#like i turn around to refill the second one and then the first one is missing like half its napkins and forks and fucking MUSTARD

[solxamber]

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

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

Second part in the series with Riddle: here.

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

Turns out, really bad.

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

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

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

And then, darkness.

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

"What the…"

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

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

You’re in the book.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Abort. Abort!

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

His gaze became sharper. “About us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But… he was kind? Like, actually caring?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right. The original character was definitely an idiot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. Excuse me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

The air went cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The duel was, in a word, ridiculous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you hated him on sight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost.

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

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

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

You squinted at him. “Mm-hmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. *Excuse me?*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s so… beautiful.

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

Wait…

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

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

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

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

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

Am I falling for him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no.

Cue Epel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not reciting a sonnet, Rook.”

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

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

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

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

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

Then came Operation: Compliment Vil at Every Opportunity.

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

“I’m not saying that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t stop at Neige.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Masterlist

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

[thatone-churro]

one must imagine sisyphus enjoys refilling the condiment stands

[yuuuhiii]

≡ The Weekend

sum: You were only supposed to be a booty call. So why does Rindou find himself wanting more of you?

includes : Rindou Haitani x reader, 5k words, SMUT, fluff, angst, open ending?, fwb, alcohol usage, vulnerable Rindou

other : This fic is inspired by BIBI’s The Weekend! And a little from DEAN’S Die 4 you:) so have fun with that:D this is my first time writing a fic this long so please leave feedback! I’d appreciate it a lot:)

Would it be ironic to say you met Rindou in a club? Or more so, predictable? Or was it bound to happen?

He was the club owner after all, he’d never seen you before. He’s sat in his VIP section with Ran, girls littering the table. Rindou couldn’t care less though as he watched you from his seat. Eyes scanning your form and face.

It seemed you were only here with a friend. You both danced and joked on the dance floor, your guy's drinks sloshing in your hand. He even gets irked when he sees a guy trying to rub up on you but you shove him away. A smirk laces his lips at that, he’s trying to read you.

What your personality was like.

Were you loud and rebellious? Or shy and reserved? He guessed he’d have to find out for himself. With that conclusion he gets up, the girls that were feeling him up whining.

“And where are you off to?” Ran said with a smirk, watching as his little brother dusted himself off.

“Somewhere.” He muttered, eliciting a laugh from his elder brother.

You had made your way to the bar, refilling on a new beverage. He sits next to you and the bartender straightens up, greeting him.

“I’ll pay for her tab,” Rindou says and the bartender nods. You turn to look at him with your eyebrows raised.

“I got it covered. Thanks.” You say with feigning gratitude, sipping your drink. He turns fully towards you with a smirk.

“I’m fully aware you do, I can’t treat you?” He says with his raise of his brows. You narrow your eyes skeptically at him.

“Without even knowing me.” You roll your eyes, somewhat amused. He lets out a chuckle.

“Well then, will you let me get to know you?” You pretend to think over your answer, deciding to tease him more.

“Your way of getting into girl's pants is paying for their tabs? I’m flattered.” You place a hand on your chest, lightly gasping. Rindou is enjoying this, an amused smirk on his face.

“Only yours.” You stare at him for a second then gaze down at your drink.

“Y/n.” You say and he hums, satisfied.

“Rindou.” He holds out his hand, and you look at it and back at him, slowly taking his hand in yours. He stands up abruptly, surprising you.

“Wanna see something?” You blink, and with a hum you let him lead you to where the DJ is.

He waves his free hand the guy is gone. You watch as he messes with the turntables with experience, sipping your drink with a small smile.

“You’re good with your hands.” You say with a bite to your lip and he looks at you over his shoulder.

“This is nothing.” He pulls away and reaches for your hand.

You’re in front of the system as he cages you between it. He takes your drink and places it to the side. His back presses up against your chest, his hands placed over yours. He leans down close to your lips, whispering.

“This okay?”

You were usually one to never wither under a man’s presence. But this one had you weak in the knees. You hum and he smiles, straightening back up. He coaches you through what everything is. What button is what, which switch is which, and even shows you how to scratch.

The whole ‘lesson’ has you sharing laughs and smiles with the latter. He watches you with content as you mess around with the turntables. It was probably terrible for everyone in the club however he couldn’t care less.

“Ok, ok no more.” You giggle and his hands rest on your waist.

The music goes back to the way it was and he slowly moves you to the rhythm. You roll your eyes, engaging in his small act.

“You’re trying awfully hard don’t you think?”

“Huh?” He yells and you slightly push him, marking him snort.

His hand is clasped in yours once again and he leads you around the club, pushing a curtain it reveals a whole other empty club room. Now it was just the two of you, no people or music to interrupt you both.

“So? What were you saying?” He says as he walks over to the bar, pouring himself some whiskey. You sit on the stool, your chin resting on the palm of your hand.

“I said, don’t you think you’re trying too hard?”

“With what?” He says with a lazy grin, sipping his drink.

“You know what Rindou? You try this hard with other girls?” You tilt your head and he bites the inside of his cheek.

“Nah, you’re special.”

“I know.” You smile and he grins.

He walks over to you standing inches away from between your legs. You stare up at him and he’s physically holding himself back from shoving his lips against yours.

“You’re stunning.” He says almost breathlessly and you smile.

“Thanks.” He leans down to peck your lips but your hands shoot up to his face, pecking the corner of his mouth.

“I’m more than just a booty call Rin.” He smiles, his violet eyes boring into yours.

“I’m glad we got that covered.”

Is the last thing he says before he’s smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is feverish and needy. He’s slotting himself between your legs, big hands resting on your waist.

The kiss turns heated fast, his tongue easing into your mouth. You let out a small moan, mostly to egg him on which succeeds when he squeezes your waist. You bite down on his lip and he groans, your hands moving into his hair. He pulls away and starts attacking your neck with bites and kisses. You tug on his hair and another groan leaves him.

“Fucking beautiful.” He says breathlessly, sucking on your collarbone.

Your head leans back in bliss, his hand sliding under your dress. Teasingly, he inches closer to your clothed cunt, causing you to trap his between your thighs.

A loud buzz halts you both. You blink and he groans not out of pleasure but annoyance. He pulls his hand from under your dress, pulling out his phone.

Missed calls and texts pop up from his brother, making him suck his teeth. He rolls his eyes and looks towards you. You’re pouting and he smiles, tugging at your lip.

“I gotta go.” He sighs and your pout deepens.

“Bored already?” You scoff teasingly and he smiles, pecking your lips.

“Never. Let me give you my number. So I can finish what I started.”

When you pull out your phone it displays texts from your friend, saying she had already left. You huff when you stand up and he pushes a strand of hair past your ear.

He kisses you again however this one’s longer, trying to savor your lips against his. He walks you out of the club, standing lazily next to you. He shrugs off his blazer, placing it over your shoulders.

“You got a ride home?” You yawn and let him know you’d just Uber home.

“I’ll pay for it, make sure you get home safe.” He tussles with his hair, and you hum.

His phone rings again and his face is quickly laced with annoyance. As the car pulls up he opens the door for you, making sure you got in carefully.

“Text me?” He says as he closes the door, the window rolling down.

“Desperate?”He laughs and leans down, kissing you again. He nods his head and the car is off.

He sighs once again, walking back into the club. His brother is standing there with a smile on his face.

“Who was she?” He raises his brows and Rindou scoffs.

“A woman.”

“I could see that Rindou, I have eyes. Another plaything?”

“Dunno, we’ll see”

Rindou didn’t mean to not respond to your texts but things at the clubs had been busy. Several events and just having to manage the different locations as well.

Luckily it’s the weekend and he has a certain person he wants to see.

rindou

hey, you home? 10:45 PM

y/n

Oh? You still remember me? 10:50 PM

rindou

very funny. Can I come over? Rather talk to you in person. 10:51 PM

y/n

only if you’ll bring me smth from the convenience store😊 10:51 PM

rindou

mhm, let me know what and send your address. 10:52 PM

y/n

k<3 10:53 PM

Rindou is off to the convenience store, grabbing what you wanted, and a box of condoms. The cashier gives him a smug look but Rindou ignores him, grabbing his stuff and leaving.

From where you are on the couch, you hear knocks on your door. The clock read eleven o’clock. You patter to the door with a small smile, opening the door. Your eyes widen at the sight before you.

Rindou had his round glasses on, a very loose v-shaped shirt and baggy pants, jewelry littering his hands. You guess you’ve been staring for quite some time when Rindou speaks up.

“Am I allowed to come in?” He says with a small smirk and you quickly open the door, letting him walk in.

He walks over to the counter, setting your stuff on the counter. You light up at the snacks and quickly open one of them up.

“So, gonna tell me why I haven’t heard from you?”

“A lot of shit was goin' on with the club, a fuck ton of events and stuff.” He sighs, pushing up his glasses and rubbing his temple. You pause your chewing.

“You’re the owner?” You blink at him and he blinks at you back.

“Uh, yeah?”

He’s a little surprised you didn’t know, given that everyone knew who the Haitanis were. You mumble a small ‘oh’ and he shakes his head in amusement.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” You speak up and he laughs, pushing them up.

“What is it a turnoff?” He quirks a brow and you smile, setting your snack down.

“No, it’s cute.” He cringes, turning away.

“No, it’s not.”

“Too manly to be called cute?” You poke fun at him and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Not a word I’d associate myself with.” You let out a laugh and he finds himself smiling at the sound.

You ask a little bit more about the club and throughout the night Rindou kinda rambles. It’s weird to him honestly, with any other woman he’d come to get things done and leave right after.

But ever since that night he laid his eyes on you, you piqued his interest. He just found himself wanting to know more about you, wanting to be more around you.

“You have a tattoo as well?” You peer up at the deep black ink on his arm and he hums.

“It’s a pretty big piece.”

“Think I’ll be able to see it all tonight?”

You knew what to say to take his breath away. Most of the girls he’d meet were never upfront or held themselves high like you did. They were…easy, but you were the true definition of a woman.

At one point you had brought a couple of beers, the both of you just chatting the night away. You guys had moved to your couch, his arms outspread on the back of the couch with you close to his side. You hum along to his stories, taking a swig of your beer.

“I didn’t know there were still interesting guys left in Roppongi.” He smiles down at you.

“I’m one of a kind sweets.” You roll your eyes at him, placing your beer down.

“You’re so corny.” You laugh, raking a hand through your hair.

Rindou’s eyes rake over you, you were very pretty. He’d seen when you were all dolled up and now when you were natural and bare. Just a tousled T-shirt and short shorts. He’d be lying if those shorts weren’t bothering him the whole night though.

“You’re beautiful.” He almost whispers and you gaze at him with a soft smile.

“You are too.”

Out of the times that you’ve seen him, you finally got him to blush. You feel a sense of pride well up in you, even a little confidence.

You got up from where you were sitting, straddling his lap. His downturned eyes were captivating, you could stare at them all day. While your hands reach up to grab his glasses, his hands rest at the base of your thighs. He watches you intently when you place them on the coffee table. Your hands move up his chest, resting on his neck.

“You gonna finish what you started.” You asked, inches away from his lips. Both of your eyes are lidded and he lazily smiles.

“If you’ll let me.” His hands move to the small of your back and you hum, finally connecting your lips.

It’s slow and sensual not as rushed as it was last time. The both of you take time to experience each other’s mouths. He pulls away though, nipping at your neck.

“They already gone away?” He says lowly and you laugh.

“Well yea it’s been a week dummy.” You feel him smile against your neck, tugging at your shirt.

“S’fine, I’ll just give you more.”

You pull back to pull off your shirt and he’s a little taken aback when you’re not wearing a bra. You cringe a little at the feel of him cupping your breast, the cold metal of his rings making your bud harden.

“Want me to take them off?” You purse your lips and shake your head to which he smiles.

“They’re hot.” His smile widens, leaning closer to your breasts.

“Atta girl.” He pulls a breast into his mouth, sucking and nibbling like he was on your neck.

Your whining and squirming against him, your movements have him hardening underneath you. He pulls off with a pop, his lidded eyes staring up at you.

“Where’s your room.”

“Down the hall to the left.”

In a second he’s lifting you, making you squeal. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing along his jaw. He groans when you suck a spot under his jaw near his ear, making you grin.

“Found it~” He grins, kicking your door open and placing you on your bed. He takes off his shirt throwing it on your floor, he’s moving to kiss you again but your hands against his chest stop him.

“Something wrong?” He pulls back and your hand immediately begins to trace his tattoo.

“Jesus, why is everything about you so hot.” You pout and he lets out a small laugh.

Your hand slowly drags down to his stomach, dragging over his clothed cock. He hisses, pushing you back on the bed. Achingly slow, he pulls down your shorts and panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, do I even need to prep you?” He looks up at you and you shake your head.

“Just fuck me.” You whine and he sighs, taking a condom out of his pocket.

“Are you clean?” You ask and he looks confused.

“Yes? I never fuck without a condom.”

“I’m on the pill.”

“Are you clean?” He retorts back.

“I don’t sleep around.” You cross your arms.

“This your first hookup?”

“That a problem?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“‘Course not.” He shoves the condom back in his pocket, stepping out of his jeans. You blink at his cock when it slaps against his lower abdomen.

“Y-You’re huge.”

“That a problem?” He teases and you scoff.

“‘Course not.” You mimic his voice and he just smirks.

“Keep it up, let’s see how bold you are.”

You bite your tongue when he rubs his tip against your slit. You both moan, his eyes are raking over your body and he’s already panting.

“S-Stop teasing Rin.” You whimper and he groans.

“S-Shit don’t say my name like that.”

He’s inching himself inside you and you kinda regret not getting prepped. Rindou was girthy, it felt like you were getting split in half.

“S’big.” Your legs quiver, he smooths his hands on your thighs, putting your legs on his shoulders. With a thrust, he bottoms out.

“Fuck!” You moan, gripping your bedsheets.

“You’re fucking t-tight.” His brows are creased, trying to calm himself or else he knew he’d blow his load. It gave you a moment to adjust to his size as well. He pressed a peck to your ankle.

“I’m gonna move ok?” You nod, your lips pulled between your teeth.

He almost pulls out, slamming right back into you. He sets a steady rhythm, your bed creaking. Your breathless whines only egg him on.

“Shit baby, so tight and pretty.” He’s losing himself, he can feel it. Your warm pussy has him feeling like a virgin all over again.

“R-Rin please.” You beg you don’t even know what exactly for. Just babbling out whatever comes to your mind, anything you could usher out.

“Please what?” He pants, moving with more force. You clench around him and he stutters.

“Pussy sucking me in.” He groans as he leans down, putting you in a mating press. This new angle has you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back.

“R-Rin.” You moan, your nails dragging along his back. You feel his dick twitch at the act.

“Let go, baby. I got you.” His hand comes down to rub eights on your clit. With a high pitch gasp, you’re coming undone around him.

“Oh shit.” He groans when he feels your walls close around him, even tighter than before. The final blow for him is your hands in his hair tugging but more so your words.

“K-Kiss me Rin.”

With one more harsh thrust, he’s smashing his lips against your lips. His teeth biting down on your bottom lip. His seed explodes and fills you until you’re full of him. You throw your head back already past your limit. He is too but he fucks his nut back into you mindlessly.

Afterwards, he’s falling against you, your guy's ragged breath mirroring one another’s. He moved to your side, you cringed at the feeling of him pulling out.

“You ok?” He rasps, looking down at you. You nod, scooting up your bed, and resting your head against the pillow.

“Haven’t been fucked that good in a while.” You lazily smile and he shakes his head, a grin on his face. You scoot closer to him, your hand tracing the curves and swoops of his tattoo.

“M’tired.” You blink, eyes slowly falling shut.

Before fully giving into your slumber, you reach for his hand. His eyes widen, looking at your sleeping form. His heart is beating at an abnormal speed but he blames it on the sex, that he hasn’t calmed down. However he knows he should leave but he turns on his side, facing you.

“I don’t think I’m good for you.” He mumbles, letting himself to succumb to slumber as well.

When you wake up your bed is cold and empty, your heart pangs but you somehow have a little hope. You get up and put on a shirt and some panties.

“Rin.” You call out as you walk through your apartment.

Cold.

Empty.

You sigh, turning to open your refrigerator. At the same moment your door swings open. You gasp, turning to the door and it’s Rindou with bags in his hand.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper and he blinks.

“Ouch, went to get you breakfast.” He sets the bag down. You shake your head, walking towards him.

“That’s not what I meant sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to come back.” You look down and he gazes longingly at you, you don’t catch this though.

“Well I’m here.” He mumbles, pulling out the food.

After that morning Rindou kept in contact with you, he’d invite you out here and there to eat or back to the club with him. You didn’t want to admit but your found yourself falling for the guy.

The way he’d treat you, look at you, talk to you. You loved the way he made you feel and the way you felt around him. You admired him as a man as well, how he was confident and had a good business going, the way he held himself. It was honestly all you’ve wanted in a guy.

However one day something changed. You were probably overthinking, he said it was work. You wanted to believe him and you wanted to-

You guys weren’t even dating.

No label was put on you both, you were just seeing each other with the side of fucking. You sigh, this was why you took a break from dating. The headaches and anxiety it gave you. The fear of the unknown or what could’ve been.

You never liked it.

You sat on your couch, your tv playing as background noise for your raging thoughts. When you look down, Rindou’s glasses were on the table. You blink at them and move to grab them. You hold them in your hands, smiling at the memory of how cute he looked when he wore them. Then an idea popped into your head.

Why don’t you go visit him at work?

With a newfound mission, you rise with the intent of returning his glasses and seeing him as well.

You walk into the club, the music already blasting and people littered everywhere. You honestly weren’t one for clubbing but your friend had begged you that night. You’d have to thank her later because if she hadn’t begged you to come, you never would’ve met Rindou.

You walked around the place for a bit and weren’t able to find him.

Maybe he wasn’t working today?

You click your teeth, might as well have one drink since you were here.

And so you did.

Just when you’re about to leave, you hear cheering from the corner of the room. Upon looking it was a booth. You peak over a bit and see a glimpse of Rindou. A smile rises to your face and you start walking towards him.

That’s until you see a girl come into view, glued to his side and feeling him up. You watch him and he leans into her smiling, at the woman. You gulp and your stomach churns.

Then they kiss, a kiss was an understatement, they were sucking each other's faces off. You quickly turn away and make your way straight to the bar again.

Without your knowing, someone watched the whole ordeal, with amused eyes and a shake of his head he got up. Leaning towards Rindou, he speaks.

“Someone’s in big trouble.” He says with a grin, walking away.

“What’d you say!” Rindou yells back, his words slurred, the girl next to him whined, pulling him into another kiss.

Your heart was beating unhealthily well and your ears were ringing.

“Hello.” You hear from beside you and you look up.

You’re shocked to see a man that resembles almost exactly Rindou. However, his hair was way shorter and combed, and dyed as well. You don’t reply, turning back to your drink.

“I know who those belong to.” He nods his head at your hand. Rindou’s glasses.

“You do? Well then tell him he can have them back.” You slide them towards him, and the man grins.

“I know of you, Rindou wouldn’t shut up about you.”

Your brow twitches.

“Who are you exactly?” You say with attitude.

“Rindou’s older brother, Ran.” He holds out his hand, and you roll your eyes and shake his hand.

“Why’re you so upset?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Oh, but I do.” He laughs. “I guess I’m just a little confused because Rindou never mentioned dating you.”

“We’re not.”

That’s right.

You weren’t.

So why are you so upset? Why are you even here?

No other words needed to be said or at least you didn’t want to hear anything else so you paid for your tab and left the club.

A little later when the women had finally left Rindou he’s a little more sober, just a little. Ran mentions his little surprise.

“Guess who happened to stop by.” Rindou looks at him bored.

“Who.”

“One of your girls.” He grins, sipping his drink.

“And she wasn’t happy. Oh, she wanted me to return these.” Ran slides his glasses across the table.

Rindou looks at them for a minute, letting his brain proceed with all of the information. Until he’s shooting up.

“Fuck!” He yells, running out of the club.

“Young love.” Ran laughs, raising his glass to no one in particular.

Rindou should not be driving. His head is throbbing and he’s gripping his steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. He ran to many red lights just to get to your apartment. When he reaches it, he doesn’t even park right, he runs up the flight of stairs to the best of his abilities. The alcohol made his heart feel like it was gonna burst off his chest.

When he reaches your door he isn’t knocking but banging. Probably alerting some neighbors. He’s about to knock again but the door flies open revealing you. Your hair is a mess and you’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, your face a little puffy.

“Rindou?” You groggily say.

Fuck.

He wanted to kiss you so bad, you were too fucking cute.

You sigh, fully awake but irritated. “It’s too late for this. Go home.” You say, shutting the door but he stops it.

“Please, let me in.” You open the door and he wobbles in.

“You reek of fucking alcohol.” You cringe, moving to grab water.

You pour a glass for the both of you. His heart hasn’t calmed down, it’s ringing through his ears.

“Drink.” You coldly say and his heart cracks at the sound of your voice.

“I’m going back to bed.” You turn around.

“Wait!” He rushes, grabbing your wrist.

“Why are you even here Rindou.”

“Stop calling me that.” He looks down ashamed.

“Isn’t that your name?” You cross your arms and he’s chewing on his lips.

“My brother told me what happened.” He mumbles.

“Exactly. So why are you here.” You blink.

“Because I-”

“We’re not dating Rindou. I don’t care what you do.”

“Just let me talk!” He raises his voice but you stand there with no emotion.

“Say what you need to say then.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

You sigh, growing irritated. “There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.”

“But there is! You know there is. For once just, be vulnerable with me.” He sighs.

“Be vulnerable with you? I haven’t? So what do you think of all the times you’ve come over, and taken me out? That wasn’t me being vulnerable?” You scoff out of amusement and shock.

“If you’re just planning on using me then this is the last time we see each other.”

It’s quiet.

To quiet for Rindou.

Usually, your TV is on because you hate when your house is quiet.

All he wants to do is hold you.

“I’m not a good person.” He begins. “But you make me feel good. I like the way you make me feel. I know I fucked up. I know we’re not dating but you deserve an apology because I—do like you and I want something with you. But I just was drinking and.” He sighs again, rubbing his face.

“How am I supposed to trust you if you’re like this and we’re not even dating.” You whisper.

“Can we talk in the morning? I’m not sober.” He murmurs.

You don’t say anything but let him follow you to your room. You get under the covers and he removes his suit, leaving him in his boxers. Your back is faced towards him. He slides under the covers and immediately pulls you against his chest. You stare emotionless at your wall and then you feel it.

Wet droplets against your shoulder.

He was crying.

You bite your lip but do your best to fall asleep. Letting him sob as he held you as if this was the last time he’d ever get to hold you.

Rindou woke up with a groan, holding his head as he sat up.

“Where the fuck am I?” He whispers to himself, his eyes going around the room.

It’s your room.

Slowly, glimpses of last night come to his mind and he freezes.

“Fuck.” He lets out, throwing your covers over him and walking over to your kitchen.

There you are, cooking, humming to the music you’re playing. A smile rises to his face and you turn, halting your movements.

“Morning.” You mumble. Turning back to the stove. “There’s coffee if you want.”

“You need help?” He picks at his hand.

“No, it’s fine.” He gulps, moving to sit down at the table.

He watched as you finished up, bringing his plate to him. He watches you as you eat, not even picking at his food.

“Stop staring.” You mumble and his head shoots down.

“Sorry.”

This wasn’t like him and even though you know you guys have to talk. You hated how things were right now. Would they even go back to how they were before?

“Do you like me?” Rindou asks, cracking the ice that was building up between the both of you.

You sigh, placing your fork down. “Obviously. I just don’t…trust you.”

“Is there any way you can again?” You look up at him to find he’s already staring at you.

“What do you want from me Rin.” You look tired and he hates himself for doing this to you.

“I want you. I’ll do anything to prove it, we can start over.” He pleads.

“Fucking me isn’t gonna be enough.” You quirk a brow and he shakes his head.

“I don’t care about that, I’ll prove to you that I’m all you need.” He gets up standing next to you.

You gaze up at him and he opens his arms. Slowly but surely, you rise to your feet, wrapping your arms around him.

He’s warm and at that moment that ice crumbled and melted when he held you tightly against him.

It would take time and you know he knows he’s gonna have to bust his ass because that’s what you deserve.

You deserve so much more and he’d do anything he could to prove himself to you.

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[pearlywritings]

'Mom' to his 'Dad'

synopsis: just a collective bulleted drabble of all the thoughts I had about raising Yanqing together with Jing Yuan (yet somehow not being married (yet))

pairing: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

tw: fluff, domestic fluff, modern AU, CEO!Jing Yuan (because why not), dad!Jing Yuan, adopted son!Yanqing, from co-parenting to dating, from friends to lovers

word count: 1.8k+ words

CEO!Jing Yuan who looks hella fine in any clothes, but especially good in gray and carmine red suits. Who absolutely hates wearing ties, but has zero complaint when you, after staying the night before, wrap one around his neck. He feels soft when you lecture him, but in the end say he looks good, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, making sure his appearance is intact before turning around and hurrying to check on Yanqing’s preparations for school.

CEO!Jing Yuan who is a great leader, a nice boss and obviously a great catch, but who also hasn’t shown any interest in any suitor who’s attempted to woo him in the last decade. And he is 33 already. There have been many gossips swirling in the company, most potent about you and him, rumored to be in a secret relationship and raising a kid together. Well… they are not wrong on the second part.

CEO!Jing Yuan who after the passing of his two friends took their eight-year old son under his wing. Who had never dealt with children, especially this young, but who was lucky enough to have you - a dear friend since university, now a coworker, understanding and compassionate enough to leave your house at 3am to drive all the way to his residence after just one frantic call.

CEO!Jing Yuan who will never forget that night - you, running into the house after he let you in, with hair still messy and clearly first clothes you dug from the closet thrown on you. You looked like a cute ruffled sparrow, which quickly transformed into a mother hen when he better explained his troubles about a little kid - now his adopted son - and how he couldn’t get him to fall asleep at the new place. You too didn’t know much about handling children, but you were willing to try and the white-haired man couldn’t ask for more. Both called off work the next day.

CEO!Jing Yuan who since then has a room in his house that belongs to you - over the years it got filled with your personal things, redesigned (twice!) to your tastes, and has been occupied over the years for almost half of each passing week.

CEO!Jing Yuan who adores Yanqing - the boy proved to be feisty, but at the same time he was very sweet and nice to have around. Jing Yuan didn’t think twice about adopting the little guy the moment he learnt of his friends’ passing, turning from a godfather to just a father. He, obviously, didn’t force Yanqing to call him dad, making up his mind that even if it never happens - it’s totally fine. Due to the age the boy could understand why his parents weren’t there and Jing Yuan was making all he could to give him a good life, a normal life. He was so lucky that you tugged along.

CEO!Jing Yuan who almost cried when Yanqing absentmindedly called him ‘dad’. The ten-year old didn’t even notice it, but to the man it meant the world. He spammed you with messages, all in caps and with weeping emojis, and felt his heart about to combust when you sent him a response full of excitement, congratulating him. And then messaged about how you wished to hear the boy call him dad the next time you were around. Damn, he wished so too.

CEO!Jing Yuan, who loves having you around. He melts when he returns to the living room after going to refill the snack bowl only to see Yanqing cuddled closely to you, staring at the screen with his head tucked under your chin. His lips tug into a wide smile when the boy asks you if you can be the one to get him from school tomorrow instead of Jing Yuan’s personal driver (and you always say ‘yes’, even if it means you’ll sacrifice your lunch break). A pleasant shiver runs down both his and the boy’s backs when you walk into Yanqing’s room to check on the two doing homework and gently scratch their heads. Jing Yuan loves the domestic life the two of you created.

CEO!Jing Yuan, who encouraged his son when a couple of years later he wondered if it’s okay if he started calling you ‘mom’. The man told him to approach you the next time you were staying over and ask your opinion on the matter. Which the boy did, shyly reaching out for your hand and when you gave it to him with a smile, dropped a bomb. Jing Yuan remembers the slight hesitation flashing in your eyes, how you lifted him and got him into your lap to be on the same eye level with him.

“Baby, are you sure?”

“Mhm. You’ve always been there. You raise me. And I really love you and want you to be my mom.”

“Even if I am not your father’s wife?”

“Maybe you should become her? But either way, yes.”

CEO!Jing Yuan who now can’t get the boy’s words out of his head. Yanqing is right - you’ve always been there. For them both. His, no, your son is thirteen now - meaning that for five years you’ve helped your friend raise the boy - you were not obligated to be there for his special events, you weren’t paid to take days off and sit with him when he was sick, no one asked you to kiss his forehead and tuck him into bed, there were no rules that said that you have to share his hobbies… Yet, you did. Always. And the man has always been very aware of that, but only his son’s words seem to open his eyes - both of you are his parents. Maybe it’s a shame you are not spouses.

CEO!Jing Yuan who feels kind of bad - you’ve spent 5 years of your life being a family to Yanqing and, admittedly, the man himself. You’ve given up searching for a partner, starting a family of your own just to make sure that the kid who has no relation to you grows healthy and happy. He can’t help but love and appreciate you.

CEO!Jing Yuan who finds out that you’ve been having similar thoughts about him after that conversation with your son. He really didn’t mean to overhear, he just wanted to drop by your office at the beginning of the break and offer to go get lunch together, only to stop at the mention of his name that passed through the door. Apparently, you sought advice from Yukong - the head of the logistics department, a fellow mother and one of the few who knew what your family dynamic was really like. You are concerned that you took the place that wasn’t meant to you - you worry that Yanqing got attached to you so strongly that should Jing Yuan start seeing someone, the boy would be too stubborn to accept.

CEO!Jing Yuan, whose heart skips a beat, when the teal-haired woman asks you, why you are not entertaining the possibility that you can be the one the man seeks a relationship with. The same heart drops into his stomach when you sigh and tell her of him never showing interest. Things seem platonic to you. Well, not to your coworkers, it appears.

CEO!Jing Yuan and you, who freeze in your seats, when at the end of the meeting a new secretary of the man asks if ‘Mrs Jing will also attend the event’ hosted by one of the company’s biggest clients. Confused, you look at your friend, who's equally stunned (but secretly, realizing what kind of mistake it is, fights back a tiny spark of delight). It turns out that the secretary thought the two of you were husband and wife and for that reason gave you the man’s last name. If it’s not the sign, then what is?

CEO!Jing Yuan who goes clothes shopping with you - because you both indeed are going to be at the event and the man insists the two of you buy something matching. When you ask why, he slyly smiles and promises that it’s his way of ‘showing interest’. At first you don’t get it. But when your cheeks heat up he knows the message is clear to you. You do call him a scoundrel and he heartily laughs at that, but you still reach out to his hand and he readily interlocks your fingers.

CEO!Jing Yuan who notices you getting flirtier, one time in particular not leaving his mind. He was comfortably sitting on the sofa, having everything he needed to push through the last bits of work he had decided to take home (‘everything’ being just his laptop and a mug of steaming tea). That’s when you approached him from the back, laying your palms on top of his shoulders, gently kneading the tense muscles, working a low appreciative grunt out of his throat.

“Yuan?”

“Mmm?”

“You look stressed,” fingers dug a little rougher into his flesh and the man groaned, shoulder flinching. Only for his whole body to go rigid when your voice fanned right against his ear, ”I know how to fix it.”

And then you innocently proposed to go to the gym together once he’d be done. Honestly? For a stunt like that Jing Yuan wanted to bite you.

CEO!Jing Yuan who does get his teeth onto you as you are trying to escape the trap of his arms after waking up from the cute cuddling session with Yanqing. Only for the boy to be gone upon your awakening (and you hear some shuffling in the kitchen) and a very hot man - your friend? boss?? unofficial-but-everyone-thinks-you-are-together lover??? - pressing your back into his chest with arms firmly circling your waist. When you attempt to move away, he suddenly surges forward and clamps his mouth onto the exposed juncture between your neck and shoulder. And nibbles.

“Jing Yuan!”

“Hufshf,” he mumbles into your skin, before releasing it and burying his face into your neck. “Don’t shout, you’ll alert Yanqing, and I want some more time with you.”

“...why?”

“Why?” He muses, and you feel a smile pressed to the back of your neck. “Because I think we’d make great as a couple.”

CEO!Jing Yuan who comes to an agreement with you that for the longest time it felt like the two of you were indeed a married couple. You share a place, you do most domestic things together, you go to places together, you raise a son together. And together you come to a conclusion that courting is due.

CEO!Jing Yuan who absolutely shares Yanqing’s sweet anticipation for when you will be able to legally adopt him. Which means - marrying his father (just let this man put a ring on your finger already).

[wandanatsgf]

Sugar, Sugar Part 3

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: The three of you officially sign the contract and now you're their sugar baby

Warnings: this contains daddy kink, mommy kink, threesomes, dom/sub dynamic, face sitting, edging, praise, bondage, strap on fucking, other things I’m sure I’m forgetting

Author's Note: I know this is starting out kinda slow paced but it will be picking up soon! Also ignore any mistakes in this. I didn't proof read it because I'm too tired to. Anyway enjoy!

Part 1 Part 2

Harsh evening light is hitting your face, waking you up.

The first thing you notice when you wake up his how soft the bed is. It's certainly softer than anything you've ever known. The second thing you notice is the two women on either side of you. They lay there peacefully, the three of you intertwined together. Flashbacks to a few hours ago run through your mind, making you blush. You were never the type to sleep with someone so easily, but with them everything was different. It didn’t matter that you barely knew the two women.

Wanda starts to stir, averting your attention from your thoughts to her.

"Hi," you say.

"Hi baby," she says, sleepiness lacing her voice. "How are you feeling?"

"A little tired, but I'm good." You go to scooch away from Wanda, now suddenly aware of just how close the two of you are, when she pulls you back.

"Don't leave honey," she whispers to you. "You're so warm, it's a nice change from Natalia. That woman is like an icebox," she says making you laugh.

"No I'm not, you're just always cold," Natasha grumbles, now awake.

“Aww I’m sorry baby did we wake you?” Wanda's voice is laced with mock apology.

“You know you did,” Natasha says, her piercing glare directed at Wanda. “But I’m glad because now I get to spend my morning with this beautiful little thing.” Natasha moves around in the bed until she is facing you. Her hand finds it’s way to your chin, a subtle act of dominance that sends heat straight to your core. She leans in and captures your lips with hers. It’s slow and passionate and makes you melt against her. Natasha’s hand slips between the two of you, running down your front and she almost slips it into the shorts you’re wearing when Wanda stops her.

“Hold on you two before we do anything else we need to get the contract printed and signed.”

Both you and Natasha groan in unison.

“Do we have to,” you whine out.

“Yes we do baby. It’s for your safety and ours. We’ve gotta do it.”

“Okay fine,” you grumble, but allow Wanda to pull you out of bed. Natasha follows closely behind. Wanda leads you to the room you had been in yesterday, where she turns on her computer and starts printing off the contract that one of them had somehow had the time to make. In no time the three of you sign it, officially beginning your time as their sugar baby.

"Now where were we," Natasha says. She steps towards you, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other grabbing you and pulling you to her. She kisses you hard and deeply, causing you to give in to her. You're pliable to her will, willing to let her do whatever she wants to you.

"Please," you beg once the two of you finally pull apart.

"What do you want detka? Be a good girl and use your words," Wanda taunts. She's sitting in a chair, watching all of this go down.

"Come on tell us what you want milyy, or else we'll give you nothing," Natasha says.

"I want one of you to fuck me please," you beg.

"Good girl," Natasha says. She picks you up, wrapping your legs around her waist and take you back to their room. She lays you down on the bed, pulling your clothes off. You lie there naked as she towers over you fully clothed.

"Wanda?" Natasha asks.

"Can you grab the red strap and some rope?"

"Already on it." You can hear Wanda inside their closet, refiling through it, trying to find the things Natasha asked for.

"Remember if you need to stop call out red okay?" Natasha says, checking in on you.

"Ok if I need to stop I will."

"That's my good girl." Natasha climbs on top of you and gently kisses you, but breaks the two of you apart when Wanda comes back in the room.

You let out a whine, wanting her lips back on yours. However Wanda is quick to correct you.

"Don't whine unless you want us to give you something to whine about malysh."

"I'm sorry mommy."

"Good girl that's better. Now put your arms up against the headboard and your legs spread out." You do as you're asked and the two women work together to tie you up. They have you securely restrained in no time.

Wanda walks over to you and leans down while Natasha strips and puts the strap on on. She turns your face to her with one hand, her touch is tender.

“Daddy is going to play with you a little bit and then she’s gonna fuck you while mommy rides your face ok?” Wanda’s tone is gentle and her voice is soft as she speaks to you. It makes the dirty words that just came out of her mouth that much hotter to you.

“Ok mommy,” you say. You try to clench your thighs together, wanting to relieve the ache that is forming, but with your legs tied apart you can’t.

“Aww is someone feeling a little needy?” Natasha asks. You hadn’t even realized she had finished putting the harness on. But now she is standing in front of you, the strap on swinging between her legs. She looks heavenly, you think.

“Please daddy,” you beg.

“What do you want detka?”

“Daddy please touch me.” You start to wiggle a bit, once again trying to relieve the ache, but it does nothing more than make Natasha laugh at how pathetic you look.

“Is this where you want me to touch you detka?” Natasha’s hand ghosts over your inner thigh, so close yet too far away from where you really need her.

“No daddy. Higher please.”

“Right here?” Natasha’s hand caresses your stomach, teasing you.

“Please touch my pussy daddy,” you finally cry out, frustrated from Natasha’s teasing.

“Good girl,” Natasha says. She lays down on her stomach, her face right up against your pussy. She uses her right hand to hold your hips down, while her thumb plays with your clit.

“Oh god,” you loudly moan out.

“Does daddy playing with your pussy feel good?” Wanda asks. She reaches a hand down to pull at your tits, your back arching off the bed as she does.

“It feels really good mommy,” you manage to say in between moans.

Natasha continues her assault on your pussy while Wanda assaults your chest. The two of them together are sending your brain into overdrive. The only thing you can think about is your impending orgasm and how good being touched by then feels.

“Please let me cum,” you beg. You’re not sure which one you’re begging to, they’re both making you feel good.

“Should we let our little princess cum Nat?”

“I think if she wants to cum she should do it on my strap,” Natasha says, pulling away from you. That action elicits a high pitched whine to escape your mouth, upset that you were so close and your orgasm was taken from you.

“Don’t whine detka, you’ll be back feeling good in a minute,” Natasha reassures you. Natasha positions herself, but doesn’t push into you yet, knowing Wanda wants to check in with you.

“I’m going to ride your face now ok? And Nat is going to fuck you. We’re going to let you adjust so tell us when we can move. If it gets to be too much and you can’t talk tap my thigh three times ok?” Wanda says, making sure you’re alright with everything that’s about to happen.

“Ok mommy.”

“Good girl,” Wanda says. She removes her skirt and underwear and straddles your face.

“Come on stick your tongue out. Let mommy ride your pretty little face.” You stick your tongue out just like Wanda asked you to, and she slowly sinks down onto your face, letting you adjust to the feeling.

“You both can move now,” you tell the two women. Once you do, Natasha starts fucking into you at a brutal pace. Your moans are constant, but they’re muffled by Wanda’s pussy in your face.

“You’re doing so good detka,” Wanda praises, chasing her own high. She grinds down onto your tongue, moans escaping her mouth.

“You’re so pretty when you’re taking my cock princess,” Natasha groans out. Her thrusts become faster and faster, pushing you closer and closer to release.

You moan out loudly, trying to ask permission to cum, but all that comes out is moans.

"You gonna cum baby?" Natasha asks, her voice a little breathless.

You moan, which Natasha takes as yes. Wanda's movements start to become erratic above you, a telltale sign that she's about to cum.

"Be a good girl and cum for daddy detka," Natasha says. The second she says that you cum all over her strap and Wanda cums all over your face and mouth. You happily lick it all up, savoring the taste of her.

"You're such a good girl princess," Wanda says as she climbs off of you. Natasha slips out of your pussy and the two women quickly untie you. Wanda walks back into the coset and returns with some sort of cream that the two women apply to your wrists and ankles, easing the burning feeling.

"You did so good for us, how are you feeling milyy?" Natasha asks once the two women had finished applying the cream. Wanda sets the cream on the nightstand and both women climb into bed with you.

"good but a little sleepy," you answer. You're clinging to both women, wanting to be as close to them as possible.

"Do you need a nap honey?" Wanda asks. You nod your head yes. The two women position themselves so that you're sandwiched between the two of them. It's a warm and comfortable feeling. The two women whisper soft praises to you until you fall into a gentle sleep. When you wake, you're still sandwiched between the two women.

"You feeling better darling?" Natasha asks.

"Yeah I feel a lot better." You sit up and look around. It doesn't look like you were out for long.

"There's something we want to talk to you about honey," Wanda says once you're more alert and awake. "we want to take you out tomorrow is that okay?"

“I’d really like that," you say, a blush making its way across your face at the idea of going out with these two beautiful women.

“is seven ok detka?” This time Natasha speaks.

“Yes that works for me,” you say, your voice full of exhaustion.

“We’ll pick you up. Just send us your address later when you’re not so tired ok?”

“I will.”

The three of you spend the next couple of hours talking and eating dinner. You're happy to get to know these two women better. But eventually you have to leave and go back home. Nat and Wanda escort you out of their house, making sure to give you a kiss goodbye. The whole way back to your apartment you’re freaking out. You can’t believe how lucky you are. That you get to sleep with two of the hottest women on the planet plus you get paid for it.

Soon enough you’re opening the door to your apartment.

"Oh my god Katie," you loudly exclaim as you walk in.

"I've never been so attracted to two people in my life. They're just so fucking hot."

"I bet it helps that they're fucking loaded," Kate jests.

"Yeah," you say blushing. "But that's not the only thing I like about them," you say defending the two women. "They're so kind and sweet. I've never met someone that I've connected with like I do with the two of them."

"Oh yeah I bet you do connect with them," Kate says, with a wink, making her innuendo more obvious.

"Katie," you whine.

"Wait I was just joking, you've slept with them already?" Shock laces her voice.

"Yeah," you say sheepishly. "I didn't plan on it, but they were just so hot. I never sleep with people that quickly but they're just so great and y’know they seem pretty caring and sweet," you say, going on and on about the two women.

"Wow, sounds like someone's a little smitten."

Kate's words bring a blush to your cheeks, but you're quick to correct her. "I'm not smitten Katie. I just like sleeping with them and the money," you say, but even as you say it, you're not sure that you completely believe it. The way those two women make you feel is unbelievable and overwhelming, but you’re choosing to ignore that for now.

"Anyway I need to go to bed, I'm exhausted," you tell your best friend.

"I bet it's exhausting keeping up with two super hot women," Kate says teasing you once again.

“Whatever Katie. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she says back.

That night you lay in bed, wondering what tomorrows date (for lack of better words) will hold. Eventually you fall to sleep, excited for what tomorrow holds.

taglist (so sorry if I forget to tag anyone): @dorabledewdroop @sokovianbaby @beakami @jono723 @godhatesgoodgirls @imaginaryblogger01 @alexawynters @marvelwomen-simp @tobiaslut

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sleep II

Katrina Gorry x Teen!Reader

Summary: You forget your medication

The first and only warning flag that Mini needed was you and Kyra pulling pranks.

You'd always been a bit easily influenced by the older girls but you usually didn't get involved with pranks unless you hadn't done one thing that was meant to be second nature at this point.

So, as Mini watches you run your laps as punishment, she sighs.

"She's off her meds," She says in explanation to Charli, who is sitting nearby.

"Huh?"

"Her adhd meds," Mini elaborates as she watches Kyra try to trip you. You just barely keep your balance and immediately try to get revenge by shoving her over.

"Is she allowed to be off them?"

"I mean, technically, yes. It doesn't really matter if she misses a few doses but I don't think she's taken any this entire camp." Mini sighs as she stands, stretching out her leg before grabbing you by the back of the shirt as you jog past.

"Hey!" You complain," I still have two more!"

"Nope. Back to your room, please." She keeps her orders short so you can follow along. "Go straight in and shower. I'll be up to see you shortly."

"But-"

"Into your room," Mini insists," And shower. I will up soon."

"Fine."

You'd grown accustomed to listening to Katrina's orders. As soon as you came to live with her and Clara, you'd been put into a routine that you hadn't ever had before.

Your parents were always working and rarely home. You'd grown used to doing what you wanted, when you wanted. You hadn't even had a bedtime before moving into Mini's house and it came as a shock to you when she began to enforce one.

It had been extended a little during camp but not by too much and you were usually in bed way before anyone else in the team. It was a little annoying and everyone teased you but you didn't mind.

You didn't really cling to your routines as much at camp and really, that should have been the other sign that told Mini what she needed to know.

She's not at all surprised when she sees you lounging on your bed on your phone with no indication that you had even thought about showering.

"Shower," She says to you," Go on. In the shower."

You nod. "Yeah. Just one sec-"

"No," She insists," Now."

"But-"

"You need to shower before dinner. You know this. If you don't do this now then you won't do it later."

You frown. "I thought you wanted to talk to me."

"I do," Mini says plainly," But you need to shower first." She jerks her chin to the bathroom. "Go on. Wash you hair too."

You make a face. "I don't like wet hair."

"We've got plenty of time before dinner. Wash you hair and I'll dry it for you."

"But-"

She gives you a pointed look and you nod, shuffling into the bathroom with a towel and a change of clothes.

Mini waits briefly before relaxing when she hears the shower start running, digging around in your drawers for where you've stashed your hairdryer. You swear that you always know where it is despite it always being in a different place when Mini looks so after several minutes of searching, she manages to find it and plug it in.

It takes a while for you to return but when you do, you sit in front of her as she blow dries your hair, brushing it through once it's all dry.

"So," Mini says finally," You haven't been taking your medication."

"That's scary," You reply," Do you just know everything?"

Mini laughs. "It's the mum instincts but, really. What's up with that? Did you forget to grab a refill before we left?"

Usually Clara is the one to take you to refill your prescription but she had been busy during the week before camp and you hadn't really thought about it until a few days before.

You shrug.

"Camp isn't that long," You explain," I didn't think it would matter."

"You don't have to take your medication if you don't want to. We can find alternatives," Mini says with a hum as she pulls the brush through your hair again," Do you want to come off your medication?"

"No." You shake your head, turning it so you can look back at her. "I just forgot. Promise. It won't happen again."

Mini searches your face for a lie but it's clear to her that you're being truthful.

"Okay," She says," But stick close to me this time. I don't want Kyra being a bad influence.

"Why not?" You whine.

She grins at you. "Because you're entirely too susceptible to joining her schemes."

[dsybouquet]

braindead about ceo! ellie who goes out with her managers for drinks after a day in the office. the first buttons of her white shirt open and the rest of her suit a bit losely, letting go of the work environment to enjoy herself.

after a drink, she notices you behind the counter, serving people, mixing drinks. something about you was so mesmerising.. she just couldn’t look away.

slowly she excused herself from her colleagues and walked over to the point of the counter where you were polishing glasses. she placed her glass on the counter, resting her arm next to it.

“mind refilling?”

she asked, causing you to look up and face her. a smirk painted on her lips as her green eyes met yours in the dimmed light of the bar.

“sure!”

you answered as kind as ever, smiling at the woman in front of you. you turned around to reach the liquor shelf, taking the whiskey down. ellies eyes fell on your short skirt, which in the front was covered by your apron.

you refilled her glass, asking if she needs anything else.

“what’s a girl like you doing in a bar like this?”

her tattooed hand reaching for the glass of whiskey in front of her.

“trying to keep her head above the water while going to university.”

you laughed, throwing a dish towel over your shoulder.

“and what’s a woman like you doing here?”

ellies smirk got wider, she loved the attitude. and you loved the fact that you knew you’d get good tips from that.

“university? what are you studying?”

“psychology”

you smiled, leaning against the counter. you push a strand of hair behind your ear and took a sip from your bottle. ellie hardly met someone who could hold eye contact as well as you can, shes almost the one wanting to look away.

“a pretty psychology student working in a bar like this? this is not up your alley.”

her voice was quiet, but loud enough for you to hear.

“i have to get by somehow. and after all, the pay is good, the tips even better.”

oh ellie could see why you get tipped well. engaging in conversations, having the pretty privilege and being smart too.

“excuse me for a second.”

you said, walking over to serve one of your regulars his usual beer, having a quick chit chat while doing so. ellie didn’t like how the man looked at you. lust drunken eyes while drinking his beer.

of course, you just looked too good, you were so kind too. she watched while you talked to him, analysing your posture. as a psychology student, you for sure knew how to talk and present yourself to the different people on front of you.

when you turned to face her again, you caught her staring. you smiled, thinking to yourself how an woman this attractive was so intrigued by you.

you eyed her. her tattooed hand, from which you wondered how far up her arm the tattoo was going. the suit and the - by now - unorganised shirt underneath. the way too expensive watch and rings. her eyes and freckles and the auburn hair, which was halfway put in a loose bun.

she was oddly beautiful.

“sorry, had to serve a local.”

you smiled, leaning back over the counter to talk to ellie.

“What’s your name, dear?”

the way she asked for your name made your knees weak.

“______. What’s yours?”

“Ellie.”

you kept the conversation going until you had to close the bar. in between you served your locals, you served new clients but you always returned to ellie. there was just something about her. something so special that you didn’t even question why you were talking to her all night long in between running around.

tired as the clock strikes 4 am, you printed her bill, still smiling and talking with the woman so amazing that your psychology brain couldn’t handle it.

“alright, here’s your bill! we’re closing.”

you put it in front of her, smiling slightly before you turned around to put some glasses in the drawer.

when you looked back to where ellie was, she was gone. only leaving a 200$ note on the plate with the bill and her number written with a pen - text me xx written behind it.

part 2 is out now !! find it right here !

[violetarks]

fooled around and fell in love!

anime: ouran high school host club

characters: fujioka haruhi, suoh tamaki, ootori kyoya

summary: you have enough charm to make even a host fall for you! why haven't you joined the club yet?

a/n: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, second person pov, reader isn't necessarily in love with them, they're just unintentionally getting the others to fall for them, but it can be read however you would like

↣ fujioka haruhi:

being the little plaything for the host club was not fun at all for haruhi. she would literally rather do anything else than this.

carrying four bags of food for the hosts, haruhi groans in frustration, "stupid rich people... why do they have to drink so many different brands of coffee?" she reaches into one bag, pulling out an order for hikaru. "he doesn't even like the ingredients in this. he just wanted me to say that long order for no reason..."

people watched the student struggle down the hall towards the host club room. haruhi felt a bit annoyed; didn't rich people have maids or something to do these things? a turn around the corner makes her stop on her tracks, nearly dropping the bags onto the floor.

a hand is held out to catch her elbow, steadying her feet. "sorry, i didn't see you." she apologises, holding the bags even tighter.

"it's okay." you retort, sliding your book bag onto your shoulder. you blink at her, noticing who she was. "oh, haruhi. good morning. you seem pretty busy already."

"good morning, y/n." she replies, nodding her head at you, "yeah, the host club needed a refill on a couple things."

"do you... need help?" you ask, tilting your head at her.

"oh no, it's okay." she spoke, shaking her head with a nervous smile, "i'm nearly there, and club activities are going to start soon."

you shrugged your shoulders, taking some of the bags from her hold. "it's okay, my meeting's been cancelled. i can help." you explain, giving haruhi a smile, "i don't mind spending a little more time getting to know you."

she held her breath for a moment as you led her to the music room that the host club occupied. you were well-known around the school yourself, not as much as the infamous tamaki but still. you shared world history class together and sat in front of her. she knew the sound of your voice by the end of the first month here at ouran academy, and it was no wonder why many of your classmates would seek your help for work. haruhi was good at reading people, so she could tell that you yourself didn't have any bad intentions.

you two became friends quite easily, and you had visited her a few times at the host club. you acted as a cool escape from the strange world of the rich that haruhi had to get used to. you spoke to her as if she was always a friend of yours, sweet and kind. she thought that, if you had tried to, you could knock even tamaki off of his pedestal.

"i heard from hikaru that your theme for this week is the opposite of a 'maid cafe'." your voice cuts through her thoughts, and she drags her eyes to meet with yours. heat rushes to her cheeks at the idea that kyoya had brought up to make a rise in sales. you chuckle at her reaction. "well, i'll have to make sure to stop by to see you."

haruhi rolls her eyes, looking out the window to her left. "please spare me the humiliation, y/n." she huffed out, frown tugging on her lips.

you only grin wider. "c'mon, haruhi, you know that’s the only reason i show up." you say, leaning forward to get a look at her face. she was burning even brighter, and it didn't help that when she glanced back at you, you were staring at her with that welcoming and heart-warming grin you always had for her. "should i switch to always visiting the twins, then?"

haruhi gives you a deadpan look, which makes you laugh. she knows you wouldn't, you literally only asked for her. but she couldn't help the feeling she experienced when you would say her name or look at her like that.

at the host club, you help drop off the bags as kyoya checks everything on his clipboard. at the bell, haruhi escorts you to the door.

"thank you again, y/n, for your help. i'll repay you." she says, knowing full well that all her payments were going to the host club for her initial incident.

you ruffle her hair a little with a smile. "no problem, haruhi. i'll always be here to lend a hand." you say, walking down the hall with your 'goodbye'.

haruhi spares you a wave, closing the door after seeing you turn the corner. when she looks back to her clubroom, she notices kyoya standing a few feet away, back against the wall. "oh, kyoya-senpai. i forgot you—”

“taking a liking to l/n, have we?” he taunts, clipboard under his arm. his glasses gleam with mischief and haruhi gulps. picking it up from the table, he hands her the costume for the day. “is that why they’ve become a regular now?”

she rolls her eyes and grabs it from him. “believe what you want, i’m not doing this out of pleasure.” she admits, hurrying to the change rooms. she passes the other hosts, all standing in the doorway and watching the two interact. haruhi stops on her tracks yet again, furrowing her brows. “what now?”

“what’s this? have haruhi and y/n finally begun dating?” the twins chime, wrapping their arms around haruhi as she begins to heat up, “the love story of the century, two pining young students unable to keep their affections a secret.”

kaoru glances to tamaki, who is fixing up his tie. “what do you say, boss? should we invite y/n to join the host club?” he suggests.

honey jumps up, holding his toy up in the air. “they would be so cute together, right taka-chan?” mori simply nods his head, looking indifferent.

“hmm. perhaps a new addition would spark some rivalry between haruhi and y/n.” tamaki concludes, “many of our guests would love to see the lovers battle to be the best! yes, that is a splendid idea! haruhi—”

turning around, he sees haruhi exit the change rooms in her butler outfit. she huffs back, shaking her head, “i am not inviting y/n to join the host club, you idiots.”

she walks passed them, ignoring the banter they were spouting and the arguments they had for you joining the club. in the end, it was a definite no.

she didn’t know what it was. maybe she just really wanted you to herself.

↣ suoh tamaki:

tamaki, like always, was surrounded by the girls of ouran academy.

if there were any sign that today was just going to be another day, it would be that. the sounds of screams and dreamy sighs, the voice of tamaki swooning them all, and the trail of hearts left behind. another day here at school for you.

but, like always, the club members would make fun of him for his eccentric ideas and whatnot. as they leave to go to class, tamaki stands in the music room with a disappointed look on his face. whenever he would put a frown on his face, the customers would come rushing in! hold his face, cling to his side! why must his friends be so disheartening?

when the door opens to the music room, he expects it to be kyoya to drag him back, and he throws on his frown again. "oh, kyoya! i'm so sad!"

"why is that, tamaki?" you ask, closing the door with your sheet music under your arm and your violin in hand. he blinks at you, obviously not expecting anyone other than the club members. "my apologies, i walked into the wrong room. why are you here by yourself?"

to play it off (although he has never seen you attend any club activities, only ever seeing you in his literature class) he stands up, cheeks burning with embarrassment. he chuckles out, arms thrown to his sides, "o-oh! don't mind me, i'm just a bit down. i didn't expect such a kind student to make themselves known at such a time! how are you on this fine day, mx l/n?"

when you tilt your head, walking closer to his spot at the couch. "a sweet boy like you should never be left alone to sulk." you state, sitting down across from him. he widens his eyes, gulping. "where are your friends?"

"uh... they are in, um, class!" he says as the end-of-the-day bell rings. you only smile. tamaki sighs, dropping his whole get-up and looking to his hands, leaning back against the softness of the couch, "i suppose they left me here while they went home."

"you don't want to go home yet?" you question. he shakes his head. you only exhale, placing your sheet music on the table and your violin next to you. "well, if that is the case, then i'd be happy to keep you company, my lovely."

he widens his eyes as he looks to you. a faint blush paints his cheeks. "you... would?" you nod your head twice. he then smiles. "truthfully, i have no business being here right now. kyoya had called off our club meeting because of exams coming up and the twins failing some classes. and if they fail, they can't be in the club."

"is that so?" you say, making conversation, "well, i suppose you can spend your time with me."

"do you not have a lesson to get to?" tamaki asks, concerned as he glances to your sheet music, "i wouldn't want to keep you—"

"would you like to come to my practice, then?" you offer, smiling softly that it makes him hold his breath for a moment. you were so charming, in such a different way than he was. it was enticing. "i'm sure you wouldn't distract me. not on purpose, that is."

your little joke at the end makes him nervously laugh. "oh, i... i wouldn't want to bother."

"you're not bothering me, tamaki." you honestly say. he unconsciously leans towards you, eager to get closer. you stay where you are, smiling at his actions. "and it seems you just can't resist me."

he catches himself falling. he almost can't believe it, but he then fixes himself and his posture, standing up straight. "r—right, well, i... you...!"

you chuckle, standing up and taking his arm linked in yours, "alright, prince, let's go."

he gasps as you guide him to your practice room, so confident through the halls. he's scared someone will see him in such a flustered state and his cool prince facade will fade. but luckily enough, you navigate your way easily and shut the door behind you.

except, it doesn't take you to the music room. no, in fact, you and tamaki end up on one of the balconies that overlook the quieter side of school — opposite side from the host club.

"i practice here during our breaks and study sessions." you admit, placing a music stand and clipping your sheet music to it. unlatching you violin, you glance to tamaki. "away from all your fangirls, that is."

he raises a brow, catching himself finding his confidence again, "jealous, perhaps?"

"what do you think?" you say, tuning your instrument.

tamaki blinks, staring at the ground as he sits at the bench in front of you. he states, "there is no possible way you could've gotten the wrong room, you know."

you raise your brows, looking back at him. a slow smile creeps onto your lips. "your club passed me in the hallway before i saw you." you admit, waxing your bow, "i just wanted to make sure ouran's pride and joy was okay."

his heart swells at your words. he doesn't know why, but all of a sudden birds sings for you, flowers bloom in your presence the breeze smells sweeter.

"thank you..." he hums, smiling at you sweetly, "may i hear something?"

you lift your bow, nodding your head, "yes, your highness."

his heart explodes at the first note.

↣ ootori kyoya:

if there was one thing kyoya was good at, it was analysing people's strengths and weaknesses. the smart one, glasses-wearing, everything. he was it.

but one thing he couldn't understand was why you were so popular.

you were a part of the school student committee, and as a part of your duties, you hd to do monthly check-ups on clubs to see if they were still eligible to continue. while the host club never failed, you would still drop by without a doubt.

today was one of those days.

kyoya could tell you were near by the increase in whispers and gasps around the hallway. once heard, he excused himself and walked off to grab the folder that held the statistics for their monthly report.

as if on cue, you enter, herd of admirers behind you.

"ah, good evening, mx l/n." he says, offering a bow, "to what do i owe the pleasure?"

"it's good to see you too, ootori." you chime, bowing yourself, "is your report ready for this month? it is the 31st after all."

kyoya can almost hear the agonising tone in your voice, hidden by your politeness. but he doesn't waver, holding out the folder. "indeed. like always, we are right on time." he tells you.

you take it from him, opening it up and falting. kyoya raises a brow. "is something the matter, l/n?" he questions.

you look up at him with the faintest smile. "perhaps you're pulling my leg here, ootori. this appears to be last month's report." you chime, pinpointing his mistakes at its core.

he takes the folder from you and reviews the dates. you were correct, this was last month's report. he scans the room until he locks eyes with the twins, who shrug their shoulders innocently and walk off.

"i... apologise. it seems the twins have taken it into their own hands to file the report for this month." he sighs, fixing his glasses, "if you'll follow me, i will find it for you."

you agree, smiling as those you pass before you enter the side room with kyoya in front of you.

as the doors shut, you click your tongue, "oh kyoya, those two run circles around you, don't they?"

the host rolls his eyes, taking out the box of reports from the cabinet and setting them on the desk. he does miss how his name sounds on your lips. so soft.

"they are a pain, but we make do." he huffs, "must your enterage always follow you when you come see us?"

"oh it's not just when i come here." you state, hand on your hip, "it's everywhere."

you were so smug it made him scowl. he opens the box and notices that they are all out of order. he groans, "we have to look through every individual file, i'm afraid."

"luckily this is my last club for tonight." you sigh, taking out a couple folders, "i can help you organise these."

"but wouldn't your fanclub miss you too much, y/n?" kyoya speaks, doing the same thing and looking through them.

"you're one to talk." you chuckle.

"i truly don't understand how you manage to gather so many followers. you're merely treasurer." he complains, shrugging his shoulders, "do you like being followed around like that?"

you roll your eyes at his dramatic personality. you and kyoya had been friends for ages now, and it seems the popularity you acquire puts a strain on your relationship.

"i don't mind being followed, but i do like all of my friends." you state, flipping through pages, "i speak to all of them regularly."

"so they talk to you and you enjoy it?" he questions, raising a brow at you. the thought irked him. why did you speak to so many people? he could call bullshit. but you shrug your shoulders.

"everybody wants to be liked by the person they have a crush on." you say, knowing tone. every one of your "friends" have or have had a crush on you, which is why they speak to you in the first place. "it just so happens that i like making friends."

"that's preposterous." he huffs back, "i don't understand the severity. i don't feel the need to be liked by you."

"that's because i already like you, kyoya. we were friends since forever, after all." you state, putting one report into the correct folder as you glance at him working, "do you not feel the same?"

"frankly, it doesn't matter to me." kyoya says, ignoring how his chest felt at what you said. it was reassuring to know you still liked him.

"what, are you saying that you don't like me, kyoya?" you say, overdramatic voice on. you move closer to kyoya, tilting your head and jutting our your lip. he swallows his nerves "even after everything we've been through? i'm hurt."

"quiet." he grunts, pushing you away as you laugh. his face grows warmer. "just... find that report and get out of here. it's almost time for club activities to end."

you stare at him for a moment, watching red grow on his cheeks in frustration. your friend has always been this way, even though he acts more familiar with you in private, his embarrassed look never changes. you just see it more than anyone else. that's just how you were.

"okay, kyo." you chuckle, moving to the other side of the table and continuing your work.

kyoya sighs to himself, fixing his glasses and calming himself down. how could you be so... charming? and effortlessly so? is this why everyone fawned over you in a similar way to how they fawn over tamaki?

a few more minutes pass before you've found the file and managed to organise the rest of them. kyoya breathes in relief, putting the box away and silently cursing the twins out.

"thank you, kyoya." you hum out, tucking the folder under your arm, "i'll let you know what we come to."

he puts his hand on the door and before he opens it, he turns to you. "you're welcome. please do. it's the only time we ever... see you." he admits, seeing your raised brows.

your smile drops for a second before you sigh, patting his back, "i'll be sure to come and visit more often then. just for you."

when he opens the door, tamaki is trying to swoon your crowd to leave. he cheers and waves his hands, but to no avail. when they see you, they follow after.

"i apologise for extending my stay, suoh." you say, nodding at him as you stand in the exit, your crowd behind you, "i'll see you all soon."

with a wave of your hand, you leave, smiling at kyoya one last time. the twins turn to him immediately.

"so, how was your date with y/n?" they chime, leaning on his shoulders.

"it wasn't a date, you morons. you do realise how much trouble you caused." he says, a sly smile on his face, "seems like a punishment is in order."

the twins dash out of the room before he can say another word, the other members talking quietly amongst themselves about you.

but kyoya only looks down at his clipboard, once again counting the days til you come again for your monthly report.

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: reader drunkenly explains her love for Chris to ‘Matt’

Warnings: swearing, reader being drunk, drinking alcohol, drunk confessions, kissing, mainly fluff

Word Count: 2.9k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

The night started out slow, but then quickly picked up as more people arrived. Your friend, Wren, was hosting a five mill party tonight and you were definitely celebrating.

“Come play pong with me!” Wren yelled as she grabbed your arm.

“One second, I need to send this text.” You kept your eyes on your phone, typing out a text. Wren leans over, “Texting Chris?”

You jerk your phone away, “No, it’s- um.” You roll your eyes, “Yeah, Chris.”

“Christopher Sturniolo.” She says with a smirk and you shush her, “Keep your voice down. He doesn’t even know I like him, I don’t need a hundred and fifty people knowing before him.”

“Are you ever going to tell him?” She tilts her head and you nod, “Yes.”

“When?”

“When.. I fell like te-“ you huff, shoving your phone back into your pocket, “Let’s go play pong.”

You pull her over to the table, standing next to her as two other people emerge from the crowd to play against the two of you.

Your drink was finished by the first round, “Damn.” You laugh, “We really suck at this.”

“You’re not drunk enough. The key to pong is being plastered, okay?” Wren points to the guys across the table, “Well be back for a rematch.”

They laugh, giving a thumbs up and she drags you to the drink table, “Here.” She places two shot glasses on the table top and fills them with a clear liquid, “Cheers to five million!”

“Cheers to five million!” You take your shot and set the glass down, and she instantly refills it, “Oh sweetie, we are just getting started.”

You laugh, taking the second shot, “Okay.” You pour some alcohol into your cup, “Let’s go dance a little bit.”

You dance, go back for more shots, dance some more, get a few more drinks, play some pong - and win, and in between all of that, you were still managing to text Chris.

You so agould hace came,, chrisypjher

You watched the screen as the text bubbles popped up and smiled when his text came through.

Looks like you’re having a damn good night. I would have, but I didn’t have an invite.

You bite your lip, your cup between your knees as you focused on typing as best as you could.

You were drunk, drunk.

Yo u coula have cane wirh me it woulw have bwsn okayu

You lean back, finishing the rest of your drink. You were honestly ready to go home. It’s been a few hours, and within those hours, you partied hard.

It’s okay, ma. I hope you’re having a good time. You deserve it.

You bite your lip, smirking as you reread his text. You were close with the Sturniolo brothers. You grew up down the street from them, so you knew them pretty well.

Your crush on Chris, though, only grew bigger and bigger as the years went on.

Before you can reply, you’re pulled up from your seat, “Come with me!” Wren yells as she pulls you away from your seat.

“What? What’s going on?” You ask confused. The tone in her voice made it seem like something was wrong, “Wren?”

She pulls you away from everyone and turns around, “That girl over there, the-the blonde one with the bow.”

You look over, nodding as you see her, “What about her?” You look back at her, swaying back and forth, you felt like you needed to sit down but the words from Wren’s mouth shocked you, “She likes Chris.”

“What?” You stare at her, “What?”

She nods, “You need to claim him now or else he’ll be gone forever.”

“Don’t say that.” You felt like you could puke, “Are you serious right now?”

She nods, “I over heard her talking to my friend, she said that Chris has been texting her and he really seems interested.”

You glance down at your phone, seeing a Chris from text, “M’gonna ask him.” Wren watches as you bring your phone up.

“What’s her name, Wren?” You look up at her and she shrugs, “I think Leslie or something of that sort? I dunno, I jus’want you to be able to be honest with your feelings with him. You’ve liked him forever.”

A part of you felt like Wren was making this whole thing up just so you would tell him, but then again, the triplets were popular and it is LA that you’re in right now.

“I don’t feel good.” You shake your head, “I need to..” you step back and start walking towards the back patio, “..go outside.”

You walk out, closing the door behind you. To your right, two people were pretty much choking on each other’s tongues and you let out a small huff, walking over to the back of the house more and leaning up against the wall.

You squint your eyes as you try to navigate through the letters on your keyboard as you type out your message.

You stop, realizing when you don’t know what to say. You’re just tapping random letters, “Shit.” You take a deep breath, swiping out of texts and going to your contacts.

You scrolled down to Matt’s contact and his call.

After a few rings, he picks up, “Hey, how’s the party?”

“I-I need you to come get me.”

“Is everything okay? What happened?” Matt asks from the other end, “Y/n?”

“I’m just..” you sigh, “Ready to leave this place.”

“Okay, can you drop your location to me? I don’t know how to get to Wren’s house.”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that.”

“Okay, I’m on my way, can you wait out front?”

“Yeah, I’ll go there now.” You hang up, sending him your location before you walk back in. Wren runs up to you, almost like she completely forgot the news she just delivered, “So good news.”

You sigh, “I’m leaving.”

“Is it because of what I said?”

You shrug, “I just.. drank too much? I think?”

“Whatever, anyway, good news is, she was talking about a different Chris. Apparently this guy is some actor or something, so your Chris is still available.”

You smile slightly, “You need to work on your wording and getting to the point faster.”

“How are you getting home?” She tilts her head as she sips her drink. You hold up your phone, “Matt is coming to get me.”

She nods, “You going to their house?” She smirks, “Where Chris resides. Hmm?”

You roll your eyes, “I guess. Unless he wants to go out of his way, I mean it’s almost one in the morning so.”

“Just bite the bullet, stay at their place.” She perks up, “Fuck I love this song.” She runs away before anything else is said and you shake your head before stumbling to the front door and walking out.

You sit down on the sidewalk outside, looking around as you wait for Matt to roll up.

You look down, gasping quietly when you remember you left Chris on read, “Oh shit.”

Sorty things gor a litle hetiv

Hectic^*

You laugh, shaking your head as you type more.

I’m deubk

You look up as a car pulls up and stops right in front of you. Matt gets out and walks around, “Hey drunkie. Need a ride home?”

You laugh and extend your arm out, indicating you need help up, “Please.” You laugh as he pulls you up and opens the passenger door, “Don’t puke in my car. I just got it cleaned.”

“I’m good, I’m good.” You smile and give him a double thumbs up, “I promise.”

“You better be.” Matt laughs and shakes his head before closing the door. He walks around and gets in, buckling up before looking at you, “Seatbelt, please.”

“Aye aye captain, sir.” You turn, pulling the belt out and laying it over your body. Matt shakes his head, laughing as he starts to drive once he hears the click.

“How was it?” He glances over at you and you sigh, “It was good, really fun, up until Wren had to go and ruin my mood.”

He furrows his brows, “Why did she do that? That wasn’t very nice.”

You scoff, “She told me that some bitch was trying to talk to-“ you stop talking, shaking your head, “Some bitch was causing issues.”

“Issues how?”

You sigh, resting your head back, “Stuff. I think, I don’t know. Wren said she was talking to someone I liked and I got all.. down in the dumps.”

“Who do you like?” Matt asks teasingly and you push his shoulder, “m’not tellin, but you know him.”

Matt knew you liked Chris. Chris was oblivious, even when Matt and Nick would pick on him about how he wouldn’t stop smoking around you.

“I know I do.”

Your head snaps over, “You know I like Chris?”

“I didn’t.” He plays dumb, “But I do now.”

You groan, “Please don’t say anything. Please Matt.”

“I won’t, but you should probably tell him soon.” Matt looks over at you and your heart sinks into your gut, “W-why? Is what Wren said actually true?”

He shrugs and you whine, “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like this is a game because it’s not.”

“You get whiney when you drink, too much. You know that?” He looks at you and laughs, “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.”

You roll your eyes, fighting back laughter, “Not my fault.”

“Actually-“

You cut him off, “Are you taking me home or to your place?”

“Where do you want to go?” He asks as he stops at a red light, “Either one is fine with me.”

“My house is further than yours and I need a shower.” You sigh and Matt nods, “Yeah, I know that, too.” He laughs and you smack his arm.

“I think I’m getting buzzed just by you sitting next to me, goddamn.” Matt laughs and you shake your head laughing, “Fuck off, Matthew.”

“Oooh, we’re going by full names now, okay.” Matt shakes his head, “Why don’t you text Christopher and tell him what you told me.”

At that moment, your phone buzzes in your lap, a few texts from Chris appearing on your Lock Screen, “I’m not going to tell him that, not yet. But I will tell him how much of a bully you’re being to me right now.”

Matt laughs, “Good luck with that.”

You read down the texts from Chris,

I can tell lol

Is Matt there to get you yet?

Are you coming here or going home?

You bite you lip, concentrating on typing out your message.

I’m wirh Matthew hea being a bulky righy now tho lol alsp coming to youe house

You hit send and look over at Matt, “Does Chris like me too?”

Matt shrugs, “You’ll have to ask him that one yourself.”

“How do you not know?” You scoff, laughing as you look over at him. He shrugs, “I don’t get paid enough to be a matchmaker.”

“We don’t pay you at all?” You laugh and Matt laughs, “Exactly.”

He pulls into the driveway and you let out a sigh, “Fuck.”

“What?” Matt asks as he undoes both seatbelts, “Thought you wanted to come here.”

“I did, I do. I just, am way too drunk for this right now.”

Matt laughs, “Too bad, you’re not sleeping out here. Come on.” He gets out, walking around to open your door. He helps you out, holding onto your arm as you walk up the steps, “Last one.”

You nod, stepping up and standing at the door. You stare at the knob and look at Matt, “Is it locked?”

“No it’s not locked.” Matt laughs, “Get in there, drunkie.”

You laugh as you walk in, gasping when you see Nick heading for the steps, “Nick!”

He turns around, head tilting as his eyes go wide, “Hello?”

You walk up and give him a hug and Matt closes the door, “She’s wasted.”

Nick nods, leaning back, “Yeah, I can smell it, goddamn. How much did you have to drink?”

You start counting on your fingers but you end up laughing, “A lot.”

Nick raises his brows and shakes his head, “So you had a good time?” You nod, “a greeeaate time!” Matt walks up behind you, “Come on. To the bathroom. You need to wash off the night, literally.”

You groan as you follow him, taking your time on the steps. When you look up, Chris is standing there with a smirk, “What’s up, drunkie?”

You roll your eyes, smirking as you make it past the last step, “I am in fact, drunkie.”

“I know, you told me. Multiple times.” Chris laughs and you sigh, “I gotta go wash the night off, literally. Matt’s words, not mine.”

You hold your hands up in defense and lean back, you gasp as you feel like you’re falling but both Matt and Chris reach out for you, grabbing you before you tumble, “Yeah.” Chris nods, “I’ll go get you some water.”

You walk to the bathroom and you can hear Matt and Chris whispering but you pay no attention. You walk into the bathroom and close the door.

You lean against the wall as you reach in to slowly turn the water on. You sigh, pushing yourself up off the wall and take off your dress and everything else.

You step in, closing the door and letting the water fall down all over you. You sway back and forth, humming to yourself as you reach out to grab some of the soap.

You wash your body, then you move to your hair and rinse and you take a few more moments, just standing under the hot water before finally getting out.

You were still drunk, but you already knew you were in for a massive hangover tomorrow, which you dreaded, but it was always worth it.

You wrap the towel around your body, wiping the mirror to check if all of your makeup was off or not, and it was, luckily.

You opened the door and walk out. As you make your way down to the guest room, a voice calls out for you, “Y/n.”

“What?” You turn around, moving to lean against the wall. Matt walks down the hall, “Do you need clothes or anything?”

“I think I have a few things here. If not I’ll come find you.”

He nods, “Okay. If you need anything at all, just yell.”

“Okay.” You laugh and walk to the room. You had a shirt and a pair of sweats here, so you dried off and threw them on.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. You got up from the bed and opened it, “Matt. I’m good.” You spin around and walk back to the bed to lay down.

“I-“

You cut him off, “Actually. I want to talk to you.” You sit up, glancing over at him, “Remember what I said in the car?”

“You said a lot.” He chuckles, “what part exactly?”

“About Chris.” You look over at him, “Matt, I don’t know how to tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

You scoff, “That I like him. Come on, keep up dude.”

You hear him laugh and he brings his hand up to his mouth, “Right, yeah. Sorry.”

“What so funny? Seriously, I feel like I’m going to lose my chance on being with him, like I just want to know if he likes me back, why can’t you just give me that?”

“He does like you.”

“He does?” You snap your head over to him and your heart sinks into your gut, “Oh fuck.”

“Hey.” Chris pushes down his hood and runs his hand over his hair and you shake your head, “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.. to.. fuck. Drunk me always embarrasses myself.”

You lay your hands over your face and you feel the bed dip down. Chris gently pulls your hands away and tilts your chin up, “Look, I’m just glad that I finally got confirmation.”

He laughs slightly and you smile, “I’m not, like, having a drunk hallucination am I?”

He shakes his head, “No, ma. This is real.”

You were suddenly feeling,. Bold, to say the least. You tilt your head, squinting your eyes, “Prove it.”

Chris smirks, shaking his head as he laughs, “Alright, fine.”

He leans in, cupping your cheek before pressing his lips to yours. Your hand slides up his chest, resting on his neck as your lips move with his.

He leans back slightly, eyes looking into yours, “Did that prove anything?”

You nod your head, “Uh huh. I just hope I remember this tomorrow.”

Chris laugh, “Yeah, me too.” He smiles and nods towards the top of the bed, “Come here.” He moves up, laying down and holding his arms out.

You move up, laying your body on his and his arms wrap around your body, holding onto you tight, “Thanks for drunk texting me.”

You laugh slightly, “drunk or sober, it’s always you.” You tilt your head up and he looks down at you, smiling before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Good, now get some sleep.” He kisses your head and with that and his embrace, you were out like a light.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thanks for reading! I love you all so much! Catch you in the next one. 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[kingofthe-egirls]

SITTING PRETTY: LUFFY x Y/N

(cw: alcohol, kitsune, east blue crew, yes i was imagining the opla cast but so were you, kissing, sitting in someone’s lap)

(a/n: this was so fun. smut maybe coming soon? we’ll see)

Songs: “Hotel” by Claire Rosinkranz

words: 1.2k

Luffy is staring at you.

He’s sitting across the campfire from you, sipping a glass of milk through a straw. You have your own moscow mule in hand, the copper mug sweating with cold condensation.

The air smells like smoke.

“So!” Luffy speaks, twirling his straw around in his drink. He slurps it loudly before continuing, “Let’s play a game!”

He smiles around at the rest of the crew, who are all in their own various states of intoxication. It’s been a long night, after several days at sea with no islands in sight. Everyone is a little bored, a little stressed, and more than a little in need of blowing off some steam. Nami shrugs.

“Sure, captain. What’s up?”

Luffy leans forward, wicked smirk painting his charming features. You stare down into your melted ice and muddled mint leaves.

“Let’s play truth or dare!”

Zoro sighs, but leans forward too. Sanji and Usopp also perk up. The Merry creaks in the waves as she sails. The ocean laps at her sides, soothing and peaceful in the summer night air. The campfire sparks up with a flare.

Luffy slurps his milk.

“What are the stakes?” Nami asks, adjusting in her seat, her boots slung over one another as she leans back. Usopp is fiddling with his slingshot.

Zoro shrugs, “Drink if you won’t take a dare, drink twice if you won’t take a truth.”

“So, we’re trying to outmatch each other? Get stuff we won’t wanna do?”

“Sorta,” Zoro says, “S’alright with everyone?”

“Sounds fun,” you admit, downing your glass before handing it off to Sanji. He’s a sucker for your sparkly eyes and fluffy tails. Your ears flick back and forth, excited. Nervous.

Sanji hurries back with a refill.

He straightens his suit jacket before sitting back down. The indigo night washes over him with a flattering, velvet softness. You wonder what shade of blue his eyes are, up close.

Luffy clears his throat.

“Sooo, who wants to go first?” His shining eyes scan the crew, and you flick up a tail (or two). He smiles, and takes a sip of his kid’s drink.

You sigh. “Truth,” you say, staring at Nami. You figure she’s gonna strike the worst, so might as well get it over with first. She stares at you, flicking her eyes up and down your scrappy frame. She arches an auburn brow.

“So, Kitty,” she sips her cider, and Sanji shifts in his seat. “Have you ever had sex before?”

She’s smiling, devilish, as you snort through your drink. She laughs as you cough, orange hair swaying in the soft breeze. Everyone else stutters and laughs, and Zoro mutters something about “starting off strong.” You swallow, sucking your teeth as you swirl melted ice around your drink.

“Yes.”

Everyone sighs out in relief, tension removed for a second of release.

Your eyes flick up to hers.

“Your turn.”

She stares back at you: a challenge.

“Dare.”

You shrug, mouth turned down, “I dare you to say when the last time you had sex was.” You stare at her glare, as she clocks you basically just gave her a truth anyway. She sniffs.

“Last week.”

“Liar!” You say, and she giggles. You shove the bottle of tequila closer to her, and she swallows what is certainly more than just one shot.

“Your turn,” she says to Zoro, who glances at Luffy for his prompt.

Luffy stares at the floor, now-empty glass held loosely in slender fingers. “What…is your favorite color?”

“I didn’t say truth, captain,” Zoro snorts, “Truth or dare, Luffy.”

“Dare?”

Sanji sighs, and Usopp says “we might as well go with it,” so Zoro sighs and starts to think of something to dare his already-reckless captain with. He settles on something silly, and tame.

“I dare you to slingshot back and forth across the ship five times.”

Happy to be moving, your hyperactive friend shoots up and starts gum-gum rocketing across the ship with no small amount of shouting. You swirl the mint leaves in your drink. “Your turn,” you murmur to Usopp, who gives Sanji a glance.

“Truth or dare?” The chef asks, his own glass of wine clutched in his delicate fist. It’s as dark as the sea.

“Truth.”

“What do Kaya’s lips taste like?”

The group ooo’s in scandalous delight, all eyes on the sniper as he stares down into his drink. “Pass,” he says, and takes a huge slurp. It dribbles down his chin. “Who’s turn is next?”

“Sanji,” you say, turning to him with a smile, “Truth or dare, handsome?”

He blushes at your pet name, and someone coughs. The blond boy licks his lips. His eyes meet yours, reflecting the fire’s red heat.

“Dare.”

“Kiss my cheek,” you preen, tails flicking around you. You bare the side of your face to him, sitting pretty by the campfire. Your scrappy jeans have stitched-on patches, and your crop top hangs loose around your frame. A single pendant hangs around your neck, and your hair is twisted into messy braids. You knock your steel-toed boots together.

Sanji hums, peaceful, as he delicately scoots toward you. He’s already sitting next to you, tall legs and broad shoulders bumping into yours as he settles closer in. His hand is slightly cool as it graces the side of your neck. “Be still, pretty,” he whispers, just for you, as he presses a slow smooch against your cheek. He bites it, playfully, and you swat him away with a fearsome blush.

Usopp giggles, and Nami snorts into her cider again. Zoro and Luffy are both silent. You swallow, and cast about the crew for someone else’s turn. “Is it me again?” You ask, and Zoro nods.

“Truth or dare?” He says, sake almost drained from his bottle. The air stills, sudden breeze gone quiet as you sit together. You curl two tails around yourself, petting the soft, arctic fur in your lap. It scratches against the striped patch on the side of your left hip.

“Truth.”

“Nope,” Zoro says, swigging his sake, “Truth is boring. You’re doing a dare. Sit in the lap of the person you’d most like to have sex with.”

Everyone gasps, except for you.

Your eyes burn with smoke, staring down the swordsman across the crackling flames. Sparks shoot up between you, orange and hazy in the moonlight. Something thumps against the ship; a fish or a shark that swims away silently.

You stand.

Sanji shifts, still close to you from his kiss. He scratches the fabric of his slacks above his left knee. His shoes are shiny and black beneath the stars. You step over them, carefully.

And you make your way across the circle, slowly as a shark circling prey.

“Sorry,” you whisper, standing in front of the captain who saved you, “Is this seat taken?”

He stares at you.

His breath comes ragged and hazy, as he sets his glass down to make room. His hands are sweaty, so he wipes them off on his shorts as you stand beside his hip. He leans back, slightly, to let you sit side-saddle across his legs. He shifts on the deck so he’s cross-legged, and you take your seat with a searing blush. Your ass fits neatly into the space between his crisscrossed legs, his heat spilling into your body as he wraps his arms around your waist.

He nuzzles into your cheek, his soft hair tickling your jaw. “Sleeping in my hammock tonight,” he whispers, his lips in your hair, “Captain’s orders.”

****

[bisexualiteaa]

Make-Up Sex

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Rough sex, riding, Cooper getting tied up, p in v, p0rn w/o plot, irradiated cream pie x2, mention of needles, cursing, established relationship, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviance from show

AN: I’m really enjoying writing for asks! Thank you to those who have submitted any, my ask box is always open so feel free to send in more! I will do my best to get to them as I can, and to the Anon who asked for this one, I hope I did your ask justice! Enjoy our favorite cowboy getting tied up and railed. Save a horse, ride a cowboy y’all. 🤠 apologies if it seems rushed, I wrote it at like 2am and post this on my way to work 😭

Synopsis: Cooper Howard is one stubborn man, and after a while of getting on your nerves, you finally find a way to make him apologize.

He had been getting on your nerves all day. First instance was when you two were out scavenging after finishing a bounty hunt, your supplies were running a bit low after being out for three whole days longer than you’d anticipated. You were getting ready to shoot one of the bandits that managed to get a stray bullet to graze your cheek when he killed them before you could even get a chance. You evil eyed him as he said “ain’t fun havin’ your kills stolen from ya, is it sweetheart?” He asked, making you roll your eyes and give a groan as you sifted through the raider’s pockets for anything useful. No such luck. A whole three bottle caps, and a plastic fork. So you drug your feet as you both carried on towards home.

Second instance was when you both were surprised by some radroaches and radscorpions after opening the door to what looked to be a vacant rest stop to get supplies from. A few wasted bits of ammo later, you make it inside and he made fun of your screams for a whole two hours. “Ain’t afraid of raiders, needles, nothin’ but bugs” he would say as he’d laugh so hard he’d go into a coughing fit while your face burned bright red with anger and embarrassment as he’d use his inhaler.

The third instance was where you drew the line. He was sifting through his bag trying to find his canteen of water after not finding shit at the rest stop. “Motherfucker” he said to himself, upon not being able to find it or anything really to have to drink. So instead of asking, he just went into your bag when you were busy trying to scavenge more bodies, took yours and drank it dry without telling you, and you had at least three more hours on foot until you made it back to the settlement. So when you went to go get a drink of water, the horror and plain rage on your face when you felt that it was empty was immeasurable. “How in the fuck is this thing empty? I JUST filled it yesterday!” You said, turning to look at Cooper as you both walked and the look on his face was all you needed as an answer. “You drank all o’ my water? What ‘n the hell happened to your canteen?” You asked, your southern drawl becoming more evident the angrier you got. “Must’ve forgot it” he said, making you look at him like he just spoke a whole different language. “You forgot it?” you asked, wondering how in the hell the deadliest motherfucker in this wasteland was traveling with you and just forgot his water. “Oh you gotta be shittin’ me….You know what, I don’t even wanna know how you managed that. We’re almost back to the settlement, I’ll refill it when we get there” you said angrily, moving ahead of him a little to prove that he’d pulled the last straw on your patience.

When you made it back to your settlement and back to the place you called home, you organized all the supplies you’d gotten, (which wasn’t much) putting them where they all were supposed to go, refilling canteens of water, and changing into more comfortable clothes as night began to fall. It was around dinner time that Cooper finally noticed that he really managed to piss you off.

You’d hardly ever given Cooper the cold shoulder in the time you two had been together, he was married before so he wasn’t ignorant to what being given the cold shoulder meant, but Cooper Howard was a stubborn man, one set in his ways so when he feels there’s no need to do something, he will not do it. “You gonna sit here ‘n ignore me all night?” He asked, and all you did was cross your arms in response, making him shake his head. “I’ll take that as a yes, but we’ll see how long that lasts, ya always come around somehow” he said arrogantly, only adding fuel to the fire and he knew it, it’s just how he was. He was an asshole, he was when you met him and apparently that charm never fully left. He was partly right however which is what you didn’t want to give him credit for. Even when you were really mad at him, you always came around at some point. His mouth got him into a lot of trouble, but it also managed to get him out of it too, his charisma and smooth talking always landing with some kisses to open you back up or make up sex to help you forget. You never were the kind of girl to let good dick sway you out of being mad but it was attached to a man that cared about you in ways no one else ever did, so you supposed he was at least a good exception. “You’ll come ‘round when that ache sets in, when you realize your dainty lil’ fingers can’t do anything close to what mine do to you” he said by your ear as he stood up from the dining room table, working you up and trying to get you to sleep with him to forget about your anger, but just as he was stubborn, you were just as set in your ways too. Though he knew it was a tough decision for you, you’d both gone a whole two weeks out there in the wastelands collecting caps from bounties and scavenging for supplies without any time or a means to sneak away and be with one another, so you were both pent up and he knew it. It was half the reason for your attitude to begin with, although you supposed he likely knew that too.

You got up from the chair in the kitchen a few minutes after he moved to the bedroom, getting ready for bed. You stopped him as he’d just taken his boots off, finally ready to be on speaking terms again but they were your terms. “Here’s how this is gon’ work. You, are gonna lay on that bed, and let me fuck you like I hate you because right now, I am doing everythin’ in my power not to hate you, and you ain’t been makin’ that an easy feat” you said, your eyes looking straight into his as if you were staring right into his soul, if he still even had one. “Yeah? And what makes you think I’m just gonna let you get away with that, lil’ lady?” He asked in a condescending tone, making you chuckle. “Because I know damn well you’re as pent up as I am, so if you want any, and wanna get back into my good graces, this is how it’s gonna happen. And I will accept that as an apology for the shit you’ve done” you replied as you stepped closer, not caring that you had to look up at him when you spoke, the venom in your words was enough to prove the point you were trying to make. Your response making him huff a short, dry chuckle, impressed by how well you stood your ground, so he awaited your orders. “Now take your damn clothes off” you said, making him grin as he did as he was told, he could get used to you bossing him around like this. Your accent got a little thicker when you were mad, and the way you barked orders and told him what to do with a quip ready for whatever he had to say in response, he had to admit was a side of you he liked seeing more than he’d ever admit to. He shook his duster from his shoulders, then worked at his shirt as you pulled yours off and over your head, then moved to unclasp your bra and dispose of it on the floor, not caring where it went. Your eyes raked each other’s frame with almost visible tension as you stood a few feet apart from each other. Enough space to keep him from using his hands to get you to submit, but enough to also allow you to close the gap when you felt comfortable enough to. You both worked at undoing your pants, tossing them aside to be forgotten about until morning. “Get on the bed” you ordered, leaving the room to grab his rope from his saddlebag in the kitchen. When you returned, he noticed the item in your hands, giving you a wicked grin. “Gonna tie me up, sweetheart?” He asked in that condescending tone, making you chuckle as you tied his hands to the rungs of the bed frame nice and tight. Tight enough to keep him in place, not too tight to hurt too much, he was an asshole sure but he was still your asshole. “Sure am. Gonna need to earn the right back t’ touch me, and you ain’t earned it yet” you replied, straddling his lap as you ground your slick pussy against his cock. He gave a groan at the feel of you, watching as your hips moved against his to coat him in slick for when you’d line him up to your entrance. Key word there was when because you wanted to make this torturous. You moaned as you bucked your hips against him, his head bumping your clit as you used him for your own pleasure. “Think I could use you just like this. Mmm…make myself cum then leave you here achin’ for more” you threatened, running your hands along your figure and toying with your breast to tease him extra, hearing groans leave him each time your pussy would glide along his cock. “Now that ain’t very nice of you” he replied, making you grin. “Never said nothin’ ‘bout playin’ nice sugar. Still waitin’ for you to say you’re sorry” you responded, making him grunt as you continued to play with yourself and moan all sweetly. “I ain’t apologizin’, no need to” he said, making you click your tongue. “A shame, looks like you ain’t cummin’ tonight then” you said, continuing your movements as you got closer and closer to letting that knot snap inside you. He wanted- no he *needed* to feel your gummy walls wrapped around his cock, so the fact that you were using it in a way that couldn’t afford him that, was already working his nerves.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like what I’m givin’ you? Should be thankful I’m even touchin’ you with how mad you made me” you said, going a little quicker now with your movements so he tried focusing on that, focusing on the way your clit would bump that spot right under his tip over and over. So when you came from grinding against it rather than seating on it and *ruined*that chance of still getting to finish, he gave a disgruntled grunt.

“Aww what’s the matter? Did I stop somethin’?” You asked in a deeper, condescending tone that had his dick throbbing in need. He’d never seen this evil of a side of you before, but you had only just started. “Whatchya want Cooper? Go ‘head, tell me” you said, making him grunt. “Want you t’ shut up and ride me already” he said, making you chuckle before landing a harsh slap across his face, the sound of your hand meeting his cheek rang through the room. “You ain’t in the position to be givin’ orders sugar. I thought you had manners” you said as he turned and looked back at you, astonished one by the power behind that smack and two, by the tone you were getting with him. “I’ll ask you one more time, what’dya want me to do to you, hmm?” You asked, and knowing now what power you had behind just one of those smaller hands of yours, he relented. “Ride me, please” he grunted, making you smile and lay a soft kiss to his cheek to try and soothe where you slapped him. “See? Not so bad now is it? Now if ya just apologize, I’ll take some RadAway and let you cum” you said, and judging by the look on his face, you could say that wasn’t going to happen. “Fuck you” he spat, making you chuckle. “Oh I am gonna fuck you, don’t you worry” you said as you lined him up to your entrance, sinking down on him inch by torturous inch. You were having way too much fun with this, and he didn’t like that he couldn’t have his way for a change. His hips involuntarily bucked up to try and shove more of himself into your tight cunt, but you moved to where it wouldn’t happen, making him grip the bed frame where he was tied to. “Someone’s gettin’ antsy, best keep them hips steady if you want this to continue” you said, making him growl under his breath before giving a groan once you were fully seated on him. You gave a moan as his tip nudged the apex to your cervix, moving your hips back and forth to where you would get off, but not do much for him. He gave you an angry look that made you laugh. “What’s the matter honey? Ya asked me to ride you already, it’s what I’m doin’” you said, making him grit his teeth as he did his best to hold his bearings. “But I guess you were good and didn’t move after I warned you so I’ll throw a bone atchya” you said, moving up and down on him, earning a groan from him once more that mingled with the moans falling from your lips. “Fuck…” he breathed, making you chuckle and smirk in that bratty way that he wanted to fuck off your face already, but he couldn’t. Despite his expressions and reactions, he was enjoying this too much but he couldn’t let you know that.

“Mmm, Cooper…” you moaned sweetly as you bounced on his cock, his name sounded heavenly when it fell from your lips, he could hardly get enough of it. He watched as your tits bounced up and down with your movements, the way your thighs jiggled as you moved, god how he wanted to grip them so bad right now. To hold you down and buck up into you until your eyes were rolling back in your head and you were screaming, but this was your show to run. You picked up the pace a little bit, going faster and angling where his tip would brush against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside. He felt the way your walls started to close around him, sucking him in each time you’d come down, and fluttering around him. You were close. You were so caught up in chasing that feeling that you almost missed what he said. “Fuck- ‘m sorry” he spoke softly, finally apologizing to you. “What was that? I don’t think I quite heard ya there” you said, making him grunt. He should have known that you would milk the shit out of this. “I said I was- fuck- sorry” he repeated, making you hum but it wasn’t enough, not yet. So you stopped. “Sorry for what?” You asked, and he didn’t seem very happy at the fact that you stopped moving all together when he was so close to cumming yet again. “Dammit, wadn’t sayin’ sorry enough? I fuckin’ apologized like you wanted” he snapped, making you slap him across his cheek once more, this one stinging a bit more because it landed in the exact same spot as the last one. Though the tingling sensation of pain never lasted very long, it was enough to make his dick throb while inside of you and he prayed you wouldn’t notice. “Lose the attitude before I hop off and take care of myself then leave you tied up here all night” you said, making him huff in response. “Fine” he replied gruffly through gritted teeth. “Good, now I wanna hear you say it. What are you sorry for?” You asked as you started your pace back up, making him groan again as your hips and ass slapped down against him harshly. “Sorry f’ bein’ an asshole” he grunted out. “And?” You asked, needing just a little bit more before you were satisfied. “And f’ makin’ you mad” he finished, and you were content with that. “Happy?” He asked, making you hum and pretend to contemplate if you were for a minute before finally answering. “Yeah, I’ll take that” you said, placing your hands on his chest as you bounced up and down on him once more, earning a relieved sigh from him. “Just like that sweetheart, fuck…” he groaned before you leaned down, pulling him into the first kiss you’ve shared in a day and a half. You moaned into it as you started to near your peak, finally able to chase it after all the time spent putting it off to deal with his attitude. “Gonna cum- Cooper…!” you moaned into the crook of his neck and that was his undoing. You hid your face into his neck as your walls squeezed him tight, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shook as his hips bucked up into you, trying to work the both of you through your high as he pumped you full.

What he wasn’t expecting was you to keep moving, earning an almost pained groan from him as you ground yourself against him. “I never gave you permission to cum inside me” you stated, apparently he wasn’t out of the dog house just yet. He was plotting how he would get you back for this on another day, how he’d wreck you and make you remember just who it is you’re doing this to. You smirked as you had the wonderful idea of giving him a taste of his own medicine. “Perk about it bein’ a minute? I can go all night” you teased as you set that steady pace once more, needing more, needing to feel him after being so long without. His hands gripped the bed posts, white knuckled as he hissed through his teeth from the overstimulation. “You are one evil woman, ya know that?” He asked playfully, making you chuckle. “Don’t act like you don’t fuckin’ love it” you replied, and he certainly couldn’t argue with you there, not when it felt this good. “You can give me one more, can’t you sweetie?” You asked in a sickly sweet tone, using the same line he’d always use on you anytime he’d overstimulate the hell out of you just to see the faces you make and hear your moans. He recognized that line, making him grunt and groan as you moved your hips. “Fuck…” was all he could get out, mind foggy of any thoughts, just how good your walls felt as they massaged his dick. Maybe he should piss you off more often. “Look at those pretty faces, you like this, don’t you?” you asked, making him damn near whimper at your tone and he never does that shit. You gave an evil laugh at the pathetic sound. “Oh you sweet thing, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you” you said, leaning down and biting into his shoulder as you picked up the pace a little bit, earning a lewd groan from him. You laved your tongue over the spot, watching it heal instantly before sitting back up, fully seating yourself on him. You reached behind you to cup and fondle his balls, moving your hips back and forth to grind your clit against him to both work you to your end. “C’mon baby, give it to me. I can tell you’re almost there” you said, making him tilt his head back at all the feelings you were giving him, it was too much yet not enough all at once and it was torture. Your free hand came to his cheeks, pulling his head down to face you. “Eyes on me” you ordered, and his eyes looked into yours for a moment before flitting down to where your bodies were connected, giving a groan when he’d see himself disappear and reappear slightly and the way his cum was sticking to your thighs and his lower stomach. “Cooper…” you moaned softly once more, that was almost always your sign, the way you’d sigh his name so deliciously paired with your walls milking him for everything he could give you drove him mad. “Cum with me honey” you pleaded, and felt as his hips bucked up into you three or four times before you both were sent over the edge once more, a cacophony of moans slipping from both of you as he spilled inside of you and you came on his cock.

After laying there for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful after glow of your orgasms, you sat up, accidentally seating yourself fully on his dick again and he gave a pained groan. “Not again…” he whined, making you laugh as your hands came to the rope binding his wrists. “Relax, I’m just undoin’ ya. I’m mean, but not that mean” you said through giggles. “You okay though? I know I was really rough but I didn’t go too far…did I?” You asked skiddishly, a complete 180 of the attitude you had just moments ago and it made him laugh. “Wasn��t expectin’ it outta you sweetheart but I’d be a damn liar if I said I didn’t like it. I’m alright, you did good” he assured, making you relieved as you laid on top of him, littering his lips, cheeks, neck, shoulder, and chest with kisses as his hands rested on your back and hips. “I love you Coop. Even when ya piss me off, you’re still the only person in this god forsaken wasteland I could ever see myself with” you spoke, making him chuckle. “I love you too, sweetheart. ‘m sorry for makin’ you upset, wasn’t right. But I’d say you did a damn good job of puttin’ me in my place” he said, making you giggle. “No hard feelings?” You asked, looking at him with eyes that held so much worry for one person, eyes that held so much care. His hand came to the back of your head, pulling you into a loving kiss. “Never” he said into it, pressing his forehead against yours after you both parted for air. You gave a contented hum, happy for things to be all right again. “Remind me to piss you off more often, you got a good swing on ya” he said, breaking the peaceful silence with a grin, making you laugh. “Please don’t, I like moments like this so much more. I hate bein’ mad at you, love you too much” you replied, making him kiss the top of your head, wondering what he ever did to deserve someone like you.

“C’mon, let’s get ya cleaned up and get some RadAway in ya, don’t wanna ruin that perfect skin just yet” he said, making you giggle once more but it was cut off by a hiss as he moved you off from his softened dick, grabbing a wet rag and cleaning you both up as he got the IV started. He kissed your head once more, holding your hand like he always did as you got the needle in, got it all hooked up and a good flow going, coming back to sling his arm around you and hold you to him. Between the warmth of his body and the comfort of the bed, you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut, a soft smile resting on your lips as you fell asleep peacefully against him. You always felt safe when you were with him, no matter where you were, and he’d always protect you no matter what. And that, is what love in post apocalypse looked like, he swore it.

[sunflowersteves]

another day, another dollar || b.b.

pairing || bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

summary || Is Rooster jealous that some random aviator won't stop looking at you? Definitely not.

author’s note || i'm so glad you guys enjoyed my last rooster fic!! i have so many ideas for rooster and i hope you guys enjoy this one! <3

warnings || jealousy, misogyny (not from rooster), fem!reader, some mention of violence, smut, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, a little sub!bradley, [18+ only]

“Getting pretty busy, huh?” 

You turned your head around to the unfamiliar voice. You almost raised an eyebrow—he looked smug. “Yep.” You replied, short and sweet. 

You gave him a strained smile in hopes to keep up some customer service facade. You whirled back around to continue to pull the tap and fill up more beers.

He decided to talk to you again. “Think you can handle all this by yourself?”

At the Hard Deck on a buzzing Friday night, you were the only one tending to the bar. Ever since dusk peaked at seven-thirty in the evening, you had been busy refilling beers and taking orders—then occasionally ringing the bell when someone couldn’t pay their tab. 

Penny asked you for a favor when Amelia came home from school with a really bad case of the flu. You knew she felt bad enough leaving you alone on the busiest night of the weekend, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit. You had wished Amelia a speedy recovery. 

You were doing pretty well from the rush of Navy officers, lieutenants, captains, and everywhere in between asking for ales and lagers.

It had actually been somewhat fun chatting up conversations with people. Out of nowhere, though, this lanky twenty-something man stationed himself right in the front of the bar.

He had been staring at you for more than five minutes, and when you paid him no mind—since you were quite frankly busy with customers—he decided to strike up a mundane conversation. It was almost nauseating. 

When you had turned your head the first time, he had his elbow resting on the bar and twirled a pint of beer in his hand. He had a fresh face and flirty twinkling eyes that almost made you gag a little. You knew exactly what he was doing, and you weren’t interested. 

You could tell he was a Naval Aviator with the whole khaki color suit and hat on his head. You could also tell that by the looks of it that he’s new.

You didn’t spin back around, though, when he asked you that question. You didn’t want to give him any attention—hopefully, he will get the goddamn hint. 

“Think you can handle all this by yourself?” Gross. 

“I’ve been doing this for a while. I think I can handle it just fine.” You then turn to Coyote with the four beers he asked for—a genuine smile on your face. He thanked you kindly before sauntering back off to your group of friends by the pool table. 

“Really? I’ve never seen you in here before.” He locked eyes with yours before trailing down your figure and admiring the curves of your hips in tight jeans—a shudder of disgust ran through your body. “I would’ve remembered someone like you.”

Yeah, he was definitely new because if he saw the six-foot-four Top Gun aviator—the top one percent of fighter pilots in the world—that was glaring daggers into him, he would have shit his pants on the spot. You were sure he would never set foot in the Hard Deck again. 

You were Bradley’s, and Bradley was yours. Everyone in the vicinity of the bar knew that. You were always perched on his lap while he spread his skilled fingers across the piano. His arms were always wrapped around your waist as you destroyed Hangman in darts. You two practically couldn’t get your hands off of each other every second of the day. 

No one in their right mind would disturb the pure, raw love between the two of you.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, you were forced under the confinements of the bar area, giving this newbie the perfect opportunity to try and stake his claim.

“Maybe you’re the forgetful one, kid. I’m here every weekend.” You fought the urge to smile in victory when he gave an annoyed expression as the word kid left your mouth.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

“You gonna do something, Rooster?”

His eyes never left your cute irritated face. He watched you give the guy a one-worded answer with a mundane expression. As much as he wanted to give you the kiss of a lifetime, he stood back. “No.”

With Bradley’s answer, Jake was even more amused. “No? I’m surprised. I’d figure by now you’d be trailing over to her like some lost little puppy.”

Bradley bit his cheek to keep from snapping back. He knew that Jake was just giving him shit. He knew that he was just trying to get him all riled up.

It’s what Jake does. But he couldn’t let anything get to him, or he would trail over to you like some lost puppy. Hangman was undoubtedly and stupidly right. 

Jake’s eyebrows raise in surprise at the brooding silence. He expected some little quip and then a smack upside the head from Phoenix right next to him.

Damn, this must be really grinding Bradley’s gears. Jake almost felt guilty for his friend sulking in the corner of the Hard Deck.

“Don’t let Bagman get to you, Rooster. He’s just jealous that your girlfriend rejected him first.”

Phoenix grinned with a teasing smile, and Jake just grumbled to himself. At that, Bradley snorted and shook his head. He was still silent, but his demeanor had at least changed. All of the pilots smiled at Rooster’s shoulders relaxing just a smidge. 

Bradley hated feeling jealous—the angry green monster that sprouted in his chest and sat home in his head was relentless in its hold on him.

His heart always throbbed in his chest, and anger bubbled through his veins when some guy or girl gave you a bashing smile and feather-light touches to your shoulder.

He always stayed silent—brooding—as he watched you from afar. He never wanted you to feel like he didn’t trust you because he did. Oh, he did. He trusts you more than anyone else in the room, and he flies life or death with some of them. He would follow you to the ends of the earth if you had asked him to.

He figured it is most likely some unresolved tension from the tragedies that have struck during his thirty-five years of life, and anyone that wanted to take you away from him burned a hole in his chest.

So, to combat these ingrained feelings, he sat idly by as that guy’s hips were attached to the bar and watched you dodge every single flirtatious glance and awkward pick-up line. He knew you could handle yourself, and there was a whole gaggle of naval aviators that would stop at nothing to make sure you were doing okay. 

“Need another beer?” A peace offering. Jake was already standing up from the bar stool and about to make his way over to you.

He nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Bagman.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

You looked bored. You looked so absolutely uninterested in this guy still speaking to you, and now, he was over-explaining how F-18 engines work and fly. You were a mechanical engineer. You knew how plane engines work. 

You tried to tell him you did, but he was quick to interrupt to continue telling you about how F-18s have more than one-hundred thousand horsepower.

If you didn’t respect Penny’s establishment and reputation, he would’ve been thrown out of the bar by now. Typical men with their typical egos. Though now that you think about it, you’re sure Penny would have encouraged it. 

Your eyes locked with Jake’s, and your eyes lit up at the familiar face. Finally, someone you actually enjoy talking to. Not that you would ever tell Jake that. 

“Need savin’ over here, hot shot?” Jake had interrupted the aviator and ignored the very irritated look that was sent his way. It was almost like the guy was insinuating that he had caught you—that you were going to be his tonight. The feeling of possession he exuded made you want to gag again. 

Jake could tell you wanted this shift to be over as soon as possible. Your eyes glanced at the random man staring at you before turning your attention back onto Hangman. “Nothing I can’t handle. How many beers?” 

“Two, please.” Jake smiled—cocky little shit. “I think you should go talk to your boyfriend over there. He’s been stewin’ for quite a while.” He paused, eyes sliding over to the stranger. “I could even help ya with the bar.”

You turn around to fill up the empty glasses that he handed to you. “Don’t I know it, Bagman.” It was like the aviator that had been hitting on you all night had disappeared—though, you wish. Just you making drinks while your friends entertained you. It was nice for a moment, actually. “I’m due for a break soon enough.” 

Jake spoke too soon, though, because Bradley was already making his way over to the bar. He couldn’t help himself when he saw the guy stare straight at your ass and bite his lip. The action made his blood seethe with vexation, so his feet started walking before his brain caught up.

“Boyfriend?” The guy looks shocked. His eyes were wide as he stared at you. “What the fuck? I’ve been trying all night, and you didn’t say a fucking thing?”

You pursed your lips. Irritated. “I did.”

“Huh?”

Rooster stood tall near the bar, watching the scene before him. He studied the menacing glare you struck at the guy and a hand resting on your hip.

“I told you multiple times when you were talking about damn plane engines that I have a boyfriend—who’s a naval aviator by the way. I’ve made it crystal clear.”

He didn’t miss a beat. The stranger’s eyebrows were furrowed in rage. He stood up from the bar in an irate stance. “You’re a fucking bitch. Do you go around eye-fucking all the guy's then?” His eyes move over to Jake’s.

“You allow your slut to do this, man?”

You, Jake, and Bradley all froze. The whole bar dulls out into silence from his loud gestures, and all eyes are on you four now. 

The audacity of this kid to insult and degrade you when all you were doing was listening to this guy talk and talk. You gave clear signs of being uninterested. Clear. Not to mention he also had the sheer audacity to make a scene in Jake and Bradley’s presence.

“The fuck did you just say?” You were almost in his face as you leaned over the bar—a hard glare set on him with your fueled anger. The grip you had on the bar counter was starting to ache, but you didn’t care. 

“Tame your fucking girl, would you?” Jake’s hands clenched by his side at the comment.

Bradley’s chest heaved up and down, and he could feel the burning emotion consume his entire body and soul. His hands were almost trembling by his side as his thoughts of tearing this asshole to shreds simmered inside his head. 

The guy scoffed. He tried to turn around to leave but was met with Bradley’s hard chest. Clearly, he had no idea what was coming.

Bradley was sweet—a kind, gentle soul. He has picked you up from your lowest and drew you back up. He has told you things about himself that not even he understands. Bradley Bradshaw was a good man—one of the best, you would even argue. 

However, he had a temper. Call it the jet fuel that was practically injected into his veins, but when that temper was pushed to the brim because someone fucked with you? Yeah, they should hope to be six feet under before Bradley could get to them. 

Bradley towered over him, almost making the guy tower down. He was seeing red—fully unsaturated rage at the disrespect toward you. The guy tried to regain some confidence, oddly enough. “Move out of my way.”

Bradley didn’t move—he didn’t even blink. His jaw clenched and unclenched. His eyes bore into the stranger to assess him. His hand twitched at his side as if it was gearing up to make a move. 

“Apologize. Now.” His voice was deep—it was gruff and hollow that immediately went straight to your chest. He didn’t look like the Bradley you knew, the Bradley that would carry you for three miles from a sprained ankle.

This Bradley looked menacing. This Bradley looked deadly. And you weren’t going to lie, it was hot as fuck. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Bradley’s eyes flashed with something you were unfamiliar with. He has been jealous before, yes, but it has mostly been the reassuring kind. This was pure seething rage. His eyes were almost red from the amount of anger that pulsated through his body. 

“Apologize.” Bradley breathes out, but his eyes are digging into the man in front of him. “Or I will rip your fucking kneecaps off.”

Jake stood tall—back stretched out as he watched the interaction. He would spot for Bradley any day, especially to assholes like this random guy. He wanted to be ready for anything that could come Bradley’s way. 

The guy opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut as Bradley took a step closer if it was even possible. He almost dared him too—almost wanted him to so Bradley could get in some punches that this guy deserved. 

“I-I-I’m sorry.” The guy tried to take a step back but was met with the bar counter. “I didn’t mean—”

“Not me.” Rooster pointed directly at you. “Her.”

He spins around faster toward you than you had seen a person spin in your life. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He looks up to your boyfriend for approval, but Bradley’s eyes locked with yours. You nodded as a signal to your boyfriend that you were okay—things were okay. All you wanted was for this guy to leave and Bradley to be by your side again. It’s all you could think about.

Bradley’s eyes retreated back to the stranger, and you could have sworn that the guy almost flinched. “If I ever see you in here again, I will not hesitate. Do you understand?”

The aviator nods vigorously and tries to ignore the deadly glare from Bradley. His hands picked at his sides in nervousness. “Do you understand?” Bradley repeats.

The aviator’s eyes widened. “Y-Yes. I understand.” 

Bradley’s posture somewhat succeeds back into a relaxed form, his eyes already returning back to you in comfort and warmth. Every tipsy person located in the bar had shouted in celebration for kicking out the guy that ruined all the fun. Coyote and Fanboy unkindly escorted him out of the bar and threw him out onto the sandy beach. “Don’t fucking come here again.”

In the bar, everything and everyone had gone back to normal. People started laughing and smiling once more—shoveling more drinks into their mouths. Some even started racking the balls on the pool table and throwing darts.

For you, though, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bradley. 

He was on you in less than a second, taking two full strides around the bar in desperation. His hands gripped your hips harshly and his lips collided against your own. Your back bumps into the bar, which causes the bottles of booze to rattle against the glass. 

His tongue is shoved into your mouth, and he groans deeply at the taste of beer. His nose harshly bumps against your cheek—messy and harsh with every swallow and molding of your mouth.

You almost whined into him. “Bradley.” Your breath fanned up against his cheeks, and his knees felt so fucking weak for you.

His body starts to sloppily drag you away from the bar and into the back corner of the Hard Deck. His lips never once left yours in a fury to feel you—to be inside of you at any and all cost. His hands make their way down the back of your thighs, and you instinctively jump. Your legs wrap around his torso as he continues to walk backward.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Go fuck like bunnies. I’ll man the bar, I guess.” But there was a hint of a small smile on his face. Finally, you two could cut the shit and fawn over each other once again. 

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Bradley pulls you into the supply closet near the break room at the back of the bar. His back hits one of the shelves, and you could hear the sound of cleaning bottles falling onto the floor. 

Neither of you could stop your fluttering hands that followed each other’s curves. Bradley’s lips trailed down your jaw and neck, which left you breathless and aching for more. Your body feels hot—and elated—from his calloused fingers digging into the flesh on your stomach.

“Bradley, please.” He thinks he knows what you are begging for. He wants to taste you on his tongue. He wants you creaming into his mouth until you’re so dumb that you don’t even remember your own name. 

To his chagrin, though, you stop the trailing hand that is trying to make its way between your thighs. “I wanna taste you, Bradley. I wanna swallow your cum.”

His eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell—” Bradley breathes out, fast and light. He watches you sink down onto your knees and clumsily drag his shorts to pool around his ankles.

You weren’t very graceful from your pure desperation to have his cock in your mouth. Bradley didn’t mind, though. 

His cock jumped from the sight and thought of you in such a state of yearning. “Pretty baby.” He whispered, but it sounded more like a whine. 

Your lips trailed kisses around his thighs. “Do you know how hot it was to see you almost lose your shit on that guy?” Your words slurred together from the intoxication of his broad muscles and lips that were sucked in between his teeth.

You pull down his boxers and almost drool from his ruddy tip dripping in pre-cum. You lightly graze your fingers across his shaft and your mouth waters from his shaft twitching. Your eyes flickered up to see his reaction, his hooded eyes watching you pump his cock.

“You had been watchin’ me all night, Roo. I could feel it.”

He licked his lips. “He-He—” He moans your name. “F-Fuck. He-He can’t take you. I–” God, you’re so hot from your lust-filled eyes racking over his hopelessly hard cock. He withers in your grasp, and he couldn't help but say your name over again. 

“Oh, Roo, no. He can’t take me, hmm?” You hum out the last part of the sentence so your mouth can gravitate to the bulging vein on the side of his cock. “I’m fucking yours, Roo. I’m yours.”

You swirl your tongue and suck your lips around his tip. His hands latch themselves into your hair, and he tugs and tugs. How is he already so close to the edge?

You’re barely touching him, but he feels like he’s on cloud nine, and the knot in his stomach twists and pulls.

“F-Fuck, pretty baby, yeah. You’re mine. You’re mine.” He repeats the saying as his hips involuntarily hump your mouth. You gag around him and his cock shoves further deep into your throat.

You want to guide him to a sweet release for being such a good partner to you. He is yours. He is your Bradley. 

“Oh, fuck–fuck baby, please. My fuckin’ girl—yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He lowly groans out—deep, guttural, and sultry—while his cum paints the inside of your mouth. Thick ropes shoot into your mouth, and the salty taste made you salivate even more. Your eyes watch his hung-open jaw and his eyes trailing down to watch you suck around his cock. 

You swallow all that he has to offer, and you moan out his name while still stuffed with his cock. His eyes widened slightly at the action, and his heart swirled in his chest. How did he get so lucky with you?

You go to stand up and pull his pants back up, but he catches your hands.

“Oh, pretty baby, you aren’t leaving me so soon, are you?” His palm rests below the back of your neck and pulls you into him. His breath fans up against your cheeks, and he presses sweet kisses on your jaw, working his way up to your temple. 

“Roo, if you don’t fuck me right this minute—”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, pretty baby, we’re jus’ getting started.”

[darling-i-read-it]

Burns

Charlie Swan x fem!reader, Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: age gap (for both men, both are legal but carlisle is like 223297493 years old so do with that what you’d like lol), burns (second and first degree), doctors office, me knowing too much about twilight 

Author’s Note: IM WRITING A PART 2 RN BUT WANTED TO SEE IF YOU GUYS LIKED THIS <3 I literally randomly had a burst of inspo to write this and i lowkey love it…

Summary: You’re a waitress at the local diner to pay off tuition in the summer. You have a small crush on the chief of police who comes in to get his coffee from you. You thought that was all it was until you met the resident doctor when you have a mishap and now you’re stuck between two incredibly charming men that both have a little crush on you. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Forks, Washington was under a near constant cover of rain. You were aware of it when you woke up in the morning, prepared to see the dreary weather that greeted you through the window. You could smell the rain on the pavement before it came, see it in the clouds as they hovered above. You were always prepared for it, always ready for it. 

Today, the sun was out. Summer usually calls for something more temperate. You found that those days weren’t necessarily unwelcome, but never your favorite. Everyone went outside when it was sunny. You could see people you hadn’t seen in ages. You never made an effort to see them in the first place for a reason. There was an uncharacteristic amount of skin showing. It may only be mid 70s but everyone suddenly acted like the ocean water was a relief to their burning skin. 

You sweat easily, especially in the diner. The Lodge had little to no air conditioning and the sun brought people in droves. Everyone wanted a bite to eat. They all remembered the diner had milkshakes. It was never a great mix for a waitress. 

You turned the corner on your heel, giving a quaint smile to Cora, your coworker. She looked like she was going to melt away. 

“Do you think anyones gonna leave early today?” she asked quietly behind the counter. You shook your head. She had the coffee pot in her hand and was holding it tightly so it didn’t spill. You looked around the packed diner, laughter bubbling from sections where it normally was silent. You shook your head, giving her a sad look. 

“We’re in for one.” 

“I should’ve called out,” she muttered. “You should’ve called out. This place needs us.” You shook your head. 

“You’ve gotta put food on the table,” you reminded her. She had a kid who was going into middle school. You had met her when Cora brought her in, her headphones stuck in her ears and reading some trashy teen novel. 

“Always the voice of reason,” she muttered. “Plus, you gotta pay tuition.” 

“Don’t remind me.” 

You were going to college in Seattle but always worked the summers back in Forks. You loved the little town despite its insanity. You found that most of it was quiet, even on louder days. Plus, it was always easy to find a job back home. You were practically shoved the waitress apron when you returned this summer. You had been doing it since you graduated high school, always trying to find something to keep yourself occupied. You were coming upon your senior year in college and the extra money helped immensely. 

“Hey, your boyfriends here,” Cora teased. She pushed herself off the counter to refill someone’s coffee cup. You furrowed your brows in confusion even though you knew exactly who she meant. 

You watched as chief of police Charlie Swan walked through the doors with a clink of the bell above his head. He met your eyes and gave you an awkward half wave, which you returned slightly more enthusiastically. He walked up to the counter, squeezing between the people sitting there. Someone said hello to him and he gave them a nod in acknowledgment. 

“You guys are busy today huh?” he questioned, scoffing. 

“Just a bit,” you admitted. His presence never ceased to bring butterflies to your stomach. Maybe you were harboring a small/not so small crush on the sheriff but you tried your best not to show it. You assured Cora it was just something silly for you to feel as you passed through your work day. Still, her eyes lingered on yours as she went around the counter to greet someone else because she knew you were busy. “It’s the sun.” 

“Brings out all the loonies,” he said. 

“I imagine you’re busy out there too.” He was always scanning around to make sure no one was doing anything wrong. His eyes flicked from you to the people beside him, then back to you. 

“Taking my 15.” 

“Just to see lil ol me?” you teased. Even as the words left your mouth you felt self conscious of them. This time though, he gave a half smile. 

“You make the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he promised. You tried not to get flustered. 

“Well, it looks like you need a double today, Sheriff.” 

“Charlie, how many times do I have to tell you?” You rolled your eyes. He leaned against the diner counter even though there were no seats. You turned around, every other table lost in your mind. Cora would help you out until he left.

“Well Charlie, it might be too hot for a hot coffee. You could’ve gone to one of those fancy coffee shops,” you offered, grabbing a coffee pot. 

“Yeah, can you imagine me ordering there? I have a hard enough time with you.” 

“I think I get what you mean by now,” you joked. You poured him a cup and grabbed three sugars and two creams. “Anything else?” 

“You always this quick with your service?” he questioned, looking at the people down the line who hadn’t gotten their food. 

“I’m just the coffee girl with a pretty smile. I don’t control the food orders.” You handed him a stirring stick as he opened his sugar packets. “Plus, you’re the chief of police Charlie. I don’t wanna get arrested.” He chuckled, a real genuine laugh. 

“I think I’ll let you off for this one.” You smiled at your success. The laugh was guaranteed to be the highlight of your shift. 

“Thanks Charlie.” You turned back to the kitchen which was starting to call things out. “Anything else?”

“No ma’am.” He grabbed some cash out of his wallet. “Keep the change.” 

“You’re my favorite customer Charlie,” you joked at his more than generous tip of 100%. He did a little salute with his finger and raised the cup to you. 

“Go do your job otherwise you’re bound to get more angry customers than I am.” 

You nodded once and bowed out of the conversation gracefully. You grabbed the food from behind you and started to bring it out. Cora gave you a look as you passed her, the smile plastered on your face a clear tell of your conversation. 

“Peach cobbler,” you said to one of your regulars. She was a small old lady who always came in on Saturdays, at exactly the same time. You enjoyed talking with her and catching up on her life. She got the same thing each time and the consistency was something you appreciated. “Sorry it’s been slower today Miss. Heidi. The heat has the whole of Forks out!” She shook her head, brushing you off. 

“No worries at all,” she assured you. “It’s not like I’m not gonna come back.” You shared in her shaky laughter. She picked up her fork just as you were about to leave and pointed it at Charlie. “You making heart eyes at the chief over there sweetheart?” You flushed immediately. Maybe you weren’t so great at hiding it. 

“Maybe. But keep your mouth shut Heidi,” you whispered with a smile. She chuckled. Her eyes lingered on Charlie who was finishing his coffee already. He had started a conversation with the man beside him. Charlie seemed to know everyone in town. 

“Aren’t you a little young for him?” You rolled your eyes. 

“It’s perfectly constenting and legal,” you assured her. “I’m plenty older than his daughter if that’s what you’re gonna say.” 

“I was gonna mention.” Her eyes wrinkled at the edges, shaking her head. Her movements didn’t feel like she was disagreeing with you. More so that she was gossiping with a friend, just girls being girls. “He had his heart broken by her mother, you know. He’s a good man.” 

“Is that your consent Heidi? Because I don’t even know if he feels the same way.” Your voice was lighthearted. She grabbed your hand, her saggy skin feeling comforting. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much sweetheart.” You scrunched your face a little and shook off her words. You were still on the clock. 

“Enjoy your peach cobbler Heidi.” 

-

You brushed your hair out of your face. The sun had finally subsided for the evening, giving way for the clouds. You embraced their presence, appreciating the way that the cool air felt on your overworked skin. Cora was still hanging around after her shift, waiting for her husband to come pick her up. You sat on the back steps of The Lodge, watching the trees sway. 

“The air feels so crisp,” you muttered. 

“You say the weirdest things,” she grumbled, laughing. She was leaning against the building. “It’s the trees.” 

“I know.” You were going to leave right after work and finally drive back home but you needed a moment to sit and enjoy the day. It had been a long shift. Cora and you were officially trauma bonded. 

“How was the chief?” 

“Good,” you promised. “Sweet.”

“A guy can be sweet and catch criminals?” 

“He’s assertive,” you argued. When Cora laughed she did it with her whole chest. 

“Honey, you’re down bad.” You rolled your eyes and stood up. Cora’s eyes followed you as you did so, turning back to the door inside the diner. “You’re goin back into that hellhole?” 

“Forgot my phone,” you said. “Also, I am not. It’s a work crush. I’m entitled to one! Just like you like the produce guy!” 

“I do not like the produce guy. I think he’s hot. Big difference!” You rolled your eyes as you opened the door back inside. The heat hit you again, unpleasantly. You had to weave through the cooks to get back to the front. You couldn’t remember when you had put your phone down. You were making a phone call during your break. Maybe you had left it on hte steps outside after all? 

“Hey Jerry?!” you called to the cook in the back.

“What?!” 

“You seen my phone?” 

“No! All I’ve seen are burgers!” You rolled your eyes harder this time and dipped underneath the counter to see if you had put it with the sugars and stuff. You let out an annoyed groan when it wasn’t there. 

You turned too quick and ran right into the closing waitress. She was holding a hot pot of coffee and effectively spilled it all over you. You gasped involuntarily, the feeling of scorching coffee seeping through your clothes. The gasp turned into a seethe as you packed up. You could hear her speaking, the high pitched, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” reverberating off your eardrums. You had dropped coffee on yourself before. All you could think of was that you needed a towel and some cold water. 

You turned on a dime and walked back to the kitchen. You turned on the sink back there and fumbled your hand around for a towel to use. 

“Jerry, towel,” you mumbled, the burning skin now setting into a tingle. He turned his head around and saw you. He started to fumble around. You walked in front of him to grab the towel and just barely lost your balance, causing your hand to fly up onto the table. 

Right onto the stove. 

This time you yelped. The coffee was already forgotten as there was now more of an issue at hand. 

“Woah dollface!” Jerry exclaimed. He grabbed your wrist because you were just staring at your red hand. You had put your entire palm down. You looked up at him, tears staining your eyes from pain, and he brought you over to the sink. 

“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he put it under the cold water. It didn’t subside any pain, just added another sensation. “Jerry that hurts!” 

“Hey Y/N, I have your phone in my apron.” Cora came through the door to witness you breathing heavily next to the sink, Jerry the cook practically holding you down. 

“She burned her hand on the stove,” he explained. 

“She spilled coffee on me,” you blubbered childishly. You could feel all your body parts at once, like you were on fire. You had no brain power to say anything else. 

“Oh Jesus,” Cora muttered. She rushed forward, grabbing your wrist to look at it. “You gotta get this checked out honey.” You gave her a somber looking face. “I know, I know. I’ll take you. Where’s your car keys?” You reached in your apron with your non burnt hand. It was soaking wet from the coffee. 

“Is she okay?” the waitress asked, sticking her head through the window. 

“She burned her hand on the stove,” Jerry said. 

“She what?!” 

Cora put her hand on your back, leading you out the door. You took deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You were fine. You were gonna be fine. 

“I’ll be okay,” you whispered. “You have to g-”

“I’ll have Steven do it,” she said. Her husband. You gave her a look of pure thankfulness as she helped you into the passenger seat of her car. 

“I really don’t have to go to the hospital over this,” you tried to say. 

“I know you don’t. But I think it’s safer than waiting.” You put your head against your headrest. 

-

Cora dragged you by your free arm to the front desk. She was the one who gave your name and your information as you stood beside her, holding your hand. You looked like a mess, given the coffee all over you. You were sure this could all just be fixed by some water and ointment from the store but Cora insisted. 

She rambled on about how a family member hadn’t gone in for a burn and it ended up being more severe then they thought, damaging below the skin. Her words were not comforting. 

Eventually they called you back to be looked at. You sat on an exam table with a thin paper on top. A nurse had come in to check on you and give you something for your hand while you waited for the doctor. 

You were in a row of beds. Cora pulled the curtains aside to give you privacy. 

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you said. 

“They don't get to know all your business. HIPAA or whatever.” You squinted. 

“I don’t think-” 

“Ladies.” Carlisle Cullen stepped through the curtain at the open side. He was holding a clipboard, a charming smile plastered on his face. Your breath hitched at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. “Y/N, I hear you burned your hand.” You nodded. 

“And her chest,” Cora muttered. She must have noticed Carlisle’s looks as well. Or maybe she just noticed your reaction to him. You cleared your throat. 

“I had coffee spilled on me.” 

“No, you should check it out. It’s bad.” You gave a look. Carlisle’s smile remained, shaking his head. You had heard of him but never had a reason to come out and see him. You wouldn’t even call this a valid reason. 

“Sounds like an awful case of bad luck.” You nodded. “Can I take a look?” He sat on a spinny chair and pulled it towards you. You extended your hand to him. 

“I’m gonna go call Steven,” she said to you. You nodded. She patted your back, her eyes lingering on your doctor even as she left. Carlisle held your hand in his, gently looking it over. You looked down at him. 

“A stove did this?” 

“Yeah. It was dumb,” you promised. “I lost my balance looking for a rag for the coffee burn.” 

“And that’s okay?” You nodded. 

“I think. I mean, my hand feels way worse,” you assured him. 

“Your friend seems to think otherwise.” 

“Cora’s dramatic by nature.” He laughed gently. 

“Well the stove fought back.” He wheeled backwards towards the table beside your bed. “It looks like second degree burns on your hand. I’ll send you home with some ointment for it and you’ll wanna wrap it up so that you don’t get it caught on your clothes or anything.” You nodded. “I’ll wrap it for you first, show you how to do it.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course.” He stood up and fumbled in the desks drawer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check on the coffee burns?” He glanced back at you. You looked down at your shirt. It had mostly gotten your stomach. You could still feel pain there, probably driven by the fact you never got to clean it off. 

“If you think it’ll help?”

“Stomach burns are interesting just because of their placement. It’s harder to wrap them. I think it would be beneficial for me to make sure they’re only first degree, if anything.” You nodded. You would listen to him read the phone book. 

“Okay.” He walked back over. Before even touching your shirt he made eye contact with you. 

“Only if you’re comfortable. I can wait till your friend comes back if you want me to.” You shook your head. 

“I’m okay!” you promised. You cleared your throat and grabbed the hem of your shirt. You carefully lifted it up over your torso, holding it just above the wet spot. Carlisle’s eyes went down to your body. 

“You said the hand hurt more?”

“By far.” 

“Can I touch you?” Please. You cleared your throat again. 

“Sure.” He put an icy hand on your hip, lightly brushing your burn with his thumb. 

“How much does that hurt? Scale one to ten?” 

“Five.” He applied more pressure. 

“Now?” 

“Seven. Your hands are really cold, which could be worsening the effects,” you joked. He chuckled, his lips turning up a bit. 

“Sorry about that.” He backed up a bit. You put your shirt back down. “Those are first degree burns. It only hit in some spots. Should feel numb or touchy for a couple days. You can put the ointment there too but you shouldn’t have to wrap it up.”

“The hand needs it.”

“The hand needs it,” he agreed. He had put some stuff on the counter, which he now took in his hands. He squeezed something out a bottle and put a bit of it on his finger, taking your hand back in his. “Let me know if the pressure is too much.” 

You watched him, your free hands fingers curled under the bed you were sitting on. He gently covered your hand, using such a light touch that it was like he was barely there. 

“You’re good at this.” 

“It’s my job,” he said, smiling. “Are you from out of town? I don’t think I’ve had you in here before.” 

“Just lucky,” you quipped. “I go to college in Seattle too so I’m usually out there.” He nodded slowly. 

“Fancy.”

“The drive back is beautiful.” He nodded slowly. His hand lingered on yours as he examined his work. “So is this town.” 

“Do you work at the diner?”

“Yeah! That’s where I got this beauty.” He scooted back, grabbing the bandages.

“I think my son’s seen you there. He’s graduating high school in a year and likes his seclusion,” he explained. 

“Son?” you asked. 

“Edward.” 

“No, I’m just stunned you have a child. You look far too young,” you said, laughing incredibly. He grinned sheepishly. You tried not to think of him being married or the lack of ring on his finger. 

“He’s technically my foster son,” he described. 

“I see. Do you do it all on your own?” You winced. That was aggressive. “I don’t mean to pry.” “It’s alright,” he said, shaking his head, completely cool. “Yes, they’re all under my care. I haven’t found the right one quite yet. Plus, she’d have to take on more than a couple stragglers with me.” His eyes flicked up to yours. They met for a moment longer than they should have. You had to look away. 

“Sounds like a task.” 

“It’s definitely not for everyone.” He tightened your bandage. “There. I’ll send you home with some of this, it’ll be sent to wherever you get your prescriptions.” He stepped back from you. “Try to be careful around stoves next time.”

“Yes sir.” He gave you one more look, a kind hearted smile and then was on his way. You followed him until he was gone out of view. You were glad he hadn’t checked your pulse because you were sure it was beating out of your chest. Cora came around the corner. 

“He’s too old for you too,” she said. You laughed dryly, shaking your head. You could practically still feel his touch on your hand. So gentle. 

“You’ll learn to get used to it,” you teased her. She rolled her eyes. “Were you waiting out there the whole time?” 

“Wanted to give you and Doctor Dreamy some alone time.” 

“You’re such a wingwoman!” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the Sheriff.” 

Part 2

[turtletaubwrites]

Sweet Abduction ~ Part 1

Thank you anon for this super cute request! I loved the idea, and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Pairings: Charlotte Katakuri x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4084

Ao3 Link

Summary: Times are tough, and you're afraid you'll have to give up the family business, until you find people who cherish your work. Who knew making doughnuts would gain you the attention of an Emperor of the Sea, and her second son? Will your new life be as sweet as it seemed?

Rating/Warnings: SFW, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Grief, (reader's dad has passed and she thinks about him a lot), Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Kidnapping, Minor Violence (hardly anything, just being grabbed by the arms briefly), Kissing, No Smut, Human/Monster Romance, He's freaking 16 ft tall, Reader is too sweet for this world

A/N: Turns out Katakuri is over 16 ft tall. I stuck with canon, hope you don't mind! Please heed the tags! This is very sweet romance type fluff, but there is some kidnapping and shit, so be wary 😅

Your body naturally woke you in the quiet, early morning light, but you still felt like you were in a bad dream.

After all your years of struggling to get by, of trying to make a living off the only skills you had, you still had nothing. You had kept your dad’s shop running, learning all you could, trying to honor his memory. But now that he’s gone, prepping these early mornings alone felt like losing him all over again.

Especially since hardly anyone in this town could afford to waste their berries on sweets.

Even buying ingredients for one day's batch was brutal.

I’m sorry, dad. I don’t want to sell your shop. Please, I wish you were here to tell me what to do.

You blinked back your tears as you started frying the morning's first batch of doughnuts.

Falling into your rhythm, you glazed and displayed each doughnut with care. Still taking pride in your work, you treated each pastry with love, even though they would probably be wasted. 

You gave a little yelp as the tiny bell on the shop’s door chimed.

Your mouth hung wide as you looked at the two potential customers. Shaking yourself, you greeted them, turning on your customer service charm.

‘The best way to keep a customer is to show them you really care.’

Your dad’s sweet voice filled your mind, and you smiled, genuinely hoping that these people would have a wonderful day. And that if they tried your doughnuts, it might make their day even brighter. 

The two strangers made their way to the display case, reviewing the little menu above the counter, and they asked you detailed questions that surprised you. 

You had been too busy trying to make sense of the colorful, almost outrageous way they dressed, that it took you a second to realize how excited they seemed to be here. 

They can’t be from around here. Everyone here is too poor to be that colorful.

You pinched your wrist at the sour thought, reminding yourself of your dad’s view of the world. He’d tell you to focus on the good things happening right now.

The two customers ordered four doughnuts each, and you carried their plates to the dingy little table in the corner, filling their cups with coffee.

The urge to stare was almost too powerful. It had been so long since someone new came to enjoy your work. 

They smacked their lips, and licked their fingers, and their bright eyes warmed your heart. 

‘There’s nothing better than watching someone enjoy the work you put your heart into.’ 

You cleared your throat, turning away from them as you wiped away a tear at your dad’s words in your mind.

“Ooh, Mama’s gonna enjoy this,” the taller one hissed in a mock whisper.

“Excuse me,” the other patron called, waving you over. 

You wiped flour off your hands, grabbing the pot of coffee. You felt their eyes on you, feeling examined as you refilled their cups.

“Is there anythi–”

“How would you like a sponsorship to open a shop in the sweetest capital of the world?”

“... I’m sorry. What did you–”

The tall one grabbed your wrist, eyes almost manic as he leaned toward you.

“We’re scouts, you see. We’re from Totto Land, and we’ve been looking for someone with your talents. Everything will be taken care of. We already have a doughnut shop that's just waiting for an artist like you.”

Your eyes were so wide it was almost painful, and part of you told you to run from these strangers. 

‘Don’t fight miracles, sweetheart. Sometimes good people really do get good things.’

“Okay,” you stuttered, following your dad’s advice one more time. 

~ 

You had heard the name Big Mom before, seen her wanted poster. She didn’t seem like a real person when you were struggling in your run down town. 

And you thought that Emperors of the Sea were meant to be terrifying, almost demonic. 

But here you were on her archipelago, her myriad of islands filled with so many happy people. So many people who love what you do.

It's surreal! 

You’d been given a doughnut shop on Komugi Island, along with a beautiful apartment above the shop. You wanted to explore and meet people, but you couldn’t think of closing the shop for even a day. 

All the ingredients you could dream of, equipment that you’d never seen before, and a dining area inside and outside with plenty of tables so you could enjoy the happy noises people made when they ate your doughnuts and pastries. 

It was heaven. It felt like your dad was there with you, kneading the dough, pouring the coffee. You could almost hear his laugh, his silly songs that he used to hum.

It felt like home.

After a few days, you noticed that the shop cleared out a little before lunchtime. You had been having a steady stream of customers all day since the day you opened, but now it was empty. You tried to remind yourself that things wouldn’t always be that busy, and that it didn’t mean anything.

I guess I’m just worried, dad. I want to do well here. I want to stay.

You had a pile of plates in one hand as you wiped down a table outside.

“Good afternoon,” boomed a deep voice from above, and your ankle shifted against the stone tiles.

You were slipping, trying and failing to keep a grip on the porcelain plates.

Then a huge, warm hand held you steady, and your mouth gaped at the sight of another gloved hand catching the plates before they fell.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, heart racing.

Shifting away to look at your new patron, you steadied yourself, pressing your palm against the warmth beside you.

Your breath hitched as your hand touched firm leather. You stumbled back a step, and he grabbed your shoulder to steady you, before setting the dishes on the table, and towering over you.

“I apologize. I should have waited until you set down the plates.”

The deep, measured voice made you shiver as you looked up at the man it belonged to. 

He was so tall. Insanely tall.

Is he a giant?

He sat down beside the shop on what you just now realized was a bench, made for someone his size.

Realizing how rude you were being, you cleared your throat, giving him a smile.

“No need to apologize. Thank you so much for saving my plates!”

You dipped your head, letting your eyes go wide as you looked at the ground after getting a better look at him. 

He had deep crimson hair, with eyes to match. Those intense eyes were framed with arched brows, and eyelashes so dark and thick that you could see them from where you were.

You brought your head back up to meet those eyes, and you bobbed on your toes as you tried not to gape at the rest of him. 

You’d never seen anyone like him before. He wore a layered scarf that draped around his shoulders, covering his neck, and the lower half of his face. 

Below the scarf was an expanse of muscle, pink tattoos accentuating his chiseled abs. His leather vest covered nothing, but it matched the leather across the rest of his body, belts, straps, and spikes giving you so much to look at.

Then you looked back at his eyes, and realized you’d been staring.

“I–I am so sorry. I’m new here, and my head is a little off still. Would you like me to bring you a menu?”

He hardly spoke while he was there, but his gaze felt heavy and warm. Thankfully, no one else came by to witness you making a fool out of yourself. 

He made a huge order, and you packed three large boxes to the brim.

Your dad would have been so happy in that moment. You could picture his smile. Practically hear his voice.

‘Look, sweetheart. Your love is gonna touch all those people that eat your sweets. Isn’t that just lovely?’

“Are you afraid?”

“What,” you choked out, quickly brushing a tear from your eye as you thought of your father.

He’d taken the boxes from you after paying, but now his brows were furrowed as he looked down at you.

“Oh my– oh no! I’m sorry,” you panicked, realizing what he meant.

“I wasn’t crying because of– I was just thinking about my dad. He would have been really happy with your order. You picked all his favorites!”

He stiffened, one of his gloved hands flexing on his knee.

Clearing his throat, he stood, his height leaving you speechless again. 

“Thank you, miss. Have a pleasant day.”

“... Th-Thank you! Please, come again soon!”

You were waving at his back, and he froze for a moment at your words. But he kept walking, finally leaving your sight. 

Slumping into one of the chairs, you felt the blood rushing through your body, your head feeling fuzzy after all of that. 

Then a line of customers started trickling back in, and you poured yourself into work. 

What an interesting place this is. 

~

He came back again. And again. And you always forgot to ask for his name. 

He never said much. He always ordered at least three boxes. And you always spaced out as you stared at him at least once before he left. 

Luckily he always seemed to come during a slow hour, catching you cleaning with no other customers to attend to.

You wanted to ask if he liked them. If he liked your dad’s favorite recipes. It seemed like a silly question, since he ordered so many every time.

But you liked his voice, and you thought it would sound really nice if he said it. 

You caught yourself grinning in the mirror at the thought as you got ready for the day.

I think I like it here.

“Good morning, miss Y/N!”

You had just stepped downstairs, morning light still not quite touching the world, but your shop was full of people.

“I… I’m sorry. The shop’s not open yet. But I’m happy to share my pot of coffee with you if you’re willing to wait on the doughnuts!”

You felt extra grateful that you’d dressed for the day before coming downstairs.

“Thank you dear, but you’ll be coming with us.”

A tall, thin woman moved toward you, a rough scar bisecting her face, and you clenched your fist to stop yourself from recoiling. It was too damn early for someone who looked like a gnarled old witch to break in and threaten you.

Is she threatening me?

“Sorry, uh,” you said awkwardly as you moved behind the counter. “I’ve got a lot of doughnuts to get started for the day.”

“Not today, sweetie,” the witch-like woman said, her reddish nose bobbing as she shook her head.

“I don’t– Did I do something wrong?”

You shrank back against the wall as guards moved against you, gripping your arms.

“Not at all,” the woman nearly shrieked, failing to sound comforting. “In fact, you are being granted the highest of honors. You are about to become part of Big Mom’s family!”

You had been squirming only slightly, not really fighting against the men holding and moving you. But now you slumped, confusion hurting your brain too much to keep steady.

“What do you mean? What’s happening,” you asked, panic building in your throat the closer they got you to the door. 

“You have been chosen to wed the shining star of the Charlotte family. Our strongest warrior, a man whose back has never touched the ground. My perfect big brother, Charlotte Katakuri!”

Your mouth hung open as she continued, her voice manic, louder with each word. She may as well have been speaking another language. 

She pointed a long, twig-like arm at you, and you tried to clear your head to understand.

“You can call me Brulee, sister in law. Tomorrow you will become Charlotte Y/N.” 

You stood, frozen and dizzy.

“Come now, lots to do, sister,” she tutted, snapping her fingers.

“But why? Why me?”

She reared on you, her red nose inches from yours.

“You’re special, of course. You were chosen. And you’d better learn not to question Mama.”

“Please,” you pleaded, twisting against the guard's hold. “I don’t–”

“Don’t question mama! And don’t even think about refusing her.”

The guards tightened their grip, leading you toward the door.

“Wait!”

“Don’t res—”

“Please change the sign! Please let my customers know I’ll be gone, I don’t want them to wait out there for me.”

Brulee frowned at you, but had one of the guards write a note, hanging it on the door.

“Thank you,” you sighed with relief, giving her a grateful smile.

She frowned again.

You didn’t resist, and the guards let you walk freely. You felt the stares of citizens on you, and watched a group of onlookers waving as the ship departed for the main island. 

Whole Cake Island. 

It was incredible. The sounds, the colors, the smells! Excited locals rushing around, as if preparing for something big. 

Like a wedding.

Brulee spent the travel time regaling you with stories of her brother. 

The second son of the Big Mom Pirates. One of the Three Sweet Commanders. The Minister of Flour who governs over your new home, Komugi Island.

“When he was born he stood straight up, and slept on a chair. His back has never touched the ground. He’s never laid down, and never been knocked down either.”

“That sounds tiring,” you muttered under your breath, but she turned, grasping your wrist.

“Not to my brother. He’s more than strong. He’s superhuman. He’s noble, and cool-headed. And you are going to be the perfect wife for my perfect brother. Got it?”

“I-I got it.”

She released your arm, and you tried to fight your nerves, but you couldn’t stop shaking. 

You were led through a massive castle that looked like, or was it a cake? The ceilings were so massive, you had to crane your neck to see them.

Brulee left the guards outside, leading you into a gorgeous bedroom, with an extravagant bathroom, and at least ten servants carrying all sorts of fabrics, powders, shoes, and more. 

You felt like you were in a whirlwind, just staying still and letting these strangers touch you, pamper you, fit the white dress to your body.

Now and then you’d pay attention to what they were saying between their giggles and demands. 

“She’s so lucky.” 

“I wish I could join the family.”

“I wonder if his children will be as perfect as he is?”

Finally, you were freed from their hands. Dinner was brought to your guarded room, and you watched the night fall.

You curled up in the luxurious bed, and sobbed silently. You caught yourself whispering under the blankets, eyes burning as you tried to make sense of it all.

“Dad, I’m sorry. I’m trying to see the good here. But I’m scared. I love this place. I love making people smile. But what if this man… What if my husband is a bad person? What if he’s mean? What if he doesn’t like me?”

Visions of terror filled your mind. If they could kidnap you for this, could they really be good people? This land seems so happy and prosperous, could this marriage be a good thing?

“Is this a miracle, dad? Should I let it happen, and hope for the best?” 

“Will they kill me if I try to run?” 

“I’m scared, dad. I wish you were here.”

Finally, your quiet sobs fell into slow breaths as sleep pulled you under.

Morning arrived, and the servants were buzzing with excitement as they prepared you for the wedding. You felt empty, hollow. They kept pinching your cheeks lightly, trying to wake you up, to convince you to be happy.

All you could manage was a weak smile as you looked at your reflection.

“You look beautiful, sister,” Brulee praised, patting your hand. “It’s almost time.”

She led you to a massive stone room, guiding you to a small bench before leaning over you. 

“Just wait here. It won't be long.”

She left, and you didn't turn to watch her go. You thought about running. There were no guards in this chamber. 

You bit your lip to keep from crying, afraid of what might happen to you if you ruined your makeup.

“Y/N…”

A choked gasp left your throat as you turned, looking for the owner of that deep voice.

Your favorite customer was there, his height looking almost normal in this massive room. He sat along the wall on a giant bench, leaning toward you.

“Oh, hello,” you practically squeaked, throat caught with unshed tears. “What are you doing here? I’m sorry I couldn’t make your order today!”

“Please,” he stopped you, holding out his gloved hands. You blinked at him, noticing that his normally black attire was white, somehow making his hair and tattoos stand out even more.

“What are you…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have let this happen.” 

“Let what happen,” you asked, your mind moving so fast it felt like it was tripping over itself. You stood without meaning to, walking closer.

“You were brought to my island as a gift. For me.”

His dark eyes poured over you as you stood, silently waiting.

“I shouldn’t have told mama that I liked you. I tried to convince her to stop, but there’s no way to stop this without violence now. And I cannot hurt my family.”

Violence? 

Your heart beat in your chest like a bird, wings flapping desperately to escape a cage. 

“Mama is a decisive woman. When she makes her mind up on something, it will happen. I am usually the one to make it happen. Most of my siblings have their marriages arranged. I didn't…”

Regret tinged his voice, and you met his eyes.

“Why me?”

He looked away, sighing as he leaned back against the wall.

“My siblings brought you to my island because they thought I would enjoy your doughnuts. I happened to mention how much I’ve enjoyed your work, and your… company. So Mama has decided that you’ll be joining the family. That you and I will marry. In less than an hour.”

You’d never heard him say so many words at once, and his voice rolled over you while you tried to comprehend everything. Your mouth hung open as you stared at him.

“You must be frightened.”

He shifted on the bench, looking almost uncomfortable before he caught himself. He adjusted the movement, making it look deliberate. But you noticed.

He’s just a person.

“I think having a first date might have been nice,” you teased with a small smile. 

He stared down at you for a long moment, before his brows furrowed.

“You shouldn’t have to marry a monster.” 

“What do you mean,” you questioned, starting to feel lightheaded from everything.

“When we kiss, it will be over…”

“We’ll be married?” 

“No.”

You hadn’t thought his eyes could get any more intense, but they sure did. You stood, still as a statue, waiting for him to explain. 

“There’s something I have to show you.” 

Katakuri unraveled his scarf, slowly revealing the lower half of his face.

Your eyes went wide at the sight of his large mouth, scars stretching from ear to ear. Sharp teeth or fangs jutted out at the edges of his lips. 

Your first thought was that he did look like a monster.

‘You can’t tell somebody’s heart from the outside, sweetheart. Always give people a chance.’

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, after you stood there too long, thinking of your dad’s voice.

You watched those huge hands start to drape the scarf, looking away from you as he covered his scars.

“Wait,” you commanded, voice almost too loud in the echoing room. You reached up to put your hand on his knee, shoving aside a brief thought about how things would work with his height.

“Will you be kind to me?” 

He paused his movements, face still uncovered. Your whole body rolled with warm shivers as he laid his hand on yours.

“I will be kind to you. And I will protect you.” 

“And you’ll tell me how much you like my doughnuts?”

An almost surprised huff left him, and you were pleasantly shocked to see his wide lips twitch up, a hint of a smile there. 

“I love your doughnuts. They make me very happy.” 

Your toes curled in your shoes as you grinned up at him

“Okay,” you nodded, dread shifting to excitement. “I guess we’re getting married then? Please, promise to be kind.” 

“I promise,” he agreed, head tilted as he looked at you, before wrapping his scarf back around. 

You were practically bouncing on your feet now, and your words came out high and fast.

“So, your name is Katakuri?”

“Yes.”

“Is it true you never lie on your back?”

“We’ll learn a lot of interesting things about each other later,” he promised, voice low as he patted you on the head.

“Right now we have somewhere to be.”

There were so many people. So much food, so many sweets. 

Big Mom was enormous, even taller than Katakuri. All of her children looked so different, so interesting. 

Everyone seemed happy.

I’ll choose to be happy too, dad. I just wish you were here with me.

The ceremony and vows flew by, and luckily you remembered what to say. Then the end arrived, and you realized that you didn’t know what to do.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may start your marriage with a kiss!”

How am I supposed to kiss him?

Your question was answered as his large hand scooped down beside you. Looking into his face, you could have sworn he was smiling by the slight crinkling of his eyes.

A giggle left your lips as you nodded, and you gasped as he grabbed you gently around the waist, lifting you up.

You heard the cheers of his family as he turned away from the crowd, keeping his face from their sight.

“I am sorry, Y/N.”

His whisper made your heart ache for this strange man. He seemed so lonely, even with all of his family looking up to him. 

Maybe neither of us have to be lonely anymore.

You touched a hand to his cheekbone, and he seemed to freeze.

“Don’t be sorry, Katakuri. Let’s just be good to each other.”

You felt a hum move through him before he carefully pulled his scarf down, just enough, just for you.

He’s so big!

That thought hit you again, but you’d already decided. You were already his. You leaned forward, and kissed him between the sharp fangs at the edges of his mouth.

His lips were warm, and soft, and sweet.

You let out a hum of contentment, wiggling slightly in his grasp. He pulled back, covering his face, then he stared at you. 

“Hi,” you said softly, feeling your skin flush as you felt suddenly shy.

“Oh mama, mama,” Big Mom laughed, making him turn to face the party.

“My family is getting bigger and bigger! What a wonderful day. Let’s start with the cake!”

~

Katakuri didn’t join in on the fun, sitting on the edge as if keeping watch over his own wedding. Everytime you tried to talk to him, new in-laws would drag you away, light conversations and laughter hogging the day. 

Finally, you were ushered away, waving back at the crowd as your husband joined you. 

Instead of a carriage, you were carried away from your wedding on Katakuri’s shoulder, adjusting the scarf so that it would stay in place. 

A procession of onlookers applauded, calling his name. You even heard your own name once or twice. It felt like the entire island was cheering for you, and you were caught in the chaos of a world you never could have imagined. 

Your mind started racing as the wedding was over, the real world starting to return. A million questions tore through you, and you didn’t know where to start, until one came tumbling out.

“How are we going to sleep if you never lay on your back?”

He let out a sound that could have been a laugh as he kept moving toward your new home. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll show you.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Once again, I'm so happy to take requests! I probably wouldn't have thought to write for this big guy, but now I love this lil doughnut man. He's so sweet 😭😭 (Let me know if I should write the honeymoon... 😳)

Tag List: @shewrites02

Part 2

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[reve-writes]

—bejeweled; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,2k words. ʚ from this ask. | dating kaz brekker, and he gifts you jewelry as trinkets like the crow he is. ʚ established relationship; crow club drinking. ʚ a/n i love this idea so much! i'm sorry if it's rushed or slightly off. thank you for reading!

It started out small. Kaz had a ring he looped through a silver rolo chain necklace that he wore, tucked under his shirt, until one day it wasn't there anymore. The ring was a simple silver thin band with the letter R carved into the inside of it. It was a barely noticeable part of his get up, but Inej, the sharp-eyed wraith, noticed the lack of shining silver chain under his collar.

“Did you lose your necklace?” Inej asked, settling into the barstool next to him in the Crow Club. Kaz looked up from his glass, acknowledging her with a brief glance from under his hat.

“No,” he replied, not elaborating any further. Kaz Brekker couldn't help the way his eyes fall onto you as you sat at one of the tables with Jesper and Wylan. You laughed, throwing down your hand of five cards victoriously. His eyes caught the glimpse of silver around your left middle finger. A ring. His ring.

An involuntary smile crept onto his lips. It vanished within a second, as if it had never been there in the first place.

You turned your head, catching his stare before you sauntered over towards him. Kaz didn't say a word, turning to the back door of the club that led to a mostly deserted alley, hoping you would get the hint to trail after him.

The door clicked shut behind him, but not three seconds passed, it swung open again. You stood there, grinning smugly towards him.

“If I didn't know any better, I might start thinking that you missed me,” you said, brushing some lint off of his collar.

His gloved hand caught yours, holding it in place as you tilted your head to look at him. “I thought it was the other way around.”

He smoothed out your palm, pressing the back of your hand to his lips briefly. When he pulled away, he was twirling the ring around your finger. It was intimate—the ring was his and it was on you. You were his, as scary as the thought was to him, he liked it just as much.

Next, it was an ankle bracelet. A small little thing, usually tucked safely inside the neck of your boots. Then, eventually he started bringing whatever jewelry he found his hands on.

Your last job was for a painting—expensive, six digits in Kruge, and it went mostly smooth-sailing, other than a couple of close calls. Everyone was safe, celebrating at the Crow Club. Drinking, dancing and laughing like there was no tomorrow. The ever-brooding Dirtyhands seemed to be in a lighter mood as well.

You danced to the music, trotting towards the Bar for a refill. His eyes trailed after you, trying to catch your glance. When he locked eyes with you, his head tilted slightly to the back door. His gloved hand definitely pulled another card from his sleeves and he revealed his hand on the gambling table. Sly cheater.

Jesper groaned loudly. “Kaz wins? Again?!”

Nina laughed merrily, leaning on Matthias' shoulder as she shuffled the deck again.

Kaz stood up as you were already closing the door behind you.

“I need a drink,” said Kaz. The rest of the table did not question him as they were already starting another round, this time with Wylan as a challenger.

Kaz was out the door in seconds.

“Seems our rendezvous is compromised, Brekker,” you said when the door clicked shut behind him. You gestured to a drunken man, passed out by the door, snoring loudly.

His nose scrunched up in disgust, noticing the putrid smell of alcohol and puke. “I wanted to give you this.”

Like a magician, he pulled a string of chain necklace out of thin air. Kaz and his sleight of hand was something you found extremely endearing.

“You took it from the house.” Your eyes widened, noticing the intricately-shaped charm of the necklace. It was the silhouette of a crow. You mentioned it to him in passing as you looked around the room where you were taking the painting from.

“It's yours.”

You let him hook the necklace around your neck, noticing the way his fingers brushed against your nape longer than it should have.

“Thank you, Kaz,” you muttered, taking his hand with both of yours, pressing it to the side of your face. You leaned into the leather, closing your eyes.

The next time it was more noticable, a bright ruby ring, occupying your pointer finger. It was a small band, but the red stood out extremely against the silver. Your last job was at a pawn shop that belonged to a swindler that you were paid to intimidate into returning the money they had scammed out of your client. As part of it, you were to conduct a robbery of sorts. You were allowed to keep your loot on top of your payment. It was an easy deal to take.

You arrived at the shop just a bell past midnight. Jesper had already snatched a couple of vintage cufflinks for himself. Inej didn't mind swiping a knife or two from the extensive collection. Wylan was fixated on a small, bronze clock. Matthias was shifting through fur jackets being hanged by the door.

Nina gasped when she opened the box of jewelry. It was filled with various stones on different ring bands. There was a mix of earrings, necklaces and bracelets, too, but everyone was eyeing the ruby. It was practically shining.

“That is stunning,” said Jesper, already moving to grab it from Nina's grasp.

Before Jesper could take it, Kaz's gloved fingers closed over it. He tucked it into the pocket of his vest. “That is mine.”

Everyone let out a noise of disagreement, but relented anyway. However, it created quite the scandal when you headed down for breakfast and the ring was adorning your ring finger.

Wylan was the first to notice the bright red stone. His jaw dropped, trailing after the clueless you, who was almost on auto-pilot as you buttered a piece of bread and bit into it.

Wylan tugged on Jesper's hand, pointing at your finger. Jesper let out a conspiratory gasp, which alerted Nina and Matthias. Inej, who was blowing on her cup of tea, looked up as well. Kaz was nowhere to be seen yet.

“Morning, everyone,” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep off of your eyes. You were taken aback by everyone's bewildered reaction. “Are you okay? Is there something wrong with me?”

Self-consciously, you started smoothing out your hair and tugged on the collar of your shirt.

“Oh, you're fine,” Jesper said. “We just can't help but be curious of the ring.”

In your sleepy haze, you shrugged. “A gift from Kaz.”

As if on cue, Kaz walked down the stairs. Everyone's gaze turned on him simultaneously.

“He gifted it to you?” Asked Matthias, tilting his head inquisitively.

Kaz, with his usual scowl, asked back, “What are you all on about?”

“Everything made sense!” yelled Nina. “Matthias, I told you about the changes in Kaz's heartrate—”

“—or the way he sometimes disappears—” said Wylan.

Jesper chided in, “—and he's never cared for jewelry before, but lately he's been taking souvenirs back—”

“—and he's been giving them to ___,” concluded Inej.

“Well done,” said Kaz uninterestedly. “Astute observations.”

He brushed past you, taking a bite out of your buttered bread as he did. “Good morning.”

It was safe to say that the rest of the day was filled with inquiries by everyone else. Kaz wanted no part in it, leaving you to deal with the barrage of questions from how and when and all the sorts. You swore you'd have a couple of words for Kaz by the end of the day.

[ ]

[chvoswxtch]

Court baby i've waiting for this moment! I have this idea for a fic living rent free in my head. Its Frank x fem!reader. They were in a very cozy and confy moment when the snap happened and reader was blipped! You could write how Frank deald with those five years and with reader coming back. With a lot of angst moments and flufly and maybe spicy after she comes back. I would love if you accept this request! Thank you, I love you ❤️

i'm not gonna lie to you, the blip is my least favorite marvel storyline, but I love you so I put myself and frank through it just for you 🖤

I would say sorry that i'm about to emotionally wreck you but in my defense, you did ask for this so...enjoy or don't

warning: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, guns, & alcohol, heavy angst, very brief allusion to suicide (blink and you miss it) word count: 4.1k

the blip.

A split second. That’s how quickly Frank lost you. He turned his back for a second to refill his mug of coffee, and when he turned back around, you had vanished seemingly into thin air. At first he thought maybe you had gone back into the bedroom to grab a sweater or something. It had been a bit chilly in the kitchen, and you were always cold. But then a few seconds turned into a few minutes, and Frank didn’t hear any shuffling or soft footsteps. He didn’t hear anything at all. The crisp silence had an icy sense of dread trickling down his spine, and when he didn’t hear your sweet voice responding to his cautious calls of your name, he went into a full blown panic.

You were gone.

Year One.

This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t be. There was no way he had survived losing Maria and the kids just to find you, to let your endless patience and irrevocable empathy fill the gaping void in his chest, only to lose you too. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Frank didn’t consider himself a good man; he was well aware of and acquainted with his demons. But he didn’t deserve this.

Did he?

It was forty-eight hours before anyone even knew what happened. One giant asshole snapped his fingers, and half the universe’s population ceased to exist. Frank had stopped believing in God a lifetime ago, and he certainly didn’t believe in aliens or otherworldly creatures. He had seen first hand during his time in the Marines that mankind was the real monster. But it didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in it, because it happened, and not even the fucking Avengers could stop it. Hell, half of them were gone too.

Two weeks after the snap, news broke that Thanos had been killed, and that the Infinity Stones were destroyed, but the remaining members of the Avengers were trying to come up with a way to bring everyone back. For months Frank was glued to every news outlet, frantically waiting for even the smallest of updates. Anything was something. He refused to believe that the snap was permanent. The Avengers were going to find a way to bring everyone back. They had to. 

Your pillowcase had stopped smelling like your shampoo, and Frank found himself using it and your body wash just to keep your scent on the sheets. He burned your favorite candles and read your favorite books. He wouldn’t stay gone longer than fifteen minutes in case you finally came home. He wanted to be there when you did. Frank kept himself busy with little projects around the house, things that you had mentioned changing or updating that he had promised he would get around to and never did. Frank swore to himself when you came home, things would be different. 

He would take that trip you wanted to go on. He’d take you to the shelter to pick out a dog like you had been talking about. Maybe you two would finally start a family. Whatever you wanted, he’d give you. He’d find a way to give you the goddamn moon and every single star in the sky if you wanted them. 

As soon as you came home.

But then a year went by, and nothing had changed. The anniversary of the snap came and went, and everyone seemed to give up hope on bringing everyone back, or they just decided to move on and accept that no one was coming back.

But Frank couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe you were really gone.

Year Two.

The worst part about the snap was that Frank couldn’t collect his vengeance in blood like he had with his family. The one who took you from him was already dead, and even if he hadn’t been, Frank had no way of reaching him. Thanos was a Titan, someone who was revered as a God to those that followed him, and Frank was just a man. A man poisoned with rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. So, he did what he was good at. He punished. Even though half the universe’s population was gone, that didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters left on Earth.

Frank killed without mercy or prejudice. There was no sin too harmless for his wrath. His fists collided with skin and bone until there was nothing left but ivory fragments tainted crimson and torn flesh. He didn’t stop, not even when his destructive blows caused his own knuckles to crack. It had gotten to the point where he hardly reached for a gun anymore unless he absolutely had to. He preferred to use his hands or serrated steel. He wanted to inflict every ounce of pain that he felt inside on whoever was stupid enough to get in his way.

It was like he wasn’t even mentally present anymore. His conscience had been shut off somehow, and all that was left was a relentless killing machine. Whenever he ran out of targets in the city, he moved on to hunt in the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He lived primarily out of his van, or whatever dingy motel he came across on the road. He hadn’t stepped foot in your home in almost a year. He couldn’t. It was haunted by your memory, and he couldn’t desecrate the home you two had made together with what he had become.

You would be ashamed of him. You would be disgusted and horrified by the things he had done. That thought echoed in his head as he watched the water continue to run red while he stood under the weak spray of the shower head. He didn’t know what town or even what state he was in. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, or what month it was. He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were gone, and he had nothing left.

Nothing left but the white hot fury that infected his veins and had him seeking out blood like water in the desert.

Year Three.

Frank couldn’t visit you, not like he could Maria and the kids. He couldn’t even have the closure of burying you, because there wasn’t a body. There was no final resting place for you, and he didn’t think that was fucking fair. Today was your birthday, and Frank had been drowning himself in whiskey trying to dilute the painful memories that played in his head like a haunting home movie. 

The angelic sound of your voice as you read him whatever book your nose was buried in that week, your fingers slipping through his dark tresses while he laid his head on your chest and listened in pure content. The feeling of your soft lips on his heated skin and delicate noises of pleasure as your bodies connected like they were made for each other. Your melodic laughter, the silkiness of your skin, slow dancing in the living room with the moon acting as a spotlight. 

All the words he never said. All the promises he didn’t get to keep. All the dreams that wouldn’t come true.

Somehow Frank found himself in a church. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in one. Maybe it was Sunday school back when his parents still forced him to go. He had stumbled in, his heavy boots thudding along the aisle, the only other sound coming from the amber liquid sloshing around in the half empty bottle in his hand. He stopped when he got to the front, looking up at the stained glass depictions of angels, until his weary eyes landed on the savior that was nailed to the giant cross.

Frank glared at him for several minutes before hurling the half empty bottle right at the head of the statue, causing a firework explosion of shimmering shards of glass to rain over the altar and various candles that had been lit for loved ones that had passed on. His rough voice boomed throughout the empty space.

“You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you take me, huh? Why not me? She ain’t never done a goddamn thing wrong. I’m the one you want. I’m the one that deserves it. I’m the goddamn killer here, huh? I’m the fuckin’ Punisher. So you bring her back, and you take me!”

Frank started grabbing bibles from the pews and hurling them at the statue with all his strength. In his inebriated state, some of them flew right past the statue and knocked over other small figurines and candlesticks. He let out a guttural war cry every time he threw a new one, and by the time he ran out of steam, he was panting heavily, and tears had formed in his eyes.

Dropping to his knees, he looked up at the melancholic face of the statue that matched his own, and he did something he hadn’t done in years. 

He prayed.

“Please. Please, just bring her back. I’ll take her place…I won’t fight…just…just bring her back. I’m beggin’ you…I’ll do whatever it takes, alright? Just…you can’t…you can’t do this to me again. You can’t. I may deserve it, but she don’t…okay so just…just…”

Frank was tired. Three years without you was too long. He hadn’t been able to find the peace that he had found after Maria and the kids. He spent a year waging war on everyone, and it did nothing. He spent the last few months drowning himself in booze, and it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and there was nothing to keep him going. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back, so what the hell was he still getting out of bed every morning for?

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Frank pulled out a revolver and stared down at it. There was only one bullet in the chamber, and it wasn’t meant for anyone but him. If God wouldn’t bring you back, then he would go to you.

As soon as he cocked the hammer, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“You don’t wanna do that, Frank.”

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Frank squinted his blurry eyes before turning back around, shaking his head with a dry laugh.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Half the goddamn universe gets wiped out, and I get stuck with the fuckin’ altar boy.”

“Frank-”

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Red. Just cause there’s only one bullet in this chamber don’t mean I won’t handle your ass.”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few cautious steps towards where Frank was on his knees in front of the altar.

“You’re drunk-”

“And you’re fuckin’ relentless. Go home.”

“Look, whoever you lost-”

“Whoever I lost? I lost everyone, Red!”

Matt didn’t flinch when Frank suddenly rose from his knees and stormed over towards him, his loud voice booming in the silence as they stood barely an inch apart. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, his lips pursed as he grit his teeth.

“You think you’re the only one that’s lost everyone you’ve ever cared about, Frank?”

“Then what the hell are you waitin’ on, huh? You too much of a fuckin’ pussy to do it yourself, huh? That it? You need me to do it for you?”

Matt carefully reached out to place his hand on Frank’s arm, lowering the gun that was in his hand while he spoke in a calm voice.

“I don’t want to die, Frank. And I don’t think you want to either. You just want the pain to stop. But if you do this, it’s permanent, and you’ll never know if she came back.”

Frank shook his head and blew a puff of hot air out of his lips, his dark brows scrunching up in pure annoyance and frustration.

“She ain’t comin’ back-”

“You don’t know that. She’s not dead, Frank. She’s lost. Maybe she’s with Karen and Foggy. Frank, someone came down from another planet and wiped out half the universe. Is it so crazy to think that could be undone?”

The anger that was simmering inside Frank from Matt’s intrusion seemed to be burning through the alcohol in his system, and Matt’s question was igniting a tiny ember of hope that Frank wasn’t prepared to tend to. His body physically deflated as he dropped his head between his broad shoulders. There was a heavy tide of tears on his bottom lash line threatening to flood at any moment.

“Don’t do that.”

“You have to have faith, Frank-“

“I don’t, Red.”

“I do.”

Frank didn’t know when Matt managed to slip the revolver from his grasp, but he didn’t feel the weight of a permanent decision in his palm anymore. Matt had planted a tiny seed of hope, and what if’s were taking over Frank’s brain like wild ivy. 

What if there was a chance you could come back? Matt had a point, you weren’t dead. Not really. Even if the probability of it happening was one in a million, didn’t Frank owe you the same unwavering patience you had always shown him?

“Look Frank, just…give me a year. One year to show you things can be different. If you still want to make that call in a year, I won’t stop you. I’ll leave you alone. But Frank…you’ve gotten through this once before. You can do this again. If not for yourself, just try for her.”

A year. A year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Frank had already been without you for three years now. 

What was one more?

Year Four.

Matt’s apartment was fucking obnoxious due to that goddamn billboard across the street, but it was better than the shitty motels Frank had been staying in. He still couldn’t step foot in the home he had shared with you. It had been three years now, and even though he wasn’t fully convinced you could come back, he couldn’t let it go. Everything that was you was there, and if he sold the house, that meant every trace of you and your existence was gone.

Matt had one rule for Frank staying with him; no killing. For a week, Frank lounged on the couch trying to figure out what to do with himself. He would start to read a book, but could never get more than a few pages because he remembered how much you loved to read, and then he would get stuck staring at the pages while memories of you played on loop in his head. There wasn’t a TV because Matt didn’t have use for one, and Frank didn’t care to watch anything anyway. It didn’t take long for Frank to go stir crazy. He had never been good at staying idle.

While Matt was out making the world a better place, Frank had managed to find a construction job. Busting down walls all day long allowed him to get his pent up anger out while not breaking Matt’s golden rule. Most days it felt like Frank was on autopilot. He woke up, went to the job site, smashed a sledgehammer through a wall until his hands bled, came home, tried to sleep, inevitably had a nightmare about losing you, and laid on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun rose.

Every single day was a repeat of the last until they started to blur together. Frank didn’t speak to anyone at the job sites. He didn’t speak to anyone at all. Between Matt’s busy court schedule and his nightly patrols, they didn’t see each other often, and even when they were home at the same time, Frank still hardly spoke to him. He wasn’t sleeping, he barely ate, and on the days he had off, he didn’t leave the couch. He felt like a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

Matt knew what he was going through. Hell, he had been there himself after the second time he lost Elektra. He knew what it felt like to lose the person you loved most in this world, and that had happened to Frank twice now. He did his best to be patient, but after four months, he couldn’t take it anymore. Matt was fortunate that he’d had people that helped him combat his depression to find his way back to himself, but Frank didn’t have a soul in his corner.

Except for Matt. 

And even though Frank wasn’t shy about not wanting Matt’s help, Matt didn’t care. Frank could be stubborn, but he didn’t have the energy or the drive to match Matt’s stubbornness, and Matt used that to his advantage. He was relentless in pushing Frank to participate in life again. He purposely antagonized Frank, even if it meant being reduced to a human punching bag, because that meant Frank was still in there somewhere.

Matt started small in getting him out of the apartment, like guilt tripping Frank into joining him on trips to the grocery store.

“You’re not gonna help your blind roommate get groceries? You know, a lot of items don’t come with braille labels. So when I die because I accidentally put bleach in my coffee instead of creamer, you have to say nice things about me at my funeral.”

“You don’t need labels, Red. You got that goddamn bloodhound nose. Would you stop lookin’ at me like that? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine. Get your fuckin’ jacket and let’s go.”

After a while, he even managed to get Frank to join him at Fogwell’s from time to time.

“No wonder you became a goddamn lawyer. All you know how to do is fuckin’ argue, makes sense you made a livin’ outta it.”

“I’m not arguing, Frank. If we got in the ring, you would lose. That’s a fact. You don’t know how to box, you just know how to run at people and slam them into things. And you’re too bulky to move as fast as me. None of that is an argument, it’s a simple observation.”

“Why don’t you observe your ass in that ring so I can shut you the fuck up, Red.”

The more time they spent together, and the more Frank put in an effort to move forward one step at a time, the less empty he felt. The nightmares still came every so often, and there were days where the weight of your absence was too much for him to bear, but for the first time in four years, he didn’t feel so hopeless.

He could think about you without breaking down. He could see something that reminded him of you, and it warmed his heart instead of ripping it out. He had finally reached a point where he had slowly crawled out of the deep pit of grief that he had been digging for the past four years.

As much as he hated to admit it, Matt had helped him find a semblance of peace.

Year Five.

The sound of a dog barking caught Frank’s attention. He pulled his head out from under the hood of his truck, looking over at the grey and white pitbull that was standing a few feet away from the front door of the house you and Frank had lived in together that he’d finally moved back into six months ago. He glanced between the front door and the dog with his thick brows furrowed.

“What is it, Daisy?”

The dog turned her head when she heard Frank’s voice, the movement so fast it made her long velvet ears flop. She turned her attention back to the door and continued to bark. Something inside had caught her attention. Eyeing the front door warily, Frank rubbed his grease stained hands off on a small rag and walked over towards where Daisy was, kneeling down beside her to gently scratch that spot between her ears that she loved.

“Hey, shh shh shh. C’mon now, what’s got you so worked up, huh? What do you think is inside, huh? You smellin’ that-”

The sound of the front door opening caught Frank’s attention, and he instantly snapped his head in the direction of it. All of a sudden, his warm brown eyes went wide, and time seemed to freeze in that very moment. 

“Sweetheart?”

His quiet whisper was dripped in disbelief. There you were, looking exactly the same as the day you had vanished, looking between Frank and Daisy with an expression of surprise and perplexment.

“Frank?”

God, your voice. It had been five years since he had last heard it. That was all the confirmation he needed that this was real. You were real. You were really home. 

Without wasting a second, Frank stood and ran over towards you, tears filling up his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your frame and hugged you as tightly as physically possible. His heart was thrashing against his ribcage, and he was terrified this was just a vivid dream, but then he inhaled the scent of your shampoo intermingled with your perfume, felt your hands gently pressing against his back, and heard your soft angelic laughter.

“Frankie…baby…you’re crushing me.”

Frank pulled back only slightly, bringing his large hands up to cup your face to study your features, taking in every single inch of you. He caught the way you frowned softly, looking up at him in pure concern when thick tears streamed down his cheeks. You lifted your hand to delicately brush them away with the featherlight touch of your fingers.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re really here.”

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be? Baby, why are you so upset?”

As you ran your hands through his long grown out curls, a crease of bewilderment nestled in between your brows when you took in his appearance.

“Wait…what happened to your hair? It was just short five seconds ago…and you didn’t have a beard. How…how did you do that? And when did we get a dog? Frank, what-”

Five seconds ago. 

Is that all it was for you? Frank could see the visible disorientation on your delicate features, and he had a lot of questions of his own, but right now nothing mattered but you. He leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past five years into it. He kissed you like the world could end at any moment, because for him it did the day you vanished.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a deep exhale of relief.

“You…you were gone, sweetheart. You were gone a long time…a long goddamn time.”

“Gone? What-”

“I’ll explain everythin’, I promise. Just…just give me a minute, please. Just let me hold you for a minute, can you do that for me, baby? Please?”

Frank had always been able to read you like a book, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t just confused. Hearing you had been gone for a long time infused you with a sense of panic and uncertainty. But you trusted Frank, and you knew whatever hard truth he was going to tell you, he wouldn’t let you go through it alone.

“Okay.”

As Frank embraced you again, you suddenly felt a pair of paws on your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the happy dog wagging its tail while looking between you and Frank. Reaching down, you gently pet the side of her face with a soft smile.

“Hi there, precious.”

“Daisy.”

Glancing up at Frank, your lips parted slightly when Frank told you her name. A soft smile covered his lips, the first smile to do so in five years. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear slowly.

“You always said if we got a dog and it was a girl, you wanted to name her Daisy.”

Tears welled up along your bottom lash line as you looked up at Frank, a gentle smile covering your lips. After a moment, you glanced away from Frank to look at Daisy again, letting out a soft laugh.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Daisy.”

Frank gave your waist a light squeeze, leaning in to press a soft lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And we’ve been waitin’ a long time for you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts