#like the fortune would’ve just gone to him

[lucysarah-c]

"Those are my fries, and those are yours,"

"Come on! Does it really make a difference if I take just one?" You retorted.

"Settled accounts keep old friends," he mumbled, mouth half full of food.

You giggled as he took off the top bun from his burger, piled on a bunch of fries, and took a huge bite. The scene was downright chaotic, and you burst out laughing. Levi, who normally cared about appearances, was wolfing down the McDonald's meal with an intensity that didn’t quite match the polished image he’d shown earlier, even though that suit probably cost a fortune.

Ketchup stuck to the corner of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow, silently questioning what was so funny. Once he'd swallowed, he muttered, "Eat before the fries get cold. They taste horrible like that."

You couldn't help but reflect on how the night had gone. The House of CB dress you'd bought and saved for a special occasion, the hair you had done at the salon, the makeup you practiced to mimic the subtle but lovely glam of the latest Bridgerton season—none of that had been planned for you to end up in your boyfriend's car, surrounded by a ridiculous amount of fast food from a drive-thru at 11 p.m.

The empty parking lot outside, with snow accumulating, could have been eerie if you weren’t sitting next to Levi. Fries slathered in extra cheddar sauce were scattered everywhere, and Levi shoveled them into his mouth without a care. No lights, no music, but it didn't matter—you felt safe with him, though neither of you was keen on tempting fate by keeping the car lights on in the middle of nowhere.

Taking a bite of your own burger, you chuckled again. "I don't think I've ever seen you this hungry."

Levi paused mid-chew to take a swig of his Coke. "Tch, those posh assholes. They dragged me around for hours—hours! Examples of this, representation of that, and handshakes with whoever. From 3 p.m.! They didn’t even let me grab a sandwich at the reception. Finally, they serve dinner at 10—TEN!" he grumbled, the delay clearly having been the final straw. "And what did they serve? One shrimp, a tiny cube of cheese, and some grass they picked from outside and called a gourmet dinner."

"Rich people don’t eat much; that’s why," you teased. "It’s fancy to have tiny portions on huge plates."

"That’s because they’re all on Ozempic, buying up medicine that people actually need. Fuck them," he muttered.

On any other occasion, Levi would’ve cursed you for eating in his car, but tonight he made an exception. "How are my ice creams?"

Levi glanced outside where the ice creams were stored in the cold air to keep from melting. Processing your words, he turned back to you. "My ice creams? You mean ours."

"Oh, Levi, aren’t you going to gift me one? What kind of gentleman are you?" you teased.

"Right now, I’d bite your arm off if it weren’t for the fact that McDonald’s is still open," he replied with a smirk.

You laughed again. It had been the government holiday party, and you’d been so excited to attend, ready to rub elbows with high society. One of the older women had even told you, "You should've asked for a brand to sponsor your dress, coming as Levi’s plus-one!" Erwin had insisted that Levi attend as a representative of the Ackerman family, much to your boyfriend's dismay. Uri had agreed, probably because any option was better than Kenny for a formal event.

"Erwin will kill you when he finds out," you said, remembering how Levi had messaged you to sneak out. You’d never imagined he’d drag you through a bathroom window, across the estate grounds, and into his car for a McDonald’s run. "What about Uri? I ran into him during dinner. He was so nice!"

Levi hummed in approval, acknowledging that the old man had always been a saint in his eyes. The only one capable of dealing with Kenny for so many years.

Suddenly, Levi's phone lit up, its ringtone breaking the quiet. "Fuck!" you panicked.

"Don’t answer. If we do, they’ll know I’m reachable," Levi said, ignoring the calls.

Message after message flooded his phone—texts from Uri, Traute, and Erwin: Where are you? Levi, answer the phone ASAP. Come back here this instant.

The calls came in one after another.

"They won’t stop," you muttered. "Maybe we should just tell them—"

"No. They’d send the national guard to drag me back to that snob-filled hell," Levi spat. Despite not picking up, both of you whispered as if the unanswered calls could somehow hear.

At some point, the whole situation became hilarious. You found yourself resting your head on his shoulder, chuckling as the phone buzzed incessantly. Levi kept refusing to answer, and in the midst of it all, you shared sloppy kisses in the darkened car.

"I’ve got an idea…" you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. Levi looked at you, confused, the noise from the phone distracting from the moment you were building.

Casually, you swiped up on the screen and answered. "Levi? Where are—"

With a fake gasp and an exaggerated tone, you moaned, "Ah, Lev—Yes!"

Levi had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he realized what you were doing. "Play along," you whispered. And before you knew it, he began thumping the side door, mimicking the sound of… well, thrusts.

"Harder!" you managed between giggles before the call abruptly ended, leaving both of you in hysterics.

"Well, they’re definitely not calling anymore," Levi shook his head, still grinning, knowing full well this prank wouldn’t go unpunished.

"You can always say we were busy working on the Ackerman heir they keep asking for," you teased.

Levi grimaced, entertained by the thought. "I mean…" His hand slid up your thigh, the mood shifting as his touch grew more insistent. "We could actually be doing that."

Your hips began to move slightly over his lap. A quick glance at the clock—the only light inside the car—showed 12:05 a.m. Finally past midnight. "Whatever the birthday boy wants," you purred.

—

"He picked up? What did he say, sir?" Traute asked irritably in the event staff area, where they were waiting to bring out the enormous, decorated cake for the final part of the evening.

Uri chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I think he’s already celebrating. Let’s just carry on."

(No idea what this is, the idea just pop up in my mind)

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[hoshifighting]

seungcheol as a sugar baby!

— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, semi-public sex, elevator sex, fingering while driving (don't do it), office sex, hesitant cheol. — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)

it started with a laughable idea—a ceo and a sugar baby. who would’ve thought? but you saw something in seungcheol, beyond that stubborn pride of his, beyond the way his jaw clenched every time you handed over those thick stacks of cash. he hated it, you knew. it burned him inside to take your money, but he needed it, and more importantly, he wanted to succeed on his own.

“i don’t need you to do this, y/n,” he’d grumble, fingers brushing yours as you slid the envelope across the table. his voice was always a blend of annoyance and gratitude, as if saying thank you would taste like sand in his mouth.

“shut up and take it,” you’d say, rolling your eyes, hiding the way your heart picked up speed whenever his fingers lingered on yours just a little too long. “it’s an investment, remember? you’re gonna make it big, and then you’ll pay me back with interest.”

he never knew that you were already invested, not just in his company but in him. you’d been silently funding those little bursts of success he’d had—the ones he’d been so damn proud of. “i got another client today,” he’d say with that boyish grin, chest puffed out like he was on top of the world. it made you happy to see him so excited, even if the real reason for his sudden growth was because of you.

he wasn’t stupid, though. he’d show up at your place, dressed in clothes that you knew cost him a small fortune, and bring you gifts that screamed of desperation to impress. “i got you something,” he’d say, almost shyly, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d like it or not. and of course, you’d always smile and take whatever it was—a designer bag, an expensive watch, anything to make him feel better about taking your money.

“you know you don’t have to do this, cheol,” you’d tell him, pulling him close, your fingers trailing down his chest. “i just need you.”

he’d laugh, shaking his head like you were talking nonsense. “can’t let you spoil me without giving something back,” he’d mutter, lips brushing against your neck, making you shiver.

the day he showed up with a fluffy white puppy, though, that was when you knew it had all gone to hell. you took one look at that tiny, trembling thing in his arms, and your heart fucking melted.

“you serious?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, even as the puppy wiggled its way into your arms.

“you like it?” he asked, and there was something in his eyes, something soft and vulnerable that you hadn’t seen before. “thought you could use some company when i’m not around.”

you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, couldn’t stop the way your chest tightened with something warm and dangerous. “it’s perfect, cheol,” you whispered, your eyes locking with his.

that was it. you were gone. totally fucking in love with him. and the crazy part? he felt the same way.

“you know,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you, “this thing between us…it’s not just about the money anymore.”

“no shit,” you shot back, your tone teasing, but your heart was pounding. “you think i’m in this just to throw cash at you?”

he laughed, the sound rich and deep, and it made you weak. “nah, i know you better than that.”

seungcheol wasn’t just playing the part anymore; he really knew you. it showed in the way he’d show up at your office whenever you were in one of those moods—pissed off and ready to tear someone a new one. you’d barely have time to close your laptop before he’d be there, locking the door behind him with that smirk on his face.

“you know what you need?” he’d say, already undoing the buttons of your blouse as he walked over to your desk, that swagger in his step making your breath hitch.

“cheol, i’ve got work—” you’d start, but it was a weak protest, and you both knew it. the moment his hands were on you, all coherent thoughts went out the window. he’d push you against your glass table, cool surface pressing into your bare tits as he yanked up your skirt.

“let me handle this,” he’d whisper in your ear, and that was it. you were done for. his fingers would find your core, already slick and ready, and the way he’d fuck you right there, leaving imprints of your heated body on the cold glass, would make you forget why you were angry in the first place.

and of course, he’d clean up after. every trace of your reckless encounter wiped away like it never happened, leaving you to pull yourself together and face the world like the unshakeable ceo everyone believed you to be.

but it didn’t stop there. the way he took care of you was relentless, even when you were driving home. he’d slip his hand between your thighs, fingers finding their way under your skirt, teasing you, pushing you to the edge. the car would swerve slightly as he played with you, and he’d chuckle, leaning over to take the wheel when your body shuddered with release. “focus on driving,” he’d tease, but the way his fingers stayed inside you, lazy and possessive, told you he loved watching you lose control.

and then there were the nights he’d show up at your place unannounced. he’d wait until you were on a call, talking business, before pulling you into his lap, lifting your hips just enough to slide his cock inside you, slow and deliberate. he loved testing your resolve, seeing how long you could keep a straight face while he fucked you slowly, making you squirm on top of him, trying to keep your voice steady.

sometimes, he’d wake you up in the middle of the night, slipping into bed beside you, his hands already working you open, kissing your neck, your back, until you were moaning into the pillow. “needed you,” he’d whisper, voice husky and laced with sleep, but you knew that wasn’t the whole truth. he needed you, yes, but you needed him just as much.

he even had a habit of pulling you into the private elevator in your building, pressing the emergency stop button just to have you to himself for a few more minutes. you’d be pinned against the mirrored walls, his hands all over you, mouth on yours, devouring every moan that slipped out. the ride would resume as if nothing had happened, but the way your clothes were a little more rumpled, the way your lips were a little more swollen, would always be a reminder of just how far gone you both were.

[merakiui]

RABU.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, brief nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied murder/death, implied cannibalism, pregnancy, obsession note - i chatted with @heyyy11 and we discussed noodle shop owner jade!! :D this fic is the result of our thoughts. additionally, it's inspired by maretu's "binomi" and lyrics featured are from mitski's "me and my husband."

i. i steal a few breaths from the world for a minute. and then i’ll be nothing forever. and all of my memories and all of the things i have seen will be gone. with my eyes, with my body, with me.

There’s a pot of perpetual stew sitting on the stove.

It fills the small shop with savory scents, enthralling all who catch its delicious aroma on the air. Your husband of twenty years tends to it every now and then, lifting the lid to stir through its contents with a large wooden spoon. Regulars stop by for a fix of his food and comment much the same thing each time: “That husband of yours sure loves his stew.”

“Oh, he can’t get enough,” you would always reply, giggling at their observations.

You would then scrawl their usual orders in your notepad and they’d give you a knowing look. Still so infatuated even though two decades have passed—aren’t you the sweetest? But you can’t help it. Your husband is everything: affectionate, attentive, a masterful chef…

His forever single twin brother often groused that Jade got all the good fortune. “Y’know, if you’re ever tired of Jade, I’m here for ya,” he’d say, leaning over the counter with a sleazy smirk. “Shrimpy’s free to visit whenever she wants. My arms are always open.”

And Jade would smile tightly at him, brush him away with his broom, all while saying, “I’m afraid the shop’s closed now. You’ll have to come back tomorrow, Floyd.”

He acts in jest. Mostly.

Shortly after your wedding, on your first night as newlyweds, the two of you made a compromise. Jade wanted a family; you weren’t ready to start one. And so, in order to work through this dispute, you came to an agreement: He would be in charge of the prep work for the noodle shop he intended to open—a metaphorical child more than anything. In return, you would take orders and chat with customers. A fair deal, one you thought was attractive in its own right. Jade, ever so patient and understanding, lounged beside you in bed, gesturing towards the ceiling as if attempting to spell out the vision before your very eyes. He spoke so eagerly of his dreams. It warmed your heart.

Naturally, just as passionately, you would support him in his every endeavor.

“What do you think of this name? Rabu Rabu Ramen.”

You rolled over on your side, snuggling closer. You couldn’t snuff the overwhelming elation and tenderness that wrapped itself around you whenever you looked at him. And he was all yours—your husband to love forever, to grow old with, to experience life’s highs and lows together. Your wedding night was just the beginning of what would surely be a riveting romance.

“It’s silly.”

“It’s lovey-dovey.”

“If you like it, I like it.”

“Truly?”

You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Absolutely.”

It wasn’t long before fantasy bled into reality. The both of you found a quaint spot in a quiet neighborhood. It was more hole-in-the-wall than you would’ve liked, but Jade didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes tourists stumbled in, commenting that they would’ve missed it had they not ventured down the narrow path. Jade liked that aspect. It was secretive, peaceful, off the beaten track…

By the end of your first year running the shop, plenty of praise had spread throughout the neighborhood. You learned the locals’ names and faces quickly, committing each to your memory as if there might be an exam later on. They thought you were the cutest, the way you’d take charge of the front while your husband worked diligently in the back. Grandmothers adored you, and they made sure to point out the obvious at every opportunity. 

“Omago-san, it’s too quiet in here! You’re still so young. Plenty of time for a family. Tell that husband of yours to get busy!”

You could only offer an awkward smile. “Maybe one day.”

When that ‘one day’ would be, you couldn’t say.

It’s become something of a widely-held belief that Jade can’t make a single bad dish. Everything on the menu is scrumptious. From the homemade noodles to the variety of broths to the additional ingredients, each prepared by Jade’s adroit hand, it’s a feast for the ravenous. 

Sometimes customers ask for recommendations, and if you aren’t careful you’ll end up fawning over every dish.

“It’s all so amazing, but I like my ramen with bone broth. My husband makes it better than I do.”

It was true. You couldn’t possibly replicate Jade’s skill in the kitchen. At the very least, when it comes to tea, you’re on an even playing field.

“Just what’s his secret anyway?”

To that question, you could only offer a shrug. “Maybe it’s love?”

Jade told you it was a family recipe—a cherished secret passed through the generations. You thought he’d confess at some point now that you’ve been part of the family for so long, but he’s yet to do so. It hurt at first. You’re married! Family! Jade is smooth about the entire thing, promising to tell you one day, easing all of your worries with sugared sentiments. You’re impatient and oh-so-curious, but you force yourself to wait for his sake.

It must be a special secret.

The pot on the stove is an heirloom. It’s old, yet reliable and sturdy. Jade’s mother gifted it to him in the wake of your engagement. Sometimes you think he treasures it more than anything. He’s always hovering near it, having forbidden you from lifting the lid, lest you unintentionally tamper with whatever it is he’s cooking. It smells hearty like meat stew most days, and according to Jade the process is long.

You linger near the stove. A tiny taste wouldn’t hurt, right? After all, Jade cooks things in excess to cure what appears to be an interminable hunger.

But then someone pokes their head inside the shop, calling out a greeting. You move to the front just as Jade returns from the storage room, carrying a crate of vegetables. That taste will have to wait.

Detective Azul Ashengrotto lowers onto a stool at the counter and heaves an exhausted sigh.

“If it isn’t Azul! What brings you here? Tired of the big city?”

Weary hues flick over your face. He manages a smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, (Name). You’re still as energetic as ever.”

“You know it. Every day’s sunny over here.” You rest your elbows on the counter and hum. “Although it’s been awfully slow today.”

“I envy you.” He lifts his hat off of his head to card a hand through tousled hair. Now that you’re looking at him, he seems to have lost some weight. His face is thinner. His eye sockets appear hollow, heavy with shadows. “They’re running me ragged over there. Too many cases. Not enough answers.”

“You ought to take better care of your health.”

“I am—will. I plan to as soon as I wrap up this current case.”

“What’s it about? If you can tell me, that is.”

“A young man went missing near the port. They think he might’ve fallen in and drowned. His wallet was brought up from the seabed, but they haven’t recovered his body yet.”

“How unfortunate… I’m sure his family’s distraught.”

Azul drags a hand down his face and sighs again. “A mess.”

“My, my. It’s been some time since I’ve heard that familiar sigh.”

Lowering his arm, Azul fixes him with a sardonic grin. “How kind of you to join us. I was starting to wonder where you were hiding.”

Jade hums and adjusts his bandana. “Forever confined to the kitchen. My wife is eating for two now.”

A minute ticks by before the realization flashes on Azul’s face. He looks between the both of you, stunned.

“Oh, you’ve—wow. I wasn’t expecting… Ahem. Congratulations.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s talking about his stomach. I’m not pregnant.”

Azul’s countenance shifts through a catalogue of emotions before landing on a scowl. “To think I actually believed you for a moment. I rescind my congratulations.”

“My poor hara, endlessly empty without your sweet sentiments to fill it.”

“And my hara is telling me that you’re going to starve our guest if you keep being silly.” Clicking your tongue at him, you turn your much softer stare on Azul. “The usual, right?”

“Oh, thank you, but I ate before I came. I only intended to stop in and say hello since I was in the area. I really should be leaving now that—”

“Nonsense! You’re already here and Jade has nothing better to do. You should go back on a full stomach.”

“Indeed. A delicious bowl of tonkotsu ramen has your name on it,” Jade adds from his place in the kitchen. “And I do so love busying these idle hands of mine. Should they remain idle, I fear the devil may just find work for them…”

“I really shouldn’t…”

“You look so withered, Zuzu. You’ll feel better after a hot meal. I promise!”

The platonic affection twined through the nickname catches him by surprise. Huffing, his cheeks colored pink, he stuffs his hat on his head to veil the darkening blush. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. “I’ll get started on tea.”

You weren’t going to give him much of a choice. Azul probably knows this by now, well-acquainted with your proclivity to play caretaker.

“This winter is particularly brutal,” he comments after you’ve fetched him a cup. It’s more of a change in subject than an observation. He shudders and burrows further into the warmth provided by his coat. “The worst time to die.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Winter is full of mistakes. Drunken mishaps at night, in which the victim slips on ice and falls into the sea… Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. I can’t begin to imagine how painful that must be—to not know where your loved one has disappeared to, only to find them just as the winter frost melts away to usher in spring.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!” You set the kettle down, and Azul watches steamy tendrils curl up towards the ceiling. “Does it ever scare you—the things you find?”

“I’ve seen so much it’s difficult to know what real fear even is.”

“Ah.” You glance over your shoulder at Jade as he opens the lid on the pot of stew. Your eyes drift over towards Azul once more. “You work hard. You deserve a break after your next case.”

“I could sleep forever when that day comes.”

“Retirement isn’t too far, is it, Ojiisan?”

Azul chokes around his breath. “Do I really look so old? Oh, my heart… If these sleepless nights don’t kill me, that assumption certainly will.”

You giggle. “Sorry, sorry. I meant to say you look as spry as ever.”

“You’re too happy to hammer nails into my coffin.”

“I do it with love. It’s our secret ingredient, you know!”

“So I’ve heard.”

The rest of your conversation stalls out. You wipe the counter with a fresh rag in hopes of giving yourself something to do while Azul reads through the newspaper and sips at his tea. You watch him in your peripheral vision. Is he taking care of himself? It doesn’t look like it, but you’ve known Azul long enough to be familiar with his level of responsible efficiency. Maybe this particular case has him in the trenches.

Just how hard are they working him over there?

As his friend you worry. In fact, you worry yourself sick. Every time he visits he’s in poor shape. Though he masks it with confidence, you can see the toll life is taking on him.

“Have you ever wanted to get married, Azul?”

“If I find the right person, sure.”

“But?”

“But, seeing as that has yet to happen, I have no interest in pursuing something that might waste my time and money. Emotions are exhausting, even more so when invested in something like romance. It’s better to put them towards something that will yield solid results. Like work, for example.”

“That outlook is so frigid! Don’t you wanna fall in love?”

“Love isn’t going to crack these cases,” he grumbles at the paper.

Jade appears at the little window cut into the wall. “Someone sounds like a love killer.”

“I’m only being realistic.” Azul scoffs. “Besides, you have no right to speak as a married man.”

“Envy is a wicked vice. I’ll gladly help you overcome it.”

You take the bowl of tonkotsu ramen from Jade and set it in front of Azul. “Okay, enough of that. Let him enjoy his meal in peace.”

“But I haven’t yet had my fill of fun.”

You reach through the horizontal window to gently tug on Jade’s ear. He rumbles with laughter. “Don’t bully the guests.”

“Why, I would never, my dearest.”

Azul watches this back-and-forth with a forlorn longing in his pale blues. Wordlessly, he sinks his soup spoon into the broth and lifts the noodles between his chopsticks. He eats with such zest it makes you wonder if this is his first meal of the day. Sensing your stare, he attempts to pace himself.

You smile sadly. He looks like he needs this.

“As always, it’s delicious,” he says once he’s made a sizable dent in the portion.

Jade basks in the praise. “I’m pleased you enjoy it.”

“But��� Well.” The ghost of a frown settles on his weathered features. “The broth tastes different. You must’ve used a new seasoning. Or perhaps this is an expensive cut of pork? Whatever it is, it’s different. Not bad, mind you. I’m sure if it were anyone else it would’ve been difficult to catch.”

“Is this the impressive power of Detective Ashengrotto’s taste buds at work?” you joke, to which Azul flashes you a proud grin that’s more teeth than lip.

“Well, I have been using ingredients with better qualities as of late… I’m not very fond of serving cheap products to honored guests.”

“Isn’t my Jade so considerate? He’s too cute.” You stand up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “He even grows some of the vegetables himself. Green onions and mushrooms and the like.”

“Ah, of course. How could I forget that dubious green thumb of yours?” Azul muses, recalling the time in which Jade served him a new dish in exchange for valid critique. He had conveniently neglected to inform Azul that it contained mushrooms, something he has eaten plenty of in the time that he’s known you and Jade. So many that all varieties have been spoiled for him. “In any case, what’s the secret ingredient? Imported pork? Some sort of flavor that’s seeped in when left to simmer? No, not that… It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t place it!”

Jade chuckles. “There is no secret. It’s just love.”

Azul pokes around the bowl with his chopsticks, his eyes narrowed with an intense scrutiny. “I can recognize every other flavor. The meat, the green onions, the egg, the noodles… And I can parse the broth well enough. There’s just something else—a hint of something I’ve never tasted before. This profile is missing from my gastronomic lexicon.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “Well, it’s the same broth, isn’t it?”

The both of you turn to Jade for his input. He nods. “My recipe and method haven’t changed.”

“So it’s still the same as before?” Azul’s nose wrinkles. “Strange. I was certain there was a taste of something more…”

Before he can dwell on it any longer, the radio at his hip crackles to life: “Sir, you’re needed at the port. We’ve got something you should see. Over.”

Azul detaches it from his belt and lifts it to his mouth. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t touch anything if you can help it. Out.” Releasing the button, he deflates briefly and then addresses you and Jade next. “It was wonderful seeing you again, but I’m afraid I must cut my visit short.”

“Then we won’t keep you.”

He moves to pull money from his wallet, but you stop him.

“On the house. You deserve it.”

Despite your generous offer, he still places the exact amount on the counter. “You won’t make profit if you’re giving food away for free.”

“Wha—but you’re a friend!”

“That makes it even worse. It’s not very fair to favor me to this extent.”

“Azuuul, don’t be so stubborn! You did this last time, too.”

“I surmise it will be much the same next time he graces us with his presence,” Jade says, eyeing you sympathetically.

“Ugh. Really… If you won’t let us treat you, at least promise you’ll take better care of yourself. No more skipping meals. Get a full eight hours. Prioritize yourself, too, okay?”

Azul starts for the door, so you miss the way he flusters up to his ears. They’re all very valid concerns, of course, but then he’s never been able to swallow the embarrassment that accompanies being unduly fussed over.

“I’ll do what I can,” he says instead and steps outside into the snowy afternoon.

You fold your arms over your chest and huff noisily. “What are we going to do with him? He’s in bad health and he still insists on being difficult. Must he faint before he realizes it?”

Jade emerges from the kitchen, sliding easily behind the counter where you stand. An amused glint shimmers in two-toned eyes. “I suppose we can only hope he’ll fix his bad habits sooner rather than later.”

“If only there were two of me… That way one could tend to the shop alongside you and the other could help him with his work.”

Jade embraces you firmly. With a giggle, you crane your neck to look at him.

“Two is much too troublesome.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have you all to myself.” His lips curve into a practiced pout. “What if (Name) Number Two finds Detective Ashengrotto more desirable than her own husband?”

You reach up to pinch his cheek in light scolding. “You know that would never happen.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“I would never. If I did, that wouldn’t be the real me. I love you too much.” You twirl out of his arms to collect the dirty dishes. “Hey, since he’s no longer here, what was really in Azul’s ramen?”

“I haven’t the faintest inkling, my dear. I used the same ingredients I always do. Perhaps he was tasting something that wasn’t actually there?”

“Maybe… He looked pretty tired, Jade.” You peer at your reflection in the broth. “I wonder if he’ll be okay.”

“I’m sure he will.” Jade follows you into the tiny, compact kitchen. “You do know his penchant for smoking has worsened. I fear his sense of taste may be compromised from so many cigarettes. That, and age. Oh, but these are merely my own theories. He might have caught flavors of a love he’s never known before on those ruined taste buds of his.”

“Ah, right. Because everything you make is filled with love.”

“Not everything. There’s still something I’ve yet to fill with my love.”

He presses himself against you, his hands settling on your waist. You roll your eyes at his very obvious flirting.

“I’m assuming that something is actually a someone?”

“Indeed. And she’s standing right in front of me.”

His arms snake around your front so that you’re effectively trapped between him and the countertop. His hands close around your breasts to grope you through your shirt. You shiver against him when his fingers brush against the precise area of where your nipples are. It’s when he pinches both between his thumb and index that you finally shut the faucet off, surrendering to his touch instead of the dishes piled in the basin.

“At least close the front. What if someone walks in?”

“Unlikely,” he murmurs, his lips hot on your neck. His fingers slip under your shirt to undo the clasp of your bra. “It’s slow today. We can manage.”

You brace yourself at the sink and gasp when he grinds against your ass. “T-Ten minutes.”

“Only ten?”

“Would you prefer five? Your mouth is so smart today.”

“My love, I need only seconds to unravel you. You’re quite easy.”

You bark out a sharp laugh. “I’m not the one with the hard-on, my darling.”

“You’re too alluring, even in uniform. So beautiful, always and forever, my sweet wife.”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you out of dirty dish duty.”

“How cold… You rival the snow outside.”

You shift slightly to face him, offering him an impish grin. “I’d hate for my Jade to freeze. Let’s warm up together, all right?”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

And all the while, your voices filling the kitchen in unison, bodies pressed close, the pot continues to simmer on the stove.

ii. and i am the idiot with the painted face. in the corner, taking up space. but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved.

“Can I ask you something, Floyd?”

“What’s up?” he answers around a mouthful of udon. A few strands hang out from between his lips, and he slurps them up in a motion so fluid it leaves you impressed. As for the mess he makes… Not so much.

“What’s the secret thing that’s been passed through your family?”

Floyd blinks at you, lost. “The secret thing?”

“It’s some ingredient or flavor or…whatever that Jade says is a family secret. I have no idea what it is. He won’t tell me no matter how many times I ask.”

“Ohhh, you’re talkin’ about Mama’s pot, right? That thing’s been in our family forever. She gave it to Jade cuz I didn’t want it.” Floyd points with his chopsticks, playfully accusatory. “What? You into cookware now? I can getcha somethin’ if ya want.”

“What’s this about cookware?” Jade asks, poking his head inside. He looks warm and comfortable in his nagagi and haori, a pleasant sight for your eyes, but the broom clutched in his hands tells a threatening tale. 

Ignoring the fact that he so clearly eavesdropped, you wave him forwards so that you can straighten his scarf. Jade props the broom against the doorway before striding closer. He leans into your touch with a smug smile, which is shamelessly directed at his brother.

“Oh, you’re freezing! Let me fix you a cup of tea. You’ll catch your death if you spend any longer sweeping out there.”

“Thank you, my dear. I fear the chill is rather paralyzing…”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “He’s fine. Nothin’ he can’t handle.”

“I might just die.”

His dramatics don’t faze Floyd, but they do draw a chuckle from you. “We can’t have that.” You duck into the kitchen and return minutes later with a warm cup of chai. “Floyd was just telling me about your mother’s pot.”

“Was he now?”

“Only cuz Shrimpy asked.”

Jade blows at the steamy beverage to cool it before bringing it to his lips for a sampling. He hums his approval. “It’s quite special.”

Floyd slumps against the counter. “Whatever. It’s boring!”

“I suppose there isn’t much to discuss regarding an old pot.”

“Nothing we haven’t already mentioned.”

“Speaking of that… You thinkin’ about closin’ up the shop for the holidays? Pops’s been on my ass. He and Mama want you to visit.”

Jade gazes at you, but you’re already looking at him. “Should we?” you ask. “I’m not opposed. I just know you like running things here.”

“Not like you’re gonna get crazy business on Christmas.”

“No, but there are a fair amount of regulars who might stop by.”

“We should visit your parents, Jade. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, listen to Shrimpy. Mama’s been missin’ ya.” Floyd shovels more noodles in his mouth. “And afterwards we can all do somethin’ fun on New Year’s Eve.”

“That sounds great! Let’s do it!”

“S’no fun spendin’ the holidays workin’ yourself into the ground.”

“Exactly. Your brother makes a good point. What do you say, Jade? We’ll make the trip to see your parents and then come back in time for New Year’s Eve.”

Jade smiles, approving of the idea. “In that case, I should call Mother so she knows when to expect us.” Taking a final sip from his tea, he rises from his seat and disappears into the kitchen. Seconds later, you hear soft footfalls on the floor above.

“You really don’t know?”

Floyd shrugs. “No idea. The only thing that kinda fits the whole secret ingredient vibe is Mama’s pot. That’s been passed through the family. Other than that? I’ve got nothing.”

“Well… Yeah, that’s true. Maybe it really is nothing.”

Floyd laughs. “This sure means a lot to ya.”

“Of course it does! We’ve been married for two decades and I still don’t know what this ‘family secret’ is. Decades, Floyd! Surely he would’ve told me by now.”

“Is it really that important?”

“It is to me.” You gaze sidelong at the broom and inhale a steadying breath. “It feels like I’m not a part of the family if he won’t tell me something as simple as this. You’d think twenty years qualifies you as—”

“Hey, you’re always gonna be family to me.” Floyd’s hand reaches to cover yours. He hesitates and instead grabs another napkin. “Jade’s just bein’ a hard-ass. Gets it from our old man.”

“Do you think this ‘family secret’ is real?”

“Who knows? I’m sure he’ll fess up once he gets tired of playing this game.”

“Yeah, that sounds like my Jade. He’s really too much sometimes.” You shake your head and sigh. “Thanks for saying that, though. That part about me being family. It… It means a lot.”

“It’s the truth.” Floyd sets his chopsticks and chirirenge down, lifting the bowl to drink what’s left of the broth. He whistles, supremely satisfied, and slouches on the stool. “You ever need anything—doesn’t matter what it is or how much trouble you think it might be—just gimme a call. I’ll be there to help.”

“Thanks. A-Again. Truly.”

Floyd flashes you a toothy smile. “Don’t mention it.”

You collect his bowl, intending to bring it to the sink, but Floyd’s next words stop you in your tracks.

“Hey, Jade’s got that pot on, yeah?”

“The pot? Oh, yes, the pot! What about it?”

“Has it been stirred lately? You gotta do that once in a while, right?”

Your nerves, which had previously been pulled taut, smooth out. He’s referring to cooking. Nothing else. Just cooking.

“I’ll do that. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Mhm! Smells yummy, by the way.”

“Doesn’t it? Jade’s food is amazing.”

“Mine’s pretty killer, too. You gotta come over and try some.”

“If you’re cooking for me, you’ll have to cook for Jade as well.” You giggle to yourself as you cross into the kitchen, only for the laughter to stick in your throat.

Jade stands at the stove. He lowers the lid onto the pot and sets the wooden spoon aside. He was so quiet you hardly noticed him. How long has he been there? When did he return from upstairs?

“Oh, good timing! Floyd and I were just saying the pot needed to be stirred.”

Jade smiles and takes Floyd’s empty bowl from you. “Did we all have a collective thought just now?”

“Ooh, like telepathy?”

“Wouldn’t that be shocking? Three-way telepathy.”

You watch Jade set the bowl beside the others in need of washing. “That would be so noisy! Three times as many thoughts… I wouldn’t be able to hear myself think.”

“It’d be like watchin’ a show about the two of you,” Floyd pipes up from the front.

“Thankfully, that will never happen.” Jade guides you back out. You peer over your shoulder at the pot. “What a relief our minds aren’t connected. I don’t think I’d enjoy a stray listening in on our private affairs.”

You slap his arm gently. “Floyd’s not a stray!”

“Might as well be since it feels like he’s kickin’ me to the curb. So mean.”

“Not at all. I’m just making a distinction clear.” Jade’s smile is razored, his words catty. “You’re always welcome to visit so long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hands off the Shrimpy. I gotcha.” Floyd pops up from his seat and stretches. It seems as if all of Jade’s remarks, each born from petty possessiveness, roll off his shoulders. “I’m not gonna steal her from you if that’s what’s got you so worked up.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried.”

Floyd’s once easygoing expression sours. “You’re beggin’ for cement shoes, ain’tcha?”

Jade feigns offense, placing his hands over your ears even though it’s a pointless gesture. “For my own blood to threaten me in front of my sweet pearl… It brings tears to my eyes.”

“All right, all right! I’m goin.’ Geez.” Floyd struts out the door, not wanting to be manually shooed out by Jade and his beloved broom. “And don’t forget about New Year’s Eve!”

You wave farewell until he’s vanished out of sight. Only then do you turn to address your husband. “You ought to be nicer to him. He’s your brother.”

“I was. Very nice, in fact.”

“Really? How?”

“I didn’t charge him for the meal.”

iii. me and my husband, we’re doing better. it’s always been just him and me together. so i bet all i have on that furrowed brow. and at least in this lifetime we’re sticking together. me and my husband, we’re sticking together.

Everyone thought the odds were significantly slimmer than that of younger women—impossible by your standards—but somehow you’re pregnant at forty-four. You suspected it when you missed your period and then, just days prior, woke up with a terrible bout of morning sickness.

Standing in the bathroom, staring at the positive test like it’s a relic from Atlantis, you pinch yourself. Hard. It stings, and with this your disbelief mellows into something astonished.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

And this time you’re ready for a family. You’re ready to raise a child. Somewhat. Amidst every positive emotion there's anxiety and fear, and they reign so tyrannical that you almost forget you’re meant to be excited. Tamping down insecurity, you turn the test over in your hands.

I’ve got to tell Jade.

But before that you think back on the timeline in an effort to pinpoint the fateful day. After mapping it out for a brief while, you arrive at what’s possibly the least romantic way to conceive a child. Going at it raw and reckless in the kitchen, bent over a sink filled with dirty dishes and pressed against the wall… At least it was in a place both of you treasure.

Not the worst place, you think. I guess it doesn’t have to be a typical rose-petals-on-the-floor situation.

You’re practically vibrating out of your skin when you tiptoe out of the bathroom. Jade’s already downstairs. You can hear him humming as he works to open the shop. Hastily, you change into your work clothes and stuff the test in your pocket.

Jade’s notorious for his surprises, but it’s never been easy to return the favor. You mull over this facet of his character as you skip down the stairs. How can you shock him with this good news when he makes it so difficult? It’s as if he’s always two steps ahead, expecting the unexpected before it can even happen.

Jade brightens when you walk into the kitchen. He meets you halfway, lifting your hand to his lips. “Good morning. How did you sleep, my pearl?”

You squeeze his hand. “Like the dead.”

He chuckles. “I’m pleased it was so restful.”

You glance at the pot then and an idea sprouts. “Is there anything else that needs to get done? Is the front opened?”

“Just about. I need to prep a few more things here and then—”

“I can do it! It’s just stocking up on what’s low, right? That’s not very hard.”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” You claim the spot he had once been standing in. He was in the process of filling a container with chopped green onions before you came down. “Go on and open the front. I’ve got things handled here.”

“I do so adore you.”

“I adore you more.”

“I adore you most.” He beams and stalks off through the doorway. 

Now left to your own devices, you move to the sink and turn on the water to wash your hands. If all goes according to plan, you’ll open the lid, pretend something’s wrong with its contents, and when Jade comes over to investigate you’ll act as if you’ve pulled the positive test from the pot. It’s a harmless surprise. You’re sure he won’t be expecting it, especially since he’s the one who does all of the cooking.

After confirming Jade’s still busy with the front, you creep over to the stove. That infamous pot awaits. You slide your hand into an oven mitt and grab hold of the lid, lifting it slowly. You’re immediately hit with the delicious scent of bone broth, so fragrant it almost has you salivating.

Focus! I can eat after the big reveal.

You open your mouth to call Jade over and then pause.

Has he stirred it yet? It looks a little… No, it’s definitely murky. Is bone broth supposed to be this dark? Maybe I just need to stir it.

You lower the wooden spoon into the broth and, scraping along the sides and bottom, mix expertly. The bones knock into each other from the disturbance, and you inhale deeply. It reminds you of the tonkotsu ramen Azul fancies so much. You could go for a bowl right now.

You’re about to take the spoon out and cover the pot when something floats to the surface. Without meaning to, you recall Azul’s words from last month: Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. Curiously, you scoop the object up onto the spoon. Broth spills over into the pot and then you see it.

A finger.

A human finger.

What the fuck is a finger doing in Jade’s pot?

The nail has been plucked off and the skin is sagging away, turned to pliable mush from sitting in the pot for so long, but it is undoubtedly a finger.

A very real, very human finger.

Bile slithers up your throat with thick, acidic fingers.

Fingers.

There’s another one and then another. Three fingers. You poke around in the broth, dreading what else you might see. You don’t want to find a full set of ten. Anything but that. You count five and that’s all you can stomach before you’re shakily covering the pot with the lid. You set the spoon and oven mitt down next, your mind reeling.

You want to vomit.

You’re about to vomit.

You’re going to—

“(Name)?”

You whirl to look at him. Your husband. He stands in the doorway, a dark look on his face. You can’t describe the emotion, or lack thereof. It’s more of a shadow. An oppressive shadow. An intimidating shadow. A shadow that seems to say: You’ve seen too much.

“J-Jade!” How long has he been standing there? How much does he know? “Sorry. I… I felt sick just now. I think I should…rest a bit more.”

The gloom fades away into perfect placidity. “My, my. That’s not good.” He takes a step towards you and pauses when you jerk away. “Is everything all right?”

“Y-Yes, of course! I’m just…not feeling it today…or something.”

“I suppose it can’t be helped.” His eyes slide towards the stovetop. “I do so dislike getting into disagreements with you. So to avoid that I’ll ask once and only once. What did you see in the pot?”

Your spine stiffens, straight and still as a board, and you hang your head guiltily. “I… I’m sorry. I saw… W-Well, I don’t want to believe it. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding or a mistake of some kind. It’s just that—um… I… I saw…”

Fingers. Human fingers!

“I saw what I think is y-your secret ingredient. The thing—” your voice cracks, and you swallow thickly to push rising bile back— “Azul tasted that day…” “And that secret ingredient is…”

Tears brim and spill over in silent, horror-struck waterfalls. You risk a glance at your husband, and a wobbly smile pulls your lips apart.

“Love.”

[kiwanopie]

A Lucky Find.

Pure luck, isn’t it? (Geto Suguru x fem!sorcerer!Reader)

cw: yandere if you squint. mention of misogyny and inappropriate work place relationships, graphic descriptions of curses and body horror, death by mutilation involving a curse (Not you), mention of religion, only specifics about reader is that she’s visibly very attractive and may have long hair (no descriptors though, it could be a lace) Suguru is out of his mind. You will not be called a monkey in this one.

wc: 3.9k

You’re not a very talkative assistant.

Granted sometimes you’re inclined to wonder if talking would’ve made so much of a difference to the position you’ve been put in, but you’ve never been a particularly choosy assistant either. You’re great at handling quick business, the calls your boss can’t be bothered to take - studious in your evening planning and you can quick work a coffee run like nobody's business. — You don’t complain about the thin heels they put you in, or the pencil skirts. Mired businessmen with filthy smirks and wondering eyes, or the routine baby talk you get from your degenerate boss. You don’t blink an eye at it. - You sit when you’re told to sit and bark when Mr. Minoru decides to hold that pretty little bone over your head.

“You could use a bonus, huh?”

Today it’s a back rub.

You’re silent as your nimble fingers start to press little groves in his upper back, impassive when he groans. Mr. Minoru, your boss, is a very rich man. He’s the successor of a retired tycoon who was once the successor of another and so forth. He’s an amalgamation of power and fortune and a small legion of nepotism babies that regularly walk in through those mahogany doors just ahead of his desk. An investor, you think. Most conversations he has are about money and the best way to double it; fewer are the ones where he’s actually taking the time out of his schedule to distribute it.

It’s all elite talk. Big men following big men following a perv who believes he’s god. Long outstretched legs that extend as he relaxes himself in his seat and hopes that the movement is enough to encourage you to start on his shoulders.

You like to think you got this job out of pure luck. Met the right man at the right time and stumbled over the deal of a lifetime all for the small cost of a little bit of your dignity. — Not like it was much of a trade from your part time job busing tables at that high-end restaurant. Being yelled at by bratty celebrities at a fraction of the price and coming home smelling reminiscent of a meat locker. Now you’re standing on the top floor of a penthouse suite. Smelling of expensive perfume that your boss totally didn’t break worker/boss relation code for and looking down at the entirety of Tokyo from its bay windows.

Pure luck.

The creature hooked to the upper side of his shoulder unfastens its teeth with a firm graze of your fingers. The steam it emits as it fizzles away is sour.

Mr. Minoru has a pension for starting fights with the wrong people, it seems. With bitter people - scornful people. People who hate him and can’t do anything about it, other than wish him harm or hex him in some way. — Worst are the people who don’t hate him, who envy him. Step into his office with painted smiles and clenched teeth. Who curse his name the moment they leave and leave you to deal with these little “bugs.”

Your nose twitches as its rotten smell encombers. For a moment your pretty face is twisted up in a scowl.

The massages started from an offhand graze of your fingers during a dinner at your old job. Pretty little waitress bending over him in that little work dress and running your finger down his felted coat. You apologize for your familiarity, someone must’ve spilled something on his jacket. ~ But the weight on his back is gone from just that little touch and now he’s offering you a job. You don’t regularly make a habit of helping those you’ve already deemed “afflicted.” But the fucker making goo trails on his back at the time was just disgusting enough to hinder your train of thought, and there’s no way you could’ve gone through your shift without reviling every time you passed his table.

So, now you’re his assistant - and today it’s just a back rub. Thankfully not a request to play with his hair and try not to cringe at the way he shutters from it. A subtle pat on the cheek for his good luck kiss, or a request to sit on his lap while he tells you a story he doesn’t care if you’re listening to. Because you’re quiet.

His not talkative, non-fussy, no complaints assistant.

Like always he fills the empty air in place of your silence. “Ah. By the way, princess. We’ve got a guest coming around after lunch. A real traditional fella. So, we’ll need to be on our best behavior,”

“Apparently he’s got some sort of business opportunity for me in exchange for a few investments,” He sighs when your fingers dip a little under his collar. “Says that in his big fuckin’ haori. Probably cost a few thousand bucks,”

Mr. Minoru shifts his shoulders under your firm touches. “To be completely honest, I don’t really know about it aside from the gag of seeing him in person again. Guy has this weird energy about himself that gives me the creeps. — Says he’s avant-garde. — I just think he’s a weird fuckin’ guy.”

“But,” The exhale he lets out is tempered and whisky tinted, clears out the fresh space in his chest that usually frees up when you’ve got your hands on him. “My old man likes ‘em. Says he’d be good for my health if I kept him around. At the very least build some sorta relationship with him.”

“Too bad my health’s in tip-top shape! Eh, doll-baby?” Minoru twists his head to flash you an expensive smile. Faintly defined cheekbones turning rosy when you return it like you know you’re supposed to. “Got my little guru at my side!”

And your simper, although gentle, is forced. Distantly you wonder if you’re the reason these bugs have become so habitual.

——-

This man is very ill.

Though he walks in with his head held high and a particular spring in his step, your diagnosis is that he must be terminal. He must be diseased and irremediable. In a constant state of agony and so stricken with unwellness that he can’t even think straight. You’ve seen your fair share of “bugs” and rabid disfigured animals that grow out of their hosts like fungus. Some that trail behind like lost children with broken crackling legs - a stench that only accompanies the open wounds whose maggots reach out so helplessly. Disturbing things. For all of it you’ve seen, you’re lucky to say that those cases are few and far in between.

But this,

It has many hands and many faces.

Each accompanied by its own set of teeth. Curling lips that stutter as they rise, etched in lipstick and gum; you find mint leaves hidden in the valley of its tongue, coiling as it softly sings. Watching from afar as it hobbles on its haunches like a drunken man, or of fawn newly grazed. It is steady - and constantly moving. It buzzes like a million bees and yet the man standing next to it is seemingly unaffected.

And so are you.

Your gentility becomes you as you politely bow for the man who you’ve so gracefully led to Mr. Minoru’s office. A practiced curtsy is usually enough to get your usual guests commenting under their nose at your bosses taste in assistant’s, but this man is quiet as he walks past you. So above your head that it almost feels like he doesn’t even know you exist. And that feeling is… off putting to say the least.

You close the door behind him as your boss starts on introductions.

“Ah, so you’ve met my beautiful assistant!” He reaches out his hand. “Minoru. Nice to meet you.”

The genuinity in the man’s smile fastens his eyes into slits as he steps forward to return the shake. “Geto, likewise.”

“Geto, huh? I heard the old man sent you for an investment proposition. My guess is it’s something… traditional?” Minoru gestures toward his garbs.

He’s somewhat clinical in his attempt to look lighthearted, but the sigh he blows out feels trusting. “So this isn’t selling “contemporary” huh?”

Minoru laughs and the thing beside him whimpers.

Your fingers twitch against your work skirt.

You’re a distant shadow lingering behind the conversing men as you step to your post on the far side of the office wall, heels clicking quietly when you bend to fix yourself adjacent to Mr. Minoru’s desk. — You’re not expected to listen much to the conversation, or even understand the matters on which they talk about. Just straighten your back when your boss snaps his fingers and follow obediently when he coos an order.

But even if that weren’t the case, you’d say it’d be hard to pay any attention to anything other than whatever the fuck that is hunched beside the man standing just a few feet away. Singing quietly under its breath and repeating the tune like a prayer. Fearful, shaken, pleaful, dread inducing; overlapping in its many mouths. Your fingernails quietly scrape against each other in your attempt to remain neutral but from a keen eye you’re jarred. Disquietingly moving your eyes from the two men still talking adjacent from you and then it again.

It’s looking at you.

You force down a swallow when Minoru calls your name.

“Quiet thing, isn’t she?” Your boss comments amidst the conversation as you approach them. “Could almost forget she’s here if it weren’t for the eyecandy,”

You smile at him like he’s flattering you but it’s muscle memory. “Sir?”

“Gather up those papers from your desk over there, sweetpea. And hand it to the nice man.”

You almost don’t even wanna turn your back on it.

But against your own anxieties you do as you're told. Even with your nerves frayed as they are. You keep your posture as you hastily skirt to your desk and back across the room again. Nimble, slightly shaken fingers lowering to place it in Geto-san’s hand but he doesn’t acknowledge you even when you smile. Vacant eyes. Bored of you already. —- You don’t know if you should feel more offended or alarmed. But in your curtsy before backing away you decide to split the difference and go for disturbed.

Avant-garde. This guy just gives you the fuckin’ creeps.

He works in health, apparently. From what you’ve gathered in the continuing conversation, he’s a spiritual man who offers health by spiritual means. It’s not a very groundbreaking admission, especially from a man in traditional garb, but he assures that his practices have long surpassed ground theory and have been proven to guarantee actual results. From refractory diseases, mental illness, visible injury; his methods could completely eradicate the need for traditional medicine and take the health industry by storm.

But money is a long factor, longer in the doubtful and non-spiritual. “Non-worthy.” It sounds pointed the way he slips that in, but your red flags aren’t shared with your less than convinced boss.

“Spiritual healing sounds great and all, Geto buddy. But you’re directing services to a pretty biased market.” Minoru crosses one of his legs over the other from his perched position against his desk. “Even with the facts, the money’s in objectivity. You’d get more bang for your buck just saying any Yamada worth his salt can walk in and get rid a’ his sniffles for the right price. - Religion ‘ll just turn people off.”

Geto smiles patiently. “Ah, Minoru-san, we’re not religion based. Religion promotes powerlessness. Our services come from practical people.”

You watch as the creature messily swivels on its crooked legs when he invades its space by leaning back a little. “But to insert certain biases kind of sweetens the deal, doesn’t it? People like things that make them feel special. Even the most useless people should wanna prove themselves in some way, right?”

What a crooked way of thinking.

At your quiet displeasure the mass behind Geto wheezes painfully, wincing when you lock eyes with it. Its song pitches and warbles, chops a little like it’s weeping; but even in its effort to resume its discontent is palpable.

You could almost feel acknowledged by it. By its wandering eyes and its tightened misshapen shoulders. Almost as off put as you are from its spot in the middle of the room. The more you look at it, the more it starts to evoke pity. Even in its unsightliness, it looks misplaced and afraid. - Its song breaks like a cry for mercy and the closer you look at it the more recognizable its purpose becomes.

There are knots in its balmy skin so engorged they bleed and tear. Fabric mincing over fictional scabbing and prayer beads hanging out of its gashes. Every twitch it makes reverberates ricey out of rhythm beats akin to maracas and its song, as out of key as it is, is reverential. Powerlessness. Anodyne through faith. You barely find yourself pitying the afflictions of affected people but in the context of this conversation - it’s watering eyes; you feel empathetic toward this thing and by extension Geto-san.

You assume something awful must’ve started that way of thinking.

Should you even stick your neck out for this guy? You’ve dealt with bigger, more violent ones in any case. But this creature seems peaceful. Following faithfully on its hosts haunches as it waits patiently beside him. You’ll have to be fast and unflashy about it, hopefully the stench from that thing won’t make you hurl on impulse. But if not out of mercy, it would be nice to have it out of your line of vision.

Your eyes cross it again. It’s many eyes well with anguish. You decide that at your next opportunity you’ll get rid of it promptly.

As luck would have it Mr. Minoru’s personal phone rings.

He’s quick in his apologies as he fishes it out of his pocket. Passing a smile to Geto as he quickly bows and makes the few long strides it takes to step out of the door and into the hallway, and a few short snaps in your direction as he points you to the concessionaires reserved for his clients near the door.

You’re practiced as you dip for the little fridge on your left, carefully sliding out a glassed bottle of water from the door and a plastic bag of sliced apples.

“Would you like a snack while you wait, Geto-san?”

He ignores you.

Through a quietly exasperated sigh does he slide his phone out of his hakama and pointedly decide not to acknowledge your awkward stance at the far end of the room. — You know he ignores you because the silence that otherwise permeates the spaciousness of your boss's suite is momentarily disrupted by the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls; followed again by that frigid silence.

This is the guy you’re trying to help.

Even so, your embarrassment is brushed aside in favor of making your way to the small coffee table between him and the other leather seat parallel to his. Thin pencil skirt riding a little as you take wide steps to the little spot that separates him from the empty seat - and you from the thin sliver of carpet standing between he and the now quivering mass.

You bend to place the treats gingerly beside him.

And when you rise you reach for it.

There are practiced fingers circling around your wrist before you can even touch it.

Your fear is potent enough to turn its broken hums into racking sobs as you freeze in his sudden grip. Firmly clasped onto you as he raises your arm over your head and forces you to jolt back with a stuttered breath. Faint greyed markings on the palm of your hand fade but they’re caught under his watchful eye, and through your shock you watch his expression switch.

From confusion, to intrigue, to pure excitement.

Your shock teeters on horror as his pupils dilate. “Now, just what were those pretty fingers planning on doing?”

He seems to revel at the sheer bewilderment that colors in your pretty face from where you nervously stare up at him. Doe eyes lit up by headlights, and the radiative heat of suddenly being this close to his predatory gaze. You stammer. “Wh-? Y-You know it’s-“

“Brought it with me, didn’t I?” He speaks lowly as he circles his thumb over your wrist. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern though, sweetheart.”

You shrink. The absurdity of intentionally carrying a burden like this is as mind boggling as it is chilling. Dread inducing, even. With the kind of bad juju that thing emits there’s no other reason to purposefully let it fester beside you than for motives deeply depraved. Deeply disturbed. The way the air around him murkens and electrifies, and a glint in his eye that makes you feel like prey. — He’s looking at you like you’re dinner right now. And something about that feels trillions of times more frightening than any typical rubbernecking.

After being treated like a ghost by this man this whole time. Now he’s looking at you like you’re a slab of meat spread out for him. Succulent and tenderized, pliant under his fingers. Your soft eyes are rigid with fear as his other hand reaches for you blithely, larger fingers dipping in your loose hair and scooping it gently forward. You glance at it from the corner of your eye.

Smoke curls around his palm.

You suppress with a quiet intake of breath.

Geto-san’s cheeks pinken as he gleefully smiles, emboldened by a genuine tinge of ardor. You do your best not to flinch but it’s futile, his chilled fingers consolingly caress your face as he tuts; and gazes at you like he’s committing you to memory.

“Be patient for me, yeah? I’ll be done in a minute.”

You can’t even begin to guess what that means.

But before you can inquire he’s shushing you with a finger up to his lips. Playfully shooing you away as Mr. Minoru’s footsteps patter closer, and you clumsily re-fit yourself into your professional mask.

“Sorry ‘bout that, pal. Forgot about another meeting I was supposed to attend a little earlier,” He pockets his phone. “No one’s fault.”

He leans against the cliff of his desk where Geto-san’s planted himself again. Minoru glances at the unopened bag of apple slices. “Ah, _____, baby. You were supposed to hand him the good stuff.”

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“No worries.” Geto laughs airily. “How could anything look nearly as appetizing when you’ve got an assistant like that walking around?”

Your ears burn as Mr. Minoru snorts in kind. “Yeah, fair enough,”

He rolls up his sleeves. “A’right, princess. How bout you hop on over to my lounge and break open the good brandy for my guest and I. Bring us the crystal set. Can you do that?”

—-

The decanter in your hand falls with a dull thump.

There’s no… logical explanation for what you’re looking at right now — Who you’re looking at right now. In any other circumstance deep purples would be expected. Blotched boysenberries and flossy reds, dotted with strained blues. You’d expect tearing - bleeding, audible ginger snaps of tendons and extended bone. A scream even, no matter how silent; all are logically expected. Death is logically expected.

But seeing your boss stretched out like leather, not a full five minutes after leaving him alone with this man, is not.

Your eyes frantically skirt over your boss's heaving corpse from your exposed position at his closing entrance. Watching in repulsed terror as his skin tears and bruises, familiar prayer beads falling out of his flesh like stuffing. - His eyes are rolled agonizingly into the back of his head, mouth opened in a scream. His blood sizzles against the maple of his desk and you can do little but stare in horror.

You flinch as the mainline on his desk starts to go off but you’re no sooner cringing at the way his arm breaks just to reach for it. Bloody fingers pushing the receiver, and cheeks tearing just to respond.

His unchanged voice somehow makes it all the more horrifying. “Hi, Souza. Thanks for getting back to me,”

“Yeah, do me a favor,” You back into the door. “Route about ten million to Geto-san’s organization under investment. And be a dear and sign the invoice for me, would ya?”

You’re gonna be sick.

“So, you’re out of a job now, huh?” You nearly yelp.

Geto-san’s standing just over you. “I’ve got a pretty similar position opened up,” He says casually. “‘Wanna work for me?”

You can barely push out a word. Which, kind man that he is, helps you out by deciding for you. “Ah, Great! I can break you in on Sunday. Here’s my card.”

He smiles kindly as you hesitantly pluck the laminated card from his fingers. Looking at you under mirthful eyes that chill more than they comfort.

“If you’re worried about pay, I can give you double of whatever that monkey gave you. Maybe a little extra if you’re as good as he says you are.”

But before you can recoil at the thought of being stuck under the same kind of boss, with the extra caveat of being a psychopath; he adds with a hint of challenge. “That is, if you can get rid of our friend for us.”

You follow his glance to the creature wearing your boss like a hand puppet.

Do you even have a choice?

Geto-san watches with a keen eye as you warily approach the blinking, bleeding corpse behind your late boss’s desk. Heels clicking slowly against his wooden floors, skin prickling at the thought of even getting close to this thing let alone touch it. There’s a smell that you notice as you move closer. A rotten, discrepant smell that pushes as much as it pulls. Aging, airless skin, barreling toward cell death; only marginally slowed by the alkaline smell of embalming fluid. Too old. Too sour.

But there’s something about it that almost — Hypnotizes. Evokes a kind of nostalgia that almost completely disarms you. Church pews and goatskin, leather hardbacks under frilly gloves; and those damn prayer beads. You can almost hear your grandmother’s voice. The minty sweet taste of stale candies tinted by the perfume in her purse. ~ Watching worship but not understanding it. A contact high of conviction. Your boss’s blood spills and it means something sacred, something reverent. And the closer you get, the more that sacrifice feels for the better.

You flicker a glance in Geto-san’s direction. This guy had this shit on standby?

It’s clammy when your fingers finally graze its skin. Sweaty and twitching, like every touch is a pinched nerve; like every stroke stimulates. There’s movement under the first layer, a hissing under the second. It’s mania seeps off of it in droves and the more you linger on it, the more your stomach twists.

You draw back your hand and rub over the difference in texture.

The room is temporarily endowed with smoke at the snap of your fingers.

They’re both gone when the vapor quickly dissipates, blood formerly staining expensive maple now replaced with its originally polished shine. As well as his chair, his area rug, and any other evidence that could connote what truly horrific fate the man in question had suffered in this very room.

Which is enough to send Geto-san into an ecstatic flurry of applause. “H-Holy shit. Where have you been all my life?”

He’s more focused on the way the weight in your lips shift rather than that being because of a frown. Regardless, you’re still a picture despite it. “You’re gonna fit nicely. — My address is on the card. Come by nine? I’ll have breakfast ready by then.”

He turns with a relaxed lilt toward the exit. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun.”

The door clicks as the lock disengages.

“Don’t make me come looking for you.”

reblogs are appreciated <3

[ddarker-dreams]

Wanderer x Reader.

just a lil something for the birthday boy <33333333333333333

Atop the tallest tree in Sumeru City, you sit thigh to thigh with your favorite Vahumana student. Your legs dangle over the wide branch’s edge, where you happily swing them back and forth, your spirit as high as your altitude. 

This enthusiasm isn’t mutual. Your companion’s in a fouler mood than usual, thanks to ‘that tedious busybody’ (aka Lesser Lord Kusanali) and a ‘ridiculous bleeding heart’ (aka you). Despite his many colorful complaints, he brought you along to one of his favorite spots. He didn’t drop you like he threatened to either! You’re grateful for every second you’ve gotten to spend not being a mangled splat on the ground. 

“We’re in the nation of wisdom,” You gesticulate wildly to the civilization beneath you. “Knowledge is meant to be shared, not hoarded.”

There’s a deep sigh to your left. 

“You’re incessant.” 

“I have to be, or I’d know nothing about you.” 

“Hah!” He barks a sardonic laugh, “Would that be so terrible?” 

Without hesitation, you respond, “Yes.” 

The Wanderer crosses his arms over his chest, unconvinced. Fortunately, if there’s anything you excel at, it’s proving points that aren’t worth the effort of proving. 

“Consider this! If, during your many passionate attempts at courting me—” 

(“A mistake, no doubt,” he chimes in, which you pointedly ignore).

“—I never learned anything besides the fact you go by a noun and are unfairly pretty, you wouldn’t have succeeded in wooing me. Where would you be then, hm? Brooding in some dark corner, downing bottles of cheap liquor, lamenting what could’ve been but never was? Have you ever considered that?” 

“I'm considering it now. Enviously, at that.” 

The Wanderer snickers at the pained countenance you adopt. You both know that’s a lie. Perhaps he’s tried to convince himself it isn’t, but that’s a him problem. If your attention was a drug, he’d be an addict; hence the integrity of your not-splatted body. 

“Sure, sure, whatever you say. Nonetheless, my point stands. Relationships are about vulnerability. Communication. An open channel that extends both ways,” your plea doesn’t move him. So, you switch to another tactic. “C’mon. Throw me a bone here. Just an itsy bitsy teeny little bone.” 

The Wanderer’s eyebrows pinch together, his lips set in a thin line. Incandescent indigo eyes consider you. Persistent as you can be, you’ve never pushed the subject of his past. You can read him like a gauge and know the instant to back off. If he genuinely wanted you to let this go, you would’ve. Sometimes he just likes being fussed over. 

“Why do you want to know how old I am?” 

And here you arrive at the heart of the matter — his birthday. Which, without the involvement of a certain benevolent Archon, would’ve come and gone unbeknownst to you. The Wanderer couldn’t care less about the special day if he tried. While his ‘birth’ may not have been the traditional kind, it’s no less significant to you. 

Your Wanderer, your beloved Kunikuzushi, has been a permanent fixture in recent memory. Wherever you go, he isn’t far behind. He stands up for you when you don’t have the heart to say no, challenges your thoughts as much as you challenge his, and is earnest in every pursuit he deems worth the effort. You adore him. As such, you consider it your personal mission to express this sentiment whenever possible. 

“It’s simple,” you explain. “You need a kiss for each year. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.” 

The Wanderer looks at you like you just spoke another language. “What sort of rule is that?” 

“The only kind worth following.” 

He studies you carefully. You might be good at reading him, but he’s masterful at reading you. A true connoisseur. He knows when you’re lying to yourself before you even know. The concentration on his face relaxes into something amused, almost impish.

Uh oh.

 His shoulders shake as he chuckles at a joke you apparently aren’t in on. 

“Ah, you should’ve led with that,” he’s grinning now, contentment rolling off him in waves. His hand brushes over your collarbones, then your neck, finally settling on your chin. Transfixed by his beauty, you stay still as his face creeps closer. “If the earliest records from that place are to be believed, I’m around 500.” 

You squint.

“Like… five with two zeros at the end���?” 

“If basic arithmetic is to be believed, yes.” 

“... Oh wow, that’s a lot of kisses.” 

The Wanderer’s iris’ gleam. 

“Brilliant deduction,” he rolls his eyes. Then, his wicked grin sharpens, his head tilting to the side in challenge. “Well? I’m waiting. Get to work. And don’t worry — I’ll keep count.” 

Overcoming your initial shock, you press your lips to his in a featherlight kiss. Before he can reciprocate in kind, you pull back, enjoying the frustration this causes. His eyes narrow into a menacing glare. To soothe the irritation you’ve caused, you kiss his hand, gazing up at him from beneath your eyelashes as you do so. 

Involuntary shivers claim his body. 

Wordlessly, you stare at one another. Anticipation thrums in the air. 

And then you’re upon one another once more — where you remain until the count reaches zero. 

[spaghettiposts]

An Outlaws Christmas

Cowboy!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summery: Wanda’s father has never liked you, but that won’t stop you from delivering a special gift this season.

Warnings: Mentions of firearms, fluff, Bucky being dramatic.

Words Count: 3.5k

“Bucky I swear to God, you better keep this thing steady.” You muttered between cold breaths, raising your foot to the next step, sensing the ladder tremble beneath you. Your eyes whipped downward, glaring at the cowboy.

He huffed, gripping the ladder tighter. “You just- had to date the rich girl with a four-story mansion didntcha?” He seethed, shifting his weight to support the item. “It’s fucking freezing man.”

Indeed, it was freezing. The middle of December in Fort Worth brought snow gleaming in the streets, covering trails and displeasing the horses. Which you had to use to get here in the first place, Wanda’s house that is. More precisely her fathers house, who wasn’t so keen about you. Why were you here? Simple.

Christmas, the season of giving, in any weather condition. And in any condition you always wanted to visit Wanda, even if Bucky complained about it. Especially tonight, when it was Christmas night. Where family’s would spend their nights together, huddled by the fireplace. Something you wanted to share with Wanda someday.

Something an outlaw like you couldn’t have, but you tried anyway. You tried for her, tried to change your rugged ways. Formerly around this time of year you never would’ve imagined a reason to celebrate this holiday. There was nobody special in your life, no family, and Bucky never liked Christmas ideals.

Now there was Wanda to be that someone. Beautiful, intelligent, amazingly talented Wanda. The girl who went for someone like yourself, a lowlife criminal trying to mend their ways. She saw the good in you, that you failed to see in yourself. And bit by bit she brought it out of you. Blackmail Barnes would constantly use on you, mocking you as the ‘cowboy who got whipped’ or ‘cowboy gone soft’ and his personal favorite ‘Casanova’. Despite the smacks you gave him each time he dared to use those terms, secretly you didn’t mind, it just meant you were closer to change than before. With that in mind, you didn’t let the opportunity to make Wanda your girlfriend pass by you, despite her parents disapproval.

Maybe if you got a better job, in time that would change too.

“Just keep the ladder steady Barnes, I’ll be finished quick.” You hollered over the wind, climbing up with haste. Looking through the windows you recognized them as the third floor, for the servants Wanda had told you. Rich people had rooms for everything nowadays.

“Quick my ass..” He scoffed.

“Was that sarcasm James?”

He let out a groan, pounding his fist on the ladder. “Just get your girl already”

“Alright alright…” You chuckled under your breath, hurrying up the ladder. You didn’t want to risk his impatience, the last thing you wanted was for him to throw you off. Fortunately, with the heavy snowfall, you’d probably only break one rib.

Although Wanda wouldn’t be happy, so you wouldn’t risk it.

Finally, the ladder came to an end, perfectly syncing with Wanda’s bedroom window. You were grateful to Mr. Williamson, your local carpenter, took your request for a 40 foot ladder seriously. Raising up your fist to knock–as you had done so many times before–you found yourself plagued with…hesitancy.

Pulling the poorly wrapped package out of your interior coat pockets, you examined the item. Its contaminants inside were beautiful, even you could admit, but the outside? Poorly wrapped crumbles of brown lunch bag paper with white string holding all the mess together? Was what was on the inside enough for Wanda?

Feeling another shake on the ladder you turned your head down, meeting the eyes of Bucky. He motioned to the window with his head, shooting you a thumbs up. You mouthed a small ‘thanks’ to him, right now wasn’t the time for insecurities. You’re sure Wanda would love the gift, or at least appreciate the gesture.

Clearing your throat, you tapped on the window, announcing yourself, “Wanda! It’s me! Do you mind opening the window?” You asked, waiting for the velvet curtains to part. In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure she was there at the moment. You knew the tendency her parents had of venturing off into parties, dragging her along into them and you assumed Christmas parties were a thing.

A couple of seconds later, you heard shuffling from inside, the curtains opening and your smile widening. Wanda looked through the window, searching for you till her eyes landed on your figure covered in snow. Her eyes widened, her hand lifting up to her chin in shock, “Y/n?”

“Hi Darlin’.” You shot the bewildered woman a toothy grin, lifting your hand to wave at her. Carefully she opened the window slowly, making sure not to knock you over in the process. Her shock eventually subsided into worry, grabbing you by the wrist to pull you inside.

“What are you doing here? It’s cold out, you’ll get sick.” She fretted, patting your forearms to shake off the snow.

“I’ve got my jacket,” You shrugged, her hands staying on your chest. “and I’m here for you. I brought you something for Christmas.” You smiled, digging through your pockets, Wanda tilted her head curiously. Pulling out the paper present you presented it to her.

Her eyes looked down at the gift fondly, she could tell you had wrapped it but thankfully found it endearing. Her fingers ran delicately through the string tying it together, as she turned to look at you with soft eyes and a tender smile tugging at her lips.

“Really?” She whispered, rubbing her hands on your chest before letting them hang on your shoulders. Her smile turned into a small smirk at the way you clearly leaned into her touch. “You didn’t have to Y/n…”

Truthfully you didn’t have to, Wanda had expressed how she was fine with you not celebrating the holiday, knowing how different your childhoods had been. She didn’t expect anything from you, a problem you wanted to change. You were capable enough for her to depend on you.

You blushed, enjoying the feel of Wanda’s fingers caressing the back of your neck. “But I want to, it’s custom to give your loved ones gifts and you’re mine.” You said sheepishly.

Wanda’s face softens at your words, keeping her gaze on you, searching for something more. And you think she’s going to close the distance but instead she moves her gaze to the door, squeezing your shoulders.

“Okay, but I’m afraid this’ll have to be quick.” She sighs “My Fathers due to be back soon, and you know how he feels about our relationship.”

At the mention of her father your expression turns into a slight grimace, the man was a governor, rich beyond belief and trying to get rid of old fashion ways. Including individuals such as yourself, outlaws. He had reason to, but still the thought of him left a bitter distaste in your mouth.

“He’ll learn to love me eventually.”

Wanda lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head in denial. “I highly doubt it, he’s very…traditional.”

Traditional. You hated that word.

“I could be traditional.” You tried to reason, even though you were the least bit traditional. It was worth a shot.

“With that rustic drawl of yours I’m not too sure Detka.” Wanda teased, leaning up to place a kiss on the corner of your lips. You wanted to correct her but she continued, “But that’s okay, personally I find it very charming.”

And then she closed the distance between you, savoring the way you let out a small sigh. You missed this, you missed her, you especially missed her touch. The way her hands guided yours down to her waist, encouraging you.

Wanda appreciated your kindness and respect towards boundaries. Making you all the more attractive in her eyes, the way you’d ask before anything, even hand holding, your charming gentleman like behavior. God, she wanted to rip those jeans off you.

You felt Wanda try to deepen the kiss which you eagerly gave into, granting her tongue permission. Her hands slipped inside your shirt, scratching the skin softly, causing your breath to hitch. Pulling away from the kiss with a gasp, resting your forehead against yours, catching your breath.

Wanda snickers between stolen kisses. “Damn it Wands…” You mumble affectedly, “This was ‘post to be about you.”

Pulling her head slightly away she stares up at you, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. “We have a couple minutes to spare, me and you.” Her hold tightened on your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

Taking everything in you, you slow down the kiss much to Wanda’s disappointment. You chuckle shyly, remembering how she told you to be quick, ironic. “I’ve missed you too but not- today” You shudder with all seriousness, removing your hands from her hips.

“Mkay, I suppose we could wait for another moment.” She says, releasing her hold on you. “Besides you know I like taking my time with you.” She winks, laughing at your reaction.

“Quit teasin’ me…” You sigh, trying to shake off the blush dusting your cheeks, something that tended to happen with Wanda. The brunette only shrugged, feigning innocence. She took a hold of your wrist pulling you towards her bed, taking a seat and then patting the space beside her. Eagerly you settle in beside her, placing the gift on her lap.

“Open it.” You smile, anticipating the reaction.

Wanda fiddles with the present, tilting her head. “What is it?”

You snort “Well you won’t know until you open it Wands.”

Pursing her lips Wanda tugs on the strings, delicately unwrapping the gift which you didn’t really get, considering it wasn’t some high class material but kept quiet. Once the paper wrapping was off it revealed a rectangular shaped black leather box, it looked rather expensive. Feeling the leather Wanda confirmed her thoughts with widened eyes. Pure rich leather.

Her fingers traced the fabric, turning to stare at you. “Y/n what is this…” She whispered, you urged her to open the lid. And when she did the gasp that left her lips was almost comical. “Oh my gosh.”

“It’s a pendant.” You pointed out, feeling a little uncomfortable under her strong gaze. Did she like it? If only mind readers existed.

“Yes I know but, how?” She questioned, picking up the necklace before frowning. It was beautiful. “Detka…I don’t need you spending this much on me. This looks far too pricy.” Came her response, you sucked your teeth already expecting that answer from her. Wanda was never one to let you spoil her, knowing how much you made, odd considering you made a good amount…with a gun.

“Saving up money isn’t that hard, you’ve just gotta kill the right men to get it.” You smile sheepishly, a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Y/n.” Wanda glared, disliking your joke.

“I’m joking! Honest.” You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender. “Actually this jewel wasn’t so hard to find.”

“You found it?”

“Yup, mined it straight from that rock. Me and Barnes were chasing after a guy…” You hesitated, her raised eyebrow challenging you to finish that sentence. “To talk, down in the mines, when I found it. It reminded me of you, just like your eyes. So I plucked it open and took it to a jeweler. All's fair, no shooting involved.” You swore, crossing a finger across your heart.

Wanda just shook her head, rubbing her temple with her hand. You could tell she was upset at the revelation, she never appreciated hearing stories that could’ve killed you. Another thing you were trying to change, this one was more challenging as there were many people who wanted you dead, the difficult part was getting Wanda to understand that.

Both of you were stubborn that way.

“Does that…make it worse?” You asked carefully, debating whether to put a hand on her back, eventually deciding against and placing it back on your side. You didn’t want to overwhelm her. “I could get you one from the store if you’d like. I saw some real pretty ones there too.”

“That makes it all the more special to me, you mined it straight from the rock and fixed it up but you know how I feel about your ‘talks’.” She ended with a slightly twinge of annoyance. “I just worry about you and your job.”

You fiddled with the sheets underneath your fingertips, unsure what to say about that besides an apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you.”

Worrying was something no one had ever cared to do for you in your lifetime, not until Wanda. The feeling was strange…and something to get used to. You tried to be more understanding towards Wanda’s feelings, having picked up a book or two on how to maintain a healthy relationship, and Wanda was gladly by your side throughout the process.

“Its fine really, so long as you come back to me alive.” She empathized the last word, giving you a stern look. You nodded your head, agreeing with her. Lifting up her chin, carrying a satisfied look by your response, she trusted you. “If not I’ll come back and kill you myself.”

“Honey, me and you both know that you don’t know your way around a revolver.” You teased, leaning in forward to grasp her hand and place a small peck on the back of it.

“Just like you don’t know your way around the kitchen?” She retorted smugly, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

“I know my way…my meals are cooked with the intent of survival.”

“Clearly taste isn’t a part of your ideologies of ‘survival’.” She sneered, you tried to hide your smile but ultimately failed, laughing along with her.

The atmosphere had shifted, no longer holding that same tension as it did before. Worries and insecurities had left you, laughing along with the girl you had grown to love. You loved moments like these, carefree ones. Ones where you didn’t have to worry about wild snakes or bandits trying something. Ones where you could be happy with the person you loved most.

Admiring your girlfriend you couldn’t help yourself but to lean forward and cup her chin, connecting your lips together. It was a quick kiss, one you pulled away from as quick as it started, not permitting Wanda the chance to kiss back.

Instead she stared at you in shock, cheeks red. You had initiated something. Feeling flustered from the attention you looked down at your lap in embarrassment, which was quickly overtaken by Wanda who threw herself on you in glee, pampering kisses all over your face.

“I love you.” She whispered, kissing your cheeks. “Even if you’re a reckless idiot who climbs up four story mansions, and is a part time bounty hunter.” A kiss to your nose “But you’re my idiot.” A kiss to your forehead “Forever.” And finally your lips.

“Forever?”

“Mhm, mind putting this on me?” She requested, grabbing the necklace chain. You nodded happily, watching her shift in your lap to get a better view. Gently you pushed her hair aside, bringing the jewelry round her neck. It took a couple of frustrating attempts to get inside the clasp but eventually you managed, closing it.

Wanda thanked you with another kiss before moving herself off your lap and standing to get a view of the necklace in the mirror. Pushing yourself off the bed, you followed your girlfriend into her closet, admiring how divine the jewel looked on her.

“You look gorgeous.” You sighed, hearts racing at just the sight of her.

Wanda smiled, toying with the jewel. “It’s very pretty, I love it, thank you.” She reassured, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a loving kiss on the cheek. You smile back at her, taking the initiative to bring your lips together this time, sharing a loving kiss. That’s all it was, love.

Wanda smiled happily into the kiss, proud of you for taking initiative again, slotting her arms back on your neck. Tilting her head to deepen the kiss she pulled away, “But you know what would’ve been nicer?”

“What?”

“A ring.”

“A ring?”

“If this was your way of claiming your mark on me, it was a nice attempt but usually people settle for rings.” She replied, playing with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. “Which I’m still waiting for, maybe that way you’ll have a reason to put that gun down for once. A family to come back to.”

A family.

Oh gosh.

Hoping it wasn’t embarrassingly obvious how much you enjoyed that idea, you barely managed to squeak out a small, “But you like the necklace right…?”

“Of course, it’ll be hard to take it off of me now.” Wanda retorted playfully “Unless you’re willing to try?”

“I um.” You swallowed dryly, definitely now you knew your face was looking as ripe as a tomato.

At your expression Wanda let out a hearty laugh, furthering your embarrassment. She slapped an arm at your chest playfully, “I’m just teasing Detka, breathe. Although I’m serious about that, I’ll wear it forever.”

“I’m glad you like it. Like really glad, I wasn’t too sure and Bucky wasn’t much help.” You said, recalling the way Bucky had fallen asleep midway through your shopping session in search of something for the girl.

“I can see that he's never been the romantic type, unless you count that disastrous encounter with Natasha as romance then, maybe.” Both of you cringed at the memory.

Sputters of a car garnered your attention distracting you from the girl in your arms. The noise sounded suspiciously like her fathers new automobile, quickly you removed your hands from Wanda’s body. Wanda too, let you go at impressive speeds, rushing to take a look outside the window. Peering outside she was met with the sight of her father, who was kicking the tire of his car, muttering curses under his breath.

Oh shit her father.

Oh shit Bucky.

“Bucky.” You gasped, collecting your things. “Shit shit shit, Buckys still outside.”

“My fathers here.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, your eyes widened, rushing to get out of there. Before you could get too far Wanda stopped you with a tug at your forearm, smacking a box at your chest.

“What’s this?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed, pushing the box back to get a better look at it. Quickly Wanda tugged your chin to meet her, placing one last peck on your lips before pulling the window open.

“Christmas gift.” She explained, “I don’t like what you do, and this isn’t me encouraging it, but you’re my girlfriend and I love you. So that’s that, now go before I change my mind.”

You nodded your head dumbly, unsure what she meant by all that, but climbed out anyway, waving her goodbye with the box secured in your hands.

Once you reached the bottom it was only then that you realized what she meant by those words, a new rifle stood in your hands. One of the best models out there. Grinning widely you took no time in ripping it out of the box, oh how you loved this girl.

—

“Fouty fucking minutes.” Bucky snarled, still shaking the snow off his body. There wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t white from head to toe. “Forty! You left me in the cold for Forty minutes!!” He shook his leather hat violently, slapping it around.

You sighed, taking the hat off your head and dusting yourself as well. In contrast you weren’t so full of snow, which just upset the man more. “I’m sorry Buck, I didn’t mean to take so long, but it was amazing.” The last part came out in awe.

Bucky placed his hat back on firmly, throwing a glare at you. He knew that voice, that puppy love coded tone of yours that only ever arose to haunt him when you were on the verge of an hour talk about Wanda. He debated shooting you right now before you started again.

“Forty minutes…I could’ve gotten frostbite you know, then who’s gonna cover you? Wanda? Like hell.” He muttered, narrowing his eyes at you when you pulled out your new rifle. One of the newest models too, he had to admit he was quite envious.

“She’s so amazing…”

“Are you even listening to me?!” He said exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.

“She gave me a gun…” You sighed dreamily, hugging the firearm to your chest. “Not just any gun Bucky, but a Winchester Model. The expensive good kind too.” You exclaimed, shaking him by the shoulders. His face scrunched up, smacking you away.

Bucky huffed from beside you, continuing to walk since you were too lovesick to lead. The building wasn’t too far from here. “She got me a good revolver too, you ain’t special.”

“Yeah but…mines better.”

“That doesn’t even- whatever you still took too damn long in there.”

“I haven’t seen her in weeks!” You whined, trying to defend yourself.

Bucky let out a grunt, rolling his eyes. “Yeah and you won’t see her in weeks, with all that back pain you’re gonna get.”

“What?”

“I call dibs on the good mattress, you fucked with me too much this time.” He shrugged, opening the door to your shared building.

“That’s not-”

“And by the way, I can still see her lipstick all over you.” He motioned to your face, before pointing down your neck. “You might wanna cover up those hickeys too, Bottom.”

“James!”

[lemonlover1110]

"I like sharing a bed with you. You're not such bad company, really."

With Gojo would be great! I can't wait to see love! You're amazing and deserve all the happiness in the world ❤️

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Part of this little prompt game I'm doing for the day (perhaps the week), come join!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“It’s snowing.” You announce, looking out the large window of Satoru’s apartment. Satoru looks in the same direction, watching the snowfall peacefully. It makes a subtle smile appear on his lips. 

Satoru invited you to his apartment for dinner and a movie since it had been a while since the last time the two of you had gone out. Nothing sounds better than staying in since it’s too cold outside to really go anywhere. You didn’t think that Satoru would have an ulterior motive, but the smile on his lips tells you something else. Then he reveals himself, telling you, “Seems like you’ll have to spend the night.”

“Satoru–” You sigh, and before you know it, you’re in pajamas that he bought for you, getting ready to go to bed. Since Satoru has you trapped in his apartment, you try to convince him to do some skincare with you, but the man refuses. 

He lays in his bed, nearly naked as he waits for you to join him. When you finally finish your nightly routine with the products that he bought for you. For some reason he got almost everything right, making you question just how much your boyfriend knows you– You aren’t complaining though, the man spent a fortune on everything.

You walk over to the bed and lay down beside him, where he throws the bedsheets over you, making sure you don’t end up cold. If that’s not enough, he throws his arm over you, and brings you to his chest.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” You comment. He simply could’ve just asked you to stay the night, and you would’ve happily agreed. His bed is comfier, and Satoru doesn’t snore either so he’s a delight to sleep next to. However, he doesn’t say the same about you. “I thought I snored sometimes, and I kicked you in your sleep– If not I would talk in my sleep and–”

“I love sharing a bed with you, baby. You’re not bad company at all.” He cuts you off. He complains but he can’t wait till he’s forced to share a bed with you each and every night. He kisses the top of your head.

“Don’t complain in the morning, then.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’s still going to complain in the morning, you simply kick him too much. He wouldn’t give it up for anything else though.

[himexyandere]

Yandere Headcanons Pt. 2

Content Warning(s): Obsessive behavior, malpractice, gaslighting, manipulation, drugging

A/N: These are just more yandere HC's that I thought of and wanted to post ^^ I haven't written anything here for a while, so I figured I'd post something! Not sure what my next post will be, honestly, I'll probably do a poll and ask what you guys would like to see. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! <3

Yandere!Doctor who keeps you in his hospital by occasionally slipping different harmless drugs into your meals that makes you a little lightheaded and exhibit signs of being feverish, thus extending your visit.

Had someone told you that you would be staying for a bit at a hospital with your favorite doctor, you probably would’ve been elated to hear such a thing!

That wasn’t necessarily the case, however — yes, he was your favorite doctor and he’d always called you his “star patient” when the two of you were alone, but you weren’t exactly a huge fan of hospitals 

Staying for more than a week was already too much for you, yet he still wouldn’t let you leave 

“My dear, you may not think your symptoms are worrying, but they certainly are. A fever that comes and goes at random is nothing to treat lightly. I will be extending your stay until you feel better.” 

During your first week, a male nurse was the one who came to bring you your food and medicine, occasionally striking up casual conversations with you to help you feel more comfortable in such a quiet, sterile place 

After another week or so, you hadn’t seen him again. Confused, you asked your doctor where the nurse went and he gave you a seemingly perturbed frown 

“I’m sorry, dear, but we had to let him go. One of the other nurses found him assaulting a comatose patient. Terrible, isn’t it? I’m just glad he’s gone now and is no longer a danger to anyone… Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Had a month gone by already? You honestly couldn’t tell anymore. Your doctor was the only one who visited your room, stating that visitation was on hold for a while due to some issue or another—

He’s the doctor so why would you question him? He only wants what’s best for his “star patient”, after all

You were originally in for a small health scare at work, but now…

Yandere!Househusband who clings to you, slightly causing a bit of concern amongst your friends and family, but you feel like his clinginess is normal... At first.

He acted like the two of you were still a newlywed couple or something 

He always, always, always craves your attention, wanting to be close to you whenever feasible

This meant that leaving home to go to your job every morning was a nearly impossible feat, considering he rarely ever let you escape his arms (at least not without some bribery first) 

“If you promise to spend the entire weekend with me here in our home, then I’ll let you leave for work. How’s that sound, darling?” 

This was a common occurrence, leading you to spend most, if not all, of your free time cuddling up with your husband at home, watching corny movies and eating snacks. 

Your friends and family started seeing less and less of you, prompting them to call and visit your home more often with questions about where you’ve been. You always tell them that you’re fine and you’ve just been spending some time relaxing with your hubby 

He was delighted by your replies and would later tell you after they left that he loves you so, so much 

He does get anxious at times, though, wondering constantly if you’re annoyed with him or if you secretly hate his clinginess and overwhelming adoration

After you told him that you would be going to hang out with your friends one evening, he nearly lost it in front of you. Fortunately, he managed to maintain a gentle smile as he encouraged you to go and have a good time 

When you got back later that night, your husband informed you that he’d scheduled a getaway for your upcoming anniversary! He’s already called your job and put in for PTO, so you don’t have to worry your little head—you’re going to have so much fun… Just the two of you.

[whiskersz]

Heyy, could u do a head canon/one shot (or anything else whatever u want) about fem angel!reader and adam just being cute together maybe her preening him like birds do bc I love to think of the angels just as big ass birds haha or anything else cute for that matter.

If u don't want to that's completely fine of course hope u have a great day/night!!

*taps fingers together* hey...I know I said I wouldn't post today but like, I'm a little silly!

Loved writing this even though it's short...enjoy!!

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Adam x Fem! Angel! Reader - Preening

You sat behind Adam, facing his back on his king sized bed, a large towel laid underneath you and a couple products that you had grabbed from his bathroom placed beside you. In the warmth of a late afternoon, he had called you for an alleged emergency, and you, being the caring girlfriend that you were, had immediately rushed to his place.

The emergency had simply turned out to be a couple feathers out of place in his wings, but on further inspection he clearly needed a good preening session from your more expert hands.

“I told you to do this every now and again, Adam.” You gently scolded him, applying some smoothing cream starting from the base of his wings. He let out a content hum before retorting;

“Yeah, yeah. Already told you I do it enough times.”

“And how often do you mean by ‘enough times’?”

You couldn’t see it, but he rolled his eyes at the question.

“Like, once a week.” He heard you huff, “I’m a busy man, babe.”

You resisted nagging him, focusing on the task at hand instead. His feathers looked slightly rough, differently from yours and the other Angels’, who usually preened at least once a day. It was like taking care of your hair after all, you thought.

Glad that you didn’t have anything else to say, he lowered his gaze back on his phone, concentrating on some videogame he had recently downloaded to pass the time. He had this habit of keeping the volume really high no matter where he was, while you would’ve preferred to listen to the birds chirping outside and the gentle buzzing of the city in the distance, but you were too focused to complain now.

Fortunately he got bored of the game pretty quickly, allowing you to smooth out each feather with the cream in silence. You slowly got to the longer feathers of his left wing, which you had to get on your knees to reach since they were so far away. He tucked his wings in a bit to help you.

“Thank you darling, but I’m gonna need them to be sprawled out to do this properly.”

He let out a small ‘oh’ before stretching his wing out again, unhappy that his attempt to make this easier for you had gone to waste.

You kept working silently, helped by the orange-ish light coming from outside; his curtains had been hung to the side to let more light in.

Adam had to admit that feeling your hands work on his wings was rather relaxing; he rested his unmasked face against his hand and allowed himself to close his eyes. Had he been lying down, he was sure he would’ve fallen asleep.

You smiled and paused to gently kiss the back of his neck, a gesture he had grown fond of especially whilst you were preening his wings or he was busy trying to cook something in the kitchen.

“I love you.” you casually said, starting to work on his right wing.

“Love you too, angel face.”

[dixons-sunshine]

Surprises | Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

“Murphy, oh my god…”

Murphy chuckled lightly at your reaction to his surprise. He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head. “You like it, my love?” he inquired in a soft whisper, his cerulean eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Like it?” you echoed with a disbelieving laugh. “I love it! It’s amazing!” You turned around in his embrace, your arms coming up to loop around his neck. “But how? It must’ve cost a fortune.” You frowned slightly at your own words, realization dawning on you. “How much did it cost? Murph, you know how I feel about—”

“About me spendin’ a lot of money on you.” Murphy smiled at you softly, his thumbs idly tracing shapes on your hips. “I know, my love. I promise it didn’t cost too much.”

“Murph—”

“I promise,” he repeated his words, his tone sincere and honest. “I wouldn’t have bought it for you if it would’ve broken the bank, las. I promise this didn’t force me to declare bankruptcy.” Murphy smiled fondly when he heard a light giggle fall from your lips. “There’s that smile I love. Now c’mon, let’s go check out your new ride, yeah?”

You could barely contain your excitement at his words. You nodded and detangled yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace, before practically sprinting towards the new—well, slightly used, but new to you—car that stood in front of the apartment building. Your eyes trailed over the vehicle, pure, unadulterated happiness being evident on your face.

Murphy laughed lightly at your eagerness and followed behind you. When he reached you again, he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, shifting your attention back to him. He simply reached into his pocket and withdrew the keys to the car. He dangled them in front of you, looking at you expectantly.

“Well, what’re ya waitin’ for? Test ‘er out.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. With an excited smile sent in his direction, you took the keys from his grasp and bounded over to the driver’s side. However, before you got in, you sent him an expectant look. “Are you just gonna stand there and look pretty or are you gonna join me?”

Murphy smiled and fondly shook his head at your eagerness. “M’comin’.” He walked over to the passenger’s side and got in, closing the door behind him. His gaze trailed over to you as you followed his lead, slightly adjusting the car seat to your liking. When your eyes met his, he motioned over to the steering wheel. “Start ‘er up.”

You did just that. You turned the key in the ignition and successfully started the car. The vehicle roared to life with a loud rumble, and you couldn’t help the laugh of wonder that escaped you. Gone were the days of walking to work or having to ask for a ride from other people. You had your own car now, courtesy of the man you loved more than anything else in the world.

Before you lowered the handbrake and even attempted to start driving, you leaned over to Murphy and gently took his face in your hands. You pressed your lips against his softly, hoping that the kiss could convey your true love and appreciation, because you were sure that words were going to fail you.

Murphy was the first to pull back. He regarded you with a loving smile, his eyes flickering over your face. “You’re welcome, my beautiful girl.”

You didn’t even have to say anything for him to understand what you meant, and you loved that about him. In fact, you loved everything about the man next to you. Murphy MacManus was an amazing man, and you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend than him.

You gently rubbed your thumb over his cheek, a small smile on your face. “I love you, Murph.”

Murphy smiled at you, before turning his head to press a soft, tender kiss to your wrist. “I love ya more, las,” he whispered, before leaning back. He placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. “Now c’mon. How ‘bout we go to that ice cream parlour a couple of blocks over? Consider it my treat.”

“Yeah,” you agreed vehemently. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

[readerwithsalt]

I think Hazel should’ve gone with Nico instead down to Tartarus. Without a prophecy or quest bc Nico and Hazel don’t play by the rule book.

Then we could’ve gotten an adorable underworld sibling bonding book with both of them hilariously being unaware of modern stuff. And telling each other stuff they’ve learned.

They ditch both of their boyfriends who are freaking out because they don’t know where they snuck off to. And since Nico said in HoH that when he and Hazel shared power that anything felt possible, they truly believe they can succeed.

(Also Hazel understands death and wouldn’t be complaining every five seconds like Will was. Maybe it would’ve been more original and less percabeth 2.0 (but worse)

It begins with Nico leaving Camp Jupiter, having visited Hazel (for what he believes could be the last time) and telling Will he would be back in a week or so. A lie Nico tells to keep his boyfriend from coming after him to Tartarus (way more in character of him lol) as he believes a child of Apollo would easily be snuffed out down there.

Nico realizes he’s throwing a good possible future away by sneaking out to do this, but the nightmares have become so twisted and unbearably disturbing that he fears he’s going to lose his mind either way if he doesn’t manage to find the person calling out his name every night.

He also doesn’t like when others are left behind.

Since Will has insisted Nico not use shadowtravel to get back to New York from California, Nico says he’s going to take the train instead.

But Hazel KNOWS someone is off. Knows Nico is hiding something. Something that causes her brothers eyes to tinge red when he hugs her, gives her a wobbly goodbye, and squeezes just a bit too tight. Something that causes the paper thin smile he gives her when she sees him off to board his train.

Something that inexplicably makes her sneak onto that train behind him.

Upon Nico putting his stuff away in the closet of his train compartment and finding a head of cinnamon brown curls say ‘ouch’ when he accidentally throws his suitcase on top of a stowaway sister, being mad is a bit of an understatement…

When Hazel knowingly questions why he’s so upset at her, Nico suddenly has no words.

They eat in the trains dining room, Chinese noodles with strangely large fortune cookies that they save for later.

Hazel doesn’t manage to get anything out of Nico as they sit side by side next to a window, watching the world whoosh by and making idle chatter that Nico only seems to be half heartedly replying to. Seeing her brothers zoned out gaze, thin hands shaking slightly, the ever present tinge of red and fear ringing his large dark eyes, Hazel knows this is something more than wrong.

If the bravest demigod she’s ever met looks this terrified, to her it can only mean one thing.

Her suspicion is proven correct when her and Nico crack open their fortune cookies from dinner and instead of a thin piece of white with a generic quote on the paper… two small black parchments with gold lettering come out instead.

Two warnings. From what god? They don’t know.

Hazel’s questioning dies on her tongue when she sees the thin lines of tears falling from her brothers eyes. She doesn’t ask him anything else that night, just wraps a hug around him as frail shoulders shake in her arms.

The next day Nico acts as if nothing happened and asks her if frank knows she’s okay which she sheepishly replies that he probably doesn’t even know where she is. Nico says the same about Will, and they decide to not tell their current boyfriends anything yet.

Yet…. After the incident of last night and the fortune cookie parchment mentioning a place that hazel has definitely heard of before, she knows exactly what Nico is planning.

And she’s not letting anything happen to him as long as she’s alive. Even if Nico insists on pretending Hazel doesn’t know anything.

After the long train ride and Nico questioning this one random passenger for an hour about the strange gaming device in his hands (a Nintendo lol) and the siblings chatting about mundane things happening in their camps; they finally are in Manhattan.

Hazel is now done with letting Nico pretend.

Before she can get a word out the word ‘No’ has already passed her brothers lips. They fight. Their first actual fight ever. One that ends in sobs wrecking through Nicos body and pangs of guilt, sadness, and anger piercing Hazels heart.

But one thing rises above them all:

Protectiveness.

After making up and Nico realizing Hazels not ever going to back down given the look in her eyes, he realizes he doesn’t have a say in this. She is coming with him whether he likes it or not. Fear plummets in his stomach.

After a trip to Target for food and supplies for the trip that neither of them currently want to think about because what they are planning to do is… insane. Literally insane. But as Nico remembers that feeling of the time he and Hazel shared their power that one time, a thread of hope starts to weave in his heart. Psychotic hope, but still hope nonetheless.

They shadowtravel to Central Park, Nico not feeling nearly as woozy with Hazels help. He also delightfully finds out that coffee seems to cure the fatigue from using that side of his powers lol.

They manage to open the doors of Orpheus’ by ‘borrowing’ a guys phone as they see him jog by, and play some random song called ‘into the dark’ (by death cab for cuties lol) from the guys playlist holding it up to the opening.

The song sounds like another warning. They both ignore it.

They travel down dark steps, hands clasped. They talk in the quiet empty smelling air, comfortable in the underground silence. Until faint light hits their faces. The ever constant line of fresh souls lead them to Charons boat where they are taken to the land of the dead.

They now must avoid detection from their father at all costs. Nicos not worried about Charon tattling on them to Hades since he doesn’t get paid enough anyway (lol). Nico takes Hazel to meet the trogs new home down in the underworld (one thing I liked in tsats).

Hazel adores them and their funny outfits.

The trogs tell Nico that his ‘really deep tunnel’ he requested they dig is almost done, and Hazel is hurt that Nicos been planning this so long without telling her or anybody. They make Nico and Hazel spend the night with them before they go and they play with the baby trogs and dance together, trying to forget what they’re going to do tomorrow. They fall asleep to the sound of baby trogs giggling next to them.

The next day Nico attempts to sneak away from Hazel one more time and Hazel explodes at him. Anger making her say some things she doesn’t want to and Nico apologizing profusely but saying he’s angry at himself for allowing her to come with him.

They are interrupted by the trogs leader saying the Tunnel Into the Dark is finished. They can feel the intense suction of The Pit even from several feet away. Memories of the first time Nico was sucked down threaten to spill over and embarrassingly makes him want to run and hide somewhere.

But he feels Hazels hand in his and that strange, wonderful feeling of intense power. And love. And then they are straddling a boat the trogs pull from the river of forgotten dreams (the Styx I think) and with one final push… they are falling.

On the boat it feels like they’re floating.

They fall for a very long time. But Nico notices it’s not as long as the first time. Or maybe it doesn’t feel that long bc someone is here beside him.

They use their shared geokinisis powers to make an enormous slide of bones, black dirt, and stone.

When the boat hits the ground Nico almost gets flung face first into the Phlegethon river. They drink from it and begin the search.

They devastatingly find out the voice was never Bob bc Bob was absorbed into tartarus’s breastplate (like in actual canon HoH) but that it was something else entirely.

Something that makes Nico perhaps the angriest he’s ever been.

They find Jason’s soul down there. Something that shocks both Nico and Hazel to the core. Nico thinks it’s a trick but soon can tell that the soul that is looking at him so coldly and unfamiliar is actually Jason.

A different Jason. One with hatred illuminating every thread of his form.

That’s why Nico didn’t know where Jason’s spirit had gone. It had been intercepted by something and Jason has turned into a mania like his mother. A spirit that fumes on hatred and forgotten dreams. The one thing he never wanted to be.

Nico cries over the horrid inevitable fate of Bob and promises that he will ALWAYS be remembered. He doesn’t have much time to think on this though because right now a livid son of Jupiter is rising higher and higher above Nico and Hazel, the threat is obvious.

In Jason’s manic state he blames Nico for not checking on him and seeing that he got a peaceful afterlife and greives the fact that Piper and Leo and Nico ‘never bothered’ to attend his funeral. He blames the gods, his father especially, for being unworthy of their demigod children. He blames the underworlds justice system not following up on his missing soul and dismissing his entire life as if it was nothing.

As if he was never a hero. Never anything at all.

Nicos is crushed, but realizes that Jason’s being manipulated by something. A dream demon that wanted to trap Nico the entire time in order to consume his energy/power and shadow travel out of his prison and into the mortal world bc it would’ve taken him years to get out otherwise.

The dream demon used its powers to intercept Jason’s soul thanks to Caligulas cursed blade that had killed him, and reached inside his mind to find out about Nico and figure out the best way to get Nico to come back to his worst nightmare.

And now that Hazel and Nico are both there that’s double the power to consume.

Turns out the entire thing was simply about a selfish monster playing with demigods. A tale as old as the beginning of mythology.

The demon taunts them saying he used Jason - son of the King of the Gods - as a little toy in order to easily bring his meal to him. Remarking how easy and quick it was to bait someone like Nico.

Someone who can never leave someone behind.

And Hazel, how easy it was to get her to follow her brother. Taunting that she’s just as stupid, gullible, and selfless…

The children of the underworld snap.

And all Hades breaks loose. Signaling to every monster within a 100 mile radius to know exactly where they are.

They battle together but the waves and waves of monsters is just too extreme. On the brink of inevitable death, a certain goddess appears.

The one who gave them the warnings in the form of fortune cookies. The one that sensed Nicos need for vengeance.

They escape with Nemesis help, but she wants something equally valuable in return for helping Nico and Hazel escape. Nico breaks down and agrees to relinquish all of his precious memories of Bianca and his past life in return for Hazel and a new possible future. A true balance in his heart.

Choosing Hazel over memories of Bianca makes Hazel cry and they bond stronger.

Strangely enough Nico becomes happier without the constant grief of his older sister on his shoulder.

In a way choosing to let her go the same way she did when she chose to be with the hunters.

And then once again when she chose reincarnation.

They still have to worry about Jason though who is constantly causing blood thunderstorms across Tartarus’s sky and wrecking havoc all over the place.

(Also it would be so funny to see Jason literally just… chase Nico and Hazel all over the place… flying after them screaming while they run for their lives bc they can’t see or hear due to the bloodstorm & huge booms of thunder and shit lol.)

Hazel manages to trap Jason in a kaleidoscope of his own storm and shadow with her mist magic and her and Nico manage to shadowtravel him to the ghostly boat that will lead them out. She lets him out but he’s struggling so much in his metal binds that Nico has to knock him out with a punch to the face bc he’s the only one that can touch ghosts.

They ferry up the river Acheron out of Tartarus and chat about what the fuck just happened down there.

Hades awaits them when they arrive.

He’s very angered that his two only living children disobeyed his strict order of not going down there, but relinquishes it eventually when he realizes how tired and beat up his kids look and praises them instead. Hades turns to Nico and states that his older sister would be proud of him. Which Nico replies with confusion saying he doesn’t have an older sister which saddens hades as he figures out what Nico had to give away.

He offers them both something they want.

Anything.

Hazel wishes for Jason to be cured of his mania, and Nico wishes to give Jason back a chance at life. As he still had so much work to do for the gods and goddesses that did not have shrines and action figures to respect them.

Both of these things surprise hades but he grudgingly does so (bc Jason is a son of Jupiter/zeus) saying that Nico and Hazel are indeed very special children.

Although Hades honors Nicos wish he can’t simply let a soul leave the underworld without a final test (hazel being the exception) and does something he did thousands of years ago with another hero begging for his wife’s soul back.

He tells Nico and Hazel they can lead Jason out of the underworld but only if they don’t look back at him. Across the fields of asphodel, across cerebus’ cavern, across the river styx, the journey on Charons boat, back up the many steps that lead to the mortal world…. If they look back once their friend is gone forever. Again…

They distract themselves with a deck of mythomagic cards Hazel stole from Frank (cause she wanted to know why her brother and boyfriend liked the game so much) much to Nico’s embarrassed delight. Nico’s so into explaining the game to Hazel, that the intense need to check if Jason’s still behind them dissipates a bit.

They only notice they’re outside when a wave of sunlight blinds them both and a large figure grabs them from behind.

Jason hugs the daylights out of Nico & Hazel crying like a little kid as months of memories of torment in Tartarus resurface into guilt.

Hades thinks it’s slightly amusing to see a tall muscular son of Jupiter being consoled by his two smaller children as he mentally watches the scene play out from his godly throne.

Nico says he kept the plans of the shrines Jason wanted to build and says maybe he can help with decorating (lol)

I’m gonna have to get an artist to draw a fancomic of this to heal my soul.

Also…. What the fuck did I just write?

[bookofbonbon]

into the maze - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Plinth!Reader - Saltburn!AU

Warnings: Swearing. Saltburn spoilers. She pushes him, he pushes her.

Summary: Unable to handle your ignorance of him since his return, Coriolanus searches you out in the maze and confronts you.

Word Count: 1.3k.

A/N: Genuinely just obsessed with the maze scene from Saltburn and couldn't help but, think of pathetic little meow meow Coriolanus Snow as Oliver Quick lmao.

The heavy bass of the deafening music shook the very foundation of the Plinth Estate, every colour of the rainbow lighting up the night sky as Panem’s young Capitol elite all gathered to celebrate Coriolanus Snow’s 19th Birthday. 

It was, by all accounts, the perfect birthday, the Plinth’s having gone above and beyond to ensure the event's perfection by spending a small fortune on it. He should’ve been happy, grateful for it but he wasn’t- it was hard for him to express any gratitude when the youngest of the Plinth family spared him naught but a glance and quiet uttering of happy birthday Coriolanus when he arrived- it was the most you’d spoken to him since he returned to the Capitol. 

Taking a swig from the bottle in his hand, he watches you walk hand in hand into the distance with some Capitol boy. Anger swells in his chest, heat rising steadily up his neck as he watches you giggling and hanging off of someone who isn’t him and before he can really think of what he’s doing, Coriolanus finds his feet following after you and into the maze.

You don’t see him, don’t even hear him but, Coriolanus can see you and he can hear you; your angel wings alluding him with every corner you turn, your voice taking on an airiness he’d only ever heard when you were with him- he has to stop you before you make him do something you’ll regret so, when he reaches the centre of the maze, he calls your name.

Your startle, stumbling away from your nameless hookup of the night. With a hand pressed to your chest, you turn quickly trying to find the source of the voice as your heart raced beneath your palm.

“Oh my god.” You squint into the dark, immediately recognising the bleached-blonde hair. “Coryo? What the fuck are you doing here?”

Since his return from the Capitol you had seen him far more than you would’ve liked, your parents taking him under their wing since the death of your older brother. Several months ago, this scenario would’ve absolutely pleased you, to have the person you once thought yourself in love with always so nearby but, not now- not after the hunger games and Lucy Gray. Not when you knew the truth of his role in your brother’s death.

“I need to talk to you,” Coriolanus slurs before, turning to your nameless hook up. “And you? You need to fuck off.”

“No!” you grab ahold of your hookups arm. “You need to stay and Coriolanus, you need to leave.”

“I won’t tell you again,” Coriolanus suddenly threatens, voice hard and seemingly sober. 

Your hookup looks at you with defeat in his eyes. The very real threat that Coriolanus could impose hanging over the both of you so, he mouths an apology and leaves.

“Oh god,” you groan, pressing your hands against your eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“We need to talk, you can’t keep ignoring me.”

“I can try,” you laugh in disbelief, dropping your hands to finally look at him properly.

He wears white jeans and a matching white, denim jacket - an intricate design of vines of roses sewn into the material - a fine trail of hair leading from his belly button and disappearing beneath his pants, his taut torso on display and antlers on his head. 

“Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“No, we need to talk,” Coriolanus says, a certain urgency in his voice that puts you on alert as he closes in on you. 

“Please, stop… we can’t- we can’t-”

You take a step back with each step that he takes closer to you but his strides are longer than yours and he’s on you before you can even blink; his hands warm and heavy, suffocating against your skin as he grips your arms and lowers his head, trying to force you to look at him. 

“You can’t just throw me away-”

“Get the fuck away from me!” you shove him roughly away. 

Running a hand down your face, you take a ragged breath but it’s expelled quickly, Coriolanus pushing you back just as roughly, cold hard stone pressing into your back. 

“Look, I just gave you what you wanted-!” he cries desperately. “ It was all a show- all of it. I did it all for you- to give you the life you deserve. So, I’m sorry if my performance hurt you.”

You feel the rise and fall of Coriolanus’s chest against your own as he holds you in place with his body, one of his hands finding your jaw and forcing your attention- blue eyes blown almost black as he focuses on nothing else but you; the two of you so close together that you can’t help but notice that despite his slurring words, the stench of alcohol is nowhere to be found on his breath as you take a deep breath, then two- trying desperately to taper the fear now steadily growing inside of you; trapped between him and the Minotaur with nowhere to go.

“It didn't,” you lie. “But I think- I think you need to see somebody. Being a mentor, the games, your time in twelve, it’s all had an impact and I think- I think you need help, okay?”

“No, I don’t. I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you. You’re the only friend I ever had.” 

His words send a chill down your spine.

Only friend.

You think of your brother. You think of Lucy Gray- both whom Coriolanus might’ve once considered friend - their missing presences, a frightening reminder of the fact that Coriolanus Snow still considering you friend was likely the only thing keeping you alive right now. 

“Okay.”

You swallow thickly and try to ignore the tension in your jaw as you muster what little of a smile you could, hoping your lack of response would temper him, put his rambling to an end- but it doesn’t.

“I mean- doesn’t this just prove how much- how much of a good friend I actually am? How much I love you and know you? I know what everyone else says but, none of that matters as long as you know that I’m still the same person. Yeah? You know that, right? That I’m still the same person.”

His eyes bore into yours; warm and searching for your approval, desperate and pathetic. It gives you confidence, makes you feel brave enough to say what you really think.

With his face so close to yours, you watch his blue eyes dart back and forth between your own eyes and lips as he awaits your confirmation that everything will be alright- but it won't. You didn't know Coriolanus, you never did and you never want to.

“I thought I knew you, but, I don't. I don’t know what you are,” you whisper, voice steady. “But, I do know this, you make my fucking blood run cold.”

Coriolanus reels back, your words a hard slap in his face as he shoves you back slightly to remove himself from you. 

He sniffles quietly, eyes wet with unshed tears before, he shoves a bottle you didn’t know he had into your chest and stumbles out of sight, the sound of vomiting following soon after. 

“Coryo-” you call his name quietly. “Are you okay?”

You don’t know why you ask but, you do- perhaps it’s the  small part of you that still cares-

“Fuck you.”

-you swallow it down with a drink from the bottle and tell him, “I think we should go to bed, tomorrow is a new day.”

You jolt as he stumbles into you from behind, pivoting to face you again as he snatches the bottle from your grip.

“I don’t care what you think anymore,” he laughs, raising the bottle toward you in toast. “I’m done with you.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air as he turns his back on you, his figure disappearing back into the maze; the last thing you hear being a faint, “goodbye, sweetheart.”

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

[slipperzipper]

Rescue (Heimdall x Reader)

| Pairing: Heimdall x Reader

| angst turned to comfort/fluff? Reader saving Heimdall from his canon ending, established relationship, Could be seen as romantic or platonic, Let me know if I need to add other things to this as well!

| wrds: 4.1k!

| Disclaimer!: Descriptions of Injuries and Blood (burns, missing limbs, etc), minor Grammar and Spelling mistakes so apologies, Kind of weird start

You wouldn’t have expected to be here, but yet here you were. 

Kratos and Freya venturing to Vanaheim to retrieve her brother was the goal, as long as stopping Heimdall from potentially killing Atreus. Gjallarhorn was the only thing needed from the Aesir. You thought you could come and help in case anything else had gone wrong.

 

But when Kratos turned back from his promise and started strangling the weakened god, you followed them just in time to hear Mimir shout out pleas for the god killer to stop and think. Fortunately you barrelled straight into Kratos, sending him tumbling before turning around and traversing to the side where his arm was missing.

You fell on your knees. Wrapping an arm behind his shoulders, forcing him to sit up, while you grabbed his free hand and grasped it as a sense of comfort in his near death state. His blood started to stain your clothing but that did not bother you right now, right now the only concern you had was Heimdall. 

You didn’t fail to notice how Heimdall’s left hand came to his throat, as if to feel how bruised and put a barrier between him and anyone else that might try to strangle him. His harsh breathing could be heard through short wheezes and gasps. 

You could see Kratos grabbing Mimir’s head before standing tall. You heard Mimir quip about how if you weren’t here it would’ve been a lot worse, you couldn’t help but agree.

You rip a spare sheet of cloth off of your own outfit, using it to clear the blood of the golden god’s face, now his eyes didn’t seem as pink as they were. His face wasn’t perfectly cleaned but it would have to do. 

“Do you plan to come with us to retrieve Freyr and his camp?” Kratos’ voice rumbled out from his chest. 

“Do you mind if we do?” You reply with a much quieter tone, only for him to ‘Hm’ out before he stepped away. Only to wait for you when he finished busting a wall of various spears and long logs of wood. 

You redirected your attention to Heimdall, he was staring up at you. “Are.. are you really going to make.. me go with you?” His voice was slowly gaining back its usual tone and sound, but not as quickly as you liked. 

“We’re going to make things better. Better for the both of us, and if we don’t start now..” You trailed off, trying to think of the right thing to say but everything you thought would result in him being less than pleased with you, but you had to do the right thing.

“Heimdall, your father has made everything miserable for everyone. He makes you miserable. The sooner you realize that, the quicker we can make our lives better. We can make Asgard better” Brushing a strand of hair from his face, you looked at all his features.

His eyes were definitely the first thing people would notice about him, if not his intricately done hair, and how messy it was from normal. His hand was gripped towards yours like it was his lifeline and you couldn’t help but feel how textured his hands were. Not as rough as a warrior’s usually was around the nine realms but detailed enough to know the difference.

You soon tore a strip of fabric off yourself and wrapped his stub, to prevent any more blood loss. It wouldn’t do much but for now it’s all you could do. All he did was stare, stare at you with beautiful magenta eyes. After ‘fixing’ up his arm, you could only stare back. 

Heimdall was slow to respond but he eventually replied in a way you didn’t expect. 

“You should’ve let me die.”

It took you moments until Kratos grunted again to let you know it was time to go. You sighed before getting and pulling Heimdall up with you. 

He stumbled when he stood up but with little stability in his legs, he decided to tough it out. You wanted to argue that it wouldn’t do him any good, but he only insisted. 

You held his shoulders with an arm as the two of you ventured forward, only being a few short feet behind. The natural flora and forestry did not help distract from both Heimdall’s injuries and the burning building that only burned brighter the more time passed. 

Once you found Kratos standing near a ledge, you parted from Heimdall for a short moment to see what the god of war saw. You saw Atreus, the sweet young boy you’ve grown to know through various interactions, letting Hildisvini lead the way as Freya helped Freyr escape.

It reminded you of Heimdall’s condition, but you couldn’t help when Atreus waved at you, you waved back. 

“Hey, a little help?” The young god proclaimed before following after the three more experienced warriors alongside him. “At least the rescues going well” Mimir’s accent was heard, following that up was Kratos’s grunt.

You looked back to Heimdall and fortunately he was still standing and he was right behind you. Grabbing his shoulders again as you followed Kratos more under flora and alternate paths that ultimately lead to the same place. You heard the voices of the rescue team explain how Freyr was hurt in the wreckage, you heard Heimdall wheeze a little bit at it. The two of you continued to venture

You noticed how much strength he was losing by the second. His steps were getting slower and slower and you knew if he were to continue like this then he wouldn’t get anywhere. 

“Heimdall, you and I know you can’t continue like this.” You speak out, stopping Heimdall in his tracks by walking in front of him and planting your hands on his shoulders. Making him look at you. 

“I can continue- now let me.” The golden god spoke before trying to step to the side of you. You didn’t let that happen, instead you forced him to piggyback on you. Getting comfortable while grumbling quietly, Heimdall sat his chin on your head and locked his arm around your neck for security. 

You started walking with the newfound weight on your back. Venturing further, You heard Heimdall small moans of hurt every few times you stepped. Eventually you heard the god of war shout ‘TO ME! FOLLOW!’ and the constant quips of the Vanir God or “Sizzles” as Heimdall liked to call him.

You immediately picked up your pace and started running towards them. You demanded that Heimdall hang tight as you started to move your legs faster and quicker to try and reach them. You can hear the sounds of the wild Gulons chasing after them, You were only a few feet above them, you could easily hop off the terrain but the wild dogs were in the way. 

You noticed that Kratos was swinging his axe with one hand and holding Freyr with the other. Once Kratos slashed the last Gulon you’ll hop down. 

“Oh, hey up there!” Atreus called out your name, effectively letting everyone know that you were ,in fact, here and carrying the injured Aesir god on your back. 

“What are you doing with Heimdall?” Freya shouted as she shot an Einherjar in between its eyes, effectively putting down the reanimated corpse. You explained that Kratos spared him and that he was coming back with them. Only to hear a groan from Freyr.

The wild dogs were eventually cleared out of the way and you jumped off the ledge, almost breaking your ankles in the process but that would be a problem for later. You joined the group and were right behind Kratos.

“Well looky here! The famous Heimdall on the back of a ‘commoner’, who would’ve thought?” Freyr jokes after he glanced up at both you and the mentioned god.

“I would not be talking if I were you, sizzles”

“You just won't shut up about that, huh? Bring it up one more time, I swear I'll-"

“You'll what? Last time I checked you're just as injured as me, so what are you realistically going to do?” Heimdall had let out a little bark of laughter.

“Can you two quit talking?” Freya asked, but it was more of a demand than anything else. You couldn’t help but agree. Atreus then pointed out the Archer Towers in which the boy’s father quickly disposed of them. Heimdall did a small eye roll at how quickly the action was taken.

Atreus eventually ran ahead of his father to take out the further Einherjar. 

“Hi! I’m Atreus, are you okay?” As the two weaved in between each other, Frey responded with a ‘Hi! No!’ 

“Hi Heimdall!” Atreus greeted as he struck a couple of Odin’s army with arrows. Heimdall couldn’t help but mutter under his breath and reply with a dry ‘Hello’ after you weakly elbowed him.  

“How much farther do we have?” You shouted before readjusting your hold on Heimdall’s legs, soon stomping on the head of an Einherjar and heard a sickening crunch. You heard Heimdall give a curt pat as a small ‘good’ 

“That’s what I’m asking!” Freyr quipped with a small laugh. You saw Kratos slam his body and crushed a wild Gulon into a tree and effectively murdered it. The blood stained the tree but there was no time to look further at it as you saw Hildisvini ahead.

Freya as her hawk form came flying by as vines wrapped around the surrounding trees. The dark elf known as Beyla came zipping past you and Kratos, her husband was nowhere to be found. 

“Watch your right!” Heimdall yelled in your ear as he directed his body mass to the left. He was trying to help you redirect yourself out of harm's way. You merely dodged the incoming tree thanks to the partner on your back. 

“Just a bit farther!” Freyr gleefully announced with a raised fist. He seemed the only one to be happy right now.

“Finally, we’re almost there.” Heimdall spoke only to you since you were the only one to hear him. You couldn’t help but agree with him. 

“Hang on just a little longer-” You say but unfortunately luck was not on your side. The extra trees Freya managed to knock down blocked your way, the first tree that slammed down in front of you was twice your size with just the width alone.

“Father!” Atreus then called out your name, catching the attention of the aforementioned god. Panic started to bubble up, your eyes frantically searching for another possible exit. The only way out seemed to run through the wild woods. 

“Go on without me! I’ll find another way!” You informed them with a raspy voice. The air pumping through your lungs made your throat dry, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting out of this damn place alive. 

You turned your body so quickly you almost gave yourself whiplash. Sprinting through the trees as angry Einherjar follow so closely, their loud yells of speech and the arrows whipping past you and hitting into trees

The trees were blending together, the wildlife seemed the same. The once (somewhat) familiar area was now unknown as you ran in an unpredictable pattern. Your feet crushed anything that dared to be under it. Whether it be snapped twigs, tiny animals that you failed to avoid, or failed arrows that tried to impale you. 

One of the arrows managed to scathe your leg. Causing a gash to start bleeding as soon as it made contact with your skin. Another arrow made a nice slice into your other leg as well, nearly giving them matching marks. Now your legs were burning even worse from all the running and now the incoming scars. 

“Keep going! There’s a river up ahead!” Heimdall ordered in your ear. His legs wrapped tighter around your waist while you readjusted your grip on his legs. Getting him up higher so that your legs had more room to move. 

As you tried to hurry yourself forward like what Heimdall instructed, you felt a blast of Bifrost explode near your feet. You panicked and quickly swerved, fumbling your feet before you corrected yourself. Only to be shot at again and again. This time it was at your back and arm. 

You cursed to yourself while you tried to move unpredictably. The Bifrost blasts that had missed and hit the surrounding environment were actually proved in your favor when they slowed down the Einherjar with fallen trees and plants uprooting and causing a tripping hazard. 

At the end of the tree line you saw it, the river. You would have to jump the rushing, turgid currents and then you have to continue running until you found a safe haven or somewhere the undead army couldn’t get you and Heimdall.

“Watch out-!”

The previous plan was thrown out when at the river’s bank, your leg was suddenly in the blast of Bifrost, causing it to shake in an untrained way and make you fall forward. Falling into the water and not too long after you and Heimdall were trying to swim, Your arms climbed upward in the water before breaking through it and gasping for sweet, sweet air.

You soon found Heimdall gasping like you. Although with less buoyancy due to a missing body part. You managed to grab hold of him as the rushing river took you down faster than you realized.

What made the situation worse, was that there was a dip in the  water. It was a damn waterfall. As soon as you felt your body slip down you started to scream, your grip tightening on Heimdall as you fell to your inevitable death. 

__________________________

The first thing you felt was sand. 

Sand? 

You flexed your fingers along the sand, soon pushing your head up to see that you had washed up on a shore. The river was just at the edge of your feet, and your clothes were soaked beyond drying soon. You also happened to notice that the leg closest to the bifrost blast that caused this predicament was almost entirely exposed and very much damaged, you internally groaned at having to deal with this.

You picked yourself up with a slight wobble in your legs, your legs felt like bloody, poorly, bundled twigs as you took your first steps. You felt alarmed as Heimdall was nowhere to be seen. You started calling out his name before deciding to look around.

Based on the setting, you were still in Vanaheim and luckily weren’t kidnapped and/or murdered by the Einherjar. You were just fortunate that you didn’t drown in the initial waters. As you ventured, you soon heard a groan. 

You soon hustled to see who it was, avoiding some of the random items that float onto shore. Weapons, shields, parts of barrels, and body parts. Carefully avoiding the dismembered parts and debris, you managed to get to your person.

Heimdall face down into the sand just like you were and a small blood pool under his ‘arm’. Hustling over to him you help him up. 

“Do you happen to know where we are?” Heimdall asked with a cough, previously covering his mouth. 

“I have no clue, I was hoping you had an idea.” You admit. You slipped your hand around his and gripped. You felt a grip back, and it gave you a little smile on your face.

“But first, I think we need to stop your bleeding.” You mentioned, you can see a small scowl on Heimdall’s face before continuing to follow you. 

“I can heal it with Bifrost. Don’t insist on collecting miniscule plants to help me.” 

“Then how come it hasn’t stopped bleeding yet?” You ask curiously, you didn’t want to sound sarcastic but some of that unwanted tone slipped out. 

“Because it requires my full attention and concentration.” You released an audible ‘oh’ at the very simple explanation, Heimdall only rolled his eyes in what you hoped was a playful way. 

“How come your bleeding hasn’t?” Heimdall sarcastically countered. You had almost forgotten about it, if it weren’t for the pain every time you stepped. 

“I don’t have any bifrost powers like you do, nor do I have anything on hand to heal myself.” Heimdall was uncharacteristically quiet after that.

You sighed before trying to think of something. How were you possibly going to reach Freyr’s camp? 

It was at least multiple days of walking, and that was without break. Maybe there was a sign of Freyr’s camp somewhere? Some old structures to help you have an idea of where you were. 

Freyr’s camp was in the direction the sun set. The sun was already setting and traveling at night was not the best idea. So the best idea was to set up your own, albeit small, camp. First thing you did was gather stones, placing them in a circular pattern. 

You had set the stones on a dry, grassy patch just shy of the beach. It would be better instead of sitting on the grainy sand. 

Then you ventured towards the nearby woods, Heimdall didn’t seem to mind as he observed more of his surroundings, copying what you did previously. 

The woods were packed. Thick trees every couple feet apart from each other, the wild flora captivating your eyes while you collected specific plants and organisms for your injuries and small pieces of wood for a fire. Although one flower caught your eye. 

A bright purple one with glowing spores. It was much like the bright red ones you have seen exploring Vanaheim but this was so clearly different. It called out to you. You figured it could be a decent gift for Heimdall to maybe brighten his mood. 

Pulling your knife out, you quickly snipped the flower’s stem. You had dropped the bundle of wood in your arms just for it, and having no other place to put it, you slid it comfortably behind your ear before returning to the camp. 

“There you are, I was starting to worry you got eaten by something.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the assumption, it was possibly one of the more funnier things Heimdall has said to you. 

“I wouldn’t die that easily, or at least I hope so.” Your hands worked in order to prepare the fire. You searched yourself for anything to make starting a fire easier, but with no luck, you decided to start hand drilling.

It took a while and your hands were sore but there was fire going and you and Heimdall were warm. 

“What is that behind your ear?” Heimdall’s voice curiously asked. The question reminded you of the original intent. Sitting somewhat next to each other, you sat while you nervously prepared yourself.

“Oh!” You removed the flower before gesturing for him to take it. “It’s for you, it reminded me of you anyway so I thought-” You stammered your way through the conversation, flirting with the infamous golden god was extremely harder than you thought. 

Instead of flat out rejecting you like you kind of expected, he gently took it from you. He quietly observed the pretty petals you gazed upon earlier. The pistil still glowed brightly as it did before. You were still glad the flower looked as pretty as it did earlier. 

Heimdall slowly rolled the stem in between his fingers, looking at the pretty plant plainly with what seemed to be little care. 

“So you thought to give me a mutated flower?” He inquired, and your heart had immediately dropped. Of course he wouldn’t like the flower, of course he’d think it was a weak attempt to flirt with him. Of course-

“It’s a beautiful gift, thank you.” His tone was tender and it made your tender heart stutter. Soon silence comfortably blanketed over the two of you. The environment provides a comfortable background echo throughout the spot from the crackling fire to the sound of calm waters. 

You couldn’t help but stare at Heimdall’s once-arm, (the god had his eyes closed so he could probably still read your thoughts but you hadn’t remembered that) the mostly reddened stump with only the top of his tricep and upwards remaining. 

You wanted to so desperately help the healing process. You also noticed the long cut on his cheek, he was just a mess in general. 

His hair was also not in his preferred style, some strands coming loose while some braids remained surprisingly. His hair was still beautiful, and the flower behind his ear accentuated that fact. You can’t just linger around while Heimdall had to slowly recover. It didn’t feel right. 

“Heimdall, please, let me help you.”

Heimdall had broken his concentration to look at you, he was silent until he shook his head. “I told you that you do not need to help, I can heal it on my own-”

“But wouldn’t it heal faster if I added a remedy or two in it?” Quickly interrupting the god, Heimdall sighed

“It would but it wouldn’t be necessary, and no, just because you have the means doesn’t mean you can” 

“Heimdall, let me help please, it's only fair after you saved me from getting crushed and blown up by Bifrost!” 

Heimdall could only rub his eyes with his hand before replying a meager ‘Fine’, You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself to find something that could resemble a bowl. It didn’t take long before you found something.

An Einherjar helmet, the eye holes were fortunately before the helmet formed instead of just being holes in the strong metal. You washed it in the shore’s bank thoroughly before returning to Heimdall. 

Sitting cross-legged, you start mixing flora such as Lamb’s Cress and Red root. Mixing it with two of your fingers so that you could carefully apply it, you wouldn’t want to miss a spot. So the helmet glowed on the inside, a bright yellow one to be exact.

“I’m going to lift your sleeve, you ready?” With a quick nod, you lifted his posh sleeve and quickly got to work. Slathering the medicine on the trauma, you could hear Heimdall hissing and groaning and trying not to move in place, you definitely knew how awful it was. 

It was over before both of you knew it. You slipped his sleeve back down and set the Einherjar helmet down, “Now you can concentrate on using Bifrost.” You smile before moving yourself further so you could have room.

Heimdall only rolled his eyes and reciprocated the smile. 

You soon pulled your pant legs high up to tend to your wounds. Heimdall was quietly watching as you analyzed your injuries. 

The first thing you noticed was the Bifrost burn on your mid calf and downwards. The flesh there was stingy and hurt to touch or even look at. It spanned out in sharp points and then round points, it still bled every time you flexed your leg as well. The cuts you had gotten from the arrows were deep, they tore the skin there with ease.

Maybe you could borrow some of the Aesir arrows sometime, they were mighty harmful. The gashes were still relatively okay, you wouldn’t be getting an infection anytime soon. 

You released an annoyed sigh as you prepared the ingredients to help mend the burn. Adding more of Lamb’s Cress and Red root to the concoction. “I could hold the helmet for you if it would make this,” He nonchalantly gestured to your burn ”easier.”

 

You thanked him by handing him said helmet. The golden god merely held it as you worked your ‘magic’. Gracefully dumping some of the product on your wounds, wanting to jump away from it while you applied it with either a hiss or curse. 

As soon as you were done with the helmet, you threw it far. Or at least as far as you could from your position. Finally, you could rest without worrying about anything right now. Worrying was for tomorrow. Laying down on your back you started to relax.

The sun had set and night could be fully seen. The stars above twinkled like they never have before, maybe you should come to Vanaheim more often. The fire crackled every few seconds just to add onto the effect and you loved it, despite the situation you could still see the beauty in it.  

The sound of shuffling and you found that a new weight was on your right. The watchman of the Aesir had lain beside you. You could feel his fingers ghosting yours as if he wanted to hold your hand. You decided to take the initiative and interlock fingers with him.

“Any particular reason why you decided to lay with me?” You ask, tilting your head to look at Heimdall. The Aesir man only turned to you, stared you in the eyes, then turned his back to staring upwards.

 

“I like your company, that is all.” 

The response made your heart grow warmer, so you weren’t all too bad in his eyes. (Ignoring the fact you saved his life of course) You whispered a goodnight to him before shutting your eyes, you hadn’t realized how heavy they felt until you’ve closed.

The last thing you remember was Heimdall gently squeezing your hand before you drifted asleep. 

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

What do you think Katniss and Peeta’s unexpected turn ons are? Like a small innocent thing about the other that drives them wild just because they really love them so much? And makes the other one go “really? 😉”

This was way too much fun to answer and got out of hand. I could probably think up a thousand more of these if I had the time.

<3 kdnfb

Canonically, Peeta cannot lie to Katniss and look her in the eyes. When she figures out that he still can’t post-mj, she uses it to her advantage. She can always tell when he’s trying to fib his way out of accidentally revealing an innocuous secret or a surprise he’s planning, like what he’s getting her for her birthday. And it drives her a little insane. Like “either look me in the eyes when you try to lie to me or take me to bed right now, since you won’t give me my present right now.”

Katniss is a consummate caretaker, to an almost annoying degree. Fortunately for her, she husbanded someone with a caretaker kink. That boy was dying of blood poisoning, raging with fever in a deathmatch arena, and he was still laying down the lines and making her laugh. Every time she fusses over him or bosses him around when he’s got a minor injury or just a little sniffling cold, that man is in full on flirt mode and dragging her into bed with him. “I’ve got a surefire way you can make me feel better.” “If we have sex, will you stop whining and get up so I can wash the sheets afterwards?” she sighs in exasperation as she’s stripping off her clothes and crawling under the covers with him.

Meanwhile, Katniss goes feral whenever Peeta gets a little protective of her. Some whackadoo from the Capitol comes out to Twelve to check on the progress of the new medicine factory and brings a limousine with him on the train, but the roads in Twelve are not made for cars like that and the idiot almost runs people over. So of course, Peeta wraps his arm around his wife and bodily lifts her out of the path. One second she’s walking through town, reciting her shopping list, the next she’s pressed up against a storefront with Peeta’s body caging her in and some idiot driver is careening past, honking his horn. And if you think Katniss doesn’t almost climb him right there and he has to toss her over his shoulder to drag her home before she tears his clothes off, I cannot help you.

Both of them become unhinged morons whenever the other one is a complete mess. 

By this I mean Katniss comes in from tending the garden, her shirt all sweaty and clinging to her. Her hair’s a mess and she’s got a little sunburn on her nose and cheeks and Peeta’s already naked, demanding she take him on the spot. 

Similar response when she comes home a little disheveled from a hunt. “At least let me put the meat in the freezer first, Peeta.” Nope. She gets railed up against said freezer and can’t keep a straight face when they have to invite Haymitch over to eat all this meat because they had to cook it immediately after or it would’ve gone bad.

Peeta starts coming home from the bakery deliberately a little messy. Flour in his hair, sugar stuck to his neck. A random smear of frosting on his arm. Why? Because Katniss starts squirming the instant she sees him and honestly, he really likes it when she mounts him in the hallway because she couldn’t make it the five extra feet to the bedroom.

He’s lost count of how many times they’ve had sex because he didn’t get all the paint washed off his hands before a meal or before bed. And he almost never notices the smear of paint or pencil dust that winds up on his left temple because he brushed back his hair at some point while he was painting/drawing and why is that so hot? She has no clue, all she knows is that she wants to bathe in him. Usually, she manages to wait a little while for that one, mainly because she wants to see what he was painting before she jumps him. What he was painting often dictates the flavor of their sex.

He doesn’t paint the Games as much, after the first time she tells him “Real,” but when he does, the sex is tender and usually happens in the art studio itself, on a paint splattered sofa or on the floor, rolling around on his floor tarps so that both of them are smeared with paint afterwards.

If he’s painting her or other people that they love, they’ll make it up to the bedroom before clothes start flying, laughing and teasing each other the entire way. Katniss will be laughing so hard she snorts while she’s moaning and coming at the same time. Peeta lives to make her snort laughing while she’s coming, btw. Huge turn on, switch flipped to feral mode as soon as she's done coming, and Katniss feels like she won’t be able to walk straight for a day after he finishes inside her.

He uses her as a canvas? Well eventually he's gonna wind up covered in paint too. They go until the paint starts to dry and by then, they're sleepy and content and can barely move anymore.

Painting landscapes and nature scenes? Absolutely feral pig sex where the neighbors worry about them and ask each other if they should… knock? Make sure everyone is still alive in there? Katniss really can’t walk straight for a day after that, but she’s not complaining. Instead she’s demanding her husband carry her around, because he did that to her, after all.

Sadly for Katniss, Peeta carrying her around is something she absolutely loves for the tenderness and silliness of it, but also at times it turns her into a raving madwoman "take me to bed and throw me on it then fuck me this instant before I pull out all my hair, husband!"

And ho buddy, when the two of them come home all sweaty and gross from rebuilding the district? Round one on the floor in the entryway. Round two with skin squealing on shower walls and borderline screaming moans echoing off the bathroom walls. Hair pulling, biting, clawing sex. Let me inside your skin, ten minutes later we’re still actively sweating well damn it that shower was fucking pointless in terms of getting clean sex.

Katniss eats her pie backwards, crust first and Peeta doesn’t know why, but for some reason, he thinks it’s adorable and needs to have her instantly. Haymitch wonders why he no longer gets pie on nights when he eats dinner with them. There’s always dessert… but no pie. So Peeta starts baking Haymitch his own pies and dropping them off, because he’s not giving up his absolute need to toss Katniss on the table and eat her out like he’s a dying man whenever she eats her pie like that.

Peeta looks like he’s solving all of the world’s problems when he’s brushing his teeth. So serious. Sometimes, Katniss will throw small objects at his prosthetic until he notices and giggles when he does, looking at her like she’s an annoying brat. Sometimes, she sneaks up behind him and makes faces at him over his shoulder until he laughs and spits out the toothpaste. Other times, her hands on him are incredibly naughty and the next thing he knows, he looks like a rabid animal in the mirror while he’s bent over the sink, holding on for dear life with her hands on his dick, unraveling him one caress and stroke at a time. But whatever she does, it ends with their sheets an absolute wreck and both of them naked and sweaty and staring at the ceiling going “Wow. So that… happened…”

Katniss bites her nails when she’s nervous and Peeta fixes it by snatching her hand and kissing her from her fingertips up her arms to her neck… where he blows a raspberry until she’s laughing. Do smutty things happen after that? Depends on the setting.

Peeta still flirts with her. Like blatantly, let's see how red I can get my wife’s face flirting with her over the bakery counter or in the town square, in front of literally everyone’s salad. And Katniss just melts like a loon but is secretly plotting how to get him naked asap. She’s not against throwing him against the nearest tree if only there weren’t so many people in the district. Oh but she’s absolutely savaged him against several trees in the woods because he was flirting.

Peeta whistles when he’s working in the bakery. Katniss thinks it’s adorable and sexy as hell. She sings in the shower and Peeta never misses the show, sitting on the toilet or just standing against the sink just to hear her sing. It’s the only time he manages to move silently.

Katniss cannot keep her hands out of Peeta’s hair. Girl is obsessed. And Peeta finds it at turns, adorable, adorably annoying, a mild turn on, or holy hell hot. Like “pull my hair again when I make you come” hot. Conversely, she absolutely loves it when Peeta brushes and braids her hair for her. He’s trying to have a tender, loving moment, and she’s often “are you done yet because as soon as that hair tie is on, i’m gonna be all over you.”

Both of them absolutely love it when the other one laughs. It’s not always a turn on, per se, but when it is… lord have mercy they broke a whole ass bed one time because Peeta laughed at something Katniss said.

Peeta wearing loose, soft pajama pants or the like. Katniss is all hot and bothered and “i’m not that big you can definitely fit me in there with you…” Peeta looks at her like she’s lost it, but they actually do try it once or twice. Numerous pairs of pants have been ripped and sewn back together in this pursuit, and not because she couldn’t fit in there with him.

He’s long since accepted that if they’re dressing up for some occasion, he has to get dressed two hours early. To give Katniss enough time to rip it all off and have her way with him and still have time for them to shower and get dressed again so they’re not late.

Anytime Katniss wears one of his shirts, sweaters, etc, he’s pretty sure he’s going to die unless he gets his mouth or hands on her and then his cock inside her because half the time, she’s not wearing a bra or pants with them, just panties, and he just… has to have her. NOW. While said garment is still on her body. Especially a particular red sweater he was wearing the day they had sex the first time and she wore it the morning after.

She absolutely has a sunset orange nightie that nearly gets removed (or not removed) every time she wears it, but removed or not… either way, Katniss can’t feel her toes after Peeta makes her come as many times as he can whenever she wears it. 

[rubyuji]

Forever (Yoon Jeonghan) ♛ ⚜ ࿐ ࿔ ⁺₊

“What are you so worried about my lady? I feel these suitors aren’t very fit for you this season. Dare I say, and honestly, I might be the only man who would be worthy of your affections.”

Genre: Romance, BSF2L, Slight Angst

AU: Bridgerton/Regency!au

Pairing: Jeonghan x Afab!reader

Warnings: None

Synopsis: You yearned for him every moment he stepped into your drawing room, but did you stand a chance against a princess despite your status as the Diamond of the Season?

Note: This was so short and underwhelming but I liked it and didn’t want to develop a whole backstory for this (yet). I hope you guys like this update (since I haven’t in like nearly a month help). As always, don’t forget to like + reblog as a way of supporting me and other writers!

WC: 1.6k

It was that time again wherein the courtship scene in London was in a hustle and bustle. Families flaunting their daughters whom they have raised refinely until womanhood, and fortunately enough for you, you had harbored quite the suitors for your desirable beauty.

You were unmatched after being crowned ‘Diamond of the Season’ by the queen herself, but with the princess’ appearance, were you truly?

From Lord Choi Seungcheol, Earl of Greenhill to Joshua Hong the Duke of York, none of which could compare to who truly owned your heart. Your own best friend and the only heir to Lord Yoon of Burlington, Yoon Jeonghan, or Jeonghan as everyone in his circle calls him.

Jeonghan had grown up alongside you because of your family’s close friendship. You had grown accustomed to seeing his soft smile and warm eyes every summer whenever your family would go to the countryside to spend time with the Yoon family.

Though, you wish to have not known of the princess in town taking such interest in him. Who would’ve known that a member of the royal family would pin after a simple nobleman? Wasn’t she supposed to be focusing on her roster of royals?

“Jeonghan, why are you in my drawing room? The callers will be coming any second and I can’t afford a scan—“ you pause, taking in your best friend’s sly smile.

“What are you so worried about my lady? I feel these suitors aren’t very fit for you this season. Dare I say, and honestly, I might be the only man who would be worthy of your affections.” Jeonghan says softly, a chuckle following his words as he looks at you, his gaze burning hot.

“I bet Lady Whistledown would cause such a stir if this unchaperoned encounter had gotten out into the public, but let me offer you a proposal before your guests start scrambling in,” you freeze up at Jeonghan’s words.

It was unexpected, with only the two of you currently in the drawing room as your maid had gone off with your mother to check on the suitors.

“I know that gifts of plenty are not what you want, I’ve known you for years darling. I could buy out every florist in London or buy you the finest dresses and you still wouldn’t be satisfied with such material things, that’s not who you are. You want a genuine connection do you not?” Jeonghan takes your hand in his softly and brushes his lips over your knuckle, causing your breath to hitch.

“But, I too, understand why you were crowned diamond of the season. I’d give anything if it were to make you happy, just by your beauty alone. You’ve always been so captivating, my dear,” he purred.

Reading you was no problem for Jeonghan, after all, he was one of your dearest friends with whom you grew up. Though he joked around like this often and anyone would think he was serious, you’ve learned to shrug it off as time passed.

Yet, he never implied if he was joking or not, the thought simply went over your head as this was passed off light banter between you both.

Also as much as you did wish and hope to see your best friend as a possible suitor, you felt like an idiot when someone like the princess was after his affections.

You would never compare to someone of her likeliness or grace, you were only the diamond of the season who grew up in a simple noble household.

“Jeonghan, you never fail to amuse me, my dearest best friend. You aren’t even a suitor nor caller, yet you’re always in my drawing room to watch over me beforehand,” you chuckle, but he only shakes his head with a smirk gracing his features. One you had grown very fond of over the years.

“My lady, these suitors are chasing after you, but none could compare to me when I don’t need to chase…” Jeonghan trails off, wrapping an arm around your waist. Your face heats up and you tear your gaze away from the man in front of you.

“All I need is a few minutes with you, alone, in this very drawing room,” he finishes, face so close to yours that you could only hold your breath and ignore the loud beating of your heart.

Jeonghan then unravels his arm from around your waist and excuses himself whilst making his way out of the drawing room, winking as he leaves you a flustered mess.

That night, at his own mother’s ball, you started to make haste to distract yourself from your cunning and charming best friend. You felt as though Jeonghan was hardly serious, but that moment in the drawing room continued to play in your head in an endless loop.

“Lady Jeon, it’s a pleasure seeing you tonight,” Taehyung, the son of Lord Kim, approached you as you had wrapped up your conversation with another suitor. He was a polite young man, one of the first callers as well to grace his presence. He was also a close friend of Jeonghan’s.

“Pleasure is all mine my Lord,” you say politely, a curt smile etched on your face as you scan the room for Jeonghan.

“Please, call me Taehyung, my lady,” he replies smoothly. As Taehyung continued to converse with you (or chat your ear off rather), more suitors made their way in your direction. This is when your best friend finally makes his presence known to them.

“Y/n, good evening. You look very lovely tonight,” Jeonghan says, taking your hand and placing a kiss on it.

All the suitors disperse one by one upon his arrival, intimidated by his looming aura. Any of the Lords knew not to mess with Jeonghan due to his reputation of being silent but quite deadly.

“Well, you certainly do have quite the charisma, my lord. You seem to have scared away all my suitors,” you scoff jokingly and take in his appearance.

Jeonghan looked ravishing tonight and seeing all the other noblewomen’s eyes on him, you weren’t the only one who thought so either.

Jeonghan continues to keep your hand in his as he leads you towards the dance floor. “May I have this dance, my lady?” He asks with a smirk, and you nod, flustered at his calling.

You were relieved that you had been smart enough to keep your last dance with him on your dance card, hence why you had been actively avoiding any man who had been asking to dance the whole night.

Though Jeonghan was way past using formalities anymore when it came to you, with you being the same, you couldn’t help but buzz at the way the words simply slipped off his tongue whenever he called you that. It was only in the lighthearted banter that you both ever used formalities teasingly.

Dancing with Jonghan felt somewhat of a dream that night, but you were soon brought back to reality, and your senses, after seeing the princess walk in your direction.

She was so beautiful, her hair was done up in neat curls as she donned a baby blue colored dress. Her gaze was set on Jeonghan and you instantly felt yourself panic.

“Please excuse me, my lord,” you say hurriedly, rushing towards your mother in a frenzy. ‘I have to get home,’ you thought.

Jeonghan was confused at your sudden outburst but quickly realized once the princess had tapped his shoulder from behind.

“Jeonghan, I would like to—“ he interrupted the princess, and he was thankful that nobody else had heard him.

Otherwise, he’d rather die than have his name on another Lady Whistledown article for causing such a scandal. It was ungentlemanly and rude towards the princess.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I cannot marry you like you had hoped. My heart belongs to another,” Jeonghan tells her and runs off to find you in his distress. He could deal with the princess later, but right now, you were the most important thing on his mind.

You avoided Jeonghan the rest of the night, going home early and wallowing in your insecure thoughts, but you knew Jeonghan wouldn’t let you get away so easily. That’s why you weren’t surprised to see him in your drawing room once again the next day.

“Y/n, please tell me what is wrong,” he says, worry lacing his tone. You raise a brow and scoff before looking him in the eyes.

“Jeonghan, there is simply nothing wrong I assure you. After all, you are marrying the princess, aren’t you?—“ He interrupts you as he stands abruptly.

“Y/n, listen to me. I am not going to marry her, I have already confessed to her last night that my heart belongs to another,” Jeonghan says flatly as his brows knit. Your jaw drops at his revelation.

Why wouldn’t he? It was a free pass to a better life after all, and Jeonghan was already the perfect partner for the princess. But then you wondered, who does his heart belong to now? You surely had no chance then as you feel your heart start to crack.

He seems to have read your mind because Jeonghan pulls you in by the waist again and kisses you with the feeling of longing. You reciprocate, kissing him back with just as much fevior.

“My lady, if you were always so worried, you could’ve simply just told me.” Jeonghan smiles after pulling away. You avoid his eyes and look at the floor, he always makes you flustered without even trying.

“It’s always and forever will be you Y/n. My heart yearns for you and only you, now let me court you as I show you how much I care for you. Give me this chance to prove to you how much I love you. I won’t let anything get in between us, just let me show you how much I burn for you,” once the words slipped out of his mouth, you knew that no suitor in the world could ever, compare to him.

© rubyuji 2024’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[notlunaaa]

Feel Better Method

I got a request for a Lee!Angel Ler!Charlie + (MiniLer!FatNuggets) so I hope you enjoy! 💞

Lee!Angel Dust

Ler!Charlie(small FatNuggets)

—————————————————————————

‘Ughh.’ Angel groaned as he walked into the hotel, slamming the door behind him. Another shit day at work. Shittier than usual. He dragged his body over to the bar, the only thing he wanted right now was to completely lose himself in alcohol and not remember anything that happened today. However to his suprise, when he walked up to the bar the bartender was no where to be seen.

‘Husk?’ He yelled out but no response came back. Angel shrugged. It was late so it was probable that Husk had already packed up and gone to bed for the night. However he was a little suprised as usually the barcat waited until he at least came home. ‘Whatever I’ll just make my own drink.’ He thought to himself. He was about to climb over the bar and get himself a bottle when… 

‘ANGEL!’ 

Charlie popped out from under the bar where she had apparently been hiding and waiting for him. Taken by surprise he yelped and stumbled back, tripping over his heels and landing on the floor with a thud. 

‘Agh-! Charlie what the fuck!’ 

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you! 

‘Why in Satan are you hiding underneath the bar? You scared the crap out of me!’ He huffed back.

Charlie rested her elbows on the bar top and held her face in her hands, watching Angel with a small smirk. 

‘Because I know you had a rough day at work today, and that you would come straight here to drink yourself silly.’ 

‘Wow are you a fortune teller or something? Never would’ve guessed.’ Angel retorted sarcastically, already making his way back to grab a bottle.

Charlie pouted and blocked his way. ‘Drinking Alcohol isn’t the solution to your problems! You need a healthy  coping mechanism.

Angel rubbed his temples. After his day with Val he really didn’t want to get into this shit right now. 

‘Why don’t you tell me what happened? You can let out all your feelings to me instead of a bottle.’ She encouraged, looking at him with hopeful eyes. 

‘Look Charlie, I love ya but I really don’t even want to think about what happened today let alone talk about it.’ And it was true, not some excuse to not talk to Charlie as usual. But Charlie kept looking at him longingly and he eventually caved. ‘Hah, Fine I’ll just go to bed and no Alcohol.’ He lifted his arms in defeat and began walking away to his room. 

However as he did, Charlie noticed the ever so slight limp in his walk, and the eyebags that sat under his eyes, her heart sank. She knew today had been a particularly bad day for him.

She rushed up to him and a grabbed one of his hands. ‘Angel wait! If you don’t want to talk about it can I at least try and make you feel better?’ 

Angel huffed but didn’t protest, thinking it was something simple but wouldn’t actually work. So he let Charlie drag him to the sofa and sit him down. Angel Dust ‘s face was one of confusion as he wondered what the demon princess was about to do. Charlie sat next to him and asked him to face his back to her. 

‘This is a method my Dad used on me when I was younger to cheer me up’ Charlie explained. ‘Sometimes I even use this on  Vaggie and it works like a charm.’ She giggled. 

‘Wow so even that old witch can feel happiness?’ Angel teased, which got him a soft slap on the back and a snort from Charlie.

‘Oh shush you. Now to start this method all you gotta do is close your eyes and hold your arms up.’ The porn star looked at her skepticaly but with a nod of confirmation he sighed and did as he was told. 

‘So how does method work? Do you- hnngh!?’ He was sharply cut off by 2 fingers poking his sides. ‘H-Hey! D-Don’t do that!’

‘Hehe, so you are ticklish! Perfect this means my method will work.’ She began kneading her fingers against the spiders sides watching as he squirmed. ‘Noho! Charlie don’t!’ Angel yelped, his arms crashing down to protect his torso. 

‘Sorry, but once this method started you have to see it through.’ There was hint of mischief in her voice and her fingers began exploring to find more spots to toy with. 

‘Hmm, How about here? Are you ticklish here too?’ She asked nonchalantly as she dug into his ribs. 

‘Aha! Gehehet ohohoff! Stahahahap!’ 

‘Ooo you are! Well I guess I should count your ribs and make sure they’re all there right? Don’t want any to go missing.’ 

The spider demon viscously shook his head, giggles spilling from his lips more freely now. ‘Nohohoho! Chaahahrlie ihihihi swear to Sahahaton!’ He tried to squirm away, but Charlie followed wherever he went attacking him with more tickles.’Leheheheheht mehehehehehehe go!’ 

‘One…..two….three.’ She counted each pair of ribs aganosingly slow, making sure to wiggle her fingers into each gap between each rib. Angel let a loud squeal and tried to escape, his thrashing increasing. 

‘ Chahahahahrlie! Ahahahll my rihihihihibs ahahahahre fihihine plehehehehase! Stahahahahap!’ 

‘Angel! With all your squirming I can’t count properly, now I have to start all over again!’ Charlie couldn’t help but smirk as she said this, watching Angel shake his head furiously. 

‘NohoHoho! PleHehease! Nohohohohot Ahahahahain! 

Once more Charlie began dragging her fingertips up Angel’s ribcage, making it so slow Angel could really feel It. The she noticed the higher she went on his rib cage, the more he would squirm and his laugh would get louder. 

‘Does it get worse the higher up your ribs I go?’ She teased. 

‘NahAHAHAha! Ihihih’t doesn’t! NoHOHOhow stahahHAHAp!’ He blatantly lied. 

‘Oh really?~’ The other chirped back, ‘So I guess this shouldn’t bother you.’ As she said this she had reached his top rib and then dug into his armpits. 

‘EHEHEHEHEHEHEK! NOHOHOHOHOHO NAHAHAHAHAHT THEHEHEHERE!’ Angel let out a high pitched squeal and squirmed into the sofa,somehow trying to  get away from his fate.

‘Not there? But you said it doesn’t get worse the higher up your ribs I go?.’ She said with a feign tone of confusion. ‘Angel did you lie to me? How dare you!.’ She pouted and began drawing teasing circles in the others underarm. 

‘AHAHAHAHA! FUHUHUHUCK CHAHAHARLIE! STAHAHAP! I CAHAHAH-.’ Angel was thrown into hysterics when she moved down to his second pair of armpits, his eyes squeezed shut as tears of mirth pooled behind them and a faint blush tinged his face. ‘FAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAH! STAHAHAHA-!’ Loud cackling laughter filled the room as Angel smacked the sofa in efforts to relive the tickly feeing shooting through his body.

Eventually Angel’s laughter went wheezy and then silent, and Charlie knew this was her sign to stop. She brought her fingers to rest and gently rubbed her hands over Angels back. ‘Ahahahaha fuhuhuck…’ 

‘You okay?’ She couldn’t help but giggle a little

Then tiny footsteps could be heard walking down the hallway, and both demons looked up wondering who it could be. Fat Nuggets happily trotted into the room and dashed over to his owner and jumped into his arms. 

‘Hey there Nuggets.’ Angel said whilst petting him. ‘Missed me?’ The pig let out a squeal in agreement and nuzzled into his side. ‘Ah! H-Hey! Nuhuhggs Nohoho nohohohot yohohohou too! Angel didn’t want to hurt him so he didn’t push him off, but instead curled up while giggling, his shoulders shaking. ‘Ehehehehe!’. After a few seconds Nuggets  laid flat on Angel’s lap and fell asleep. Angel sighed, scoping him up and standing from the couch. ‘Well I’m going to bed now. See ya later Charlie.’ 

‘Did it work? Did my method make you feel better?’ She asked, a smile still on her face. Angel just flipped her off and she returned with a giggle. ‘Good Night Angel!’ 

As he walked away to his room, a small genuine smirk appeared on his lips. Ok, Maybe it helped just a little. 

End

Hope you enjoyed!🫧