#if they leave him he turns back into a human a little later and is like ‘well this is embarrassing. . . BYEEEEEE’ and scampers off

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Please Let Me Live - Vil Schoenheit x reader

You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think? Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?

w.c: 10k

You'd avoided it for so long. For months, your best friend had been pestering you to read the shoujo isekai novel of the year. According to them, it was the epitome of romantic drama, the kind that would "turn your heart into a mess of feelings" and "change your life." So, finally, after a particularly grueling week, your willpower hit rock bottom. You caved. You bought it, poured yourself a drink, and figured, "How bad can it be?"

Turns out, really bad.

You’d barely made it past the first few chapters before your brain began to leak out of your ears. Every overused villainess plot point imaginable was crammed into the story like a contest of "how much nonsense can we fit in here before the reader gives up?" The evil fiancée everyone inexplicably hated? Check. The perfect cinnamon roll male lead everyone adored even though he had the personality of wet cardboard? Double check. The heroine who was so pure that even her sneeze would be enough to unite warring nations who also happens to be the saintess? You had to put the book down and take a moment when she gave a speech about friendship that was so saccharine, your teeth hurt.

Grumbling and filled with regret, you got up to refill your drink… only to slip on bubble wrap you swore yesterday that you were going to pick up later, fall face-first into the kitchen counter, and began to bleed out.

It was a comically stupid way to die. You knew that as you lay there, watching the light fade from your vision, your last thoughts being, This is the dumbest thing that’s ever happened to me.

And then, darkness.

You woke up with a groan, your head pounding. As your vision cleared, you noticed you were lying in a very, very fancy bed. Silk sheets, gold trimming on the canopy, the works. And you were dressed in something frilly, layered, and far too complicated for someone who just woke up from a near-death experience.

"What the…"

You sat up, rubbing your eyes, only to freeze as the realization hit you. This was not your bed. This was not your apartment. This was… Oh god, no.

You whipped your head around the lavish room, recognizing it from the novel you’d been hate-reading just last night. The massive mirror above the dresser, the tapestry with an overly detailed family crest, the obnoxiously large bouquet of roses that smelled way too sweet.

You’re in the book.

Panicking, you scrambled out of bed and rushed to the full-length mirror by the wall. The reflection staring back at you was not your own. Instead, you saw an unfamiliar face—her face. The one mentioned once, maybe twice, in the whole novel before being discarded like an old shoe: the betrothed of the villain.

The fiancée who dumps him for the male lead. The fiancée who gets themselves killed in the process.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned, slapping your forehead. “I’m the villain’s betrothed? I’m that idiot who leaves Vil Schoenheit because I fall for the human incarnation of a sugar cube?”

But there was no escaping it. You were now stuck in the body of a side character so irrelevant that even her death was treated as an afterthought. The one who leaves her handsome, ambitious, gorgeous fiancé for… Neige.

No. No, no, no. You were not about to die over a soggy cinnamon roll.

Determined to change your fate, you gathered your wits and opened the door to leave the room. But of course, you ran headlong into a tall figure, knocking you both back.

“Oof! Careful there!” a smooth, yet stern voice said. You looked up—and froze. Standing before you, looking like something straight out of a high-fashion magazine, was Vil Schoenheit. The man whose heart you were supposed to break, the villain who would later descend into madness after you ditch him.

And wow. In person, he was even more stunning than the novel had described. His golden-blond hair shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the window, his purple eyes were as sharp as they were beautiful, and his posture screamed confidence.

You blinked up at him, utterly dumbfounded. You’re supposed to leave him? For Neige? You nearly gagged at the thought.

Vil raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your wide-eyed staring. “Is something the matter?”

You gulped. Right. You were supposed to be cold and dismissive toward him, weren’t you? But how? This man looked like he could make the heavens weep with his beauty. How had your character ever even considered leaving him?

“No, nothing’s the matter!” you blurted out, a little too enthusiastically. “Actually, everything’s great! You look fantastic! I mean, not that you don’t always look fantastic—because you do—but, you know, extra fantastic today!”

Vil’s eyes narrowed. “You’re acting strange.”

Abort. Abort!

You quickly cleared your throat. “Uh, I’ve just been… thinking. About us.”

His gaze became sharper. “About us?”

You nodded, plastering on your most sincere smile. “Yes! I’ve realized… I haven’t been very, uh, appreciative of you lately. And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. So from now on, I’ll be the most appreciative fiancée ever!”

Vil looked at you as though you’d just told him the sun was cold. He clearly didn’t trust this sudden change in attitude. “What exactly brought this on?” he asked slowly, suspiciously.

Time for Plan B. “Oh, you know, just… reflection! Self-improvement! I thought, ‘Why would I ever look anywhere else when I’ve got someone like *you* right in front of me?’ You’re… amazing, really.” You cringed internally at how corny that sounded, but Vil didn’t seem entirely put off.

“Hm,” was all he said, but his piercing gaze stayed locked on you, watching for any sign of deceit.

You were sweating bullets, but at least he wasn’t storming off. Yet.

You knew from the moment you read the back cover that this novel was going to be a dumpster fire of clichés, but you were not prepared for the sheer chaos of it all.

So, first off, we have the heroine—the Saintess—who has somehow never faced a single hardship in her life, despite the fact that she’s supposed to be the kingdom’s beacon of virtue and a symbol of overcoming hardship. She’s engaged to the crown prince, who conveniently disappears on a diplomatic mission and dies offscreen, probably to make room for her new love interest, Neige LeBlanche. Neige. That sparkly ray of sunshine who is so perfect and pure that you feel like you need sunglasses whenever his name is mentioned. Because apparently, what’s more romantic than falling for a guy immediately after your fiancé kicks the bucket?

Then there’s the second male lead, the brooding Duke of the North, who checks all the boxes: tall, brooding, handsome, tragic backstory—yawn. Of course, he’s madly in love with the Saintess, and like any self-respecting second male lead in a trashy romance, he sacrifices himself for her later. Because nothing says “I’m irrelevant” quite like noble self-sacrifice.

And don't even get started on the heroine's best friend. She’s basically there to fawn over the Saintess and then inexplicably fall for Vil, the Grand Duke, after she pressures him into apologizing for insulting the heroine's dress. Like, why? Was his dress critique that alluring?

Now, Vil Schoenheit. The Grand Duke. The guy you’re currently stuck with as your fiancé. He’s actually a decent character—powerful, intelligent, not falling over himself to worship the Saintess like everyone else. But in the novel, he’s wasted. Why? Because he’s engaged to the character you’re now possessing—Miss Mean and Cold—who treats him like dirt because she’s too busy fantasizing about Neige. You know, the guy she has no shot with because he’s destined to fall for the Saintess. Then, when your character eventually dumps Vil for Neige, she dies in a freak accident. Vil, who actually loved her (for reasons no one understands), is so heartbroken that he turns into the main villain.

Yes, that’s right—this whole mess of a plot ends with Vil going full villain mode because the love of his life ditched him for the living embodiment of a children’s snowman and then died in a way that no one can explain. Cue the Saintess and Neige teaming up to defeat him and live happily ever after.

And that’s the story. A tangled web of nonsensical relationships, conveniently dead characters, and more emotional whiplash than you can handle. And the cherry on top? You're stuck in it, watching everything unfold firsthand. It's honestly a wonder the book didn’t end up as kindling.

A few days passed, and somehow, miraculously, you managed to keep up the act. Every morning you would wake up, still half-expecting to snap out of this bizarre isekai nightmare, but instead, you were met with Vil’s meticulous morning routine and the low hum of his voice offering helpful reminders about skincare.

And the more time you spent with him, the more baffled you became.

How the hell could the original character have messed this up?!

Sure, Vil was particular—okay, maybe borderline obsessive—about appearances. His lectures about proper sunscreen application could rival the length of the Odyssey. And yes, the daily inspections of your outfit choices felt a little like going through customs at a royal border.

But… he was kind? Like, actually caring?

Every meal was an event because he made sure you were eating properly and not just shoving random food into your mouth like the gremlin you clearly were before. He listened when you rambled about your day, offering advice with this gentle patience that honestly made you want to weep. How could anyone leave this?

You found yourself in front of a mirror one afternoon, pacing and gesturing wildly at your reflection, as if you could summon the spirit of the character you’d possessed. "What the actual hell was wrong with you?!" you hissed at the glass. “What kind of brain rot would make someone ditch a man like Vil?! Are you missing brain cells, or was your skull just a rental with nothing in it?!”

You paused, glaring at your reflection as if it could offer answers, but nope. It just stared back, helpless.

“Like, hello?!” you continued, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “You had a golden opportunity here! He’s literally gorgeous! He’s got hair that looks like it was hand-spun by some ancient beauty god, his fashion sense could kill a lesser mortal, and he—*gasp*—cares about your well-being?!”

You slapped your forehead dramatically. “How did you mess this up? Were you allergic to good things? Did you wake up every day and choose to be a feral raccoon instead of, I don’t know, appreciating this actual masterpiece of a human being? What, did you look at his perfect face and go, ‘Nah, I’d rather yeet myself into self-destruction?’ Because clearly, that’s what happened!”

Your reflection remained silent, offering no help, which only fueled your rant further.

“You absolute donut! You ridiculous bottle of poorly mixed potion! You—” You stopped mid-sentence, running out of sufficiently creative insults to throw at the former owner of this body. Because seriously, what kind of fool would’ve thrown Vil away?

You gripped the sides of the vanity table, leaning forward, narrowing your eyes at your own reflection. "If I find out that you gave up on this because he once asked you to wear a face mask or told you to drink more water… I swear, I'm going to find a way to repossess you just to kill you again for making me deal with this."

A soft knock at the door startled you out of your self-directed tirade. You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around to see Vil standing in the doorway, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Talking to yourself again?” he asked, his voice smooth but with a teasing edge. “You know, that’s usually a sign of stress. Perhaps we should revisit that meditation routine I mentioned.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, wondering how much he’d overheard. But then you caught sight of that soft smile he reserved just for you, and your brain short-circuited all over again.

Right. The original character was definitely an idiot.

The first major hurdle hit you when you least expected it.

It all started with what should have been a calm afternoon—a brief moment of peace where you and Vil could actually spend time together, no schemes, no weird confrontations, just enjoying tea. You were finally getting comfortable with each other, slowly building the trust that had been so fragile at the start. Finally, you thought, things were moving smoothly.

Then the overused villainess trope decided to rear its ugly head.

Vil was talking about an upcoming event he’d be hosting, his voice calm, his usual stern features softened just slightly by the moment of peace. You were finally letting your guard down.

That was until the door creaked open and in waltzed the heroine’s best friend, a girl with wide, doe-like eyes and a penchant for stirring up unnecessary drama. Behind her, looming in the doorway, was the second male lead—your eternal source of frustration from the novel. He was tall, brooding, and always, always popping up at the most inconvenient moments. A defeated looking Epel walked in behind them, with a look that screamed 'trust me I tried to stop them.'

“Oh no,” you whispered under your breath, recognizing this scene before it could even play out. You knew what was coming, and you braced yourself for the utter absurdity of it.

Vil’s sharp gaze flicked from the two intruders back to you, his brows furrowing in mild irritation. “What is it now?” he muttered, already sensing the impending nonsense.

The heroine’s friend, ever the bringer of chaos, marched right up to your table with a dramatic flair that could only come from someone who believed they were the only purveyor of justice. “I can’t stay quiet any longer!” she declared, pointing an accusatory finger in Vil’s direction. “Vil, how could you treat the heroine this way?! You’ve been so cold, so distant—and it’s clear that you don’t truly care for anyone but yourself!”

You blinked. Excuse me?

Vil’s lips pursed, the irritation growing on his face. “And what, pray tell, did I do?”

“You know what you did!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms like she’d just delivered the most damning statement in history. “You’ve been ignoring her, brushing her off, and acting like she doesn’t even exist. She’s heartbroken because of you!”

You groaned internally. Oh no, this was that scene. The one where, because Vil once made an offhand comment about the heroine’s poor choice in dresses at a ball, suddenly he was painted as some cruel villain who was emotionally tormenting the delicate heroine. It was such an incredibly stupid misunderstanding that you distinctly remembered wanting to throw the book across the room when you’d first read it.

To make matters worse, the second male lead, standing silently but brooding in the doorway, was glowering at Vil like he was ready to challenge him to a duel at any moment. Because of a comment about a dress.

“Are you serious?” you blurted out, the frustration bubbling up before you could stop yourself.

The heroine’s friend gasped, her eyes wide. “Excuse me?!”

“Let me get this straight,” you said, rising from your seat with a groan, “you’re upset because Vil, what, didn’t shower her with praise at the last event? And now you’ve decided to come in here, storming into our tea time, to complain about it?”

The second male lead’s brooding scowl deepened, his jaw tightening. “Vil has been cruel—”

“About a dress.” You cut him off, waving your hand dismissively. “Vil made one comment about her dress. That’s it. And now we’re doing this whole song and dance like he’s some kind of evil tyrant?”

The room was already tense, the heroine’s best friend visibly fuming, but you couldn’t help it. The words just came out before you could stop them.

“And while we’re at it,” you said, your voice dripping with mock innocence, “let’s talk about that dress. You know, the one you’re all so upset about. I mean, I’m no fashion expert, but who in their right mind thought wearing that shade of mustard-yellow was a good idea?”

The friend’s mouth fell open, but you weren’t finished. “I mean, she walked into the ballroom looking like a sad banana trying to go to a high society function. I get it—saintess and all that—but there’s no reason to dress like the interior of an overripe cantaloupe.”

Vil made a choking sound next to you, and you dared to glance at him. His eyes were wide with shock, but there was an unmistakable glint of amusement. Oh, he wasn’t pleased with the crudeness, but he definitely wasn’t going to stop you either.

“And you,” you said, turning to the second male lead, who had been standing there like a silent, brooding statue, just staring at the two of you menacingly. “What’s your excuse? You came in here with all this brooding energy, acting like you’re about to duel someone over the fate of the heroine. But seriously, what’s with your whole tragic hero act? Is your personality just permanent raincloud or do you practice that in the mirror?”

Vil covered his mouth with his hand, and you could see his shoulders shaking slightly. He was losing the battle to keep his composure, but he was trying—for dignity’s sake, of course.

Epel, on the other hand, had completely given up. The moment you’d said “sad banana,” he had fallen off his chair, doubled over in laughter, his face red as he clutched his sides. You weren’t sure if it was your insults or the second male lead’s thunderstruck expression, but either way, Epel was in hysterics.

“I—” the heroine’s friend sputtered, but you interrupted her again.

“Oh, and you.” You looked her up and down with a condescending smirk. “You really want to talk about fashion? Because I don’t know who told you that wearing ruffles with plaid was a look, but they were wrong. You’re out here looking like you got lost in a fabric store and fell into the clearance bin.”

This time, Vil snorted. Actually snorted. The sound was so out of place that it almost derailed your tirade, but you powered through, buoyed by his reaction.

The second male lead looked like he was ready to explode, his aura now bordering on murderous. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, can’t I?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Because it seems like all of you came in here with the intent to stir up drama over something as trivial as a constructive remark. If you’re going to go to war over fashion, at least wear something that doesn’t look like you picked it out with your eyes closed. Scratch that, I couldn’t imagine picking that up even with my eyes closed.”

By now, Epel was rolling on the floor, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “C-couldn’t pick it out… with your eyes closed!” he wheezed, slapping his knee.

Vil, despite himself, let out a low giggle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well,” he said, his voice steady but filled with mirth, “I suppose subtlety was never your strong suit.”

The heroine’s friend, now red-faced and flustered beyond belief, grabbed the second male lead by the arm and yanked him toward the door. “This isn’t over,” she spat, glaring at you. “We’ll see who’s laughing when the heroine—”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved dismissively, “when the heroine what? Realizes she’s been pining for someone who can't tell mustard from elegance? Trust me, I’m not worried.”

With that, they both stormed out, slamming the door behind them in a huff of embarrassment and frustration. The second they were gone, you let out a breath and sank back into your chair, grinning at Vil, who was now openly smiling.

“You really didn’t hold back, did you?” Vil said, his amusement evident despite his usual calm demeanor. “I don’t approve of such… crude insults, but I must admit—” his lips twitched— “it was rather effective.”

Epel, still recovering from his laughing fit, managed to haul himself back into his seat, wiping tears from his eyes. “That was… that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said between gasps for air. “I can’t believe ya said that right to their faces!”

“Glad to be of service,” you said with a grin, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d actually said all of that out loud. But judging by Vil’s pleased expression and Epel’s ongoing laughter, it had been worth it.

Maybe surviving this trash novel wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You’d barely had time to process how bizarrely normal your life as the villain’s fiancée had become when the next absurd isekai plot point decided to rear its ugly, trope-filled head again.

It all started at yet another lavish tea party. Honestly, you’d begun to lose track of how many of these events you were forced to attend. They all blurred together into a haze of polite smiles, floral patterns, and far too much sugar.

This time, you were seated next to Vil, who, as always, looked like he had just stepped out of a renaissance painting. You, on the other hand, were trying not to spill tea on the new dress he’d insisted you wear. The dress itself was lovely, of course—Vil had impeccable taste—but the whole setting made you feel like you were constantly walking on eggshells. Especially since she was here. The heroine.

Today, though, you were determined to get through it without any drama. Just smile, nod, and let the heroine do her thing. Easy, right?

Wrong.

Everything had been going smoothly, too. The heroine, in all her sunshiney glory, was seated at the table, surrounded by her usual group of admirers. You had been doing a great job of fading into the background until someone—the hostess, perhaps?—brought up your previous adventures.

“Oh, didn’t you once accompany the Grand Duke to deal with that bandit problem on the eastern border?” the hostess asked, fanning herself with interest. “What a thrilling ordeal!”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the weight of too many eyes on you. “Well, I wouldn’t say thrilling exactly…” you began, trying to downplay it, but your nerves had other ideas. “I mean, the heroine here was probably off rescuing some poor lost puppy while I was just, you know, holding down the real danger.”

The air went cold.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. The table fell silent, save for the quiet clinking of teacups being set down. Every eye was on you. The heroine’s wide, eyes blinked at you, full of hurt and confusion. And across from you, the second male lead—Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding—looked like he was ready to leap across the table and strangle you on the spot.

Oh no. Oh no no no. Why did you leave your filter at home?

You opened your mouth to apologize, but before you could, the second male lead slammed his cup down on the table, the porcelain rattling ominously. “You dare insult her honor?!” he roared, rising from his seat like some kind of vengeful storm cloud. “I will not stand for this!”

*Why did I say that?* You cringed internally, face turning a bright shade of crimson. "I-it was a joke—"

“No,” he declared dramatically, pointing a finger at you. “I demand satisfaction! A duel for her honor!”

You were still too stunned to respond, your brain scrambling to make sense of the situation. A duel? Over this? All you’d implied was that the heroine wasn’t exactly… battle-hardened. Surely that wasn’t duel-worthy? This man was acting like you’d called his mother a turnip or something worse.

The heroine, ever the epitome of grace, tried to intervene. “There’s no need for—”

But Mr. Broody wasn’t having it. “No! Her honor has been besmirched, and I shall defend it with my life!”

Vil, who had been watching this spectacle unfold with an expression of mild disgust, finally rose from his chair. His cool gaze swept over the table, landing on the second male lead with all the intensity of a snake about to strike.

“If anyone’s honor has been besmirched,” Vil said icily, “it’s mine. And I will not allow my betrothed to be disrespected by the likes of you.”

You blinked up at Vil, stunned. “Wait, you’re going to duel him? Yourself?”

Vil turned his piercing gaze to you, and though his face remained calm, there was a glimmer of something softer in his eyes. “Of course,” he said. “I would never entrust such a matter to anyone else. Besides…” His lips curled into a smirk. “It’s been a while since I’ve put an upstart in his place.”

You gulped, suddenly feeling a bit light-headed. Was it getting hot in here?

The second male lead, apparently unaware of just how screwed he was, smirked triumphantly. “Very well! Let’s settle this once and for all.”

The duel was set for the next day in your estate gardens. You spent the time leading up to it pacing back and forth in your chambers, wringing your hands in nervous anticipation. Somewhere along the way, you’d decided that you needed to do something—anything—to support Vil. So you had spent hours learning how to embroider a handkerchief, your fingers aching from the effort. By the time you finished, you were practically shaking, but you were proud of the result.

You didn’t expect Vil to be touched, let alone notice that you’d worked so hard. But when you handed him the handkerchief just before the duel, his eyes widened in surprise.

“You made this?” he asked, holding it delicately between his fingers, as if it were some priceless artifact.

You nodded sheepishly. “I figured, you know, for luck. Or to rub it in his face after you beat him. Whichever.”

Vil chuckled, his usually sharp expression softening. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low. He then noticed the small needle marks on your hands and frowned. “You hurt yourself.”

You quickly hid your hands behind your back. “It’s nothing! I mean, I’m fine. Just a few pricks here and there.”

Vil’s expression softened even further, and for a moment, he looked almost… touched. He carefully tucked the handkerchief into his coat pocket, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll be sure to put this to good use.”

You didn’t swoon. Well, maybe just a little.

The duel was, in a word, ridiculous.

The second male lead strutted around like a peacock, his sword gleaming in the afternoon sunlight as he swung it dramatically for the small crowd that had gathered. “Prepare yourself, Schoenheit!” he bellowed, pointing his sword at Vil.

Vil, on the other hand, looked utterly unimpressed. He barely glanced at the man before calmly removing his coat and handing it to you. “Hold this, will you?”

You took the coat with a nod, trying not to pass out from how effortlessly graceful he looked even in the midst of preparing for a fight.

The second male lead lunged forward with all the finesse of a drunken ox, his sword clashing loudly against Vil’s. For a moment, it looked like a real duel—until Vil, with a single fluid motion, disarmed the man in one clean strike. The second male lead’s sword went flying, landing in the bushes several feet away with a pathetic thud.

The crowd gasped, and you had to stifle a laugh. It had barely been five seconds, and the duel was already over.

The second male lead stood there, stunned, his hand frozen mid-air where his sword had been. He blinked once, twice, then turned bright red with embarrassment. “W-what?!”

Vil, ever composed, didn’t even break a sweat. He sheathed his sword and gave the man a cold, dismissive look. “This duel is over. Consider your demand for satisfaction... fulfilled. Now, kindly leave before you embarrass yourself further.”

You bit your lip, trying not to giggle as the second male lead sputtered and tried to come up with an excuse, but it was clear to everyone that he had been utterly humiliated. Even the heroine, standing off to the side, looked like she was struggling to keep a straight face.

As the second male lead stumbled off, defeated, Vil turned to you and offered his hand. “Shall we go?”

You took his hand, still trying to process how easily he had won. “You were amazing,” you blurted out, your heart fluttering as you gazed up at him. “Seriously, that was… wow.”

Vil smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Of course I was.” He then leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And I expect a proper reward later for defending your honor.”

Your face went beet red, and you were pretty sure you’d forgotten how to breathe.

Yep, you thought as he led you away, his hand still in yours, surviving this trash novel might not be so bad after all.

It happened at one of those overly extravagant banquets the royal court liked to throw. You spotted Neige from across the room, all bright eyes and an innocent smile. He was the epitome of purity, as if his very presence could summon woodland creatures to frolic at his feet.

And you hated him on sight.

You watched in disbelief as everyone around him melted into puddles of admiration. He was practically glowing, and his overly cheerful, squeaky voice was grating on your ears.

The overly saccharine male lead stood there, looking like a cross between a baby bunny and a sentient cupcake. Everything about him screamed "pure-hearted." You nearly gagged on your drink, hoping no one noticed your grimace.

Vil noticed your sour expression and leaned in. “Is something the matter?”

“That’s him, isn’t it?” you said through clenched teeth. “The one I used to follow around?”

Vil followed your gaze, and for a moment, his lips twitched in the faintest show of amusement. “Yes. That’s Neige.”

You snorted. "I can't believe anyone in their right mind would prefer him over you."

Vil's lips curled into a smirk, and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh? Is that so?” His voice was silky, dangerously low, but you could see the flash of satisfaction behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” you muttered, still glaring in Neige's direction. “I mean, look at him. He’s so… good. And not in a ‘wow, what a decent person’ way. It’s like he’s one bad haircut away from sprouting fairy wings and breaking into song.”

Vil let out a low chuckle, right next to you ear, (Lord, have mercy) the sound sending shivers down your spine. “I never thought I’d hear you speak this way about him. You’ve been fawning over Neige for as long as I can remember.”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up. “That was the old me. The dumb me. I mean, have you seen you?” You gestured dramatically toward him. “How could anyone even look at Neige when you exist?”

Vil was quiet for a moment, watching you intently. His violet eyes glinted with something unreadable, but you could tell he was pleased. Oh, he was very pleased.

“You certainly have changed,” he murmured, the smirk never leaving his lips. “And I must admit, I find it rather… delightful.”

Before you could respond, a very familiar voice rang out from behind you. “Ah! What a beautiful reunion this is! A moment filled with l’amour, sparkling like the stars in the sky!”

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Rook Hunt appeared seemingly out of thin air, his hands dramatically clasped together as he beamed at you both. “I have seen many couples in my lifetime, but none quite so radiant as you two.”

You blinked, trying to recover from his sudden appearance. “Rook… were you just… hiding in the curtains again?”

Rook, ever the dramatist, placed a hand on his heart and smiled wistfully. “Ah, but how could I stay away when the beauty of your love draws me in like a moth to a flame?”

Vil raised an eyebrow. “Rook, you’re not helping.”

“Non, non, mon ami,” Rook insisted, twirling in place with a flourish. “I am merely basking in the glow of what is surely a love for the ages! The way your eyes meet, the subtle tension in the air—it is magnifique!”

You sighed, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help but chuckle at Rook’s antics. Meanwhile, from the other side of the ballroom, Epel was watching the scene unfold with barely concealed amusement. He caught your eye and shot you a grin, raising his glass as if to say, Good luck with this.

But the fun wasn’t over. Oh no. Neige, the human embodiment of a children’s choir, started making his way toward you. As he approached, his bright eyes locked on yours, his smile so innocent and wide that you almost felt bad for what you were about to do.

Almost.

“Good evening!” Neige greeted you, his voice as sweet as sugar. “I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to properly meet.”

You stared at him for a moment, unimpressed. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

Neige blinked, clearly taken aback by your lack of enthusiasm. He probably wasn’t used to people not immediately falling at his feet. “It’s truly wonderful to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”

You squinted at him. “Mm-hmm.”

Vil, standing beside you, looked positively elated. You could practically feel the smug energy radiating off of him. He wasn’t even hiding his smile anymore.

Neige continued, oblivious to your complete disinterest. “I’m so glad we’ll have the chance to spend time together in the coming months! I hope we can—”

“Yeah, no, I’m good,” you interrupted, turning away and pointedly ignoring his very existence.

Neige blinked again, looking like a lost puppy. You almost felt a little bad. Almost.

Vil, on the other hand, looked like Christmas had come early. His arm slipped around your waist, his touch gentle. “I must say,” he murmured into your ear, his voice laced with amusement, “I’ve never enjoyed one of these balls quite so much.”

Yup, maybe this novel isn't that trashy after all?

Everytime you think this novel might not be that bad, it manages to prove you wrong.

The day had finally arrived: the Founding Day Ball. The event to end all events, where the kingdom’s most distinguished were honored in a grand ceremony. And, of course, at the top of the list of honorees was Vil, who might as well have been carved into the actual history of the kingdom itself with how perfect he was.

As his partner for the evening, you were dressed to the nines, dripping in elegance you didn’t even know you were capable of. When you caught your reflection in one of the massive ballroom mirrors, you had to do a double-take.

"Who is that?" you whispered, eyes wide. "Oh. It’s me."

Honestly, if there was a chance of impressing anyone here, you were impressed with yourself.

The ceremony went as expected. Vil was awarded the highest honors, his name met with thunderous applause as he gave a speech that left the crowd swooning. You found yourself half-clapping, half-gawking, wondering how this man kept getting more perfect. Like, was he actually human?

But as the evening progressed, the dreaded scene you despised the most crept into the evening, like a bad smell at a gourmet dinner.

After the ceremony, it was time for the opening dance. Naturally, Vil, being the epitome of grace and nobility, was the prime candidate to lead it. You were fully expecting him to ask you, but before he could even turn in your direction, the heroine — yes, that heroine — appeared out of nowhere, like she was materializing straight from the pages of the worst romance novel ever written.

“Vil,” she said in a voice that sounded like honey and broken promises, “I trust you’ll grant me the honor of the first dance.”

You blinked. *Excuse me?*

She said it so confidently, as if it were a foregone conclusion, like she was used to the world revolving around her whims. It was the equivalent of someone just cutting the line in front of you at the store and expecting applause for their audacity.

Vil, for his part, didn’t even flinch. His expression was as cool and elegant as ever, but you could see a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“I’m afraid,” he said, voice smooth and polite, “I already have a partner for the first dance.”

The heroine’s face froze in a way that almost made you choke on your own breath. “W-What?” She blinked rapidly, as if her brain couldn’t process the fact that someone had just told her no.

You, too, were a little stunned, for a seperate. Was she actually planning on throwing a tantrum right now? In public? At a literal state function?

“B-But you always dance with me,” she stammered, voice rising in disbelief, her face turning an alarming shade of pink. “I’m supposed to be your first dance!”

You physically had to stop yourself from snorting. Always? He has never even looked at her for longer than five seconds! You couldn't recall a single time Vil had given her anything beyond basic pleasantries. The only reason she’d be in his line of sight was because she was constantly putting herself there.

Vil’s lips twitched slightly, though whether it was out of irritation or amusement, you couldn’t tell. “I don’t recall ever dancing with you,” he said calmly, as though she were discussing someone else entirely.

The heroine blinked, clearly taken aback. “W-What?”

Vil’s voice dropped to an even icier tone, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “In fact, I dislike the very idea of it.”

The heroine made a strangled sound behind you, like a baby bird trying to scream.

You looked around the room, half-expecting hidden cameras to pop out, because this had to be a prank. Who acts like this?!

And as you floated onto the dance floor with Vil, you couldn’t help but marvel at the absolute insufferable nature of the scene you’d just witnessed. This was, without a doubt, the moment that solidified your hatred for the trash-tier novel world you’d been trapped in. People like her actually existed here?

Behind you, the heroine stomped her foot like a petulant child, completely ignored by the crowd. It would’ve been almost sad if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

And as you twirled under the chandeliers, feeling Vil’s warmth beside you and the heroine’s tantrum echoing faintly in the background, one thing became crystal clear:

This novel may have been trash, but at least you were the one dancing with the prince of perfection.

It hit you like a ton of bricks one day—completely out of nowhere. You had been sitting in Vil’s study, watching him work. He was meticulously going over some documents, his brow furrowed in concentration, his golden hair falling perfectly in place despite him having been there for hours. You were supposed to be reading through some kingdom protocol book, but instead, your gaze kept drifting over to him.

He’s so… beautiful.

You blinked, the thought suddenly snapping you out of whatever trance you’d fallen into.

Wait…

Your eyes widened. Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

You slammed the book shut, startling Vil from his work as you stood up abruptly. “I-I need some air.”

Vil raised an elegant eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden panic. “Something the matter?”

“No! Nothing’s the matter!” you said, far too quickly, your voice an octave higher than usual. You stumbled over your chair in your haste to get out of the room, nearly tripping on your own feet. “I just—need to—um—fresh air, yes, exactly!”

Before Vil could say anything else, you bolted from the study and down the hall, your heart racing as though you’d just run a marathon. You darted into the nearest empty room and pressed your back against the door, your mind swirling with confusion.

Am I falling for him?

You slapped a hand over your mouth, horrified by the realization. “No… no, this isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I’m in love with a character from this awful, brain-numbing novel?”

You slumped against the door, groaning as the full weight of the situation sank in. How could this happen? How could my first true love— you gagged at the phrase —be from this trash novel?

There was no escaping it now. The butterflies in your stomach every time Vil looked your way, the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled, the fact that you wanted nothing more than to be close to him… it was all painfully obvious.

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die of embarrassment in this ridiculous world.”

And the worst part? It wasn’t even one of the good isekai novels. You’d somehow gotten stuck in what could be considered objectively the worst one, and yet here you were, head over heels for a character who—against all odds—turned out to be the most amazing person you’d ever met.

“Oh god,” you muttered to yourself, sliding down to the floor, your head falling back against the door with a thud. “I'm in love with Vil. I’m doomed. Completely doomed.”

“Mon Dieu! What a revelation!” a voice suddenly rang out from the shadows.

You yelped, whipping around to see none other than Rook Hunt—perched in the corner of the room like some kind of overly dramatic bird of prey, his hat casting a mysterious shadow over his eyes. His entire being radiated excitement, and you swore you saw actual sparkles in the air around him.

“Rook?! How long have you been there?!”

“Long enough, my dear,” he said, voice hushed with reverence, as though you had just confessed your deepest, most tragic secret. “Ah, love! The torment, the longing! The exquisite despair you must be feeling!” He took a step forward, eyes gleaming with unbridled enthusiasm. “But fear not, mon ami, for I, Rook Hunt, shall be your faithful cupid! Together, we shall make Vil see the truth of your affections!”

You blinked, stunned. “Uh… I’m not sure that’s—"

“Ah, but you must!" Rook declared, swooping down to kneel dramatically before you. “Love, once realized, must be pursued with all one’s passion and determination! Do not let this opportunity slip through your fingers like sand in the wind! I shall assist you!”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the sheer intensity of his expression made you falter. Rook was looking at you like this was the most important mission of his life.

Honestly, what did you have to lose at this point?

With a deep, exhausted sigh, you muttered, “Fine. Fine! I’ll do it. Help me, Rook.”

Rook’s grin stretched so wide it was borderline terrifying. “Excellent! This will be an adventure for the ages!” Before you could even process what you’d agreed to, Rook leaped to his feet and clapped his hands together. “But we will need more help. A certain someone with a youthful spirit and just enough mischievousness to add that je ne sais quoi to our plans.”

Oh no.

Cue Epel.

“What the hell are you ropin’ me into?” Epel grumbled as Rook dragged him into your predicament not five minutes later.

“I have volunteered you for a most noble cause, mon petit pomme,” Rook said, not even breaking stride as he swept Epel into the room. “Our dear friend here is head over heels for our Vil, and we are going to help them win his heart”

Epel paused, blinking at you in disbelief. “Wait, Vil? That Vil?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of where Vil’s office was.

“Yes, that Vil,” you said flatly, already regretting every life decision that had led you to this point.

Epel gave you a dubious look. “And you agreed to let Rook help you?”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Don’t remind me.”

“Alright, fine. I’m in.” Epel shrugged, a wicked grin creeping onto his face. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it big.”

Thus began the most absurd, over-the-top, and borderline catastrophic schemes in an attempt to prove your love to Vil Schoenheit.

It started innocently enough. You wanted to make Vil his favorite tea. Simple, right? But Rook insisted that it couldn’t just be any tea. No, it had to be presented with an air of mystery and allure.

“Bring it to him while reciting a sonnet of devotion!” Rook suggested. “Declare your admiration with each step, so that he understands the depth of your feelings!”

“I’m not reciting a sonnet, Rook.”

Epel, on the other hand, was far more pragmatic. “Or you could just… write him a note and leave it with the tea?”

That seemed normal. Rational. You’d take Epel’s advice. So, you snuck into Vil’s room, left the tea and a note on his desk, and slipped out before anyone noticed.

The next morning, Vil eyed you suspiciously over breakfast. “Did you leave tea in my study last night?”

You nodded, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Vil’s eyes narrowed, but you swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch into the faintest smile. “I see. How thoughtful.”

Then came Operation: Compliment Vil at Every Opportunity.

Rook, of course, insisted you be poetic. “Tell him his beauty rivals the very stars in the sky!”

“I’m not saying that.”

Epel chimed in with a much more straightforward approach: “Just tell him his hair looks nice. It’s always nice.”

But Rook’s enthusiasm was contagious, and before you knew it, you found yourself blurting out, “Your radiance is blinding today, Vil! Truly, I must shield my eyes from such ethereal beauty!”

Vil, who had been in the middle of inspecting his reflection, froze. His eyes darted to you, and he gave you a strange look.

“Are you… feeling alright? Did you perhaps get bitten by a stray Rook?”

You shook your head vigorously, your face heating up from how ridiculous you sounded. “Totally fine! Just… appreciating your beauty! Yep. Normal stuff.”

Vil didn’t say anything, but you could see a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. He looked amused—and maybe a little pleased—but more than anything, he seemed confused.

At least he didn’t think you’d lost your mind. Yet.

You were convinced this novel had it out for you from the beginning, but this? This was a new low. The memory loss trope, the final attempt to make your life as ridiculous as possible, had arrived—right on schedule.

You knew how it was supposed to go. You’d hit your head (a complete accident, obviously), wake up with no memory of Vil, and immediately make the worst decisions possible, like falling for that knockoff prince, Neige. Cue dramatic heartbreak, public humiliation, and eventual abandonment. Classic trashy novel shenanigans.

But apparently, the universe—or whatever cosmic force was in charge of your suffering—had decided to take a vacation after all the work it had been putting in. Because when you opened your eyes and saw Vil leaning over you, worry etched into his perfect face, instead of forgetting him, you were… immediately smitten?

What?

And it didn’t stop there. When he took your hand in his, gently kissing your knuckles in that heartbreakingly tender way, it was like a light switch flipped. Your memories came rushing back, completely bypassing the whole convoluted plot about amnesia and bad decisions.

Because of course in this disaster of a novel, the solution to everything was true love's kiss. The most overdone, eye-rolling cliché in the history of romance, and yet here you were, living through it.

You almost laughed out loud. Of all the tropes this novel had thrown at you—evil fiancées, jealous heroines, duels for honor—this had to be the funniest. It was as if the universe had taken one look at your situation and said, “You know what? Let’s skip the suffering and go straight to the ridiculous happy ending.”

True love’s kiss. Really. This novel is mocking me at this point, you thought, fighting the urge to scream. But hey, at least you didn’t have to deal with more drama. And as Vil’s concerned gaze softened into a relieved smile, you couldn’t help but think that, maybe, this was one trope you didn’t mind after all.

You'd almost given up on confessing. Maybe you'll just live like this forever, your fate was sealed. The novel clearly doesn't want you to tell him how you feel.

But there was another ball (because apparently that's the only place that nobility had be at in this novel. What was this? the 108th ball of the year?) You'd decided that you'll ask him for a stroll under the moonlight and just tell him.

Of course, the novel is not on your side. What's new?

The ball was going well—well, for you and Vil, anyway. You’d just finished dancing, and he looked absolutely stunning, as usual. You were basking in the afterglow of all the whispered praise and envious stares. That is, until you overheard someone bad-mouthing Vil.

Of course, it had to be the heroine’s best friend, who was apparently using this grand occasion to air her grievances.

“I just don’t understand why Vil is always so cold to her,” she whined, loud enough for everyone within a three-mile radius to hear. “She’s the saintess! She deserves kindness and adoration, not disdain.”

Cue the dramatic gasps from the crowd. Ah, here we go.

You shot Vil a look, but he merely shrugged, rolling his eyes. He clearly didn’t want to start any trouble. But you? Oh, you were about to flip the table on these idiots.

“Excuse me,” you began, stepping forward, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as you made your way over. “I couldn’t help but overhear your incredibly loud complaints about my fiancé.”

The heroine’s best friend froze, clearly not expecting you to get involved. You smiled sweetly, but your eyes were throwing daggers.

“Let me set the record straight. Vil isn’t cold to her because she’s the ‘saintess,’” you air-quoted the title, “He’s cold to her because she’s an insufferable brat who’s so used to getting her way that she throws a tantrum every time someone says ‘no.’”

More gasps from the crowd. You could see Neige stiffening across the ballroom, already sensing where this was going. But there was no stopping you now.

“And don’t get me started on you,” you pointed at the best friend, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re out here defending her honor like you’re some knight in shining armor when, let’s be real, you’re just as bad. You fawn over her like a lost puppy, expecting her to shower you with praise when all you do is enable her delusions.”

Vil, somewhere behind you, was probably trying not to laugh. But you weren't done.

“And as for your precious Neige over there?” you tilted your head toward the prince-wannabe, who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. “He’s not some perfect angel either. He’s just a guy with an unsettling talent for showing up at the most convenient times, with that same doe-eyed, clueless expression, making everyone feel sorry for him.”

You didn’t stop at Neige.

"And as for you," you said, spinning toward the brooding Duke of the North, the infamous second male lead, who had been leaning against a pillar, looking every bit the tall, tormented, handsome cliché. “You’re not fooling anyone either. You’re the king of melodramatic entrances. Always lurking in the shadows, trying to look mysterious, but really, you’re just sulking because no one’s paying attention to you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—are you brooding? Again? Let me guess, you’re thinking about some dark secret that you’ll drop at the most inconvenient moment to make things worse for everyone, right?” You mimicked his deep, serious voice. “‘It’s the burden I must bear… alone.’” You threw your head back in mock agony, hands dramatically placed on your chest.

He straightened up, clearly offended, but you didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“And stop pretending like you’re some tragic hero,” you added, lowering your voice with a sharp edge. “You’re just a guy with commitment issues who sacrifices himself because you can’t handle the fact that the heroine doesn’t want you. Let it go.”

There was dead silence. You half-expected a chandelier to drop just for the dramatic effect. Even Vil had to look away for a moment, probably to hide the fact that he in tears, about to burst out laughing.

The heroine was slack-jawed, her best friend looked like she wanted to melt into the floor, and Neige… well, Neige just looked confused. As always.

Satisfied, you dusted off your hands and turned back to Vil, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and awe, as if he’d just witnessed some divine intervention.

You let out a satisfied huff and turned to leave. "Come on, Vil, I can't stand to be in the same room as these second-rate characters any longer, let's bounce"

Once outside, you saw Vil was still recovering, a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think you may have traumatized half the ballroom.”

“Good,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “They deserved it. Especially that brooding Duke. ‘I sacrifice myself for the greater good.’ Ugh, give me a break.”

Vil chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist. "Still, you didn’t have to go to such lengths for me."

You stopped in your tracks, spun around, and looked him dead in the eye. “Of course I did! I love you, Vil. I couldn’t just sit there and let them trash you like that.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. Oh. Well. There it was.

Vil’s eyes widened, a rare, unguarded expression crossing his face. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in your words. Then, without a word, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, soft but sure, like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had.

When he pulled back, his smile was the softest you’d ever seen. “You love me,” he repeated, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, a bit breathless from both the confession and the kiss. “Yes, Vil. I love you. Even with all your ridiculously high standards and obsession with skincare.”

Vil laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Vil pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your waist, and asked with a quiet, almost teasing tone, "Well then, since you love me so much... should we get married?"

You blinked, your brain taking a second to catch up. "Wait—what? Married? Like, right now?" You stared at him, heart racing, before suddenly, an idea lit up your face like a firework. “Oh my god, yes! Let’s do it. Let’s get married ASAP. Like, today. Right now. Do we even need a ceremony? We can find an officiant and—boom—done. Just tell me where to sign!”

Vil’s eyes widened, taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm. “Are you… serious?”

You grabbed his hand, absolutely buzzing with energy. “Of course, I’m serious! Why wait? This dumbass universe keeps throwing garbage tropes at us, and honestly? Getting married right now is the perfect way to flip the script! Take that, fate!"

Before Vil could respond, an overly excited voice erupted from behind a nearby pillar. “Oh là là! Mon cœur can hardly handle this romance!” Rook leaped out from the shadows, practically sparkling with joy, as if he had been waiting for this very moment all his life. "The passion! The declaration of love! And now, a spontaneous wedding? Magnifique!”

“Rook!?” Vil’s voice was a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Have you been spying on us?”

“Spying?” Rook gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Non, non, Vil! I was merely ensuring your well-being as any devoted friend would!” He gave a wink, clearly pleased with his role as an unintended audience.

“Me too!” Epel poked his head out from behind another pillar, grinning sheepishly. “I mean, who’d wanna miss out on somethin’ like this? Y’all are gettin’ married!”

Vil let out a long, tired sigh, but you could see the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he muttered.

“Oh, it’s happening,” you said, grabbing his arm again and dragging him forward. “We’re doing this, and it’s going to be the best wedding in this entire stupid book, Rook, Epel, you’re both invited. Wait, scratch that, you’re both in the wedding party now!”

“C’est incroyable!” Rook twirled dramatically, hands clasped together, already imagining his outfit for the occasion. “I shall be the most loyal and stylish groomsman! Oh, l’amour!”

“And I get to wear somethin’ fancy, right?” Epel asked, already envisioning something much cooler than his usual attire.

Vil was now fully grinning, his initial surprise turning into genuine amusement as he looked at you with sparkling eyes. “You really are something else.”

“Yeah, and now I’m gonna be your something else forever.” You beamed up at him, still holding onto his hand like you might drag him to the altar yourself right now.

“Well then,” Vil sighed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Let’s get married.”

Before you could even start plotting where to drag Vil to find someone to officiate, Rook suddenly gasped, clasping his hands together dramatically. "Mon dieu! How could I forget? I am more than prepared for this moment!"

You and Vil exchanged puzzled looks. "What are you talking about, Rook?" Vil asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Rook grinned, remviong his hat and and dramatically pulling out a folded piece of parchment. "Behold!" he announced, waving the paper with a flourish. "A certified license to officiate weddings. I took the liberty of acquiring it long ago, knowing that one day I’d be the one to unite you and your beloved. C’est le destin!"

“You’re… licensed?” Vil blinked, looking at Rook like he had officially lost it. "And you're walking around with the license in your hat?"

Rook nodded with a dazzling smile. “Why yes, I’ve been preparing for this glorious day! Every flower petal, every gust of wind, every glance of love I’ve witnessed between you both has been leading to this fated moment!” He struck a pose, the parchment still dramatically held aloft.

You stared at him, then back at Vil. "Okay, I know this is ridiculous, but honestly? This is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, and I kind of love it. Let's just let him do it."

Vil put a hand to his forehead, trying to suppress a chuckle. "Are we really doing this?"

“Yes!” you declared, squeezing Vil's hand. “If we’re going full chaos, we’re going all the way. Rook, officiate the hell out of this wedding!”

Epel, watching the entire spectacle, burst into laughter. “Only in this house, I swear…”

Rook practically sparkled with joy, bouncing on his feet. “Oh là là, it will be my greatest honor! I’ve been rehearsing my officiating speech in front of the mirror for months”

“Months?” Vil repeated, a mix of disbelief and exasperation in his tone.

“Mais oui! Every day, I’d wake up and say, ‘Today could be the day!’” Rook sighed dramatically, already tearing up. “And here we are. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Now, shall we begin? I have the vows prepared, unless you have your own?”

You leaned into Vil, barely holding back laughter. “I have zero regrets about this. Absolutely zero.”

Vil sighed again but couldn’t stop smiling. “Only you could make something this absurd seem perfect.”

Masterlist

Okay, this became way longer than I expected it to be but to be fair, i was on an extreme caffeine high and i'd just finished an assignment that had been beating my ass

[nikki152006]

since we were kids | Bakugou X Reader

oneshot; (goes from angst -> fluff)

And there goes yet another day of Bakugou bullying Midoriya, your childhood friend. Of course Bakugou is your childhood friend too, but you sort of snapped it off with him when he started being the devil to Midoriya.

"You don't need to step in, (Name)-chan." Midoriya tells you, "I'll handle it. Kacchan's not that harsh... "

"What, do you need him to kill you for you to understant?" it hurts you to see Bakugou behave this way- the boy who once gloated to you about having a great quirk and being the strongest was now using it to hurt others.

"I need to buy a new notebook." Midoriya stops walking, "It won't take me long. Why don't you go ahead, I'll catch up later. I'll get a warm up run that way too."

You agree and Midoriya hurries off towards the closest stationary.

"Tch, how do I get into U.A. if I get caught doing this shit." an all too familiar voice sounds approaching towards the exit of an alleyway to the side.

Immediately, a frown settles on your face. 

It's been long since you've had a personal talk with Bakugou- you stopped communicating with him ever since he started being a bitch because it broke your heart to see him that way.

Remembering the old days only makes it worse because all that you've felt for him ever since the beginning doesn't seem to fade off- you're hurt by Bakugou's behaviour, yes, but you can't hate him.

But just for Izukkun's sake-

You've made your mind to confront him today.

After all, him telling Midoriya to jump off the roof was crossing the line.

Without another second of allowing worry or doubt to fill your brain, you hurry into the alleyway to come face to face with the ash-blond boy and his two lackeys following behind.

"Bakugou-san." you've been addressing him formally and crudely since a little while now.

"Whoa whoa," the lackeys behind Bakugou who were once your friends too now narrow their eyes in disgust, "looks like someone left her little frail bunny for a while."

"Tsubasa-san." your lips press, "What a pleasant way to initiate conversation after years. How mannered you were back when you were a kid, I wonder where that little boy went." your eyes roll over to Bakugou last second.

After all, your words are just as genuinely meant for him too.

"Let's talk, Bakugou-san."

He tilts his head, eyes dangerously focused into yours. Bakugou walks all the way up to you and towers you to intimidate you and although there's a part of you which somewhat fears what he's become, you know he wouldn't actually hurt you.

All these years of you stepping in when he bullies Midoriya and he's never once caused a scratch on you, though the same can't be said for Midoriya.

"What do you want, dumbass?" the sheer annoyance in his voice is enough of an indication for the other two boys to walk further away from the both of you and give Bakugou his space.

"I... need to talk to you." you avert your eyes to the side momentarily but then force yourself to look back in his eyes, "It's about Izukkun- " his eyes twitch, you jolt and immediately continue, "please, Bakugou-san."

"Fuck off." he almost turns on his heels to leave.

"Katsukkun... " you know he'll stop if you use the nickname you gave him years ago. For some wicked reason, it makes your eyes glassier- it's been years since you've let this out of your mouth.

Bakugou halts just as you think he would.

"Katsukkun, please. Stop the bullying, it's not his fault he's quirkless." there's a sad expression resting on your face now that you've retorted to using a sweet memory from the past to stop him, "He's human too, he can have dreams."

"You literally can't fucking forget your oh-so poor little bunny, huh?" Bakugou looks more annoyed than he's ever been at you, "Go bang your head against a wall or something, bitch."

Without another glance, he turns and walks off. And without a second delay, you turn to run home, eyes dripping down tears for someone you'd committed to never cry over again.

It hurts- that little boy who would smile like the Sun isn't there anymore and it hurts.

.

________________________________________________________

.

You walk into class all alone the next day- Midoriya has texted you asking you to go ahead because he will be late. Taking the opportunity, the girls call you over to join their morning gossip session.

"Hamiri-chan got her first kiss today." one of the girls excitedly tells you while Hamiri covers her face in embarrassment.

You're surprised she got it only now considering she happens to be the prettiest in the entire school. Compared to her, you look like that oddly half-painted crowd member from a nursery grade student's drawing.

Could it be... 

An odd thought enters your mind.

But Katukkun hasn't ever shown interest in her publicly. There's a chance it could be someone else... right?

But the thought doesn't leave your mind- the prettiest girl in school would obviously end up with the most popular and masculine boy, right?

Something churns in your gut and a weight rests on your chest.

"It was Kurotero-kun from the other class." Hamiri mumbles a moment later, "We've been hanging out at a park near our houses recently and well, it just happened."

A deep exhale of relief involuntarily escapes you.

"That's two girls in our class who have had their first kisses." one of the girls cheers, "Wait- that, considering you haven't yet had one, (L/n)-chan. We never asked you."

"Yeah." Hamiri turns to you, "Midoriya-kun looks like he'd explode if we asked you stuff like that."

You laugh but pause once your eyes fall into blood-red ones. It's only now that you notice that all the boys in class are sitting quietly and eavesdropping on the conversation, even Bakugou.

"(L/n)-chan's too bold and generous to lie." one of your friends butters you, "She's the greatest after all. So, (L/n)-chan," she traces her finger over your sleeve, "please tell me you've got a dramatic first kiss story to tell."

"Why," you snort, "did Hamiri-chan's story not fulfill your thirst for drama?"

"Nope." she shakes her head, "It was too sappy and too romantic." and Hamiri laughs at that, "You tell us something interesting, (L/n)-chan."

"Have you had a kiss yet?" Hamiri looks interested to know too. 

Apparently, the long silence before you reply with a "no, of course not" gives away the truth. Now you're really stressed about it.

"So someone literally wasted their time on you?" the class' female bully Hinaya steps forward, her voice sweet and sing-songed in front of the boys (Bakugou), "That's odd. Was it that or did you pay the guy to do it?"

"Hinaya-chan." your friend doesn't look happy with this.

"Oh," Hinaya's eyes widen, "you probably just kissed your hand thinking it's a boy, no? That's the only thing you can get after all." and some boys snicker.

Normally, you've always got something or the other to come back with but it just so happens that this is a particularly touchy subject- that shining boy you shared that kiss with is no longer there, he's been replaced by someone you don't recognize anymore.

"Y-Yeah... " your eyes get glassy, you try to play it off cool, "It was probably just a mistake.. "

"Oh my," Hinaya explains with her hands covering her mouth, voice turned into an annoying one she thinks is cute, "I'm so sorry, (L/n)-chan, but if you're accepting it to be a mistake, the guy would have probably wanted to die."

Your lips shut tight, eyebrows crinkled and an uncomfortable squeeze disturbing your chest.

"Aren't you going to reply, (L/n)-chan?" your friends don't understand why you haven't shut her up yet. It's too unusual of a behvaiour from you, "A-Are you crying?"

"N-No." but a tear is begging to roll down your eye. You turn back, hand raising to clean it off and just to save you at the right time, the door slams open and Midoriya slides inside yelling an "I'm late!"

He deflates in shame the moment he realizes the teacher isn't here yet and that he's made a fool of himself again.

.

You'd told Midoriya to head home without you because you needed some time alone and he was considerate enough to not question back. You're alone in the class now slowly packing your things to leave for home.

The sound of the classroom door opening makes you turn.

"Hey, (L/n)-chan." Hinaya walks in with her lips pulled inot a straight line. You hum in response.

"When did your first kiss happen?" she comes over and leans against your desk, "How old were you back then?"

You're not in the mood to have an argument or spoil your mood in any other way so you decide to give her what she wants and end this unwanted interaction quickly.

"We were like five?"

"Oh." there's an odd relief in her voice, "Well, just so you know, I'm gonna get a kiss by Katsuki-kun soon, I'll make sure of it. You can go on and enjoy your quirkless frail little bunny."

"Okay." you sling your bang over your shoulders.

She frowns, unhappy with your response, "You know, you should just jump off into a river or something. You're such an embarrassment."

"What will you accomplish by me doing that?" the headache she gives you is now splitting your head. You look away to at least not see that disgusting expression on her face.

"You tell me." she snaps, "Why the fuck was Katsuki-kun looking so smug when we were talking about your first kiss, huh?"

"What is he, your imaginary boyfriend?" you hate how she uses his first name, "And about that, Izukkun and Katsukkun," you put emphasis on the nickname, "both know who the first kiss was with."

"It was probably stupid." she eyes you head to toe, "Who'd like an ugly shithole like you anyways?"

"Neither would someone like a disgusting, smelly little bitch like you." Bakugou's voice from a little away from the both of you makes you jolt. You momentarily glance towards the door not having realized him coming in.

Bakugou has his hand in his pocket and his bag slung over his shoulder. His usual scowl rests on his face.

"What?" Hinaya's act is on again, "You're misjudging me, Katsuki-kun."

The next moment, Bakugou's hand in an inch away from his face, "You say my name one more time and I'll explode that empty head of yours."

You hate bullies and bullying but boy, you're loving this at the moment.

"But Katsu-" she realizes he's not joking around once there's sparks forming at his hands, "Bakugou-kun... I'm more closer to you than she is, right? And all she does the whole day is slut around that stupid Midoriya."

You sigh, "Calling me things like slut doesn't make you better than me, Hinaya-chan. You're the trash you are and I'm not. You know that too."

She frowns deep, "You're so full of yourself, (L/n)-chan, you're always using your smartass in front of Bakugou-kun. He wouldn't be impressed by that at all. You didn't even ask him if he was okay after the sludge incident yesterday."

Bakugou's expressions twitch uncomfortably at the mention of this incident you're unaware of.

"Sludge incident?" you look between the both of them.

"Hah." she folds her hands at her chest, "Search it up. I didn't need to go to some browser to know."

"You're gonna glorify stalking me now, eh?" a nerve in Bakugou's forehead twitches, "Sly little bitch, I'm gonna fucking end you someday."

While Hinaya protests and whines against Bakugou's hostility towards her, you're busy getting horrified on reading the article about the sludge incident.

"Katsukkun- " you begin, eyes widened in nothing but worry, "why didn't you tell me? Why didn't Izukkun tell me either- what the fuck?"

Bakugou doesn't reply, he only grabs your arm and drags you out of the classroom leaving Hinaya behind standing in shock to whatever he's said to her before you started to talk.

He continues to drag you all the way out of school into a small, secluded cafe thereby not allowing a word to leave your lips until the both of you are seated under warm yellow lights in a dark aesthetic interior of a surprisingly serene cafe.

"Don't bother me about it." he says, waving his hand in the air in front of you, "I've had enough fucking talks- that old hag wouldn't even shut up."

"Are you okay?"

"The fuck?" he looks annoyed, "You think something would happen to me because of some shitty villain?"

"No, I mean... it was still a villains attack, right? There's always some sort of minor PTSD or something of the sort." you know it's just that he's not willing to talk about it. The bags under his eyes give enough of how healthy his sleep has been the previous night.

"Stop fucking doubting me."

"I don't." you find yourself shifting closer to him, "I'm just worried... sorry if that's annoying you."

It's been some time since your words have been as soft to him. Honestly, you miss moments like these a lot- moments when it was just the two of you sitting in front of each other back when you were little and kept on talking.

This was the setting when he had once pulled your face closer to his and kissed you when you'd only been five. 

The response he had to this cheeky act was that his parents "did it all the time" and that they say one does it with the person they "love".

Sweetest and cutest confession ever.

It's just too sad that the little boy who said that all to you has turned into the gruff, rude bully sitting in front of you.

Bakugou orders a specific ice cream combination the both of you would eat when you were younger. He doesn't once lift his gaze to look at you after that.

Now, you're left to wonder whether he actually remembered or whether his taste hasn't changed in some nine years.

"About what I had to talk about," he starts suddenly, "about all that happened in class today.. " he is cut off by you mid sentence.

"I know, I know." you heart droops, "I won't ever let anyone ever know that you've had an unfortunate kiss with me. It's alright, you're secret is secured with me, Katsukkun."

He blinks, "What's so fucking unfortunate about it?"

"Huh?"

"What's so fucking unfortunate about it? When I become the number one hero, there's going to be lines of girls wishing to get kisses. Why do you think it's unfortunate, then?"

Your lips open, then close. You stare at him for a moment, "I mean, it's unfortunate for you, right? You were too young to think properly at that time and ended up doing something intimate with someone you didn't actually like."

When Bakugou turns to you, his eyes reflect a certain determination- it's as if what he is thinking at the moment is something he has pondered upon for years and years already.

There isn't even a frown on his pretty face, he only looks concentrated. 

When he opens his mouth, words you'd never expect him to say fall out, "Why? Why did you choose him over me?"

"Who?" but you already know who he is talking about. You swallow, "I chose Izukkun over you?"

He doesn't reply but the look in his eyes gives you all the answers you need.

"I didn't choose him over you," tears form in your eyes, "he's been like a brother to me ever since we were little. It's you, Katsukkun, you're the one who chose to behave like a fucking bitch with him and expect everything to be normal with me after that."

Bakugou looks surprised at that although you feel there couldn't be anything more obvious that this. 

"So you don't like him?"

"He's my friend, of course I do."

"Like, the like like him, dumbass." Bakugou frowns.

"No." you rubs your eyes to wipe off the tears, "I don't like him romantically if that's what you're asking."

"Hah." he doesn't look convinced, "All you do is fuck around with him all day and I'm supposed to feel he isn't anything."

"He's like a brother." you're not liking the way there is a percentage of disbelief in his eyes, "And besides, this all shouldn't really be mattering to you."

"Why not?"

You blink, "Why would it?"

Bakugou's head turns away, his eyebrows raising in what seems to you to be frustration. He pauses for a little, eyes flickering around as though looking for the right words to say, then turns back to you.

"Why wouldn't it?"

Wow, genius. You take all the time of the world just to reply with that?

You choose to keep your thoughts to yourself, however, "Why should it?"

"Why shouldn't it?"

"Why would it?" your tone rises the slightest bit. You don't like this game of questions at all, you don't understand what he's trying to get at.

"I don't know, you tell me." he snaps, "You tell me why it would bother me."

"There's no reason for you to." you frown, "You chose to be the guy who bullies his childhood friends, Katsukkun. There's no reason for you to be bothered if I protect my friend from a bully."

Bakugou inhales and exhales deeply, his eyes rolling over to the side and back leaning into the chair. A few moments of silence pass before he turns back to you.

"Do you really not know or are you just acting?"

"Huh?" 

He shifts and straightens to lean forward, "Okay, listen. I'll say this once... " Bakugou inhales deep, "It... wasn't a mistake."

You blink.

"The kiss." he clears his throat, "I... really liked you back then. We were young and whatever but... it was genuine, okay?"

"How genuine can five year olds kissing be?" the words leave your mouth way too quick, "I mean, we should have been doing something like that at such a young age in the first place."

"We were pretty young." Bakugou's lips tighten, "But that doesn't fucking mean it couldn't have been true."

"Are you sure you liked me back then?" it's bittersweet to know he once had feelings for you.

Bakugou is quiet for a moment. When he opens his mouth again, his eyes are dead focused into yours, "I still do. I have.. e-ever since we were kids."

A spark runs down your body, jaw dropping and eyes widening at him.

"Y-You what?"

He inhales loudly and turns away, "I still like you... I don't like it when you're around that damned Deku the whole day. You're not supposed to be with that loser."

"You like me?" your voice is barely a whisper, "What.. no- wait.. what the- wow. What the fuck, wow."

"You like that?" his eyebrows raise at the floods of red filling into your cheeks, "Are you– what the fuck are you crying for?"

You haven't realized the tears in your eyes until now, "Wh-What... no. I'm not crying.. I'm.." a small cough escapes your lips, "uhm.. so..."

"Mhm?" Bakugou is waiting for the response although he doesn't make it too obvious.

"I... really miss you everyday, Katsukkun." you end up saying, "I miss what you used to be, I can't take the idea of you becoming a bully or a mean person. It hurts."

"What?"

"It hurts so fucking much because I... " you swallow and wipe your tears, "I really like you too. But... I-I can't.."

"Because of him?" his teeth grit, "That Deku–"

"Because you kept on saying you'd be a hero but all you are is a thug, Katsukkun." you snap. A tear rolls down your cheek, "Because it's you whose wrong not him. I can't love a guy who bullies. Feelings for you make me guilty."

Bakugou blinks, "Love?"

"Well what do you expect?" you hysterically laugh it out amidst the tears then swallow, "Other than this one thing, you're great."

"You love me?"

"I do." you nod, hands wiping down your tears, "I really fucking do."

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you while you clean your face and try to calm down. It's too odd for you to be crying this way while accepting your feelings for him especially when the both of you are sitting in a restaurant.

"If... " Bakugou is staring at the ground, "If I ignore him... " he turns to you, " w-would you give me a chance?"

You blink, "A-A chance?"

"To be with you?" he straightens, "To be together?"

Something blooms in your chest, "I... " there's nothing you could ever have wanted more, "Yeah. I'd... love that."

"Great." Bakugou falls back into the chair.

You pause, "But that does mean now bullying him or anyone when I'm around. And I don't want any drama."

"Hah." his eyebrows raise, "You're the one who'd be causing the drama, okay? I don't care about stupid drama."

A small tug makes your lips stretch to a smile, "If you be bitch, I'll dump you Katsukkun."

"Well I'll dump you before that." he snaps.

"Oh, so you want to dump me?" you dramatically clutch your heart and pick your thinks up, "I should be leaving then, no?"

"Oi." he grabs your hand and pulls you down, "Stop it. And there you are proving what I'm saying, dramatic, stupid little girl."

"Says the guy who is serious about the girl he kissed when was five." you giggle.

Bakugou frowns, his ears now visibly getting redder, "Says the girl who's in love with me."

[nikkicloudie]

Double Shifts

Glenn Powell x SingleMom!Reader

Summary: Going grocery shopping with your daughter(Elena). One moment she was next to you. You look away for one second she's gone. You look everywhere to see her "harassing" a certain actor.

Warning: Change of POV, Elena is an adorable sneaky kid, Glen is good with Elena, and Language, short story

A/N: Maybe this could be a mini-series lmkkkk @sarah-bear706318 for this story! and moodbored!

The one day you wished you didn't need to go shopping but were glad at the same time. It was like your daughter was being your wingman...or wing woman..or wing child..? Doesnt matter all that matters was finding your daughter who was lost in the damn store. "Elena!?" you yelled for her looking everywhere for the little demon.

Everyone kept looking at you like you were crazy like you were talking to an invisible person. But like in the real world, they were unhelpful in finding the demon you love your daughter. "Elena?!" you yelled again pushing the shopping cart god damn you're about to leave all your groceries behind to find her.

But what you didn't know was possible had happened...

"Excuse me, sir" Glen heard a small quiet voice behind him. He turned around to see a small girl who looked no later than 6. Glen looked around to see no one other than the little girl in the aisle with him. Glen kneeled down to her level "Hey there" He said with a small smile "You lost?" he asked. The little girl nodded before she spoke "I can't find my mama..." she said sadly. "Hey don't be sad little one...What's your name?" he asked softly as she looked up at him and tilted her head slightly "Elena..." she said "You look familiar" she says again. Glen raised an eyebrow "Oh?" he says before he could ask Elena smiles.

"You that actor..! My mama says you're a hunk! Whatever that is" she shrugs as Glen chuckles "Oh? Is that so?" He asked as Elena nodded quickly which made him giggle again "Let's go find your mommy ok?" He says grabbing her hand as they walk Elena keeps talking and it makes Glen smile and nod. Then behind him, he heard "Elena!" Which made both of them turn around "Mama!" she yells letting go of Glen's hand and running to you as you hug her.

"God you gave me a heart attack!" You yelled and hugged her more tightly which made Elena frown "I sorry mama" she said quietly "Its ok..."You said softly before looking up at the man who was holding your daughter hand which made your freeze....Glen Fucking Powell. Standing right in front of you. "Holy...Holy shit" you muttered and stands up quickly.

Your daughter looks at Glen "Mama he helped me come find you!" she says smiling as you smile at him "Thank you" as he smiles back at you and Elena. "I should get going though," he says. As he starts to walk away you yell "Wait!" he turns around to look at you "Is there anything I could do...to repay you" which made him chuckle and shake his head "No no it ok it's basic human decency" he says "What about dinner?" you ask softly "My treat" you said again which made him smile.

"Sure...dinner sounds lovely"

[tinydefector]

Marine Centre 3- merformers AU

Warnings: talking about mating, loss of babies. Arguments

Word count: 2.1k

Prev

Next

Here's some information on how the Pods kinda work in this fic. If you want more details on the pods let me know.

Here are the Five Pods that reside at the Yawk-yawk Marine Rehabilitation centre. Mind you, there are other pods, but they don't reside at the centre but will make appearances in this fic later on.

Pod 1 - Autobots

Optimus

Ratchet

Bumblebee

Jazz

Prowl

Beachcomber

Ironhide

Pod 2 - Decepticons

Megatron

Starscream

Thundercracker

Skywarp

Soundwave

Shockwave

Pod 3 - Young Autobots (off branch Pod/ Young of other members)

Rodimus

Sunstreaker

Sideswipe

Bluestreak

Smokescreen

Mirage

Pod 4 - mixed members

Windblade

Drift

Pharma

Chromedome

Rewind

Whirl

Arcee

Pod 5 - Combaticons

Swindle

Vortex

Onslaught

Brawl

Blast Off

________________

Little thrills and chirps come from the cove as a tiny blur of yellow and black zips through the water, Chasing the human who walks along the shore line. The little pup eagerly calls out with little noises trying to catch their attention. A chorus of soft crooning rises among the mingled pods at the greeting of the tiny pup.

"Hello Babybee!" The human calls out softly to the baby mer. many of the other oceanides kept looking out over the pup, but they were already aware that the human wouldn't hurt the little one.

The little mer thrills delightedly while trying to drag himself onto the sand closer to them. "No, no, no baby you can't come onto the sand." They call while trying to usher the little yellow and black pup back into the water.

A pout forms on the little one's face, tiny fins flapping in dismay. But just as swiftly Dancer is there in an instant, gracefully scooping the youth back into the safety of the pool.

It's only the deep rumble of Big Blue which makes Bee turn around quickly and call out loudly to his Sire. But he doesn't move. "You haven't been annoying your papa while he's been healing have you?" They inquire only for more little thrills and chirps to leave the pup. Big blue emerges then from the depths, red and cobalt scales gleaming serenely as ever in the midday light.

Bee pouts but subsides against his sire's side, tiny purrs and trills of disappointed longing leave the pup as he clings to the larger mer.

_______

Windblade is first to respond to the little pup, drifting nearer with grace. "Bumblebee, there you are! You know better than to crawl on the sand" she Coos softly to the stripped pup.

Starscream scoffs, though his fins lay flat in disinterest. But ever-playful Skywarp spins gleeful loops around Windblade and pup. "Aww, lookit the little bitlet! You're getting so big, your colours are looking bright" he hums while gently looking over the pup.

"Now now, little one, you know the rules. The beach side is for walking friends, not us, can't have you getting yourself beached." She soothes, calming his upset with the practised ease of a carrier well versed in youthful disobedience. "Aww let him have his fun, Blades! We were all curious pups once."

It's only the deep rumble of Optimus which makes them all go quiet. Bumblebee turns around quickly and calls out loudly to his Sire. But he doesn't move from Windblade’s hold. Optimus slowly takes his pup from her hold cradling the little one close.

"Bumblebee," he rumbles gently, "you know the rules, little one. No going on the sand, you are too young." Gently yet firmly he lifts the pup into loving arms, cerulean eyes glowing with warmth at his little one.

Bumblebee pouts but subsides against his sire's powerful arms, still emitting little Trills of disappointed longing. Optimus meets the caretaker's eyes, they both watch each other for a moment as he continues to cradle his pup.

A mournful stillness falls over the mingled pods as they watch Optimus with Bumblebee.

"last season was a difficult one. But I'm glad to see your little one out and about" Her field pulses faint sadness, she had lost her own too early, taking quickly to Bumblebee as many of the pod did.

“As am I, I'm forever grateful for all the humans have done for Bee, I doubt he would have survived without their help” he rumbles softly. Windblade continues to wiggle her claws at the little one who giggles and grabs them.

"We can't keep losing generation after generation like this. Something's thinning the gene pool and we're not breeding fast enough to replace what's lost." Ironhide calls out while swimming closer. “Hey pup” he hums, giving the little one a head rub.

Starscream hisses uneasily. "There are fewer pods venturing near each cycle. It's those land crawlers doing, mark my words they are the reason for it!” He huffs out.

"I'm aware of the drop in our numbers but as it is, the only help we have received with our young is from the humans, had I not taken Bee to them when I did we would have no surviving pups." His words give them pause. they all knew Optimus was right, Bumblebee was very sick and without the marine centre's help he would have perished.

Optimus to turn to Starscream. “How is Megatron?, I haven't seen him since out fight”

"Megatron's wounds mend, though slowly." Starscream's fins flick in agitation. "The stress is getting to him, he wonders why Primus forbids him his own spawn. But spared yours”

Skywarp chitters nervously. "It's never been this bad before, not for long cycles. Even Megatron knows something bigger's going on, making it hard for the little ones to survive.”

"Maybe the softskins are right and it's more than just bad luck or genes. Something's changing in the deep, and we're on the losing side regardless of the cause." Ironhide shoots back

But Windblade flashes her finned guardians a quelling look. " What matters now is caring for Bumblebee and hope that we are granted a change with the next season."

Windblade continues stroking the youth gently. "Bumblebee would not be here if not for the humans' care. It seems...our song may rely on theirs, if it is to have any hope of continuing in the seas."

Her words are met with uneasy hesitation never before have the Oceanides relied upon outsiders, but Optimus had. Drift speaks up as he Drift's beside Rodimus "Our numbers fall while theirs climb ever higher. If we do not accept assistance, soon there may be no pods left at all."

Starscream hisses uneasily. "Dolphins grow ever more bold and numerous, harassing us when we feed where once they gave a wide berth. The orcas too have tasted our energon and now we have to be wary of them."

Ratchet croons in concern. "The humpback and grey kin have fallen silent, their great pods have moved on. No allies remain in which we can seek refuge when predator numbers swell, our best option is to stay here till they return to these waters."

"The great sharks now prowl only the farthest blue edges, driven from their feeding grounds by the loud noise and flashing lights of human undersea vessels. We have no kin but our own, our safety is the shorelines unless we are in number but with a youngling we can not take to deep waters yet."

Bumblebee chirps again, wiggling in his sires' hold until he escapes, disappearing from Optimus' side and swimming back to the human on the sandy shore again. It earns a laugh from the human as they scoot forward a little. Gently brushing the little frills of his head. It makes Optimus' spark ache.

Starscream vents quietly. "Few among us have known the happiness of sparking and rearing young. I doubt the other pods are having the same issues as us, perhaps we need new mingling when they come to the sands again"

“ It could be an option, considering our five Pods seem to not be having the best of luck” Sunstreaker mutters softly.

“ I'd like to see Chromia again, Hopefully Elita’s pod returns ” Windblade murmurs to herself, she could only hope that Chromia had better luck with a pup. But she did miss her bonded.

“You know the landers don't seem to have much issues with offspring, maybe they'd be willing to help us out” Rodimus blurts out, he wasn't exactly paying full attention to what was being said.

Windblade's fins flare in startled protest. Turning towards the bright orange and Red Oceanide. "Mating with outsiders goes against the sacred bonds of pod and kin!"

"Mating season nears and our numbers dwindle," Rodimus insists. "I'm not saying we have to do anything, it was just a thought!." He huffs out but lounges back against the rocks, his eyes watching the human now playing with Bumblebee in the shallows. But it does make many of the others stop to think. Humans seemed to have much better luck with their young than the Pod. But even that there was no promise of young or if a coupling of that sort would be viable.

Skywarp speaks up next. "If it means pups, what does it matter who their carrier is?"

Ironhide rumbles grim concerns. "Involving outsiders in matters of our Pods could alter both species in ways none foresee."

The younger mers pulse with surging field and logic as Rodimus presses his point. Bluestreak begins voicing his opinion. "Look how the caretaker cares for Bumblebee. Is that so different from how one would care for our young? And see how the little one beams at their touch, as content as any podling among kin!"

"He's got a point - the softskins aren't so strange. And if it brings pups, what's to lose?" Vortex states while watching the other pods continue to argue over the subject.

"Frag the fleshies, if it means more bitlets! Who cares? if it saves our pods I'd say it's worth it” Onslaught remarks only for other mers to hiss at his crash words.

But steely Jazz croons, despite his love for their little caretaker and the other human's of the centre he didn't trust that other humans wouldn't use it to their advantage. "Breedin' another species ain't no simple thing, mech. what's to stop the softskins wantin' somethin' back we ain't willin' to give?"

“We mate freely when the tide flows, so why not them? On land or sea,” Swindle shrugs, it was true, some mers had multiple mades others single, but due to the times they had taken to mating with multiple in hopes for young.

Rodimus refuses to relent under Elders stinging reprimand. "Do you think I propose this out of boredom or mere lust?" he retorts hotly. "Since my own youth, our numbers have halved - and how many more fading cycles must pass before no pups remain at all?, this season we have one surviving, one Pup between Five pods"

"The landers recognize as we do that something ails us. If natural means no longer can restore our numbers, then must we not embrace other paths, however unorthodox, hey im all for if we find another way, but what happens when next season we have no pups"

Rodimus spins to pin each dissenting elder with a fiery piercing glare. "Or would you have us fade to nothing instead, condemning future generations to exist only in memory?" His impassioned defence strikes silence from many.

Optimus' gaze turns to watches with quiet intensity as the human and pup interact, observing how they handle the bitlet with such care.

Long has he guided his pod, but he too knew something was amiss. The broods he once bore long since ventured into the deeps few remained. Yet...if agreement could be found, built, why not try. “If by this season we have no young It will be something the human will know. They are intelligent. If they are willing to assist, we will gladly take their offer” Optimus rumbles, it's the end of discussion as he slowly moves away from the others towards his bitlet.

____

"Yes, yes hello sweet baby, you know I'll get in trouble if I'm around you too much, vets said you need to be around your pod, can't have you getting too attached to me" they hum mainly to themself knowing full well the little pup didn't understand.

Bumblebee thrills piteously, tiny claws outstretched and straining toward them, flexing futilely. "No test today baby, you look so healthy now!" They chimed but sigh as the little one drags themself into their lap. Slowly scooting down the sand they sit in the water so Bee doesn't dry out too much. Their eyes watch the larger Oceanides talk amongst themselves. It almost sounds like a melody with the sweet sounds they made.

“Are the adults boring you baby?” They tease softly only for the little yellow and black pup to snuggle Into their side purring contently. “Gonna get me in big trouble with Quin Beebee.

It's a long while before the older mers finish what seemed like an intense conversation.

Gracefully Big blue nudges nearer, slowly beaching himself close to them, trying his best not to startle either of them. gently but firmly he lifts the pup away, cerulean eye meeting their own with gratitude beyond words. They smile and laugh softly as it earns a grumble from the little one who didn't want to be disturbed.

_______________

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[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Hidden Verses

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N's weekend spirals into something more after a simple Instagram follow sparks nonstop texting with Jenna. As a poetry night unfolds, hidden emotions and lingering looks stir beneath the surface, leaving Y/N wondering if there’s more to Jenna’s words than she realizes.

Word Count: 2.8k

I lay sprawled out on my bed, staring at the crumpled receipt with Jenna's Instagram handle scribbled at the bottom. "Jenna has neat handwriting." Mr. Noodles had busied himself with the loose string from my hoodie, batting it around like it was the most exciting thing in the world. I couldn't help but stare at the note beneath it.

"Thanks for the coffee and conversation again, Slick."

I huffed, running a hand through my hair. It was the weekend, and The Daily Grind was closed, but my mind hadn't stopped buzzing since yesterday. I wasn't sure if it was because I spent the entire night tossing and turning or if the note and handle staring back at me were messing with my head.

Mr. Noodles rolled over next to me, biting the loose string of my hoodie. I chuckled, tugging the string away only for Mr. Noodles to pounce on it again. "You're supposed to be giving me advice, Sir," I muttered to the cat.

"Should I follow her?" I muttered aloud, glancing down at Mr. Noodles as if the cat would magically start talking. Instead, he batted the string again, completely uninterested in my words. Sighing, I pulled out my phone. "Okay, maybe I'll just look at her profile... just a quick peek."

I typed in Jenna's handle, my fingers shaking just a little as her profile popped up. Her feed included behind-the-scenes shots from sets, goofy pictures with friends, and the occasional aesthetically curated post. It was everything I expected and more, yet somehow, seeing it all made Jenna feel both distant and approachable.

I glanced at the Instagram handle again, thumb hovering over the 'follow' button. My heart thumped loudly in my ears. "Do I follow her now? Is that weird?" A nervous flutter filled my chest.

I looked at Mr. Noodles, hoping for some sort of divine intervention. I sighed and turned the phone screen toward the cat, leaning in as if he might actually give me the needed advice.

"What do you think? Follow or not?" I asked, thumb still frozen in place.

Mr. Noodles tilted his head for a moment, and before I could stop him, his paw shot out, landing directly on the screen—pressing the follow button.

My eyes widened. “Oh no… no, no, no, no! Noodles! Why—" I yelped, sitting upright, heart jumping out of my chest. I stared at the phone silently as if it might explode. Great. She's going to think I'm creepy, I panicked.

Mr. Noodles showed no remorse. Unfazed by my mini-crisis, he merely stretched out his paw, pressed it on my chest, meowed, and held it there as if to say, "Chill, human, it's just Instagram."

I laughed softly, scratching behind his ears. "I guess I did ask for your advice, boss; maybe it's not the end of the world," I replied, setting the phone down and falling back onto the pillow. The nerves from before slowly faded as Mr. Noodles curled up closer, purring contentedly.

A few minutes later, a buzz from my phone broke the silence. My heart stopped for a second as I grabbed the phone. It was Jenna.

Jenna: "I see you found my Instagram, Slick."

I sat up again, staring at the screen. Slick. That nickname was going to stick, wasn't it?

My heart was still pounding. What am I supposed to say to that? I bit my lip, staring at the screen, trying to find the perfect way to respond without sounding like I was fangirling.

Y/N: "Haha, yeah, I might have had a little nudge from Mr. Noodles. He has a knack for pressing buttons."

Jenna's response came quickly.

Jenna: "I knew Mr. Noodles had good taste. Should I be worried he's the mastermind behind everything?"

I chuckled, panic subsiding. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought.

Y/N: "Definitely. He's secretly running my life from behind the scenes."

Jenna: "Well, tell him he's doing a great job."

The conversation flowed easily after that. Jenna texted about how she was shopping with her mom and sister. I found myself smiling as I read Jenna's updates about their day. We talked about each other's Instagram pages, with Jenna casually mentioning how "quiet" my account was. She commented on some of them—photos of The Daily Grind, a bunch of funny pictures of Mr. Noodles, and random snapshots of L.A. life.

Jenna: "I didn't know you were into photography."

Y/N: "Just something I dabble in, nothing serious."

Jenna: "Well, you've got an eye for it."

Reading Jenna's message, I bit my tongue, stifling a snicker.

Y/N: "You've got an eye for a lot of things, don't you? Bet you could spot a diamond in the rough without even trying."

There was a moment of silence, a break in the rapid-fire messaging, and my brain immediately went into panic mode. As I reread my last message, my heart raced as I questioned every word. Was that flirting? Oh god, did it sound like I was flirting? Groaning internally, I debated whether to follow up or leave it alone, replaying the words repeatedly, hoping I hadn't crossed any lines.

Meanwhile, across town, Jenna stood in a boutique with her mom and sister, holding a pair of shoes, when her phone buzzed again. She glanced down at my message, a small, amused smile playing on her lips as she read it. Was that... flirting? she wondered, feeling a spark of something she couldn't quite place.

Aliyah, her younger sister, nudged her with a teasing grin. "You've been glued to that phone all day. What's up with that?"

Jenna shrugged, trying to play it off. "Nothing, just texting."

"Texting who?" Aliyah leaned in, trying to peek over Jenna's shoulder. "Come on, spill the tea! You haven't been this distracted since... ever."

Jenna quickly pulled her phone closer, shooting her sister a look. "It's not a big deal."

Aliyah raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Uh-huh, sure. You're not fooling me. Who is it?"

Jenna smirked and shook her head. "None of your business, Aliyah."

Aliyah laughed. "Fine, keep your secrets. But I'm watching you," she teased, throwing a playful smirk as they walked away. Jenna's thoughts lingered on my message, the teasing fading into the background as she mentally filed away the moment for later.

Panicking a little, I started typing out an explanation. "I was just saying, you know, your Instagram feed is super polished. That post you did at the premiere? It definitely looks professional. Like, you've got an eye for these things."

I hit send, biting my lip as the message went through. Crisis averted, right?

But her reply came in almost immediately: "Are you flirting with me, Slick?"

My face immediately heated up. Was I? I hadn't thought so, but now… maybe? My heart raced as I stared at the words on my screen.

Frantically, I started typing again, trying to come up with something that didn't make me sound like a complete fool. My fingers danced over the keyboard as I finally typed, "Only if it's working."

I winced immediately. Did I seriously just say that? But I didn't have time to take it back because Jenna's reply popped up almost instantly: "Maybe it is ;)"

My brain short-circuited as I reread the message, swallowing hard. I needed to keep it together.

The rest of the day flew by. We texted back and forth, sometimes in rapid bursts and other times falling into a comfortable silence. I hadn't even noticed how much time we had spent texting. After cooking, I sent Jenna a quick message.

Y/N: "About to eat. What about you?"

But before I could wait for a response, Mr. Noodles let out a long, dramatic meow, reminding me of his presence—and his empty food bowl.

"Don't worry, I didn't forget about you," I muttered, hopping up to feed him.

Y/N: "Feeding Mr. Noodles before he stages a protest."

Jenna: "A well-fed Noodles is a happy Noodles."

I laughed and grabbed the little tray, setting Noodles' plate on it. "I even got the tray this time, Noodles." Noodles never ate his meals unless they were on his special tray. The cat had his dignity, after all. I took a quick selfie with Noodles eating his food in the foreground, my hoodie-clad self sitting beside him with a content smile.

Y/N: [Pic] "Noodles approves of dinner."

Jenna: "Noodles is adorable. Oh yeah, you're there too."

Gasping playfully, I put my hand on my chest and shook my head.

After dinner, I tossed my phone on the bed and stretched. Then, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, tugging at my hoodie strings.

"We've been texting all day… like we're—" The thought was abruptly halted by a text from Jenna.

Jenna: Oh, are you going to that poetry event?"

I paused. I had almost forgotten about the poetry night, but now the idea of Jenna showing up made me excited and nervous.

Y/N: "Yeah, I'll be there, "I can't get out of work that easily, sadly."

Jenna: Lol, good, because I was thinking about stopping by.

I smiled at my phone, feeling a strange excitement bubbling inside me. I mentioned the event casually, not thinking Jenna would actually show up. But here she was, considering it.

Y/N: "Yeah, come drop by! It's going to be tons of fun."

Jenna: "Fun's one way to put it…I was thinking about reading something."

I froze. Jenna Ortega, reading poetry?

Y/N: "Wait, you're gonna read something? Now I have to see this."

Jenna: "Guess you'll have something to look forward to then."

Y/N: "I guess we’ll see then. I'm heading to bed. I'll talk to you later. Goodnight!"

Jenna: "All right, get some rest. Goodnight!"

I flopped back onto my bed, my phone still in hand. Mr. Noodles, completely unbothered, was fast asleep, the very cause of my earlier crisis now resting peacefully. I gave him a light scratch on the head. "This is going to be an interesting poetry night, buddy."

A few days later, the poetry event was in full swing at The Daily Grind. The café's warm glow set the perfect stage for the poets to approach the mic. Customers sat scattered around tables, sipping lattes and nibbling on pastries, but tonight, there was no usual chatter. The air buzzed with something more—a soft, attentive silence layered with the energy of excitement and nerves.

I stood behind the counter, half-listening to the poems as I washed some dishes. My mind kept drifting back to Jenna, who'd arrived not too long ago. She was sitting in the middle of the café now, flipping through her journal, occasionally looking up when someone delivered a line that caught her interest.

I tried to focus on the cappuccino cup I was washing, but my stomach kept twisting with this weird mix of excitement and nerves. I'd never really imagined Jenna as the poetry type, but seeing her here, confident, made the idea of her reading even more intriguing. Jenna, reading poetry. Damn.

I’d finished the last of my batch of dishes when I heard the soft creak of a chair. Glancing up, I saw Jenna standing, journal in hand, making her way toward the small stage. Her steps were steady but confident, sending my heart into overdrive.

I leaned against the counter, gripping the edge as I watched her take her place at the mic. The background hum of conversation faded to nothing, and I could feel the energy shift as Jenna tapped her journal against the mic stand.

"Hi, for those who don't know me, my name is Jenna." The crowd softly erupted into a few snaps and cheers.

"This is something I've been working on for a while," Jenna started, her voice steady but carrying this vulnerable edge. "I don't usually share my poetry, but… here goes nothing."

My breath caught in my chest. The café was silent now, except for the faint hiss of the espresso machine in the background. My attention was fixed on Jenna.

She flipped open her journal, her fingers gently brushing over the worn pages. She took a deep breath and began to read:

"There's a space between silence and sound, Where words get caught, Lingering like an echo that never fades, A warmth that lingers in the coldest moments. It’s like a whisper I can't quite grasp, But somehow, it stays with me."

Her voice was soft but sure, each word hanging in the air like it belonged there. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, feeling my chest tighten as her words seemed to reach out and pull me in. The room felt smaller, more intimate, like it was just the two of us.

"There's a light that breaks through the quiet, A glow that touches everything in its path. And when it touches me, I feel—"

She paused, glancing up from her journal, and her eyes landed on me. For a heartbeat, we locked eyes, and I swear my heart stuttered.

"I feel like I could stay in that light forever," she finished, her voice dropping into something softer, almost like it was just for me.

The room stayed quiet for a beat, the kind of quiet that follows something that just hits everyone right where it counts. Soft applause and snaps slowly filled the space, but I barely registered it. I was too busy trying to breathe, trying to shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—that line had been meant for me.

Jenna closed her journal with a soft thud, her eyes scanning the room as she smiled nervously. I joined in the clapping, my hands slightly trembling. That line—"I could stay in that light forever." Damn, she had me more shaken than I wanted to admit.

Jenna stepped off the stage, her face still flushed as she sat at the counter where I stood. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I let out a shaky laugh.

"Not bad for a movie star," I managed to say, my voice betraying me.

Jenna looked up at me, a smile tugging at her lips. "You didn’t think I had it in me, huh?"

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. "No, I just… didn’t expect it. But yeah, you really had something there."

Jenna raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by how flustered I was. "Thanks, Slick. Maybe one day I’ll share the rest with you."

My throat tightened. I shook my head, laughing nervously. "Only if you want to! No rush or pressure."

She leaned in a little, her smile still teasing. "Yeah, I don’t mind. I guess I’m full of surprises."

Before I could reply, our hands brushed as I reached for a stray napkin left by a patron. That small touch sent a spark through me, my heart racing. Jenna’s fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary before her face grew redder, and she reached into her bag, pulling out a small, leather-bound journal.

"This," Jenna said, "is what I’ve been working on."

My eyes widened. "That’s amazing. Looks like a real book already."

Jenna smiled, running her fingers over the cover. "I’ve been working on a collection of affirmations and positive vibes. Something people can read to start their day off right."

I lit up. "That’s incredible! You should write a poem about The Daily Grind. You know, as an ode to caffeine and good vibes."

Jenna froze for a second, her blush deepening. "I—um—yeah, I could do that," she stammered.

I tilted my head, a little concerned. "You all right? You don’t have to if you're not up for it. I just thought you really enjoyed the café. It always seems to relax you."

Jenna let out a nervous laugh as she fidgeted with her journal. "Just a few after-butterflies. The crowd can be overwhelming sometimes... even for a big movie star," she said, her voice quieter than usual, clearly nervous.

I smiled, trying to ease the tension. "Come on, I know just the spot where you can get some air."

I led Jenna out to the back patio, the view of the city spreading out before us. The twinkling lights of L.A. cast a soft glow over the horizon, making everything feel a little more magical. It was quieter here, away from the usual hum of the café, just the two of us. The noise of the poetry event faded, leaving behind the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Jenna leaned back in her chair, staring out at the view, her journal resting on her lap. She seemed more at ease now, her earlier nervousness gone. I couldn’t help but watch her, still in awe of how someone like her could feel so grounded, sitting next to me like this.

I started humming softly, letting the cool night air relax me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jenna turn her head slightly, listening. Her eyes softened.

“You’ve got a beautiful voice, Y/N,” Jenna said, her voice gentle.

I glanced down at my hands, caught off guard. “Thanks. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

“You should sing more,” Jenna added. “It suits you.”

I smiled but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the peaceful atmosphere sink in. The night wrapped around us, soft and still. The only sound was the breeze weaving through the trees, and our quiet breathing.

Eventually, Jenna broke the silence. “I used to take acting classes as a kid. I thought it was fun, but it was also a lot of work. Everyone thinks it’s all glam, but it’s really not.”

I opened my eyes and looked over at her. “Yeah? I remember wanting to be a star when I was younger. My parents got me singing lessons, but I ended up with a lazy talent agent who only got me background roles in a few plays and on the occasional TV or movie set.”

Jenna chuckled lightly, her smile a little mischievous. “Hey, that’s how it starts. You’ve got to work your way up. Hollywood isn’t like the movies—there’s no fairy tale moment where someone discovers you walking down the street.”

I laughed with her. “Guess I’ll stick to making lattes.”

Jenna grinned, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. “You’re good at that, too.”

As we continued talking, it felt like the world outside the patio didn’t exist anymore. It was just me and Jenna, the stars above us, and the quiet stillness of the night. We traded stories—nothing deep or profound, but it was effortless. Like we’d known each other longer than we actually had.

There was something calming about being with Jenna, something that made me feel like I didn’t have to rush or worry. Just being in the moment was enough.

Jenna took a deep breath, breaking the quiet. “I guess that’s what I love about acting… it lets me escape for a while, but it’s not always what people think.”

I tilted my head, listening carefully. “Yeah? What do people get wrong about it?”

She paused, her fingers tracing the edges of her journal absentmindedly. “They only see the glam, the red carpets, and the premieres. But they don’t see the long hours, the rejection, or how hard you have to work just to land a role. It can get exhausting.”

I nodded. "I feel you. Sometimes, everyone only sees the end result and forgets all the effort it took to get there."

Jenna smiled, a little softer this time. “Exactly. I think that’s why I like moments like this… when everything’s quiet, and I can just be myself. No cameras, no expectations.”

My chest tightened a little at her words. There was a vulnerability there, a side of Jenna I hadn’t seen before. I nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation settle between us. “Yeah… moments like this are pretty rare.”

She looked at me then, her eyes lingering just a little longer than usual, like she was trying to figure me out. It was quiet again, but this time, the silence felt different—deeper.

Eventually, I spoke up, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, you really should write that poem about The Daily Grind. You’ve got to immortalize this place in poetry.”

Jenna laughed, the sound soft but full of warmth. “Okay, okay, I’ll think about it.”

We both sat there for a little while longer, the city lights twinkling around us like stars had spilled onto the ground. It was one of those rare moments where everything just felt… right. I didn’t want it to end, but as the night deepened, I knew we’d have to head back soon.

But for now, I was content to just sit there, with Jenna beside me, the world quiet around us.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag part 4

Warnings: blood, vampire night club, kidnapping of human, intimate vampire whump/blood drinking and violence, dominance power move

The vampire only had two goals: to sate his thirst, and to subdue and dominate the human. Show him who to cower from.

Screams of anger from the hunter turned to wails of pain instead, that rose in pitch to an almost unbearable level the more the vampire took from him.

Alex growled possessively, teeth still locked firmly in his victim's neck, and suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth, muffling the shrieks. His nails dig into the hunter's face, his grip tight enough to bruise.

The human's struggles gradually started to slow, the screaming and wailing losing power and fading weakly. His breaths came fast and ragged through his nose, small whines and whimpers the only sounds escaping him as he lost strength in all his limbs from blood loss.

Alex smiled against his toy's neck, slowly taking his fangs out and licking the wound closed. Thank goodness for the healing properties of vampire saliva. This experience wouldn't be half as fun without it. Because now he could play with his toy again, and again, and again, as long as he was careful never to drink too much in one sitting.

He let go of the hunter's hair and mouth and pulled back to look at him. The man's face was extremely pale, unfocused eyes drifting dizzily around, cloudy with pain. His whole body was trembling like a newborn fawn, whether from shock or terror he couldn't tell.

Alex ran a smooth hand over the side of the hunter's neck, wiping away a few last drops of blood. “That was… better than I expected,” he chuckled cruelly. “Not bad, for a human. Now tell me, are you going to be a problem again during the remaining duration of this drive, or will I have to come back here and shut you up again? Nod if you understand. Will you be a good and obedient little human for me?” Danger edged his voice in every word.

The hunter whimpered pitifully, trying feebly to scoot and shrink away from the vampire.

Fast as a striking snake, Alex's hand moved to wrap around his throat, pinning him back to the seat cushions without applying any real pressure. It was a warning, a power move. “Will. You. Obey?” He hissed, firmer this time.

The hunter's wide eyes met his, no trace of cockiness or stubbornness remaining, nothing but fear in his expression – exactly what the vampire was hoping for. He let out a pained moan, but managed a weak nod, eyes rolling in his skull.

“Good. No more arguing for the rest of the trip, or I'm coming back here again to shut you up.” Alex climbed out of the back, leaving the human sprawled limply across the seats, too weak to fight anymore. He got in front and started the car, speeding back up and merging into the freeway. Maybe he'd been too harsh with his new prize, after all the human had a lot to learn, and the sounds of choked sobs made Alex feel a microscopic pang of guilt. He'd terrified the little creature half to death – he hoped it would still be functional enough to talk later. It would be a pity to break him so quickly.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

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[ponderingmoonlight]

How kny men treat their pregnant wife

Pairings: Obanai x fem!reader; Rengoku x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: I went absolutely insane in Sanemi's part lmao, let me know what you think about maybe even more kny complilations in the future?🤍🫶

Obanai – super overprotective

„Darling, you really don’t have to be cautious all the time. I’m fine and it’s mid-day.”

“You never know”, the man next to you mumbles while positioning himself in front of you.

Since the day Obanai found out that you’re expecting your very first child, he never left your side. Not even at night, when he’s usually out fulfilling his duty as a hashira. And if he must go, he always makes sure that you’re not alone.

“I really don’t want to bother you, but Iguro-san sent me here to keep an eye open for you”, Mitsuri explained with reddened cheeks after appearing in front of your door at sunset.

You sign to yourself with a small smile crawling up your face. You never really realized that your husband is so eager to have a child. When the two of you first met, he acted so cold towards you that you were convinced he hated you after saving your life in your village back then. It wasn’t until he showed up at the butterfly estate on a random day and handed you a bouquet of flowers that you realized how hard you fell for that man yourself. Despite his cool and composed walls, despite always staying in the background and leaving disgracing comments from time to time. You really learned how to love the serpent hashira for the man he is: kind, loving, protective and smart.

“Why are you not coming over to cuddle me instead?”, you suggest oh so sweetly while opening your arms as an invitation.

Obanai side-eyes you up and down, his mind visibly racing behind those gorgeous eyes.

“But what if I hurt you and the baby?”, he mutters, still standing his ground.

“I’m not made of paper and the baby isn’t as well. And also, I’m carving nothing more than a hug from my husband at the moment.”

Slowly but surely, he finally turns around. As if you’re made of porcelain, he wraps his arms around you oh so gently. Have you ever seen your husband this cautious and sensitive around other human beings? You’ve seen the way he beats up the other corps members in his training sessions on a daily basis. A giggle escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. Your man really turned soft due to this pregnancy.

“What’s so funny?”, he grumbles, his vibrant eyes set on you.

“You’re too hesitant to give me a real hug and yet, you’re beating up innocent kids during training. Come on now, I said I want a real hug!”

Before he’s able to protest, you press yourself against him with full force, allow your head to rest against his beating heart. It’s been ages since he last cuddled you the way you always loved it. With your body resting on top of his and your arms wrapped around his broad chest, everything starts to feel like home.

“Don’t you think that’s too dangerous? The baby-“

“The baby will be fine. I can handle a tight hug, darling. I really missed this…”

He shifts his weight underneath you and gently starts rubbing your back. Oh, how much you adore your husband and those sweet little moments between both of you. You never imagined to love someone like this, to fall head over heels for a man who is the complete opposite of yourself. But here you are, falling even harder day by day.

“And…you really think this is safe?”

“I’m absolutely sure it is!”

Obanai pauses for a moment, his eyes almost piercing through you.

“I think you should go and see Shinobu later”, he finally presses out.

“Come on, I already told you-“

“This doesn’t feel safe at all. We’re leaving in just a few minutes”, he continues while wrapping his arms around you.

Rengoku – the proudest soon-to-be dad

“I made you breakfast, my love!”, your husband announces while entering your shared bedroom in his plain white kimono.

“You’re way too kind, Kyojuro. You know I could have done it myself”, you reply while lifting yourself off the futon.

“Oh, let me help you up!”

Gently, he grabs your shoulders and helps you to get up. With your swollen belly, things aren’t as easy as they used to be. By now, you aren’t even able to see your feet anymore.

But it’s all worth it. He’s all worth it.

“Look at you”, he mutters with unusual low voice.

When his hand starts caressing your belly along with that loving gleam in his eyes, you almost forget how to breathe. From the day both of you found out that you are expecting a child, Kyojuro fell head over heels.

“You look so breathtakingly good, my everything. I could stand here and stare at you all day, little flame.”

It almost seems as if Kyojuro’s already heavy feelings doubled during your pregnancy. Not a single hour goes by without him telling you how gorgeous you look, that you are an angel walking on earth.

Even though you know you gained a few pounds and how swollen your face looks. He doesn’t care about the fact that sometimes, you are too exhausted to wash your hair or that you didn’t dress in something nice since your clothes started to get too tight.

Your husband adores each and every fiber of your being.

“Stop, you’re making me blush”, you giggle while playfully freeing yourself out of his strong arms.

“I’ll never stop telling my pregnant wife how gorgeous she looks! How are you feeling, my love?”

You find yourself trapped in his arms with his eyes all over you again. God, will you ever get tired of looking at him, of seeing those vibrant eyes?

“I’m okay. I just feel a little heavy.”

“I’m so proud of you for enduring all of this. Shinobu already told me this pregnancy doesn’t go easy on your body. You’re a real fighter, (y/n)!”

“A fighter? My body is supposed to do this. There’s nothing special about that”, you try to brush his praise off, cheeks already turning dark red.

“Don’t think about it that way. Your body might be equipped for a pregnancy, but Shinobu informed me about all the things you have to endure and how painful and tiring it can be-“

“Did Shinobu really explain all those things to you?”, you mutter through your hands that cover your face in sheer embarrassment.

“Of course! After all, I’m your husband and it’s my duty to support you in the best way possible!”, his beaming voice replies proudly.

“And I can’t wait to meet our little wonder.”

The second he gets on his knees, you see stars. Oh so gently, he pulls your kimono to the side and starts caressing and kissing your womb. Your knees threaten to fail you, feelings all over the place. God, you really don’t deserve a loving and caring husband like him, you don’t deserve all those feelings he holds for you and your unborn baby so openly.

Before you’re able to stop yourself, a violent sob escapes your lips.

“No love, why are you crying?”

Kyojuro meets you eye to eye in an instant, his hand carrying away every little tear that threatens to stain your face.

“It’s just…You are too kind…I don’t deserve your praise…”, you croak out.

“You deserve this and so much more. Now come on, I made you mochis with the receipt Kanroji taught me…”

You sniffle uncontrollably in his arms.

Wait, did he just say…

“You mean my favorite mochis?”, you mutter.

“Of course, little flame!”

“Oh…Then…Maybe we should get going, then…”

Sanemi – doesn’t even know yet

Fuck fuck fuck.

You stare at Shinobu in sheer horror. This can’t be true. Definitely a mistake. A cruel joke, maybe.

You…pregnant?

“Tell me you’re joking”, you mutter under your breath.

Just when you thought things between Sanemi and you started to get better, than you finally managed to live besides. Calling yourself his wife was never easy, especially due to the fact that he only married you because your family literally sold you to him in exchange for not killing you right on the spot. The two of you never seemed to get along that well.

You swallow hard. That night was an exception. You came home drunk, you didn’t know what you were doing when you seduced him, when you began babbling about something as stupid as feelings.

You swore to yourself that you’ll never fall for your husband. And now you’re expecting his child.

“I’d never joke about something like that, (y/n). It seems like somehow, you managed to get pregnant”, Shinobu replies in all seriousness while taking off her gloves.

Fuck.

“He’ll fucking kill me”, you mumble to yourself.

“Maybe he’ll skin me before that, slice open my belly like a fish-“

“Can you just stop?”, Shinobu interrupts you in all urgency.

“Shinazugawa might not be the most empathic man walking on this earth, but he also didn’t marry you for nothing. I’m sure everything will be fi-“

“Absolutely nothing’s fine. I’m fucking screwed”, you huff in frustration while yanking up.

You’re completely fucked. There’s no way in hell Sanemi will ever find out about this, not in this lifetime. You have to make sure that this stays a secret.

“Don’t you dare to tell him a single word about this, got it?”, you literally threaten Shinobu with your shaky finger pointing at her.

You, expecting a baby.

From Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Without even waiting for her reply, you storm out. Are you able to get rid of this situation? Mindlessly, you rub your belly when a new wave of memories from that fateful night hits you.

“I might l-love you”, you blurted into the room, Sanemi’s widened eyes staring at you in sheer horror.

“You…love me? Just yesterday, you told me how much you hate me”, he clarified with harsh voice.

“Are you drunk, (y/n)?”

“I…might be, yeah. But I mean it.”

Against all voices that begged you to stop, you darted towards him.

Until you sat on top of him and wrapped your longing arms around his neck.

“I love u, Sanemi.”

“I can’t believe a single word you say, shithead.”

“Watch me, then.”

It happened so fast you still can’t believe it. One passionate kiss, your hands wandering underneath his uniform, his muscular frame on top of you.

“You really want this?”, he huffed against your cheek, usual so maniac orbs filled with nothing but pure lust.

“Yeah”, you breathed out.

Urgh. You dig your nails into your hair, head spinning instantly. What kind of fuckery is this? Your first night ever and now…you’re pregnant? As if things between you and him aren’t already cringe enough.

“Why are you looking like shit?”

His oh so familiar voice makes your guts turn. For the split of a second, you are literally one movement away from puking all over his feet.

“Why are you talking shit?”, you spit at him, shoulder bumping against his as you try to get away from here as soon as possible.

But Sanemi grabs your wrist before you’re even able to think about your escape.

“Why were you at Shinobu’s? You never visit her.”

“I’m not feeling well”, you jeer at him.

“You even refused talking to her when your bone splatted out of your damn leg. Don’t fuck with me, (y/n). You didn’t come here for nothing.”

“Yeah, I really shouldn’t have done that”, you snap, violently ripping away your wrist.

This is way too much. Your family, Sanemi, that damned pregnancy. You thought this hell trip was over when Sanemi somehow managed to accept you, you really thought you could leave a rather peaceful life.

God, what a fucking fool you are.

“Hey, what the hell is going on? (y/n)!”

Just before your knees hit the ground, you feel Sanemi’s strong arms lifting you back up.

“What the hell has gotten into you!?”

“I’m pregnant!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

“All of this because of that damned night, because I lost my fucking control. I’m pregnant…”

Sanemi’s arms around you tense up immediately. Fuck, you can’t even bring yourself to look at him.

Truth is, you love that man. Fuck, you fell for him harder than you ever imagined, so badly that you can’t stop thinking about him. And that night, you allowed yourself to get a taste of him. After all, maybe this was all you need to finally forget about him, right?

What a fool you are.

“You’re…what?”

Violently you rub away the tear that starts rolling down your cheek.

“You’re…pregnant…”

“Saying it again and again won’t make it disappear”, you bark at him.

“I’ll be a dad?”

Huh? What is that unusual tone in his voice. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa really sound…joyful?

“Yeah…”, you mutter.

In the split of a second, you find yourself devoured in his arms and captivated by his glossy eyes. Your heart skips a beat, mind not able to follow the scene that lays itself out in front of your eyes. He doesn’t look angry at all, not even sad. No, he looks as happy as you’ve never seen him before.

“I can’t believe it. I never imagined this to happen”, he whispers while grabbing your face.

“Gosh, let me kiss you.”

“You want to kiss me?”, you shriek.

Despite your growing feelings for the wind hashira and those countless secret looks you’ve shared with each other, it was always a quiet agreement between both of you to never express any feelings. No hugs, no kisses, no questions. Just living side by side. Fuck, you never even allowed yourself to even gaze at his lips before that fateful night.

And now you’re lying in his arms, pregnant while he asks for a kiss.

“I mean…yeah”, you finally breathe out.

And then his lips crush against yours. Longingly, passionately, filled with so many emotions that you fail to breathe. All this time, you tried so desperately to hate that man, to hide your feelings from him in order to protect yourself. But all it took was a single night and that unexpected pregnancy to make you realize that maybe, allowing yourself to discover your own feelings isn’t that bad, after all.

Maybe, everything will in fact turn out alright.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Comfort ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Summary: You and Lando have dealt with anxiety separately, but now you have each other.

➻ ln4 x reader ⋆˚✿˖°

➻ fluff + comfort ⋆˚✿˖°

masterlist ☾☼

one of the first things that you and lando had bonded over was anxiety. the two of you had separate reasons for it, but it did not change the fact that the two of you had very similar processes on dealing with it. it did not take much time for the both of you to have each other on speed dial for when there was an oncoming panic attack, or when the mind began spiralling with no intentions to stop. 

over the years, the friendship grew into something more, and your responses to your increased anxiety changed with that. at first, it did not include other human beings at all, and instead focused on pets or music or even purposely tiring yourself out through exercise. now, it included each other. 

the first time you got overstimulated around him was when he had sneaked you in the McLaren paddock. you were excited to be there for lando, and he was excited to have you there. you knew how serious lando was about driving and understanding the car himself, so you steered clear as much as possible so as to not distract him. what you were not expecting though, was the amount of people there. 

obviously, you were aware that there were going to be a lot of people present, but you had underestimated just how much. someone was constantly bumping into you or brushing against you. there were too many hands and bodies and they were all too close. you could feel the itch under your skin to get away. to find a place where no one could touch you in any way or form. you felt uneasy and uncomfortable, and you wanted to scrub your skin to remove all the stranger skin feel. 

“y/n, love, i’m going to-“ lands voice was loud in your ears. he was too close. his skin felt weird. you needed him close. what was happening? 

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” your eyes focused on his shoes. his toes were touching yours. too close. his voice was loud, but everything else was louder. someone bumped into you, and you fell into lando. his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist. you cringed at the feeling. 

“love, what’s wrong?” he asked again.

“overstimulated. too many people touching. i don’t like it. i can’t-“ you broke off. you wanted to cry. you shouldn’t. you did not want to cry in the paddock. 

lando took a step back, and your heart slowed down a little. he stared at you for a second, and you worried that he was going to be disappointed. and then, his pinky finger reached out to you. you stared at it. he waited patiently. slowly, you wrapped your pinky finger around his, and your body relaxed a little. 

he did not say a word, and instead just led you to a deserted corner. you tried not to wince at the feel of people, and instead focused on lando’s pinky finger and the small part of your skin that was connected to someone else, connected to lando. 

keeping his finger interlocked with yours, he whispered, “no one’s going to be too close if you stand here. you can still watch the race from here, and i’ll get a chair for you to get comfortable in. i’ll come see you before i have to go, and i’ll come see you as soon as i’m out of the car. okay?” 

you nodded. “thank you. i’m sorry i’m ruining this-“ 

“never apologise for something like this. thank you for telling me that you were feeling overstimulated. thank you for trusting me.” 

you wanted to hug him. god, you wanted to hug him so desperately, but the mere thought of his body pressed against yours made you uneasy. instead, you squeezed your pinky finger around his and smiled at him. he smiled back at you, his lips spreading wide, and his eyes sparkling. he left a featherlight kiss on your forehead, before turning and leaving. 

he understood you. 

and just like he understood you, you understood him. 

it was a couple of years later when it happened in the paddock again. except, it wasn’t you who got overstimulated. lando and you had been public for only about a year, and you were sitting with the headphones on, watching the race. 

lando hadn’t been feeling so well that morning, and you knew it was just nerves. he hadn’t eaten and was solely surviving on water. you had been worried, but you also knew that this was every race weekend. 

as you watched on, the entire area was silent as everyone focused on the way lando and george drove wheel to wheel. everyone watched with bated breath as the next turn came up, and you watched in shock as lando lost control of the car and hit the wall. his front wing had been crushed completely, and the red flag alert was sent out. you watched with nervousness that you had never experienced before as lando got out of the car and into the safety car. 

removing the headphones, you ran to the driver’s room, where you knew lando would isolate himself, at least for a few minutes. you waited, pacing the room, when suddenly the door opened. lando looked at you with red eyes, and his fingers were twitching by his side. 

quickly locking the door, lando took three steps towards you and crashed into a hug. his breathing was fast, and you could feel his heartbeat through his fireproofs. 

“lan, what’s wrong?” you asked softly. 

“can feel it everywhere. it’s too loud. it’s ringing in my ears.” he whispered against your neck. 

you shifted the two of you, lando still holding onto you tightly. you sat down on the couch, pulling lando with you. 

“what can you feel everywhere, baby? your heartbeat?” you asked softly. 

he nodded, his arms tightening around you. 

grabbing one of his hands, you shifted it and placed it against your heart. you whispered in his ear, “breathe with me. in, and out.” 

lando followed your instructions, mentally counting your heartbeat and matching your breathing. slowly, his heart rate went back to normal, and his breathing evened out. “i’m so tired.” he said. 

running your fingers through his hair, you replied, “you can sleep for a little while. i’ll wake you up when someone calls you for something.” 

“thank you,” a gentle kiss was pressed against your collarbone. 

“i love you.” you said. 

“i love you more.” 

you scoffed, smiling, “that’s not possible.” 

he hummed, “watch me.” 

you smiled against his hair, and tightened your hold on him. 

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

i've had this idea for a while, and I finally wrote it! i hope you guys enjoyed it! i've also got a link for my taglist that you can find here!

[dragon-ascent]

Coddling Zhongli in his tiny dragon form can have quite the hilarious consequences.

Chonky dragon Li wiggles a lot when you give him treats. His whole fluffy body just turns into a noodle as he eagerly makes grabby-paws at the food - something utterly endearing.

This, eventually, seeps into his human-form behaviour. When you bring him tea in the evening, he looks up from his book and starts wiggling with a small smile on his face; you're internally cooing at this grown man and thereby nearly drop the teacups.

Belly rubs are some of your miniature lover's favourite things to receive! Whenever he sees you, he's immediately on his back, paws curled, ready to get some love.

Human-form Zhongli is lying in bed later. When you enter the room a short time later, he immediately twists his body so he's belly up, fingers and toes curled.

Suddenly having realised this, he relaxes his posture, but it's too late - you're clutching your own stomach in peals of laughter. Sighing and turning his nose up, Zhongli leaves the room.

"Wait! Come back, Zhongli! I'll still rub your belly!"

Sometimes, you like to pick Chonkli up and sway him around gently, going, “My stinky husband! My stinky, stinky husband! Stinky!” The little creature mrrrps in delight, his tail swishing like a fan.

Later that evening at a social gathering where he's your plus-one, his introductions are a little off. “I’m Zhongli, Wangsheng consultant and (Name)’s stinky husband- oh, forgive me. I mean husband.”

[kazusys]

— hugging scenarios.

genshin men in different scenarios revolving around hugging. (❕) a/n: will maybe do a pt. 2. suggest (male) characters! :]

characters included: kazuha, xiao, scaramouche/wanderer, tighnari, cyno, kaeya, and diluc.

kazuha nuzzles his head in your neck as you run your fingers through his un-ponytailed hair, your back facing him as you focus mainly on what you’re reading.

he’s gripping you tightly, thinking up reasons of how he’d be able to explain throwing your book with your notes inside across the room solely to steal your attention away from working so much. he means the best— really!

as much as it is tempting, kazuha wouldn’t dare make you upset at him for ruining your papers. instead, he’ll patiently wait and continue softly humming and kissing your neck until you finish. he’d wait for as long as you wish, if it only meant you’d eventually hold him in your arms at the end.

he hears you sigh a few minutes later. “ah… i think that should be it.”

he watches in anticipation as you put your research on the nightstand and turn to face him, a soft smile on your face as you apologize. “sorry, love.”

kazuha simply shakes his head as he brings you in closer, kissing your lips in earnest.

“xiao?” you call out, a little bit of a stutter coming out at the end. it was absolutely freezing out here. it was a good thing you brought a jacket, but even then.

you felt a breeze behind you as you turned to face the beloved adepti materializing out of nowhere.

the smile you wore quickly changed as you panicked seeing what he was wearing. reaching for your coat buttons, you cut off whatever he was about to say with, “are you crazy?! you’ll die of hypothermia wearing that in this weather! oh my gosh, xiao—”

“it’s really—” he tries to make a sentence again, only to be shut off by you wrapping your piece of clothing around his shoulders, directing his arms to go through the sleeves.

although he was used to this sort of cold weather, he appreciated the thought. but the odd warm fuzzy feelings that usually overtook his chest whenever you did something kind for him didn’t fully spread this time around, seeing that your sleeveless top and thin enough pants barely sheltered you at all from the snow starting to come down.

it was his turn to reprimand you as he sighed, “you’re calling me crazy, and yet you’re the one wearing a sleeveless shirt in the middle of one of our coldest periods. what were you thinking?”

despite him looking annoyed, he came towards you and swiftly picked you up bridal style, earning a small yelp as you were swept off your feet (literally) and teleported over to wangshu inn.

you quickly got over the initial shock, a smile returning to your lips. “y’know, that’s technically qualified as kidnapping.”

“shut up.” he responded, although with no malicious hint in his voice. he made sure to kiss you afterwards though, just for some extra warming up.

scaramouche hates you, he swears. he hates you (affectionately), he hates you (lovingly), he hates you (with absolutely no hate behind his words).

but, let’s be honest, he really doesn’t.

he loves you so badly it hurts. it hurts to think that one day, you might leave him like everyone else has. even after everything, even after he got rid of his name scaramouche, sometimes those seeds of doubt still manage to plague him, even though you’ve been with him through it all. damn his stupid past.

but, oh. the way those seeds get crushed under the weight of his non-existent heart expanding as you hug him tightly, your arms squeezing him unlike a thing but a human.

he holds back his tears as he lets himself be held by you, his own arms holding you just as tight as he leaves a kiss, albeit shaky, on your jaw.

when you rub his back comfortingly, he lets the smallest tear run down his porcelain face before burying his head into your collarbone, letting the rest fall as he recites his feelings; true and sincere.

vulnerable is a word you’d describe him as in this moment. though he’ll never admit that this scene happened afterwards, you know that he knows that whenever he’s in need of some love and affection, you’ll be there for him.

he loves you so, so much; mean words be damned.

tighnari, always so caring and hardworking. but it wouldn’t kill him to take a break once in a while, no?

“i swear, i will go into the forest and get one of those mushrooms that you’ve been so cautious around and shove it down your throat if you don’t stop working right now,” you threaten, even if from your ears it sounds empty.

he sighs in return, knowing that you wouldn’t go to sleep until he joined you. especially since he’s been skipping out these past few days. he got up a bit too quickly, wincing at the way his head spun when doing so. “fine, fine. archons, my head hurts…”

“that’s what happens,” you shrug, taking his hands and walking to the bed. he sits with you, blinking the heaviness of his eyes away as you suddenly hug him.

tighnari exhales at the feeling, he should really thank you for saving him from his continuous workloads…

you scratch behind his ears, watching his tail twitch before swishing lowly back and forth. he embraces you back, his eyes coming to a pleasant close. he really needs the sleep.

before he does get the rest; though, he mutters to you a quiet, “thank you, love you s‘much.”

and finally, he drifts off, you in his arms. what more could he ask for?

what a stoic guy that cyno is. and with the absolute worst jokes leaving his mouth, it’s a wonder that the two personalities living in his body are residing in the same person.

he’s telling you jokes as you’re cuddling with him, you mindlessly running your hands through his hair and commenting on his words as he tells them and explains if you don’t get it.

oh, and you’re doing a try not to laugh challenge. did i mention that cyno’s jokes are like, collectively the worst?

he has one goal in mind: tell a good enough joke to hear you laugh and claim victory.

he likes hearing you genuinely laugh. he likes the sound. he likes the swell of pride whenever you laugh because of him.

so as he dishes out one of his newer bests and awaits your judgement, he’s happily surprised hearing a small noise from you before turning into a full chuckle.

he doesn’t think he’s ever had the urge to hug you as tightly as he has now (okay okay, this is a lie. it’s on par with when he confessed and you agreed and the other times you’ve laughed at his jokes).

“cyno— you’re gonna break my ribs!…”

“this is my reward.”

“kaeya… go get some rest. you’re too drunk to be up right now.”

“i don’t wanna. i want to stay with you,” he says, emphasizing it by hugging you tighter. he’s behind you, his form practically towering over yours as you try to keep your composure.

he must’ve really drunk a lot tonight.

you sigh. “i'll be there soon, okay? i just have to finish—”

“you can do whatever—” he hiccups, “—it is tomorrow.”

you sigh again. first you had to pick him up from the tavern, already interrupting what you had planned tonight. now this.

however, you know it’s not really a complaint.

you’re glad he’s honest when drunk. you just can’t stop that warm feeling in your chest knowing that he genuinely wants you to himself.

well, might as well give him what he wants.

diluc can feel your hands around him as he’s busy scrubbing glasses, already having refused you four times in wanting to help him. not because he thinks you’re incapable of not breaking anything— just the opposite, actually— but he doesn’t want you to work because of him.

especially with all the work you’ve already had today. on second thought, you may break a glass from dozing off for a moment from the lack of sleep you’ve been getting. he thinks it’s better for you to rest as he’s doing his job.

he’s not moving much, thankfully. the tavern’s already closed, and it’s just you and him in there. he’s thinking about all the different ways he could carry you home in your half asleep state.

last cup done. finally, he can close up and go home with you and sleep soundly with you in his arms… yeah, that sounds good.

he turns slowly to face you, making your head raise to meet his eyes. you smile, albeit tiredly— but not failing to bring one of his own to diluc’s face nonetheless.

he kisses your lips softly. “let’s go home now.”

©️kazusys — 1/9/24; do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Do You Love?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader

Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.

When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder. 

It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes. 

From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.

—

Reader POV

He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.

Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?

But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it. 

But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?

Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.

--

Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest. 

Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.

“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”

His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.

Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”

Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open. 

“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. 

You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real. 

Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier. 

Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you. 

Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.

“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes. 

“In my nightmares.”

His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?” 

You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”

“Why?”

“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”

Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”

Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat. 

“I love you,” he tells you.

Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”

---

tag: @avidreader73

[propertyofwicked]

CAUGHT - LN

summary - sneaking around finally catches up to lando and his best friends little sister

warnings: smut at the very beginning, angst + swearing but fluff!! (fewtrell!reader)

part 3 to first and quiet

masterlist the playlist

“we really need to stop meeting like this,” lando grunted breathlessly, his thrusts never faltering as he bent y/n over the bathroom sink once more.

“maybe try not being so famous and recognisable and we could go on a date? to a restaurant?” y/n panted in response, hips rolling into lando’s tight grip on her waist, “like normal people?”

“but that would spoil the fun,” lando whined jokingly, “besides, if everyone knew about us, we’d have to start fucking in normal places. i don’t know about you but something about this bathroom really does it for me,” he added with a smirk, catching her eyes in the mirror.

“the toothpaste splatter real- fuck,” she started, cut off by the moan wrangling from her throat as lando pushed his length deeper, the pressure of the cold, bathroom counter pushing on her stomach, “keep going, fuck.”

“so good f’me, baby,” lando replied, feeling the way her walls tightened around him as he praised her, “all mi-”

“y/n? are you home?” max called out from the bottom of the stairs, sliding off his shoes.

“fuck sake,” lando groaned, stilling his hips but leaving his cock pressed deep inside of her, “i hate your brother.”

“y-yeah! i’m just….having a shower?” she called out in response before pushing herself up, pressing her back to lando’s chest before whispering, “no you don't. you do, however, need to get out of here without him seeing you.”

“have you seen lando?” max shouted again.

yes, he’s right here and he was very close to bringing me to orgasm, y/n internally grumbled as lando removed himself from her, finding his clothes quickly and tugging them on in a hurry.

“erm, not recently, no!” she replied, wincing slightly at the way her voice stuttered with the lie, her eyes making direct contact with the man in question. his arm reached around her, leaning into the shower and switching the dial quickly, spatters of water landing on his arm as he quickly retracted it.

“right you,” lando started, hands coming to hold her jaw, “shower. i’ll see you later,” he added, pushing her towards the shower, but not before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, his heart softening at the sight of her eyes slowly closing in his embrace. he walked to the door, slowly prising it open as he peered through the gap, checking the coast was clear. nodding to himself at the empty hallway, he made a run for it, trying to walk in a way that exuded casual, but with some speed in his step.

had he only looked harder, he may have noticed his best friend stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching as he crept his way out of the bathroom.

y/n stepped into the shower, turning on the water just enough to create some steam. she wasn't really there to get clean; she needed a moment to compose herself and keep up the pretence that she was, in fact, taking a shower. she ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the cool droplets against her skin, and sighed.

and as she entered the kitchen, now with convincingly damp hair, y/n saw max sitting at the kitchen island, staring at the wall. his jaw was clenched tight, but every so often, his face would droop in confusion. he looked like he was trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.

"hey, max," y/n said casually, trying to keep her voice light, "what do you want for dinner tonight?"

max didn't respond immediately. he continued to stare at the wall, his fingers drumming lightly on the counter. finally, he turned his head slowly to look at her.

"why did you say you hadn't seen lando recently," he started, his voice strained, "when he literally walked out of the bathroom you were in? i know your eyesight's not great, but i think even stevie wonder would notice a literal human being stood in the bathroom with him."

y/n's heart skipped a beat. she hadn't expected him to put it together so quickly. "max, i can explain..."

max interrupted, standing up and pacing. "i just don't get it. why would you lie about something like that? why was lando in there with you?"

y/n took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "i didn't mean to lie, max. it's just... complicated."

"complicated?" max echoed, stopping to face her. "you call sneaking around with my best friend complicated?"

"yes, it's complicated," y/n said, her voice rising slightly. "because i didn't know how to tell you without you freaking out like this."

"freaking out?" max said, throwing his hands in the air. "you think this is freaking out? i'm just trying to understand why my sister and my best friend have been hiding this from me. whatever this is."

“max, i-” lando started, emerging from the doorway from where he’d been listening in.

“and you? of all people, you?” max argued, directing his anger at lando, “how did i piss you off that badly that you decide to fuck my little sister for revenge?”

“it’s not like that, we-”

“have you had sex with my sister?” max interrupted bluntly.

“well yes, bu-”

“how long?” max asked, turning to his sister for an answer.

“i’d say 6 and half inc-”

“how long have you been seeing each other, y/n?”

“3 months? 4?” she conceded, allowing her attempt of lightening the situation to wash over, ”and may i just say - insinuating that all i’m good for is a revenge shag? thank you so much for that,” she added sarcastically, smiling at him with no happiness behind it.

“are you serious? 4 months? lando? couldn't you have picked someone else?" max continued to argue, refusing to allow the guilt of his insulting comment to weigh on him in this moment, “literally, anyone else?”

“ouch,” lando commented, looking to the ceiling to avoid the awkwardness in the room, narrowly avoiding the daggers being shot at him from max’s stare.

“well maybe i would’ve if you hadn’t threatened anyone who tried,” y/n sighed, sick of his attitude, “is it that hard for you to just be happy for me? truly, would it kill you?”

“it might,” lando added.

“why didn’t you tell me?” max asked, looking to his sister as his voice lowered for the first time since she’d stepped into the kitchen.

"oh, sure, let me just check with you next time i develop feelings for someone. you don't get to control my life,” y/n rolled her eyes - max may be calming down, but she was just getting started.

“i care about her, max,” lando interrupted, trying to control the situation as he noticed the way y/n’s hands balled into fists against the worktop, “and i didn't want to hurt you or make things awkward between us. it was my idea not to tell you, ‘cos i didn’t know how.”

“we didn't want to cause any drama."

"too late for that," max muttered.

“clearly,” y/n responded bluntly, turning on her heel and heading towards the door as she stormed off in anger. but before she could leave, lando caught her, his grip firm but gentle.

"y/n, wait," he said softly, turning her back to face max. y/n felt lando's hands stay on her hips, rubbing gentle circles into her skin to calm her down. she relaxed slightly but kept her gaze fixed on max.

“i'm sorry for how you found out, but you have to understand that i'm capable of making my own decisions,” y/n said, her voice steady but still tinged with frustration, "finding out your own brother is the reason you have felt so alone for years is not a pleasant feeling, max.”

“it was for your own good.”

“my own good?” she scoffed, feeling the anger rise in her chest again, “for the sake of your own good i suggest you leave right now.”

“this is my house? i live here?”

“yeah? and if you don’t leave now you’re also going to die here,” she gritted, feeling lando’s fingertips press into her skin as a warning that maybe she maybe shouldn’t be so aggressive.

“fine,” max muttered, walking past the two of them and swiftly grabbing his shoes and coat before leaving the house, letting the door slam behind him.

y/n stood frozen for a moment, staring at the closed door. the weight of the situation finally caught up with her, and she felt her composure slipping, her shoulders shaking as the first tears began to fall.

lando was by her side in an instant, turning her round and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. "it's okay, baby," he murmured, rubbing her back in soothing circles, "let it out."

the dam broke, and y/n let herself cry, all the anger, exhaustion, and frustration pouring out in a torrent of tears. she clung to lando, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as she sobbed into his chest. lando held her close, whispering comforting words and continuing to rub her back.

after what felt like an eternity, y/n's sobs began to subside. she pulled back slightly, her face tear-streaked and red. she looked up at lando, her eyes filled with regret.

"we should've been more careful," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"no, y/n,” lando shook his head, his expression firm, “your brother should be less of a dick. this is your life, you live it how you want to, and if he can't handle that, then that's his own burden to bear."

y/n sniffled, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. "but he's my brother. i don't want to lose him over this."

"you won't," lando assured her, his hands cupping her face gently. "he's just shocked right now. he'll come around. but that doesn't mean we should regret being together."

y/n nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "you're right. i'm just... so tired of all this."

"i know," lando said softly, pulling her back into his embrace. "but we'll get through it."

they stood like that for a while, the quiet of the house enveloping them. y/n felt the last of her tears dry up, replaced by a renewed sense of determination.

“i’m proud of you, y’know,” lando started, causing y/n to pull back slightly to look up at him again.

“why?”

“you stood up for yourself,” he smiled, “in all the years i’ve known you, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you stand up for yourself - not even to max. that’s why.”

“thank you,” she mumbled, before grinning at him, “turns out getting fucked daily fills me with confidence - not just cock.”

[stxrslut]

cw : based on this, severe hunger, reader taking care of jj, mentions of struggles with money, kook!reader. this blurb obviously contains sensitive topics, I stress that this is in no way to make fun of or undermine these struggles, I know first hand how bad it can get. this is simply something I imagined, and wish to share.

“jj you’re shakin’,” you note, looking up from your positon against his chest, “whats wrong?” you ask.

he looks down, eyes half lidded, “huh? didn’t catch that baby.” he murmurs, words almost slurred together. you furrow your eyebrows. soemthing is wrong.

“I said you’re shakin’,” you repeat, “you don’t look too good either.” you frown, sitting up now and reaching to feel his forehead. “when was the last time you ate?”you inquire, not quite expecting the answer.

he shrugs, “couple days ago.. dunno, maybe last week.” he murmurs, trying to lay back down. you can’t help but let out a little gasp.

“jj.. it’s thursday.”you stress, face all twisted in concern for your boyfriend who is clearly starving.

he frowns, “yeah, what about it?” he speaks, tone becoming irritable. though you can’t bring yourself to be mad, you’re just worried.

“if you haven’t eaten since last week that means its been at least four days,” you look down, he doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned for himself. “that isnt healthy jayj, why haven’t you eaten?”

“take a wild guess sweetheart,” he sarks, “or even better, take one look in the cupboards. you think i starve myself for fun?” he raises an eyebrow, letting out another irritated sigh when you don’t answer.

“I told you to just ask me if you needed money, you can’t just go without food!” you speak exasperatedly, he always does this, refuses to let you give him anything under the pretenses of not wanting to be a 'charity case'.

“don’t need your pity money, f’you wanna do all that fuss ‘bout what’s healthy n’ what’s not then you can leave, m’tired enough as it is.” he speaks, again in that annoyed spitting tone, but you can’t blame him. he must be uncomfortable.

you huff and stand up, knowing he won’t listen right now. you turn to leave, “ill see you later jj.” you speak before going out the door.

he might have thought ‘later’ meant in a few days, but no, you’re going back today. you just have some stuff you need to do first.

you know jj has the means to cook food, and you know he has the means to store it too. he just doesn’t have the actual food. your plan is to go and cook up batches of as much you can, stock up his freezer enough to last him if he needs to go without food again. maybe he won’t take your money, but you’re not going to let him refuse this.

once you’re home you spend hours cooking. you make easy comfort meals like soups and stews. you prepare pasta sauces and some pastry pies. a couple of sweet treats as well. once you’re done theres enough food to last him at least a month by itself.

you pack everything into containers, all ready to store in the freezer. you put a few portions of rice and sauce aside, knowing he’ll need to eat plenty tonight, and that it might take him a few tries to be able to keep it down.

you show up to his house late. when he opens the door to see you he huffs out of irritation, already guessing what it is, “told you not to go buyin’ me stuff.”

you frown, letting yourself in, “didn’t buy it, I made it.” you smile, placing the bags of food up on the counter. but he doesn’t speak. “c'mon jj,” you sigh, “you know I don’t think you’re a charity case, I just want you to be healthy.”

he sighs, “i know you do... just feels like too much y’know, like i dont deserve all this.” he looks down as he gestures towards the food, speaking quietly, self conciously.

“jj,” you frown, “this isn’t special treatment baby, this is basic human needs. of course you deserve food, everyone deserves food.” you come up to him to give him a hug. “don’t ever wanna hear you sayin’ you dont deserve this.”

jj chuckles shakily, finally returning your caring touch, “what would I ever do without you huh?”

[koishiro]

# - 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Toji Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki, Kento Nanami

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

Satoru Gojo

Gojo has no shame, you should know this. It’s no surprise to anyone when they see the jujutsu teacher just waltz over in his usual long strides and (quite aggressively) places his head on your lap. And if you ignore him? Ohohoho he’d be a menace. From nudging his head on your stomach, to biting the soft plush of your thighs, all for you to run your fingers through his hair.

He enjoys laying on your thighs a little too much since he literally won't get up even if you have to go do something important.

“Satu, I have to get up”

“‘M? Later”

“Don’t you have a class to teach?”

“They can wait”

Suguru Geto

Suguru would be slightly more subtle than Gojo, but still pretty affectionate. You’d often find him reading a book or two later followed by a complaint of how stiff and achy his back and neck were which led you to now, sitting down on your shared couch and contentedly scrolling through your phone until you felt an unfamiliar weight weigh down on your lap.

Temporarily turning your attention to the man now taking place on your lap, a book in one hand while the other absentmindedly toyed with the fabric of your shirt, you stared at him for a moment until your burning gaze tore his attention away from his book, as if you were the one to invade his personal bubble.

“Hm? Yes darling? Are you not considering the pain and backache I’ve been going through for this book? Have some sympathy, I thought this would be better for my posture.”

Yuji Itadori

This boy would be so oblivious, not even realising the effect he had on you. He would be in the middle of talking about Human Earthworm 4 and would first start to lean his body weight on your shoulder before gradually moving down to your lap, even going as far as to readjust you and your position just like a pillow.

It would only occur to him what position he’s actually in when his one sided conversation starts to die off, now realising how his head and hands are tucked between your plush thighs - skin on skin contact.

“O-Oh uhm - I’m so sorry!

Megumi Fushiguro

Don’t expect this to ever happen in public but in the privacy of your own home? Megumi would be severely more touchy when he’s tired so when he’s exhausted? He’ll have no shame. Dragging his feet through the threshold of his dorm, his bag being dragged not too far behind he makes a beeline towards his bed where the outline of non other than his lover was hidden beneath the covers.

Leaving his bag behind, Megumi navigates his way towards the warmth of your body before toeing off his shoes and slipping his way between your legs, arms tucked beneath the plush of your thighs. Asking about his day you had to strain your ears to hear his response

“‘missed you. Wanted to come home earlier but Gojo was an ass. R’lly missed your warmth.”

Toji Fushiguro

This man has no shame. If you’d be sitting a centimetre too far for his liking you best know he’s gonna clamp his large hands down on you and drag you to where he likes. He’d even go as far as to lift your legs over his own thighs and (like a cat) paw at the skin of your thighs.

So when you happen to pass by his chair while he’s in the middle of a slightly less than exciting conversation he was having with a name he couldn’t even remember of course his first instinct is to reach out and pull you down, caging you between his two arms - his hands nicely warmed between your two thighs before they ventured and groped at any available skin.

“Stay nice ‘n pretty f’me kay? Don’t wanna make this guy uncomfortable do ya? ‘N keep your pretty mewls to yaself until we get home hm?”

Toge Inumaki

Bby boy just wants to be comforted okay? Is that too much to ask for? He’d already be so comfortable around you that he wouldn’t think twice about what he was doing.

You both could be lying down outside, one or both reading a book and after a while of resting in the same spot for hours on end he’d struggle to find a comfortable spot and the next best thing to a patch of grass? His lover of course. Toge would slowly shift his way towards you so you’d end up as a mesh of bodies resembling a ‘T’. A few squeezes to your thighs every now and then followed by a series of onigri ingredients,

“I should do this more often, you’re much more comfy than any pillow I’ve owned. My own portable neck pillow.”

Kento Nanami

This wouldn’t happen often at the start of your relationship with Kento considering he’s never had to (quite literally) lean on anyone before but it never bothered you, you knew before you threw yourself into the relationship that he’d take some time to warm up and you were right because slowly after months of quick pecks and fleeting touches - the unfamiliar weight of your boyfriends head leaned on your shoulder. The tired eyes and dark bags beneath his eyes said all you needed to know.

“Tired?” With a grunt of agreement, clearly too tired to even lift his head, you lead him down to rest on your lap where he stayed without complaint until hours later when the sun shone through the living room curtains and the blanket you managed to reach and place over top you both before swiftly joining him lay on the floor long forgotten. Nanami would all but bury his face deeper between your thighs - chasing the warmth they emanated while his hands found closure beneath them.

“Please, don’t move. At least not yet.”

[deaconusdelirium]

ᰔᩚ Older bf!Simon indulging his kid at heart

-

Simon never really minded the fact that his childhood was stripped from him, it happened, it’s over, what can he do about it? Nothing. Best move on to more important things. He thinks about it, but it no longer effects him. He’s human, so at some point he’s going to watch a kid play to their hearts content like it was a foreign thing to him

Simon who raises a brow at every little thing you do when he finally starts to love you. Watching you stare at the toy section a little too long before picking out a coloring book and even longer at the crayon section. The basket in the crook of his elbow as he crossed his arms.

“What’s the difference, luvie? They all color the same” he huffed quietly, earning a soft glare in return. “Oh hush, they’re not the same. See? These ones are pastels, these ones have glitter, this one has forty colors-” you go on as he rolls his eyes and stares off down the aisle. His attention immediately being brought back as you all of a sudden stop. Then he seen what you were eyeing. The colored pencils. He looked at them and then at you before sighing and walking over. Grabbing them and show them to you. “What’s the deal with this one?” He asks, trying to find the difference yet again between the crayons and then pencils. You step forward and then smile almost sadly. “I’ve never really had colored pencils, always seen them but my parents told me they’d go in the trash one way or another” you replied. He didn’t even think twice before putting them in the basket

Simon who watches you later on that night color in the first page that stands out to you. Seeing you color outside the lines but never really seeming to mind. “Inside the lines, darlin” he mumbled as he laid in bed. One arm propping him up as you laughed softly, “oh hush, leave me alone. I like it” you smiled, “you like it messy?” He asked, “well… when you put it that way it sounds sloppy. But everyone always got mad that I colored outside the lines. Found being too perfect was always boring and never really fun. But I like this” you leaned back, looking at the paper as he nodded. Picking up a pencil and then gave a small scribble to the paper.

Simon who finds comfort in walking beside you down a sidewalk. At first he was confused, one second you both were walking and the next he was yanked back, “what’s wrong?” He looked around for any sign of trouble, then looked down at you, realizing you were counting your steps in the large rectangles in the concrete. “I stepped four steps in the last block, if I take another step, this one will be five” you muttered. Deciding not to question it, he picked you up, setting you in the next block and started walking along side you again. Now every time you walk together, he counts how many steps you take in each one, stopping and waiting for you if you need to jump a little or if you mess up your numbers, “you’re at three, luv”

Simon who pretty much never questions anything you do anymore, you want something? He’ll get it for you. Even if it’s a little bottle of bubbles, he’ll grab an extra bottle just so that if you ever run out, you’ll have another. He won’t admit it, but likes seeing which bubble will last the longest before popping

Simon who goes shopping with you and helps you pick out a stuffed animal, which turns into stuffed animals. “Oh- look at this one Si, this one’s a seal” you picked up a chunky looking stuffed animal. Giving a squish before holding it out to Simon, who gives a squish and then takes it into his large calloused hands. Scrunching it a few times and lays his head on it, then nods. Looking at the others, “look at this one, babe, it’s a shrimp” he chuckles, picking it up and showing you. A smile blossoming on your face as you grab it. You both going home with stuffed animals of your own, who later get turned into cuddle buddies. Sedrick the Shrimp and Samuel the Seal

Simon who will bring you your favorite lunch with a nice drink on the side to your work. Walking in pass the reception desk and into your office, seeing that you’re on a call, he holds your food so he can personally give it to you as he walks around the place. Mindlessly playing with a few little trinkets you got lying around. He puts the bag of food between his chest and arm, the drink in his hand while his other squeezes the chicken stress ball. Giving a small chuckle as its eyes pop out with every squeeze. Then he finds another little toy. A crane of sort that has a string attached to the tip that’s holding a ring at the end. A small hook on the beam as he tries to get the ring onto the hook. Giving a quiet “yes” as he finally gets it. Then hands your food over with a kiss when you’re done

Simon who stays up with you one night, not having to worry about waking up early for work. So he has you get up, telling you he’s hungry and that he wants to get something to eat. Then when you tell him you have to get ready. He protests, pulling your hand and tells you that he’s not going out to impress anyone and that he’d rather you be comfortable than walking around fully dressed with your clothes you wanted to wear tomorrow, just to get fast food. Tells you that he feels better when you feel good. Both of you don’t have to worry about the burdens of adult life that early morning

Simon who goes to the Lego section with you- well, more like he drags you to the Lego aisle. Telling you that he likes this one he seen a few days ago. Pretends to look for it when he made it up as an excuse so you two could actually look for something to build together. “Look at this one love, it’s a picture frame” he holds up a box, showing you. “I like that one, but I also like this camera one” you also hold up the box, he looks between the two. Eyes darting to the side before something catches his eye. “Baby, look. These are bracelets, you put little legos on them”. He immediately grabs the box, dropping them all into the cart, not even minding the price it’ll come out to. “We should look at the friendship bracelets” he buys you the bracelets anyways, going home and building the legos together, putting a Polaroid of you two beneath the camera one. Putting a picture in the picture frame one, and you both wearing the lego bracelets

Simon who picks out baby clothes, not boring bland pink or blue ones. No, those are too cliche, no, he wants something that will make those beautiful eyes he knows your little baby have, pop out. Even if he has to special order a few clothes and blankets, he’ll do it. Little onesies that have pictures of Sedrick and Samuel that were obviously custom made by the best and most liked shop.

Simon who signs your little one up for whatever their heart desires. They want to try soccer? He’s going to buy them a small goal and a ball so they can practice in the backyard of your home. They see an event coming into town and they want to go? He’s more than willing to take them. They want money for a book fair? He knows the teachers are assholes so he waits until they get home so he can go back with them. Helping them pick out whatever their little heart wants. Erasers, book marks, little toys, it’s all theirs. They want extra cuddles for the heck of it? He’s bringing you down with the two of them.

Simon who ends up healing his childhood through you and his kid. Even if he was a little embarrassed about it all in the beginning, he realized that he’d rather make memories than skip them being shy and hurting you and your kids’ feelings.

(He totally has his own stash of toys and his own coloring books he’s accumulated over the years he’s known you. He even has his own blankets with hero’s and stuffed animals of his own) ᰔᩚ

-

not really proof read, but you get the idea. Just had this in my head for a bit