and Moblit’s gifts.

“Do you have gift wrap at home?” he asks.

You pause, blinking at him. “Uh, no. I was just going to buy some tomorrow.”

He shakes his head as he stands, adjusting his jacket. “That’s a waste of time. I have everything at my place.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You have gift wrap? Since when are you so prepared for weddings?”

Levi smirks faintly. “I’m not. But Hange made me wrap some ridiculous thing for her last year, and I still have leftovers.”

You chuckle, imagining the scenario. “Of course she did.”

“Come on,” he says, grabbing the bags. “We’ll get it done tonight.”

“Are you inviting me over to your place to wrap gifts?” you tease as you follow him outside.

“It’s practical,” he replies simply, leading the way toward his car. “Unless you’re planning on hauling this around tomorrow.”

You hesitate, not entirely sure if you should. But his tone is casual, and the evening had been nice. To be entirely honest, you also didn’t want to part with him yet. “Okay,” you agree, stepping into the passenger seat.

After agreeing to stay the night at his place, you told him that you should get some things at your apartment first. 

Levi parks the car in front of your building, throwing the gear into park with an ease that feels second nature. He glances at you as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“You don’t have to come up,” you say, reaching for the door handle.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re not carrying all that by yourself.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue, knowing his stubbornness would win out anyway. As you unlock the front door and lead him inside, you feel a flicker of self-consciousness. Was it really casual to stay over at a friend’s place overnight just to wrap some gifts? What are the two of you even doing?

“Give me a minute,” you mumble, stepping into your bedroom to grab a change of clothes and your overnight bag.

Levi remains in the living room, scanning his surroundings with quiet observation. Earl, as if on cue, saunters out from his hiding spot and rubs against Levi’s leg, purring loudly. Levi chuckles softly, glancing down at the fluffy gray cat.

“Hey buddy,” he calls, his voice flat.

You poke your head out of the bedroom, grinning. “Well, aren’t the two of you best buds already?” 

“He’s shedding on my pants,” Levi mutters, though he doesn’t move away.

“He likes you,” you note, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “That’s what you get for feeding him once.”

Earl jumps onto the couch, staring at Levi with curious green eyes. Levi sighs and scratches the cat’s head tentatively, earning an enthusiastic purr.

You smirk, pulling out Earl’s carrier. “Looks like you’re taking him, too.”

“What?” Levi’s eyes widened slightly. For a moment, you feel bad for making him take the cat. He’s probably worried about the mess. But Earl’s a good cat anyway. 

“You can’t expect me to leave him alone overnight,” you say, scooping Earl into the carrier. “He’ll hate me for it. Besides, you two are bonding.”

Levi grumbles something under his breath, but when you hand him the carrier, he takes it without protest.

Back in the car, Earl meows loudly from his carrier, the sound echoing in the confined space.

“He’s dramatic,” you say, glancing at Levi, who looks vaguely amused.

“He fits in,” Levi deadpans, keeping his eyes on the road.

You laugh, leaning back in your seat as you navigate through the city. By the time you reach Levi’s apartment, you’re surprisingly relaxed, the earlier awkwardness replaced by a faint sense of familiarity.

Levi unlocks the door to his apartment and steps aside, letting you and Earl inside. You take a moment to glance around, still impressed by how neat and minimalistic his space is—dark wood tones, simple furniture, and barely any personal clutter. It’s quintessentially Levi.

Earl, now out of his carrier, sniffs cautiously before hopping onto the couch like he owns the place. Levi watches the cat with a raised brow.

“He’s making himself at home,” you tease, setting your overnight bag by the door.

“Better not scratch the furniture,” Levi mutters, though he doesn’t move to shoo Earl off.

You grin, pulling the bag of gifts onto the coffee table. As you do, you notice that he’d already found a place for the bouquet you gave him. It’s already settled in a vase on the same coffee table, the action earning a smile from you.

“Okay, let’s get started,” You clapped your hands cheerfully. 

Levi fetches a roll of brown kraft paper, scissors, and tape from a nearby drawer, placing them on the table with precision. You sit cross-legged on the floor, unboxing one of the gifts. Levi sits across from you, his expression vaguely skeptical as you spread out the paper.

“Do you even know how to wrap properly?” he asks.

“I’m offended,” you say, mock gasping. “I haven’t done this in a while, okay? Don’t worry. Once I get the hang of it, I’m an expert.”

He smirks, grabbing one of his own gifts and starts taking them out of the bags. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

With an exaggerated flourish, you start wrapping the premium wooden cutting board, carefully creasing the edges and taping it with precision. Levi watches quietly, his amusement growing as you fumble with the ribbon.

“Need help?” he finally offers, taking pity on you as the ribbon slips out of your grasp for the third time.

“No!” you insist, stubbornly tying a lopsided bow. “It’s perfect. Rustic charm.”

Levi chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he picks up the next gift—the boxed tea set that was his first pick for the day. His movements are deliberate, his sharp focus turning the task of wrapping into an art form.

“Well, aren’t you the gift-wrapping expert?” you observe, impressed.

“Had to,” he replies simply. “Kuchel made me wrap gifts for the restaurant staff every year, remember?”

You smile softly, recalling a younger Levi meticulously wrapping presents in the back of the restaurant. You didn’t actually see him do it before but you remember him telling you about it when you asked what he was doing one time. 

“Yeah… I remember,” you respond, making him pause and look at your face. You don’t look back at him, opting to look at the gift he was wrapping, but you can see him scrutinizing your reminiscing countenance. 

As you work, the silence between you grows comfortable. Earl curls up in a corner, watching lazily as you and Levi finish wrapping the gifts. When the last package is placed on the table, you lean back with a satisfied sigh.

“Done,” you announce, admiring your handiwork.

Levi glances at the slightly crooked ribbon on your gift and smirks. “Barely.”

You playfully nudge his leg with your foot. “Whatever. It’s the thought that counts.”

“Oh, wait! One last gift,” you exclaim, grabbing the same handbag that you had earlier in the day. You giggle in excitement, fishing for the plastic bag.

“Aha!” You shout as you find it, taking it out and shoving it in Levi’s face as you wave it around to show him. 

His mouth drops when he realizes what you were holding. The realization makes his face immediately redden and turn away, dodging the item in your hand. 

“What the fuck? When did you even—,” he sighed. “I knew you had a funny look on your face when you said essentials.”

“It’s essential for a young, married couple to find out their tastes in sex,” you argue, grabbing a wrapping paper. “Also, I got a good deal on it. Look? It’s a variety of things, see?”

You point at the box, showing him what’s the inclusion for the box set you bought. 

Levi sighs, closing his eyes. “I don’t even want to think about it. Don’t put that picture in my head right now.” 

You giggled, happily wrapping the gift and adding a note that says “open it on your honeymoon night.”

By the time the last ribbon was tied and the neatly wrapped gifts sat in a corner of Levi’s living room, the evening had begun to fade into night. The soft light from the table lamp cast a warm glow over the room, and the quiet hum of the city outside filtered faintly through the windows.

You stretched your arms above your head, stifling a yawn as you glanced at the clock. “Well, that’s everything,” you said, nodding toward the small pile of gifts. “They’re going to love these.”

Levi stood nearby, carefully clearing the scattered bits of tape and wrapping paper. His movements were precise, almost methodical, but you could tell he was tired. He straightened, his gaze flicking briefly to you. “I think we got too much,” he muttered, making you laugh.

You hesitated for a moment, looking at him as he carried the last of the scraps to the trash. There was something unspoken lingering between you, a quiet tension that had been growing all day. Not uncomfortable, but not entirely easy either—a fragile balance teetering between familiarity and something… unresolved.

Clearing your throat, you offered him a small smile. “Thanks for today. For, you know, coming with me and asking me to do this and… everything else. I had a good time.”

Levi paused by the trash bin, his back to you for a beat before he turned, his expression unreadable. “It’s fine,” he said simply, but his tone was softer than usual. “Thank you too… for the flowers.”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the sudden need to fill the silence. “Well, I should get to bed. It’s been a long day.”

Levi nodded, gesturing toward the hallway. “Guest room’s ready.”

You turned to leave, but stopped after a few steps. “Levi?” you called softly.

He looked up, his gray eyes meeting yours. “What?”

“I just… I’m glad we’re doing this. You and me, I mean. Trying to…” You trailed off, searching for the right words but finding none. Instead, you settled for a quiet, “Good night.”

For a moment, Levi didn’t reply, and you wondered if you’d said too much. But then his gaze softened, almost imperceptibly, and he gave a small nod. “Good night.”

You retreated down the hall, the sound of your footsteps faint against the hardwood floor. As you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the day settle over you—a mix of warmth, nostalgia, and a faint thread of hope.

Unbeknownst to you, Levi lingered in the living room for a while longer, his gaze resting on the gifts you’d wrapped together and the flowers on his coffee table. 

Levi sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the bouquet of blue hyacinths and white orchids on the coffee table. The delicate petals caught the dim light of the lamp, their colors muted yet vivid against the quiet tones of his apartment.

He reached out, lightly brushing a finger along the edge of a petal. His mind drifted, unbidden, to a memory he hadn’t revisited in years.

It was a warm spring evening during college, the kind of night where the air was cool but the sky was clear. He had just won first place in an essay-writing competition, something he hadn’t thought much of at the time. You had, though.

Levi remembered the rooftop you’d both snuck onto after the ceremony, a quiet place away from the noise of the world. He had been sitting on the ledge, his arms draped over his knees, while you rummaged through your pockets with a mischievous grin.

“What are you doing?” he had asked, arching an eyebrow at your unusual excitement.

“Celebrating, obviously,” you had replied, pulling out handfuls of flower petals you’d somehow collected throughout the day.

Before he could respond, you tossed a handful into the air, the soft rain of petals cascading over him. Levi had groaned, brushing a few off his hair, but he couldn’t stop the slight upward twitch of his lips.

“You’re ridiculous,” he had muttered, though the words lacked any real bite.

“You’re a champion,” you had countered, your laughter bright and unrestrained as you grabbed another handful and threw them again.

He had watched you then, your face lit up with joy, your laughter echoing in the stillness of the night. The sight of you—carefree, radiant, unapologetically yourself—had struck something deep within him. It was one of the rare moments when the walls he’d built around himself felt a little less sturdy.

And now, years later, as he sat in his quiet apartment, the memory came rushing back with startling clarity.

The bouquet on the table felt like an echo of that night, a fragment of a past he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully understand. He wondered if you remembered it too when you told him that men rarely receive flowers in their life. He had received a few, especially on graduation and when Stohess Stone took off. But the petals you rained on him that night… that was the first flowers he had ever received. 

With a quiet exhale, Levi leaned back, his gaze lingering on the flowers for a moment longer before he pushed himself up. 

But the memory stayed with him as he turned off the lights and headed to his bedroom, the image of your laughter and the gentle rain of petals lingering in his mind like a soft, bittersweet dream.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. reblogs, asks, and comments are also greatly appreciated. thank you.

[fanfics4all]

Summer Fling

Request: Yes / No  Hi, I'm a new follower so I don't know if you accept requests, but I've been OBSESSED with Sweet pea. Unfortunately my Riverdale phase came back, since then I've been creating imagine scenarios with Sweet Pea, well, more specifically, Sweet Pea having a "summer fling" with a reader who has the appearance and personality of Liv Rooney and was super friends with Betty or Cheryl (and it would be as if Josie didn't exist or had never been involved with Sweet Pea but the reader) Anon

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Sweet Pea x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 776

Warnings: Nothing really, sad ending I suppose?

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The summer in Riverdale was supposed to be ordinary. Lazy afternoons with Betty, trips to Pop’s, and avoiding the Southside drama that always seemed to creep into the picture. I hadn’t expected it to be anything more than just a short break before heading back to my life in the city, but then I met Sweet Pea. 

It started at one of Cheryl’s infamous bonfires. Betty had convinced me to come, saying it would be ‘fun and totally safe.’. I wasn’t so sure about the safe part, especially when I spotted the Serpents hanging around the edges of the firelight, their leather jackets catching the glow like something out of a movie. Sweet Pea was with them, leaning casually against his bike, arms crossed, and smile tugging at his lips. I saw him around before, mostly in the background of Betty’s stories about Riverdale’s chaos, but we never talked. That night though, he noticed me. When our eyes met, this spark, a flicker of curiosity in his dark gaze, made my heart skip a beat. 

“You don’t look like you’re from around here.” He said when he finally approached me. His voice was low and teasing. I raised a brow, trying not to let his intense stare throw me off. 

“And you don’t look like you talk to girls who aren’t from around here.” I shot back, folding my arms. To my surprise, he laughed, a genuine sound that made the butterflies in my stomach stir. 

“Fair enough.” He said, holding his hand out. 

“Names Sweet Pea.” 

“Y/N.” I replied, shaking his hand and feeling the warmth of his touch linger a little longer than it should have. 

That was the beginning of it all. Sweet Pea wasn’t like the guys I usually hung around. He was bold, a little rough around the edges, and completely different from what I expected. But there was also a softness to him, hidden beneath his Sperpent persona and the smirks, I couldn’t help but be drawn to it. Our ‘fling’ started with stolen moments, late-night drives on his bike, secret meetings at Sweetwater River, and whispered conversations under the stars. He showed me a side of Riverdale I’ve never seen before, the hidden beauty in the chaos, and I showed him that there was more to life than just surviving. 

One night, we snuck into the movie theater after hours and shared a thing of popcorn he had somehow managed to swipe from the concession stand. 

“So, what’s a girl like you doing in a town like this?” He asked, his tone playful. 

“Visiting my Grandma.” I smiled. 

“And maybe having the time of my life with a guy who’s way cooler than he lets on.” Sweets raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. 

“Cooler than I let on? You sure about that?” I laughed, pushing him lightly. 

“Don’t let it go to your head.” He smiled, a soft genuine smile that made my heart race. 

“You’re different, Y/N, in a good way.” 

“Good different?” I teased, though my voice was soft. 

“The best kind.” He whispered, his gaze locking with mine. 

As much as I tried to keep things light, I couldn’t help but feel something deeper growing between us. But we both knew it couldn’t last. I was only in Riverdale for the summer and Sweet Pea’s world was here, tangled up in the Sperpents and everything that came with that. 

The night before I left, we met by the river, sitting on a blanket as the water glimmered under the moonlight. Neither of us said much, the weight of the inevitable hanging between us. Finally, Sweet Pea turned to me, his expression serious. 

“I wish you didn’t have to go…” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

“Me too, but we knew this wasn’t forever.” 

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.” He muttered, his jaw clenching. I reached out, taking his hand in mine. 

“This summer… it meant everything to me, Sweets. You mean everything to me.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite place. Sadness, hope, maybe even love? 

“You’re not going to forget me, are you?” 

“Never.” I promised, leaning in and pressing my forehead against his. 

“And you better not forget me either.” He pulled me into a kiss, slow and lingering. It was like he was trying to hold onto the moment as long as he could. When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his hand cradling my face. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He whispered. 

“Goodbye, Sweet Pea.” I said, my voice breaking.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1  @emo-godess-loves-you @hiya-imthatgirl @mindsetjupiter @averysinclaire @mittelerde1999 @sweetest-peas @rousewriter @camiconfessions-blog @thecaptainsgingersnap @cenyddtheunicorn @jacksxsouthsideserpents @lover2448 @mamacobie13  @staygoldsquatchling02 @wanderlust-and-poetry @hiighdeex3 @ayeitsjaz @skeletalwolfcat @scarrasco1325 @reblogserpent @darkestbeforethedawn16 @fandom-princess-forevermore @will-noble-owns-my-ass @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @madebyleftovermuses @liz-owl

[buggybambi]

promise me? | carmen berzatto

rating: | cw: mentions of mikey’s death/funeral, a few timeskips, afab/fem!reader, angst/fluff content, unfinished ending i guess (i’m so down to write a part two if yall ask for it tbh)

nav post

request: “a more angsty idea would be that reader was dating Michael and no one knew she was pregnant when he died… so in order to avoid making their family sad/starting conflict, carmy agrees to pretend that they’re dating and it’s his kid? “

Since the funeral four months ago, your world had felt.. emptier.

Michael Berzatto was your everything. He was the boy in high school who threw rocks at your window, who climbed inside to make out with you on your bed until he fell asleep holding you close, only sneaking out to avoid your parents learning about his visits.

He was the guy who would make a big deal out of every small accomplishment. He was the person who you planned on spending the rest of your life with.

That was until everything happened. One phone call from the Chicago Police Department, and your entire view of the future had been shifted. There was one less person in it.

You didn’t talk to his family much anymore. His younger brother, Carmen, was the only person you really kept in touch with. You called Sugar every so often, and you’d send Donna a check-in text every week or so.

You knew Carmy was in New York, and he hadn’t come to the funeral. You weren’t expecting to see him again until he showed up on your doorstep.

The one thing he wasn’t expecting? You to open the door, tears in your eyes and a pregnancy test in your clenched hand.

“Hey, are you okay?” is the first thing Carmen says. He wraps his arms around you, trying to soothe you in anyway he can. A slight head shake from you and you taking a step back, holding the test out for him to see.

“I’m pregnant. The one person I should be able to tell.. isn’t fucking here.” Your soft voice breaks his heart. It’s the rush of realization that comes first.

The fact that, you’re pregnant with Mikey’s baby.

And Mikey is dead.

“Y/N, we can.. we’ll figure this out.” He promises in a whisper, and you shake your head, more tears streaming. “How?! How am I supposed to do this by myself?” You ask, and you fall into Carmen’s arms, crying on his shoulder. He could care less about the tear stains on his white tee.

If Mikey were here, if there was a way to talk to his dead brother right now, he know what he’d say: “take care of her. Take care of my baby for me.”

“You aren’t alone. You have me.” He swears.

It’s what his brother would want.

“Promise me?” You request quietly. And he nods, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“I promise.” He repeats.

──

You knew bringing up the pregnancy to Mikey’s family would be.. rough. Sugar and Donna would be upset, with Donna resenting every choice you make.

It would be chaos. So, you kept it a secret, which was harder than it seemed.

You and Carmen had it planned out. To start “dating” two months later, and lie about the timeline of your pregnancy. No one had to know other than you two.

You and Carmen announced your pregnancy to the Berzatto clan three months later, seven months after Mikey died. All of it felt rushed and you found yourself having to force yourself to slow down.

Thankfully, though, Carmen was by your side through it all. Moving in with you and helping set up the nursery, which you made sure to send photos of to Natalie and Donna.

You were there for him when he took over the Beef. It was a while before you found the strength to go back there again, reminiscing on the times you spent in there with Mikey. Him flirting with you as you volunteered your time behind the counter.

Once you had, you found yourself in the same spot you were nearly a year ago. Laughing with Tina and Marcus, threatning jerks with Richie. Even making friends with the new chef, Sydney.

Carmen thought it was good for you. He found himself smiling in the back office as he heard your familiar, light laughter and calming voice.

“You were deeply missed!” Marcus says as he hugs you while you laugh. “So, how’s pregnancy going?” Tina asks as you sigh. “It is a bitch sometimes. But this little one will be worth it.”

“Can I just say.. thank you for bringing a smile to my brother’s face. Seriously. He hasn’t been this happy in a while.” Natalie says as you nod. “It isn’t just me. You guys play a huge part in that.”

“Yeah kid but none of us are having his baby.” Marcus points out. “I should hope not.” You reply, and that’s when the kitchen fills with laughter.

It felt like you were at home again. Carmen wasn’t the only one smiling again.

──

You stood in the nursery, your bump larger. It felt surreal to believe how far you’d come.

You were in your third trimester, 38 weeks pregnant. The nursery looked gorgeous, with a shelf close to the door holding photos from the maternity photoshoot you and Carmen did as well as sonograms pictures.

You wanted to memorialize Mikey in the room as well. A frame sits on the shelf near the sonogram, containing a photo of Natalie, Carmen and Mikey as kids.

You run a hand over Mikey’s spot in the photo, shaking your head and setting it on the shelf. “I remember the day that photo was taken. Mike hated that shirt. That was the only good photo that our mom decided to keep.” Natalie says, entering the room with a glass of water for you.

You accept it, only to nearly drop the glass when a tightening in your stomach forms. It’s at that moment you realize - your water broke, you’re having contractions and.. you’re in labor.

It’s a frenzy from there. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. You waddling-running out to the car, Natalie following behind with the bags while you begin calling Carmen’s phone repeatedly. Time feels like it’s slowed.

It isn’t until you’re at Chicago Medical and being wheeled down the hallway to your labor and delivery room that you realize two things:

1. You’re actually having this baby.

2. Mikey won’t be here to see it.

Some part of you, the part that hasn’t been hitten by the grief yet and the same part that won’t accept he’s gone, is now being hit with the grief. The realization he won’t just come into the room and come back into the room or your life again. It doesn’t rush over you, it drowns you instead.

Maybe it was just the pregnancy excitement and rush. Things hadn’t felt real since the funeral and now? Now they were forcing themselves to be accepted. Forcing you to realize that this is occuring.

It isn’t until you’re alone in the room that you allow the tears to break free. Your vision feels blurred as your heart aches for a man whose gone. One who isn’t here anymore and you can’t change that.

The sight that Carmy finds in the hospital room hurts his heart. It’s quiet, the beeping of monitors that are keeping an eye on your vitals, the baby’s vitals, contractions is the only noise filling the room. You’re seated upright, your eyes exhausted.

“Hi. How are you?” He asks softly as he walks over. He hesitantely puts a hand on your face to brush some of the hair away, and you allow it. You sigh, your face relaxing when he cradles your face like you’re the most precious thing.

“It hit me.” You say softly. “I let myself grieve for a week before his funeral, and then at least three afterward. And then I found out I was pregnant and I bottled it up because I couldn’t do it anymore. And now it hit me again. That I’m having his baby and he’s not going to get to meet him, or her.” Your fists clench at the anger of it.

There are five known stages of grief. Denial, anger, barganing, depression and acceptance. You were on the second stage: anger.

There’s nothing Carmen can say. No words to make it all better, he knows that from his own experience and people trying with him. So, instead, he stays quiet and he lets you get it out.

You exhale, laying back with his help as he props a pillow for you. “Thank you for being here.” You say softly as he takes your hand in his, entertwining your fingers. “I made a promise to be here with you through all of this.”

He intends to keep that promise.

──

‘Roan Michael Berzatto’. Eight pounds, six ounces. Born at 11:37 AM.

Most of the labor process felt like a blur. You remember crying, a lot, and Carmen holding your hand and letting you squeeze while you push, doctors and nurses overlapping each other as they speak to you. Sweat pooling on your forehead as a nurse wiped it away.

Roan looks like Mikey. He has his eyes, his nose, even the same small smile when he sleeps. It’s faint, but it’s there.

His entire hand wraps around Carmen’s pinky while he holds him. There’s a warm aura in the room, the sunlight filling the room perfectly.

You sit, watching them. Carmy walks over and sits beside you on the bed while he puts your son on his legs, as you look down at him. “He really does look like Mike.” You say softly, and Carmen laughs.

There’s a quiet in the air before he speaks again. “I love you.” He says softly. “I know maybe this isn’t the right time to tell you that, but I had to. We agreed to tell everyone this is our son and I want to keep that up, but I want more for us. I want you and I to.. be something more.”

You don’t say anything more, instead you lean over and press your lips against his, letting yourself embrace him. To take in what it feels like to kiss him, be this close to him.

Your world was suddenly full again.

[vernons-girl]

Hey, could I request a Vernon Drabble where he asks the gender neutral reader to move in with him? Just something super fluffy and stuff :)

Thank you💕

a home in us | chwe vernon

fluff,w.c:0.6k

a/n: this is much longer than a drabble is supposed to be???? i'm sorry i got carried away-

Vernon sat on his slightly worn out couch, clammy hands rubbing against the rough material of his pants and his heart pounding with nervous excitement as he awaited your arrival. He looked around his apartment, imagining how much brighter it would be with you by his side every day. It was time to take the leap, but Vernon wanted this moment to be as special as you were to him, so little did you know, he had prepared a little something for you.

As you arrived at Vernon's apartment, you went in, knowing he had left the door opened for you just like everytime you were coming over. Once you made it to the living room, you found Vernon in his favorite classic jeans and t-shirt combo and a sheepish grin apparent on his lips.

"Hey there, Y/N! Welcome to my humble abode!" he said dramatically upon seeing you step inside the room.

You chuckled at Vernon's attempt at decorating, he had banners hanging haphazardly from different side of the rooms and blankets and cushions arranged in a way that screamed 'burglary aftermath'.

"What on earth have you been up to, Vernon?" you questioned, smiling widely.

Vernon shrugged, his grin widening as he gestured to the chaos around you two. "Just trying to spruce the place up a bit. You know, make it more 'us'."

Your heart swelled at his words, realizing just how much you adored this man and his unique, yet special way of expressing love. "Well, you've certainly succeeded on that part," you said, laughing.

Vernon took a deep breath, nerves fluttering in his stomach as he took your hands in his. "Y/N, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Something that's been on my mind for a while now."

Your gaze softened, your heart almost skipping a beat as you looked up from your joined hands into Vernon's eyes. "What is it Vern?"

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his eyes squeezing shut as if it would help him focus. With his voice filled with a sudden determination, he said :

"I love you, Y/N. I love every messy, chaotic part of you. But also all the neat and ever so perfect parts don't get me wrong!" he rambled cutely, "And I can't imagine my life without you in it. So, what do you say we take this a step further and become roommates?"

You looked at him with wide eyes, "Roomates?" you inquired teasingly.

"I mean.. would you move in with me? As my girlfriend, not a roomate." he rectified, his face red as he looked down at the floor, awaiting your answer.

It was touching really, the lengths to which he went to organize all of this, usually, Vernon was a man of a few actions, words were more his things, so this was ever more so endearing. You couldn't help but feel moved about the fact that he was ready to welcome you in his personal space. The physical one, of course, because not only were you already part of each other's lives but from that point on you would be a part of each other's routine and days, and you couldn't be happier than at this very moment. You threw your arms around him, holding him close, the tip of your noses touching as you whispered against his lips : "Yes, Vernon. I'll move in with you. A thousand times yes."

He leaned forward and kissed you passionately, happy that you accepted to join him in this adventure of building a home together.

And in that moment, amidst the laughter and the love, Vernon and you knew that you had found your home in each other.

[imagineanime2022]

Sebastian Meets Reader

No Pairing Really

Word Count: 2419

Requested: Anon @siriuslyblackonback

Request: Wait omg so as I was reading your fics with the cross over of obey me and black butler an idea popped into mind

What if sebastian and ciel finally witnessed all the chaos that mc has to go through and how easily mc is able to control the most powerful of demons or how basically the fate of all 3 realms is up to MC👀

Sebastian And Barbatos Meet 

Sebastian Meets The Demon Brothers

You stretched as you sat up, you glanced over at Mammon who was still sound asleep, you gently run your hand through his hair before reaching over for your DDD, to check you messages, you saw one from Lucifer asking you to meet him in his office before breakfast, you flung your legs over the edge of the bed, you glanced back at Mammon one more time to make sure that he was still asleep before going into the bathroom and getting ready for your day. When you came back out Mammon was sitting up in bed “where are ya goin’?” He asked, reaching out for you, you got close enough that he could wrap his arms around your waist. “Lucifer asked me to go see him this morning, so I’m going to his office.” You explained and he whined. “But you're supposed to be stayin’ with me.” He complained. “Keep a seat free at breakfast, I’ll sit next to you.” You promise pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Get dressed.” You shuffled out of the room and headed towards Lucifer’s office.

You were walking past the kitchen when you stopped, you could see Sebastian in there “Are you cooking?” You asked sticking your head into the kitchen, he smiled at you as he moved to the side showing the breakfast food that he had already cooked. “Woah this is all human food.” “They don’t cook human food for you?” Sebastian asked with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t think that we could get it so I never really asked.” You admitted “plus the food from Devildom isn’t that bad.” “What’s that smell?” You glanced back at Beel who was heading towards the kitchen. “It’s breakfast Beel but you have to wait patiently.” You told him, his face resembled that of a kicked puppy. “Stop that, it won't be much longer.” You smirked as he couldn’t seem to stop the playful smile from stretching across his face. “Come sit with me!” He said. “I promised Mammon I’d sit with him so you can sit on the other side but I have to see Lucifer first.” You explained and he nodded. “Okay I’ll save your seat.” He promised before heading off to the dining room where you assumed the others were gathering. “They seem to hold you in high regard.” Sebastian said and you nodded. “Mmm, we’ve been through a lot.” You shrugged. “I hold them just as highly.” “They’re very powerful.” Sebastian observed. “They’re the seven demon lords, they’ve worked hard to earn the titles.” You answered. “And you tamed them all.” He said. “I wouldn’t say that I tamed them, they aren’t animals even if they are a little feral sometimes.” You giggled “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

You knocked and waited for Lucifer to call you in before opening the door “you wanted to see me mighty first born.” You teased. “Watch the attitude.” He warned with a small smirk on his face “I need you to show the newcomers around, Diavolo informed me that the younger one Ciel will be enrolling in RAD so he’ll need to know a rough layout of Devildom and the other may need a refresher.” “Oh sure no problem.” You nodded “I’m sure it would be easier for me to show them around than anyone else.” “Thank you (Y/N).” He smiled and you nodded. “Be careful around them though, I don’t trust them.” Lucifer informed him. “Yes sir.” You saluted him before turning on your heels and walking out the office. “One more thing!” Lucifer called before you could leave, he gestured for you to come over to him “call me if anything happens.”

You sat between Beel and Mammon as you promised that you would talking happily with the brothers as Sebastian served Ciel, Sebastian came over after a moment and placed a plate in front of you “I thought that you might appreciate some food from home.” Sebastian said, you looked at the food on the plate, eyes lighting up as you looked at what could only be described as the best breakfast you had ever seen. “Wow really!?” You asked “are you sure? Didn't you cook this for Ciel?” The mentioned master waved his hand in dismissal. “He can’t eat everything that I’ve cooked, he always used to share with the staff of the house back home.” Sebastian explained. “Staff?” You asked as you looked over at Ciel as you reached out for the food, however Mammon slapped your hand away from it. “We don’t know if that’s safe… Beel test it.” Mammon ordered. “Don’t be rude Mammon.” You glared at him before looking at Beel. “You wanna taste it now don’t you?”

“Mhm.” He nodded, you sighed before taking a forkful of food and feeding it to him. “Good?” You asked. “Amazing.” Beel answered. “Everyone satisfied that I’m not going to die?” You asked. “Yes.” An answer from Asmo, Mammon and Belphie. “Mildly.” Came from Lucifer and Satan. You got nothing from Levi who was absorbed in whatever game he was playing on his handheld console. “Good now will you all stop being so hostile!?” You asked. “No.” They all answered. “I’m sorry.” You apologised. “No need to apologise my lady.” Sebastian smiled as he walked back over to stand with Ciel. “Sorry Ciel, I was asking earlier, you had staff when you were human?” You asked. “I owned an estate.” He answered with a small smile on his face as he thought back on it. “The young Master was soul air to the Phantomhive Estate.” Sebastian explained. “Wait like the toy company?” You asked. “You know it?” Ciel asked, he seemed interested in what you had to say now. “It’s more of a corporation now, since the family that ran it died, the company was sold or something.” You explained. “I don't know a lot about it.” “Mm.” Ciel hummed in acknowledgement

The rest of breakfast was uneventful and you all headed off to get ready for their day, Lucifer called a meeting with his brothers so you took the time to grab Ciel and Sebastian to show them around Devildom without the brothers all watching your every move. The first place that you took them was Purgatory Hall. “This is Purgatory Hall, this is where the angels and the other humans live.” You explained as you opened the door. “(Y/N) I wasn’t aware that you would be stopping by today.” You smiled at the sound of Simeons voice. “Simeon! I wasn’t supposed to be stopping by today, I’m just showing some newcomers around.” You explained. “Are the others here?” “Mm, Luke is in the kitchen, I have not seen Solomon this morning so I assume that he is still in his room.” Simeon answered. “He’s an angel?” Ciel asked as he looked at Simeon “He’s different then the one that we met before.” “You’ve met other angels?” You asked. “They went by Angela or Ash.” Sebastian explained. “The fallen twins.” Simeon added “they are now used as a warning to the younger angels, there are rules that must be followed there was a reason no one came to their aid when you chose to end them.” “Simeon! Where did you go!?” You glanced behind him and saw Luke making his way down the hall, Simeon put his arm out to stop him from getting too close to Sebastian, you looked at the demon who seemed to be smirking at the smaller angel. “This is Ciel and Sebastian, Ciel will be joining us at RAD so I wanted to introduce him to some of the people that would be there.” You explained. “And you Sebastian?” Simeon asked. “I will do whatever my master asks of me.” Sebastian answered and you looked at him. “Master?” You asked. “I am the head butler of the Phantomhive Estate.” Sebastian answered and your eyes widened in wonder. “You know what now that I look at you that isn’t so surprising.” You mumbled. “Now what is all the tension down here!?” You turned to see Solomon down the hall and smiled waving. “Solomon!” You called. “You!?” Your head whipped back to Ciel as he looked at Solomon. “You know each other?” You asked. “Funny I thought you were dead, I guess technically you are.” Solomon smirked as he walked over, stopping next to you where he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “We met back when he was human.” “You said you were human.” Ciel muttered “I didn’t trust that you were telling the truth.” “I'm a human little Phantomhive, I’m just older than you thought.” Solomon smirked and you looked at him, “You don’t look older.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Curious.” Solomon smirked as he held eye contact. “Well we need to go before the brother finds me here.” You said, sensing that there were many situations that needed defusing you decided that it was time to move on, you ushered your two new residents out of the house, “Where are you headed next?” Solomon asked. “Nice try not telling you.” You stuck your tongue out before disappearing out of the door. “I don’t trust him.” Simeon finally said and Solomon looked at him and shrugged. “Only time will tell how dangerous they are.” Solomon shrugged before disappearing back into his room.

The rest of the tour went well, you managed to dodge the brothers and get the tour finished before they caught up, however you had just got back when you realised that leaving them alone for the day may not have been the best option especially when you saw the state of the house. “What the hell happened?” You frowned. “I know he was here!” You heard a voice that you didn’t recognise, you frowned. “Oh.” Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose and Ciel gave an exaggerated sigh. “You know that voice?” You asked. “Unfortunately.” Sebastian nodded.

You walked towards the dining room where it sounded like the commotion was coming from, you could see Mammon and Beel standing on either side of the room, with a woman in between them she was dressed in red and holding a chainsaw. Both Mammon and Beel charged at the woman despite Lucifer’s warning and collided with each other when she dodged. “Grelle, what are you doing?” The woman froze where she was standing before turning to Sebastian. “Bassy!” She cheered before her eyes came to rest on you. “Who’s this hussy!?” She appeared in front of you in seconds, everyone tensed as the woman lifted chainsaw above your head, as she brought it back down there was a clash but it wasn’t with you, instead Beel’s hand held the chainsaw above your head, his hand tightening as he threw the woman across the room before turning to you. “Are you okay!?” Beel asked. “Me? I’m fine, what about you?” You asked as you pulled his hand towards you “your bleeding.” “It’s nothing I’m fine, see I’m already healing.” He said, you looked at his hand and saw that the wound was in fact healing, you caught Sebastian’s eyes widening, he got a glimpse of Beel’s healing wound. You glanced at the others, all of them in their demon form, the room becoming suffocating, however before anyone could make a move, Cerberus stepped out of the hole in the wall that was created when Grelle was thrown. “Hey, someone tell this creature to let me go!” Grelle ordered, Sebastian's eyes shifted to the dog, one that had been uncontrollable the last time that he was in Devildom. “(Y/N) what will you have me do with this intruder?” Lucifer asked. “Sebastian, you know her?” You asked, Sebastian noticed that the goofy behaviour he had come to expect from the brothers was gone. Each of them looked like they were ready to kill the woman in front of them if it meant that you were safe. “She’s a reaper.” Sebastian answered. “You can put her down now.” You said, Lucifer gave a wave and Cerberus dropped the reaper in his jaws and walked over sniffing you for a second before deciding that he was happy with your health and going back to his master. “So do you need something?” You asked as you turned to the reaper. “Bassy disappeared, I was just looking for him.” Grelle answered. “Here he is.” You said stepping away from the demon, who seemed to be glaring at you, Beel didn’t like that, so he grabbed you and pulled you behind him. “Hmm, but it seems that there are other demons worth my attention here!” Grelle smiled as she turned to look at Lucifer giving you a coy wave, you raised an eyebrow with a small smirk but before anything else could be said, someone hit Grelle in the head.

“Do you ever stop causing me trouble?” A new voice asked. “Who in Devildom is this now!?” Mammon asked, having now made his way to you as well, his hand clasping yours. “I’m sorry for my colleagues behaviour, I’m William T. Spears I run a division within the Reapers.” William explained.”I’ll be taking her with me now.” “Oh you know I can’t resist you William, until next time Bassy and I hope to see more of you Luci!” Grelle waved as she followed William but you were more focused on the almost identical grimace passed over the two mentioned demons faces, when calm finally settled Lucifer sighed. “Looks like there’s some work to be done.” Lucifer looked at the destroyed house. “Please leave it to me.” Sebastian smiled as he looked at you. “Can you fix all of this?” You asked. “I’ve seen him fix worse.” Ciel shrugged “leave it to him, I’m retiring to my room.” “If you're sure.” You said. “What kind of a butler would I be if I couldn’t do this simple task for my master?” Sebastian asked. “Hey who ya callin’ master!?” Mammon asked, tightening his hold on your hand. “He’s talking about Ciel, will you get out of here and let him work, if he’s going to fix this place the least you can do is stop being a nuisance.” You ordered ushering the 7 demon lords out of the room, you a human had the power to make 7 of the most powerful demons bend to you, you were an interesting human and you might even have a soul as enticing as Ciels.

The question was: was it worth the enemies he would gain?

Request Here!!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓬 [Teaser]

You're supposed to keep him in check and integrate him into earth's society while he recovers from the aftereffects of catching a viral infection on his planet. All that, while you get to earn a pretty good monthly compensation for your efforts from the government of his and your planet.

Or more simplified: You're a paid babysitter for a 7' tall alien who's caught a virus that makes him act purely on instincts, rather than logic. Oh yeah- and he tried to eat your neighbor's pet bird. Yeah...

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Yes I'm writing that story..., mentions of doctors visits (needles, injections, medical terms, blood), mild Angst, so much chaos, he almost eats a bird once oops, mild Angst, strangers to lovers, more TBA

Length: unclear

A/N: THERE IS NO TAGLIST. THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS. THERE REALLY ISNT. DO NOT ASK.

Out Now!

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

"Jungkook…" You say, at a stand-off with the big cat-like alien across from you who stares you down with his stupidly cute big round eyes as if he's not doing anything wrong. "Where is pudgy?" You ask, and at that he fully turns around, squirming bird in his hand. "Jungkook, no, no no no-!" You dramatically call out, hands reaching for him- when he looks at the bird, then at you. "Give him to me, yeah?" you try, and he seems completely taken aback for a moment, and almost- shy?

Unbeknownst to you, he thinks you want the bird for something entirely different. In his mind, you're not asking for the bird itself- you're asking for him to offer it for you.

You want him to... court you?

He seems to deeply think for a good moment as he watches the bird breathe heavily, it's life probably flashing before it's very eyes before Jungkook brightly grins, sharp canine teeth making his happy grin look more dangerous than it probably is.

You don't know why he's suddenly so chipper, tail held high and eyes sparkling.

Suddenly, he holds the bird out to you like he's offering it rather than returning it- and you carefully take the poor thing from his rough hold, accepting it. It's something that makes the tip of his tail snap upwards in excitement, eyes scanning you for every reaction as you walk back.

"I'll be... right back.." You carefully tell Jungkook, who shrugs. "Do not do anything while I'm gone." You warn, before you dash out the front door to return the pet yet again, violently knocking on your neighbor's door.

"What?!" Seokjin yells almost, when you hold out his bird to him. "Pudgy!"

"Yeah, fuck your bird Jin!" You yell at the young man. "Jungkook almost fucking ate him, keep the thing in his cage for god's sake! Do you know how much trouble I would've been in if he actually ate him? I'm not ensured for accidental pet-ingestion!" You complain, making the man laugh a little.

"I'll keep the windows closed from now on." He reassures you, and you nod, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way back downstairs into your apartment-

where a not so happy Jungkook waits, arms crossed and tail whipping angrily from side to side behind him, knocking down some papers on the kitchen table. He's clearly unhappy, growling a little with every breath, eyes sharp and glaring at you dangerously.

"What happened?" You wonder, and Jungkook himself wants to just yell at you.

You're so stupid, he thinks to himself. Why would you insult him like that? He caught that bird, and you wanted it- so he offered it, thinking you finally understood his intentions at this point- but no. Instead you insult him by giving HIS offering to that stupid human man upstairs, as if to mock him!

Do you want something more impressive? Maybe a tiny bird isn't enough to win you over. But on earth, there's not much prey to hunt- and considering he's a little bound to the interior of your apartment, he doesn't have any other options, really. And even if he was to catch something better- like the deer he'd almost caught if it wasn't for you scolding him for it- you still don't seem to like that at all. He doesn't know what else he could do to impress you.

What the hell do human woman want?!

Maybe he just really chose to court the most stupid and ungrateful human he could find- but he'll make sure you understand his intentions soon enough, and he'll teach you proper manners as well, once he's better. Right now, he's still unable to really do much in his state- but once he recovers a little more, he'll make sure.

He'll make sure you know exactly what he wants from you.

[romana-after-dark]

Pushing Buttons

Darkish!Nathan Bateman x fem!reader

Masterlist : Taglist

Summary: You purposefully piss Nathan off just to get used and degraded.

Warnings and Content: Hate fucking, everything is consenual but it not really what a good dom/sub dynamic should look like hence it being in the dark blog. Rough sex, spitting, lots of talk of sweat and spit. Foot fetish, Nathan is face stomping, which means he's got his foot on readers face, and the heel goes in her mouth at one point. I refuse to write literal non con on here and feel embarrassed for a foot fetish okay. LOTS OF DEGRADING TALK, like, seriously degrading. Only a little bit of aftercare and it's not an established part of their dynamic. Mentions of ass eating. Nathan and reader just being gross.

A/N: This is not the Dark!nathan I was talking about ealier but this was kinda a warm up to get a little more of a hold of his character. I may have to watch the movie again to get a feel for his mannerism. Or maybe I should write him drunk. Anyway. This came about after a convo with @hon3yboy and she encouraged me to write this after sharing hony thots about foot on face lol. Gonna take a quick sec and promo her, everyone should check out her Werewolf!Marc series

800 Words

*******************

You’d done it on purpose, honestly. You’d pissed Nathan off intentionally after he’d been ignoring you all day. 

He was supposed to spend the day with you, take you hiking and fuck you in some steamy spring, but instead he had spent all day in his office coding. You tried to hang out in the office with him, to get him to remember his promise but instead you just got mad when you took a peek at his coding. You didn’t understand much about coding, but you looked at his notes and figured it out.

“You’re programming her to blow you?!?!?!”

This erupted in a big fight, Nathan insisting he wasn’t programming his AI to blow him, but to suck dick in general. You didn’t believe him, or maybe you did but you were too mad to think clearly, and ripped his computer off his desk and threw it on the floor.

That’s how you ended up here, tossed on the couch like a rag doll and molded into every position Nathan wants as he hate fucked you. At the moment, he had you on your knees and braced up against the arm rest as he knelt. With his fingers in your mouth, you gagged up spit that he smeared all over your face, rubbing your eye make up on your skin.

“Open.” Nathan order, and you vaguely open your eyes and mouth to accept the glob of spit that he didn’t even try to aim on your face.

“Dirty fucking whore, always trying to piss me off just so she can get abused.” Without a doubt, that’s what you did, but you fucking loved it. Sure, this wasn’t the perfect relationship, but it wasn’t really much of a relationship. You weren’t his girlfriend. You were just here. And although it was never meant to last long, you enjoyed the chaos.

Nathan pulled out, and before you could think much on it, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back before shoving your face into the couch and adjusting his own position. Standing on the couch cushion now, Nathan steadies himself by twisting one of your arms behind your back and putting the other one on the backrest for stability.

His right foot was planted directly on your face.

Nathan Bateman was barefoot most of the time. Living in a home with heated floors, he liked to “Let them bad boys breathe” It was his same justification for sleeping naked. 

Planting his foot on your face was a new level of degradation as he fucked you, his words bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Pathetic, dirty bitch, letting me step on your face, letting me shove your face in my ass.” Nathan panted over you. He was fit, but the activities you both engaged in always made him breathless, his sweat dripping down from his hairless head and onto your face. You tasted the salt, moaning as your cunt clenched around his massive length. 

Nathan laughed a cruel, mocking laugh. “That turns you on? You’re fucking disgusting, you’re so pathetic, I should just- ohhhhfuckohfuck- I should just cum inside and got let you get off, leave you rutting against the couch like a bitch in heat.” Nathan filled you up over and over again, each thrust inward making his sweaty foot shove you into the cushion. “You're desperate enough, bet I could make you hum anything just to get off. God, sofuckingtight! Shit!” His grunts grow louder, his hips more frantic and you know he’s close, and so are you.

“Bet you’re the kind of girl I could fuck right up against a dumpster, just shove your face against the filth so I don’t have to look at your fucking face-”

That did it. “NATHAN!” You scream as you cum all around him, mouth wide open so his sweaty foot slide down enough you can taste him, but you don’t care. Nothing mattered when Nathan was inside you.

Nathan was cumming, filling you up as he called you his “disgusting little cum dumpster” and spitting on you one last time. With all the moisture on your face, his foot slipped off you and Nathan fell forward, his cock brutally spearing you as you both collapsed onto the couch.

“Fucking bitch.” Nathan smacked your ass as he walked butt naked, only to stop, pause, then turn around. Returning to your fucked out body, Nathan took his discarded shirt and wiped your face off before pulling a throw blanket over you. He leaned down, pinching your face in his fingers and speaking firmly. “Sleep”

Nathan pulled on his basketball shorts, and as your eyes drifted off into dreamland, so thoroughly exhausted, blissed out and satisfied, the sounds of Nathan taking the rest of his rage out on the punching back lulled you to sleep.

*******************

I know it's not my strongest work but I just wanted to test out some Nathan Bateman

Also, im updating my tag list so even if you commented to be on my tag list, please comment again. Before, i just had TLOU and Moon Knight, but I've been expanding so comment Oscar or Pedro characters please!

IDK whose all interested bc Nathan Bateman and its like foot fetish based lmfao so just tagging @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction and @alwaysmicado who support my insanity.

[diagonal-queen]

The Moon and the Sea

♡ pairing: Paul Verlaine x Arthur Rimbaud

♡ synopsis: After a hard day, Verlaine finds solace in the arms of his partner.

♡ wc: 1.5k

♡ cw: Stormbringer spoilers(?), Rimlaine are extremely sad and gay

note: "i want to write a oneshot about some really beautiful but tragic gay men but i cant think of anything" i said to @small-chaos. they replied "Everybody talks about the moon and the sun but nobody admires the beauty in the relationship between the moon and the sea" and then this brainchild was born. thanks bestie <3 i would also like to shoutout @gettinshiggywithit for helping me complete this when i ran out of brain power, thank you lovely 😚😚 apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x

The early winds of autumn were warm and gentle, relieving busy Parisians of the sticky summer humidity as the changing season set itself in motion. The sounds of evening began to die down, leaving only the rustling of brown and orange leaves in its wake. Yet, one man hadn't been privy to this particular noise, as all his windows had been closed as soon as he'd first entered the apartment the week prior. All he could hear was the crackling of fire and his own chattering teeth.

Rimbaud found himself growing colder by the minute. That night, he sat shivering on a sofa right before the fireplace, with a thick fluffy blanket wrapped around him. Despite the fact that he was also clad in several layers, a thick grey coat, a large scarf, mittens and earmuffs, he still felt like he might succumb to hypothermia any second.

He wanted nothing more than to leap into the fire itself, but he sat as still as he could and waited. Verlaine was supposed to be back soon, and when he knew that he was alright he would be able to go to their shared room and sleep (somewhat) soundly. That was what he'd planned, at least.

After hearing the sound of the door unlocking, Rimbaud bowed his head as Verlaine entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. He momentarily glanced at his partner, before doing a double take in shock.

Verlaine looked...dishevelled. He wasn't so dishevelled that a stranger may take notice and ask him about it, but for Verlaine, even a loose strand of hair was unusual. Rimbaud immediately knew something terrible must've happened.

"Paul, you...!" Rimbaud sat up, eyeing Verlaine who didn't seem to want to return his gaze. He silently walked, or rather stumbled, over towards the couch where his partner was sitting.

Rimbaud had never seen Verlaine act in such a way. Sure, he could come off as aloof from time to time, but today he didn't seem bothered to hide the fatigue he was feeling. Even his complexion seemed paler.

Verlaine then kneeled on the sofa, before his whole upper body flopped on top of Rimbaud, who let out a soft grunt at the impact. He tried to adjust his posture, but now that Verlaine was slumped on top of him he found it difficult to move.

"Are you alright?!"

"I'm..." Verlaine pushed his hat off his head, letting it fall to the ground by Rimbaud's shoes. "...I'm tired."

His umber eyes seemed unfocused, staring somewhere Rimbaud couldn't see.

"What happened to you, Paul?" The raven-haired couldn't help but feel concern bubbling inside him, and the question came off with more urgency than he'd intended it to. Not that it mattered- Verlaine never seemed to care about things like that.

Verlaine didn't answer for a moment, just letting out a breath that he seemed to have been holding in for a while. His face contorted into a slight grimace.

"...Paul?"

"...I don't want to talk about it now."

In spite of his worry, Rimbaud didn't press him further.

The room was bathed in a golden hue from the fire before the couch they were draped upon. It subconsciously gave a feeling of comfort to Rimbaud, who suddenly noticed how tranquil the atmosphere was despite the fact that he was trapped beneath Verlaine's roughed-up form. He realised that he wasn't shivering so violently now. He was still cold, of course, but Verlaine acted as a soothing source of warmth.

Rimbaud's gloomy eyes gazed down at Verlaine, whose eyes had closed by now. There was no blood on his person, of course, but his slightly dishevelled blonde hair and wrinkled clothing weren't any less cause for concern. For something or someone to have even a slight effect on a creature as powerful as Verlaine...

Rimbaud steadily moved his gloved hand and, after a moment of contemplation, placed it atop the back of Verlaine's head as gently as he could muster. Verlaine didn't react. Rimbaud let out a deep exhale, and cautiously ran a hand through his soft golden locks.

The small room the two were temporarily staying in, an apartment in an old Haussmann-style building located on the outskirts of Paris, was silent. They had become accustomed to moving around as frequently as their job required, and had never bothered to modify any of their living spaces to feel more homely. Rimbaud only cared about where Verlaine was, and Verlaine didn't see much merit in interior design. Yet, something about this place felt inherently intimate, or so Rimbaud thought.

"...Rimbaud?" Verlaine suddenly mumbled. Rimbaud cast him a glance, his face half obscured by blueish shadows while the other half glowed in the yellow light.

"Hm?"

"...I heard something in passing a few days ago," he began, almost as if he were unsure of his own words. "It was about love."

"Love?" Rimbaud creased his eyebrows, perplexed. If one were to ask him anything that Verlaine may bring up in conversation, love wouldn't have been in his first thousand guesses.

"Yes, love...I heard someone compare the concept of soulmates to the sun and the moon," Verlaine continued with a faint voice. "I don't quite understand it."

"Well..." Rimbaud's tone was slightly shaky. "You know the phrase 'opposites attract', don't you?"

Verlaine let out a small noise but Rimbaud couldn't tell whether it was affirmative or negative. Regardless, he continued.

"It means that two people who are different from each other are likely to have a better relationship. The 'sun' person would usually be more outgoing and cheery, while the 'moon' person is more introspective and quiet..." He bit his thin lip and then added, "Not unlike you, Paul."

Verlaine shifted slightly, his hand perching itself on top of Rimbaud's chest.

"Not unlike me...?"

"That's not to say that introspection and quietness are bad things," Rimbaud quickly spoke. "I just mean that...they're traits that suit you well. The 'moon' caricature as a whole suits you well, in fact."

"The moon..." Verlaine muttered to himself. "So far away from the rest of mankind...perhaps I am like the moon."

Rimbaud wanted to comfort Verlaine, to reassure him that he wasn't far away from anybody, especially not him, but the words wouldn't form on his tongue. He felt as if he should have been better at this by now; after all, it was far from the first time they'd had this type of conversation.

"If I am the moon then you're the sea." Verlaine suddenly announced, snapping Rimbaud out of his train of thought.

"The sea?" Rimbaud repeated, quietly. "...I don't understand."

"The sea is complex, full of mystery. You can never predict the force of the ocean's waves as they crash on the sand," Verlaine breathed, as if he were reading a poem. "You are deep and dark, Rimbaud. You're full of undiscovered secrets...and..."

He lifted his head up, lidded brown eyes staring straight into Rimbaud's. "We might be opposites, but I don't think you're a sun."

Rimbaud's breath hitched in surprise. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Verlaine's, whose tired gaze still burned right through him.

"Every day I survey you from afar and it feels almost like you glow when I look at you. How strange is that?"

The black-haired man couldn't tell whether or not Verlaine's question was rhetorical or not. Even if it wasn't, he probably wouldn't have been able to come up with a coherent answer. He was frozen in surprise, unable to break the tense silence between them.

Verlaine's hand moved from Rimbaud's chest to his cheek, gently cupping it while his thumb began to rub circles over his soft, pale skin. The blonde man seemed to be in some kind of fatigued haze.

"The saddest thing is how unattainable you are. But I know that if I were ever to fall..." Verlaine leaned forward, his breath tickling Rimbaud's face. "You would be there to catch me, wouldn't you?"

Then, without giving him the chance to answer, Verlaine brought his lips to Rimbaud's. His grip on Rimbaud's cheek tightened ever so slightly as he deepened the kiss, almost smiling when Rimbaud placed his hands on his back and squeezed.

"Paul-" Rimbaud tried to start when he pulled away, wanting to ask if they should be doing this or if it was really alright, but Verlaine just placed a finger to his lips.

"Shh..." the corner of Verlaine's lip turned up. Rimbaud's cheeks flushed red, and he quickly dove back into the kiss.

Aside from pulling apart for air every few seconds, the pair remained in their gentle embrace until Verlaine eventually pulled away, leaving Rimbaud breathless, and laid his head down on his chest.

"I'm tired, Arthur..." he said, before closing his eyes. Verlaine must've been exhausted- he never called Rimbaud by his first name. It made his heart skip a beat; something he hoped that Verlaine didn't notice.

With the state he was in, Verlaine probably wouldn't remember this in the morning. Rimbaud decided that unless he bought it up first, he wouldn't say a thing about it, no matter how much he wanted to.

And thus, the pair never spoke of that night again. 

taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl

[1989worshipper]

ok i’m a fanfic reader not writer but there’s smth about this idea that won’t leave my mind. and asking chatgpt to write me fanfic did not work as i wanted. so i wrote a bit as an example for it. n then wrote more. might as well share?

(could be romantic but not intended to be. but ur interpretation is urs!)

As the figure of her body flickered, Klaus’ heart stopped pumping, ears stopped hearing. You had always been there, a piercing light through the darkness of his world, accompanying him as he bent under the never ending demands of their Father. You cried over him as he convulsed through an overdose the night the screeching of the dead became too much. You pet his hair and watched over his body until he returned to the land of the living. He turned pages of books for hours for you as you cuddled with him, longing for the education your parents had always wanted for you. You held him when no one else did, when the world abandoned Number Four, when his Father’s words rung in his head over and over. “Useless. A waste of powers. Almost as bad as Viktor.” After drugs, only your voice drowned them out. Maybe better, but he would never admit it.

Your figure flickered once more in synchrony with the lights, and wind seemed to pick up inside the Academy. “Klaus? Is this how it’s supposed to go?” your panicked voice muffled, barely making it through the chaos. Klaus couldn’t take his eyes off you, scared he’d blink and it’d be like you were never there at all. The wind picked up, a tornado forming around you, building a barrier between him and you. You reached out to him, and his fingers barely brushed yours when suddenly, it happened. The lights stopped flickering, the walls stopped shaking. The world settled down to the peaceful quiet of the night. And you were gone.

“3:02am” the clock faced him. “No. No.” he said to no one. It was a statement. A fact. As he fell to his knees, it played in his mind. His breaths quickened, chest squeezing as the air refused to enter his lungs. He clutched his face in his hands, pulling his hair. The only noise his rough gasps. “No.” he repeated. If she was gone, he would be too. He’d die and return to that horrid Afterlife with the stupid girl on the stupid bicycle and the stupid scenes of other people’s “Paradise” and he’d search for you until he awoke. And he’d do it again and again, until he found you. And he’d bring you back. He would. He had to. It was you or nothing.

“Klaus?” he imagined you calling out. “Klaus.” you cried. Suddenly, something brushed against his bare shoulder. A soft touch, gentle. Familiar. Instantly, he turned to find its source. And there you stood, more beautiful than ever despite the matching tears streaming down your face. He paused for a second, taking you in, before jumping in your arms, wrapping his legs around your waist, squeezing as tight as he could. And he could feel your hands around him. Your real hands, your real arms, your real hair against his face, your real body underneath his. Your chest moving up and down. Your heart beating against his, pumping blood. Alive.

You squeeze back, spinning around the room, feeling the weight in your arms and your heart hammering in your chest. You land on the couch, Klaus still on top of you. “It worked. It really worked. I’m like you, I’m alive” you said to the air, still in shock. “Yes you are baby! You smell so good, even after fifteen years in the grave. Is it wrong if I have a bit of a boner right now?” You laugh through your tears, and respond “Never did I think i’d be so grateful to be holding your ass.” you reply, playfully squeezing when he responds with, “Everyone is, you’re not special.”

As he pulls back, you push him backwards into the couch and land on top of him, lying on his chest. You both lay there for hours, stuck in a spell and waiting for the other shoe to drop, knowing it never will not overriding the anxiety in your bones. “Thank you,” you whisper again and again as he pets your hair. You fall asleep to the steady rhythm of each other’s heart. 

my appreciation for fic writers is always high, but even more so on making the characters sound authentic. i feel like this does not sound like klaus, but didn’t know what else to do. dialogue is hard :(