#it started with big things but sometimes happens in response to small

[popcorndispenser]

Hershel is actually the only character I've ever projected my dpdr onto. Idk, it fits him really well imo. Des' PTSD gives him uncontrollable fits of anger, Layton's makes him dissociate.

For those uninitiated:

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief). 

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.  

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud. 

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?” 

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan. 

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks. 

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.” 

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard. 

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!” 

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake. 

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.” 

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?” 

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on. 

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement. 

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”  

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding. 

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.” 

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot. 

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes. 

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?” 

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!” 

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page. 

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.” 

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you. 

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear. 

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him. 

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie. 

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–” 

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

[snoopyhq]

Jealous viktor + reader 🙏

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ so with my best, my very best, i set you free

(i love laufey 🗣️ her cover of "i wish you love" with the icelandic orchestra? 2:49 of heaven)

type: viktor x reader

summary: headcanons and a drabble of jealous viktor. headcanons are pre-relationship, the drabble is the established relationship ✪ ꨄ︎

word count: 2415

a/n: OMG FIRST ASK I'M SO HONORED I'M SO EXCITED YIPPEE !!! will be working on the others whenever i have the time, but TRUST i am plotting and scheming <3 any other askers, feel free to drop by! i hope i did your request justice, dear anon.

It was unfair to you, and to him, in his most miserable moments of pure self-pity

Viktor envied those who were healthy. He wished he wasn't born with the circumstances he was dealt. He would trade anything to spend one day with a respiratory system that didn't choke him from the inside out every time he took a breath

He was jealous of you, initially, when you first met

You seemed to have it so easy

Easy laughter, easy conversation, easy friends. You had an established life, you were loved, and you held yourself together with such ease that he sometimes wonders how much you're really holding back

He feels bad for assuming you were dealing with awful problems. But it was very likely. I mean, who was truly that... happy? Well off? At ease with themself and their role in the world? He was probably projecting

And then you somehow, by all the miracles a human could possibly be granted, managed to worm your way into his life and secure yourself there too

Viktor vehemently rejected you at first. He was much like a stray cat. You just gotta continuously give them love on their own terms, and often times, it was slow, and that concept applied to Viktor too

It started with small things. Brief greetings where you called him by name

"Good morning, Viktor."

"Nice to see you here today, Viktor."

"Viktor, you have a good night ok? Get home safe."

Including him in conversations. Commentary about how you two just happened to be in the same place at the same time. The library, a cafe, randomly in the middle of a bustling street

You always had that breezy way of acknowledging things. What a nice coincidence. It was all genuine

You were pleased to be surprised by his presence

Wordlessly holding the door for him, even if you really didn't have to wait. But it was never a big deal, so

He pushed it away. Brushed it off, and tried to forget about it, but those little moments kept circling through his mind like an irritating tape he couldn't dislodge from the disc player, and turning the TV off wasn't doing shit when those scenes were basically burned onto the screen

Like the natural progression of the lunar cycle, Viktor found himself unconsciously expecting you in his life

He can't remember a time when you weren't

Your greetings, your little gestures of kindness, that skill of small talk that meant so, so much to him were cherished like an altar of worship

While he was in no way, shape, or form completely opening himself up to befriending any more people, he began to feel much more natural with you and others you gave your time to

Which brought him to his current bit of emotional turbulence

That prickling in his chest whenever he saw you with other people, giving them your precious words and quality time? Yeah, he shouldn't be feeling this

You were allowed to have other friends! You had people in your life before him, and it doesn't mean you consider him any less just because you spent a moment or two with someone else!

He would tighten his grip on his cane, those mantras feverishly chanting in his mind as he walked in circles, attempting to reign his emotions into a more rational state

He had no right to feel jealous like this, but he couldn't help it

Jayce was his only real companion before, and now that he was a council member, he had less time for Viktor. He had the city to nurture and shape, a big responsibility. The loneliness of the lab was barely a noticeable shift from before

Now, you arrived as if by careless chance, giving him another glimpse, another hit of company, and it was maddeningly cruel to have those doses be in such short time frames

He was given what he needed and wanted, but never fully

Accepting that reality was going to be harder than accepting you truly wishing to be around him, in all his sardonic glory, his blunt nature that had most other people walking away. Just not you

To grapple with this selfish desire was humiliating

He was fully aware of how innately human it all was. If only it were easier. Someday.

For now, he would wait and bask in all the attention and friendship you offered him so willingly

You stood in front of your mirror, going over your carefully put together look one last time. You wanted to look good, and having the outfit fall into place like how you planned it in your head always gave you an extra boost of happiness before you left the house. Straightening the collar of your top one last time, you were finally satisfied.

Viktor was waiting for you in the living room. He stood up when you finally appeared, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek and a murmured "You look enchanting, as always."

You laughed and hugged him.

"And you're dashing, as per usual."

With your arm linked through his, the two of you went on your way. He had planned the date tonight. The winding route led to the sparkling, five-tiered fountain that marked the center of the shopping fair. The flowing water sparkled and danced beneath the fairy lights strung through the evergreens surrounding the space, and orchestral music floated up from where the quintet performed.

You two often went here after a long, stressful week, dining at one of the outdoor tables and idly chatting before hitting a couple stores. Most of the time, it would be the bookshop, the local woodcarver, and then the bakery. You had made it a tradition to buy one another a sweet treat, and it was always a delight to see if your guesses of enjoyment would be met or not.

There was certainly not a lack of other people around you, many of whom were also hand in hand. The center was a popular spot for local students and couples to unwind and spend time together.

When you both had your fill of sights and perusing your respective comforts, you made your way back to the fountain. The musicians had struck up a lively waltz, and many were dancing along now. Both of you shared a look, and moved to join in, albeit towards the edge of the crowds.

Dancing with Viktor was one of your favorite activities. He moved with such assuredness and care for your space, making him all the more captivating in his graces. The respectful placement of his hand on your waist, never going too far and risking your discomfort in public, and never straying away lest he appeared bored, Viktor made sure you were his priority.

After the song concluded, you spun Viktor around slowly to the rhythm of the music drawing to a close, dipping him into a kiss during the final note.

His cheeks were slightly flushed, both from the exertion and from your affection.

"I'm going to grab a drink. We can head home after, if you'd like," you told him, head leaning on his shoulder as he walked with you back up the steps.

"That's perfectly fine. I can hold your bag while you do that."

Oh, Viktor. Ever the gentleman.

You went inside the establishment, and ordered yourself a shirley temple with sweet cream, fully planning to share with him. You knew he had a penchant for the more saccharine in terms of taste. While you waited to order, another patron joined you after placing their order.

"Busy place tonight, isn't it?" they commented.

You turned your attention to them, surprised a stranger was making conversation with you, but you didn't mind. All harmless small talk, after all. You would be leaving soon anyways when your order was finished, so why not pass the time with pleasantries?

"It's one of the most popular cafes around here," you replied. "Friday nights always means live music, so people love to flock here. I should know. I frequent here often." you finished with a smile, and received one in return.

They continued engaging you in conversation, and you soon realized it was taking a bit for your drink. A shirley temple wasn't complicated, and you were worried something was wrong. Maybe they were short-staffed tonight? Did an accident occur in the back?

"Are you worried about your drink?"

"No, not really. More so the workers here," you were honest. Some of them were fellow students you see at the academy, and others knew you as a regular, and you had grown quite fond of the staff as they were of you.

"That's a surprise. You're very sweet."

Their order quickly arrived, and they bid you farewell before departing into the night. You walked up to the counter, asking if everyone was ok. The barista reassured you, saying it was only going to take a little while, and that everything is alright now. Relieved, you went back to your perch.

Outside, Viktor was waiting anxiously. This was taking a lot longer than he had anticipated.

When someone emerged from the cafe, he was tempted to get up and ask them if they'd seen you in there.

Yes, my partner. About this tall, very beautiful eyes, a smile you can't miss. Have you seen...?

God. He was contemplating approaching a stranger just to inquire about you. Luckily (or was it?) for him, they must've sensed him sneaking glances at the cafe and at them, because they approached him cheerily.

"You look a little lost. Need some help?" they asked.

"Oh, it's alright. I'm just waiting for someone."

At that, they perked up.

"It wouldn't happen to be someone wearing the same colored blouse as your vest would it?"

Yes. It was. He confirmed it.

"That's perfect actually! I was just talking to them, and since you know them, do you think they would be interested in exchanging contact information with me? They were quite lovely company, and I wouldn't mind getting to know them better."

Viktor could feel his heart drop and the temperature in his soul rise several degrees. What was going on? Where were you? What had happened in those minutes that you were gone?

"I will... ask them," he attempted to keep his tone even. "Mind giving me your contact information to pass along?"

The stranger happily handed Viktor a piece of paper, their messy scrawl sending a sting of irritation through him. That penmanship was not worthy of you, and would certainly not compare to the intricate scripting of his own handwritten notes and letters to you.

When you finally rejoined him, you could tell immediately something was off. You questioned him about it, and he huffed, telling you not to worry about it as you walked home. He didn't even pay any mind to the bag that hung on your arm, too caught up in his insecurities and worries.

That stranger was so much like you. So approachable. Good conversationalist. He couldn't help but imagine a scenario of you two getting along a little too well, and that made something deep inside him hurt. Clearly, he wasn't as good as keeping his thoughts off his face as he believed, or you had simply gotten better at understanding him, because you promptly asked him again.

"Come on, Viktor. Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

"If you knew the full extent of what I'm thinking of, you wouldn't be so quick to call my mind beautiful," he grumbled tersely.

"You can't judge my reaction for me. Spill."

He bit the inside of his cheek. Finally, he confessed. It felt like ripping out stitches from his tongue.

"... someone at the coffee shop. They asked me if I knew you, and then asked if you would be interested in their contact information."

At that, you raised an incredulous eyebrow. Ah. You were blissfully oblivious of the jarring events.

"Viktor, I promise nothing is wrong. We were both waiting for our drinks, and they happened to be making small talk with me. That's all. I love you with my whole heart, and no one else can ever--will not ever--compare."

His heart fluttered. He knew that was the realistic truth, but it was nice to hear reassurance from you anyways.

"You mean it?" he asked.

"I mean it," you said sincerely.

Setting your bags and drink on the nearby bench, you swept him into your arms and twirled him around beneath the streetlight's warm glow.

"I love you," you declared, hands holding his face tightly. Your thumb brushed against the beauty mark above his lip. "And if you ever need reminders of that, you tell me immediately. I will literally drop everything and make sure your doubt disappears completely for as long as I can hold it back."

He gazed into your eyes, his own now slightly misted. Their glossiness reflected warmth and adoration as he took in your face. Seeing the conviction there did something to him. He didn't know what, but he found himself giving in to the urge to just close the distance and kiss you right then and there, open street be damned.

It began to snow. He only realized when he parted from you, the taste of your chapstick still lingering. He looked up, watching the delicate flakes be illuminated by the warm, golden glow. If there was a visualization for the love he felt, it would be that he decided. It all just built and built from all the little things, and filled him with such life it almost hurt.

"We should go home," he whispered, looking back at you.

"Oh yeah, we should. I was going to tell you!" you gasped, running back for your drink and the bag. "They gave me extra cakes and rolls. The last ones of the specialty desserts before their next seasonal delights, so we can share them." you beamed.

"Really? That's quite generous of them."

He wasn't surprised. You were just so damn lovable. He would give you all the baked goods you desired and more, if only for another smile from you directed at him. His fingers intertwined with yours, fondness consuming him as you chatted about the different flavors of the desserts, which ones you were most excited about, and which ones you think he'd like.

He had to agree with your assessments. A dark chocolate and orange mousse did sound quite appealing for him. He already knew he'd let you have the last bite, regardless.

"Oh, and Viktor?"

"Hmm?"

"You can throw away the contact. I don't need it."

I already have you.

[feinzleclerc]

𝐅inally a yes | Charles Leclerc

summary :: Where you finally accept Charles' proposal.

word count :: 1.090 words.

It was hard to believe that Formula 1 had become your life. Since you were little, fast cars and the stories behind the drivers had always fascinated you. Growing up in a family where Sunday mornings meant mandatory race-watching certainly helped. But simply watching wasn’t enough—you wanted to be there, part of that world. That desire drove you to study sports journalism, always with the goal of one day covering the pinnacle of motorsport.

Your first big break came when a small European motorsports website hired you to cover the junior categories. During that time, you met Charles Leclerc. He was on the rise, racing in Formula 2 and impressing everyone with his talent. Although you didn’t spend much time together back then, Charles had a charisma that was hard to ignore. He was kind, polite, but with a hint of sarcastic humor that made every conversation unforgettable.

You were always in front of him, the interviewer. It wasn’t intentional; you were simply following orders. But soon, you became a familiar face to Leclerc—not just your face, but your name as well.

Years later, your dedication finally led you to what once seemed like an unattainable dream: working directly with Formula 1. Now, as a reporter for a global network, you traveled the world covering races. Life was hectic and full of challenges, but one thing—or rather, one person—made everything even more complicated: Charles Leclerc.

From the day you crossed paths with Charles again in the paddock, he never missed a chance to start a conversation. At first, it was just quick remarks between interviews, casual exchanges. But over time, Charles became more direct, throwing in flirtatious comments disguised as jokes.

— You know you can interview any driver, yet you keep coming back to me. It’s fate, ma chérie — he’d say with that confident smile that made you laugh despite yourself, even as you rolled your eyes in response.

Your friends in the paddock quickly picked up on the dynamic between the two of you, especially Gasly and Norris, who never missed an opportunity to tease.

— Charles, how many times are you going to get turned down before you give up? — Pierre would mock, while Lando chimed in: — I think he likes the challenge. More exciting than overtaking Max on track.

You’d just shake your head, trying to ignore their comments, but sometimes you couldn’t help but laugh, which only encouraged Gasly and Norris further. To them, your laughter was like a sign—one that you weren’t entirely shutting Charles out.

This wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Despite Charles’ countless attempts, you always had a ready excuse for not accepting his invitations: work, commitments, exhaustion... But deep down, the real reason was fear—fear of complicating your already chaotic life. Mixing work and romance wasn’t a path you wanted to tread lightly.

Everything changed during the Monaco GP. It was the most glamorous race on the calendar, and the city’s atmosphere seemed to conspire for something different. Charles, of course, seized the moment.

— You’re in Monaco, my city, and you still haven’t seen the best spots. I think it’s the perfect time to finally say yes — he said, wearing that confident look that always threw you off balance.

For some reason, your mind worked differently that day. Lately, you’d been wondering what might happen if you did accept one of Charles’ invitations. A thought struck you like a pang in your heart: you’d never know what could truly happen unless you gave it a chance.

— Alright, Charles. I’ll go. But only because you won’t stop insisting. — Liar.

His grin was so wide it was like he’d just won a race. — You won’t regret it, I promise.

When you finally saw yourself in the mirror wearing that dress, it hit you—you had agreed to a date with none other than Charles Leclerc. If someone had told you this back in the Formula 2 days, you’d never have believed them.

Charles made sure to plan everything. He picked you up at the hotel, dressed in a crisp white shirt that was both stylish and casual, contrasting with the excitement in his expression. The destination? A small seaside restaurant, far from Monaco’s bustling crowds.

— I wanted a place where we could really talk, without distractions — he explained as you walked to a table overlooking the water.

— That’s exactly what I had in mind for this... outing — you smiled.

— Away from the media?

— Definitely.

The conversation flowed naturally. Charles shared stories about his childhood in Monaco, how he started racing, and the challenges he’d faced along the way. You, in turn, talked about how your passion for Formula 1 began and the behind-the-scenes aspects of your job.

— I’ve always admired your determination — he said, his tone suddenly serious. — Not only did you make it into this world, but you’ve stood out. That’s not easy, especially for someone so... captivating.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment, but before you could respond, Charles shifted the mood with a playful comment about how he deserved credit for being so persistent in getting you to that dinner.

After the meal, Charles suggested a walk along the harbor. The night was clear, and the city seemed to glow even brighter under the moonlight. He led you to a quieter spot where yachts were anchored, away from the main activity.

— Did you know my first karting win happened right here? — he said, pointing to a spot near the harbor. — I was just a kid, but that day changed everything for me.

— Maybe tonight will change everything too — you replied without thinking, immediately regretting it when you saw the smile spreading across Charles’ face.

Charles stepped closer, shaking his head. — Maybe it will.

The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of waves lapping against the boats. Before you could say anything, Charles leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours.

— May I? — he asked, his voice low, filled with anticipation.

You nodded, and the kiss that followed was soft yet meaningful, as if all the tension between you had finally found its resolution.

That night, something truly changed. For the first time, you stopped resisting how you felt about him.

[regal-rosebuds]

ꔫHow to Voluntarily Age Regress

ꔫHi all! I wanted to post this, but I can't call it as much a "guide" as I usually would, since it is purely my anecdotal experience!

ꔫNonetheless, I hope this is helpful to you in your endeavors!

ꔫTypically, when I am trying to regress, I start with age dreaming! This comes with a number of things, maybe it's:

Watching cartoons or another piece of media that I find comforting or that I've found puts me in the space

Coloring a picture or doing worksheets

Babytalking with my cgs, babysitters or other in-community friends

^Asking my cgs/babysitters to care for me as if I am already regressed

^^Generally interacting with other littles or friends I find comforting

Scrolling agere tags on here or ingesting other agere content

Using little gear like pacis, bottles, etc.

Playing with toys or playing video games that I've found put me in the space

Listening to a playlist that one of my cgs made me

Writing agere headcanons or making content of my ocs who regress

Daydreaming about agere outings, playdates, etc.

Going shopping and looking at toys

Cuddling, holding hands, getting my hair pet, etc.

ꔫThis is just a short list of things I've put together, there's a lot more that could be done, especially since it's extremely individual! This is just what works for me!

ꔫFrom there, I try to maintain this comforting and safe space by not taking on any work/responsibilities or really anything else not suitable for my small age.

ꔫAnd, it’s not like it’s a 100% success rate either! Sometimes, I’m just not feeling it; sometimes, I just continue age dreaming for the rest of the night! For me, you can’t really force it — it’s okay if it does happen, it’s okay if it doesn’t!

ꔫSome other helpful things:

I find it much easier to slip when I’m tired.

You might feel kinda silly being big and trying to do your small things, but that’s okay!

It’s not just a switch one can flip, so don’t be frustrated if it doesn’t come easily!

It’s different for everyone — for some people it comes really easily, for some people not so easily. Some people need to do a specific set of things and have a specific set of conditions to regress. Going further:

Not everyone can voluntarily regress, and that’s okay, but there’s no harm in trying it out!

ꔫWhile this isn’t as educational as my other posts, I still hope that you are able to find it helpful!

[hancorys]

k.wh — small girl fantasy

genre: fluff, co-worker to lovers hehe, reader have a BIG FAT crush on unagi (who doesn’t) mutual pining, self-indulged pairing: crush!woonhak x afab!reader wc: 3176 warning: they both have responsibility crisis, both NUMBBB, lmk if i forgot any !! listen: small girl — lee youngji ft. do, binibini — zack tabudlo, take a chance with me — niki, aya — earl agustin

the soft hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet store, the flickering fluorescent lights above casting a dull glow over the aisles. your shift was dragging, and with barely any customers coming in, you found yourself wiping the already spotless counter just to keep your hands busy.

the air smelled faintly of instant ramen and cheap coffee, the scent clinging to your uniform as you absentmindedly ran the rag over the counter for the third time. your thoughts drifted—mostly to woonhak, as they often did during these long, uneventful shifts.

woonhak was at the back of the store, stacking boxes near the stockroom. from where you stood, you could see the way his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms as he effortlessly lifted each box like it weighed nothing. he made it look easy, just like he made everything look easy.

you bit the inside of your cheek, annoyed at yourself for staring. it wasn’t like he was going to notice anyway. he never did.

at first, you tried convincing yourself that he was just quiet, that maybe he was the type of person who kept his distance from coworkers. but that theory crumbled quickly when you watched him chat effortlessly with customers, throwing in the occasional charming smile or polite nod. even when his friends dropped by, he greeted them with a grin, his usual composed expression softening into something warmer.

but with you? nothing.

sure, he said hi when your shifts overlapped. he’d ask you to stock shelves if he was busy handling the register. but that was the extent of it. no small talk. no casual conversations about school or life outside the store. just simple, impersonal exchanges that made you feel more like background noise than an actual person.

it was frustrating, really. and the worst part? you still couldn’t stop thinking about him.

you sighed, leaning against the counter, when a voice suddenly cut through the silence.

“you missed a spot.”

you jolted, your grip on the rag tightening as you turned to see woonhak standing beside you, peering down at the counter with his usual unreadable expression.

you blinked, your brain short-circuiting for a second. “what?”

woonhak pointed to a barely visible smudge near the register, his tone as casual as ever. “right there.”

you quickly wiped over it, heat creeping up your neck. of course, the first real thing he says to you all shift has to be about cleaning. not school, not work, not even some throwaway comment about the weather—just that.

when you looked up again, he was already walking away, disappearing into the stockroom like the moment hadn’t even happened.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, staring after him in disbelief.

was he really that oblivious? or was he doing this on purpose?

either way, it was driving you insane.

the more time you spent working at the store, the more you started noticing the little things about woonhak. not the obvious things—like the way customers always gravitated toward him or how effortlessly he balanced school and work—but the smaller details, the ones you weren’t sure anyone else even paid attention to.

for instance, the way he hummed under his breath when he thought no one was listening. it was always something soft, barely audible over the hum of the refrigerators. sometimes, it was an old song playing faintly through the store’s speakers; other times, it was just a melody with no real pattern. you caught yourself lingering near the aisles whenever it happened, pretending to fix the same row of snacks just to hear it a little longer.

he also had this habit of organizing snacks by color. at first, you thought it was just him being efficient, but then you realized he did it even when it wasn’t necessary. the chips, the candies, even the energy drinks—if he was stocking the shelves, they always ended up arranged in a neat, color-coordinated gradient.

“you know, no one really cares if the ramen cups go from red to yellow,” you teased one evening, watching as he rearranged a row of instant noodles.

woonhak didn’t even look up. “yeah, but it looks better like this.”

you tilted your head, studying his expression. he wasn’t doing it for the customers. he wasn’t even doing it because his dad expected the shelves to look nice. he just liked things a certain way. it was oddly endearing.

but the thing that really got to you? the way he sometimes looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

it started small. you’d glance up from the register and catch his eyes flickering away too quickly. or you’d be restocking the shelves and feel the weight of his gaze just before he turned back to whatever he was doing. at first, you thought you were imagining it, that maybe you just wanted him to look at you so badly that your mind was playing tricks on you.

but then it kept happening.

like that time you were leaning against the counter during a slow shift, absentmindedly fiddling with a snack wrapper, when you felt it—that unmistakable pull of someone’s stare. you turned your head just in time to see woonhak, standing by the fridge section, looking right at you.

his expression was unreadable, but his eyes held something unfamiliar, something you couldn’t quite name.

the second your eyes met, he looked away, pretending to check the labels on the bottled drinks.

your heartbeat stuttered.

maybe he wasn’t as oblivious as you thought.

—

the storm rolled in without warning. one moment, the sky outside the store was a deep navy, the streetlights flickering lazily against the pavement. the next, rain was hammering against the windows, wind howling through the cracks in the doors. then—darkness.

the hum of the refrigerators cut out, the overhead lights flickered once, then died. the only thing left was the soft, eerie glow of the emergency lights lining the walls.

“great,” you muttered, setting down the inventory clipboard you’d been pretending to work on.

behind the counter, woonhak sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. he tapped the screen. “no signal.”

of course. just your luck to be stuck in a blackout, in a convenience store, alone with woonhak.

you shifted awkwardly, glancing at him. “should we, uh… do something? or just wait it out?”

he looked around, eyes scanning the dimly lit store. “well, we can’t close up, and we can’t leave.” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “guess we’re stuck here for a while.”

with nothing else to do, the two of you sat down on the floor near the counter, backs against the shelves stocked with instant noodles. the emergency lights cast a faint, bluish glow over his face, making his features look softer, almost unreal.

for a while, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was heavy, like something unspoken was lingering between you. then, out of nowhere, woonhak let out a small, breathy chuckle.

“this is kinda weird, huh?” he mused.

you turned to him. “what is?”

“being here like this. we’ve worked together for months, but this is probably the longest we’ve ever talked.”

you blinked, taken aback by his sudden honesty. “yeah. you’ve always been... kind of hard to talk to.”

he raised an eyebrow. “hard to talk to?”

“i mean, you’re quiet. you don’t really say much unless it’s about work,” you admitted, hugging your knees. “honestly, i wasn’t sure if you even liked me.”

woonhak tilted his head slightly, studying you. “i never disliked you,” he said after a pause. “i just… don’t always know what to say.”

you looked at him, waiting, sensing there was more.

he exhaled, leaning his head back against the shelves. “it’s kinda dumb, but… i feel like i don’t have time to just—talk. i’m always thinking about what i should be doing next. school, work, helping my dad. it’s a lot, you know?”

his voice was quieter now, the usual steadiness replaced with something more fragile.

“because you’re the eldest?” you asked softly.

he nodded, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “yeah. i don’t really have a choice. my dad relies on me, and i don’t want to let him down. sometimes, i think about what i actually want to do, but then i feel guilty, like i’m being selfish.”

for the first time, you saw him not as the woonhak that everyone admired—the perfect son, the dependable coworker—but as a boy who was just… tired.

hesitantly, you said, “i get it. maybe not in the exact same way, but… i understand what it’s like to feel like you have to be something for everyone else.”

he turned to you, intrigued. “yeah?”

you nodded, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “i’ve always felt like i had to prove something. like if i don’t push myself hard enough, i’ll just… fade into the background. i guess that’s why i’ve always been so frustrated with you.”

he blinked. “with me?”

you let out a small laugh. “yeah. you make everything look so easy. it’s like you don’t even have to try, and meanwhile, i’m over here struggling to keep up.”

woonhak was quiet for a moment, then—to your surprise—he smiled. not his usual polite smile, but something softer, more real.

“i didn’t know you thought that,” he murmured. “if it makes you feel any better, i think you work harder than anyone else here.”

you felt your face warm, looking away. “you’re just saying that.”

“no,” he said simply. “i’m not.”

the air between you shifted, something settling into place. and for the first time since meeting him, you didn’t feel invisible.

—

the change was subtle at first, but once you noticed it, you couldn’t unsee it.

woonhak was everywhere.

he was always near, always teasing, always finding little excuses to talk to you. he stopped treating you like just another co-worker and started acting like… well, like someone who actually wanted to be around you.

one evening, after an unusually slow shift, you were restocking shelves when you accidentally knocked over a row of neatly stacked chip bags.

“careful,” woonhak drawled from behind you, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “you break it, you buy it.”

you huffed, bending down to pick up the fallen bags. “do you ever actually help, or do you just stand there and make fun of me?”

“oh, i definitely just stand here and make fun of you,” he said, grinning.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

and then there was the way he waited for you after shifts. at first, you thought it was a coincidence—maybe he just happened to finish work at the same time as you. but then it happened again. and again.

“why are you still here?” you asked one night, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets as you locked up the store.

woonhak stretched lazily, as if he hadn’t been waiting outside for you. “it’s dark out.”

“so?”

he gave you a pointed look. “might as well walk together.”

you narrowed your eyes. “but your house is—”

“doesn’t matter.” he started walking ahead, then glanced back at you, raising an eyebrow. “you coming, or what?”

you hated how easily he did this—how effortlessly he inserted himself into your routine, into your life, like he had always been there.

you groaned, but the truth was, you liked it. you liked how he matched his pace with yours, how he walked on the side closest to the street, how he never let the conversation die out even when you weren’t sure what to say.

and then there were the snacks.

at first, it was small. a bag of your favorite chips left near the register, a cold drink placed beside your bag without a word. when you asked about it, he’d just shrug.

“it’s nothing.”

but it wasn’t nothing.

one afternoon, after a particularly long shift, you found a neatly wrapped rice ball waiting for you in the breakroom.

you picked it up, turning it over in your hands. “did you—”

“you haven’t eaten, right?” woonhak interrupted, not looking at you as he busied himself with the stock list.

you blinked. “how did you know?”

“you always forget when you’re working.”

your heart stuttered at his words.

he noticed.

he was noticing you now. really noticing you.

you unwrapped the rice ball slowly, trying to ignore the way your hands felt unsteady. “thanks,” you muttered.

woonhak finally looked at you then, and for once, his usual teasing expression softened into something quieter. “don’t mention it.”

and that was how it was. little moments, little gestures, little things that all added up to something bigger.

you weren’t sure what it was, not yet. but you liked it.

and just as you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, this was turning into something more—

you overheard the conversation.

—

it was late, your shift nearly over, when you heard woonhak’s father speaking in hushed tones near the back of the store.

“it’s a big opportunity, woonhak. you’d be crazy to pass this up.”

you froze, your hand tightening around the stack of receipts you’d been organizing.

“i know,” woonhak replied, his voice lower than usual. hesitant.

you inched closer to the back of the store, staying just out of sight behind one of the shelves.

“then what’s the problem?” his father pressed. “you’ve worked hard for this. this isn’t just about the store—this is about your future.”

there was a pause. a long, heavy silence.

then, woonhak exhaled. “it’s just... sudden.”

“that’s how these things work. you don’t always get time to think. you have to act.” his father’s voice softened slightly. “listen, i know you worry about me, about the store, but i’ll be fine. this is your chance to do something more, something bigger than this place.”

your stomach twisted.

what was he talking about? what opportunity? where would it take him?

and why—why did it feel like something was slipping through your fingers before you even had the chance to hold it?

you heard woonhak sigh, the kind he let out when he was deep in thought, troubled.

“i just need time,” he murmured.

his father didn’t push him further, only replying, “just don’t take too long, son.”

you stood frozen behind the shelves long after the conversation ended, your heart pounding in your ears.

because you already knew.

whatever this was—whatever had been growing between you and woonhak, however slowly, however subtly—it wasn’t going to last.

the next few days felt different. not because anything had changed—woonhak still teased you, still left snacks by the register, still waited for you after your shifts like it was the most natural thing in the world. but now, there was something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

you weren’t sure if he knew you had overheard. part of you wanted to pretend you didn’t, to pretend things were the same. but you weren’t sure how long you could keep up the act when every moment with him suddenly felt like it had an expiration date.

then one night, as the store’s closing time approached, woonhak finally said it.

“can we talk?”

you turned to him, heart pounding. “yeah.”

he hesitated before pulling you outside, the cool night air wrapping around you both. the neon lights from the store’s sign buzzed softly above you, casting a faint glow over his face.

for a moment, he just looked at you, like he was trying to memorize something. then, he sighed.

“you heard, didn’t you?”

you swallowed. “yeah.”

woonhak let out a dry chuckle, looking down at his shoes. “figured. you’re not exactly subtle when you eavesdrop.”

“shut up,” you muttered, but there was no real bite to it.

he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “it’s a scholarship. a really good one. i’d be studying abroad for a year—maybe longer, if things go well.”

your chest tightened. “that’s… amazing.”

he scoffed. “you don’t sound like you mean that.”

“no, i do.” you forced a smile. “this is everything you’ve worked for, right?”

“yeah,” he said, but his voice was uncertain. he wasn’t looking at you anymore, staring out at the empty street instead. “but… i don’t want to leave you alone.”

you blinked, caught off guard by his honesty.

he turned back to you, his usual teasing expression replaced with something raw, something real. “i mean it. the thought of being somewhere new, somewhere exciting—it should make me happy, right? but all i can think about is how i won’t be here. with you.”

your throat felt tight. because a few months ago, you never would have imagined hearing those words from woonhak. back then, you weren’t even sure he noticed you. and now here he was, standing in front of you, telling you he didn’t want to leave you behind.

but you couldn’t let him stay just for you.

you reached out, poking his forehead lightly. “you’re an idiot.”

he blinked. “what—”

“you have to go, woonhak,” you said softly. “you’d regret it if you didn’t.”

he frowned. “but—”

“but nothing,” you cut him off, smiling a little. “you won’t lose me.”

he stared at you, and for once, he didn’t have a witty comeback.

you took a deep breath. “i’ll wait for you. no matter how long it takes.”

woonhak exhaled, shaking his head with a small, incredulous laugh. “you’re serious?”

“dead serious.” you tilted your head at him. “what, do you not trust me?”

“no, it’s not that,” he muttered. “it’s just… funny. the you from a few months ago didn’t even think i knew you existed, and now you’re out here promising to wait for me.”

you felt your face heat up. “shut up.”

but woonhak was grinning now, his usual self creeping back in. “you’re kind of romantic, you know that?”

“don’t push it.”

he laughed, then—to your surprise—reached out and ruffled your hair. “alright, fine. i’ll go. but only because you said you’d wait for me.”

you swatted his hand away, scowling. “like you weren’t gonna go anyway.”

“nope. i was seriously considering staying.” he gave you a lopsided smile, and something about it made your heart ache. “but i guess i have to make this count now. wouldn’t want to keep you waiting too long.”

you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.

and when he walked you home that night, he stayed a little longer by your door, hesitating like he had something more to say.

but instead of words, he reached out, carefully intertwining his pinky with yours.

a silent promise.

“wait for me,” he murmured.

you squeezed his hand, grinning. “i already said i would, didn’t i?”

and as woonhak laughed, shaking his head like you were the most ridiculous person in the world, you realized something.

for the first time, you weren’t afraid of losing him. because somehow, in his own way, woonhak was waiting for you too.

© hancorys, 2025.

[nezuswritingdesk]

sylus parenting au

A/N: sigh, here we go! Girl dad sylus!!! Will try to put the headcanons in chronological order. ALSO WTF DO YOU MEAN TUMBLR POSTED MY DRAFT?!

content warning: pregnancy? family stuff? babies? might cause possible baby fever (KIDS ARE EXPENSIVE. BE RESPONSIBLE.)

Inspired by : @tbaluver @starmocha and every sylus girl dad thing I've seen since (will update here still)

wc: 1.0k

I believe that we all agreed as a fandom that Sylus is a girl dad, I firmly believe that it is in his DNA to be a girl dad to the two most well-loved, spoiled, and protected girls of the N109. He is a happy father of two identical twin girls 🥰🥰 ( their temporary names are Nyx and Asteria)

Sylus had loved these girls since the start of their little lives. He was there for every appointment, every shopping trip when you wanted to buy things for the babies, he helped assemble their cribs, prepared the nursery, etc

The twin girls were born before dawn (aka the usual sleeping time of sylus. He didn't sleep because he stayed up all night to keep you company as the twins arrived). Nyx was born first, and minutes later, Asteria came along.

Absolute sylus clones. Tiny little ladies that look exactly like Sylus.

He cried when he held his daughters for the first time— how can a man like him , a man known for his strength and cruelty, the damn leader of Onychinus, with so much blood in his hands, hold such innocent little lives?

You assured him that the girls don't see him like that. He was their father and he means the world to their small little minds.

Once everything has calmed down, the first thing all four of you did was sleep until noon or the early afternoon. The twin girls called you and their father's chests home.

The twins sleep like otters, always holding hands to never separate.

They are nocturnal creatures like their father dear! When you were recovering and the twins were being fussy at ungodly hours, Sylus would take care of the girls (plus you, ofc you're just as important).

Sylus likes to have skin-to-skin contact with the babies and in turn, the babies like sleeping on his chest throughout

Most days were really spent sleeping. They're sweet little competitive babies, they like their playtime and would do things together. Nyx waits for Asteria and Asteria waits for Nyx.

Please don't separate the twins ever, they will cry. Nyx will fuss if her baby sister isn't in her line of bad baby vision and Asteria will scream if she can't see Nyx.

He can distinguish which twin is which. Nyx has his prominent nose while Asteria has bigger cheeks but to mess around with you , he likes to swap the babies.

Nyx acts like Sylus. Asteria acts like you.

The twins have a favorite uncle individually. They will fight or pout at the other twin when they're spending too much time with their favorite uncle. Asteria likes uncle Keiran and Nyx likes uncle Luke. The uncles enables the girls to let chaos reign.

Mephisto is the baby monitor. No need to expand on this.

Sylus has been making them their own little mephisto's since you both found about that you were pregnant. The birds are based on orioles and we're gifts to the twins on their first birthday. They loved the birds since.

Sylus knows how to dress his daughters! And he dresses them good! He likes giving Nyx the crow onesie (because it matched her grumpy little pouty face) and Asteria gets the smiley dino onesie (because it matches her big baby cheeks and her smile) and sometimes he'd match their clothes or complement theirs

Sylus has nibbled their cheeks multiple times , they girls would giggle and cup his face in their tiny hands

Sylus sings and reads poetry to them to help them sleep or calm down. (He has been doing this since you got pregnant)

Their first word is papa! (It happened when Sylus got home from another business trip and the twins were eager to reunite with him so they immediately walked up to him and began to call him papa.) Sylus broke down crying even more.

Nyx calls Asteria "Ria" and Asteria calls Nyx "Nixie"

They'd always drag someone in the base to play with and have tea time where they act like sylus during his business deals. (the unwilling willing participants: sylus, the twins, mephisto, their orioles, mama reader (but mama reader is willing)

There was one time that tea time was just them two, their orioles, and Mephisto , they even dressed them up.

Very much spoiled girls by you both. They can be picking out dresses or things they like and sylus will be like, "Just one, sweetheart? You can get a second or a third, it'll be fine baby." They definitely swapped and stole each other's clothes

I firmly believe that Sylus is the one that really indulges their requests. He's financially stable, has a good job, and finally has people who'd love and appreciate him. While you're the one trying to remind him not to spoil them too much or they'll end up as brats

Nyx and Asteria are little songbirds — they sing very nicely and like to duet together but they don't have the heart to tell their beloved daddy that he cant sing (lol jk asteria is like daddy you can't sing don't do it and nyx is like daddy my ears hurt from your singing 🥺)

Sylus? do you mean their jungle gym?

as the girls got older, they become more independent and sylus and you teach them necessary life skills

their evols (if they have one) complement each other and was made to protect the other

sylus taught them martial art skills and boxing when the girls were much older to protect themselves besides the use of evols and weapons

their baby brother was born when the twins were around 7 or 8. this little boy is very well loved and protected by his sisters like their lives dependent on it. he looks like you with a small sprinkle of sylus here and there

they have family pictures every year since you and sylus got married — first it was just you two, then a bump carrying the twins, then the twin girls as babies, as toddlers and little kids, you carrying your third child, and now, the three lovely children

at the end of the day, all of the children are well-loved and adored by sylus and you. they are the reason why you two kept going in life, why it was kinder and much softer and thought it wasn't perfect, everything is enough.

a/n : wtf tumblr posted this without me knowing :( I didn't even know it was posted 😭😭 anyways I hope you enjoy this! hope to get the Caleb and zayne papa aus soon! reblogs and everything is appreciated by me thank you 💖💖

[the-froschamethyst4]

How To Stop an Argument 101

————

Husband! Barrage Headcannon

SFW & NSFW

Quick AN: I would like to say in my first Barrage fic I placed the name Cal/Calvin in it because that is what I’ll be calling Barrage as his first name, there isn’t much info on him so I decided that his name will be Calvin or Cal for short

————

————

SFW

He knows exactly what he is doing when it comes to “distracting” from the issue at hand

Recently you were under a lot of stress with work and the holidays coming up so quickly that you just needed some help from Barrage but he wasn’t pulling his end of the deal and making some things worse

You were in front of the tree trying to wrap presents for him and some family members that were coming over for the holidays but he was being no help

Watching the game on TV, being loud, and drinking beer while you wanted to watch a Christmas movie to be in the mood

“Cal, please turn it down.”

“Hon, I can’t hear what they are saying though.”

“We have a basement you can turn the TV up as loud as you want down there, I’m too overstimulated.” You say while trying to not pull your hair out.

“There’s only a few minutes of the game then I’ll go downstairs.”

“No, Cal…please do it now, I can’t think.” You say putting your hands on the side of your head.

Barrage sees that and turns the TV off and with no other word goes downstairs. He doesn’t want you to burst and there because more then just a simple discussion

You thank him but he just hums a response back to you.

That was just one out of many possible arguments that could have happen.

There’s been many days where Barrage just doesn’t take it seriously and starts pushing buttons

“Cal! Have you seen my necklace? I’ve been looking for hours now!” You call from upstairs.

The necklace was special, it was real pearls and real gold, your grandmother gave to you before she passed and you loved that necklace wore it any chance you got and tonight was a holiday party at your work but you couldn’t find the damn thing anywhere

“No!” He calls from downstairs. The overwhelming sensation of you possibly have finally lost it hit you and now you’re starting to get a little pissed off now, because you always say it in the same spot.

In your jewelry box on a small hook that only it sat on, no other necklace

You even went and checked the bathroom drawers just in case but nothing

“CAL! PLEASE COME HELP ME FIND IT!!” You yelled getting frustrated

“Hon, it’s just a necklace.” He says coming into the bedroom.

“It is not just a necklace it’s my most prized possession, and I know I didn’t just loose it, I place it back in my jewelry box every time I’m done wearing it, so where the fuck is it?!” You start slamming drawers now.

“Well, don’t break everything just to find this damn necklace.”

“Then help me!” You turn, red to the face and eyes looking like you’re about to cry.

“Hon, don’t cry-“

“Don’t tell me not to cry cause I will!”

You fall on the bed head in your hands, Barrage knew where the necklace was. He opens his nightstand drawer and pulled out the necklace.

“Here.”

“You had it!?”

“I got it polished for you. You know how the creases had that black stuff in it?”

“Yeah?”

“I got it polished and I was going to give it to you, later, but now is fine, sorry for hiding it.”

“It’s okay,” the tears stopped and all there was sniffling in the bedroom. “C-Can you put it on me?”

“Sure, hon.”

Arguments happen but the one thing Barrage kind of likes doing when he knows he’s in the wrong is flex, flexing his big muscles he worked hard on

“No, you’re wrong!”

“How am I wrong?”

“You really wanna sit an argue or are you going to shut up and let me talk?”

“Shut up?” Barrage leans back on the couch flexing his arms that were behind his head.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He smirks

“S-Stop flexing.”

“I’m not flexing. I’m just relaxing.” He says

“…” you couldn’t look away, you love them too, the way he can just pick you up with ease, how when you two have sex you claw at them sometimes breaking skin

“Fuck off,” you say walking away knowing he won that argument but he knows he was wrong

When you start getting a big heated and you start throwing out the bro, dude, bruh words

“Dude I swear to god if you-“

“Did you just ‘dude’ me?” He says

“Yeah and?”

“We have sex…you really wanna be throwing the word dude around?”

NSFW

Having an argument in the middle of sex just turns Barrage on even more.

This man is fucking toxic

He could start an argument over nothing then ask if you’re down for sex afterwards

Honestly thinks it's funny when you rant about your rough and hard day as he goes down on you and you can't think straight because his tongue and mouth feels good on your lower half

When Barrage comes home from work, he'll sometimes be surprised you stayed up to wait for him, only for him to now take his frustrations out on you, while he rants about his day, now

Does he start random arguments? Yes. One day he started one when he came home to no dinner on the table, and express how he would like to have dinner on the table before he comes home, he was smirking the whole time knowing you hate the trad wife bullshit

So, he knows what he is doing

"Ex-fucking-cuse me?" You say, hands on your hips, fury burning in your eyes, and knuckles turning white.

"You heard me woman, I want food on this table by the time I get home," he says.

"Fuck you, now! You get to fix your own damn food for now on, I'll be fixing my food while you figure out how the stove works." As you tun your wrist gets grabbed just for you to be bent over the kitchen table, and you feel his hard dick

"I'm only kidding, hon," he teases.

You hate when Barrage leaves his clothes all over the place, but he does it only to get a good view of his wife being bent over

"Calvin, pick up your clothes, how many times am I going to tell you? We don't live in a pigsty."

"How many times are you going to keep picking up my clothes to realize I'm only doing it to get a clear view of your ass?" He says, you stop and drop his clothes. "Hey."

"Pick up your clothes," she says.

Y/n can start arguments as well, if anything, you both are toxic for each other but you both don't care, you both know you complete each other.

Y/n fixed food for Barrage bring it to him in his home office setting it down on a clear spot and gives him a kiss on the cheek, and then one on his temple, then one on his forehead, neck, cheek again, and then lips.

"Hon, what are you doing?"

"Just kissing you," you tell him as your hands start teasing him, messing with his shirt, then to his belt, getting it unbuckled and then moving your hand before walking out.

"Oh damn, I forgot, I have some chores to do around the house," you say, blue balling your husband.

"You fucking, minx," he growls.

You loved teasing him, I mean the bastard does the same shit to you, why not do it back? You're not hurting anything...maybe his pride, but he'll be okay

"Fuck baby." Barrage held your waist, you bend over his desk, the food wasn't even on his mind anymore, it was how good he was going to fuck you, how good he was going to make you feel

"C-Cal, s-slow down-"

"No, you don't get to make demands here, you teased me and now this is what you get," he says.

[soobnny]

intro (end of the world) — kim seungmin

trope: kim seungmin x fem!reader | exes-to-lovers ; slight angst ; reuniting summary: coming home to the province, you reunite with your first love whom you'd left behind for a life in the city wc: 2.3k words

Gongjin is a small coastal village somewhere a little far from the city. There aren’t many things to do there, but the view of the ocean and the mountains subject it to a few tourists sometimes who are looking for an escape, despite the distance.

The way to your settlement from Seoul takes three hours, but you’re not too sure.

During winter, it takes longer than usual for the train to travel, and the walk downhill is challenging with snow heavy on your boots. However, you’re a few months short of the season, and the spring sun allows you for a shorter trip home.

So, it nearly ends up taking two hours and a half for you to reach Gongjin. And when you take the first few steps into your small town, you can’t help but think of how long it’s been since you’ve felt the familiar light breeze that used to greet you every day. Not a lot has changed in those six years. It still looked as beautiful as ever. 

A gust of wind greets you as you pass the town hall, alongside the chatter of villagers around you. Behind you, the sun was slowly starting to set by the distant ocean. 

On a different day, you could almost remember everything that happened on the route to your house—the wheels of your bike making squeaking noises, the sound of barefoot running, the laughter of two people. Yours and Seungmin’s. 

A whirl of emotions emerge and sink to the bottom of your stomach as you think of your first love. The last time you were home, you’d said goodbye to him. Now, all you have left are pictures in your phone and a supercut of memories. What a grief it is that life and time work in the way they do, always forward and never back.

You decide to blot him out of your thoughts in exchange for the ambiance of the coffee shop you used to frequent. It looked the same, and you wonder if the owner is still the old woman who saw hope in you before you did. 

You pull your scarf over your nose as a few customers slip past you to exit the shop. 

“(Name)?” A familiar voice calls. 

Turning to where it was coming from, you see Hwang Hyunjin waving at you. He looked like a stranger with the way time played beautifully on his features, his now longer hair, and the way his eyes crinkled in experience. But, despite the inevitable change, he still smiled the same.

“Hyun?” You can’t help the way you mirror his smile, greeting him with a hug. He’s warmer than you remember. 

“I grew out my hair and dyed it blonde, what do you think?,” he asks.

“It’s very dramatic, but I don’t expect anything else from you.” He feigns offense at your response, and you laugh at his reaction. It was relieving to know that some things still felt the same. 

“It’s been a while since you came home.” He says, the tone of his voice significantly softer. 

A feeling akin to guilt sits on your sternum. You never got to give him a proper goodbye. You can only laugh a little, trying to shake off the heavy feeling. “How’s Kkami?”

“She’s been eating a lot these days. You should come visit and see her.” Hyunjin catches you up on all things big and small; his painting endeavors, the business he’d opened up, his driving lessons, everything that he can think of. The one-sided conversation was something he didn’t mind. He was just happy you were back, and listening to him like you always did. 

He kept going, kept words flowing, until he decided to stab the air. 

“Does Seungmin know you’re here?” 

Your heart rate begins to rise at the mention of his name, so much so that you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. “Uh, no. I actually just arrived a few hours ago.”

“You should see him. He really misses you, you know. Has for the last six years.” 

You know how devastated he was when you left is something Hyunjin decides to leave out.

You feel your breath catch in your throat, and a mix of contradicting emotions in your stomach.

Seungmin had come before the decision you made of coming to the city, and as much as your recollection of him fails because of time, he’d always been kept safe in your heart.

“Yeah, of course.” 

“I’ll tell him you’re home.” Hyunjin said no more before he wrapped his arms around you in a brief embrace and told you he had to go.

He didn’t have to narrate the details of Seungmin’s grief when you’d left him for the city, didn’t have to tell you how many nights the boy would drunkenly stumble across his apartment, asking where love was and why he hasn’t seen it in years.

He still wears the necklace you’d given him. 

Instead, Hyunjin opts to smile politely before leaving. 

+

You don’t expect anyone to visit your mother’s home except for the delivery man who had with him the water and electricity bills, and sometimes fruits he needed to deliver. No one really came by if they didn’t have any reason to.

The knock at your front door that evening came without warning. You were sure the delivery man dropped by every Saturday, four days away from the present. But you reason it could be a schedule change.

You walk past the living room where the same pieces of furniture stay in the very same places. Your mother never liked changing things and moving them around.

The doorknob scorched your fingers as you reached to open it. 

“Hyunjin wasn’t joking. You really are home.” 

Your eyes grow to double their usual size at the sheer familiarity that greets you at your door. 

“Hi.” Seungmin breathes out. “I’m sorry for barging in like this, but I just had to know for sure that you were… home.” 

It’s been years since you last heard his voice, but you would never lose the ability to distinguish it in a crowd of thousands. 

He had changed so much within the six years that you were gone. The long, brunette hair he’d let fall over his forehead was shorter now, and he had a broader back. He probably came with new mannerisms and routines you wouldn’t be able to recognize. But even then, he still smiled the same, he still laughed the same, he still felt the same.

“You’re here. You’re actually here.” You fail to notice the hopeful glint in his eyes, and the way he’s trying to be careful with his words. How is a conversation supposed to go after being absent for so long? 

“Mom called, said she missed me.”

“The whole town missed you, (Name). I… I missed you.” His tone is a mix of resignation, upset, and a tinge of desperation. Things like these were always hard for Seungmin to admit, but he finds he can’t withhold his honesty when he’s around you. It’s either the truth or nothing with you.

“I missed you too, Min.” And then there’s a flicker of indefinable emotion that flashes across his face at the nickname you used to call him, but he tries to make it look calculated. It isn’t fair that you still have him feeling this way, not when you’d left him.

And you don’t have the audacity to have been so cruel to him and not invite him to your home any longer, so you ask if he wants to come in, and he asks if you’re sure, and you’re not, but you let him in anyway.

+

“Hi.” Seungmin starts again.

You don’t realize how much has been deprived of you until you invite him back into your life unknowingly. And you’re unsure of what to say to him, not after so many years have passed by. Not after what you did to him.

At first, Seungmin had tried to make up for the distance between you. He’d send you messages, call once a month at least, as if it would be able to salvage whatever the two of you had left. 

In that way, you could still be a part of his life. And he kept it up, for a while, even when you long stopped replying. He wrote, and messaged, and never expected a reply until he stopped. He would never know why you’d cut contact with him. 

He would never know why you just wouldn’t remember to miss him like he did with you.

The first year, you ached for your old life. You were afraid you’d run home the longer he’d talked to you, not when you’ve worked too hard to achieve the greatness you’d always aimed for. 

“Your hair’s shorter.”

“Just wanted to try something new.” He lets out a small laugh, brings a hand to his hair in an abashed scratch.

“It looks good. Uh, sit down. Wherever you’d like.” You don’t know what else to say, or how to respond to him. You choose to walk a few steps towards your kitchen instead. “Do you still drink coffee the same way?”

“Yeah.” He takes a seat just as you turn off the faucet, setting the kettle on high heat.

There are so many things you want to say to him—things you had refused to say before and you’re too afraid to say now because they’ll all just come out wrong. They’ve fossilized in your mouth for so long.

You take the two cups and make your way towards him. “Here. It’s always cold on spring nights.” You hand one to him before hesitantly sitting next to him. When he takes a sip, you decide to say the two words that’d burdened you since you arrived.

“I’m sorry.” 

Seungmin keeps the piping hot mug in his hands.

“It’s okay.” 

While it had pained him that the only way he could get to you before were Facebook posts he refuses to mute, he’d gotten over it. It didn’t hurt as much as it brought a nauseating nostalgia. 

“But it’s not.” 

You don’t mean to, but your eyes lock with his, the same eyes you’d avoid meeting with the fear of seeing a life you could’ve lived with him if you stayed. You don’t want him to think you weren’t at least apologetic for what you did, even if it was for the better.

“I understand why you did it.” You watch his shoulders relax as he takes another sip. He doesn’t let his eyes stray away from you than the few seconds it takes to drink coffee. Genuine.

“But I hurt you.” It comes out in a whisper, and it looks like you’re beating yourself in your head. You say it like your wrists are meant to be bound in chains. Like you deserved the pain you’d inflicted on him.

“You didn’t mean to.” He mutters. He has the sound of understanding in his voice. “It’s not your fault I still think of you every single day after you left, either.”

The same moon reflected on the same surfaces even after you left, and the same stars twinkle in your absence. They make him regard your absence. They just remind him of you. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

“Do you…” Seungmin hesitates. “Do you ever think of me too?”

“All the time. I was so afraid I’d forget you.”

“Did you?”

“No. But I’ve forgotten a lot of things.” You bring your line of sight to his hands. Were his palms as warm as it was when he’d held your hand the day you left? Do you recount the way he kissed you correctly? 

“Will you help me remember?,” you whisper, meaning to say it to yourself. He hears you.

His lips twitch at your question. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t need to. Not when he moves to sit a little closer to you, not when he sets his mug down in favor of taking your hand in his. 

How dare the city cost the feeling of his hand in yours? 

Seungmin looks at you with the kind of smile he hasn’t felt since you said goodbye to the province. A squeeze of your hand follows. It prompts you to bring your sight to his lips, and the way he’s looking at you like he did years ago. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

He brushes his lips against yours so delicately. Almost hesitant. Almost hopeful that you want the same thing. You kiss him after you say another ‘sorry’.

Seungmin kisses you with the thought of never letting go, the way he had wanted to for years, the way he had been stripped of the ability to. He kisses you with the same love, the same beating heart from six years ago. There is heat, and heat, and desperation, and love, and heat when his fingers graze over your cheeks. 

When he pulls back, your mouth twitches with the urge to kiss him again. You do, and every emotion you’ve felt the past years collide into the kiss. His hands fit perfectly locked around your waist, just like they’ve always been. And while his hands were a little rough, his lips were soft, forgiving even if there was a little pain etched in it.

He snatches you by the arm and brings you to his chest when you’ve lost your breath, hands bunching in the sweater you’re wearing, the one his mom had given you many Christmases ago. 

When he holds you, you palpitate in fear of the forgetting spirit’s pursuit. That you’ll forget how this would feel again.

Seungmin holds you tighter. There is still so much to make up for all the things you’ve forgotten, and all the things he lost when you left.

He hopes he’ll be enough to make you stay this time.

note. in honor of eternal sunshine (deluxe), here’s a from the vaults fic i’ve kept in my drafts since last year. enjoy!

[charliemwrites]

Mafia!Price warm up because I am… so tired. I’ve had back-to-back events the last few days and ya bitch canNOT hang. So, while I rehydrate and wait for caffeine to work it’s magic, here’s this:

Part 1 here

No Content Warnings

Mr. Price is the best boss you’ve ever had. He’s straightforward and blunt, but unfalteringly courteous. Likes things a certain way — his own way — but that’s nothing you’re unfamiliar with from rich men responsible for billions. At very least, he seems to respect when you challenge him.

“We’ve always done records this way,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” you answer serenely, “but that was before you had me.”

He stares you down and you beam right back, tablet balanced on your forearm. One beat, two. In the corner of your eye, you see Gaz shift. You tilt your head at your boss.

He sits back in his big office chair, thumb swiping over his index and middle fingers. A gesture you’ve been mentally cataloguing as “contemplative” — perhaps deciding if he’s annoyed or amused. You don’t let yourself get nervous seeing it; you’re good at your job and you know it. He’s going to know it too, by god.

“And what do you have to do with it, luv?”

Your smile stretches wider as you take that as an invitation to round his desk. He turns and shifts a bit to make room for you, eyebrows ticking up as you set a neatly paper-clipped report in front of him, highlighted for convenience.

“See here?” You point at one section, a list of finance records. “Inconsistencies that the accountants took two months to notice. Two!”

He grunts as you set it aside, face up, for further perusal and then show him the next set. Different highlighter (and a smiley face in the corner).

“And look here, doing it this way, we noticed the discrepancies within a week,” you explain.

He picks up the page, eyes scanning over it thoroughly before setting it down. Taps his index finger over the discrepancy (circled in bright red) twice.

“Would you happen to have the account — ah, thank you.”

You hum, smoothing the sticky note (hot pink, shaped like a heart) onto the page. “So what do you think, sir?”

He runs a hand down his face, palm rasping over his beard. But there is a grateful note to his gaze as he glances at you.

“We’ll be doing it this way from now on, then.”

“Thrilling, sir. I’ll send out a memo.”

He waves you off, frown already forming on his face. You politely leave his office, stop by the break room to make a fresh cup of tea (a dollop of cream only, no sugar) and knock on the closed door. It’s Gaz that opens it.

“For the boss,” you say. “Before heads start rolling.”

“You’re a doll,” he breathes, accepting the cup and slipping back inside.

You happily toddle back to your desk and begin calling appointment confirmations. You’ve got about a million emails and a hundred calls to make.

—

Working for Price also comes with some… eccentricities. For one, you have a driver now.

Usually Farah, sometimes her partner Alex. On the rare occasion it’s Gaz. They always usher you into the backseat. On rainy days (so, most days in the UK) they hold an umbrella over your head while you scurry into the luxury leather interior of whatever stupidly expensive ride you’re taking.

That was a non-negotiable when you and Mr. Price discussed the details of your employment contract with him. Something about safety…? You feel silly being driven to work as an assistant, but it was your first encounter with the Steel Gaze of Decision and it was unfortunately effective.

Not that you mind the rides! All three of your usual drivers are wonderful. So friendly and chatty. You love hearing about Alex’s niece and Farah’s hobbies, Gaz’s little “spats” with Soap. You spoil them with extra treats from whatever bakery you make them stop at for morning breakfast. (Always local, you love supporting small businesses and strong arm Price into doing so as well).

There’s the gun as well. You’ve only seen it once or twice, always discreetly hidden under his suit jacket. A shoulder holster, all black. Pretend that you don’t see it because… well, you’re not entirely sure it’s legal and you’d rather live in the blissful cloud of plausible deniability.

And speaking of — there’s his bodyguard. To be fair, bodyguards aren’t a new or weird presence with your bosses. Expensive men, they need protection. Ghost is a different kind though.

He always covers the lower half of his face — actually, he’s covered head to toe. Usually in black, sometimes with little skeleton or skull motifs. And he’s fucking big, which is saying something because Mr. Price isn’t a small man either.

Ghost hardly interacts with you, but he’s unfailingly polite when he does. Not talkative, but he holds doors for you, has walked you down to the car. Even once attitude-checked a guest that decided to be rude to you. Didn’t even say anything, just walked into the guy’s personal bubble and stared him down until he subsided. Then he turned, gave you a nod, and you squeezed his arm before toddling off to let Price know his appointment had arrived.

All around the vibes in the office are pleasant, if sometimes stuffy. A little odd. All of his employees are polite if not kind to you, and Price himself is a fair and reasonable man — at least with you.

(The first time you heard him raise his voice through the closed office door nearly scared the daylights out of you. He always uses a low, even tone when speaking to you, so to hear his voice booming like that was something of a shock. Even more shocking was when he opened the door — damn near throwing his “guest” out — before turning to you.

“Call Farah when you have a mo’, would you?” He asked, calm as you please.

You blinked, still having war flashbacks of your last boss. “Yes, sir.”

“Cheers, luv.”)

There’s also the “field trips” as you call them.

Mr. Price is something of a very “hands on” businessman (“micromanager” you tease when he’s in a good mood) who has a hand in several industries. One of them is shipping. Which means that sometimes you find yourself standing beside him in warehouses or at loading docks. And of course you have to go, you’re his assistant! You take meeting notes, provide information or report details. Basically act as his second brain while he reams out idiots or organizes plans.

You suck it up, but you rather hate the smell of low tide. And the occasional gusts of blood on the sea breeze from fishermen gutting their catches. Price catches you looking ill once or twice and at least makes an effort to keep things short after that.

“Poor thing,” Soap teases when you’re in the back of the car, fussing at your wind-swept hair. “Get a bit blown, did you?”

“MacTavish,” Price snaps.

That’s the other thing. Even the slightest hint of suggestive or inappropriate words at your expense are met with firm, almost harsh, reprimand from your boss. It does wonders for you nerves and your respect for him.

“Wish I’d known we were going to the docks,” you sigh, carefully picking at pins to fix your hair. “I would have used more hairspray.”

“Thought I told you?” Price says.

“No, sir, you did not,” you answer, long-suffering. “You know you can put it into the scheduling app, right?”

He blinks. “Scheduling app.”

You blink back at him. “Oh, dear. Here, look at this.”

You spend the entire ride back to the office showing him how your scheduling software works so that you don’t have to deal with any more surprise dock visits.

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Masterlist

[w2sology]

Kids fic/dilf Harry plsss

big little boss, harry lewis.

summary: harry just can't seem to say no when it comes to his little girl, especially when she's taken his pestering and temper.

warnings: mentions of baby teething, not proofread!

notes: had to pull out the prompt list for this one 😭 anyways babygirl finally has a name thanks to the beautiful anon who recommended it :))

darcy had recently began teething and it was an absolute mare. you and harry were up later than usual trying to get her to sleep or soothing her pain, and nothing seemed to be working. one of the few things that did work was letting her lay skin to skin on harry's chest until she fell asleep.

however a problem with that was that darcy was a biter. as in anything remotely near her mouth would feel the consequences of her not-yet-there teeth.

harry was taking the brunt of it, his skin littered in little marks from when he'd hold her close to him and she'd just grab at whatever was closest to her. and in response, harry would yelp or cuss, hoping she was still in that phase where she didn't yet understand words enough to repeat them back.

with you on the other hand, darcy was much more gentle. she'd only give you a nibble here and there if your fingers were close to her mouth, somehow being able to sense that the look you were giving her wasn't one of approval.

also, unlike harry you actually utilised the teething toys that were gifted to you two at your baby shower, so darcy was pretty much preoccupied with chewing on something else other than you.

today was a pretty regular day for your small family; harry wasn't filming with the boys and you were still on maternity leave with no plans for the day. deciding to use it as a means to go for a big shop later on, you and harry made a start early on in the day.

"did you make her bottle or should i?" harry mumbled as his arms wrapped around your body, tucked in comfortably right behind you as you made yourself a cup of tea.

"that's alright, love, i already did it," smiling at this soft kisses he left along your neck and on your cheek. "is she up yet?"

harry nodded, telling you that darcy was having a bit of tummy time in the sitting room. and as you looked over, you couldn't help but laugh at the makeshift fort harry had made our of pillows to make sure nothing happened to darcy.

he allowed you to finish your tea, opting to get darcy dressed for the day.

"how the fuck does this go on?" harry mumbled to himself, fiddling with the button on darcy's blouse. he really didn't know why kids clothes had to be almost as complicated as adult clothes.

darcy babbled on to herself as harry slid on her socks, making random noises as harry entertained her too, pretending they were having a conversation of their own.

as he picked her up off of the bed, harry looked through his wardrobe in search of his own outfit for the day.

darcy's head lay on her dad's shoulder poking around at his skin before she stopped briefly.

next thing harry knew, her sharp gums were sinking into his bare shoulder.

"ow─── darc!" he groaned, mismatching her smile and refusal to release his shoulder.

maybe that was harry's fault for not wearing a shirt.

"i told you to wear a shirt around her," you couldn't hold in your laugh as you walked in, taking your daughter from her father's arms and wiping over the baby pink mark that she left on him.

"i didn't know she was gonna fucking bite me at every chance," harry huffed, kissing your lips before leaving to get changed himself.

"you," you said, tickling darcy's tummy and hearing her bright laugh. "need to stop biting your daddy."

it turns out you and harry didn't actually pick a place to shop at. usually you'd go to tesco, sometimes asda or costco. but since you didn't plan which of them to go to, harry ended up driving to tesco.

ever since you gave birth, he'd been offering to drive you around a lot more, slotting away from his preferred role of passenger princess. and you weren't complaining, not one bit.

so as you opened up the makeshift shopping list on your notes, harry sat darcy in the kids's seat of the trolley and began to push her.

shopping with harry usually consisted of him grabbing random things and claiming they were needed, whereas you were more organised and actually took note of what you did and didn't have at home.

now with a little one, it was like harry's role had been multiplied by two. whenever she could reach out for something, darcy would make a show of clinging onto it with her little hands until you and harry had no choice but to take it with you to the till.

as you picked out two boxes of cereal, harry was entertaining darcy, who seemed nothing short of unamused. she watched as her dad poked and prodded gently at her, waiting for a smile to decorate her face.

"what's gotten into you, hm?" he frowned, stroking her cheek with his finger, momentarily forgetting his daughter was teething.

"darc, you've gotta stop biting me," harry whimpered, pulling his finger away from her grip. he looked over at you with a frown, cradling his finger but you were to immersed in the food shoo to realise.

you continued to scroll through the aisles, harry and darcy following right behind you. every now and then you'd turn to harry, holding up and item and he'd either nod yes or shake his head no.

it went on like that for a few moments until darcy grew a little agitated with sitting still for too long. just harry's luck, you guys were near the baby aisle, so he took darcy down there in hopes of finding something to distract her for a little bit.

a small teething toy caught his eye, and actually made him let out a sigh of relief, as if darcy would be able to take it out on the toy now and not on him.

"here you go," he smiled, letting her hold on to it. he wasn't sure if you two would end up buying it or not, so he kept it in its packaging, hoping she'd find some entertainment in just looking at it.

and that she did; she was quiet for the rest of the shop aside from the occasional babble and giggle she let out.

now at the till, harry helped you unload the shopping, and it was then that you noticed the nee toy darcy had. "really, harry?" you held in a laugh.

"what?"

"she's got like ten of those already, and some are in her bag," you gestured to darcy's baby essential bag that you brought with you.

harry glanced down at the bag, then back at you, shrugging as he continued to unload the shopping. "one more won't hurt."

harry was such a girl dad, he couldn't ever bring himself to say no to her. quite like he was with you sometimes.

you rolled your eyes, attempting to take the toy away from darcy to place on the till with the rest of the stuff. "darcy, babe, i'm just going to pay for it," you laughed at her super strong grip, and the frown that replaced her smile, similar to how harry looked when he was moping about.

she shook her head, trying to hide the the toy close to her chest. she looked over at harry with those huge eyes of hers, expecting him to intervene.

and that he did. he let you unpack the small amount of items still in the trolley as he picked darcy out of it, kissing all over her face to distract her from the fact that the toy was no longer in her hands, but instead on the conveyor belt.

but darcy didn't seem to notice. instead, both her small hands were on either side of harry's face, squishing and poking as she smiled and babbled to him.

you didn't know how he did it, it was as if he was just meant to understand her better than you. you didn't mind though, it meant that harry was the one who got the end of darcy's little tantrums instead of you.

when it came to pay for the items, harry reached over and tapped his phone on the card machine, ignoring the glare you were giving him as you collected the receipt.

"you thought you almost got away with it," he laughed, knowing that no matter what, he'd always pay if you were with him.

he helped you but the bags back in the trolley, darcy safely in his hold as you walked back to the car.

when she was buckled in, harry handed her the toy that she surely forgot all about, kissing her forehead. "now you can stop biting me," he smiled, going back to the driver's side.

you smiled at your daughter through the mirror, matching that smile to harry's when he put his seatbelt on.

"why're you looking all soppy, then?"

"nothing," you rolled your eyes, smile still on your face. "just happy, is all."

[jsmainblog]

bedtime 𓈒⟡₊⋆∘

requests are always open <3

summary: in which reader and spencer have been seperated for a bit longer than usual because of a case and spencer comes home exhausted

warnings: none!

💗-fluff

Spencer was never gone for this long. In all your months of dating your genius boyfriend had gone on a plethora of work trips which spanned the usual couple of days. But this time he was gone for a week and a half.

A week and a half you haven't heard his incessant ramblings (that you secretly love), for a week and a half you haven't felt his arms wrap around you, for a week and a half you haven't seen that small grin you adore dearly. During your separation the lack of his presence tugged at the flood gates spilling worry into your mind. What if something happened? Maybe he was hurt? Or worse..?

You lay in bed reading in the soft dim light trying to sweep the worry out of your mind. When a couple minutes later the front door opened and clicked closed silently relief tumbled over you feeling you with a giddy warmth at seeing Spencer. You walk out of your room where you see his tall, lanky frame pouring a cup of coffee.

"Spence?" you say groggily, rubbing your eyes to fight of their droopiness. He turns and offers you a dreary smile. The crescent moons under his eyes are shades of purple and red, his eyes look a little bloodshot and he moves slowly like if his body weighed a ton.

"Hey angel what are you still doing up" he says hoarsely.

"Reading"

He smiles clumsily and walks over to you wrapping his arms around your middle, burying his head into your shoulder. It feels nice to finally be enveloped by his warmth, to feel the soothing sounds of his soft breathing and heart beat. You feel his lips reverently touch your shoulder planting a kiss there which makes a giddy smile cross your face. Your arms which rest on his shoulders play with his hair on the nape of his neck which earns a breathy sigh from him.

"Tough case?" you inquire. You've seen first hand the emotional tolls some cases have taken on him and you can make the deduction that the longer they are the more demanding they are, not only physically, but emotionally and mentally as well.

"Mhm" he hums into your shoulder nodding his head subtly.

"You know what makes it harder though?" he questions raising his head a little to look at you.

"What?"

"Being away from you. I missed you so so so much y/n" he admits. He places a soft kiss to your cheek and then one to your lips. He holds the kiss for a little while his hands moving to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. When you break he studies your face trying to commit it to memory. Which he probably is, which in your opinion gets a little intimidating sometimes.

"I missed you too" you mumble sweetly smiling up at him.

"You know your even more beautiful then the last time I saw you?" he says quietly like a prayer. He offers you a big dorky grin.

You snort, laughing at his attempts of flirting with you in his semi delirious state.

"Shut up"

"I'm being serious!" he laughs breathlessly.

"Okay I think it's your bedtime." you say ruffling his hair which earns a whine from him. You know he'd rather forfeit his sleep just to stay up to talk to you and hold you. But he needs his sleep. After all, isn't the saying good things comes to all who wait?

He set's down his mug and intertwines his hand with yours. You practically have tug him to you guy's room because he started to fall asleep upright. You both eventually settle in bed in each others arms.

"I love you Spencer." you murmur to him. Your response is his soft snores which makes you roll your eyes and laugh quietly before you are consumed by sleep aswell.

[citruslullabies]

Can you do one about Anya, like the Daisuke and Curly posts, please?🙏 They're very good!

Of course sweetheart!!

Anya Mouthwashing headcannons

Trigger warnings!! Miscarriage, Jimmy, obviously if you know the game I'm making subtle hints towards rape, etc etc. read with caution.

Romantic

Pre-crash Anya:

Anya is a very sweet girl honestly

She's not very big on affection - the occasional hug and kiss here and there but she's not very big on touch. Quality time is more her style

All she really needs is to sit next to you quietly, as long as you're there, she feels safe

Especially after what happened with Jimmy. She hates to be alone.

But at the same time she wants to distance herself more

And she hates it

Any time you go in for a hug, she'll flinch

It was any day in space, cold and bland like oatmeal left out on the table. But it felt better almost immediately after you saw her.. the love of your life, Anya. You smile like the sun and walk over, arms wide but.. you watch as she suddenly stops and stares at you. As if you had done something wrong.. her breathing even starts to get faster and she quickly brushes you off and leaves. Leaving you worried and confused.

You can try and try to ask her what's wrong but she isn't sure how you'd react

What if you thought she had cheated on you with her assaulter? She knew many people reacted like that sometimes

She loves you and trusts you, but she needs distance

Much to your dismay, she just suddenly keeps away from everyone one day. Even you.

You long for her little rambles about psychology and medicines

Her quiet humming as you two sit together

It hurts.

Post-crash Anya:

You knew how stressed she was

I mean, how couldn't she be? Everything has gone to shit. Their captain was mutilated on all ends.

And she seemed more afraid than ever.

She started to slowly warm back up to you, but still wouldn't tell you any explanation

No matter how much you begged or pleaded for one

But her time around you seemed different

She was more affectionate than ever before

It was almost like it was a goodbye

She'd always do small things like nudge your hand with hers and give you a weak smile every morning

Almost as if it was a silent goodbye in case she didn't make it through the day

And you finally understood why.

Platonic

Pre-crash Anya:

I imagine you two would be a bit more goofy

If she's not busy, you're just goofing around and making funny faces to make her giggle

You two probably talk about psychology a lot together and your hopes for your futures when you return home

Sometimes she'll let the occasional demented comment slip, but you never paid it much mind

She told you what happened and you were livid

But what could you do about it?? It's not like you could

You had no position of power over Jimmy, the one man who did didn't have enough of a spine to do anything to his friend

All you could do was comfort her

But she slowly but surely drifted further and further away from you, from everybody

And every day you could see her eyes more and more empty

You had noticed her feeling more and more nauseous, cramping more

She was paler

But you assumed it was due to the pregnancy. However you quickly discovered that she took enough painkillers to cause a miscarriage

You supported her and tried to comfort her

But she didn't let you

She wanted to be alone

Post-crash Anya:

After the crash, with responsibilities crashing down on her

She was tired. And you could tell

Her body barely had enough time to recover from her miscarriage before she started to take care of their captain

She was slowly killing herself at this rate

And you couldn't be any more correct.

She just got worse and worse

You swore sometimes you could see her eyes were dead but her body just barely moving

She didn't seem to care anymore

It broke your heart to find her with pills surrounding her.

Atleast your heart wouldn't stay broken for long

Thank you for requesting!!

[cvnt4him]

No wait wait… this came to me at 11:00 pm-

Izuku asking his best friend for tips on flirting, so she shows him, getting all close and backs him up against the wall, and figures she’s going too far, and starts to back off, but Izuku just ends up kissing her. I’m gonna write this as well, but I wanna see your version!

:)

You got it candie<33

You and izuku were studying for whatever you could, just talking and joking around chatting about whatever topic happened to pop up between the two of you. A small silence fell upon you two, it wasn't an uncomfortable one just one that happened on its own.

Something had clearly been on izukus mind all day, it seems whatever it was had poked it's head back into his mind. A small frown painting his freckled face. He stopped studying and just started fiddling with his pen, twirling it around his fingers with a sigh.

He sets his pen down and turns to you, wide eyes staring at you pleadingly. You turned slowly to face him with a small grin and a scoff, why'd he been looking at you like that? What was going on behind those big big eyes of his?

“ may I help you?”

He whined in response. Izuku was known for getting easily embarrassed, he turned as red as a strawberry sometimes. You had an effect on him that seemed to always fluster him, whether it be just a look or the way you touched him. He liked it and wanted to learn.

“ how do you .. like, how do you uhm..”

“ uhmmmmm??”

“ f- flirt? I... guess?”

That was a complete surprise. Your eyes went wide as you like jumped back like you were stunned. You hummed biting both of your lips and furrowing your brows. A small pout formed on izukus face, he whined once more a small blush creeping onto his baby-like cheeks as he gently punched you in the arm.

You were one of izukus closest friends, he held you near and dear to his heart. None of his other friends flirted like you though, you always had much more of an effect on him than others. He wanted to learn from you, for educational purposes of course.

“ what uh..— why?”

“ huh?”

“ just.......why.”

His eyes darted from side to side with a confused and still bashful expression on his face. what did you mean?

“ I... don't follow.”

“ like. ugh— WHY, do you want to learn how to flirt??”

His eyes widened before he looked away, blush raging across his cheeks. He murmured something underneath his breath, you hadn't heard him but completely guessed.

“ oh— ITS A GIRL ISNT IT!”

He perked up, his face and ears completely red as he turned to you before slamming his head on the desk, you gasp dramatically then laugh maniacally standing and jumping all around. Izuku hadn't had many crushes before, he hasn't even had a girlfriend. To think this 22 year old man has never had a girlfriend, it's shocking because he's a very attractive guy he's literally the kind of guy every girl goes online complaining about wanting. He's a walking green flag.

You sat back down slightly out of breath with a wide smile on your face, izuku peeked up before trying to hide his face again you grabbed him by his cheeks and made him look at you, his eyes widened as he looked you directly in your eyes.

“ you wanna learn how to flirt — I'm gonna teach you.”

Izuku gulped before calming himself, a small blush was still present sure but the intenseness had gone, his cheeks were still warm as you taught him the basics. Small things like holding eye contact, giving compliments which he was very good at.

“ what uhm... aboutlikemakingout..”

You stopped talking and turned to him. You hadn't exactly heard what he said, it was all smashed together and incoherent. You turned your head to the side slightly and hummed.

“ uhmmm. what!!”

You say with a faux smile, he couldn't look at you just fiddling with his fingers and stalling not wanting to repeat himself. He was nervous but craved to learn.

“ just.... what about...like.. kissing.”

“ huh?”

“ kissing.....”

“ bro what.”

“ k- kissing!!”

He exclaimed loudly. Hiding his face in his hands with a groan. You blinked at him with no expression, was he seriously getting bent out of shape over learning how to kiss? I mean sure it's kind of embarrassing kissing someone when you dont know how but, seriously?

“ zuku, that's what you were so nervous about? dude that's easy. just like pucker your lips n’ kiss. that easy.”

“ n-no but like.. urgh. I mean like.. making out? I guess? how do you just like keep it going...”

The way he looked at you, his eyes searching for something. You could tell he craved for something more.

You hum and think. Most of the time when you've made out with people the only thing on your mind is.....nothing! who thinks about things when they're making out?!

“ it's simple really,”

‘is it.’ Izuku thinks to himself.

“-all you really do is kiss. if you aren't sure about the mechanics of...well, anything, just let them take the lead.”

That seems easy enough but little did you know; he's petrified! He doesn't know how to kiss anyone. It's never happened to him before!

The frown that came onto his face was so sad n silly you couldn't help but smile. You clear your throat and think. ‘Is there any other way you can help him?’

Just as you were about to propose an idea, izuku speaks up.

“ can you..kiss me?”

The shocked face you made nearly made him cry. He whimpered and quickly looked away covering his mouth, he could not believe he just said such a thing.

“ i- I'm sorry I didn't mean it! Y'know what- let's just forget about this!”

He was quick to stammer an apology, instantly springing up and gathering his things to leave.

“ wait wait wait, hey stop!”

You quickly grab him and pull him back down to you. He was shaking in your hands.

“ hey, it's okay. really... sure, I can..kiss you.”

You give him a half smile and speak softly to him. He sniffled he wished you didn't speak to him like this, he wished he hadn't just embarrassed himself. He feels as if you feel pressured to do so because he said something as stupid as that.

You sounded so unsure it broke his heart.

“ you don't have -”

“ I know. I want to.”

He gasped lowly and looked in your eyes before gulping down. A red blush rushing to his freckled face. He had a wobbly expression that was quite weary, it fit exactly how this poor thing felt.

You ushered him closer so you could grab either side of his face, both of your hands finding themselves in his cheeks. You give him a small smile, this one more comforting and welcoming. As if you bear no judgement.

He bites the skin on his lip before you move your thumb and pull his lip from his teeth. His lip was quivering and you could slightly feel the roughness of it. He had a biting habit, normally doing it when he was stressed nervous or thinking. So y'know, all the time.

His breaths were uneven and jittery, he fiddled with his fingers and his eyes stayed locked onto you, he let you do anything you wanted to him. anything.

With a final sigh you move in slowly craning your head slightly to the side as you leaned in, izukus eyes widened and frantically moved across your body before squeezing shut. He whimpered lowly underneath his breath as your lips finally gently landed onto his.

To describe his lips would be; rough and quite plump yet pillowy/doughy. He had no idea what he was doing but all the more reason to help him learn!

You held his face closely and began pulling him deeper into the kiss. To help him of course! Not because you wanted to or anything! That would be.. ridiculously ridiculous.

His breathing slowed down yet his heart was still racing, practically beating out of his chest. His hands had stilled in his lap as he was completely taken away by the kiss.

You opened your mouth in the kiss which caused him to do the same, taking your advice to heart. He let you take complete control and just copied what you did.

Unintentionally you let your tongue swipe against his bottom lip causing him to jump a little. It startled him and he didn't know what to do with this. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't hot though.

Your tongue seemed as if it had a mind of its own diving into his mouth and dancing with his. He didn't know what he was doing but he played along with it. A groan let his mouth as he felt your tongue against his. It was so....weird yet enticing.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't want more.

You could tell by the way he was heavily breathing through the kiss and occasionally through his nose that somehow he was getting breathless. You pulled away and let him catch his breath only for him to take a singular breath before pulling you back in, grabbing you by your thighs and pulling you into his lap.

Izuku held your hips tightly, his scarred hands gripping you like you were a cure for his illness. He wanted more, he was already so drunk off of what little you gave him. He needed more.

But just as you two were getting comfy a knock came to the door. Causing you to jump back and break the kiss again. He groaned in annoyance. His first time kissing someone gets interrupted. How lame

You were about to speak before izuku put his large hand around your mouth.

“ dont. maybe they'll go away.”

You look at him with wide eyes before slowly nodding. He kept his hand around your mouth though, just to ensure you didn't let out a noise.

You both waited for a couple of minutes before the sound of footsteps fading was heard momentarily.

Izuku removes his hand and sighs heavily.

“ well that was... something, huh?”

“ yeah...”

Izuku seemed quite disappointed the ‘lesson’ had to end.

“ so. whaddya think? how was your first make out session?”

fucking amazing. He wanted that shit to never end. He wanted to hold you closely once more and feel your soft lips on his. He wanted you to take his breath away and more.

“ it was cool!”

Yeah. ‘cool’.

“ it uhm, was very informative.”

“ yeah?”

“ mhm! although, tongues feel......weird.”

“ yeahh..”

You both blankly stared at one another before bursting into laughs.

You just hoped that this wouldn't cause any problems for you two in the future. It shouldn't though! Right?

AN: this is very old. I've only now finished it because I had the time.it's been a while since I've written anything, ik this isn't kinktober but I will be out with ‘wardrobe malfunction’ soon so don't kill me pls

[writella]

The Confession

Synopsis: Confessions shared with the wrong person gone so sinfully right.

Details: rick grimes x reader, afab!reader, smut—masturbation, unprotected sex, riding, both rick and reader being desperate in the dark. I made the exact reason for the confession and occasion very vague. 18+, wc: 2.6k. Proof read, but there might be some errors.

A/N: Not sure how much I like this one, but I had this idea back in early October and I wanted to finish it and give you guys something after a whole month.

I miss you, I’m sorry. Hope you’re all well!! With love from writella. ♡

Your voice is solemn and heavy as you sigh before starting, “I don’t do this very often,” you say, “I hope this is okay.” Your eyes lowering shamefully as you stop. It’s only the first sentence and you’re finding it hard to continue. It’s almost as if there are needles piercing into your throat. “I just feel so embarrassed,” you admit.

Then you pause.

No response from him comes after.

Only silence fills the dark and hallow space of the wooden confession box. Only your thoughts, every creak you made on the built-in bench, and the light wind that rustled from the cracked door were heard.

You wait a second longer.

Hoping.

But still, nothing.

Part of you was suspecting that Gabriel would have been more inviting, telling you it’s okay; and doing so with his kind and gentle voice, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t doing anything it seemed. You only saw the silhouette of his face when you walked inside— the outline of a nose and mouth, really. He seemed to be sitting as far from the small barred window as he could, but you didn’t dare look again. You didn’t even turn on the light fixture in the corner. Your fear was all too big, and his unwavering quietness made it worse.

Maybe you had come at the wrong time, maybe you interrupted him. You almost wanted to ask. But maybe confessions happened in complete silence… you didn’t know anymore, but at this point, you were hoping so. You had already wasted five minutes and managed only one sentence. Perhaps he heard the fear in your voice and was just trying to be a good listener… yes, maybe, you pretend as you urged yourself to start again:

You breathe in sharply, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The words come out in an uneasy, hushed whisper. “It happens a lot and I know it’s wrong. And you’re probably going to look at me differently after this, but I have to tell someone so I can stop.”

Your eyes screw shut, the next phrase coming out jumbled and continuous as you try to explain yourself quickly: “I’ve journaled about it and told myself it’s wrong but it’s not helping.” You start to weep, almost laughing at yourself, “I feel so stupid.”

You sigh and you almost think you hear him do so too, but you keep going.

“I’ve been thinking about someone,” you finally say. “For a long time. And I know it’s bad, I know it, but I do it anyway. It's all I think about.”

Another pause.

You catch your breath.

You wait.

But nothing.

So, you start again.

“I think I love him sometimes.” And if you couldn’t get any more timid, your cheeks flush, and your voice grows quieter, “I like his hair, and his eyes, those button-downs he always wears…” you smile at yourself, these were silly things, “Even his beard.”

And then you hear him shuffle, and a light sound is emitted.

It startles you, but silence ensues again thereafter. Maybe you imagined it.

“I like his kindness too. People would usually say strong or giving, but that’s what I like to tell him— that he’s kind. I think he’s kinder than other people give him credit for. He’s just protective. Everyone, and especially himself, we put a lot of pressure on him to make the hard decisions, but, really…” and there it is, “that's not the only way I think about him. There are things–” your throat tightens again– “ things that I think about. And things that I do.” Your eyes screw tight as you force yourself to say it, “I touch myself.”

Another bout of silence comes before the question.

One you’d never suspect.

“Can you describe it?” The voice asks, dark and curious.

The cool spring air of the night turns cold, but it adds no relief to the summer heat that burns in your heart as it begins to beat painfully. The texture in his voice, the inflection at the end that lined the sentence as a request, it rings through one ear and out the other and back again in a cycle.

You knew who it was.

“What?” You shriek so lightly as if playing dumb would help you now. He knew who you were talking about, you made it so desperately obvious.

“Can you,” he repeats steadily, “describe it?”

“I… shouldn’t.”

“What other better time could there be?” You can’t tell if he truly means it. His voice remains firm and lets out no hints of his true intentions, but despite doubt, you start anyway. He’s right after all, you’re in here because there hasn’t been a better time.

“I- I start by touching up my thighs, trailing up slowly… I always get so nervous… I never do it fast because I know I shouldn’t do it while thinking about you- about him,” you correct yourself, squeezing your thighs together, your hands gripping the bench tightly.

“But you do it anyway.”

“I do,” you reply meekly.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“I can't.”

“What happens when you finally reach all the way up?”

“Gotta touch myself.”

He puts his hands on his knees, making sure his voice stays leveled. “Where do you start?”

“Rubbing my clit.”

“Do it.”

And then you do. You truly can’t help it. Your fingers slide down your hips to the front of your heat, chilly fingers pressing up against your lips over your underwear.

He hears the little sigh as you finally allow your finger to reach your clit in between.

“How does it feel?”

“My fingers are cold right now, so,” a quick breathy laugh leaves you, “ good, really good.” You rub your fingers in slow circles, but your hand and hips jerk, forcing you to speed up, but you try, try to not seem so pathetic to yourself as if there was any attempt at going back now.

His voice’s a slight strain as he asks, “And what do you think about?” He starts to rub his thighs, feeling his cock stir to the side of his jeans, making the material feel tighter than it truly was. His fingers trail closer, knuckles brushing against his erection. He’s pretending like he can stop himself too. “What does he do in your head, sweetheart?”

“He watches,” you say as your movements speed up again. You really can’t help it now, his voice edges you on. Your hand goes under the band of your underwear, fingers collecting wetness below to bring up to your clit, “He’s standing at the edge of the bed,” you tell him, “he’s unbuttoning his shirt, and then he starts taking off his belt… He’s smiling.”

If only you knew that hearing how bad you wanted him was making him do the same thing on the other side.

You’re panting now, one foot comes up to the bench as you slide yourself over to press your back into the corner of the wall, your head tilting back as well, using the assistance to grind into your hand. “He thinks I’m pretty.”

“That's cause are.” He’s lowered his pants now and takes his cock out from under his boxers. Your words make his mouth gape and his eyes close as he begins to stroke himself. “You really are.”

His smile fades as he bites down on his lip lightly. You’re so needy for him and so desperate to admit it. It makes him feel powerful. Almost God-like, despite you both starring as the other’s tempter. So sweet and sinful the sounds you’re making are. How could he not give in? How could he not make you wet for him even at church and stroke his cock as it happens? You’re making it so easy with every whine and little moan you try to withhold. He could hear you getting restless, but he wants to make you want it more, “Keep goin’,” he tells you. “What’s happening now?”

“I put two fingers in,” you whine, “not big enough. Never enough.”

You let your two fingers stay inside you as you press your palm down on your pussy, rubbing your clit with the underside of your hand. You stop for a moment to take off your pants and underwear entirely, discarding it on the floor before you return to your spot. You put one leg up on the bench as you continue to finger yourself.

“I want him so bad.”

“How bad, sweetheart? What would you let him do?”

“Anything, Rick.” You say it louder than you intend, you’re losing yourself. “Anything for him.”

“Anything?”

“Everything.”

After that only nonsense comes out, simple sounds of desire and pleads. It was becoming too much to talk.

Rick felt the same. His hand on his shaft made quick and short movements, his lips parted and pink, more red on the bottom than the top from when bit his lip again at the words anything and everything for him. He repeated it in his mind, listening to your sweet little whines in the present. His head tilts so far back that it bangs on the wooden wall and he hisses.

It reminds him to compose himself.

Even after you let out another moan of his name, and he swears he could almost hear just how wet you are now, the squish of your fingers going in and out, louder and louder.

He swallows hard and takes a breath before he says, “What if I say I want you in here right now?”

That’s when your movements completely stop. You can hear the wind swirling again. You were speechless.

He turns to the netted window. You two can’t see each other but you know he’s looking. “C’mere.” He says slowly. “Now.”

And after that, your body takes control. Swift and instantaneous you move from your door to his, shutting it hard. You don’t even take a moment to look at him, it was too dark anyway, and that’s not what mattered. You’ve already dreamed of his curls, and the pierce of his blue eyes. You knew what he looked like. It’s time to know how he felt.

Rick takes off his shoes and fully lowers and discards his pants. Before he could even consider his shirt, you’re on top of him. You’re kissing his face, your lips and tongue missing his lips by just a little, but it doesn’t matter.

You begin to rock, your wet pussy making the length of his cock and thigh slick before it's even inside of you. You couldn’t help yourself and it makes him laugh, all cocky and proud. Something that you’d cross your arms to, even quip back at in any other situation but right now, it’s so fucking hot.

His hands latch onto your hips, his legs slide back to hit the wall. He raises your frame and you grab him. Your sticky fingers lace around his dick and then you both lower yourself down onto him.

You try to bottom out fast, but his nails dig into you, slowing you down. Your face reaches back with a pout and a whine as he says, “Wait,” even after he’s inside of you.

Your pussy quakes around him. You’re both trying to hold it together, but he’s faring much better than you.

His hand holds your jaw, thumbs caressing your cheeks and a tear falls from your eye, all the sensations becoming too much.

His eyes trail the sight as it rolls down and he tells you, “You’re right. I do think you’re beautiful.”

And he kisses you. Tongue slipping past your lips just as quickly as they depart, going to whisper in your ear: “Go on now,” he smiles, “show me everything.”

You begin to rock against him instantly. Initiating the kiss this time, your tongue slips into his mouth but his goes on top of yours. He grabs the back of your neck, deepening it, and you continue to take charge below as you ride him.

You squeeze around his cock tightly with every movement forward and you hear a strangled groan come out of him as his dick twitches at the sensation.

It makes you moan so loudly, you could wake somebody up.

But it doesn't matter.

You could even come right now just from feeling him inside you for the first time.

And it doesn’t matter.

“I've wanted you for so long, Rick!” You tell him.

He’s all that matters.

“You’ve got me.” He tells you breathlessly, kissing down your neck with his hand tugging on your hair. “You always could’ve.”

Now you know you’re all that matters too.

Your head tilts to the side, eyes closed, and mouth open for each pretty sigh and slight hiss that come out as he bites and kisses.

His hands lower to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it off. You start to undo the buttons on his too.

It’s fast and rushed and messy, but now your chests can meet. You press into him. Your hips are rocking hard. Your clit meets his pelvic bone making you whine and moan again. “Really good,” you say.

Rick’s hands slide to grab your ass, helping you go faster until they rise to your hips again. His thumbs press into the crevice of your hips and legs and he starts to bounce you on him.

You grip onto his arms, assisting him in his efforts. Your eyes are still closed, you’re smiling— already in a state of bliss, yet relishing in the fact that he was pushing you further and further into the dream-like feeling that was to come: your orgasm was close, and the string of airy moans made it evident to you both.

The way his hands move to caress your waist, trail up your back, roll over your arms, and back down again feels like gliding on ice. You felt him everywhere.

“Come on,” he tells you.

“I'm trying, I want to.”

“I know,” he affirms. He takes hold of your upper arms, letting his hands slide down to yours that tightly gripped his biceps and placed them on his shoulders.

You bounce yourself down on him harder, switching it up to rock on him and give your clit attention, then repeat it again.

Once you’re back to bouncing Rick takes one hand on your hip, helping you go faster while the other rubs your clit as vigorously as he can.

Your mouth is open wide, pants and squirms, and pleads coming out wildly. You almost feel like you’re making the whole box jump along with you as you bounce, and bounce, and bounce, and then… there it is: you shout his name and he speaks back to you, you both come together and ride out your high.

A glow emits as you smile, your head crashing into his as you catch your breath.

Then a noise erupts.

The church door closes.

Steps become louder and louder until they reach the open confession box door.

Rick puts his finger to your lips, silently quieting you both. Your eyes are owl wide knowing what the person in the next section would find in there. You almost squirm but Rick slots his finger into your mouth to stop it. “Quiet,” he mouths as the person next to you drops the wet garments they just touched, almost running out of the place as fast as they could.

You lower your face to his shoulder. Embarrassed, you sigh, “What are we gonna do now?”

Rick is unfazed: “Well,” he starts, picking you up by the hips, securing your legs as you wrap them around him, “we could do this one more time.”

He locks the church door and then walks you down the aisle and onto the podium, placing you gently on the ground. He’s standing above you. Just like it all your daydreams.

It was his turn now.

[canihaveacalmtime]

A mafia boss like him never relies on anyone, even his right-hand man. He's the solo wolf in a big pack, the person whose ego is just too much to handle.

Eter always tell himself that he never fails so why is he on the verge of death after an assonate attempt and is being treated by a small child like you?

You are an orphan who happened to get lost during a day out with your teacher, you call her mama, and other kids. Well, you just also happened to stumble upon Eter's injured body in the alley way and decided to help him with the medic kit you have in your bag.

When Eter regain his consciousness fully, he asked if you have a phone that can call. You hand him the phone that mama gave you as he calls his men to come get him. The moment you got your phone back was when you heard your mama calling your name.

"So your name is (Y/N)."

You reply before running out of the alley way.

"Yes, please get better and stay safe, mister."

--------------------------

After everything has calmed down, Eter begins thinking about the new emotions after his encounter with you.

He felt like he was cared with love when you treat his injuries, usually, he would treat his wounds himself because he doesn't want to look weak but after being treated for the first time, his thoughts kind of changed.

Not to mention how fragile but warm your little hands were, you're also very thoughtful too despite your age.

It's not like Eter didn't had a thought of having a child, he's scared that he cannot take up the responsibility of taking care of a child and the life he lives in, he doesn't even sure if his child would survive to say the least.

He also never received love from anyone before, even his birth parents. So raising a child? That's the impossible mission for a mafia boss.

But his courage soon raises up when he meets you again in the coffee shop that he always go to, but you were with your mama this time. The shop was rather vacant at the early morning so as you turn around a saw him, you recognized him immediately and give him a small wave.

Seeing your mama is busy on her phone, you went over to Eter's table to say hi and ask him if he's okay now, he nods. Notice the worker is bringing the food out, you only have time to wave a quick goodbye before helping your mama carry the food bags and leave.

Eter then determined to know everything about you, starting from asking his right-hand man to gather information about you. He just can't help but really feel attached to you despite only met a few times.

Knowing that you're an orphan kind of relief him because now he knows that he can adopt you.

From then on, if you notice your surroundings a little more, you'd notice a kind of feeling that you're being watch. But don't be scared, it's just Eter's men ordered to keep you safe whenever to go outside, and they will report back things that you do along with some pictures to Eter.

The main reason why he can't adopt you yet is because his power isn't wide enough to protect you but when it does, he will immediately come to the orphanage and literally snatch you back to his place.

--------------------------

As a first time parent, his actions might be a bit unprofessional at times but he always make sure that you always have your favourite meals and sleep tight every night.

He would also sometimes watch you sleep or just bluntly sleep with you, you don't complain because who would reject a giant body pillow.

Whenever you came back from school with small bruises or in a sobbing state, just know that the ones that hurt you won't be seen the next day at school.

Some nights, while sleeping beside you, watching your small form sleeping, he thought that what if you grow too fast and when you're an adult, you'd leave him or what if you don't want to rely on him anymore. And guess what, he really did thought about some methods to keep you like this forever but soon shrug it off as his first ever goal when adopting you was to see you grow after all.

Eter also wants your full attention on him whenever he's with you and if anyone dares to stole your attention away, he will give them a deadly glare that they wouldn't want to see it again.

Even though he's a first time dad, he is trying his best. Even a little possessive and protective of you, it's because he loves you so much. To him, you're his light in this dull life, the brush that paint colours into his picture and the reason why he's still going.

Although, don't try to leave him, you wouldn't want to know what's the worst can happen and let me tell you, it's not going to be bright at the least.

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A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night so please don't mind about the mistakes 😭