#hyper beans loves you all

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Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire. 

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 

You think you dislike the feeling. 

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 

“I suppose so.” 

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 

You simply shake your own. 

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 

Ah. It all makes sense now. 

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 

“Good.” 

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right. 

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 

If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 

Why did he know your name? 

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 

“And what am I meant to do?” 

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 

At least that is what you hope. 

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–” 

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 

That is the only logical solution, at least. 

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 

You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 

The future king would be a fearsome thing. 

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…” 

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 

Oh heavens, oh gods. 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 

“What…?” 

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 

“Taehyung.” 

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 

He will not have you running away. 

Not now. 

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 

He is. 

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 

“Please.” 

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 

So sensitive. So ready for him. 

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 

He is falling apart before you, because of you. 

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?” 

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire. 

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[kayjaywrites]

Ink & Beans (Azriel x Reader Oneshot)

D20 Dice Roll Prompt: 11. “You’re definitely the only person I would do this for.” Fluff/Humor/SFW

Summary: You ask Azriel to spy on someone for gossip and he does it.

Word Count: ~2,100

Content Warning: None really, Az gets a little horned up but it's not explicit.

Authors Notes: I have a prompt list going for when I have writer's block. I’m gonna start rolling a d20 dice and do the prompt it lands on, replacing the finished prompt with a new one. I’d love to add requests and ideas from you guys to the list!

XxXx

Azriel arrived at your favorite coffee shop three hours before you. Ink & Beans was a small business within The Rainbow, founded by a family of Fae known for their writing prowess. The youngest daughter of the family, Raychelle, did not inherit the family’s writing talent, but loved creative writing all the same. Instead of stewing on her back to back publication rejections, she threw herself into creating a safe creative space for herself, and anyone else like her. The result was a questionably named cafe with workshops, peer editors, late hours, and caffeine. It was a fool proof business model really. Even before Azriel got close to you, he enjoyed visiting the cafe.

Everything about the place oozed comfort. The lights, warm and dim, were soothing and complimented the rustic cottage theme well. The booths were cozy, yet supportive, and although Azriel had been nursing his tea for 2 and half hours he did not feel sore for sitting so long.

Now, it wasn’t unusual for him to loiter around alone. People watching and eavesdropping were a huge part of his job after all. However if anyone had asked him yesterday if he’d ever spy within Ink & Bean he would have said no. There was never a reason to investigate the cafe, he was on a first name basis with the owner and most of the regulars.

Yet, here he was, deploying his shadows and listening in to customer and staff conversations. All because he was a sucker.

He loved listening to you talk. It didn’t matter what you were hyper focusing on, he couldn’t get enough of your passion. So when you dove into an elaborate breakdown of the relationships among those that frequent Ink & Beans he was all too happy to listen. He didn’t like drama that involved him, but hearing other people’s drama was one of his favorite things about being a spymaster. He never got mad at unintentional gossip while on missions, it was often a highlight for him.

So yeah, he was a little invested in your theory that one of the regulars, a quiet male named Fin, was flirting with Raychelle, and that Raychelle was flirting back. He’d been going there with you for almost a decade now, and he’d never seen Raychelle show interest in anyone. If anything he’d witnessed her curb potential suitors with efficient politeness.

And you were talking with such conviction, eyes fiery and excited when he shared your curiosity. You swept him up in that magnitude of yours, the same pull that made you a best selling romance author he supposed. Your enthusiasm became his, and suddenly he was sharing his own theories.

He’d noticed Fin blushing at Raychelle on occasion when she took his order, but never saw him flustered when another employee was at the register. You’d noticed that too, and somehow by the end of the gossip session he had agreed to working on his day off. 

Like a sucker.

Just like you said, Fin came by on his lunch break and spent it chatting with Raychelle in between rushes. You were willing to bet money that if he listened in on the conversation, he would learn the true nature of their relationship, and before he knew what he was doing he was agreeing to stake out the place for three hours for you.

Only for you to be so wrong. He was a regular enough that he figured his presence wouldn’t be anything of note. Apparently his presence without you was fuel for the gossip train.

Jennifer, a young local artist who came in on her daily coffee run for her office had made an offhand comment to the new girl on the register, Heather, “It was rare to see Azriel here without Ms. Reader.” 

Two of the regular weekday afternoon dishwashers in the back were wondering if you were standing Azriel up, and if they thought they had a chance with you. This update from the shadows had left him fuming, because no, they did not have a chance with you if he had anything to say about it.

A good looking female came in, evidentantly a first time customer as she asked Raychelle what she would recommend, and then subtly but not subtle enough gestured to Azriel and asked if he was single. In which Raychelle said that he wasn’t.

Which wasn’t true, and he was sure Raychelle knew he was unattached.

Then Fin finally showed up for his lunch break, and Raychelle almost caught Azriel watching them as she followed Fin to a secluded booth on the opposite side of the cafe than him. They were just out of earshot so his shadows did the listening for him.

And boy oh boy. The gossip they overheard was juicy.

Raychelle and Fin spent the entire lunch hour talking about how obvious it was that you were in love with Azriel. Raychelle was furious at him for being so oblivious to “what was right in front of him”. Fin was starting to think that you were secretly dating Azriel already, because there was no way the spymaster of the Night Court didn’t notice your feelings. According to them, you looked at him like he’d hung the stars in the sky. You checked him out all the time. When he wasn’t around, you talked about how much you missed him, and were here more often while he was on missions.

Azriel’s head was spinning from the new intel by the time you sat yourself in the booth across from him. For nearly three hours the most popular topic of gossip within Ink & Beans was you.

“So did you learn anything interesting?” You dove right into it, foregoing a greeting as you leaned across the small table, studying him with eager excitement.

“Yes.” Azriel took in how oblivious you were, so focused on him you didn’t notice the way surrounding conversations quieted down around you. Was this how it always was when you guys met up here? If so, Azriel understood Raychelle’s annoyance. How had he not noticed?

You shifted in your seat, your hand drumming on the wooden tabletop in impatience. “And?”

“You know you are the only person I’d ever do something like this for, right?” Azriel said instead.

Perplexed, you cocked your head to the side. “Uh, I guess. So?”

“So: I don’t typically just take jobs without some sort of payment. Especially on my day off.” Azriel leaned back, crossing his arms casually over his chest as an amused smile found his lips.

“Are you trying to charge me, spymaster?” Your voice rose in pitch, incredulous.

He merely shrugged. “The intel was…valuable. Figured I should at least get something out of it.”

You laughed, the type of twinkling delight that had a similar joy rising in his own chest. “Alright, alright you’ve sold me, whatever you want, but I’ve got to know what you’ve learned this instant it’s killing me.”

Azriel could hear a pin drop in the room. He clocked movement behind the counter, the two male dishwashers had come upfront, likely curious, they did fancy you after all. Their presence had his easygoing smile falling as he fixed you with a serious stare.

Whatever he wanted, right? That was a deal he couldn’t pass up.

“I arrived at 10am. From 10am-12:02pm no one spoke about Raychelle and Fin. There is no evidence of anyone else suspecting Raychelle and Fin to fancy each other. You were correct in noting that Fin would come for his 1hr lunch break. From 12:02pm-1:49pm Fin and Raychelle talked in a booth away from the crowded part of the cafe, but not about their feelings for each other or their relationship.”

Your lips parted, confusion creasing your brow. “Well that doesn’t seem to pass as ‘valuable intel’ to me.” You snarked.

“Hmm,” He nodded, unable to keep the mischief out of his voice as he spoke, “the valuable intel is in who they were actually gossiping about.”

Your jaw dropped open, falling for his set up hook, line, and sinker, “Ohhhhh, and who were they gossiping about?”

Pausing for dramatic effect, he studied you long enough for you to visibly grow nervous. “You.” Azriel revealed.

Your nostrils flared, your breath hitching as you averted your gaze. It was rare for him to see you rendered speechless. “No guesses on what they were saying about you?” He inquired.

You barely managed to meet his gaze for a second before your eyes shifted to a spot on the wall beside his head. “I have a theory,” you confessed, bashful, “but would prefer to keep it to myself until you finish your report.”

Azriel hummed in response, enjoying the way your gaze would dart back to his face, like you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him. He knew that he looked at you in much the same way.

“Everyone here either thinks we're secretly dating, or going to be dating soon. Raychelle and Fin spent Fin’s lunch break commiserating on how frustrating it was to watch us. The people of Ink & Beans think you are in love with me.”

It was so quiet in the room he could hear your heartbeat pickup. He wouldn’t be surprised if it felt like it was in your throat instead of your chest, so Azriel continued his debrief to spare you having to find a response. “And I think they’re right, because they were right about the other person they were gossiping about too. I also was a popular topic of conversation these last three hours, they were right about what they thought about me too. I think you are in love with me–I hope you are in love with me, because I am in love with you.”

“Azriel,” His name was whispered like a prayer on an exhale, “maybe we should have this conversation in a more private location.” Your face was beat red, and you looked like you were about to pass out.

You were never one for making a scene in public. Honestly, this was all probably mortifying for you. Normally, it would be for him too, but he remembered the dishwashing males plotting ways to woo you.

“Of course,” Azriel stood, stretching his wings out as he reached for your hand and guided you to stand next to him, “but first I want my payment. Whatever I want, right? That’s what you said.”

You looked utterly lost, unable to look him in the eye for too long, but too confused to not search for his intentions in his facial expression. “Okay, sure, what would you like, I don’t have much with me right now so I don’t know why this has to happen this moment, but I’ll do my best–”

Azriel always found your nervous rambling cute. He knew you’d be upset with him if he let you go on for much longer in front of everyone at Ink & Beans. “I’m sure you can provide me with a kiss, unless you have a specific lipstick in mind for our first kiss?”

You gaped at him, and he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, his scars rough against your soft skin. Gently, he closed your mouth, leaning in slowly just in case you wanted to pull away. But you didn’t, his lips touched yours, and you melted into him. Your smaller, curvier body pressed tight against his front as the kiss deepened and found rhythm.

Too soon, reality seemed to find the both of you again, and Azriel was aware that he was starting to get aroused very publically in your favorite coffee shop. One look at you, and it seemed you were no better off than him, the gleam in your eyes sending thrills down his spine. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” Azriel bent down to whisper in your ear, and you shivered, “I think I do want to continue this conversation in a more private location.”

You turned your face, lips brushing against his pulse point in his neck as you spoke. “Me too.”

XxXx

Upon returning to Ink & Beans after the mating frenzy subsided, you and Azriel were greeted by tarps, workers, and piles of building supplies outside of the storefront. Raychelle had been signing something on a clipboard when she caught sight of you, and hurried to embrace you, clipboard forgotten on the ground where she dropped it.

She’d used the winnings from a store wide bet to expand the shop. She and Fin had split the winnings, the only two fae to predict your and Azriel’s mating bond.

XxXx

My inbox is open, drop requests to be added to my prompt list! My other work can be found here!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Melting Pot IV

McFoord x Child!Reader

Ruesha Littlejohn x Child!Reader

woso-dreamzzz Kids x Child!Reader (Kiddo)

Summary: Sports day with a bunch of hyper competitive people

"Ouch!"

Caitlin sighs, massaging her temples as she comes down the stairs.

It had already been a loaded morning, crammed full of everything and nothing at the same time.

"Stop it!"

She'd only been upstairs for a moment, separating Gremlin's kitten from your own.

They were two vastly different cats.

Gremlin's Spicy was angry, a walking ball of fuzz that leapt first and asked questions later. He was liable to throwing up hairballs while making eye contact and bringing in dead rats from the railroad tracks.

Your Baby was the opposite, a demure little lady who groomed herself all the time and took naps on your blanket. She craved affection and wound herself around ankles whenever anyone even so much as looked at her.

Two vastly different cats like their vastly different owners.

"Hey!" Katie snaps as Caitlin turns the corner," Gremlin, knock it off! Leave your sister alone!"

A very clear bite mark is on your wrist as you sob, curled up on Katie's lap as she struggles to get your sister's shoes on her feet.

"I've got her," Caitlin says, nudging her girlfriend away," Go and put Kiddo in the car."

Usually, a Saturday morning meant a chill day.

Sleeping until noon and having some brunch. Most of the time pancakes, sometimes waffles if Katie could be bothered to get out the waffle maker.

But today was Sports Day at the school so you were all up bright and early to make it there in time.

Caitlin already knew how this was going to go though.

Gremlin would get hyper competitive and most likely push someone over in her haste to win and you would linger at the back of your pack of peers with no hint of athletic ability in you.

Your little sister was much younger than you so she was separated with the other nursery age girls while you were included in your class.

"That wasn't very nice," Caitlin says as she slips the leash straps over Gremlin's shoulders," You know your sister is sensitive. Why did you bite her?"

Gremlin shrugs. "Dunno."

"Well, I think you should apologise."

"Dragons not say sorry!"

"And dragons don't exist," Caitlin replies, hoisting Gremlin up onto her hip," Maybe you should think about that."

You've stopped crying by the time you're all in the car, a few fingers in your mouth and the other hand out for Katie to hold during the drive, Gremlin's ring of teeth marks displayed so obviously.

"Sorry," Your sister mumbles to you, kicking the seat in front of her.

"For?" Katie prompts.

"Bitin' you."

You mumble your thanks through your fingers just as Caitlin pulls up in front of the school.

She can see a few of the parents she knows well heading into the gates.

Life working at the fire station tended to bond people.

Leah is corralling Bean inside while Jordan (who used to work at the fire station but left after one too many near death scares) crosses the street with their Bug. Lia, their constantly exasperated admin person, is crossing the street with her Guppy as well, joining up with the two of them with a smile.

"Alright," Katie says, turning to look back at her two daughters," Remember what I said about today?"

"It doesn't matter if we don't win because you'll still love us the same," You recite through a mouthful of your fingers and Katie smiles.

"That's exactly right."

You hold Mammy's hand as you all cross the road.

Mammy holds Caitlin's hand. You hold Mammy's. Your little sister holds yours.

She raises your wrist up to her mouth and you tense but all she does is give you a little kiss on the bite mark.

"Sorry," She says again.

"It's okay."

Gremlin smiles at you and you smile back,

"Hey," Katie says, swinging your joined arms," Ma's over there."

It wasn't your week with Rue but she's still come to your sports day and the only hint of athletic ability you possess is put into running over to her.

"Ma!" You cry and she hoists you into her arms instantly.

"Look at you! Looking good, kiddo!" Rue says, bouncing you up and down as you lean into her, breathing in her familiar smell. "You ready for today?"

Your stomach suddenly starts swirling a little.

You know Katie's views on your sports day performance. You don't know Rue's.

"I won't be very good," You say softly, barely above a whisper.

"You don't have to be good," Rue says decisively," Listen, I've got permission from your Mammy that after this is over, we can go to that fancy bakery you like and get some cakes before I take you back to her. Would that be nice?"

"And we can get cupcakes?"

"As many cupcakes as you like!"

Like you thought, you don't do overwhelmingly well at sports day.

You lag behind in the races and in the big jumping. You do fairly well at throwing the beanbags into the hula hoops but that's about it.

Sports day finishes with the sporty girls winning like everyone thought and a big barbecue to celebrate.

Your little sister eats a lot, Caitlin gets you cotton candy and your mothers even end up being civil.

"Caitlin," You say as your eyes rove around the school field," Why are the mummies and big sisters stretching?"

"Huh?"

Caitlin has a piece of beef hanging out of her mouth.

You point.

Over on the far end by the fence, Alexia and Jenni are stretching their legs. Leah is a few feet away doing the same. Alessia is jumping up and down a few times, warming up her muscles.

Even Katie is doing the same, chatting away to one of Bear's mummies.

"Well that's for the parent race."

"Parent race?"

"Uh-huh." Caitlin takes a wet napkin to Gremlin's face. "So the mummies can all race each other to see who's the best."

"But why?"

"Because adults can be competitive too. They get bragging rights."

That sounds...

Well it doesn't exactly sound weird.

Mammy and Caitlin work at the fire station together and you know all the firefighters there are super competitive with each other.

You didn't know that other adults were competitive too.

"Be careful, Magda," You hear one of Princesse's mummies say," You're not as fit as you used to be."

"Please," Princesse's other mummy scoffs," I'm not letting anyone beat me."

"If you pull a muscle, you get no sympathy from me."

You turn back to Caitlin in alarm. "Is Mammy going to hurt herself?"

"No...Probably not...Hopefully not."

That doesn't fill you with much confidence as Katie takes her place on the starting line.

It's carnage the moment the start is called as adults shove each other and get their legs tangled and fall to the ground in heaps.

Katie goes crashing into the ground in a heap with Leah, Steph and Lucy. Alexia and Jenni collide with each other and Irene. Mapi somehow trips over herself.

Against all odds, it seems, Duckie's mummy Jessie comes first.

Squish's mummy Frida is second and Conejita's mummy Caro ends up in third.

"Get off!" Katie says, shoving the pile of people off of her as you, Caitlin and Gremlin approach.

You crouch next to her.

"It's okay, Mammy," You say," You didn't have to win. I still love you the same."

[the-universal-sun]

Can we get some lil Ford hcs? This is my second time asking very politely and as a fren for smthn ik :3

Yes of course I can do more regressed Ford! I love him so much! He’s just such a little guy, you know? He needs so much love, and by golly I’ll make sure he gets it!

( @yourfavoritecuntist)

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

-I mentioned this before, but when regressed, he’s down to around the range of 6-10, sometimes a little younger if he needs it

-He stubborn at times, especially if he’s working on a project, so he’ll refuse to accept that maybe he needs some Little Time. He’s short tempered and grouchy, and it’s not until he’s sobbing and on the verge of a melt down because the milk spilled a little on the counter that he admits that maybe he needs to regress for a little bit

-If Stan’s his caretaker, he’ll get Ford those math practice workbooks, which Ford can still do easily when regressed. He just likes the simplicity of it, plus he doesn’t like to do how’s advanced equations when he’s feeling little.

-Sometimes he’ll ask Stan to time him on a page to see how fast he can complete it. Stan doesn’t check his work because he knows Ford got the problems right, but he makes a sure of it, writing a “100” at the top of the page and putting a sticker on it. Ford’s always so happy when that happens

-If Fiddleford is his caretaker, he’ll write down pages of math problems himself, making sure to stay within the realm of what a child could feasibly solve, he’d hate to accidentally take Ford out of his regression by including advanced calculus (this has happened)

-Fidds does actually check over Ford’s work, of course he got them all right, and will give Ford a fancy jelly bean for getting them all right. It used to be a jelly bean per right answer, but Ford would get too hyper after all that candy and wouldn’t go down for a nap, meaning Fidds had a cranky and tired little with a sugar high to deal with. That was a lesson learned quickly

-Ford calls Stan his “Buddy” because Stan is Ford’s buddy! It’s also a casual and affectionate way to refer to a family member back when they were growing up. Stan will teasingly call Ford “Buddy” back sometimes too, and Ford loves it! Him and Stan are Buddies!

-Fidds is just “F” but in that long drawn out way kids will sometimes do. Like “eeeefffffff” you know? Fidds thinks it’s hilarious that he does that, which means Ford keeps doing it just because he’s getting praised by doing it

-Ford has Dr Mittens, his polydactyl cat thag Stan lovingly hand stitched for him, but Stan’s also got him a couple of other plushies, just so he has his choice: Dr Mittens, an Octopus, a BigFoot, and a Mothman. Dr Mittens is, of course, his favorite, but he’ll sleep with all four on the occasion, he loves a plushy pile

-I’ve mentioned this before, by little Ford is hyper and energetic, he’ll run around and talk for hours on end until he crashes during nap time. It’s even worse if he’s had sugar, which doubles his energy and somehow the speed of his talking. His jelly bean intake is strictly limited when little

-I like to head cannon that Ford hates his vegetables. Sometimes the texture is off for him, sometimes it’s the flavor, and sometimes it’s the smell. But Stan and Fidds can get him to eat them about 60% of the time. Stan because he grew up with Ford, he knows how to cook and season them so the smell, flavor, and texture agree with him enough to stomach it. Fiddleford because he has a picky 6 year old, so he’s learned the tricks to getting a fussy little one to eat his leafy greens

-He has a weighted blanket with different constellations printed on the fabric. He needs lots of pressure, so it’s about a 50 pounder

-He has a designated spot for naps and this can’t nap anywhere else, and trust him, he’s tried. His body will not let him physically nap until he’s in his cozy fort in the corner of his room, filled with pillows and soft blankets. Dr Mittens has to be in his arms with his own blanket so he can nap, too

-He needs more than parallel play, he almost always to be actively involved in playing if someone’s there and doing an activity near him. If Dipper’s playing DDMD, Ford is right there with him, if Mabel and Dipper are playing a board game, so is Ford. Stan’s dealing out cards for everybody? Deal some out for Ford, please. He likes playing with others, having people to talk to without judgement and bullying, something he didn’t get a lot of in his youth. And of course he’s more than welcome to play, nobody is going to judge him for being little, Stan’s his caretaker, the twins love their Grunkle and love playing with him, Wendy’s just that chill, and Soos is writing fanfiction based off of these interactions. The warm and ready acceptance makes Ford feel so warm and fuzzy inside

-Sometimes he has bad days, where noises and feelings, and memories, and textures are too much for him, but his family will be right there with him, soothing and easing him, trying their best to keep him calm and even. Even if he has a meltdown or a tantrum, no one’s getting mad at him. He’ll be calmed and wrapped up with a fuzzy blanket underneath his weighted blanket, the light turned low and Stan or Fidds right there with him, so he knows he’s not alone or in trouble

-He’s so soft when Little, so happy and free, just a cute little who needs so much love and a little patience. And he gets more than enough love and a whole lot of patience. He’s just so loved that sometimes he’ll cry from the good, but overwhelming feelings

-He’s just so happy :,)

[mazeinthemiroh]

Hey!!❤️ I just saw that your requests are open and I was wondering if you could do a Stray Kids headcanon where they are always simping for reader who is a member just like those videos on youtube where the title is 'skz being a bunch of simps for each other' so that but to reader yk, also you can choose if reader is actually their crush or not.🤗

stray kids crushing on the 9th member

genre: fluff

warnings: none

please like and reblog if you enjoy <3

chan

chan talks about you. a lot.

every time he does a channie's room, without fail he will mention you

and when he does, he's got this dreamy look in his eyes and an adoring tone in his voice

of course, he likes talking about all of the members. but he spends more time dwelling on you without even realising it

it is only when stays comment 'you've been talking about y/n for a long time, chan' that he gets a bit flustered and shakes his head, apologising and smiling bashfully

minho

minho teases you the most but is also the softest with you

it's a weird mix but that's just how lee know rolls!

he feels you understand him better than anyone else and that brings you guys closer to him

you have an unspoken understanding with one another. a simple glance across the room is enough communication for you both to feel reassured

he always has your back, and he knows he can trust you to do the same

that's why he feels he can be vulnerable with you, despite his avoidance of doing so,

changbin

denies he likes you

but smiles like an idiot when your name is even so much as mentioned in a conversation

and he praises you A LOT. whether you're there or not, he's always got something nice to say about you

he likes being your workout partner

mainly so he can show off his glorious arms and make you flustered

because, as much as he tries to deny it, he can't help but feel flustered by even the smallest things you do

he doesn't let it show easily though

hyunjin

he feels like you're the only one who truly understands him

he's a bit of a mystery to many. as much as he is close with the other members, he feels that he has a special connection with you

and hyunjin thrives on deep connections with people. it's not a usual affair for someone to come into his life and completely embrace who he is, flaws and imperfections as well as the good stuff.

so his feelings naturally grow because of this

being the emotional artist he is he channels his feelings through his artform in order to understand them. which means... a lot of painting of you. and he's embarrassed by how much you linger on his mind when he's painting but your face is all he sees.

jisung

hyper around you

but also tones it down when you tell him to

respects you more than anyone!!

he's pretty much putty in your hands tbh. like he is chill and casual with you but at the same time would do absolutely anything for you it's crazy

the other members take the piss out of him because he has never acted this way before

probably makes a conscious effort to calm down around you because you just get him happy and excited

felix

literally in awe of you

loves having deep conversations long into the night

he gets a little flustered when you give him eye contact for too long, perhaps looking away and clearing his throat

he essentially acts the same way towards you as he does with changbin ngl 💀 but perhaps more touchy and bold

very clingy and cuddly

you're his comfort person, and he is yours <3

seungmin

he wants to conquer his feelings

he's very mr. darcy about this whole scenario, really

will be quite cold or reserved near you, just so he can try and figure out his feelings by himself

doesn't ask for any help

you end up confronting him for being so cold around you which is not very hard to notice, considering he used to be so close with you before

and then he feels like an asshole and just ends up confessing to you anyways

jeongin

he's a shy bean

but has been getting better and better at hiding his shyness, and is pretty chill for the most part

can't help but feel his cheeks heat up when you go near him

i mean... stray kids in general is quite a clingy group, so cuddling is something unusual for any of you

but as much as jeongin pushes everyone's affection away, he doesn't put up as much of a fight when you're concerned

which you feel quite honoured about!

[charlidos]

Here's an extract from an interview with Orlando in a French magazine, in 2003 (translated by me). All these paragraphs contain information that I've rarely or never heard before, so I thought it was intriguing.

Did being in New Zealand help you get under the skin of an Elf? Yes, the country is very green and is full of great sites, it inspired me to do a lot of sports and have a very balanced life. I did a lot of swimming. I also stopped drinking coffee. At one point, we filmed during the night, for nine weeks straight and at the beginning, when I arrived at the set, I had drunk two big cups of espresso while doing make up. But as a result, I was completely over excited. When I saw the results in the dailies, I found I was touch much on the screen. So I decided to stop drinking coffee. Little by little, I could transform into an Elf. I drank herbal tea with lemon. I also tried to stop smoking. But, whatever Viggo may say, I didn't start eating only berries and nuts!

First, I want to know: did Viggo ever publically say Orlando only ate nuts and berries? It's such an hilariously surprising segue; sounds like something Viggo was teasing him about back then. Viggo maybe couldn't imagine being vegetarian? Or maybe he was worried that Orlando, being quite hyper and having a very physical role, would collapse from exhausting and malnourishment? It's a lovely little insight to all the ribbing going on.

It's also intriguing how Orlando describes his progress from bouncing off the walls (from too much coffee, youthful enthusiasm, nervousness and probably ADHD) to finding calm and his inner elf. Can't help imagining Viggo introducing Orlando to yerba mate and meditation. Viggo is often described has having endless energy, but he's also very focused and serene. And considering how much Orlando says he observed Viggo and learned from him, I can see that this must have been one of the things he learned: to channel your energy to when you need it, to control it.

Did you experience any mishaps on set? A lot! For example, I was in a car which got stuck in mud for many hours with Sean Bean and Viggo Mortensen. We had gone to the countryside to buy Christmas presents for our families. There were a lot of great handicraft shops on the way, but the roads weren't very good.

Is this a completely different story than the one so often told, about Sean & Orlando getting caught between landslides and having to stay over in cottage for a couple of days? Because that tale also contained Christmas shopping... But the story normally lacks Viggo, and they were never really stuck in any mud, only in a random cottage. If it's a different time, how many times did they drive around buying Christmas gifts? And if they got stuck in the mud "for hours", how did they get out? And did the three of them have a good time in the car while waiting? Hehe.

I'm forever intriguied by the myths created around the filming of LotR. The lore seems to have a life of its own, regardless of what actually happened.

Did your family spend Christmas with you in New Zealand? Yes, my family, my girlfriend at the time and my friends made the trip. I love celebrating Christmas and I organised a big party with lots of presents for everybody. It was summer in New Zealand so it was quite unusual to celebrate Christmas in the sun. The New Zealanders love to barbecue crayfish at that time of year. It was very special Christmas food! The other actors went home for the holidays, but I decided it would be more fun to stay. I had a brilliant house on the beach and I invited all my closest friends and family. They all loved New Zealand. We took a trip to the North Island by car and it was magnificent. Actually, I have cousins who moved to New Zealand, so I now have relatives there.

Seems Orlando's whole family came over for Christmas in 1999, including Orlando's then girlfriend. I mostly find this interesting because firstly, there were a lot more people visiting and being around from time to time than you'd think, if you just read the "official" lore. Secondly, this girlfriend story is always different; according to one she stayed in NZ with Orlando for seven months - "and then two more", before they broke up. In another, she came to visit briefly, but they broke up because of the long-distance thing. He's at one point engaged but mostly she was erased from the stories. And obviously, not all those things can be true at the same time. For me, it just shows how much we are NOT told about life on the set, and how much info is a little unreliable (including this).

[painter-of-the-stars]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 , 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 . . .

Bleeeeep! The Payphone is ringing ! Requested: can i req a leo valdez x daughter of poseidon reader? <333 ( @bows-and-olivia-rodrigo, Thank you for coming by!)

Or I’ll never give my heart ,And the moment I can feel that.. A Leo Valdez Oneshot!

Leo Valdez is in love. That's all he knows, and all he wants to know. He's always so hyper aware of his feelings around you. Oh, why should such an enchanting girl even exist? One packed with surprises, who loved the ocean, the beach, and most of all, who loved him back.

"Hey! Leo, stop-that-that tickles!" You giggle, trying your best to back away from his hands, which were easily tickling you by making slow circles over your knee. Briefly, you remember it was you who had invited him to try, with a bold statement of: "Pfft. I don't get tickled, love. Such things don't bother me, really."

Oh, how wrong you were. It initiated an attack from the curly-haired boy, his trademark impish grin plastered on his face. "Really, mamacita? Well, I'd like to see."

So here you were, ruining the sheets of your freshly made bed, trying to crawl away. His laughter and yours echo together in your cabin -- both sounds of pure happiness.

His hair falls in messy curls over his eyes, as he tries to catch you again, pulling you gently by the ankle, his nose scrunching up in the way it did when he laughed. Neither of you paid attention to the noise you were making, because who really cared? You were in love, and you were 16 and you were allowed to be crazy. "Thought you said you'd handle it, amor! Or have you gone soft?" he teases, gasping exaggeratedly when you throw a pillow at him. You grin, just as teasing, trying to comb through the mess of your hair. You've ended up beside each other, his hands locked in yours. "Maybe I exaggerated a bit. But for all that trouble, you know what I deserve?" "Hmmm..another tickle attack?" "Absolutely not. I'd like a kiss as a reward, if you didn't mind." "You could ask me for the moon and the stars for all i care. I'll give you anything you want." So, he moves closer, his hand placed gently under your jaw, grin still crooked as ever, face slightly red from all the laughing. You move in, to kiss, and finally the person at the door makes a sound. "You guys do know the door is pretty much unlocked, yeah? Kids these days. So cheesy." Percy Jackson grins, already ready to go spill the beans to the rest. Well, now you were totally screwed.

a/n: first oneshot! It's not great, but I do hope you like it! Feel free to req again, thank you!

Bleeeeep! Insert a coin into the slot to make another wish! Later, reader!

[eggymf-archived]

hogwarts legacy headcanons + imagines: how they fell for you and how they ended up asking you out

ft. sebastian, ominis, garreth, and amit with gn!reader

themes: a lot of fluff, sfw, slight crack lmao idk

warning: not proofread; unedited

masterlist

sebastian sallow

he will most likely (and unknowingly) dig his own grave by "harmlessly" calling you pet names and not-so-subtly flirt with you the moment you manage to catch his attention

how did you catch his attention? when he finds you sneaking in the restricted section when he himself was also sneaking into the same place (spiderman meme moment lmao)

contrary to popular belief, he's probably not flirty to most people, preferring to hit the books and practice his spell-casting. the people he wouldn't mind snogging or more though? hmmmmmm

then there's you, who's astonishingly immune to his charm and suave words. he finds that alluring but in actual reality, you're probably just too unassuming to realize he's making moves

he most likely fell for you either the moment you whooped his ass during a duel, or when you effectively saved his ass in some way from either battling spiders, poachers, or goblins

he didn't realize it at first though, until it slowly started to sink in that spending time with you gives him some sort of addicting glee deep down

that's when he realized that he can't mess around anymore with the casual pet names and flirting, so he stops doing those the moment he becomes aware of his feelings

he tries playing it cool regardless along with denying his feelings. he settles for that painful pining, however (damn that crucio must've done something to him to push through with this sort of pain--)

ominis would've probably smacked him in the head for being an oaf and overcomplicating things for himself

but just as he's not so subtle with his flirting tendencies, it's the same with his jealousy and shattered ego

"leander wants to invite who out for a date?!"

"(y/n). i overheard him and weasley talking about asking (y/n) out for a date later in hogsmeade. don't see why that should matter much to you though," ominis shrugs, casually popping a flavored bean into his mouth.

"it's leander for merlin's sake! leander fucking prewett - the mandrake-looking moonmind who lost to me multiple times in a duel!" sebastian hissed, angry jealousy and disbelief evident in his tone.

"oh i see what's going on now."

"the last time i checked, you're blind, ominis."

"i'll pretend you didn't say that, sebastian. but least leander prewett isn't on the verge of stealing my significant other."

"they're not my significant other-"

"oh, but you want them to be. how about you stop lying to yourself and just ask (y/n) out before he does? simple solution for a simple problem, unless you want prewett to do it first."

sebastian stormed off, heading towards a confused-looking (y/n) while ominis was smirking triumphantly.

he "forgot" to tell sebastian he was just pulling his leg. whoops.

"you. me. three broomsticks. today. after class."

ominis gaunt

we all know he's baby, but boy he's really snarky at first and you were kinda scared of him

you've probably been crushing on him since the first day you met him despite his bark (bitch pls who wouldn't be?)

everyone in your year is hyper aware of your crush towards him 'coz they actually see what you do for him in secret whenever you could (such as countering any hex or jinx his older siblings would try to cast at him in hallways when they were still students in hogwarts)

you didn't really want to offend him in any way hence the secrecy of your actions. he's rather adamant that he can handle it all on his own, but you just do it voluntarily as an act of love.

during potions class is when you look out for him the most. when you weren't in the same table as him, you'd adjust the flame for him using your wand from a considerably long distance whenever you noticed that weird swirls were coming out of his cauldron.

professor sharp noticed this eventually, so he ends up assigning you to the same table as ominis every school year primarily for safety reasons (or maybe he finds the one-sided pining rather painful to look at)

you were more open with giving your help to him from that point onwards, telling him if he grabbed the wrong ingredient, handing him over things, if the potion looks wrong, etc.

ominis' grades in potions improved thanks to you!

he shares his treats with you and occasionally teaches you new spells in the undercroft as a form of reciprocation

little do you know, ominis actually knows what you've been doing all these years. he just doesn't feel he deserves someone as kind as you are, much to sebastian's chagrin watching the both of you pine for each other

he always has been rather attracted with how gentle and caring you are (i mean, you did prevent his cauldron from exploding at his face at several points), and he fell more overtime as he got to know you. he's just extremely subtle about how he shows his feelings.

"seems like i'm running low on ingredients," ominis mutters, shaking his nearly empty jar of crushed moonstone.

"we have been using alot of them lately, haven't we? i'm running out of quite a lot of ingredients too actually," you said.

now's definitely ominis' chance.

"how about we go to hogsmeade later after class to buy the ingredients? and perhaps have some butterbeer or go to honeydukes after. my treat. if you don't mind, that is."

your face burned at this. he asked you out. merlin, he actually fucking asked you out.

"s-sure! i'd be glad to. l-let's meet at the bell tower entrance later! see you!" you sputtered rather embarrassingly as you gathered your things before scampering off to your next class. a faint smile and a blush graces ominis' usually stoic expression.

"would you look at that. you finally had the guts to ask her out on a date," sebastian drawls, elbowing lightly at ominis' rib.

ominis scowled, his face flushing dark red both in embarrassment and annoyance, earning a teasing chortle from his brunette-haired best friend.

garreth weasley

you're both partners-in-crime: best friends since childhood to be precise

however, this dork initially sees you more as a gorilla than an actual human being *monke noises*

you can't blame garreth though - you both went through the childhood stages together and he's so comfortable with your presence and vice-versa

despite your mischief with him and both of you landing yourselves in detention quite often, you've actually roped him out of trouble several times from flunking his grades. surprisingly you're pretty smart for a troublemaker

gryffindor loses alot of their house points mostly because of you two especially during potions class

thanks to the both of you, a cauldron lid lodged itself to the ceiling of the potions classroom after a huge explosion. professor sharp has never removed it as a grim reminder of both of your "shameful" behavior during class (or perhaps he was actually amused by the incident). both of you got a week's worth of detention from that as well.

special mention to garreth completely burning off one of sebastian's eyebrows (a/n: watch this tiktok for the context)

how garreth realized he loves you: partner-in-crime? check. loves your personality? check. will probably die if you're not around? double check. he hates being away from you? CHECK. he would do all sorts of things to make you happy? check. you're an actual human being? surprisingly, after careful evaluation and contemplation, check.

and then realization dawns upon him that all this time, he's been in love with his best friend for years and counting. however out of fear of ruining the friendship, he decides not to confess

potions class - your absolute favorite. garrett, however, isn't looking particularly excited today - he absolutely dreads today's particular lesson: amortentia - the love potion.

garrett was determined to stay out of trouble today. getting professor sharp's attention is the worst thing that could possibly happen. unfortunately, violent sparks flew from his cauldron after he accidentally dropped his whole bottle of powdered moonstone due to his jitters.

"ah, perfect. mr weasley, please come up here. instead of blowing up another cauldron yet again, perhaps you should tell us what you smell?"

"a-ah. right, sir. um.. i smell..." 

garreth took a whiff. his senses went into full overdrive as a familiar, comforting array of scents engulfed him. long story short: his brain short-circuited.

“... (y/n)!” he blurted out of pure nervousness, causing an eruption of gasps and wolf whistles while you flushed pink at his sudden and rather public confession. garreth was absolutely mortified upon realizing what had happened as he rushed back to his station. as soon as potions classes ended, you approach garreth who was looking dejected.

"garreth, i-"

"yes, (y/n). i've loved you since we were kids-"

"wait. let me-"

"i know it took too long for me to realize-"

"garreth-"

"but it was always you and i got scared-"

he was cut off from rambling any further as you gave him a peck on the lips. the ginger-haired male was stunned, whispering an "oh" in realization as he slowly beamed.

"faculty tower after class? let's go to honeydukes."

you smiled, nodding in agreement.

amit thakkar

oh boy, where do i even start with this one

long story short: it was love at first sight for him

but with how skittish he gets especially when he's around you? he avoids you like the plague to avoid making a fool out of himself

you bring out his dreamy, poetic side

he's a writer, so he secretly writes poems and stories about you as an outlet to express his love in some way

he keeps those several pieces of parchment sandwiched in between his thick books. whenever he secretly gets bored of the class, that's when he starts writing down those little (and unfortunately unsent) love notes

but alas, he can't avoid you forever. you were both assigned in pairs to map out several star charts for your astronomy class

he discovers that you do have a fascination for the cosmos just as he does, and that you're an avid listener to his enthusiastic ramblings about the said topic

eventually he starts to be more comfortable around you

he was content with this platonic set up actually - just you and him chilling under the night sky. hell, he feels lucky to be even graced by your presence

however, all hell broke loose because of everett clopton teasing him after he found one of his romantic literary snippets, thus resulting in the unconsented confession of his feelings towards you

amit has been avoiding you eversince that incident after charms class with everett clopton reciting one of his cheesy poems about you after taking his charms textbook without his permission. in a fit of embarrassment, he actually ran out of the classroom, ignoring your calls. for once, he didn't care about his time table, opting to retreat himself to his favorite corner at the library's 2nd floor as a means of consoling himself with the peaceful silence.

lately all he does is to drown out his racing thoughts by either reading one of his more complicated books or burying himself with extra work. humiliation aside, he really didn't know how to face you now. he thinks he has permanently lost you even as a platonic friend, and that's what crushed him the most about the situation.

he failed to notice the soft footsteps approaching him as he buried his nose behind a book once more.

"amit?"

he jolted up at the sound of your voice calling him and the both of you stared at each other in silence briefly. you were visibly rather nervous, playing with the dry skin of your fingertips - a mannerism amit had noted that you did whenever you get nervous.

"about charms class-"

"(y/n), don't worry about it. we don't have to-"

"no, please let me finish."

amit stilled, listening attentively.

"i got the book from everett when you rushed out of the classroom. i'm sorry, but i did read some of the other notes. but you have no idea how happy i was when i read them, amit."

you took a step forward, finally mustering enough courage to take his hand lovingly - a shy gesture of proclaiming your adoration towards him.

"could you make more of them, please? for me?"

it took a second or two for your rather cryptic confession to sink in. but the moment it did, amit was brimming with so much happiness he could burst anytime in that moment, wide smiles and all.

"yes, of course. but only after a date with you."

[historia-vitae-magistras]

A lightee ask than usual but do you have any food or eating habit thoughts?

Ooohooohh, I did a whole ass seminar on the history of food. Failed it because I almost bled to death but I got to keep all the material! I've got.... a lot of thoughts and feelings about food culture. Too goddamn many, tbh. This got really long so I'll have to do a part two for other characters if wanted but lol enjoy.

Alfred:

 —Actually pretty gourmet little shit when he's got time and effort. He's made food Maria loves so often she has to give up on pretending she didn't enjoy it because fucking hell, he makes good chilaquiles after they've been drinking and fucking. There is, however, a non-zero chance he hasn't eaten a vegetable since the Nixon administration.

 —With that combustion engine metabolism, he's also perpetually hungry, so he eats whatever is around him. His guts do not like this, especially when it's a lot of dairy.

 —He has that kind of lactose intolerance that's tied to his health and stress, so if he's been particularly freaked out lately, he'll remind the world of his nuclear arsenal when he's got to use the toilet after that triple cheeseburger with a side of deep-fried cheese curds.

 —He's a stress eater too. He eats every negative emotion he's ever had especially when he's trying not to binge drink or do drugs.

 —He’s exceptionally food-motivated. They didn’t call one of his first major historical eras ‘the starving time’ without reason. He has preferences, but food is also food, and he’ll genuinely enjoy it in most forms as long as it's not rotten or otherwise godawful. Cowboy coffee and beans for ten days straight, and he will genuinely be the only man on that cow trail not sick of it by the end.

 —This also goes into why he’s so generous with food. He’s big on homemade food. He’ll make a whole big ass batch of like some sort of mac and cheese, and all the neighbours will get a big ol’ bowl of it with an ‘oh just return the Tupperware whenever,’ and it will genuinely be one of the best things they’ve ever eaten in their lives. Europeans recoil in horror, but our portion sizes are almost never single servings. It’s a generosity and hospitality practice except drinks. He really will down like a 2 liter of Slurpee in a single sitting.

 —He doesn’t mind eating alone. Actually prefers it sometimes. He loves eating in his car. American frontier culture, especially mountain men, had an often hyper-individualized, almost mythic culture of spending long periods alone in the woods and not being very sociable; thus a lot of situations where single servings were a thing, eating alone in quiet without something to do can be a real goddamn luxury.

 —He’s a really big protein guy with his metabolism. Sometimes exists on protein shakes but is more often a beef or barbeque or ham or alligator jerky. And a somewhat chunky Alfred is a healthy Alfred. A perfectly cut no flab Alfred is an Alfred who might be severely dehydrated and on several kinds of uppers.

 —He has better tastes than Arthur who didn't really realize food was supposed to taste good until like ten years ago but his combinations can be equally wild and unappetizing as they are batshit tasty.

—He loves spicy food. He's got so many opinions about hot sauces.

—He’s always hungry. If he isn’t hungry or turns down food, its genuinely a bad sign. If he turns down anything or just is just picking at it his food alarm bells should be sounding. He’s either about to declare war or puke all over the table or keel over dead. Peckish or food coma is his default state. Like if he was a smaller guy someone would say he’s got a binge disorder but he’s tall and beefy so he’s pretty okay.

 —Incredibly adventurous eater too. People will assume since there’s that old school culture of Anglo-American who eats the same 7 meals every week and might keel over dead if the meatloaf is slightly different he’ll be a bit hard to please but then he’s absolutely charmed by everything from Korean kimchi to Lithuanian Lašiniai.

 —He loves anyone who feeds him, just got to be a bit careful because he’s got surprisingly delicate stomach for the world superpower.

 —That American obsession with authencity means he’s surprisingly good at remembering people’s food culture or eating norms. He figured out chopsticks in ten seconds and quickly picked up the cues and manners of eating in any given culture. Still struggles with modulating his voice and personality, so he can often come across as rude, but he's so excited to do so. It's almost frustrating how happy he is to try and adapt to people around him and how happy he can be to fit in.

Matt:

 —He's a very good cook when he's putting in effort for other people, but he's not really like Alfred, who he'll make a whole ass meal for one just to relax on a Sunday.

 —He does tend to eat more vegetables than Alfred, but only because his northern vitamin deficiency has him binging them when he can afford them or they're available during the summer.

  —He can be weirdly picky on his own, but no one ever really needs to ask about his favourite food or how he likes anything because he always just goes with the flow around other people. “Just get me whatever you’re getting.” comes out of his mouth often.

 —There's a lot of sour cream/crema and yoghurt/coconut milk involved when he eats Mexican or Indian food for as much as he loves it.

 —Katya was singlehandedly responsible for his ability to maintain a normal weight during the 20th century by adding rye bread and perogies/vyrenki to his diet. He craves mushroom-umami flavours when he misses her, which is most of the time.

 —When he’s normal and eating the Anglo-North American diet, but he isn’t always eating it, he gets some strong sugar cravings, especially when he’s west of Manitoba. He’s as fond of birch syrup as a flavour as he is maple; there’s just less production. But the kind of deprivation he got and his own tendencies to not eat sometimes cause white sugar to just straight-up burns.

 —There's very much something of François to Matt's dietary habits, but less in his personal tastes and more in that he might be more sensitive to flavours. He has that kind of discerning and slightly oversensitive palate, but he’s a shitty perpetually broke frontier settler colony. He knows better/feels too guilty/is too embarrassed of himself to really indulge it.

 —He kept too much of his peasant communalism in his eating habits. Where Anglo-American communities did have a lot of cooperation, communal eating was a special occasion. The norm was based on the individual household. In contrast, French Canadian habitants still technically lived on medieval land plots and owed labour to a lord while also having a culture of seasonal male work, so Matt grew up used to communal ovens and eating most of his meals around others. Later, in Arthur’s jurisdiction, it was usually the same. He got a plate of whatever he was given, and it wasn’t something he had ever had to initiate himself.

 —Partially, he's sometimes exceptionally bad at eating when he has to choose to do it himself. Especially since the Americanization of the food culture took hold in the '80s and '90s. Whereas Alfred is food motivated from going without when he was little, Matt learned how to block out physical sensation until he collapsed because it was rare that someone, including himself, cared about what kind of state he was in. He just doesn’t eat at all when he’s stressed or anxious. And now it's his sole responsibility to do so as there aren’t the same community structures. He has a lot of Alfred’s abundance now, all the brunch and BBQ places anyone could ask for, but it hasn’t meshed with his eating habits. His people gave up so much of their communal eating in exchange for various choices and then wondered why they were so lonely. So he’ll just microwave a potato or a packet of Kraft dinner a day for a week straight and wonder why he feels dead because, technically, he did eat something. It’s seriously a miracle he got as tall as he did.

 —Feed him nothing but hardtack for three years, and he won't complain until he's dropped dead of scurvy. If Arthur puts some sort of godforsaken mixture of plum sauce or gin-infused spag bol in front of him, he’ll compliment it before he disassociates to get at least some of it down.

[ivys-head-is-spinning]

Get to know me!

Hello, my name is Ivy! I decided to do a get to know me thing so here we go.

Pronouns: She/They/He

Queer. Mostly into girls, somewhere ace and I don’t care all that much about pronouns.

I'm a minor. Be normal please.

Type one diabetic.

Autism and ADHD with a side of anxiety and depression (maybe ocd too idk). Self diagnosed and HEAVILY researched. Believe me I did months of research before I allowed myself to use the words and I spoke to my therapist so don’t come for me. I am just simply not able to get official diagnosis right now but I’m going to as soon as I move out (hopefully)

Jewish ✡️ and Canadian 🇨🇦

Don’t interact with me if you are sexist, homophobic, transphobic, antisemitic, ableist, racist, a pedophile or any other shit like that. I will block you.

My newsies strike name is Fidget!

♋️🦀 and INFJ

I vent a lot on here btw. Gotta do it somewhere.

My special interests:

NEWSIES (mainly that's what I post about)

Disney

Broadway and musicals- the one's I've seen live are Hamilton, Wicked, & Juliet, Lion King, Frozen, Hadestown, Little shop, Six, Aladdin, New York New York, Anastasia, RENT, The Devil Wear Prada musical, Mamma Mia, Without You (which is Anthony Rapp’s solo show), New York New York, Water for Elephants and The Outsiders. (and a few others but I was too young to remember.) The musicals I've seen online are Newsies (duh), Dear Evan Hansen, Heathers, The Prom, West Side Story, If/Then, Lempicka, Falsettos, Great Gatsby, Bandstand, Waitress, Legally Blonde, Bonnie and Clyde, 21 Chump Street, Ordinary Days, The Last 5 Years, In the Heights, the Mean Girls movie musical (the actual musical is next on my list) and Tick... Tick... Boom!

I also love The Violet Hour, In the Light, In Pieces, and Warriors (these are all musical concept albums you should go listen to)

Julie and the Phantoms

Music! But only the very specific artists that I like. Some that I love include Age of Madness (Jeremy Jordan's band), Laura Osnes, Ben Platt, Sara Bareilles, Idina Menzel, All Time Low, Olivia Rodrigo, Chappell Roan, Eden Espinosa, Christy Altomare, RØRY, Disney, Shoshana Bean, Negative 25, musicals, really anything sung by Jeremy Jordan (or other broadway stars I like but that's a whole other list)

Currently hyper fixated on Newsies, warriors concept album and Supergirl!!!

Other things I like include:

Plants

Stars

Axolotls

Octopuses

Fun facts

My marble collection

Tangled the Series

Supergirl tv show (the one with Jeremy Jordan)

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

My tumblr moots

Arts and crafts

Fan fiction

Stuffed animals

Music

Singing

Dancing

Acting

Find me on ao3 @ javidiscannon99! Please go read my Newsies fic.

Matching profile pics with @ya-what--ya-erster

Ask me about my ✨special interests✨

Please send me questions, and feel free to DM me I’m always up to chat as I love making new friends on here (fair warning I’m a little awkward and struggle with social cues lol)

Cheers!

Ivy

(here’s the link to my ask game!)

[bygiornogiovanna]

Hello there! Apologies if I sound rude! But may I request a scenario where Giorno and Josuke are hit by a Stand and act different?

Giorno acts hyper, bubbly and adorable while Josuke acts super shy, timid and cute? And Reader has to deal with all the cuteness?

Flip The Switch (Giorno Giovanna/Josuke Higashikata x GN! Reader)

anon, u are offically my ˢᵐᵒˡ bean. in your further requests *if there will be more, please sign yourself like that.

the images below represent both me when I read your request and saw how POLITE (and adorable) you were and y/n seeing josuke/giorno ily so much

also excuse that my requests are taking so long. i'm just lazy.

to anyone who requested something, I see your requests!!! and i am working on them, they will come...eventually haha

also, happy one year anniversary to this blog!

"You don't stand a chance against my stand, Y/N L/N!" bluffed the villain under the boss's command, Akari Massimo. He was a tall, light-skinned man, probably in his twenties. If you looked past his evilness, you would see a handsome young man, with golden eyes and a beautiful, healthy white hair, whose smile was nothing but sweet and charming. However...His power of turning one into its opposite wasn't that sweet and charming. His Stand, Flip The Switch, could turn you from woman to man, from sweet to mean, but worst of all...from powerful to weak. Of course, your lover could easily defeat him. The problem was...your lover wasn't there.

You were honestly scared. You weren't weak, but you weren't strong either, so you didn't know what his stand would do to you. You had to buy some time until him or his friends arrived. You couldn't risk it.

"Do you really think all that cheap talk will scare me? Oh please, I've encountered people way scarier than you!" you let yourself do what you knew the best: annoy people. He seemed one that loved his pride, and he wouldn't stand the fact that someone like you would dare insulting him like that.

"I suggest you keep your mouth shut if you want to live! You have no idea what my stand, Flip The Switch, is capable of!" Massimo said and you huffed.

"What is it going to do? Turn me into a cat? Please, it sounds pathetic." you saw his left eye twitch and a satisfied smile crossed your face. "Actually, I wonder, if you use it on yourself, would it turn you into a clown or into the whole circus?" you gave him your sweetest, most fake smile.

You saw his stand appearing behind him and launching an attack towards you. You managed to avoid it, striking back, managing to scartch his face. "You fucking bitch, you scratched my handsome face! You'll pay for this!" he said and you swore you could see fume raising from his ears.

"Oh my..." you said, and before you knew it, another attack was right about to hit you, but...

☆Giorno Giovanna☆

"Not on my watch." You heard Giorno's voice and, suddenly, he appeared in front of you, blocking the hit with his body. You gasped and your eyes filled with tears when, after a few seconds, he didn't get up.

"Giorno!" you voice broke and you felt like your knees would give out when you saw your precious lover laying on the ground while clenching on his stomach.

"Awh, what a shame. Poor blondie boy couldn't save his poor little lover." Massimo said mockingly and he was about to say something else, but you heard Giorno mumble—Golden Experience Requiem.

"Uh oh...If I were you I would start saying my prayers." you said cockily and, before your enemy could react, he disappeared without a trace, probably trapped in the Infinite Death Loop. "Giorno, amore mio, are you okay?!" you rushed to his side, kneeling worriedly before him.

"Y/N..." he started softly and nothing seemed wrong...Until the blonde immediately crashed into your arms, hugging you tightly. "I missed you so much, tesoro!" Giorno yelled and you could swear you never heard him sound so excited.

"I-...Giorno, amore, are you okay?" you laughed and he hugged you tighter, laughing too. The moment you heard that, everything stopped.

Giorno Giovanna, the Don of Passione, laughed.

A sound so heavenly. You last heard him laugh more than two years ago. Giorno never laughs—all somebody, mostly you, can get out of him is a faint giggle. That's all.

You looked at him in shock and the blonde boy looked at you with a cute face, confused. "What's wrong, tesoro?" he asked in a smooth tone and he touched your cheek.

"...you laughed..." you whispered and a smile made its way onto your face. "It's been so long since I heard you laugh. Are you sure you are okay, amore?"

"I'm fine, promise. You don't have to worry about me." he said and his voice sounded ao tender, so smooth and soft, love-filled even. Although Giorno was never aggressive towards you, he never displayed his affection, and especially not in public.

You thought it was just the adrenaline and the fear of losing you making him act like that, but no. This kept going on for multiple days, Giorno acting the opposite of his usual personality.

In the small amounts of time you had alone, because, apparently, Giorno was extremly clingy, never leaving your side, you were thinking about what could've possibly happened for your dear boyfriend to act like this.

Then it hit you.

It was Massimo's stand.

Flip The Switch did that to your boyfriend.

Not that you complained, it was very cute to see your stoic boyfriend be a big baby, but...That wasn't Giorno. You had to talk with Bruno, to find a way...

Suddenly, your trail of thoughts was interrupted by your baby boyfriend coming home and directly jumping in your arms, whining about how much he missed you.

Giorno Giovanna, Italy's biggest man, was whining in your arms.

Yep, you had to do something about it.

☆Josuke Higashikata☆

"Not so fast." Josuke's smug voice could be heard and his tall frame shadowed yours, blocking the Stand's hit with his body. You felt like the world stopped when you saw your boyfriend groaned in pain, taking a few steps aside.

"Josuke!" you yelled and turned him to you. "Are you crazy?!"

"In love, yes." he said smugly and chuckled, clearing her throat. "See? I'm all fine, don't..." he stopped and then scrunched his nose, as if a rush of pain went through him. "Oi, Koichi, Okuyasu, handle this guy f'r me!" Josuke yelled and his two friends nodded, fighting with Massimo.

The pompadour boy fell to his knees, coughing a little. You kneeled by his side, softly rubbing his back, trying to comfort him.

"My love, are you okay?" you asked sweetly, your soft hands caressing his hair. You were the only one allowed to touch the man's hair whenever you want without getting yourself killed.

"I-...I...I a-am okay..." he stuttered, the sound of his words coming out as breathy. You were relived to hear, but then it hit you. Your boyfriend just stuttered.

Josuke Higashikata stuttered.

He shied away from your arms, hiding his blushing cheeks. You frowned confused and you looked between him and Massimo. Quickly, you put the pieces together.

It was Flip the Switch's work.

"Josuke..." you whispered to him and you hugged him tightly. Instead of hugging you back, he squirmed shyly, as he did the first time you hugged him. It made your heart melt and you chuckled softly.

"Y-Y/N what...a-are you doing?" he whispered back.

"Hugging my boyfriend? Is there something wrong?" you chuckled and hugged him tighter, making him blush embarrassed.

"N-no...Everything is okay..." his voice was barely above a whisper and he hugged you back, awkwardly and slowly.

You chuckled and nuzzled your face in his neck. Maybe it wasn't that bad that he protected you from Flip The Switch's attack—now you can be the one who teases and makes him flustered.

It will be fun. Won't it?

[kahuunknown]

The "Rebellious" one - BBC Sherlock sibling fanfic

!NOTE!: Male-reader/insert, inspiration from SHERLOCK TV Show

~~~

The rebellious one

Sherlock absolutely loved you; you were by far his favourite sibling by a long shot. You were the eldest of all your siblings, 1 year older than stuck up Mycroft and 8 elder than dear little Sherlock Holmes.

You were the troublemaker, mischievous without a doubt. You saw little reasoning behind Mummy dearest’s desires for you to become something great, like a doctor or lawyer. You hated the private piano lessons, the pointless tutoring sessions and eventually school altogether. It was easy to guess what you did, but dropping out of school was by far one of the best decisions of your life, and one of the easiest as well.

You were rebellious by nature.

Mummy and Daddy weren’t quite sure where the behaviour stemmed from as it was definitely not inherited from either of them. It was obvious to you however, the stress of being the first born, the expectation to be the most successful and therefore grand of your siblings. To be able to support yourself with ease and help your siblings if the need arises.

While you respected the ideal. You ultimately rejected the pathways your parents provided, paving a new one and building everything from nothing. It was satisfying seeing your parents reaction when you visited one Christmas dinner, they were horrified at the ink adorning your right arm. Sherlock however quite liked it, in fact he wasted no time gifting his present early, he wanted you to get his pirate sketch tattooed. And who were you to deny him?

That cute little face was irresistible normally, but with added intent and desire behind them? God, you were putty in his hands.

Together you went to a tattoo parlour, Sherlock was rambling furiously to the tattoo artist whilst the ink was being stained onto your skin, it was adorable, the passion in his story as he explained the intricacy of his design and the meaning behind it. ‘The adventures of Yellowbeard’. Sherlock called it, or something similar at least.

It didn’t quite match the other tattoo’s you’d gotten, as those were all grey-scale realistic designs, but Sherlock was adamant that colour was non-negotiable. The young Holmes was a hyper little bean as he jumped around in joy at the completion of his masterpiece. You couldn’t stop chuckling at his antics; the innocence was overloading your system.

Of course, Mum and Dad were horrified once the two of you returned, though they seemed less upset at the tattoo and more with the aspect of Sherlock in a ‘biker’s tattoo shop’ of which it was absolutely not. You weren’t an idiot, you’d made sure Sherlock was as safe as could be.

Mycroft thought you a moron the majority of your life. Growing up he strived to pass you at everything he possibly could, interestingly enough, it took much longer than expected. He thought you were just another goldfish, swimming around dumbly just like all the others. But of course, you were more than that he later realised.

You were a sponge. While you hated your mother’s insistent lessons and tutoring, you had an eidetic memory and couldn’t help but memorise absolutely everything ever taught to you. You would have been a prodigy, everything your parents ever dreamed you to be. But unfortunately for them, you had slightly different plans.

Mycroft thought he’d finally done it when he joined the British Government, there was no way you could outshine him now. Yet, despite not having achieved a high standing career, it was obvious that whenever the two of you met, who was smarter ultimately. You were the opposite of what you parents dreamed you to be, yet you were the happiest having done so. Mycroft admired that.

He’d admit that of course, you would win in physicality. Always. You loved going outside, working out, playing sports, and eating healthy. It was one of your passions, something that ultimately benefitted you quite greatly as your appearance remained younger for much longer than if you had of neglected fitness and health. Sherlock teased Mycroft relentlessly about it as well, how young and fit their elder brother looked in comparison. Of course it was playful teasing, but it was definitely something to respect.

It was only more recently that all three brothers started getting along quite nicely. Sherlock of course never thought ill of you, he just assumed you were an average idiot like John. You played the part quite well, snickering behind Sherlock back while explaining things to John, whom believed you to be his favourite of the Holmes children. You were fun to be around, the most human and emotional of all. It was refreshing to be around.

When you finally decided to reveal your hidden superpower, he was dumbfounded but also instantly relieved.

Mycroft however was a very different story. It started slowly, you invited him randomly to a gig, of which he was pleasantly surprised when he arrived to a wedding, you adorned in an unfamiliar suit standing at the stage and singing a sweet lullaby to the lucky couple. It wasn’t your usual style, sure, but you wanted to ease Mycroft into your life, and what better way to do it?

Over the years, Sherlock had subtly provided you with more tattoo designs he’d wish for you to get, all his own of course. You were still a sucker for those eyes; it seemed their affect never dimmed as the detective aged.

Eventually one day Mycroft approached you on the matter, rather shyly you’d point out as well, you were open and encouraging as he mumbled the reluctant request to add to your collection of ink with one of his own. Stating through hidden messages within his speech that he’d been feeling a little left out. Of course you were ecstatic, more than happy to agree.

It was then that Mycroft realised no matter what he’d accomplish, you always have the upper hand in the end. Not because of intelligence nor deducing skills, but because of your raw compassion and commitment to your beliefs and dreams, it was awe inspiring. Beautiful even.

Perhaps those brothers of yours might do a little rebelling of their own.

[selineram3421]

I love true crime, call it an obsession or a hyper fixation. But may I request a one-shot Ft Modern-day Human! Alastor x Reader, where the couple have lived happily together for a while ( is even engaged), and the two are on the couch, snuggled up, and their favorite show is interrupted by the news late one night. Like a breaking news broadcast of a string of multiple murders of criminals, drug dealers, and rapists that have occurred in the city comes on.

Maybe the reader notices Al gets really tense and they ask whats wrong and he passes them off gets up and just goes to bed without a word. Meanwhile days pass and the reader notices Alastor is on edge, maybe not showing up to his job, calling out constantly, not planning their wedding, coming home super late, maybe she finds some bloody clothing in the laundry- just weird things yknow (just a lot of off putting things they've just started to notice)?

They confront him when he comes home at a stupidly late hour of the night demanding answers of why he's acting so strange, if he doesn't tell them they're basically going to take off their ring and leave him then and there.. and he just breaks down emotionally to the reader?

I dunno /) . (\ throw all the Angst and Fluff you'd like to. I just love this idea lol.

Pssst! What does Ft mean?

As The World Caves In

Human Alastor X Human Reader Oneshot

Warning! ⚠

⚠ using she/they for reader, food, tw mentions of rape, murder, dismemberment, fluff/angst, hurt/comfort, blood, all caps for really angry shouting dialogue ⚠

~

You met Alastor during college.

He was majoring in communications and journalism for radio/television broadcasting. The building was right next to the one you had your classes in.

One day you both happened to bump into each other and just clicked. Not a day after was it boring, both of you causing slight chaos by telling cringey jokes and being weird.

It was nice though, having someone to be weird with you.

He liked your weirdness and you liked his.

Then one day he asked you a strange question.

"What would you say to someone who asked for your hand?"

"It depends on who's asking.", you reply. "Oh, and if you like it put a ring on it.", you finish, holding your left hand out as if waiting for someone to do just that.

"Hmm..", he hummed and held your hand as if examining it. "Ok."

Bringing a ring out of nowhere, he places it on your finger and nods with a look of satisfaction. Meanwhile you look at him with your jaw dropped.

Alastor just smiles at you.

"I put a ring on it."

"Geez, take me on a date first!"

❇

"We did it!", you cheer after both of you cleaned most of the apartment and did laundry.

"Finally!", Alastor said and dramatically sat down on the couch, acting faint. "Now we rest."

"Want to order take-out?", you asked sitting down next to him.

"Don't we still have yesterday's leftovers?", he says and pulls you close by the waist, placing a kiss on your cheek. "I could heat it up."

"That sounds divine.", you smile, also giving him a peck on the cheek. "I'll get things set up here while you get our food?"

"Sounds like a perfectly good plan.", he agrees with a nod and gives you one more peck before standing up. "Don't miss me too much darling~!"

He jokes while walking to the kitchen.

"Too late.", you respond and turn on the t.v. with the vox-b remote.

There's a chuckle from behind you as you flick through channels, looking for your show. After what felt like a long scroll down, you finally find the discovery channel. With a grin you click on it and wait for the show to start up with the end of "How Its Done."

"Almost Got Away is going to start after a commercial!", you tell your fiancé.

Its been a few years since that day. You still couldn't believe that it happened but the proof sat on your finger, and it was also archived on your Instu story.

The food doesn't take long to heat up and Alastor returns with two bowls of beans with sausage and rice, with a little bit of spice.

[can be seen as frijoles charros or cajun beans]

Both of you get comfortable on the couch, eating and occasionally talking about wedding plans, remembering to get drinks and taking a quick trip to the kitchen to get them from the fridge.

Just as you got comfortable again and the episode was starting, a flash of red and blue appears on the screen with bold letters.

"Breaking News!"

Two news anchors sit at a big blue table. One holding papers as the camera zooms in on them.

"Katie Prig and Tom Fosse bringing you some breaking news!", the woman, Katie starts. "There have been a number of crimes recently. About a forty-eight percent increase."

Tom chimes in. "A total of three missing persons have been found dead in the forest. Police say that the victims were female. Beaten and raped, before being killed and left in the woods."

"We are waiting to hear from police if any more bodies have been found.", Katie interrupts. "Let's check in with Mike."

Live feed is shown of a police cars parked at the start of the woods that has caution tape wrapped at the trail entrance, with k-9 dogs sniffing around. The camera zooms out, revealing a man in a blue jacket, with a news mic.

"I'm here on the south side of the city and its only been an hour of searching, the police have said there might be more bodies. One of the victim's bodies was found cut open and slightly dismembered.", he sniffs and moves his finger to wipe his nose.

From how close you two are sitting, you can feel Alastor tense up slightly as the corner of the man's lip on the screen turns upwards, its mostly covered by his hand and its gone within a second. The man goes back to a neutral expression.

"As you can tell the temperatures are dropping and since it'll rain tonight the officers are trying to cover as much ground as they can before any evidence is washed away."

A few dogs start to bark and the camera focuses on the k-9s and police officers running.

"Looks like there's a lead.", Mike says. "I'll send it back to you and Tom, Katie. We'll keep you updated."

When the screen switches back to the show, Alastor puts his bowl on the coffee table in front of the couch.

He's really quiet.

You look over at him and notice a frown starting to form on his face.

"Al?", you place a hand on his shoulder, effectively snapping him out of his thoughts as he turns to face you. "You ok? What's wrong?"

"Nothing Love.", he smiles, grabbing your hand off his shoulder and placing a kiss on your knuckles, just above the ring. "I just lost my apatite is all."

You nod in understanding and set down your bowl as well. "Wanna head to bed early then? I'll clean up, don't worry."

"Yes, thank you.", he agrees, letting go of your hand and stands up. "I'll get the bed ready.", he says before placing a kiss on your forehead and walking to the bedroom.

Cleaning up is quick, and you wash the dishes. Leaving the bowls on the drying rack before turning off the kitchen light and making your way to the room.

Alastor is already in bed when you walk in. After changing into comfortable sleep wear, you get in bed and turn off the lamp on your nightstand.

"Good night.", you say but don't hear anything back.

Assuming that he already fell asleep, you lay on your side and doze off.

.

A week passes and Alastor has been acting a little strange, but everytime you ask he just brushes you off with an "I'm fine."

You start to worry when he begins coming home late.

"Does the station really need you till 10 p.m. today?", you ask.

"I'm helping out a coworker with moving boxes and supplies.", he explains while getting his keys. "Don't worry, I'll call you if I leave early."

"Ok.", you say and follow him as he gets to the door. "Drive safe."

He smiles and gives you a peck.

"Don't stay up late for me. Lock the door and windows.", he says and walks out into the hallway. "Can't be too safe."

"I have a shift tomorrow around six in the evening.", you remind him, but see that he pauses.

"Darling..", he says with furrowed brows. "With all the crime going on, can you ask for earlier shifts?"

Now its your turn to smile.

"I can take care of myself. After all, I have Mr. Stabbington.", you say picking up a sharp pair of scissors and he frowns. "But if it makes you feel better knowing that I'm not out at night, then I'll ask for earlier shifts."

He grins.

"Ok now go! Or you'll be late!", you poke at him with your fingers and wave as he leaves.

Its not long till you're washing clothes that you spot what looks like a smeared blood stain on a pair of his pants.

"What the?", you say confused and try to remember if your fiancé got any recent wounds.

You set the pants aside for proper cleaning and continue to put the rest of the load in the washing machine.

A few days later after work, you get a call from the station Alastor works at.

"Hello?", you answer the phone, thinking Al is calling wanting an opinion on dinner or for something he forgot.

"Hi! I'm James, a coworker of Alastor's. I was calling to see if he is sick or something?", the man over the phone says.

"Sick?", you ask confused, walking up to your apartment building and going inside the building.

"Yeah, he didn't come in today and isn't picking up. The boss is kinda pissed. Is he alright?"

"He left early this morning..", you mumble quietly to yourself and wave to the security guard, making your way to the metal door and punching in the code to unlock it.

"Oh! He had a fever this morning but its going down now.", you say a quick lie.

"Ok, thanks for letting me know! Take care!", James says before saying bye.

You hang up and there's a sinking pit forming at the bottom of your stomach.

Why would Alastor skip work?

That feeling didn't go away and you started to have trouble sleeping.

When a scheduled wedding plan day came up, you got excited.

Flowers and colors were already picked out, today was supposed to be food. As you got the laptop open and notebooks set out, Alastor was dressed as if he was heading out.

"Were we going somewhere today?", you ask confused.

"We?", he says also confused.

"Yeah, its planning day Red.", you say smiling and walk over to him. "Remember its the food this time?"

A flash of realization crosses his face as he turns to look at the calendar on the wall nearby the kitchen.

"Oh."

Your smile goes away after noticing that he looks conflicted.

"Let me guess, you forgot and made plans.."

"I'm sorry. I was going to visit my mother.", he says with a slightly guilty tone.

A sigh escapes from your lips.

"Its ok. Go visit her and take some flowers.", you give a small smile. "Need any cleaning rags for the headstone?"

"No. I've got some in the car.", he says and pulls you into a hug. "Thank you darling."

He leaves soon after.

The thing you find odd is that he doesn't send you a picture of the cleaned headstone with fresh flowers like he usually does.

Weeks pass by and Alastor has been leaving work early or not going at all. Then arriving home late, lying to you about "his day at work" and now taking over washing the clothes after you asked about the red stains.

That sinking feeling gets worse, and now there's a burning sensation on your chest to accompany it. An aching in your heart.

One night you decide to wait with coffee.

Its late.

Hours have passed and the coffee has gone cold, both in the cup and in the coffee maker.

Sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket, staring into the coffee as you waited. The cup is half empty, and over time your gaze shifted over to your ring.

As you put the cup on the coffee table, you hear keys unlocking the door.

Taking a quick look at the time, you see that its three in the morning. Laying down, you pretend to sleep on the couch, pulling the blanket up to hide your mouth.

❇

Alastor was exhausted.

Keeping up with the news, working at the station, doing research, visiting the crime scene areas once they were opened to the public again, and lying to his fiancé.

He felt terrible.

They were so excited about the planning but he had to turn it down every time.

That murdering rapist and other scum were still on the loose in the city. He had got three, but still needed to get the one from the news.

He had to make sure she would be safe. They loved talking walks in those same woods. The smiles that she would show him every time they looked up at the trees, seeing the sunlight kiss their face. Looking like glowing freckles.

He had to.

Opening the door, he walked into the apartment quietly and closed it as soon as he could. Making sure to lock it and put up the door stopper.

After hanging up his jacket, he sees them asleep on the couch. As quietly as possible, he sets his keys down on the entry way table before taking off his shoes and making his way over to them.

He sighs, seeing the cup of coffee on the coffee table. "I told you not to wait for me.", he mumbles, kneeling down and goes to pick her up.

"Its 3 a.m."

Alastor flinches back, surprised that she was awake.

They sit up and look at him with such a sad gaze, the blanket slides off and pools around their lap.

"Why are you out so late?", they ask.

"Work at the station has been hectic-", he tries but she interrupts. "I've been getting calls from your coworkers saying you've been skipping work or asking why you left early."

Shit.

"Try again.", they're glaring at him now.

"I've been visiting-", he tries to come up with another excuse.

"DON'T USE YOUR DEAD MOTHER AS AN EXCUSE!", they snap and stand up from the couch. "Why are you lying to me!?"

"Darling please-", Alastor stands up as well and reaches out for their hand.

"No, don't touch me.", she backs away, crossing her arms.

A look of hurt crosses both of their faces.

"Why are you lying to me?", they ask softly.

The dim lighting in the room helps him see a small glint of light reflecting off of the tears staring to form at the corner of their eyes.

"You've been acting strange for a while now, you're coming home ridiculously late, lying to my face about work, and I know you're not visiting your mother!", their voice rises as they continue, the tears start streaming down their face. "You would have sent me pictures of her headstone like you always do when you're done cleaning it! And then I find red stains on your clothes!", she hiccups.

He calls out their name and tries to reach out to them again but they step back and shake their head side to side as to say no.

It hurts to see them crying.

"We..we had a conversation. If any of us found someone new, we would tell each other before anything happened. So no one got hurt and so we could have time to accept and adjust."

"My love, that's not what's going on. I promise!", he quickly denies what they are implying.

"Then what is going on!?", she shouts. "If its not that then what!?"

Alastor looks down at the floor, wondering if he should tell her or not.

Would they still love me after knowing? Will they leave? Would they hate me? Would they see me a s a monster? I did it for them..

The rooms becomes quiet.

She sighs, causing him to look up at her for the sudden noise.

"If you can't tell me, I'm going to walk out. Right now.", she says and goes to take off the ring.

He freezes.

No. No no no no no!

"Wait, please-!", he rushes up to place his hands over hers to stop her. "Don't do that, please. I love you! I love you!"

They are still trying, pushing his hands away and crying.

In a panic, he tells her. "I've been going after criminals!"

"What?"

He didn't know when he closed his eyes, but they were shut tight and it hurt a little bit. Seeking some sort of comfort, he held their hands closer to his chest.

A feeling that he hasn't felt in a long time settled in his stomach.

Fear.

He was scared.

"Remember the breaking news from a month ago?", he says, but they don't speak, likely waiting for him to continue. "I've been going after the murderers and rapists. A few others as well."

"Is that why you've been out late? And lying about work?", they ask. "What about the red stains? Have you been getting hurt?"

"No. I'm not getting hurt.", he reassures them, resting his forehead against theirs. "Its..not mine."

Finally opening his eyes, he sees that they are slowly putting things together.

"You've been killing?"

In that moment he breaks.

Legs giving out, now kneeling on the floor as he wraps his arms around their waist, hiding his face against their stomach.

"I did it for you!", he sobs. "I couldn't bear the though of losing you!"

The beating of his heart is frantic. It feels as if it'll burst at any minute. He doesn't notice that they've placed their hands on him, one on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head.

"You love taking walks in those woods, what if one of them got you? I'm terrified of getting a call from the police station and they say that you've been the latest victim! I had to do something, those damn pigs barely get the job done.", he rushes out, gasping a bit as he takes in some air.

Their breathing is the only thing they hear from each other.

"We're supposed to get married soon.", he finishes off quietly.

Feeling her start to move away, he begins apologizing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please don't leave me, please!"

Instead of leaving, they kneel down with him and hold his face in their hands, shushing him softly to calm him down.

"Alastor. I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving.", they whisper, using their thumbs to wipe away his tears. "Come on, stop crying honey."

It takes a moment for him to calm down and she pulls him into a hug.

"Thank you for telling me."

"You're not scared? Disgusted?", he asks, holding onto them tightly.

"I could never find you disgusting. Yes, its a little scary but you're doing more justice than the system.", they say and pull back slightly, giving him a small smile. "I'll always be on your side, even as the world caves in."

I don't deserve you.

He thinks as he stares at them in awe.

"I love you."

Finding his voice again, he quickly repeats what they've said.

"I love you. I love you, I love you.", he kisses them again and again, holding them closer. "I love you."

Alastor is so happy.

They didn't leave, they still love him, they aren't disgusted.

He's so relieved.

"You still need to make up for making me feel like shit though.", she says, causing him to chuckle.

"I'll make up for it, I promise."

Alastor really would do anything for them.

Even set the world on fire.

~

I heard the song during shuffle play and it was perfect for the title.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@i-heart-fictional-boys @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @stolas-thebirb @c4rved-pumpk1n @kiraisastay @scary-noodlesblog @willowaudreykeyes

I don't know if there's more 😅. I tried to find all of them.

ML Alastor🎙

[the-universal-sun]

*gently rolls in* do you perchance have some tiny Ford hcs? 👉👈💖 ~🐝

I think, for all their similarities, Ford and Stanley differ most when regressed. While little, Stanley is shy, quiet, clingy, and very sweet. Little Ford, on the other hand, is talkative, energetic, and quite rowdy. He feels safe to be out of his shell, so to speak. Little Ford, Poindexter as Stan calls him, likes Lego’s too, but he prefers the ones for the older kids. The Star Wars and space themed legos, as well as advanced puzzle games. I like to think that Stan regresses younger than Ford does, so that’s plays into their personalities and interests.

Little Ford loves fact books and documentaries. He’ll follow Stan around reciting all the facts he read about/watched. And Stan encourages it! He loves seeing his brother so happy, loves listening to him talk about what finds exciting! He also knows that, when like this, his Poindexter isn’t looking to engaging conversation, more of just a listener.

He also gets enforced naps, if he doesn’t nap he gets too hyper and won’t get to sleep on time at night, leading to Stan staying up later which means the next day both twins are tired and grumpy.

His favorite snack is jelly beans, and Stan has to impose a strict limit on how many he can eat, he’s already bouncing around the place, add all the sugar with it and he’s running around and into walls and corners, which lead to tears and wails, which leads to headaches for Stan.

Stan hand stitched a stuffed cat with 6 fingers (Dr. Mittens is the name), and Ford loves it, he sleeps with it and carries it around, calling Dr. Mittens his “research partner”. Stan thinks it’s so cute, he’ll take pictures of Ford reading a book and Dr. Mittens “taking notes” which the mini journal they made him.

Stan loves taking care of his Poindexter, and Little Ford loves being around his brother :)

[brights-place]

Synth Dating Headcannons

Pairings: Synth X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Synth dating headcannons! Yayyy! I love the techno trolls so much and I love when I get requests of them!

- Man I fucking love synth!

- Being Synth’s lover is getting to know the Synth behind his hyper chaotic ass

- He may be called an outward, rave-loving and happy-go-lucky person but there was so much more to him - You met him at first at an rave he was substituting for Trollex and he noticed you in the crowd - You stood out to him - He couldn't help but grin as he saw you dance and bop to the beats and flashing lights - Whenever raves happened he would try find you in the crowd when he is in the booth - He bumped into you at the front of the crowd as he smiled greeting you as you smiled back

- You two end up becoming REAL CLOSE

- Hangouts after the raves or more!

- You two end up on going on a couple of dates without knowing they where considered dates

- When he has an crush on you he ends up being a little more obvious with his feelings.

- Golden retriever boy 😭💗 - He invades your personal space a little more placing some of his hands on your waist when you dance for example and starts listening to your music with you and seems to enjoy it, asks you to cook more often, among other things.

- You never cease to be surprised with synth with every day you spend together which is everyday as he discovers something new about you no matter how small and how you notice things about you too

- You and him dance together when theirs an rave he would bop to the music and twirl you around as you two wear your glow sticks

- Melts into your hands easily as he is on your lap looking at you with admiration as he smiles while you praise him

- You spend most of your time in his room curled up on his bed reading while he sits on his bean bag chair and plays video games. - Your relationship is healthy and loving as you two would always be close and enjoy your time together - He would invite you to all the raves and would make sure you would go - You always come unless you aren’t into it he still likes to talk about it to you

- lights up when he sees you, who always has a new joke or dramatic story to share.

- Cuddling synth is normal and would hold you close… he’s so energetic - Synth wasn’t the most emotionally aware troll so he finds it hard to understand your emotions sometimes

- It takes him awhile but he gets there just for you and just to see you smile again cause if your not smiling he wouldn’t know what to do.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[morningstarwrites]

I have realized that my awkwardness allergy comment the other day may have come off the wrong way, so in an attempt to remedy that I'm gonna list everything that was SO GOOD about the last chapter.

Niffty getting a "disguise". What little description you gave I imagine her twirling in an Alice-style pinafore. Now I wanna draw American McGee Niffty, blue dress and bloody knife. Also the Cherub being so accepting and nice to her? Great.

Emily. Just everything about Emily, I love her. Especially with Lucifer. I adore her being super chill about him fucking up her name and I need more of that in this fandom. EMILY & LUCIFER BONDING!!! And her genuinely calling him beautiful and him not getting it? Ow my fucking heart. Even more when Alastor seems to notice Lucifer doesn't get it and I just imagine him being struck by a hint of jealousy at the compliment, and then immense frustration that Lulu is so clearly oblivious to how lovely he is. Delicious.

Alastor having boosted Lulu's confidence in his wings? Alastor KEEPING THE FEATHER? T^T Also I lose my shit every time you bring something back from previous chapters. Not enough people do that shit in their writing and it is wonderful.

Alastor being absolutely haunted by Angel's little comment lol. All while knowing that Lucifer, while likely aware of the implication, was not at all thinking about it when he did it. This being of Pure Temptation having the most innocent thoughts behind a perceived lewd act is amazing and adorable and I fucking love it.

Them bickering over ice cream because Alastor is a little shit I love how dumb they are.

Angel's FUCKING ACRONYM lmao because he would.

Alastor being comfortable enough overall with Lucifer to be willing to pretend to make out with him in public despite wanting to crawl out of his skin at the concept? iofhihisifoishuoisdh

How goddamn smooth Lucifer is when putting on a performance of seduction. He is THE Original Temptation and I love it. And him still being mindful of Alastor's comfort and not actually kissing him? AAAAAAAAA 1000% better than if he'd actually kissed him this gives me life. Beauty incarnate in words.

Lucifer finding Alastor's anxious-unxperienced-yet-smooth flirtation incredibly hot and then being startled by the thought despite, y'know, everything else that's happened. XD Can't blame him since the number of relationships he's had can be counted on one hand if not one finger, but he's so internally oblivious I cannot.

"Have you been doing this with other people?" Alastor actually being somehow surprised that this millennia-old, gorgeous, adorable eldritch being, known for THE first temptation into sin, fucks? Despite the blatant evidence in Charlie's existence? And being upset about it? And additionally feeling like he needs to know about Lucifer's sexual history for...reasons? Possessive much? XDDDD

And then being stunned silent at the suggestion and likely realization that he is, in fact, jealous, and probably still not knowing why? And Lucifer's oblivious teasing and then absolute confusion and awkwardness when Alastor DOESN'T DENY IT UGH had me kicking and screaming like a teenage girl.

And again, I'm hyper-sensitive to awkward so me being uncomfy isn't unexpected when Lucifer is by nature an awkward little bean. It can be a sign he's being written well! And your writing is so good that I keep coming back and I'm hoping I'm building up a tolerance. That would be good for me. ^^; I look forward to every Friday for this!

Anyway, hope you're having a marvelous day and you know your worth, that worth being AMAZING. okaybai

Aw were you worried? Thank you so much, I appreciate you clarifying your thoughts!

I love Emily, definitely want more of her! And THANK YOU, I have a million references to previous chapters - as I was trying to compile them into my Fun Facts section it just got too long so I couldn't include them all haha.

I'm a romantic so I want their first kiss to be really beautiful and meaningful!! Super thankful for your message. Very sweet of you 🥰