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mrs-hwangh · 9 months ago

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a boxers heart.

chapter one

Kim Geonwoo x Fem!Reader

Summary: one day was enough to change your lifes forever. Geonwoo is your best friend, you help his mother with her coffee shop and became part of a legendary trio with Geonwoo and Woojin. However.. nothing will ever be the same again after the Smile Company entered your lifes.

wc: 2.1k

an: the story will follow the dramas events. Adjustments were made to include our character into the storyline.. other then that.. watch the two characters fall in love with each other ✨️

Enjoy

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He strikes again! Kim Geon-woo landed a fatal blow on Hong Woo-jins side! Sending him directly on the floor once more!

Will he stand up again just like he did earlier? It definetly does not look like this.

And three! two! one!

We have our winner! Kim Geon-woo won the tournament with an outstanding performance!

This year was truly something else. The pandemic hitting us out from the blue, causing for endless troubles.. These young men however proved us that the struggles we faced, still wanting to organize this grand show off, all of our hard work for making it work.. everything payed off!

We are proud to announce this years winner and to honor every other contestant who took part.

And let's not forget Hong Woo-jin! This finale was special because both of these young men went over their limits to decide the title of this years winner!

Now, have fun and enjoy your time!

Ladies and Gentleman, we'll hopefully meet again on the next years tournament!

The commentators praised the two while the cameraman focused on sharing close ups of the said fighters.

"He won! My Geonwoo won!"

His mothers melodic voice ringed through her small coffee shop, the small Samsung screen showing the broadcast.

"He's the best!"

You joined her cheering, engulfing her into a hug since she awaited you with open arms.

"I'm so proud of him!!"

His mother was the biggest sweetheart anyone could imagine. She truly loved her son and did everything in her power to ensure him a safer future.

You helped her once when she was cleaning up her store on her own.

Other then Geonwoo sometimes, she has no employees helping her to run the shop.. so you decided to offer your help.

It wasn't something you felt obliged to do, you just did it because you enjoyed helping others in general.

Ever since then, you decided to head over her shop to help her with everything, you didn't take money since you were payed well from another job you did sometimes.

With art.

Commissions payed you great.. this was more then enough for you to work for her for free.

"Do you want to head over? I can take over the shift until you return"

You offered but she was quick to decline.

"Thank you but I will stay here, what about you going to see him? I'm sure that it'd make him happy"

She offered you a warm smile.

... should I?

"Are you sure?"

His mother quikly nodded and pointed at the door.

"Enjoy his win together, make this day even more special as it already is!"

You were pushed out of the coffee shop with a gentle push.

She smiled at you as you waved her goodbye.

Now... where would he go after such a big win..

...

Time passed and you decided to just call him, finding him would be impossible otherwise.

'Hey y/n!'

"Congrats woo! You did it!!!"

'Thank you!'

You could hear his chuckle from the other side of the line, but there was another voice

'Hey who is that?'

The second voice was the one of a male, he had company..

"Am I interrupting right now...?"

'No, why? Did something happen?'

'Geonwoo who is this? Is this a girl??'

'Damnit Woojin!'

He whisper yelled that but you had to admit that it was funny.

"No, no don't worry everything is fine.. I just thought of meeting up with you to celebrate your win.. but I don't want to eh.."

'aaaa now I get why you asked me if you were interrupting earlier- No no, do not worry over this, I actually want to introduce you to someone! I'll send you our location, we'd be very happy to celebrate it together, with you!'

You could literally visually imagine his smile as he spoke. Your heart fluttered whenever he spoke.. whenever he smiled.. whenever he talked with you

He may be a boxer, but oh was he pure hearted. If politeness was a person, it'd be him. You need help? He's there. You need a shoulder to lean on? He'll stay by your side until the worst is over.

I'd love to meet him! I'll hurry over!!!

'Whoa whoa! That smil-'

Geonwoo hung up and you made your way to the location he had sent you.

They were eating. Perfect. You'd kill for a good meal now.

"Who was this?? Ohhh man you looked so happy!"

Geonwoo brought his hand to his forehead, resting it while he fought the urge of gifting him a second experience of their fight earlier today.

"A good friend of mine"

But Woojin didn't buy that.. not that easily.

"Yeah yeah.. let's believe that"

He smirked at him while taking the claw to turn the meat around.

Geonwoo was quick to snap it out of his hand.

"Not yet"

Woojin was left confused.

"... what? Hey I'm older, show me some respect"

"But they are not ready"

"I'm hungry."

"They need another minute. At least."

The hungry man wanted to say something but the doors bell interrupted his thoughts.

A girl entered the scene. She looked over the desks until her eyes met his.

"It's her.. from the call?"

Geonwoo nodded. He waved her over as he stood up to greet her and she sprinted towards him.

"Look who showed u-"

"Congrats to our champion!!!"

You jumped at him and hugged him real tight. He was taken aback but swung his arms around you immediately. He chuckled at your action and tightened his grip on you, spinning you around while thanking you. He put you on the ground again after the final spin and that was when you spotted the other man.

Wasn't he his opponent..?

"Let me introduce you to Woojin. Woojin, this is y/n and y/n this is Hong Woojin. We fought earlier at the arena"

You greeted him and complimented him on his fighting skills aswell.

"It's a pleasure to meet you y/n, and thank you"

Geonwoo and you sat down and looked at the meat.

"I think it's ready, you could turn it around no?"

Geonwoo took the claw again and turned the meat, leaving Woojin speechless.

"You disobeyed me when I asked you to do it!"

"It wasn't ready earlier"

"It was!"

"No"

"But-"

"It still needed some time, you see there is a me-"

"That's not fair!"

"It is"

"Okay, cut them now!"

"No"

"Why?!"

"They're not ready yet"

"They are!"

You sat there trying not to laugh, it was funny enough that that Woojin guy tried to make Geonwoo serve that meat while it was clearly not ready.

The trio sat there in silence until you spoke up.

"I think you can cut it now"

"Oh yes it's perfect"

Geonwoo took the scissor and cut the pieces.

Woojin.. well he let his head fall dramatically on the desk, whining that his marine comrad ignored him.

"The world has got to be kidding me"

".. is honesty really that bad?"

Woojin shot his head up and looked at Geonwoos eyes.

"You know what. Let's move on."

You and Geonwoo erupted into a heartfilled laughter and Woojin joined you soon enough.

"Let's raise a toast to the best boxers!!"

"Thank you!"

Said the two in unison as everyone prepared their bites to enjoy their meal after the great day.

"How did you actually meet? Was it after the tournament or during it?"

You were curious, Geonwoo never mentioned Woojin before after all.

"He waited at the hall asking each of his victims to go and eat with him."

Woojin said, side eyeing your friend.

"I thought that he was fooling me at first but he was serious about that" "Ahh yes that sounds like him"

You looked over and lightly hit Geonwoos shoulder.

"I'm glad you asked him, he seems like a fun guy"

Woojin felt a sense of pride as your words left your mouth, grinning widely.

"How did you actually meet Geonwoo?

"Well.. I came across his mother's coffee shop and I help her out ever since then. He happened to enter the shop while I was refilling something. Which was kinda funny because he thought that I was stealing something and oh did he get mad"

"He? Mad??"

Woojin may have only met him today but that.. that guy was more then honest and polite throughout the whole day.. him and mad didn't feel right in the same sentence.

"Oh yes."

You stood up, took a stable stance and mimicked Geonwoos face.

"Who the hell are you?"

Geonwoos eyes widened. Your voice was lower, you did something with your face that did not look like him at all.

"It wasn't that ba-"

"Answer now or I'll call the police"

Woojin nearly choked on his glass of water when you tried to copy his voice.

"Okay but be honest! How would you've reacted if a stranger was roaming freely in your mothers shop?!"

Geonwoo stood up for his defense, attacking your sides while he tickled the hell out of you.

"Wait wait w- sto-op!"

Your laughter filled the place as you tried to free yourself of his attack.

"No."

"Geonwoo!"

He continued his merciless attack until you were both gasping for air. He because he couldn't get over his laughter and you because of the tickling.

"I am feeling like a third wheeler right now"

Woojin put a fake pout and you literally became breathless.

"Woo please-"

"Okay, you shall be forgiven"

"Thank you for your mercy, your majesty"

This is how the whole afternoon went by, you three bonding with each other, exchanging stories and experiences while the restaurants owner regretted their life's choices.

What nobody of you all knew was the sudden visitor.. a man dressed in a suit.. visiting Geonwoos mothers coffee shop to offer her a deal.

It seemed too good to be good, a startup company offering to help the ones in need?

"Thank you so much sir"

"She signed the paper and gave it to the man."

"I have to thank you miss"

"Woojin.. are these original?"

Geonwoo pointed at Woojins shoes, your gaze followed his finger as you spotted the said shoe.

But.. it does look fake.. no?

"Yes. 1.2 Million won"

Geonwoos eyes widened at this.

"What?! That's the rent of our coffee shop!"

Woojin chuckled and shook his head. Your friend looked at you in disbelief.

"Did you hear that??"

You nodded but waited for Woojin to say something..

"Bro.. these are fake"

Thank god.

Geonwoo was relieved upon hearing that.

"It's obvious if you look at the cap, it's shinier. The true ones don't.."

Their voices blended with your surroundings as you took in the scene.

Late night walks weren't rare but this one.. this was somehow special.

The two continued their talk until they realized that you were walking behind them.

"Hey y/n!"

They took a few steps back and swung their arms around you, holding you in their middle.

"You're so small.. we nearly lost you"

Woojin said and you jokingly punched him.

"I'm sorry Mt. Everest"

The three of you continued the chatter as you walked through the streets.

Woojin went to his home at some point leaving you with Geonwoo alone, on your way to the shop.

"Today was quite a handful huh"

You joked, but you had a point.

He won the match, he found a new friend, your trio got created and the restaurant owner now knows about the marines divisions.

"Haha yes.. thank you"

He turned to you, locking your gazes.

"You coming over after the match. It meant alot to me"

"Well.. you're my best friend after all, I'll always be there to support you"

Geonwoo was speechless but his smile was priceless.

"Now let us surprise your mother, I bet she's thrilled to congratulate you on your big day champ"

He nodded and you two arrived at the shop where his mother was. "My Geonwoo! You did it!!"

She sprinted to him and hugged him, really proud of her son. Her eyes then shifted to yours and a warms smile appeared on her face.

"Did you celebrate the win?"

"Yes!! The other fighter.. Hong Woojin was also with us. It was real fun!!"

"I'm glad! Now let's go home everybody"

You three closed the shop and made you way to the apartments.

A black car drove past you as you walked further into the street.

Geonwoo and you looked back at it but the plate was unknown to the both of you.

You turned around again, joining the topic his mother was talking about.

But little did you know that this day would change your life's forever.

#woo do hwan #kim geunwoo #hong woo jin #bloodhounds kdrama #bloodhounds #geonwoo x reader #dohwan x reader #woodohwan x reader #bloodhounds x reader

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that-smallinjured-bowylamb · 2 months ago

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how do you think Riddle, Lilia and Azul would deal with having a wife who is dedicated, sweet, loving and a bit scatterbrained sometimes… but they’re also scary protective, mama bear instincts. Someone hurt her man and she’s gonna end your whole career. . (If they ever have kid together, some fae or human or mer person tries kidnapping their kid, they sneer at the wife and the boys, and wife comes flying in with murderous energy, and scares the shit out of the kidnappers (scared the husbands too). and wife goes over to their kid and hugs them while the kidnappers flee, kid hugs mom, while crying “mama” happily)?

A/n: SRRY FOR THE LATE REPLY I WAS TLAKING WITH SOME OF MY FRIENDS AND COMMENTING ON SOME POST !!! BUT ANYWAYS IVE BEEN DAYDREAMING OF THIS FOR DAYS ON END AND IM SO HAPPY SOMEONE MENTIONED IT !!! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING AGAIN @nesting-dreams !!!

💋🪽Wifey material, but can still kick ass💋🪽

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Lilia Vanrouge [💋🎀], Azul Ashengrotto

Warning ⚠️: slight cussy, Reader could be fem but I'm using "you", reader kicks ass, I'm bad at describing fights helpp, reader taking a slipper and chucks it at a mer (Azul's part), reader does a suplex on somebody (Riddle's part), Reader went full-out on brawling (Lilia's part), OOC bc future, you have a child (scary), and ofc, my Grammer is so indescribably amazing.

Summary: You are a dedicated, sweet, a little bit of a scatterbrained wife. You've sworn to be with him, always and forever, taking responsibility for bearing a child as well, you were such a sweetheart, despite being a little forgetful, he still loves you very much. Oh, and your child as well, "Hehe, silly momma!" [Insert name].

But... what happens if your man/kid gets hurt/kidnapped? Oh, suddenly, those perpetrators are in a boxing ring with you.

Riddle Rosehearts

You and Riddle were a happy married couple, sure you get into quarrels but you've managed to work it out somehow, despite for your scatterbrained-self, you were dedicated and sweet. Slightly protective of him, he didn't really know about that part, really. Especially when you stare into a woman's soul for flirting with him, he didn't take notice at all. So, when he turns around, your there, all sweet and flowery with that cute tendency to forget something or another. He's blushy around you, just like the day he caught feelings for you. And, your child [insert name] really loves you! You're the best momma! So what happens if...

Your man gets hit:

•Riddle was surprised by the sudden punch this guy made. He stood up, wobbling from the sheer impact, pointed his wand (or whatever he could use as a Harry Potter stick)and was ready to say the magic words (Miska, muska! Mickey Mouse!), "Off with your!-" another sudden move. It was you.

•Man's just watched his wife, throwing herself to that man, round-house kicking him, with a straight face. Then suplexing that guy with raw strength.

•He's not sure if he's the wife or nah.

•So, in the end. He has to be the one that stops you from beating the guy to the dirt and turning the guy into a DIY plant (Aye, at least it counts as a breathing organism that you surely took out to harvest).

•He gifted you, [your favorite chocolate in a box and your favorite flowers in a bouquet], [the clothes you've been eyeing out for months in your favorite color], [the food you wanted to try out again bc it was so good], [your favorite limited edition shirt], and lastly the dinner he paid for you.

•...Not before calling the cops on this guy's ass.

When your kid almost got kidnapped:

Listen, you're kid is intelligent, but got SOME of your genetics (Rosehearts blood is strong, damn), the kid was left-handed (<-at least how I picture it, you can imagine smth else, though), smart, and almost mature (<- that is, until you arrive at home and the kid did a 180° switching back to a playful kid), and was almost sweet to every stranger (but gives nasty side-eyes at suitors that tries to flirt w/ you whenever you both go shopping), so imagine to your surprise you see your child being DRAGGED by the arm bc of SOMEBODY (And Riddle is a witness before he could do sht cuz your faster):

Lilia Vanrouge [Hanafubukki PLEASE NOTICE ME 🙏🙏🙏]

•What the fuck. Why does he ALWAYS deliver LATE? And why do you turn into Sonic the Hedgehog whenever something happens?? This, has gotta be from the time you were at NRC weren't you? (Or nah, and it was smth else completely)

•Nvm that. Now he's wondering where you've even learned these things.

• "Mommy!!" Cried [insert name], running straight at you, and you, of course, hugged your child back.

•Man, Riddle loves a good wife that knows how to kick ass. And maybe, he could break the cycle with you.

You and Lilia had a very interesting history together (just imagine with me, okay?) And he could never ask for anything else, when he gets nightmares of the war, you somehow know this, always wake up and stay beside him as long as needed until both of you fall asleep. Always there when he needed help but never spoke aloud about it, and always tending to his needs while he tends to others and yours. You, were his great balance in life, though he never showed the signs he was hurting, maybe it dulled overtime, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. So, you were there, you've helped and that was enough for him. And the two of you had a child, [insert name]. The child took their mischief, playfulness, and maturity from their father. While they've taken your dedication and sweetness from you, of course. But the thing is, you and [insert name] were both forgetful of things. But, don't worry, the three of you can be one, happy, but clumsy of a family. So, when the time some random fuck-ass fae comes to hit/kidnap your man/kid? Nah, I'll win.

When your man gets hit:

•The fae had the audacity to flirt with you, now had enough audacity to hit THE general of Briar Valley? HECKS NAWH. The fact is, either the fae didn't realize it was Lilia or was a drunk. [<-but even so, no one can deal with Vanrouge even if they aren't sober]

•As soon as he was about to retort, you came into his vision...

•And round-house kicking the fae with raw strength, even going as far as to tackle him down, stomp on his crotch, and molly-wap the guy towards the air.

•So, let's do a 2nd marriage but this time he's the bride and you're the groom.

•Hmmmm... That strong ass gorilla-like grip you had there... he's thinking he'll be put into his place if he ever dare to cross you.

•Which, will never happen, of course. (Fortunately.)

•Welp! He's doing the chores this time! Please don't look so stern my dear! You'd get wrinkles if you do! Here, a kiss might help you! *Ignoring the guy who is in a current state of physical and psychological pain.*

What if your kid almost gets kidnapped by a fae?:

Now, I'm not saying your kid might be dumb, but although getting genes from Lilia and all. The kid still has some of your genetic, otherwise, that ain't your kid. So, imagine looking away for 1 millisecond, only to see your kid following a man with candies in his pocket, Lilia had already halted the fae, but that didn't stop you from bolting over.

•When Lilia saw you running over like a mad bull, he knew he had to step aside.

•That fae almost met their creator.

•The fact that your child was encouraging and cheering you on was funny to Lilia. Look at his child, aren't they so cute? Aww! And look!- *You bitch-slapping the fae on the ground.* A strong wife he has! Hah! All of you must be jealous he pulled a baddie. (And totally not trembling in fear)

•So after that, you all went back to being that wholesome family that went out for a very wholesome outing together.

Azul Ashengrotto

To start off, Azul had become a successful shady- business man, you became his wife, then the two of you had a child. Which, uncle Floyd and Jade loved to play with and prank Azul. Oh, but this time? Your genes got HALF of the child and HALF of Azul's. And I'm talking abt appearance. So they kinda looked like you, but in mer version. Not sure if they had your eyes or Azul's eyes bit no matter what, your child has the charm of that of a merfolk from the deep-sea. So what will you do, if your man/kid gets hit/kidnapped?

Your man gets hit:

•In no fucking way did that mer just TAINTED your beautiful husband with that hand.

•So when Azul regains composure and sees you holding a slipper, "Honey... What in the fucking sevens are yoU DOING!?-" *Cue to the slipper at max velocity like it's in a speeding dial to contacting the great sevens up above, then gets CHUCKED at the mer in the face, the air vibrating within vicinity.*

•.... babe, what are you exactly? What if our child has that same strength as you- *Gets interrupted by you hugging him.* "Aww, Zuzu, are you okay? You're not hurt anywhere are you?" ... Yes he's fine, just a little bit shaken... [<-Literally]

•So fast forward to him spoiling you in a way someone gets threatened at gunpoint. It's like your the mafia boss instead of him.

•Yeah, his clients are NOT going to mess with Azul's husband. (Did I say husband? Yes. So is he the wife now? Also yes.)

What if your kid gets kidnapped?:

Your child isn't dumb, nor smart. But your child still has underdeveloped strength, so in comes Azul with his two big-ass blueberry popsicle giants. But before they could do anything, a terrifying aura comes rushing in and Azul froze recognizing it was you, as the Tweels witness a practical murder in glee from the usually sweet and dedicated 'wife' of Azul, wondering if they'll ever find the same type of wife like you.

•Holy sevens, here we go again. Didn't this happened last time?

•You were there, forcing the mer to get tf out of that forsaken water, but even if the mer tried to escape under water, you followed with abnormal strength and speed.

The mer kidnapper: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THATTT????" *He said while swimming away from the oncoming silhouette of an angry mother.*

•Yes, your child is safe. Just witnessing you shoving a rock in the mer's throat, flipping him twice, spinning him across the air, and throwing him upwards into the sky, then blasting his dehydrated ass towards the sun.

•Yea, you were officially the man of the house. Not him, damn.

THE END!

A/n: sorry if it took awhile!!! @nesting-dreams !!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #my heart will explode from joy #💋MWUAHHH

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yuuainnie · 3 months ago

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Self aware AU the story after 3 years parting

...

There was unexpected event that stopped the so called Self aware viruses in your phone to interact with you for 3 years.

For some unfortunate turn of events. You accidentally drop your phones while mountain climbing ( you were force by your parent to visit some family that live near the mountains) one drop to a water and it gets wash off to the fast raging water and the other smash the screen into the rock and it turn black, dead.

Name:..... My mom going to kill me for being this stupid.

You don't actually take the account that you have self aware viruses of characters of a certain game in your phone as the outcome of that moment of stupidity.

At most case you thought your mentally ill and probably made those self aware character when you should have hang out friends in your mind, gaslighting yourself to believe those event in the previous chapters are just "being too imaginative" of a friendless person.

You were yelled at and told that you won't get a new phone to play your games you wanted because the phone your given have a system that's below the recommended update to even download the Twisted wonderland.

And your already gotten sick of the fandom and drift to elsewhere. So the thought of those time, fade to the back of your mind as time passes by.

It took you 3 years to go back to the fandom again. Because you saw some TikTok that you thought was really funny and it was that time you manage to buy a phone to be able to play the game again.

Name: I felt that I have a fever dream, I forget what it was... Ah. It's probably a fanfic I obsess too much.

You laugh to yourself as the memory of you experiencing Self aware characters flash in your mind as the game is being downloaded in your phone while your playing in digital tablet, creating a 3D model of Ortho Fairy gala gear.

While your focusing, you don't notice the moment you log in to your account with barely looking in your screen. The screen turn black and the logo of Shroud family organization appear. But your too focus on the art piece your doing to notice it

If only you look at it, you saw the background of the menu shown the Room of Shroud in a mess than its usually is, and idia hugging his knees while rocking back and forth on his computer chair, mumbling something with eyes that seems to have not sleep even a wink. If looking closely you can notice how he seems to be crying with those dread tears in his eyes.

The screen distorted when idia Golden orbs went to look at you, and his eyes widen and the scene disappear and change back to the normal game menu. As if the sight of him being in a downcast and depress wasn't shown. But then again you seems too focus on your work on your tablet to see what's up.

Idia: welcome back cheater.

You heard the sound of welcome of the character you last put in your account that welcome you back. You turn to look at the screen when you read the words of idia.

Name: where the word cheater come from? As if we're in a relationship to be called cheater.

You mumble to yourself poking Idia, forgetting the important matter: self aware.

Name: did the game update that it's now an Otome and dating sim?

You poke his sides and really want to smack your hand away when he felt your poking his side.

Idia: eekk .. stop poking my side! HELP! SOS!!

Name, laughing: ahahah. Your so silly. Wonder what's up with your new voiceline right now.

Idia:... Oh seven don't tell me your brain reformat and forgot about everything?

And here I am, going to tell you off being one of those Liars and ungrateful weebs that can't care more about how lucky they are to experience Self aware life with their favorite fictional characters.

Name: .....

You pause starting at idia as you process what he just said. He seems to be nagging you about something. It took you a while to finally process what he said.

Name: ah. It wasn't mental illness.

Idia: if it was did you went to therapy to not playing a single game in your accounts? That's the most nerve ricking thing a game would do.

Name, thinking about what he said seems expensive, therapy: no, my phone get drop to the river, get wash fast by river water before I can get it. I heard people died cause of the current in that river. Then the extra phone get Koed by the rock cause my hand get slippery for eating something oily.

Idia:... You are not a Libra type of person are you?

Name: who knows :)

While your enjoying the talk with idia the screen on your tablet glitch out for a moment and the 3D model that your almost down but uncolored , blink without you moving it. Then then it slowly gain texture and color render as it explore the new 4 walls that's surrounded him.

Ortho shroud have hacked your work drawing tablet and upgraded to a 3D model and looking at you as he open screen system that let him access your files on the tablet and saw you have new email that he and his brother did not know.

Taking note to it as his brother distracted you but taking note about your words as you explain what happened to you to lost contact with them for the last 3 years.

It seems that that player doesn't deliberately abandoned my brother and me. It's a good thing to know that before the time limit that he left in a count down in his head after seeing his brother ending in a terrible state because his only friend outside Ortho have disappear without a word.'

( You don't really proceed to the story and stuck at Chapter 1 cause you only do events when your playing before )

In a world where only him and his brother is even self conscious about them being in a game made others seems lifeless when the game isn't playing.

The world is in a frozen state if the player stopped playing and for them it's prison without escape.

Ortho: Hi Name~ how are you?

He finally break into a smile, hiding the fact he was glaring at you earlier. And you look at your drawing tablet and saw Ortho Fairy gala model have been completely render to perfection.

Name: oh ma' gott. Is this the cheat code of self aware characters!? AIYO YOUR MAKING MY WORK SO EASY!!

Seeing the model in a perfect state without doing the damn render makes you happy to notice the darkness In those two eyes that seems to grown from the past three years of partings.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #ortho shroud #twisted wonderland ortho #twisted wonderland x reader #ortho shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #self aware au twst #self aware twst

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veebeeboo109 · 3 months ago

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Cleaning up the Timeline

{You have a chat with Xavier, and Caleb is granted some well-deserved mercy.}

Read on ao3. Part One.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Caleb-centric, Polycule, some brat-taming Xavier. Caleb gets some love in this one!! 10k words of depravity.....

Chapter 25: Invitations

With spring in the air, the sun was greeting you earlier and earlier in the morning. No more waking up to pitch darkness, which made it remarkably easier to detangle yourself from Rafayl and Sylus this morning.

You were going back to work today, after a week of recuperating you were done hanging around. It took some convincing on your part, Sylus assuring the others that there were too few agents of Ever left in the city to form any sort of organized retaliation, and even if there were they’d be too busy picking up the pieces of their organization to worry about you. Not to mention the facility that kept the records of you and Caleb was destroyed, which would put a damper on them as well.

Caleb greeted you that morning already in the kitchen. The smell of something savory cooking filled the air, and he approached you with more vigor than necessary for so early in the morning.

“Morning pipsqueak!” He says, holding his phone and showing you the screen, which is playing a morning news report, “Check this out.”

You blink away the remaining sleep in your eyes as you watch his screen. A well-groomed gentleman in a pristine cobalt suit sits sternly at a newsdesk.

“Another bad day for the Ever Group as their CFO resigns today, effective immediately. No public statement has been released by the international group, and told us here at Linkon Channel 10 News that they were dealing with the changes internally when we reached out for comment.” The anchor explains in an even tempo. He shifts his hand across the desk, shuffling papers that were likely only for show, “This comes as only the latest in a string of bad luck facing the conglomerate. Experts worry about the sustainability of the company as one of its subsidiaries, Xander Sciences, is now facing intense government investigation for alleged animal and human testing. As of now, the Ever Group is remaining quiet on the continued issues, but we’ll be the first to know if and when they decide to speak.”

Caleb pulls the phone away, grinning that spectacular victorious smile. The one that made him the cover boy of his university groups, and the star of any sports team he joined. “Isn’t that awesome?”

He looks so young when he’s happy. You think. Like the boy you knew before, cheering about the new release of a video game he was excited about, instead of the downfall of an evil corporation.

“It’s good, right?” You ask, a little hesitant to celebrate just yet. Your arm is still bandaged, more so a comforting thing for Zayne at this point than for need of it. You also can’t stand to see the scars just yet. The perfect little squares so meticulously taken away.

“It’s good.” The more bright flares of Caleb’s excitement dwindles down, “Sylus was right, they’re scrambling right now. If this much has leaked out, it means they’re way worse on the inside.”

You imagine an office scrambling with men in suits, frantically trying to piece together a plan to save their sinking ship. It’s mildly comforting, but less so compared to the softness of Caleb’s shirt. You hold his sleeve pinched between your fingers, needing an anchor to keep you from wondering too long on things you’d rather forget.

Caleb looks at you and his eyes soften. Gently, he grabs the hand trying to tether you two together. He squeezes it firmly, pressing his thumb into your palm and lifting it so you look at him, “I made you breakfast, and a lunchbox to take.”

You blink. Struck out of the tar-like sensations of what it felt like to be strapped down and prodded at. With a simple tug, Caleb unties the knots in your stomach and draws you over to the kitchen.

“Geez,” You say as you see the spread laid out on the counter, “When did you wake up?”

Caleb laughs sheepishly as he lets go of your hand, fingers lingering for as long as possible before they fall away, “Early. I knew Zayne left early, and I knew you were heading back today. I wanted to make sure you had plenty to fuel you for your return to work!”

You giggle softly and sit down at the bar, “What a good housekeeper you make. I never would have guessed.”

“Seriously?” Caleb says with a scoff, “C’mon pips, you didn’t set me up to fail did you?”

You laugh again a little stronger this time, shaking your head as you take one of the slices of toast with orange marmalade, “Of course not! I just didn’t think you’d be so good at it! Makes me feel like I was doing a bad job.”

Caleb leans on the counter across from you, leaning on his elbows, “You were always more of a fighter than a chef. But that’s okay. That’s why I learned to do it so well. So you didn’t have to.”

You pause in taking a bite of toast and look at him, something odd bubbling in your chest. Some mixture of fondness and pain. Nostalgia swirling alongside the bitter taste of uncertainty, “Caleb, can I ask you something?”

The amusement in his expression shifted with a touch of confusion, “Of course. Anything.”

“Why didn’t you just come to the Sanctuary?” You ask, but the words feel like sand against your tongue. You don’t really want to ask because you don’t really want to know the answer. Why bring up the past when you’re trying so hard to move forward? How can you ever forgive Caleb if you don’t forcefully just forget what he’s done?

Internally, you know that’s not the way. Just pretending he never did anything wrong wouldn’t work in the long run. It’d be okay for a while, but like a dormant disease it would rear its ugly head again. All that pain. The resentment. The heartache. There was no moving on from a wound like that without proper stitching, and only you held the needle and thread.

Caleb’s face drops and he pushes up to stand up straight. The shimmer in his galactic eyes fades into the darkness of the void between stars and you bite down the urge to take back the question as guilt rises inside you.

“Sylus mentioned the same thing,” Caleb laughs self-deprecatingly. “That if I hadn’t been such a coward and just came to the Sanctuary, that everything could have been different. That world…there wouldn’t have been a spell if not for me…and I…I can’t answer your question, pipsqueak, because I don’t know.”

He covers his face with the chrome of his prosthetic hand and inhales sharply, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why do I always make the wrong choice?”

You toss your toast down and round the counter, his distress calling out to something undeniable inside you.

“Caleb,” You say gently, taking a hold of his wrist and pulling it away from his face. He looks down at you and his eyes are glassy, “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. How can I…I shouldn’t even be here….I wrote myself in and…” Caleb breathes heavily and like some magnetic pull overtakes him, he collapses into you. Wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly. “If I hadn't interfered, I wouldn’t have known you at all.”

You take a moment before hugging him back, and letting yourself take a deep breath.You consider his words. You consider his actions. You remember that little boy from the past timeline. One you had only known for moments at a time. One who had, for inexplicable reasons you didn’t know, cared for you– even if you had been blind to him.

“I don’t think that’s right.” You start by saying. “Even in that other world…we knew each other. In passing and only briefly, but who’s to say that would be different here? There isn’t–” You pause to sigh, unsure of where to even go from here, “That world was hard…it was unforgiving and it was cruel to all of us. I think…I think I like this one better. Even with everything that has happened. I like this world better.”

Caleb lifts his head from where he’d hidden his face in your shoulder, “Really?” He asks so pitifully you can’t help but smile.

“Yeah.” You whisper, “I have everything I could ever want and then some. I have my family. And everyone I love is here.” You draw away to look him in the eyes properly, “I think the last piece has always been you. I think…Or I like to think… that in that world…if the spell hadn't happened…you would have found your way to us eventually.”

Caleb’s breath catches, and exhales like it releases the weight of the very galaxy from his shoulders. The dewiness in his eyes slowly leaves, blinked away as he studies your face for any falsity. “The others…”

You smile and reach up to pinch his side, “It’s not perfect. Not yet. And maybe it never will be. The others are their own people. They feel how they feel about things and I can’t change that. But they can’t change my mind either. Though, I would appreciate it if you tried to be friends with them at least.”

“How?” Caleb whispers, his arms around your waist tighten a little. Reluctant to let you go.

“Well…Xavier is tough. He was a hard shell to crack when I first got here too. But he likes food– good meat in particular.” You begin explaining, letting yourself settle into this embrace for a moment while you think, “Rafayel is a creative, so his moods vary. But deep down he’s a deeply untrusting person. It takes a lot for him to feel secure and to trust someone else. He likes baths….he likes art…. You know Zayne already. But he’s a little warmer in this world, if you can believe it. He takes his job at the hospital very seriously, but he also likes to have fun– he’s just not the type to suggest it. And Sylus….Sylus likes guns. Or he alters guns. There’s a workshop downstairs where he works on classic cars too. Maybe try that?”

Caleb’s face scrunches, “That is…kind of helpful.”

“Good morning,” Zayne greets as he enters the room, eyes glued on his phone screen as usual. Though Caleb drops you like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

You nearly fall on your ass, but you’re laughing the whole time, “Morning Zayne.”

“A seven car pileup on the freeway this morning,” Zayne replies as he sighs heavily, “It’s going to be a long day.”

“Saving lives though, right?” You cheer as you return to your seat, “Do you have time to eat this morning? Caleb made a spread!”

Zayne finally looks up from his phone to the spread of food on the counter and his eyes fall on the gooey sticky buns dripping with creamy icing. You see the little boy inside Zayne begging for a taste, but the doctor tells him no.

“I can’t.” Zayne says mournfully, “The attending on call isn’t confident in trauma cases so I should go in as soon as I can.”

“Here!” Caleb speaks up, going to the fridge and pulling out a bento box. “I made you a lunch. It’s a sweet and sour chicken stir fry with veggies– no carrots though, right?”

Zayne takes the bento a little stunned, “Yes, that’s correct. Making my lunch isn’t necessary. I can always–”

“Eat a sugary pastry from the hospital cafeteria?” You accuse with a smirk, “That's not a lunch.”

Caleb chuckles and leans back onto the counter, “Yeah, Zaynie, take the lunch your poor housekeeper made…I worked so hard on it.”

Zayne’s face falls, “I forgot how efficiently the two of you can gang up on me.”

You snicker alongside Caleb, and from the corner of your eye you spy Xavier entering the room. He rubs at his eye sleepily with the back of his white glove, his hunter uniform always spotless as ever– sure to be riddled with dirt and soot by the end of the day.

“Morning…” Xavier rumbles softly, walking into Zayne’s offered hand and resting his pretty blond head on the doctor’s shoulder.

“I have to get going.” Zayne says, pressing his hand gently to Xavier’s back and nudging over to you. Letting the lethargic Hunter move from his arms to yours, leaning heavily against your chest as he fights for consciousness.

With Xavier leaning against you, it makes it easier for Zayne to press his signature kiss goodbye to your temples. You first, and then Xavier– who mumbles a sleepy goodbye into your shoulder.

Zayne takes the lunch and the wrapped breakfast to go, giving Caleb a firm nod of gratitude before he turns to go. You wonder if one of these mornings Zayne will forget and kiss Caleb on the forehead like he did you all those weeks ago.

“Have a good day!” You call as Zayne leaves.

“Save lots of lives!” Caleb echoes the elevator ding signalling your beloved doctor’s exit.

Xavier’s breathing is too slow for how soon you need to get going, so you try to coax him awake. You nudge your shoulder a little, making him lift his forehead and you whisper to him, “C’mon Xavier. You should eat before we go.”

“Just a little longer.” He breathes, turning his face into your neck and pressing his lips to your pulse.

“N-no.” You say weakly, the heat of his lips making your head a little foggy, “We only have ten minutes before we have to go. Look, Caleb made bacon and sausage.”

Xavier mumbles something incoherent into your neck and with firm hands on your waist he finally stands up straight. “Are such extravagant breakfasts in the grocery budget?”

You return to your toast and roll your eyes. Xavier will find anything to nitpick about Caleb at this point, but Caleb seems to be handling it very well. Never taking it to heart and smiling.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been very careful.” Caleb assures as he motions with his head to the plates of food awaiting the blond. “Though, if it’s not to your liking…I can always make something else.”

Xavier frowns softly and shakes his head as he sits down next to you, “This is fine.”

Munching away at your breakfast, Caleb returns to tidying up the mess of making it, and you glance between the two men.

“So,” You begin, “We don’t have any big missions today. So we should be home around Five-ish.”

“Good,” Caleb says, pleased, “I’ll have something ready for you then. How about some dumplings?”

“Sounds good!” You say with a happy nod. There’s a worm of guilt in your chest because Xavier is still frowning, and you’re wondering if it will ever get better.

The two of you finish your breakfast and Caleb gives you both your own lunches to take. Xavier looks at him like he’s grown another head for such an absurd action, and so you carry both. Laughing at Xavier’s reaction.

You’re in the car and heading to work when you lean over and smack Xavier in the arm. He flinches slightly– not hurt but surprised by the sudden action.

“What’s the matter with you?” You bark at him, more frustrated than properly angry. “You could try, you know?”

Xavier hums softly and returns his full attention to the road, “Try what, exactly?”

“To be cordial, if not nice.” You add, crossing your arms, “It’s been over a week, and you’re still treating him like a criminal.”

Xavier’s expression doesn’t change, “He is a criminal. An enemy of our house– our family. I won’t forgive him, and I certainly will not forget.”

You sigh and just look at Xavier for a moment. From the passenger seat, you examine the unmarred skin of his cheek. The place on his jaw where a deep scar had given him pain in his teeth when it was cold. It’s smooth skin now, free from the mark where one of his own men had betrayed him.

The car falls into silence, and you wait until he’s parked in the darkness of the Hunter’s Association garage before you speak again.

“You were the enemy,” You say very very gently. Barely a whisper, “Once.”

Xavier’s face jerks to look at you, a look of flayed shock in his eyes. He doesn’t say a word, but his eyes say enough.

“You were the Prince of Philos.” You continue. “You led battalions that killed hundreds. Uprooted families. I remember…I remember the color of the banners being something we used to fear. Astra was a threat once, and so were you.”

Xavier’s mouth is open and he speaks slowly, “I never…I never betrayed you.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You say quickly. “I’m not saying it’s the same, it's just…when you first came to the sanctuary, Zayne didn’t want me to help you. Lots of the people there…they wanted to let you die. I couldn’t….I just…They told me about who you were, what you’d done– what your family had done. I guess…I thought maybe you could find it in your heart to cut him a little slack? You don’t have to be buddies with him but…maybe you can understand what he’s feeling, you know?”

Xavier pauses, letting your words settle in the air before he responds. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?” You reach out and take his hand, feeling the soft leather of his glove, “We make choices from the options we have available. If your men hadn’t betrayed you and left you for dead, would you have ever been on our side? To be honest, I try not to think about what could have been or what we could have done differently– it doesn’t change anything now. And I’m happy here. Aren’t you?”

The steel in Xavier’s eyes loses it sharp glint. The blade he’s been wielding so tightly since the moment you were kidnapped is finally finally sheathed. “I am.”

He whispers so gently, and when he reaches for you, you meet him halfway. Nothing but binary stars in orbit of one another, drawn by each other’s gravitational pull. He kisses you gently, the barest of pressure that you press harder into.

It’s hard to reach him leaning against the console between you, and so you push yourself up onto one knee. You need to feel him closer. Just a little stronger taste to get you through the day, and Xavier is silently agreeing with the sentiment because he’s pulling you in.

Soft pecks turn into slower, harder caresses. His tongue darts to taste you, and you nip at the tip of it playfully. He exhales sharply through his nose, and pulls you away from him an inch with a firm hand in your hair.

“You’re asking for it.” He warns breathily.

“We can be a little late, right?” You whisper, and usually there’s another one of your lovers there to talk the two of you out of getting carried away. Zayne, Sylus, and Rafayel all know how you and Xavier can bring out the worst in each other– forgoing anything else to indulge the way you so enjoy.

Xavier groans into your mouth and you can feel his internal debate. He has to close his eyes tightly and grip your waist to stop from immediately caving in and throwing you in the backseat– work be damned.

“N-no.” He whines. “We can’t be late today. Not on the first day.”

You hum, pressing another short kiss to his lips before you back off, “Bummer. Maybe tomorrow then.”

Before you can leave the car, Xavier grabs you and hauls you back to him. Devouring your lips in an orchestrated assault on your senses and sanity. He doesn’t let you go until it’s you who is breathless and dizzy, and he mumbles the warning so deeply into you that even your hazy mind hears it, “You’ll regret that later.”

Caleb wasn’t one to complain. Not really. He was used to doing things he didn’t enjoy, but he couldn’t say he hated his new position as housekeeper.

Cleaning was methodical, and cooking enjoyable. Seeing the carefree look on your face as you ate something he made was even better. You loved food, you loved good food, and Caleb had spent so long perfecting it that it felt heavenly to see all that effort come to fruition.

He didn’t mind the laundry, which he noticed wasn’t a part of your list, but had somehow become a part of his. And the grocery shopping was easy because the other four men were oddly specific, and Caleb knew your preferences like the back of his hand.

His only complaint? The Rules.

Caleb wasn’t entirely sure if Sylus had been serious, but he wasn’t about to risk his road to redemption by testing it. However, it was leading to some…unusual side effects.

Caleb couldn’t touch you, but it seemed as long as you initiated it no one made a fuss. A loophole for which he was grateful you took advantage of. At least it was something to tide him over before he inevitably went insane.

He also couldn’t touch himself. Caleb believed the dragon when he’d said he’d know. That damn beast's sniffer was worse than the siren’s, and Caleb wouldn’t put it past any of them to punish him if he tried to take care of the unbearable tension he was experiencing.

It would be easier if he couldn’t hear everything. Plagued by insomnia the way he was, Caleb was up at all hours of the night. Listening to the horrific, terrible, no-good, vile, delirious…cross-eyed, gorgeous, sybalitic, divine things that occurred between you and your lovers.

This was torture of a new breed. A kind that Caleb found himself dumbfounded for not thinking of earlier, because he was going insane. Insane in the way that makes people desperate. That makes their minds melt and become people they don’t recognize.

Because he found himself hard and aching even when you weren’t involved. When he’d accidentally walked into the gym and found Xavier sprawled across the training mat, the purple haired siren– Rafayel, Caleb’s traitorous mind purrs– between his legs.

Caleb hadn’t considered what the blond might look like with his cock balls deep in someone’s throat, and so the sight of it was novel and branding. It was a lack of imagination on his part what the sound of the artist gagging might do to his fraying psyche, and how he almost fell to his knees and begged for mercy then and there.

Seeing Zayne was worse. There was something frighteningly powerful about seeing Zayne with his hand around Sylus’s throat, pressing him into the couch and pounding into the other large man like he was a doll to be controlled. Perfect, poised Zayne was red-faced and sweating, mumbling out curses and so engrossed in the tight heat around him he didn’t even notice Caleb.

But Sylus had.

Sylus with those beastly carmine eyes had focused on him like a predator in the jungle, stunned at first, but then he smirked and Caleb the movement jolt down his spine straight to his already-hard cock.

Zayne was ruthless– his pace was punishing, and Sylus looked like he could take more. At least, that’s what Caleb’s celibacy-addled mind whispered.

Caleb shook his head, trying to get back to cleaning the firearm Sylus had left for him. A crate of them to be dismantled, cleaned, and put back together. After their chat, Sylus seemed to take pity on him– or he just enjoyed the torture– either way. Of the four men, Zayne was too busy to talk and the other two didn’t want to talk. Sylus was the only one who had made any sort of effort to interact with him.

He sighed, placing the cleaned firearm back into its case before moving onto the next one. Only, before he could open the case, the elevator dinged. Checking his watch, Caleb cursed– it was you and Xavier coming home!

He rose from his seat, ready to greet you, but was met with the heart-stopping sight of you thrown over Xavier’s shoulder, giggling and kicking your feet slightly. The blond wasted no time in giving you a harsh smack on the ass for your antics, and you squealed like it was just the beginning of some horrific game.

Caleb was frozen, watching with his jaw ajar as Xavier smacked your ass again– only this time, Caleb got a full view of your face. The way your eyebrows drew together and up, a tantalizing mixture of pleasure and pain as you jolted from the harsh treatment. The sound of it was enough to make Caleb’s gut twist, suddenly, painfully hard.

He hadn’t actually seen you in the thralls of pleasure yet. Only heard. Heard night after night this week as you meticulously undone in so many various ways. Sometimes slowly, softly, gently. And other times hard, rough, violent.

Words bubbled at the back of Caleb’s throat. Objections to the rough treatment and defense on your behalf. The tender skin of your bottom should never feel such disrespect. But also, Caleb didn’t want to say anything because then he might get to hear it again.

“Xavier!” You cried as you were hauled past the living room– not even a step of hesitation from the prince’s feet as he carved a path upstairs, “I’m sorry! It was just a joke!”

Another smack. A perfect, echoing slap of Xavier’s white leather glove against the black leather of your hunter’s uniform. Oh Caleb would never get the sound out of his head– he’d cling to that auditory memory because it might be the best he could get.

Xavier didn’t reply and disappeared with you into the hall and away upstair. Caleb flinched at the harsh slam of your bedroom door, and began to worry for the safety of your beautiful skin. He wouldn’t leave lasting marks right?

Caleb hears the footsteps only a second before he sees him. The devil incarnate come to rub salt in his wounds. Sylus slides around the corner like a snake, grinning, and Caleb has all of half a second to press himself up against the counter to hopefully hide the evidence of his painful arousal.

“Was that Xavier I saw walking by just now?” Sylus’ drawls, asking in such a clearly rhetorical way that it makes Caleb’s irritation spike.

“What do you want?” Caleb bites out harshly, “I’m not done cleaning the guns yet.”

Sylus’ brows raise in mock surprise, “Oh? Such attitude for someone in your position, and here I thought I might grant mercy to you.”

Sylus hums and turns away, taking two steps and shrugging theatrically.

“What?” Caleb hisses, “What do you mean mercy?”

Sylus pauses, turning to look over his shoulder at the violet-eyed man, “I mean mercy. You’ve been good. Following the rules. Keeping up with the chores and making good meals. I think you’ve suffered enough, though I’m not the only one you have to convince.”

Caleb can’t breathe. He’s not entirely sure what Sylus means but it’s promising. Does that mean he can touch himself? Does that mean he can touch you?

Sylus chuckles and it sounds like sin, “Here, come with me.”

The devil offers Caleb his hand, and god forgive him but he takes it.

He’s drawn up the stairs to the hallway outside your room, and Caleb shudders when he scales those last few steps and hears the muffled sounds from behind the door.

“Xavier!” You voice is high and pitchy, the ending of the name breaking into a long, drawn out moan, “Please– oh god! – Slow d-down!”

You devolve into rhythmic sighing moans, squeals of pain that come a moment after harsh slapping sounds. Caleb jolts forward, determined to come to your rescue because you’ve asked Xavier so nicely to slow down and he clearly hasn’t.

“Woah there,” Sylus catches him with a wide palm on his chest, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“She asked him to stop and he didn’t! He’s hurting her and you’re okay with this?” Caleb snaps, yanking Sylus’ hand off of him.

“It’s their game.” Sylus says with a slight roll of his eyes, “It’s how they play. The prince and his bunny. They have a safeword set up– if she really wanted him to stop, she would use it.”

“How do you know? How do you know that he would stop?” Caleb asks a little too desperately.

“Because he’s done it before.” Sylus assures, taking on that low rumbling tone, “Xavier can get carried away with overstimulation. The prince of Philos is a glutton for when her eyes start to cross. When she starts to drool and can’t even form words anymore…One time…”

Sylus’ voice drops into a whisper, and Caleb is now hanging from his every word. A sick cacophony of secrets hushed to him alongside the symphony of your pleasure.

“She had to use the safeword because Xavier nearly passed out. Blue in the face and everything because he wouldn’t come up for air.” Sylus’ chest rumbles in dark humor, “So pussy-drunk that he forgot to breathe while eating her sweet cunt. But…you know how that is, right?”

Caleb blinks and is momentarily distracted as the wet slurping noises from within the room turn into rhythmic slaps. Hips crashing against hips– and its so fucking wet sounding that Caleb’s mind short circuits enough to get the Toring chip involved.

“I don’t…” Caleb mumbles before shaking his head, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sylus’ eyes narrow and he crowds Caleb against the wall, “You don’t? You mean to tell me you spent all those years with her and you never returned the favor? Never tasted her?”

“We never–” Caleb grits his teeth, “We never did anything like that!”

“Oh you poor sap,” Sylus growls, “Now I really do feel bad for you.”

“Shut up.” Caleb barks and debates shoving Sylus away.

“Don’t be upset. Here,” Sylus coos and with one arm braced against the wall to the side of Caleb’s head, he uses the other to drag down the pilot’s chest. Giving little warning before dipping his fingers into the hemline of his pants and cupping Caleb’s throbbing cock, “, let me help you.”

Caleb gasps wantonly, a high pitch pitiful thing as it’s the first real touch he’s had in months. “F-fuck…”

“Tell me now if you want me to stop…” Sylus whispers in his ear, pressing harder against him and Caleb’s vision whites out.

“No. No.” Caleb pleads under his breath, “Please…”

“Such a good puppy you’re turning out to be.” Sylus lifts his hand and uses two fingers to hook the waistband of Caleb’s pants and underwear, dragging them down to let his poor, neglected cock free.

Caleb is panting madly, hands pressed flat against the wall and his hips pushed out in desperate seeking of more. Sylus’ large hand encircles his cock, and Caleb is whining before he even moves.

“If you keep behaving so nicely,” Sylus drawls as he slowly pumps his hand up and down Caleb’s long, thick member. A fat glob of pearlescent precum drips out and onto Sylus’ fingers, which only smooths the path for him to go a little faster, “Then you’ll be in our bed in no time. You’ll get your turn to taste her. Is that what you want?”

Caleb’s quiet moans are nearly drowned out by yours, and he realizes Sylus is matching the rhythm of his hand to the hedonistic slapping happening behind the door to your bedroom.

“Y-yes…” Caleb groans, and his hips are thrusting up without even thinking. Edged for so long in this prolonged punishment that he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. “That’s what I want. It’s all I want. Fuck~ I need to f-feel her. I wanna’ – oh god, yes– I wanna’ be i-inside….her.”

“She’s like heaven,” Sylus continues, squeezing a little tighter. “Better than you can even imagine. Did you know she can take two?”

Caleb’s hips jolt at those word– images flashing behind his eyes, “Oh god! You’re fucking lying. You’re a liar– she wouldn’t–”

Sylus growls, smiling with those sharp venomous canines, “Took me and Zayne so well. We took it slow of course– the last thing we want to do is hurt our girl, but oh…she did so well. Took both of us at the same time. Oh– You really like that, don’t you puppy? Don’t try and lie to me I can see how much you’re leaking…”

“Oh god…I’m– nng–” Caleb is whimpering, pushing his hips into Sylus’ warm hand, wishing desperately it was more. That it was wet, and and hot, and cried out as he fucked up into it.

“Please, please, please!” Your wail is barely muffled by the door and your poor, lovely voice is so hoarse, “I’m sorry! I won’t— ahn, oh god yes….hit me harder. Ung, it feels so good. So good.”

Caleb’s knees buckle but he catches himself by grabbing Sylus’ arms at the last second. “Is she always…” Caleb has to swallow hard before he continues, “Is she always so responsive?”

Sylus rumbles with laughter, oh so casually leaning down slightly to spit right onto Caleb’s cock head with deadly precision, and then, smirking like it was nothing Sylus replies, “Of course. She has a hard time keeping that pretty mouth of hers shut, but I prefer her like this….don’t you?”

Caleb only grunts softly in response, the added wetness making his head spin. He’s tumbling headfirst towards a long overdue orgasm, but won’t let himself completely succumb. Not yet. Not yet.

“Not yet?” Sylus mimics the chant Caleb was unknowingly whispering, “I see. Good boy, waiting for her to finish first right?

Shame slaps Caleb hard in the face, making him flush the prettiest pink because his cock throbs, more slick threads of pre forced out of his desperate plying cock.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Your succulent moans are punched out of you, the reverberation of a gorgeous string instrument smacked with the violence of a drum. Caleb’s mind scolds Xavier for his indelicacy to you, but also begins planning how best to prepare a nice, fat steak for him. A gift for the prince for such a unique gift.

Caleb faintly hears Xavier hiss out a curse, then your name, and then, “Oh bunny—ngh—you’re so close….you’re gushing. Such a good bunny I’ll be kind. — At the count of ten, you can come ok? Oh mmmh— yeah you can come on ten. Ready?”

Caleb knows the words aren’t directed at him, but his breath hitches like they are. You’re struggling already, making these high pitch animal whines as you grapple against your own pleasure.

“One.” A loud smack, and you keen— squealing as Xavier must have placed a debatably-deserved slap to your perfect ass.

“Two.” Xavier’s pace is fast but not frantic, and Sylus mimics it perfectly. The precision, the harsh but not painful thrusts. Perfect damnation wrapped in fair hair.

“Three.” Sylus is grinning like a conqueror, clearly enjoying the show.

“Four.” Xavier’s voice is getting strained, pushed to his limits by his own games.

“Five.” Caleb’s not gonna’ last, he just knows it. So he bites his lower lip and stops thrusting his hips in a desperate attempt to slow the inevitable.

“Six.” You’ve devolved into breathless pants at this point and Caleb can only guess was depressed look is on your face.

“Seven.” So close. He’s so so so close.

“Eight.” Almost there. Sylus squeezes him a little tighter and hums like a satisfied beast. The silver haired man’s breathing is faster than normal, the only outward sign that he’s thoroughly enjoying himself— besides the massive hard bulge he presses against Caleb’s thigh.

“Nine.” Xavier sounds strained and the sounds from the collision of flesh have grown a bit softer.

It’s finally here. Caleb’s mind chants in utter jubilation. A dedicated worshipper finally feeling rain after fasting for a hundred days. Right there. He’s right there.

“Ten.”

Caleb clenches his mouth shut on pure willpower— fighting against his voice’s involuntarily exultation of pleasure so he can hear you instead. He can’t waste this opportunity with trivial things like his own white-hot, bone melting, knee-buckling orgasm.

He holds onto Sylus so tightly to weather the storm, rope after steamy rope of pearly cum shooting across the silver-haired man’s arm and hand.

And oh, you��re perfection. The cataclysm of a summer storm. Thunder and lightning and rain combining into some heady combination that both sets his primal mind alight and sends into some sleepy stupor. He could get drunk on the sound of your orgasm alone, and maybe he has because his mind is swimming with it.

Xavier is breathy and quiet, muttering filthy but reverent praise as he no-doubt fills your heavenly cunt with his cum.

You repeating thanks over and over again, voice cracking and fading into whimpering whispers,

Caleb can barely catch his breath, so sunken in the quicksand of orgasm and struggling to come up for air.

“I…” Caleb doesn’t even know what he’s about to say, only that when he looks up at Sylus there are words forming.

Sylus looks smug but not demeaningly so. Proud of his accomplishment and admiring the sheer amount of come now striping his tanned skin.

“Hm…” Sylus hums thoughtfully, lifting his hand and Caleb gasps like a wanton whore as he watches Sylus’ tongue dart out to take the tiniest taste of come from his fingers.

“Oh fuck…” Caleb curses under his breath, in between gasping swallows for air, “That was…”

“Our secret.” Sylus finishes for him, “For now. You have my trust, and I thought you deserved a treat. Did you enjoy it? Your treat?”

Caleb’s face feels too hot, “Y-yes…”

“Good.” Sylus says with a slight grin. “The rules still stand with the others— no touching, and no touching yourself— but I will…help if you need it.”

Sylus slowly helps Caleb to lean against the wall instead of clinging to him, and only when the brunette is steady on his feet does Sylus back off.

“T-thanks…” Caleb mumbles lamely, unsure of how to act now that he’s just been jerked off within an inch of his life by the man before him.

He’d never actually considered your lovers or men in general before, and so his mind is having trouble catching up to this new reality.

Sylus smirks, “Go get cleaned up. Xavier probably knows we were out here, but better to be safe and escape while we can.”

Caleb rushes to put his flagging cock back into his pants and pull them back up, “Did I fuck up? Is he going to hate me more now?”

Sylus pulls out a red silk handkerchief from his pocket and begins to wipe his hand clean, “So worried. Aren’t you concerned what kitten will think if she knew what a voyeur you were?”

Caleb falls silent, following the dragon down the stairs and back to the dimly lit living room. It’d only been a day and a half since Caleb had walked in on Zayne plowing Sylus on the couch, and Caleb wonders if Sylus thinks about it as much as he does.

Sylus looks over his shoulder at the violet-eyed man and chuckles richly, “No I suppose she already knows, doesn’t she? Tell me, were you pressing your ear to her door as a teenager? Or sneaking pics of her in the shower?”

Caleb’s face scrunches at the accusation, “I would never!”

Sylus, however, continues, “Did you sneak into her room at night and watch her sleep? Or steal her panties from the hamper?”

Caleb opens his mouth to deny the first allegation, but at the second, Caleb’s jaw clamps shut.

“So that’s it…” Sylus hums, “Don’t worry, puppy. I don’t judge you for it. Just be careful pulling that here, you’re still on punishment for now.”

“So what was this?” Caleb asks quietly after he lets his shame subside, “An act of pity?”

“Partly,” Sylus replies honestly, “but also a peace offering. Relax a little. You’re down two out of the four— possibly three.”

“Two? Three?” Caleb repeats in confusion, “Who do I have on my side? Zayne?? Zayne doesn’t remember, if he did—“

“I can’t speak for Zayne or the others for that matter. I don’t care to try and put words in their mouth.” Sylus says with a shake of his head, “But what I can say is this. Zayne is in the same boat as our lovely kitten. She was your friend in this life and cared for you before she remembered. Zayne doesn’t prolong grudges that don’t serve him— he finds it a waste of energy. And Rafayel only bothers to hate those who are deserving. Are you deserving?”

Caleb pauses and his brow furrows, “I…I don’t know.”

“Get cleaned up.” Sylus continues, “Tell the others I have business I have to see to that’ll keep me out until tomorrow, would you?”

The silver haired dragon turns on his heel and waltzes down the hall, going towards the back staircases and disappearing.

Caleb takes a second to collect himself and then hastily rushes to the hall bathroom to tidy his appearance. Luckily, there’s no come on his clothes, but he escapes downstairs to change anyway.

Sylus has already disappeared from the halls by the time Caleb gets down there, and the brunette changes and fixes his hair in less than three minutes.

He’s in a rush to get back upstairs, the idea of making Xavier a steak having stuck. The two of you would probably be hungry, and he wanted to somehow, someway thank you for letting him listen in— even if you didn’t know.

Caleb is a good cook, and knows enough about cooking that he can make lots of dishes from memory alone. He’s got the steaks seasoned and resting on the chopping block while he heats some butter in a pan. A tray of seasonal veggies is already in the oven when you and Xavier show your faces.

Flushed, but not debauched— Caleb’s only slightly disappointed that the evidence of your coupling is so subtle.

“Oh that smells so good!” You coo as you collapse onto the couch— wearing an adorable peach colored lounge set. “What are you making, Caleb?”

“Ribeye with roasted vegetables.” He answers with a pleased smile.

Xavier walks in the room like a conquering hero— a pillager who laid claim to the spoils. Though he’s not gloating, just preening. A sort of peacocking glow about the blond’s face that reveals he’s indulged in something Dyonisian.

“How do you like yours cooked, Xavier?” Caleb asks, feeling like he’s tiptoeing around a sleepy lion.

Xavier’s sharp sapphire eyes land on him, and Caleb freezes— waiting for the reprimand. For the threats of violence and decapitation— but none comes.

“Medium-rare.” Is all the blond says and finds a spot next to you on the couch, leaning heavily into your side while you begin to browse for something to watch on the television.

Caleb breathes a quiet sigh of relief, “Coming up!”

It was like the house itself breathed a sigh of relief— at least that’s how it felt to Caleb. He no longer felt like he was tiptoeing around landmines and peering around corners to avoid hateful eyes.

After his treat, Caleb was even more on edge. Certain that you and Xavier would find out and kick him out. He broke the rules, even if it was Sylus that dragged him across that line in the first place.

Though after a day or so, Caleb could rest easy. Sylus made no overt effort to pressure the others into forgiving Caleb, but he also didn’t partake in anymore in the group flagellation— which at this point only consisted of Rafayel pelting him with schoolyard teases and taunts.

Xavier didn’t even bother with it at this point. Which was good— right? It felt good. Caleb wasn’t sure what he’d done, but it felt like Xavier’s ire had simmered down considerably. No longer did the blond’s hands shimmer with the anticipation of his Lightblade whenever Caleb got too close to you.

Three days since his treat, and Caleb felt like he was on the right path. A path to redemption and being welcomed back at your side. You were spending more time around him, opening up almost as much as you used to do. Such progress, and Caleb was living for it.

It was a peculiar happenstance that evening. Earlier that day, while you were still at work, Rafayel had stormed out of the house– grabbing a lemon glazed scone from the tray that Caleb was working on and mumbling something about “Stupid publicist. Stupid magazine. Can’t believe I have to– ugh! This is good, by the way.”

Caleb was so dumbfounded by the compliment that he didn’t manage a word before the artist was gone.

Then, you arrived home, dragging your feet and face covered in the ash of Wanderer dust. However, Xavier wasn’t with you– and you informed Caleb that he’d been called in on a specialty mission and wouldn’t be back for a few days.

Two down. A few weeks ago, Caleb would be elated, but now he was sitting in a confusing puddle of disappointment. He’d spent the afternoon deboning rainbow trout and hoping to finally impress Rafayel with it. Xavier always preferred red meat, but Caleb was so sure that he’d like this fish that he’d staked more than he realized on that hope.

Then, even worse, Sylus came in. Complimenting the smell of roasted fish and turnips but politely declining on joining. He was dressed to the nines– shiny black shoes with flashy red bottoms and an onyx black suit with silver detailing. A business meeting is what the dragon claimed, and Caleb wondered if this business meeting would lead to blood stains or wine stains.

Three down. Three left. You apologized so sweetly, offering to help finish up the meal while you waited for Zayne to come home.

You were sitting on your barstool, snacking on a piece of raw baby carrot when the elevator bell dinged. You turned, seeing your cool-headed paramour enter the living area with a slouch to his shoulders and exhaustion coloring his features.

It hadn’t gone beyond your notice that he no longer wore his white lab coat in the house anymore. Kept neatly folded in the car and laundered using a service at the hospital. By the time you saw him in the evenings, all evidence of the hospital was gone from him– save for the remnants of stress that remained on his noble features.

“Evening.” Zayne offers the two of you as he enters, looking up and coming to your side. An arm around your waist and his chest pressed into your back in an uncharacteristically affectionate gesture. Zayne must have had an unusually difficult day– seeking comfort so quickly after coming in.

“Dinner’s ready.” Caleb says, and from the look in his eyes you could tell Caleb notices it too. The heaviness to Zayne’s form, the darkness around his eyes. “And I made a mousse for dessert.”

Zayne sighs and looks over to Caleb, “A mousse?”

Caleb chuckles at the soft eagerness in the doctor’s voice, “Yeah. Chocolate and caramel. But it’s still setting, so we have to eat normal food first.”

“You alright, Zayne?” You ask softly, turning your head to look up at him properly. “How was work?”

Zayne hums and tightens the arm around your waist, “Busy. Do you remember that pileup I mentioned earlier this week?”

“Oh, yeah.” You say, “I saw pictures on the news– it was bad.”

“Yes, well,” Zayne slides into the barstool next to you and offers Caleb a polite nod when the brunette slides a glass of lemonade to him. “One of the patients was still in severe condition. They’d taken the brunt of the trauma directly to their chest. They were stable since their emergency surgeries, and were in the ICU.”

You recall your brief stint in the ICU and shiver slightly, “I heard there were some children involved. It wasn’t one of them was it?”

Zayne shakes his head, “No, fortunately, all the minors involved sustained only surface injuries. This was a single woman– one of the smaller cars that was caught beneath the larger truck.”

“Yikes,” Caleb remarks with a cringe, “Well, she’s lucky she has such a talented doctor looking after her, right? No better place to be than in your ICU.”

Caleb is clearly trying to cheer him up, but Zayne’s eyes only dim. His jaw clenches softly and he huffs softly in a dry, humorless scoff, “Right. A talented doctor…”

You glance at Caleb and the two of you are thinking the same thing. A part of you wanted it to feel weird, how easily you fell back into routines with Caleb. Silently able to detect what the other was thinking or feeling with a glance. The playful teasing and games you would play as children that prolonged into your adulthood. But right now, it was a blessing, because you were both able to conclude that Zayne was very much not okay.

“What happened?” You whisper, trying to coax more from your stoic doctor. A gentle hand to his arm.

“She was stable.” Zayne is spilling out the moment your fingers touch him, “Critical, but stable. Her incision was healing well, and her blood tests showed no signs of infection. But she just— she just crashed. Her pressure kept bottoming out, and I realized too late she’d thrown a clot.” Zayne sighs like he might deflate into nothing, “I got her into surgery but by the time I found the clot she’d been down too long.”

Your heart twists painfully at the way Zayne’s voice strains as he speaks. He’s not looking at you– eyes foggy as he recalls the memories from earlier today. Zayne was a spectacular surgeon, a talented, wonderful doctor– but he couldn’t save everyone. No matter how hard he tried.

You're stuck with the memory of a different Zayne. A Zayne with longer hair but the same stricken expression. Lamenting over the loss of a group of refugees caught in the crossfire. His ability to foresee the future had led him to saving dozens of lives, but sometimes…sometimes he couldn’t get there in time. Or if he did, he still couldn’t change their fate.

It tore at him the way losing patients tore at him. The cold exterior of his heart is nothing but a facade because Zayne is, and always had been, deeply empathetic. Seeking to aid those in need at the cost of his own well-being.

“I’m so sorry…” You whisper, wishing desperately that Zayne could remember the past like you could now. That you could remind him of all the good he’d once done. The way he’d saved families and bloodlines. The way he’d saved you.

Caleb clears his throat softly and slides a plate over to him, “Eat up. And then you can have some dessert, yeah?”

You give Caleb a grateful smile, and the three of you eat in silence. Zayne doesn’t like to dissect his feelings like you or Caleb do sometimes. He doesn’t enjoy peeling away the layers of his trauma to hold the core of his emotions delicately in his palm. He processes things quietly, in whispers to himself when he’s alone.

You won’t let him be alone tonight, and when you’ve finished eating you take Zayne gently by his hand. He doesn’t immediately stand; his mind is working around the events of the day like he might find some variable he missed.

So you play a little dirty, “Zayne,” You hush, “I’m really tired. Can we go lay down?”

Zayne’s golden-green eyes find yours, and you see the cogs of his beautiful mind slow. You’ve called to him, given him something to care for and to fix, and the caretaker inside him jumps at it. He nods softly and rises to his feet. Helping you and Caleb put the dishes in the sink before heading towards your room.

Holding onto Zayne’s arm, you pause in the archway leading out of the living room and peer over your shoulder. Caleb is wiping at the countertop, keeping his eyes down and avoiding your gaze.

“Hey Zayne?” You whisper quiet enough that Caleb can’t hear. The dark haired man turns to look down at you, his eyebrows drawn together as he waits for your request. “Can Caleb come too?”

The tension in Zayne’s expression slackens into surprise, and he glances behind you towards Caleb and then back to you, “What are you asking me right now?”

Your stomach flips, the tone in Zayne’s voice richer than the creamy mousse you enjoyed for dessert. “Not for like…that. Just to cuddle or something. All the others are gone….and I thought maybe he might like to have a sleepover? Like old times?”

Zayne huffs in amusement, “We only had a sleepover twice. And we were much younger then.”

“So?” You say, squeezing his hand. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay. I just thought I’d ask.”

“No, it’s fine.” Zayne amends with a shake of his head, “I’m curious what Caleb will think of this sleepover.”

Your face breaks out into a brilliant smile and you can’t help but bounce once in place, “Hey Caleb!”

Caleb freezes, finally looking up from his busywork of polishing the counter for the umpteenth time, “Y-yeah?”

You grin with childlike glee, “You wanna’ have a sleepover?”

Which is how you found yourself in your bedroom, changed into a silky sleepwear set Sylus had gifted you that was the color of the midnight sky, trimmed with feathery lace. Not lingerie by any means, but thin enough you wouldn’t overheat with multiple bodies in the bed.

Caleb had scrambled like he’d been offered a ticket set to expire if he didn’t jump on it. He’d rushed to go change into sleep clothes and knocked so very politely on your door.

Zayne was finishing brushing his teeth in the bathroom while you Caleb in, and damn if he didn’t look every bit like a puppy allowed on the furniture for the first time.

“You could look a little less pleased, you know.” You tease, poking Caleb in the side.

Caleb only laughs, “Why would I do that? When I’m so very happy? I won’t pretend like this isn’t something important to you– and to me.”

“It’s just sleeping.” You try to amend, hoping to temper Caleb’s possible lewd expectations.

“I know,” Caleb replies with a sparkly smile, “But it’s been so long since you’ve let me sleep in the bed with you. You used to have nightmares a lot when we were little, and you couldn’t sleep without me. I just…I miss it.”

Your face heats up, a soft blush rising to your cheekbones and the genuine happiness in Caleb’s voice and expression. It was hard to stay mad at him, and harder still to hate him.

“Oh, I should mention something,” You say and pull Caleb down to you level with a grip on the sleeve of his band-tee, “Zayne has nightmares sometimes.”

Caleb smirks incredulously, “Okay…? Should I make him some warm milk or something? That’s hardly worth whispering about, pipsqueak.”

“No, I mean,” You sigh, “I mean that he has nightmares about alternate lives. There’s two that I know of. There’s the one I knew– the past timeline we were in. And then there’s Dawnbreaker.”

The mirth in Caleb’s expression melts away as he pales, “He…remembers?”

“Only for minutes at a time.” You say dejectedly, “It’s not that Zayne I’m warning you about. Dawnbreaker is from a timeline where he never met any of us. He doesn’t recognize anyone but me and he’s…let’s just say he’s a little hostile.”

“So, what exactly do I need to be wary of?” Caleb whispers, finally serious.

“If it happens, just let me handle it okay? Don’t try and fight him because it just makes him angrier. To be honest, I don’t think he’s violent. Just scared.”

Caleb rises up to his full height and shakes his head, “What an interesting bunch you’ve got pipsqueak…”

Zayne exits the bathroom, turning the light off as he leaves and you turn away from Caleb.

You’re the first to crawl into bed, right in your usual place right in the middle. Your pillow greets you with its overstuffed goose-down and you sigh softly. Zayne is next, coming in on your right and shuffling under the blankets. The cool touch of the silky cotton sheets is nothing compared to the drop in temperature when he draws close.

Caleb hesitates, kneeling down onto the bed on your left before drawing back the blankets. He laughs a little sheepishly and tries to hide his nerves with a joke, “So, do we start with scary stories? Or truth or dare?”

“How about Never Have I Ever?” You counter.

Caleb lays down a foot away from you. Curled up on his side and facing where Zayne cuddles up against you. His violet eyes dart a little too quickly around you, down the exposed skin of your collarbone and across your shoulders. He examines the way Zayne sighs heavily, the dark-haired man laying a heavy arm across your stomach and settling in.

“We could share secrets, or braid each other’s hair.” Caleb says a bit quieter as he notices Zayne’s eyes closed.

“Or,” Zayne rumbles into your hair, “We could go to sleep.”

“Bo-ring.” You sing-song. “C’mon, Zayne. It’s a sleepover right?”

Zayne sighs, “Hardly.”

“Zayne was never one for the games, was he?” Caleb teases, “I think he’d lose at Never Have I Ever, for sure.”

You giggle, “Hands up Caleb, I’ll go first.”

Caleb is buzzing when he slowly lifts his hands from the blankets, showing you five flesh fingers and five metallic ones. “Go on then.”

Lifting your own hands you say, “Never have I ever…broken my wrist trying to climb a tree.”

Caleb scoffs and drops a finger, “This is a targeted attack huh? Well, never have I ever kept a secret journal about all the people who were mean to me.”

You playful swat at his hand and drop a finger, “Never have I ever burnt a dish so bad I had to throw away the skillet!”

“Never have I ever gotten lost at the mall and had to call for help.” Caleb is grinning and uses his remaining fingers to poke at your arm.

You huff, “Never have I ever kept a collection of women’s magazines.”

Caleb’s smile drops and his ears turn rosy, “Well, never have I ever practiced writing my name Mrs. Li.”

Your jaw drops, and you feel Zayne stir beside you– finally hearing something worth opening his eyes for. Your face is hot and you swat at Caleb’s hands a little harder, “Never have I ever stolen somebody’s panties from the dirty clothes hamper!”

Zayne is snickering down, barely hiding his laughter from Caleb by hiding behind you.

“You knew?” Caleb screeches, jerking backwards as his entire face turns red.

“Of course I knew!” You dissolve into bubbling laughter, “You were hardly sneaky Caleb!”

Caleb swallows hard and tries to recover as he drops another finger a bit slower this time. “O-okay…well…” Caleb pauses, thinking of some new embarrassing thing he can level at you. “Never have I ever begged someone to spank me.”

“You’re so gross Caleb.” You scold while simultaneously dropping another finger. You’ve both got six fingers left, and you’re not sure if you can handle how much worse this could get. So, you attempt a ceasefire. “Never have I ever…kissed a duck.”

Caleb bursts into laughter, neither one of you dropping a finger. “Kissed a duck? What’s wrong, pipsqueak? Worried about what else I might say?”

“Never have I ever cheated at chess.” Zayne speaks up, and the two of you pause. You can hear the smile in Zayne’s voice and Caleb huffs and drops a finger.

“You’re never gonna’ let me live that down, huh? It happened like twice.” Caleb defends lamely.

“Oh, that’s two fingers then.” You coo and Zayne chuckles airily behind you.

“Never have I ever given myself the flu trying to make snowmen for the girl I like.” Caleb says, grinning like a cat.

Behind you, Zayne tenses and the arm around your waist tightens. When the doctor speaks again, it’s a little harsher, “Never have I ever cried because the girl I liked wouldn’t let me go with her to summer camp.”

Caleb’s eyes light up with a challenge, and you notice that no one is holding up any fingers anymore. Whatever game this is, it’s not the one you intended to play.

“Never have I ever been in a five-way relationship.”

Zayne lifts his head, “Never have I ever been a housekeeper.”

“Hey!” You scold, “There’s nothing wrong with being a housekeeper.”

“Yeah, Zaynie. How rude.” Caleb tacks on.

“You are both children, I swear.” Zayne sighs as he rests his head back down on the pillow next to you, “I’m done with this game, can we sleep now?”

“We haven’t decided who won.” You say a little gentler, “Tie breaker?”

Caleb relaxes back into his pillow and snickers, “I think you might have won this one, pipsqueak.”

“Oh really? That’s not like you to give up victory so easily.” You say with narrowed eyes.

“I just don’t know how much more of my secrets I can take being spilled.” Caleb whines theatrically, “Mercy, please….”

You laugh and turn a little more towards him, reaching out, “Alright, then. Mercy.”

Caleb blinks a little stunned. You’re offering a hand to him, inviting him closer, and he looks like he can’t believe his eyes.

Caleb takes so long to move that Zayne opens one eye and sighs, “She’ll get cold if she doesn’t have someone else. Move over, and go to sleep.”

Zayne acquiescence to Caleb’s presence is the final nail in the coffin. The brunette slides closer into your inviting arms, curling up on the other side of you. Slotting himself into the curve of you and he can’t help but feel like he belongs there.

This is where he’s always meant to be. Every inch of skin he can press against you is taken advantage of, without preamble or further permission he hooks his legs around your, letting the bare skin of your inner thighs squish together and its perfect.

Every nerve ending in his body was made to receive you. To experience the softness of your skin. The flush of heat from your blood. The incandescent scent perspiring through your perfect pores.

Caleb isn’t sure he’ll be able to sleep, wrung out too raw like a stripped wire. Flurries of celestial sparks buzzing inside him.

His mind halts in its crazed worship of you and this when a heavy weight falls on his shoulder. Zayne’s hand, moving to rest so casually on the top of his arm– not holding, not moving, just…resting.

An anchor that ties the three of you together, and a band of protection across your chest that makes something primal and dark settle in Caleb’s chest.

For the first time in weeks, in months, in years– perhaps the first time in this lifetime, Caleb can feel the insomnia retreat from his mind. Even when cuddled next to you as children, the threat of Ever snatching you kept him awake, but now? Now there is no Ever, and Zayne is here. A web of protection woven from the threads of dedication from this peculiar love group you’ve founded. What a perfect place to be…his mind purrs as he finally finally sleeps.

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sun-and-flames · 3 months ago

Text

A Rising Dawn - Chapter 6

Mydei x (female) Reader

Fic Rating: Mature (will change for chapter 7)

Chapter Length: 3.5k

Fic Status: Ongoing (6/8)

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Learning to Trust, Sweet, Wholesome, basically no angst, no use of y/n, smut in chapter 7, set before the events of 3.0

Author’s Notes: Thank you all so much for your lovely feedback on the fic and last chapter especially! It makes my day to see that you're enjoying the fic so much <3

Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Summary: In the Holy City, daily life remained the same for the citizens despite the threat of the Black Tide lurking beyond the city’s borders.

But sometimes, a brief encounter can bring about a new dawn for its residents. Chrysos Heirs and regular citizens alike.

Even more so when the Golden Thread has tied your fates together a long time ago.

You made it a habit to establish this physical contact with Mydei whenever you met. Reaching for his hand, holding it to your face - something about it was so tender and soothing, even if it was only you who initiated it - and allowing yourself to feel.

Naturally, encounters on the street or at the store did not allow for such things. Neither did it give you the chance to do it at your own pace and for how long you wanted nor were you comfortable with people - crowds - around you.

You couldn’t imagine Mydei took pleasure in that either.

Though, the store did grant you some opportunities. At least whenever you took care of his order, it allowed you to brush his hands when handing him his fruits or taking his payments.

Little steps, little successes for you. For with each of these moments you felt the trembling ceasing, your hesitation fading. And the feeling left behind - once the anxiety has vanished - engulfed your heart in a warmth and tingling sensation that made you forget about the rocky road to get here.

It also made you look forward to any future meeting with him.

How did it get to this point?

It felt like you both missed an important conversation about what was going on. But then, you really didn’t know either and were just seeing - trying - where this was leading you to.

Maybe… Mydei had no clue either.

You shook your head as you made your way to the training grounds. It’s been a few days. Mydei has been occupied with his duties and although you have seen him from afar in the city, he wasn’t lingering, wasn’t wasting time, so you didn’t approach him.

You gave him time and space just as he was and…

… you knew he would approach you eventually once time permitted.

You smiled to yourself. That was why you were on your way to the training grounds now after all. In the Early Hour today he had approached the store, buying pomegranates and letting you know he’d be available if you were free after work.

How eagerly you had agreed…

The kids haven’t approached you today, they attended another class organized by Lady Tribios, so that gave you ample time.

Mydei was waiting for you already when the training grounds came into view. He stood in the middle of the small fighting area, arms crossed in front of his chest as he gazed into the distance, contemplating, lost in thought. Kephale’s light in the beginnings of the Parting Hour flooded the training grounds dimmer than before, though still as bright as the sun. It caught the tips of his hair and reflected off the accessories he wore until you believed Kephale himself made him shine.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

You adjusted the basket hanging from your elbow and approached him. He acknowledged and greeted you with a nod and watched as you placed the basket on the wall, the same spot as usual as you noticed yourself in that moment.

Huh… Coming here really has become a habit at this point.

“How was your mission, Mydei?” you asked once you stepped onto the training field and retrieved a training sword from the shelves at its sidelines.

“More Titankin have attempted to get closer to the city,” he replied and got a sword like you. A silent agreement to continue your training. “We’ve got rid of them for now. But until we know why their numbers have increased in such proximity to the city guards and patrols have been increased.”

“Is Okhema in danger?”

“Mmph,” he huffed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Your question clearly amused him.

“There are still two demigods in the city. And I will not leave either.”

There were implications there. Hidden within his words. Yet, you couldn’t decipher them or didn’t want to be hopeful when you still had no idea whatever it was between the two of you.

Still, he was right. Lady Aglaea and Tribios were still in the city. There was no safer place in Amphoreus than Okhema.

You took your place in front of him, a safe distance between you, and raised your sword, your stance like he has shown you before.

Mydei didn’t take a stance. Instead he turned the sword in his hand - you tried not to stare at the way his fingers moved around the hilt - and looked at you as if contemplating something.

“Ready for the next step?”

“Huh?” you looked at him in question, the tension in your body slackening for a moment.

A moment long enough that you almost didn’t manage to react on time.

A whirl of colors and the dull sound of wood clashing and you felt yourself being pushed backwards. You slid over the ground as if it was polished stone.

Only when you came to a halt and the blood rushing in your ears calmed down did you get a moment to assess whatever just happened.

Mydei stood where you’ve stood before, but the distance between you remained the same. And only when you saw how he lowered the sword - a smirk playing at the corners of his lips - and you spotted the trail you left behind in the granular ground as you were sliding backwards, did you register that Mydei has pushed you backwards.

That was hardly all his strength - didn’t come close - but he still never used enough pressure to push you back like this.

Alright, you got the message.

Still, you couldn’t ignore the spark of pride igniting within you. Him wanting to use more of his strength, push you further in your training must mean you have been improving. You have gotten better and the realization of it brought a wave of determination with it.

You adjusted your stance again.

“I’m ready.”

———————

You have improved.

As your swords clashed he didn’t deny that. Your arms still shook from the impact - sometimes holding back didn’t come easy and rendered his blows still too strong - and you were still defending rather than attempting to push back, but beyond that he could see the improvements, even if you perhaps didn’t register them yet yourself.

Your stance remained more balanced, the tension in your body more controlled. The reason you managed to remain on your feet before the match began when he had pushed you back.

Not enough progress to truly keep up with him - aside from that Deliverer no one could - but even such small steps could make the difference between life and death in a real battle.

Your weapons clashed again as you managed to block another blow from him, but the sound you let out - strained and through clenched teeth - didn’t escape him. He took you in. Exhaustion was written all over you. Your gaze, your posture, the strength behind your movements…

“Giving up?” he asked. Taunted you.

“No, I can do this.”

His lips curved upwards into a smile. Content. Proud. But he saw right through you. Your arms trembled, beads of sweat formed on your skin, and with each passing moments your sword rested heavier in your hands.

He indulged you for a while longer. Pushed you beyond your limits. But as he watched how you took a step back to evade his range after blocking another blow, he decided to end it.

You couldn’t raise the sword anymore, you attempted to avoid clashing with him. You stood no chance to last another attack from him. Regardless of how much strength he allowed himself to use.

He provoked you. Forced you to block his next swing. And kept the pressure up. He didn’t allow you to break off to the side or jump a step back. Unless you lost the grip on your sword or gave up you were stuck.

He won.

However, he had to commend your attempt. You didn’t yield. Tenacity he has found in you before but that never failed to impress.

He didn’t say any of it out loud.

When you didn’t allow yourself to give up, Mydei put more pressure on his sword. But instead of pushing down he pushed you back. Like before. Made you slide backwards over the ground. Just this time he followed you. The contact between your swords never vanished. Never faltered.

Only when your back met the small wall you usually sat on did the surprise and strain cause you to loosen the pressure on your sword.

It fell to the ground with a dull sound.

And left you with Mydei holding his wooden sword to your neck, his free hand bracing himself on top of the wall behind you as he stood in front of you.

Caging you between the wall and his body. Trapping you.

Something in the air shifted around you. As if Oronyx halted time themselves, drowning out everything that happened outside of you and him and made everything in front of him so much clearer. Vivid. Tangible.

You were close.

Too close.

He caught the hint of citrus from your hair, recognized all the shades of color in your eyes, noticed the faint flush of your cheeks…

He should pull back. Retreat and give you space.

So, why couldn’t he bring himself to do it? Why were his eyes drawn to your lips, slightly parted as your breath left you too quickly? Why was he so intrigued - captivated - by the sudden proximity? By you?

This was not like the embrace you’ve shared before. This wasn’t his heart seeking this warmth and comfort that calmed the itching in his veins. Something else tugged at his soul. Made him yearn for the contact. Something deeper. Hungrier.

It shouldn’t take all his willpower to pull away.

But, when he finally did and pushed himself off the wall, you caught the collar of his clothes. And tugged.

Not enough to throw off his balance but it caught him off guard enough that he had to brace himself on the wall again.

He caught your eyes. Caught the fire within them, overshadowing the hesitation and the nervousness that usually accompanied your movements when you found yourself in these situations with him.

Neither of you broke that eye contact. Your hold on his clothes didn’t relent. He didn’t pull back to put that distance between you either.

And before he realized it, he gave in. Mydei followed that cry of his soul. That instinct. This yearning rooted so deeply within his soul. Unfamiliar. Yet it burned and set his very soul ablaze.

And cupped your cheeks with his hands.

———————

The gauntlets felt cool on your heated skin.

This was new. It’s always been you who took a hold of his hand, always. Never him. Never both hands.

The feel and sight of the metal so close to you was daunting and it sent a shiver down your spine. Yet, you didn’t flinch. Your body didn’t recoil, you didn’t want to move away. And despite how intimidating the gesture - and he himself - could be, the touch on your skin was gentle. He hovered over your skin more than applying any actual pressure.

You realized you could withdraw at any moment.

But, you didn’t.

You wanted this. Wanted him. Right here and now with you and you yearned to know if this would feel as nice - as warm and safe - as being wrapped up in his arms had felt.

His breath fanned over your face. First like a faint breeze, then clearer. Warm. Inviting.

You met each other halfway. You couldn’t tell who pulled or leaned in closer, but within a heartbeat your lips found each other.

The kiss stunned you, the contact washing over you like a flood clearing your mind and soul from everything that wasn’t him. There was no fear, no panic, not even a lingering hesitation.

Just incredible warmth.

Mydei’s lips were soft. So much softer and warmer than you had anticipated. They molded against yours with such gentle pressure, as if afraid to hurt you, as if not daring to reach for more and it made your heart swell inside your chest.

Your hand reached up to gently clasp it over his. Not to push him away, but to keep him there. To keep the contact, to not give up on that warm, comforting feeling of his lips on yours, of his hands cradling your face…

Neither of you truly knew what was happening or what you were doing. To anyone else the way you kissed and held each other may have been considered clumsy, uncertain, but that lightheaded feeling spreading through you, clouding your mind and cradling your soul in such pleasant emotions, felt so good.

And so right.

His hair brushed your face as he tilted his head, following an instinct that let him kiss you more, kiss you longer. Deeper. The pressure firmer than before now, but it lost none of its gentle touch. And it made you exhale harder through your nose as you let yourself fall into him.

When you both pulled back, you couldn’t tell whether the moment had lasted mere seconds or if the hour of the day has changed already.

But as you looked at him - at the slightly swollen lips, the faintest hue of red on his cheeks, these gorgeous eyes burning brighter than Kephale’s light - and took in that lingering warmth and joy within you, you had to admit it to yourself…

You wanted more of it.

———————

If Mydei imagined it before that you haven’t tried to avoid physical contact with him there was no doubt about it ever since that day on the training grounds and the affection you’ve shared.

Something had shifted between the two of you.

Something that he neither disliked nor really questioned either. He embraced it. Sought it out. And gave in to the comfort he found in your presence.

The way it stilled the itching in his veins, how elated it made him feel after being engulfed by your warmth and proximity…

Kremnoan he might be - strong, glorious, and proud - but in this instance he allowed himself to be weak. If this was what it meant to be weak - seeking refuge and comfort within another person - he would turn his back on ancient traditions and welcome a new dawn instead without doubts.

The hesitation - uncertainty - to fully embrace and accept all this came from another source. And as he watched a small group of young Kremnoan men stroll through the lively streets of Okhema below his spot on the roofs it became all the more apparent.

So much to do. To consider.

He observed how these men engaged in friendly bantering, examining weapons at the shop, he caught words such as “warriors never back down” and “one day we’ll battle those Titankin until we meet our glorious ends”… He gritted his teeth.

But he also saw people holding hands in the streets, saw them engaging in embraces and kisses - some lingered, some remained fleeting - and to think that he could have that very same thing, stirred something within him.

The part of him that he kept concealed by never-ending duties and responsibilities - as a Chrysos Heir, as the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos - longed for it. Looked forward to your next encounter. It was the sense of normality he yearned for. The change he craved for his people.

If only he knew where the Flame-Chase journey would lead him.

If only he knew where fate would lead his people.

And yet, when he caught sight of you out of his peripheral vision as you found your way on top of the roofs, he couldn’t deny how some of the tension lifted off his soul like a leaf in the wind.

He didn’t turn his body to you as you approached him with slow steps but a look to the side showed him your small smile, the soft curve of your brows…

You looked relaxed. Playing with the kids after work today hasn’t taken a toll on you. Many would consider dealing with a group of small kids an exhaustive task. Demanding. Straining. Yet, you carried that responsibility on your shoulders with ease and even if no one ever asked it of you.

He admired that about you. Even before he’s ever spoken to you.

You slipped your hand around his arm and into his own hand when you came to stand next to him. He felt the faint pressure of your fingers slide over his palm and in-between his own - armored - fingers, linking your hands together. Before you - slowly but with no hesitation - leaned against his arm that wasn’t covered by fabric and armor.

Having you seek him out like this, leaning into this immortal body that didn’t know anything but the brutality of death and the agony of rebirth was so… intimate.

Despite it all, his body - or was it more than that? - gave you something that made you push past all that you knew about him. And all that has held you back before.

His hand clasped yours a bit tighter. Reassuringly. Letting you know how alright he was with this without speaking a single word.

He liked it this way.

“I got something, I need to tell you,” you said. He looked at you but you didn’t look up. You kept your hold on his arm, your cheek leaning against his skin, but your gaze was unfocused, directed at nothing in particular.

“What is it?” he asked as you didn’t continue.

A frown appeared on your face but you took a deep breath before continuing. You still avoided meeting his eyes, however.

“I want to spend the Curtain-Fall Hour with you. At least… I wanna try.”

He looked at you. Blinked. The words echoed in his head and the implications of it grabbed a hold of his mind. He’s heard you. No doubt about the meaning of your words either.

But…

“Are you sure of that?” he asked and he realized he probably could’ve phrased it in a more delicate way given the subject but he was caught off guard. Puzzled.

He recalled how it felt to hug you, to feel your lips against his own… but he also remembered how panicked you’ve been before when he had grabbed your wrist.

Still, you have changed. You never flinched or recoiled from his touch before. Even now, as you clung to his arm, there was no trembling, no hesitation to lean into him…

Mydei looked down at you as he awaited your reply and his eyes softened when he saw how you grabbed the crystal around your neck and held it against your heart.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I trust you,” you took a deep breath before a smile appeared on your lips again. You looked up at him before you closed your eyes and leaned further into his side. “I want this.”

Mydei didn’t know what to say to that. Though, he was afraid if you leaned closer to his chest you would realize how his heart thumped just a bit harder at your words.

He found no lie in your words, no uncertainty in your voice. You, who had every reason to stay away from others. You wanted to indulge further in whatever it was between the two of you. Because you trusted him.

That he wouldn’t hurt you. That he wouldn’t harm you.

That he would - that he could - provide comfort and security with his touch.

It was baffling, unfathomable to him knowing who he was. And yet, something deep within him stirred at the realization of it. Something warm. Something that clouded his mind and left him in a strange haze. One that he should deem dangerous but he couldn’t fight the sense of mirth it brought with it.

He looked down at you.

Your body felt warm against his arm and your hair grazed his skin like… He had nothing to compare your touch to, he had to acknowledge, and yet, is this what a gentle caress felt like?

Whatever it was - your touch, how you leaned into him, how your so much smaller hand felt in his - he enjoyed it. Reveled in it.

And… craved more of it.

He wondered what it would feel like to have you in his arms again like on that balcony. He wanted to know if your touch would soothe him again or if the touch of your lips would captivate him again. Make him yearn for it. For more. For you.

Never something he’s wanted or yearned for. Never something that captivated him among all the bloodshed and agony of death and rebirth on the battlefield all these years.

He’s never wanted an heir either. Still didn’t. And probably never would.

Intimacy has always been a concept out of his reach. Much like anything romantic.

But now…

He took a glimpse at you. Your gentle smile, how you leaned into him, your cheek against his upper arm, fully embracing and welcoming his touch…

Yes, he wanted to give a try to be more… intimate with you too.

#hsr #honkai star rail #mydei #mydei x reader #mydei x you #my fic

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bbystark · 10 months ago

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hi beautiful and wonderful writer, I requested the part 2 of Simon being a bad stalker and I need moreee

It is so gooodddd

♡ badstalker!simon extras ♡

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: just more of what simon would do to make your life easier while he was simultaneously being a lil freak stalker. mdni

a/n: thank you sm for requesting pt 2 and more anon ily!!! i bet you guys thought i up and left again, surprise, i am no longer depressed and am manic and full of inspo. enjoy xoxoxo

simon was constantly around, lurking in shadows. and when he couldn't be near you physically, he was watching you through the cameras, stalking socials, you name it

he didn't really want to admit it to himself, but he felt guilty when he was deployed or was otherwise taken away from you.

that's really where the (strange) acts of service started, he was trying to ease his guilt of not being there to protect you by doubling down with his affections when he could

it started with things you would never know about, trailing you home to make sure you got back safely, watching your house as often as he could to make sure no one broke in, one time cleaning up after your cat broke a glass while you were gone. "bad cat arn't ya" he had mumbled, "gonna giv your mum a heart attack one of these days when I ain't around."

then he was leaving you umbrellas when he had watched you forget one in the morning as you left for work. linking prepaid cards to some of your random bills, smiling to himself as he watched you discover you "magically" had a few extra dollars left over at the end of the month and bought yourself something special.

hated seeing you sad, thought you deserved nothing but pure happiness 24/7. called and complained to corporate about a fellow employee you were having issues with, making up some lie to get them in trouble all to prevent you from dealing with the stress of workplace drama

he can think of dozens upon dozens of times he silently showed his devotion to you. it always left him with a whole feeling, like he was finally doing something right.

he didn't realize it, but being silent and distant stopped being enough for him when he was sitting in his bunk one night, drowning out soap's god-awful snores with your voice drifting through his cheap earbuds.

you were on call with a friend, and simon couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips when you giggled at something dumb your friend had said.

"i'm serious! this has to be my year or something, i'm having the best luck ever and i have no idea why."

he went a little rigid at that, feeling the overwhelming need for you to know it was him making your life so good, not some mysterious force of the universe.

it got worse after that

he'd watch you sleep, adjusting you when your neck was in an uncomfortable position, (bad time to be a heavy sleeper), shooing your cat away from bothering you, re-cover you when you'd seek out the blankets you had kicked off 10 seconds prior.

started hanging out in your house a lot, desperate to be as close as you as possible. military training would kick in as he would silently organize forgotten corners of your house, cleaning spaces you wouldn't have bothered with because you never see them

even replaces the batteries in the smoke alarm when he realizes there were none, knowing you had probably taken them out to make it stop chirping and forgotten to replace them. hides a carbon dioxide alarm too, just in case

he was feeling particularly desperate one day and took a shower, lathering himself in your scented body wash while working his fist up and down his swollen cock, imagining you were with him. you were mortified when you return home to see drops of water still dripping from the walls of your shower.

he flies too close to the sun, getting sloppy. you're suddenly more on edge, casting more glances over your shoulder. he stops making as many visits to your house when you start seeing a therapist.

that doesn't stop him from reaching out in other ways though, leaving notes, calling you, sending texts and random gifts.

this time his advances scare you a little less, and intrigue you more than they should.

he almost wishes he had been more careful. almost. he can't deny the thrill that goes through him at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he isn't deluded, and this could actually work.

he'd just have to wait and see.

besides, he wasn't exactly confident in his ability to leave you alone whether you wanted him to or not. and that is something he could promise.

#badstalker!simon #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #stalker!simon #stalker!ghost #stalker x reader #yandere x reader #cod x reader #simon x reader #x reader #smut #cod

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sunny44 · 1 year ago

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A baby here

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader

Warnings: pregnancy talks and

Summary: now it’s real, no mistakes on the ultrasound stories.

This was a request, hope it was what you imagined.

Previous Part

After that day, I kept thinking about how happy he was, believing I was pregnant even though I wasn't really. It made me more certain that he's the one I want to be the father of my children.

So, after that day, we decided that when we felt like it, we wouldn't use protection but it was all very laid-back—if it happened, great, but if not, that was fine too.

But eventually, it happened and I decided to do the same thing as last time, but this time, I made my stories visible only for him to see since I was going out again with my sister.

Yourusername Instagram stories

@charlesleclerc replied to your stories

Babe, you're posting your sister's ultrasound again 😂

I felt like responding, but I ignored it and showed it to my sister, who laughed too.

We continued shopping and I stopped in front of a baby clothing store, watching and thinking that in a few months, Charlie and I would be dressing our baby in those tiny outfits.

“Why not surprise him?” She said, stopping beside me. “He did it for you when he thought you were pregnant, so now that you are, it would be nice to put a little outfit along with the test.”

“I already have an outfit; I had a onesie made like the Ferrari overalls.”

“He'll love it.”

“I'm sure he'll only dress her in that.”

“Her?” My sister asked.

“I don't know, I have a feeling it's a girl.” I touched my belly.

“Regardless of what comes, you two will be great. But Charles was born to be a girl's dad.” I smiled at her.

“Yeah, I know.” I smiled, imagining the two of them.

“Well, I think we should go; Mike said he took Charles out of the house and they're on the boat organizing things for our day tomorrow so it's the perfect time for you and me to plan a surprise for him.”

...

We organized everything for the surprise, I made his favorite pasta, set the table with candles and prepared the little box with the surprise. When he came home, he was more excited than usual, hugging and kissing me all over my face.

“What's with all this excitement?” I asked as he looked around.

“What is all this? I'm sure I didn't forget our anniversary or anything.”

“You didn't and I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Thank you love, everything looks beautiful.”He gave me a peck. “And this excitement is because I stopped by your sister's with Mike, helped him with some things for the baby's room and got excited about when we're going to decorate ours.” I held back tears and didn't tell him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I'm just hungry.” He laughed.

“I'll take a quick shower and be right down, okay?” I agreed, and he rushed upstairs.

I arranged our food on the plates, lit the candles and when I finished, he was coming down.

“Hmm, you even made my favorite pasta.”

“Come on, let's eat.”

After dinner and after declining the wine, we talked a lot until I decided it was time.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Another one?” He asked as I got up.

“Yes.”

“I also have something for you.”

“Okay, do you want to go first?”

“Yes.” He took a deep breath.

“Okay.” I left the little box on the counter.

“You are the best thing that has happened in my life so far. You came into my life when I was at my worst after losing my father, and you helped me overcome and not get lost in grief. I honestly don't know what I would do without you, and I don't even want to think that this could happen someday. You are the love of my life, and I have no doubt about that.” I was already crying, and I cried more when he knelt in front of me, opened the box with a ring inside. “So, would you make me the happiest man in the world by marrying me?”

“Charlie.” I said, crying. “Of course, I'll marry you.”

He smiled, putting the ring on my finger and kissing me. He wiped the tears from my face and gave me a peck.

“What did you want to give me?” He asked after letting me go.

“Here.” I handed him the box, and he left it on the counter, opening it.

“I don't understand.” He said, taking out the Ferrari onesie from the box. “Did you want to show it to me before giving it to your sister?”

“It's not for her.” I said, taking the pregnancy test and handing it to him. “The ultrasound I posted wasn't hers; it's mine.”

“What?” He widened his eyes. “You're pregnant?”

“Yes.” And more tears streamed down my eyes, but now Charles's eyes too.

“We're having a baby?” I nodded. “We're having a baby.”

He said and hugged me tightly; I heard him sniffle and laugh with happiness, and when he let go, he kissed me.

“Did you like it? The little outfit.” He laughed.

“I loved it; it looks just like it.” He said, looking. “It will definitely be the outfit I'll put on our baby the most.”

“I'm 100% sure about that.” I smiled at him, and he folded and put the outfit back in the box.

“Can we use the guest room for the baby's room and turn the office into the new guest room, or can we move to a bigger place?” He started talking. “I heard there's a vacant apartment one floor below Max's building; we could be neighbors, and...”

“Charles, calm down; you're talking so much you're getting out of breath.” I smiled at him, and he gave me a peck. “We don't need to do anything now; we can think about it calmly.”

“I know, but I'm so excited, and I really want to buy things for the room, but we need to know where we're going to live.”

“Well, I love living here, but it's a bit small, and since we're starting a family, maybe living in a slightly bigger place would be good.”

“Well then, I'll schedule a visit to that apartment before the season starts.”

“Okay.” I smiled and gave him a peck.

“What do you think it is?” He asked, running his hand over my belly.

“I have a feeling it's a girl.”

“Well, I don't mind; whatever comes, we'll love unconditionally.” He said. “But I always saw myself as a girl's dad, so...”

“My sister said you look like a girl's dad.” He smiled.

“Well, I agree with her.” He hugged me. “How about we go upstairs and lie down?”

“I think it's a great idea.” He picked me up and took me to our room.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“This last few months have been the best ones in my life, I’m about to become Mrs. Leclerc and a mommy.”

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winchesterdreamgirl88 · 6 months ago

Text

Birthday Confessions

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's Dean's birthday and the reader throws him a party:)

Word Count: 1000

Warnings: None

A/n: In honor of Dean's birthday here's a little imagine I wanted to write. Hope you guys like it:)

Imagines Masterlist

Song/Album Masterlist

It had been another grueling hunt, but that was nothing new for you, Sam, and Dean. You'd been living and hunting with the Winchester brothers for what felt like ages now, becoming part of the strange family they’d built for themselves. It wasn’t always easy—life on the road, constantly fighting monsters and demons—but there was an unspoken bond between the three of you. The kind of friendship that made everything a little more bearable.

The unspoken part, though, was the secret that you and Dean had been carrying around. Both of you had developed feelings for the other, but neither of you had said a word about it. You were friends, and it felt like risking that closeness would be dangerous. So, you kept things buried, hiding the soft glances and lingering touches that neither of you could quite explain.

But then, Dean’s birthday was coming up, and you had the perfect plan in mind. You knew he hated making a big deal about it, but you wanted to do something special. Sam, ever the planner, was all in.

“Dean is not going to see this coming,” Sam said with a mischievous grin when you shared your idea. You’d been secretly organizing everything: decorating the bunker, ordering food, and even planning a little surprise cake. It was going to be perfect, and you hoped it would be enough to make Dean smile, maybe even get him to forget about the weight of the world for just a little while.

Dean came in late that evening, looking more tired than usual. He had just finished dealing with some local creatures—nothing too major, but enough to drain him. When he entered the main room of the bunker, he froze.

“What is all this?” he asked, his tone half-surprised, half-amused.

You were standing by the large table you’d set up, trying to hide your excitement. “Happy birthday, you big lug,” you said, trying to sound casual, though your heart was hammering in your chest.

Dean blinked, his lips curling into a smile as he took in the decorations—banners, balloons, a few cheesy “Happy Birthday” signs that Sam had insisted on. There were pizzas on the table and a homemade cake that you had definitely put your heart into making.

“No way…” Dean chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in disbelief. “You actually threw me a party?”

Sam, leaning against the wall with a smug grin, shrugged. “What can I say? We know you’re too stubborn to admit you like a good celebration.”

Dean shook his head, smiling like he didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or impressed. “You guys are nuts.”

You all spent the evening together—eating, drinking, and playing a few rounds of cards. For a few hours, there were no monsters, no demons, just the three of you enjoying each other’s company. It felt normal. It felt like home. But as the night wore on, the laughter faded, and soon enough, it was just you and Dean left in the room.

He was sitting on the couch, his beer in hand, looking at the cake you had carefully decorated. You took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. The weight of everything—of how you’d never told him how you felt, of how he might never feel the same way—hung in the air like a cloud.

“Hey, Dean,” you started, hesitating. “I’m really glad you liked it. I wanted to do something special for you.”

He looked over at you, his eyes softening. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know. But... I appreciate it. A lot. It’s been a long time since anyone’s thrown me a birthday party.”

You nodded, your throat tight. It felt like the right moment to say what had been building up inside of you for so long. “Yeah, well… I think you deserve it. You do a lot for everyone else, and you don’t always get the credit for it.”

Dean’s smile faltered, and he looked at you more seriously. “I don’t need credit. But… thanks.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to continue. But before you could second-guess yourself, you blurted it out. “I like you, Dean.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a second, everything went quiet. The words hung between you like a delicate thread, both of you too scared to say anything else. But Dean didn’t look away. Instead, he looked at you like he was searching for something—something he’d known but hadn’t been able to admit.

“I like you too,” he said quietly, his voice low and almost hesitant.

For a long moment, you both just sat there, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted. Dean put his beer down on the table, his expression softening, and then he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your hand.

“I didn’t want to mess things up,” he admitted. “This… whatever this is between us.”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with relief. “Yeah. Me neither.”

And then, before either of you could second-guess it, you closed the space between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt both exhilarating and familiar. It was slow, lingering, like you both had been waiting for this moment for so long. When you finally pulled back, you could feel the warmth of the moment in your chest.

Dean grinned, a little shy now, but there was a new light in his eyes. “Well, that’s one hell of a birthday gift.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I guess I can’t top that, huh?”

“Not unless you’ve got another surprise up your sleeve,” Dean said with a smirk, his hand still resting near yours.

“I think that was the best surprise I could give,” you replied, your heart full as you leaned back into the couch beside him.

And for the first time, you both knew it wasn’t just about hunting or surviving anymore. It was about being together—no longer hiding behind the walls you’d built around each other.

It was finally real.

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deathbyclown · 6 months ago

Text

Tease Pairing: Crocodile/Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 3700

Summary: Crocodile needs you to come along for an investor's meeting, but today is your anniversary. You maliciously comply, teasing him the whole time, but things take a negative turn and Crocodile is angry.

Crocodile is a cruel and abusive partner in this.

Warnings: This is an unhealthy and abusive relationship. The sex is NON-CONSENSUAL. Reader does not have a healthy view on her relationship with Crocodile. She will delude herself; she is convinced she loves Crocodile and he loves her.

AO3 Link

You sat at your vanity, your makeup and hair products lined up, perfectly organized. You glanced at yourself in the mirror, the face looking back at you clearly disappointed. No amount of makeup would cover that. You could thank your partner for that, ruining your whole evening with just a few words.

You spent all day making everything perfect for your anniversary. You made sure the bed was ready; the pillows perfectly fluffed and his favorite (ugly) comforter topping the bed. You spritzed your perfume on the covers, and brushed some through your hair, the one that he bought for you, that he loved to smell on you. You had his favorite whiskey and cigars ready, a special ice cube in the shape of a wani, pressed and staying chilled. You wore the lingerie set that always drove him wild, with all the belts and straps and lace, practically see through, soft and silky to the touch, with an open crotch, so he could fuck you while you wore it. So he could run his hand over your body and feel every piece squeezing your body, pushing out every squishy part of you.

You thought of everything, made the evening absolutely perfect, you were the best girlfriend ever tonight! And how did he greet you when he came into the room?

“Have you been laying there all day? Get up, we have an investors meeting. I need you to distract them while I talk them into accepting the deal I’ve written up.” He poured himself two fingers of the whiskey you set out for him and took a sip, leaving you with your mouth hanging open on the bed.

“Hurry up, the meeting’s in 30 minutes.” He said with a glance, and he paused as he looked over your body as you sat up.

“Why are you half-naked?” He asked, lighting one of the nice cigars you laid out.

“Baby, it’s our anniversary.” You said slowly, hoping that this was a trick, that he hadn’t forgotten and that he was just playing some kind of prank on you.

He raised one eyebrow and scoffed. “It’s next week.”

“No it’s not! It’s today!” You insisted loudly, sliding off of the bed, hurrying over to him.

He took a step forward to close the distance between both to you and ran his hook through your hair. You had to crane your neck to look up at him but you could tell he was looking at your body appreciatively.

“You look good, kitten, but you need to get dressed. We’ll celebrate our anniversary next week like I planned.” He bent down and kissed your cheek. You opened your mouth to argue but he put a finger to your lips.

“You have 29 minutes.” He murmured, the smoke from his cigar wafting from his lips, into your face.

So now you had to rearrange your whole evening, re-do your makeup, your hair, your clothes! Your lingerie set was not easy to get out of! Usually Crocodile liked unwrapping you, slowly pulling off the pieces, his mouth and fingers following behind. But now you had to undo every clasp, untie every string, slide off each piece of thin fabric until you had only ten minutes left. You were so pissed off, hurriedly digging through your closet to find something nice to wear, when your eyes landed on one of your most revealing dresses, something you couldn’t wear any underwear with, that left very little to the imagination.

Oh, you would go to this stupid meeting with Crocodile, but you wouldn’t be distracting his investors, oh no, you were going make him regret forgetting your anniversary

You squeezed into your dress, looked over your hair and makeup once more, and met Crocodile in your shared room. He sat in his armchair, relaxed, smoking his cigar, sipping his whiskey, reading a newspaper. He looked over at you and did a double take, his lips turning down just slightly, his lower jaw shifting off center as he took in your appearance. He set down his drink and the paper as you approached, letting you sit on the arm of his chair.

“It’s a bit much for a group of strangers, isn’t it?” He tried to sound light about it, but you could hear the jealousy loud and clear.

You gave him a faux pout and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek, the smell of his aftershave, spicy and familiar.

“I just threw on the first dress I could find. Do you not like it?” You stuck your lip out further and he huffed, his hand moving to skim over the bare skin of your thigh.

“It’s fine. We’re running late.” He pinched the inside of your leg as he stood from his seat. He herded you out the door and into the elevator that would take you to the main floor of the casino.

Crocodile rarely did business on the house floor, only by request or if the potential clients were rich. And it seemed that tonight’s investors were the latter. They were practically gleaming compared to most of the people mulling around. They looked sleek, out of place, clearly foreign, but still impeccably dressed.

Surprisingly only one or two of them spared a glance at you, all of their attention turning to Crocodile the moment he approached them. They bombarded him with questions about the casino as soon as they finished shaking hands. Really boring nitty gritty questions about win-rates and cash flow and debts. The kind of conversation you were familiar with at this point, enough so that you could probably answer their questions yourself.

But instead you had to play arm candy for Crocodile tonight, which was feeling more and more like a waste of your time. These investors treated you like you weren’t even there, less than a pet, not even a slight acknowledgement to your presence. Crocodile needed you to distract them tonight? Hah! Maybe if you were a binder full of statistics they’d be interested.

It didn’t matter. It was to your benefit, really. Crocodile had his attention full with the chattering group, and you were being fully ignored. What better time to bother Crocodile?

You started small, leaning into him as you sipped your cocktail. Not enough for him to look at you, maybe not even enough for him to think about you, but it was enough for him to get used to your touch. You slid closer, making your thighs touch, your weight against his arm now had him aware of your proximity. He didn’t look at you, just lifted his left arm and wrapped it around you, his golden hook pressing into your hip to keep you close.

Good. He thought he was in control, that he was probably doing you a favor, keeping you so close to him, keeping you warm. Let him keep thinking he’s such a big shot, perfectly organized and planned.

You crossed your legs, your left leg on top, your calf and foot brushing against his shin. Still he didn’t move. You placed your hand on his knee, unmoving, but clearly present. He didn’t react…until you slowly started sliding your hand up his leg, your fingers dragging against the inside of his thigh.

You felt him nudge the rounded part of his hook into your hip, a warning. One that you would ignore. Your hand rested on his upper thigh; your movement stopped for now. He seemed to relax marginally, still chatting easily with the investors, who were now two drinks in and beginning to talk over one another.

Now it was time to see how far you could push him. You brought your hand over to his crotch, cupping him through his pants. You felt his body twitch, his hook pressing roughly into your side. But you were undeterred, spurred on by the feeling of him in your hand. He felt large, even while flaccid, the warm soft feeling of him in your hand sent a sharp pang of need straight through you. You didn’t want to be here, you wanted to be in your room, touching him freely, without the barriers. But if all went to plan, hopefully you’d get that soon enough.

Gently you rubbed your fingers over him, mapping the soft length of him, his girth, the ridge of his head. You could feel him starting to grow, the subtle swelling of his cock under your fingers sent a pleasurable rush straight to your cunt. His hand slid unnoticed from the table and wrapped around your wrist, Crocodile still chatting and gambling with the present company. But his grip on you made your bones ache. He was getting pissed. He let go but didn’t bring his hand back up to the table.

You would have to work quickly, he was clearly paying attention to you now, split between entertaining his guests and fending you off. Your hand stayed on him, unmoving, his cock half-hard and straining against the crotch of his pants, trapped there by the restrictive tailored cut. You subtly rubbed your thumb along his shaft, lightly increasing pressure when you reached the edge of his head. You circled your thumb over his tip, and you heard him sigh, his cock hardening further.

He crossed his legs, trapping your hand between his thighs, pressed flat against his erection. He squeezed his thighs together, the pressure so intense it felt like a vice. He was literally trying to squeeze you out. Bastard. He could try to warn you off, try to dissuade you from touching him, but you wouldn’t stop, not until you got what you wanted.

You wiggled your fingers, his cock hard and thick against your hand. If only he hadn’t caught your hand, you’d be unzipping his pants right now and sliding your fingers into his underwear to grip his hot cock. But you had to make do with the situation that, arguably, you put yourself into.

One of the investors stood and the rest copied him, following him away from the table, as if they were ducklings. Oh, was the meeting over? You didn’t have much time to gather information as you were yanked from your seat, Crocodile holding you close to him, a firm grip on the back of your neck. You stumbled along, but couldn’t help your little self-satisfied smile. He had to walk with his coat closed for once. Wonder why that might be?

“Croc-” you started, wanting to ask him if the meeting was over, but he cut you off immediately.

“Shut up.” He snapped, his teeth clenched deep into his cigar.

He frog-marched you to his private office and threw you to the floor as soon as he closed the door behind him. Your knees ached with the force of your fall and you didn’t have any time to recover. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled up sharply, making you cry out. He crouched down in front of you, puffing smoke into your face as your hands tugged at his wrist to let you go.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He yelled, yanking your hair, your scalp burning, making your eyes tear up. “You think you can play stupid little games with my business on the line? Hm?” You stayed quiet, cold fear freezing you from head to toe. This wasn’t how you wanted this to go. You wanted to poke him a little, irritate him, but it seemed you went to far. You brought out the cruel side of him, angry and uncaring.

“Answer me!” He shouted in your face, ash and spit landing on your cheek.

Tears welled in your eyes and you swallowed hard, trying not to let your voice tremble as you spoke. You were just trying to have a little fun, to make him pay attention to you, but you fucked it up.

“No sir. I’m sorry sir.” You answered him, your voice just above a whisper, your face turned down, unable to look him in the eye.

He threw you down again and stood up, leaving you to struggle your way back into a sitting position. Your head started to ache, your knees and palms burned from being pushed around by Crocodile.

“Sorry isn’t good enough. You’re going to fix this problem you made.” He opened his coat, undid his belt, and unbuttoned his pants, his hand dipping down into the front.

You stared up at him, your eyes as big as saucers. This was what you wanted, maybe not the pain and cruelty, but you wanted him . You just wanted to spend a romantic, intimate evening with your partner for your anniversary. And maybe it wasn’t your original plan for the evening, but you craved him. The two of you were alone and he wanted you to take care of him. What greater intimacy was there than getting on your knees for your lover?

You got into position and opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out, two small tears trailing down your cheeks. He pushed down the front of his pants and pulled out his hard cock. With his hook he held your hair and with his hand he held himself and slapped your face with his heavy dick.

“Selfish annoying slut.” He breathed out, smoke swirled from his lips, his cigar burnt down to nearly nothing. He smacked the head of his dick onto your waiting tongue then shoved in as far as he could, until you choked, until you gagged around him.

He pulled out, to your painted lips, smearing saliva and precum over your mouth and up your cheek, then he thrust back in. Your hands leapt to his thighs, holding on, clawing at him. His cock was burrowed so deep into your throat you thought he would burst through the skin. Your muscles strained, aching as they naturally reacted to the sudden intrusion. You did everything you could to try and relax your throat but he was an overwhelming force.

Yes, you had been able to deep throat him once before, but it was after a lot of preparation. It was during a steamy playful evening you spent together where you had his patience, his encouragement, and his time. You didn’t have any of those at the moment, but still you tried.

You stretched your mouth as wide as it would go, and still it was a tight fit, your jaw aching as he used your mouth. He didn’t fit entirely, but he was pushing in deep enough with every thrust that you couldn’t breathe, that your body convulsed as you fought your gag reflex.

But he seemed to be enjoying himself, his brows furrowed in pleasure, his eyes dark and shining, light color on his cheeks. You were giving him pleasure, and the idea of that, combined with the taste and feel of him in your mouth made your cunt pulse. You could feel yourself oozing, the slick feeling of your arousal made you clench your thighs together.

You reached down a hand and slipped it between your legs, bare under your dress. It was so easy to push a finger through your gushing slit, to rub your swollen clit, to push your fingers deep inside of yourself.

You moaned around his cock, your hand moving quickly, fingers curling, the butt of your hand rubbing against your clit. You wanted to bob your head, to show him how sorry you were, how good you could be, but he had total control over you. His hand gripped the bottom of your chin, your hair wrapped tightly around his hook, as he fucked your mouth, using you, forcing his cock deeper and deeper into your throat.

Your hand moved faster, pushing three fingers into yourself, stretching yourself open, your arousal slick, dripping down your fingers. You could cum just like this. Maybe Crocodile would cum too, and you could finish together. How romantic would that be?

He pulled out sharply, leaving thick spit to dribble down your chin, and he pulled your head back to look up at him. You had no doubt your face was a mess, but whatever it looked like, or whatever you were doing, he looked displeased.

“Are you getting off on this?” He sneered, his dark shiny shoe nudging at the hand between your legs. You pulled your fingers out of yourself, the sound slick and squelching.

“Yes sir.” You answered, your voice hoarse, barely audible.

“Disgusting whore.” He spit on your face, a big wet glob sliding down your cheek. You reached up a hand to touch it but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up like you were a doll, dragging you to his desk and pushed you face down.

He held you down with his hand flat between your shoulder blades as his hook pulled your dress up to your hips, the fabric ripping at his roughness.

You gasped, squirming as you felt cool air hit your exposed cunt, but he immediately brought his cock head to your folds, rubbing it through your wetness before pushing insistently at your entrance.

“This is how you want to apologize to me?” He thrust forward, the stretch sudden, making you cry out. You clawed at the desk, whining as he forced his way inside.

“This punishment is too good for you.” He pushed the rest of the way in, groaning when you clenched, his dick so large, so deep inside, that you couldn’t take a deep breath, your guts twisting and aching.

He smacked your ass, making you squeeze him, your soft flesh jiggling. He pulled out halfway and slammed back in, knocking the wind out of you. He set a brutal pace, leaving you breathless, your face pressed to the desk, short steamy pants fogging the glossy surface. You tried to lift your hips to get a better angle, but you had no leverage, your feet dangling from the desk, the hard edges digging into your hips, forced in deeper with every thrust.

“Giving me your cunt is the least you can do to even begin apologizing.”

His hook went around your throat, pulling you back slightly, making you arch your back. The cold metal pressed into your windpipe, cutting off your air. Your mouth gaped, trying to pull in air, unable to suck in a breath. Your body lit up with sensation, panic and adrenaline heightened your senses. You pulled at the hook, your nails scratching at your own skin, just trying to gain purchase. Black spots danced over your vision, and you flung one of your arms back to try and get him to understand that you were about to pass out.

“Don’t forget this is your fault. You asked for this.” He removed his hook from around your neck and you swallowed down air, wheezing, unable to fully catch your breath. Crocodile was relentless, pounding into you, fucking you like he hated you.

You felt lightheaded, hot tears trailed down your cheeks. It hurt, but it felt good, like maybe you did deserve this, like you were atoning for something. He bent over you, covering you with his body, resting on his forearms as he hips kept their furious pace. It was so hard, hard enough that the smack of your skin meeting was the loudest sound in the room. And he was fast, aggressive, fucking you like a machine, rocketing you toward an orgasm that was just out of reach.

“I’m going to cum inside of you and you had better thank me afterward, understand?” He panted above you, pressing his body weight against you.

You froze, everything slowing down for a moment. The thought send an icy hot thrill through you. It was terrifying, and arousing. He’d never done that before. He was meticulous about condoms. Why did he want to do it now? Was he trying to show you just how much he wanted to keep keep you?

He wrapped his large hand around your throat and squeezed, shocking you out of your thoughts.

“Answer me, cunt.” He growled.

You bit your lip, a shiver going through you at the feeling of his command, rumbling through his chest and vibrating against you. He had your life, your pleasure, your pain, in his hand.

“Yes sir!” You gasped out as loud as you could, his hand not leaving your throat. Your skin tingled, your whole body flushed, each sense heightened. He had total control over you and all you could do was go along with him and hope you didn’t anger him further.

He grunted in approval and leaned into you, making your lower back and hips ache with the added weight and pressure. You cried out, squirming against him, clawing at the desk. He didn’t let up, his pace remained bruising, and you sobbed out, tears streaming down your face. The pain was starting to feel overwhelming, fear crawled over you, and you worried that he would break your hip bones.

His breath hitched, his hips stuttered and he squeezed your neck tightly, groaning as the first gush of hot cum shot inside of you. You gasped, surprised at the new feeling, your whole body trembling as he filled you up, each spurt of his semen thick and warm.

He stilled inside of you for a moment as he caught his breath, then he stood away from you and pulled out. You laid there, trembling, your legs dangling like they were totally useless. You hissed as he pushed a finger into your puffy pink entrance, your pussy swallowing him in easily, slick with your arousal and his cum. He scooped out his cum, spreading your lips to watch himself ooze out of you.

“Well? Don’t you have something to say?”

“Thank you. I love you.” You breathed out, wiping at the hot and painful tears streaming down your face.

“I thought so.”

He stepped away from you and cleaned himself up, making himself presentable again. You couldn’t get up right now to follow after him even if you wanted to.

“Get cleaned up and go back to my room. I’m not done with you.”

He left and slammed the door shut, leaving you to lay there in the darkness, your body aching and stomach churning. You loved him. But not like this. And you were sure he loved you too. But why did he hurt you like this? You grit your teeth and tried to swallow past the lump growing in your throat. You had to make this right somehow. You knew a sweet and caring Crocodile was in there, you just had to bring him back.

#crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #dead dove do not eat #fanfic #sir crocodile #smut #one piece #reader insert #x reader

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yuri-is-online · 1 year ago

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I'm the anon 🙋🏻‍♀️https://www.tumblr.com/yuri-is-online/746778432131694592/so-you-just-threw-this-beautiful-idea-of?source=share

The lore is very interesting! Angst my beloved. Thanks for the explanation 🐢♥️ Should've asked you much earlier.

One of the reasons why I like this AU is because it reminds me of my parents a little bit. I used to talk to my dad about anything and everything, he explained a lot of things about the world. I also love yapping to my mom when she comes back from work. She calls me a radio🥰

Just imagine it with Yutu! His most favourite person is right here! Sure, he has to watch what he says sometimes, but other than that now he gets to finally spend some time with the younger version of his parent 🥺 just sitting on some surface, talking about something, having the cleaning supplies shoved in the face, being forced to help with cleaning 🥺

Man, I have SO many questions. I'll ask them bit by bit to slowly make you brainrot as much as I do MUAHAHA😈

Oh your mother calling you radio is so cute (ㅠ﹏ㅠ) I also used to talk to my dad a lot about things, he had a very interesting life and I enjoy learning about different people. When those people are your parents it's especially interesting.

And head up high annon, your ask got a lot of people talking about Fyuuture kid AU, so even if you trickle in your asks I guarantee my brainrot is about to get so much worse (●´ω｀●)ゞ

Yutu was always curious about what Yuu's life was like when they were younger, but he never really expected to actually see it. It's hard sometimes, he has a whole set of shared memories that you don't have, if he wants to get technical they aren't even with you, he remembers a version of you and a life he is actively trying to prevent from existing.

But that doesn't change the familiarity, your habits and organization aren't much different than he remembers, you still make some of the same jokes. And when he accidentally cracks an old inside one of yours you still laugh, like some small part of you has an instinct that this is something that belongs to you too. What I think Yutu treasures most is just the ability to talk to you and get your advice on things again. He's always wanted to know what your opinion on Crewel's teaching was, what was your favorite class? Did it take you time to get used to cooking here, or did you just take all the new brands and prices in stride? Do you understand the rules of magishift? He never really got a handle on them, were you a part of any clubs? He wants the joy of being able to tell you about his day again and listen to you tell him he did a good job. And when he gets told to clean things he can't even bring himself to be mad. You forget all the little things you miss about a person when they're gone, not that Yutu missed chores or getting bossed around, but getting to see you look relived when he doesn't complain like Grim. Getting to hear you say "thank you" for his help, it means the whole world to him.

When he's forced to tell you who he is, when he sees you reach out and hold him, tell him you are proud of him and sorry he's suffered so much. He's going to break down, I don't think it really hits him how much he need to hear you say "I won't let anything happen to you ever again" until he does. It took time but you're together again, you can protect each other now ♡

also take a yutu coded song heheh

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au

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ghostlyglimmer · 8 months ago

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Ectoberweek Day 30 Tarot: The World

Summary:

The World: Represents an ending to a cycle of life, a pause in life before the next big cycle beginning with the fool. It is an indicator of a major and inexorable change, of tectonic breadth. AKA Danny has a vital decision to make for the safety of the entire universe

In the heart of the Ghost Zone, the air trembled, pulsing with a strange, foreboding energy. Danny Fenton floated before a rift—an impossible tear where eerie green light fractured into both his world and the human world. It was a sight he’d never imagined: the boundary between life and death, reality and spirit, coming apart.

Beside him, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz stood tense, their faces illuminated by the ghostly glow. All silent, staring with a mixture of pride and dread. They all understood the weight of the decision before him, but only Danny knew what it truly meant.

"Are you sure?" Jazz whispered, her voice a steady anchor despite the shaking in her hands.

Danny nodded, his throat tight. He could feel the Ghost Zone calling to him. It had been growing for years now, a quiet hum in his veins, urging him closer. Every battle, every ghost he’d sent back, had led him here, to this final choice.

He’d fought countless battles to protect both worlds from destruction, but this threat—the collapse of the boundary between realms—was something else entirely. The rift was eating away at the very fabric of existence, and if he didn’t act soon, both the human world and Ghost Zone would be consumed.

"The Zone’s reaching out to you, isn’t it?" Sam asked, looking into his eyes. She understood; she’d always understood. Her hand lingered on his shoulder, grounding him. "It wants you to join it, to stabilize everything."

Danny exhaled, nodding again. “It does. If I… if I merge with the Zone, it’ll seal the rift, strengthen the barrier between our worlds.”

Tucker stepped forward, his expression pleading. "Danny, there has to be another way. You don’t have to… You don’t have to give up everything!"

But they all knew the truth. He’d felt it within him, even before the rift had appeared. His connection to the Zone was deeper than he’d ever wanted to admit. The Ghost Zone wasn’t just another dimension to him—it was a part of him. Its spirits, its very essence, had woven themselves into his core from the moment he first transformed.

“If I do this,” Danny said, his voice thick with emotion, “I won’t be Danny Fenton anymore. I’ll become something else. I’ll be part of the Ghost Zone—its guardian spirit. It means I won’t be able to come back. Not like this.” His gaze drifted over each of them, committing every face to memory.

Sam reached out to grasp Danny’s hand. She was crying, her fingers trembling. "Danny, …. We don’t want to lose you."

He took her hand, squeezing it gently. "You won’t. I’ll still be here. And I’ll still be me… just not like I am now."

Jazz swallowed, fighting back tears. "You’re doing this to protect us. Both worlds."

Danny nodded. “It’s the only way. If I don’t… everything we know, everyone we love, they’ll all die.”

Silence settled over them, broken only by the low, ominous hum of the rift, growing wider and more unstable with every passing second.

Tucker stepped forward, his face resolute despite the tears welling in his eyes. "Then do it, Danny. If this is what you have to do to keep everyone safe… then do it. We’ll never forget you."

Danny felt a surge of warmth, their acceptance fortifying his resolve. He turned to face the rift and took a steadying breath. The energy crackled around him, an invitation and a warning all at once.

Slowly, he stepped forward, raising his hands to the tear. As his fingers touched the edge, an overwhelming surge of power coursed through him. The rift responded, reaching out with tendrils of pure ghostly energy that wrapped around him, pulling him in. The force intensified, and he felt himself being pulled apart, as though every molecule was stretching, merging, fusing with the Zone itself.

Pain, sharp and all-consuming, ripped through him. But with it came clarity, a sense of purpose he’d never known before. He felt the souls of the Ghost Zone flooding into him—old friends, former enemies, lost spirits who’d once haunted him and those he’d saved. Their energy joined with his, intertwining as he became the pulse and heart of the Zone.

With one final surge, he pulled the edges of the rift together, feeling the Ghost Zone shift and settle around him. The rip healed, sealing the boundary between worlds, stabilizing the fragile line between life and death.

But he was no longer Danny Fenton. He was something more, something eternal, and he could feel the entirety of the Ghost Zone stretching out before him—an endless expanse of memories, history, and energy that pulsed with his every thought.

In the human world, his friends and family watched, eyes fixed on the spot where he had stood. The rift was gone, and the green light dimmed. For a long moment, there was only silence, an aching void where Danny had been. Then, as they turned to leave, a gentle breeze swept past, carrying with it a soft whisper, a voice they all recognized.

“I’m still here. I’ll always be here.”

Jazz looked up, her heart filled with a bittersweet ache. She could almost feel Danny’s presence, lingering, like a memory or a dream. Sam and Tucker stood beside her, sharing quiet looks, each knowing they’d never truly be alone as long as the Ghost Zone lived.

For years to come, the people of Amity Park spoke of a new, powerful presence in the Ghost Zone—a spirit unlike any other, one that guarded the balance between worlds with a fierce, protective love. Some said he appeared to lost souls, guiding them back home; others spoke of a gentle, watchful star that kept the worst of the ghostly threats at bay.

And though his family and friends never saw him again, they knew, deep down, that Danny Fenton had found his place—watching over them as the guardian of the realms, at peace and whole, forever.

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echantedtoon · 1 year ago

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Until Death Do You Vow Ch1 Prologue

'Never make a promise you can't keep' and 'wake the dead' are two figures of speech that should never EVER go together. Nor should it be a good idea to do a paranormal investigation in a cemetery while still angry at your ex.

(The Groom of Gallagher Mansion Semi Corpse Bride Au.

DISCLAIMERS AND WARNINGS!! The game that these characters are from is for 18+ folks only. While this story will be absolutely sfw the game itself is not and contains things ONLY for an 18+ audience. I do NOT in anyway own the game or characters. They belong to their rightful owners. I do not own the movie Corpse Bride either. I also don't own the coverart which is a pic from their merch line. I only own this story here. In the beginning it will have a character briefly from the game Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack which is also a game for ONLY 18+ folks and that I ALSO do NOT own!! It's only referenced here and not part of the story.

There WILL be mentioning of death, murder, blood, etc. those parts will have warnings at the top of the chapters. If ANY chapters come with warnings PLEASE READ AND HEED THEM!!!

Just imagine your wedding dress similar to the one above/linked below only with a longer veil and train that trails behind you.

https://images.app.goo.gl/V4BZ1rEaXstvYx696

Warnings: Ian cheats on both reader and Mc from SWWSDJ.)

Church bells chimed in the morning.

Flowers. Soft petals. Meant for their beauty to symbolize the beauty of the bride.

Organ music. To match in chimes of the steps of the bride walking down the aisle.

An audience to shed tears of happiness for many happy moments to come from this union.

Smiles shown at one another in the joys of the moment.

A breath to fill your lungs trying not to cry as you smiled up at the man in front of you. The one you were going to marry and have a life with after you both finally graduated. But this moment couldn't wait. This magical moment after a year. Some say it was fast but you supposed it was called love at first sight for a reason.

Or at least it was supposed to be. A wedding was nothing if a groom never showed up for his bride leaving her humiliated by the alter and missing the wedding entirely. Only to show up after everyone decided to call it quits and leave for the night. Waiting for you with baited breath and a guilty look on his face. He wasn't even wearing a tuxedo. But better late than never.

"Ian! There you are! Where have you been? Y'know what? Nevermind! The priest is still here. We can go inside and still elope even if everyone left already!"

Smiles turned to him exceedingly and in joy-

"I-...I-I can't."

Reality shattered. Gasps wracked around. Silence fell.

Your eyes blinked at his guilty face. "I-...What?"

"I'm sorry, Y/n." His hands released yours as he looked down. "But I can't go through with this! I-... I've been having an affair with you behind someone else's back. Someone whom knows and left me a year ago."

More gasps were had. A bouquet of flowers dropped from your hands to your feet. Time seemed to slow before completely freezing.

"W-What?!"

"I really did try to make this work! I thought if I forced myself to invest time with you I'd forget all about them but I couldn't and I still don't. I still love them!"

Your world shattered as humiliation, guilt, regret, anger all swirled about behind shock which was the strongest emotion. Keeping you from saying anything as Ian without looking up at you took off his ring and without saying anything pushed it back into your palms.

"Here. Take this. You can sell it to get some money. I-It's the least you deserve after what I put you and them through. I'm-... I'm sorry, Y/n. I really am."

He then left the bride standing there. Nothing but white on her body. Tears on her cheeks. And crushed flowers at her feet. No one but her lonely self for comfort in the moonlight so late at night.

#the groom of gallagher mansion #elias gallagher x reader #elias gallagher #tgogm #Until death do you vow #thegroomofgallaghermansion #taylor potts x reader #taylor potts #something's wrong with sunny day jack #ian duff #Ian Duff x reader #swwsdj

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smilesession · 9 months ago

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extremely candid, tell-all thoughts about sacrifice and familial codependency, potentially emotional incest, mentions of abuse

I have watched sacrifice become the root of all suffering, but sacrifice has become cemented as a vicious cycle with no clear path of escape as its own result.

How can I dare to place judgment or blame on my mother? A woman who gave up so much of herself in service to her disabled husband and disabled child. I watched her, when I was growing up, working up to 80 hours a week, sometimes I would stay up all night with her at the office and feel bewildered and exhilarated from exhaustion. For me it was an adventure, for her it was obligation and I can hardly imagine how she felt. Its evidence of her incredible fortitude. While she worked this hard, she was also solely responsible for taking care of the home, taking care of a significantly autistic daughter, and taking care of a negligent, drug-addicted, manipulative husband. She also hit me almost every day.

When my parents met, my father was in his early 30s (to my mother's mid-20s) and he was dying of late-stage congestive heart failure. He had 6 months to live. He lived in absolute squalor, working part-time doing something or another to do with printing signs, in spite of having a business degree, while my mom was a homeowner and worked full time in a finance position despite not having a college education. On their first meeting, my mom gave him advice on how to better maintain his long hair that he grew out to his waist but didn't wash or take care of. She was not particularly interested in him until she found out he was dying. My mom attached herself to the idea of future-widow, secretly, finding a promise of eternal validation in martyrdom. They married after 6 months and she played the role of dutiful wife; she moved him into her home, she navigated the medical system for him, she and her own mother kept him fed and comfortable, she paid for his increasingly experimental and niche treatments, and she sat at his bedside in the Mayo Clinic, both loving him and privately waiting for his death.

He didn't die. I was conceived shortly after the heart transplant. She wanted to leave him when he went back to using drugs, feeling that it was an act of disrespect to her, to her family, and to the young man who was his organ donor. She decided that leaving wasn't an option, due to the extent he depended on her. He also refused, by threats and by stubbornness, to let her leave.

The next best thing to being a widow is to be a martyr. She conceded to letting him never go back to work, and she began working longer and longer hours and striving harder. His job was to take care of me and the home. For him, this was a free ticket to eternal adolescence; for my entire childhood if he wasn't verbally abusing me he was locked behind a door, in his private room, getting high and watching either the news or Adult Swim or old concert videos on TV. He resented my natural neediness as a young child, and said to me, quantifiably more than he said anything else, "the next time you need something, I won't be there for you", and he stuck to his word. In my memory, I can't remember a single time he reacted to my needing something with anything more than complete disdain, by waving me off with his hand. He would sleep for most of the day and sometimes forget to pick me up from school. He would not sacrifice one moment of comfort for anything in the world - he is pathologically incapable of it. My mom, on top of working as much as she did, solely took care of keeping the home clean, attending to my needs, and attending to him. Again, she also hit me almost every day and openly despised me until I was an adult.

They never divorced, even though I begged her to. She would always say to me, "he wouldn't be able to survive on his own". He doesn't require around-the-clock medical care; what she meant is that he doesn't possess basic life skills. He never learned how to use the internet, does not manage his doctor's appointments, has never cleaned anything, and has never submitted a job application for himself. My mom handles all of this. When he did finally get a job, part-time at a casino, my mom delivered him lunch every day.

Once when I was really little, maybe a 2nd grader, I wrote a set of comics while at school, "My Mom is Busy!" and "My Dad is Lazy!" where I drew her going to work and him laying in bed. I wasn't trying to be mean, I was trying to depict my life. When he saw them, he insisted that I'd done it to humiliate him by lying.

For my entire life, I've watched my mom run from herself by dissolving into service to others. She dissolved her own will in service of him, by overworking, and taking on charitable volunteering on top of it. The older I get I simultaneously gain more respect for this, and more grief. I think that amount of sacrifice is a type of escape, and a type of bargaining, and a type of groveling. I think its a cycle in which she wants to do anything possible to try to prove the slightest bit of worth in herself, because she doesn't feel she has it inherently.

My entire childhood she talked horribly about herself and called herself fat and ugly even though she's always been objectively beautiful. We often dieted together and I liked it because it seemed like it made her happy in some way. I think I carry every part of her pathology, replicated into me.

Self-martyrdom is trying to outrun yourself, to displace pieces of yourself into other people, trying to force others to being your mirror, all the while making it less and less likely. It's implicitly a humiliating insult. It's implicitly dehumanizing to everyone involved. I can never dislike my mother, because you can't help but love and admire someone who faces adversity by giving more and more. I have eternal, bottomless love for her that's only made stronger by the contrast with my father, who responded to adversity by making it everyone else's problem, by being entitled and ungrateful, for feeling like heaven and earth were owed to him for absolutely nothing.

As my mother's daughter I become a martyr inherently by loving her. I want to be that perfect mirror, I want her to see the good in herself in me, instead of seeing "proof" of her perceived insufficiency. Sacrifice inherently makes you look to others to know who you are. I know firsthand that when you sacrifice yourself for a weaponized-incompetent partner, you see yourself as a subhuman, you see that nothing you can do is good enough. And it goes on permanently and you become more twisted and monstrous in your own eyes the less and less you're "appreciated". It's about the self, but it feels like overly simplistic pop-psych to call it narcissism proper. Focus on Self is displaced entirely on caretaking the Other. In this kind of sacrifice, you erase yourself and become a sacrificial object. My mom isn't a narcissist, she's completely invisible to herself. My dad is blatantly a narcissist. On top of all of this, he degrades her for her tastes and preferences and requires everything be done in accordance to his own. She is not able to watch tv shows, listen to music, etc without his open judgment, mockery, and condemnation.

But is it not narcissistic to think you can save anyone from their own decisions? Making yourself a sacrificial (thereby holy, superior, not-human) object in service is still believing you're capable of the impossible. She would have been lucky if he died. I wish he could have died even though it means I wouldn't have been born. I would sacrifice myself for her.

I struggle to break the cycle because it would be betraying her.

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waternilly · 4 months ago

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No Tricks (George Weasley x OC) - Part 9

Fandom: Harry Potter Ship: George Weasley x OC Word count: 2k Warnings: None Ao3 link: here Summary: A tattoo shop opens across from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, immediately catching the eye of the youngest twin. The intriguing owner, though well-versed in the magical world, doesn’t quite belong to it herself. As they navigate their differences, their mutual curiosity blooms into something deeper. No Tricks Masterlist

As always, the end of the summer was a busy time in Diagon Alley. Witches and wizards of all ages packed the street, shuffling past one another to reach the various shops. Olive Tree Art & Tattoo welcomed a lot of curious families, resulting in hundreds of bookmarks sold, both to children and nostalgic parents alike. A handful of Muggle-style painting orders were also placed by the most enthusiastic patrons, while watercolour prints were bought by the dozen. When the cobblestones were emptied at last, Oli dropped into the couch with a loud huff, letting her head roll back.

She knew opening a tattoo parlor in Diagon Alley had been a curious endeavour to say the least. Many had tried to convince her not to, but she had persevered, only to wind up a painter much more than a tattoo artist.

Huffing, she remembered she should get the paperwork started on getting a new front door on the Muggle side of the building. It had cost her a pretty penny, but Oli was convinced a double-sided shop had potential. Right now though? It was barely even habitable.

A series of quick knocks hit the window, and Oli opened a tired eye. From outside, George was smiling at her. He held up a kraft paper bag and, pointing at it, shouted through the window: “Wanna eat something?”

Oli chuckled, rolling on the couch lightly. She raised a hand and motioned for him to enter. Dropping his hand to his side, he made quick work of the distance separating him from the door and entered.

“How did you enjoy your first day of ‘back to school’ season?” George wondered with a chuckle as he sat down on the couch next to Oli.

“I’m dead,” she groaned.

“Aw don’t worry, love, these will get you back on your feet,” he commented as he opened the bag.

Eyeing the contents as George laid them out over the coffee table, Oli’s stomach suddenly emitted a loud rumble. Small containers filled with various salads, a handful of fresh bread and a large bottle of her favourite juice.

“Did you eat anything today?” he wondered, eyebrows furrowed but smiling lightly.

Oli stopped to think for a moment, face scrunched up.

“Not since breakfast,” she confessed.

“Well,” George declared as he unwrapped the last package, “dive right in. I’ll go get us some glasses.”

Before she could protest, he was back on his feet and climbing the stairs two by two. Sighing, Oli smiled at the sight of George disappearing to the top floor. She could get used to this.

He was always so attentionate with her, she had almost run her mouth multiple times by now, forgetting that she had a secret to keep if she wanted to make it in this world. While she liked to imagine that George would not resent her for being a Squibb, she could not help the knot that formed in both her stomach and throat whenever she considered telling him fair and square.

“Do you have any plans for the third weekend of September?” George asked, rushing down the stairs and interrupting Oli’s train of thoughts.

He sat down by her side and filled the glasses with juice.

“None so far,” she explained. “Why?”

Handing her a glass, George angled himself to face her better on the cushions.

“My family organizes big reunions a few times a year, back in Devon,” he explained. “There’s a lot of us and you know how parents can be once the birds have left the nest.”

“Especially when the nest was very full to begin with, I imagine.”

“Indeed.”

Oli offered her glass to cheer and George gently clinked them against each other. They both took a sip before he continued.

“Would you like to join us?”

She coughed on the juice, loudly and unexpectedly. Sitting up, Oli held the shaking glass away from the leather all while attempting to breathe again.

Brows furrowed, George picked up the cup to lay it on the coffee table, then, gently, he rubbed her back.

“I promise I’m not trying to poison you, the juice is harmless.”

He recognized a chuckle between the fits of coughing and it lightened his spirits.

“Does the prospect of spending a weekend with my family terrify you so much?” he joked once Oli’s breathing was under control.

“You basically just said there’s a ton of you!”

“Not a ton,” his face scrunched up, “only like… twenty.”

—

Nothing George told Oli about the Burrow actually managed to prepare her for the stay. She had been informed that it was tall, somewhat mismatched, that additional parts had been built as was deemed necessary, but the micro-village that lay in the distance was beyond her wildest dreams.

She swallowed hard, still steadying from apparating. George’s arm was an anchor to hold onto as her spinning head came to a slow still. A grateful thought crossed her mind, thanking her mother and father for having prepared her for the effects of apparition and trained her to resist them.

“Wow,” Oli whispered under her breath.

George turned to her, corners of his lips rising.

“I know, right?”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, before a smile bloomed onto her features.

“You’re gonna think this is stupid,” Oli began. “But my first thought was that this would make for a great painting.”

She chuckled nervously.

Eyeing George from the corner of her line of sight, she noticed his gaze was steadily planted on her. Abruptly, Oli let go of his arm, only to wring her fingers instead.

“You can’t help yourself, huh?” George joked, crinkles speckling the corners of his eyes. “Always the artist.”

“I can’t just pretend I’m not!” she objected.

“I never said you should.”

A blanket of silence fell over them as their gazes finally locked properly. The sun was low in the late afternoon sky, clouds peppered the blue with white and grey. Grass fields all around were decorated with tall trees that bent gently under the breeze. George noticed for the first time how warm Oli’s brown irises were, reminding him of honey and whiskey.

A breathy laugh escaped him.

Shaking her head while smiling, Oli wondered: “What?”

“Nothing.”

She was looking at him so tenderly, so playfully, the same way she often did, like she fully trusted him. By Merlin, George hoped his mind was not playing tricks on him; he hoped she was reading him the same way too.

A shout in the distance distracted them, and nearby the Burrow, they spotted two children running after each other.

George licked his lips, while Oli cleared her throat.

“Shall we?” he suggested in a hurry, offering up his arm again.

Grinning, Oli returned her hand to the familiar position.

“Let’s go.”

The walk took roughly five minutes, spent in comfortable silence as the sounds of the Burrow became more clear with every step.

Molly and Arthur met them outside, the older woman wrapping her son then Oli, in tight embraces, while his father was more relaxed but just as welcoming.

“Did you have a safe trip, dears? No trouble on the way?” Molly wondered, still holding onto Oli’s shoulder.

“All good, George apparated us perfectly,” Oli complimented, squeezing his elbow.

“Oh, how wonderful,” Molly said. She stood next to the door and ushered them further: “Come in, you two, come in.”

Shoulders folded into themselves, Oli took tentative steps inside the Burrow, followed closely by George and his parents. Her gaze traveled from one enchanted object to another, the room being covered in knick knacks from floor to ceiling. Oli bit her lip, attempting to not look overly amazed.

“George, you still know where your room is, I believe,” Arthur joked, pointing to the stairs with an extended arm. “Will you show our guest to Ginny’s?”

“Everything is ready, you only have to drop your bag, dearie,” Molly added for good measure.

Oli thanked the Weasleys for the attention.

“It’s only natural, George has been nothing but positive about you.”

The younger woman’s eyebrows shot up while her smile froze in place. She shot a glance towards the stairs, where George was waiting. However, she could not pass up on an opportunity to hear more about this.

“Oh really?” she wondered, hoping her surprise was camouflaged sufficiently. “What has he sa-”

“I can tell you myself later if you’d like, love,” George interjected before she could finish.

Silence fell over the room, heavy and unexpected, as all heads turned to the redhead halfway up the stairs. He was grinning, eyes fixed on Oli, who met his gaze defiantly. She noted the use of the recently adopted nickname, the dropped jaws of his parents.

“Very well,” she concluded.

“Come,” George nodded, inviting her to follow behind him, “I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Molly blinked rapidly as her son and Oli disappeared upstairs.

“I know he said they were friends,” Arthur pointed out, “but I cannot help but wonder if we should have prepared a large bed instead.”

—

“You do realise your parents are gonna think we’re dating, right?” Oli pointed out, smirking as she dropped the bag by the door of her appointed bedroom before entering further in.

“They already did anyway.”

“Now is when you tell me that?” she asked, mouth agape.

“Would you have said ‘no’ if you’d known sooner?”

Oli paused to think, eyebrows furrowed.

“Maybe…” she teased.

The redhead scoffed, shaking his head, but a clear smile tugging at his lips. He leaned against the wall by the door, hands in his pockets, his own bag by his feet. Oli was reminded once more of how tall George was, and in that instant, she could not quieten the voice that noted how handsome he was – wearing a casual white blouse, brown trousers held up by matching suspenders and a dark green tailored jacket.

The floor creaked under every step that Oli took towards him to reduce the distance. The bed then squeaked as she sat down facing him, shoulder against the metal bed frame that had seen better days.

“You told your parents about me?” Oli asked seriously.

She hoped he had not noticed the way her voice had strained as she wondered aloud. Her heart tightened in her chest as she awaited his answer. She liked that he told his parents about her, it meant that she mattered to him, that they wanted to know more perhaps. But the prospect also terrified her. She still had not told him that she was a Squibb, and now his family was involved in this secret, in this lie. Oli hated to see it that way, but she could not deny it. A lie was a lie, even by omission.

“Of course,” George answered.

Oli swallowed.

“What did you say?”

“After they barged into your place, I asked them not to do it again.” His tone was unusually serious. “I said they’d get to meet you more in the future, but only once I’d had the chance to get to know you better first.”

George looked down to his feet, a bashful smile plastered on his face.

“They’ve been asking about you every chance they got since,” he admitted. “Though Fred has been entertaining their fantasies of us ending up together much more than I ever did.”

Oli chuckled but did not dare to meet his gaze.

“I ought to give him a good scolding,” she joked.

And just like that, they were back to their usual selves.

“Please, be my guest.”

“I’m sure Angelina has her hands full with him.”

“Trust me, she does.”

Their eyes met, circled by crinkles. A brief silence settled over them, comfortable.

“I’ll go put my bag away,” George said, pushing himself off the wall and picking his belongings off the floor. “My room is across the hall, I’ll be right back.” He turned to leave.

“Your dad said it was your old room?”

Stopping, he peaked over his shoulder.

Eyebrows raised, he answered: “Yes, it is. Well, mine and Fred’s.”

Oli remained silent, wringing her fingers in her lap.

“You wanna see?” he wondered.

Nodding quickly, Oli practically jumped off the bed. Smiling, George held out a hand, which she took gingerly, and he led her to his childhood bedroom. Another piece for her to add to the puzzle that was George Weasley.

#george weasley #nille writes #george weasley fluff #no tricks fanfic #george weasley imagines #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x oc #hp fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp x oc #original character #hp fluff

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