#one of the first things he says to her is to comment on her gender which to her signals that he might abuse her for it (1 strike)

[porcubus]

My mandated monthly hater post Look away

something i keep noticing with hcing emil sinclair as transfem when looking for or creating fanwork is that she can't just be transfem you can't only say that because his fans will get either mad or really insecure. you can't make a post about transfem hcs without someone saying Well it could go both ways he has schrodingers gender or clarifying that They see her as transmasc but this is cool I guess...you don't have to say that every time brother

[elfcollector]

the thing about alia is that she does not like alistair

[fairy-writes]

Hi!! I saw that you write for Arcane and had a really cute idea for Vander. I don’t really see a lot of fics where you get to see Vander’s reactions to the reader either playing with the kids or comforting them, so I thought a fic centered around that might be cute? (I think also having a bit of slow burn would be sweet, like both Vander and the reader like each other but don’t do anything about it until getting a little push from the kids because they ship).

ONE LITTLE PUSH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Bit of a Slowburn, Fluff, Getting Together, Reader is Smaller than Vander (but who isn’t?), Sibling Bickering

Notes: VANDER MY FAVORITE

(No, but seriously, contrary to popular belief, he’s my 1st favorite over Viktor)

JUST IN TIME (kind of) FOR SEASON TWO, LETS GOOOOO

__________________________________________________________________________

Vander wasn’t quite sure why you stuck around for so long. 

In fact, he wasn’t sure why you stuck around in the first place. 

But… As Vander watches you with the kids. His kids. He begins to understand why. 

You were kind, unyieldingly so. Even as Mylo grew to start picking on Powder, even as they fought, you were kind and patient and offered them the unending gentle love they all so craved. 

The love he couldn’t afford to give them because who could be gentle in the Undercity? Especially in the depths of the Lanes?

You could. 

Vander was in the middle of pouring a drink when Powder tumbled into The Last Drop. She was covered in bruises and dust from something. Or someone. She barely met his gaze as she clambered to her feet and all but sprinted into the back where they all slept. Vander looked through the multitude of customers and spotted you. 

You had obviously seen Powder go bolting, worry twisting your face as you glanced toward the bar and met his stare. You arched an eyebrow, and he shrugged. You rolled your eyes and sighed before smiling in jest and getting up from where you had been tinkering with the jukebox. 

Vander finally manages to get away from his chatty clients and makes his way back into the back room nearly fifteen minutes later. 

Only to pause by the door. 

“—ylo hates me! He does, I swear!” Powder cries, and you hush her gently, dabbing what looks to be some of the antiseptic you have lying around on her cuts and bruises. Disinfectant was hard to come by, especially in the Lanes, but you were seemingly magic in the sense that you always knew who to talk to to get some. It seems you had worked your magic yet again. 

“Did Mylo say that he hates you?” You ask gently, whispering a quiet “sorry” under your breath as she flinched with the sting of the antiseptic. 

Powder pauses, thinking what had to be her earlier conversation over, 

“Well… No…” She mumbles, and you hum, 

“Can I give you my honest opinion?” You ask, and she stills, looking up at you with wide eyes before nodding. 

“Aren’t you always honest with us?” She asks. You chuckle at that. 

“I suppose I am. But I don’t think Mylo hates you. Does he find you a bit annoying? Maybe. But every big brother thinks that about their younger siblings. I know mine did.” You say, and Powder mulls your words over and over and over in her mind. 

She always did overthink things. 

“I didn't know you had a big brother.” She says eventually, and you let out a loud laugh at that. 

“You are a silly girl for focusing on that. But yes, I came from a big family. And guess what? I was the baby of the family. Just. Like. You.” You say, emphasizing your words with a pinch to her side. Powder squeals with laughter and wriggles away to escape your dastardly tickling. 

Vander hangs his head with a huff and a smile before turning to head back to the bar counter. He can hear your conversation continue as Powder escapes your grasp.

“Now, where did you get all these bruises from?”

“Um… Vi taught me parkour from Topside down…”

“Powder! You’re like seven!”

“Seven and a half! And she said I was ready!”

Ever since you began to stick around, you had become something of a parent figure to the four little children Vander had come into care for. 

To Vi and Powder especially. 

So when Mylo burst into The Last Drop with the words of a fistfight on his tongue, you were the first one out the door. 

Vander was close behind. 

Mylo led you and Vander deep into the Undercity. In fact, it was so far into the Undercity that Vander was worried they were getting into some dark territory. 

Like… Really dark territory. 

But soon enough, the sounds of a fight were heard, and soon after, you were deep in the throng of a multi-person fistfight. Everyone paused for a second when they saw you and then stopped altogether when they spotted Vander not far behind. 

You began to pull people off and shoved them out of the way. You did this again and again, ducking under a few stray punches until you managed to unearth Vi. 

She wasn’t looking too hot. 

Her face was bruised and swollen, and the fifteen-year-old spat out a wad of blood as she bared her bloody teeth and prepared to fight again. 

At least until she saw you. 

It was as if the tension had been released from her shoulders. 

She all but slumped into your grasp, and you stumbled back a step with the sudden weight. Vander yanked the last person away from you both and scooped up his adoptive daughter. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and was obviously fighting back tears. 

Mylo was hunched over, hands on his knees, and wheezed from all the sprinting. 

“Vi? Violet, can you hear me?” You said as soon as you all returned to The Last Drop, and Vander set her down on the couch. Powder and Claggor had been found a block away, fighting off more thugs from whoever sent them after the literal children. 

He would've pummeled them to a pulp if Vander hadn’t hung up his gauntlets years before. 

Vi’s head lolled from side to side, and you shone a pocket flashlight into her eyes, watching as her pupils dilated and contracted. You were experienced at this, taking care of people, even more so than he thought. 

Were you a doctor deep in your past? 

As Vander thought about it, he realized he didn’t know practically anything about you. Your past, your likes, dislikes, he knew you were good with machines and medicine and that you came from a big family. But that was it. 

And that hurt his heart. 

You ended up ushering everyone out of the room while you worked on caring for Vi. Vander closed the bar early and was in the middle of putting chairs on tables when you emerged. Powder, Mylo, and Claggor dropped what they were doing. They scampered to your side, a chorus of “How’s Vi?” erupting from the kids. You offered them a tired smile and patted their heads. 

“She’ll be okay. She’s resting right now. You can go in and see her if you’re quiet.”

And then it was the two of you. 

Vander set the final chair on top of the table and meandered his way over where you were sitting at the bar, head in your hands. 

You looked tired. 

“Is she really okay?” He asked, and you grunted, rubbing at your temples. 

“She has a broken nose, fractured left arm, some bruised ribs, and a concussion. Which, all things considered, she’s very lucky. It could’ve been a lot worse.” You say, and he sighs, 

“Did she say why she got into the fight?” He replied, and you shrug, 

“She was protecting Powder. Then, more people started showing up until it was an all-out brawl. That’s when we stepped in.” You say, and his shoulders sag. 

Vi was going to be okay. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever said it. But thank you. For everything you’ve done. Taking care of them and all that.” He says, and you just hum. 

“You guys gave me a home after everything. I’m just repaying my debt. Well… that and I love those kids.” You say, and he arches an eyebrow,

“After everything?” He inquires, and you glance up sharply as if not realizing what you had said. 

Eventually, your gaze casts downward, and you run a hand over your head and through your hair. 

“I was a doctor in Piltover before the rebellion. I was caught trying to help the Undercity before they were officially citizens and cast out.” You say, and his arched eyebrow raises even higher. 

“A doctor? Were you any good?” You bark out a dry laugh at that,

“One of the best!” Your voice cracks as you speak, and he feels his heart splinter into pieces. 

Vander should’ve known that Claggor and Mylo were up to something when they came in with sneaky grins on their faces. 

The Last Drop was all but desolate. It was the wee hours of the morning before the people of the Undercity awoke to begin their day. But the door was unlocked, and the kids were allowed to run in and out as they pleased. 

Which they had been doing a lot in the last hour or so. 

“Vander!” Mylor clamored for his adopted father’s attention, waving an excited hand as he scampered up to the counter. Claggor hung behind, ever the stoic young man. But there was mischief in their eyes and curling the corners of their mouths. 

Vander slung the rag he used to wipe the counters down over his shoulder and leaned on the bar counter. 

“What did you do now?” He teased, and Mylo all but squawked. 

“When have I ever done anything?!” Vander just stared, 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asked, and Claggor snickered at Mylo’s deflated expression. Mylo quickly spun on a heel and jabbed a finger at his adopted brother, 

“Not a word outta you, Claggor!” He snapped before spinning back as something dawned on him.

“You gotta come with us!” He demanded, and Vander glanced between the two of them. 

“Why?” He asked, and Mylo let out an exaggerated groan.

“No questions! Just come on!” He grabbed Vander’s hand and tried tugging him around the counter and toward the front door. 

Vander relented, locking the door behind him as he followed the two boys. 

Only to realize very quickly what was actually going on. 

His first tip-off was hearing Powder and Vi’s voices, yours mixed in as you asked where you were going, why they were taking you, and what they were doing. 

Vi answered no questions. Powder just chirped excitedly. “You’ll see! You’ll see!”

The six of you met in the middle of the street, Powder dragging you by your hand as you followed behind patiently. You glanced up from listening to Powder, and your gazes met. Vander felt his heart skip a beat as he took in your appearance. There wasn’t anything particularly new, but you looked like you had cleaned up some. Your hair was pinned neatly back, and your clothes looked ironed. 

You looked… Really nice.

“Vander? What’s going on?” You asked, and Vi nudged you with her good arm. Her fractured left one was still healing carefully under your care. 

“We’re setting you two up.” She teased, and you stared dumbly. 

“Setting us up how?” You asked, and now it was Powder’s turn to blurt out an answer, 

“On a date!” 

Before the two of you could react, all four kids all but disappeared around the corner in a cloud of dust. Leaving you facing Vander and utterly alone. 

It was safe to say he was panicking just a little bit. 

“Vander? Do you have any idea what they meant?” You asked gently, and he scrubbed a hand down his face. 

“My guess is they want us to go on a date.” He said, fully prepared to hear rejection. Because who would want to go on a date with him? A middle-aged man with a stained past. His lungs twisted as he heard you take a step closer. 

A smaller hand slipped into his, and he looked down from where he had been staring at Topside. 

Your eyes were lit up, not with disgust at the proposition he was proposing. 

But they were filled with hope for the future this relationship would bring. 

[nfwmb-gvf]

just keep rolling...

dr. jack abbot / reader

summary: sometimes it takes a little bit to get things rolling between you and jack...

warnings: mentions of minor injuries, drinking

a/n: i started writing this a few months ago before the season even ended so i am very happy to finally be getting this out. i wrote it as gender neutral so there shouldn't be any physical descriptors. yearning!jack and also kinda shy!jack idk it just kinda happened. pretty much entirely fluff (my two children are left clean and untouched by the horrors). this is completely self absorbent i needed skater jack abbot and this is what happened!

wc: ~5.1k

dividers from @saradika-graphics

The first time it happened was after a long shift. 

While the day shift got a beer and quiet in the park after a long day, the night shift got an assortment of baked goods, the quiet chirps of morning birds, and the occasional sighting of a deeply motivated runner out on their morning jog. 

You stepped out into the morning sun with a slight chill. Pittsburgh had survived yet another winter, but the spring mornings left a cool sort of frost that couldn’t be shaken yet. Ellis, Shen, and a few night shift nurses sat with steaming cups of strong coffee in hand on the benches that saw probably more PTMC workers than intended.

But of course, there was Abbot too. Jack. Sitting quietly but engaged on the edge of the group, taking in the unhurried chittering of the group with slow nods. 

Shen catches you in his periphery first, giving a nod before announcing, “Late to the party!”

A gentle eye roll and smile is all you give him as you take an empty spot near Jack’s bench. The go bag you have slung over one shoulder hits the bench first, your water bottle and old energy drink that didn’t (and won’t) get finished go next, but then a second bag (a new one, Jack notes) falls next to it all with a clunk. Then, your feet are moving on their own accord to where Ellis is propped, sitting on the backrest of the bench, with the white printed box of carbs and coffee laid by her feet. 

Lifting the lid, you mutter, “Ah shit, must’ve missed the good stuff.” Your eyes flit over the box’s contents, your usual post shift snack missing from the arrangement.

Ellis gives a sympathetic shrug, but Shen butts in before she can speak a word, “How does the saying go? You snooze, you lose?” He raises his eyebrows your way before taking a strong sip on his iced coffee. The small smile he gives lets you know he's just teasing.

You throw another eyeroll and give him a gentle shove.

Shutting the box and grabbing a hot cup, you walk back to your bench, explaining your lateness to the group. “It’s not my fault, charting a patient with a candle where the sun doesn’t shine happens to be more complicated than you'd think.” You sit with a huff.

Abbot, his eyes never having left you since your arrival to the scene, gives you a sideways smirk. Your eyes find his briefly, and you give him a soft one in return. 

You return to Shen, “Besides, having to figure out how to carry all this extra crap while getting through the heavy exit doors slowed me down”. 

Abbot glances at the bags next to you, and goes to comment on it before Shen claps both hands on his knees and goes to rise. 

“Alright everyone, enough for me.” 

This seems to awaken the once passive mood of everyone on the benches, the small talk turning into soft farewells and “see you tonight”s. Some people pass by you, and you offer them a small smile in return, settling further into the bench with no intention of moving anytime soon. 

After everyone has left, and the last of the muffins have been picked over, Abbot and you are left at the benches. You take a deep inhale and raise your eyes upward, admiring the soft rays of light as they peak through tree branches, refracting and reflecting on the dew drops that hang from each leaf. 

“Candle where the sun doesn’t shine?” A low voice grumbles, the teasing smirk evident in his voice. It’s the first thing he’s said since you’ve set foot in the park.

You set your eyes forward, head shaking back and forth slowly with a soft smile of your own, “Can’t say it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

You turn to look at him fully for the first time when you see him shift in your peripherals. 

A strip of sun lays just right on his face, and for a second looking at him almost becomes too much. All day everyday you see him under the constant glow of bright, clean lights. Seeing him bathed in the soft yellow of day sets something alight in you, something that only breathes in the quiet moments you’ve silently shared in the many years you’ve worked side by side.

Your trance is broken when he stretches across the bench under where his jacket lays on his side. He pulls out something, wrapped in a pink napkin – the ones that come customary with every order from the bakery where the early morning goods are supplied. He offers it your way.

“Figured you might get tied up.” His eyes reveal nothing.

With a confused look, you take it gently from him. Your body pays no attention to the sleepiness that engulfs itself as a zing goes down your fingers at the faint brush of your hands together.

It’s a subconscious reaction you’ve been fighting to control for years now.

You gently unwrap the napkin to see your favorite sweet tucked neatly inside, careful and delicate. 

“I -, you didn’t have to -,” you turn and beam at Jack, settling on “thank you.”

He shrugs and looks forward, like he didn’t take the risk of actually grabbing something from the box for once and getting a few jabs from Shen and Ellis after realizing you might take longer than normal to get to here. Like he hasn’t spent every shift memorizing what snacks were your favorite. Like he hadn’t spent the whole shift glancing at you, looking across the room for you, or thinking about you in basically any capacity.

Very casual.

It was always like that between you two, however. A protein bar here, a gentle pat of encouragement there. All unspoken. It was like you and Jack have always operated on some sort of frequency no one else tuned into.

The feeling swells again. 

He blinks, seemingly brought back from his contemplation, and looks back. He nods towards the bag with a curious expression.

“Oh! This?” You set the pink napkin wrapped gift delicately next to you before reaching for the bag. Inside is a set of roller skates, the wheels clearly worn but brilliant nonetheless. Four wheels and very eighties, just a hobby picked up from COVID. “Occasionally I skate around after work. We don’t really have a good set of bike racks around here so this is sort of the next best thing when I need a little more time to decompress after a shift…” You trail off, spinning a wheel as you fidget.

With no response from him, you look back up. “It’s kind of lame isn’t it,” you say, using that brand of self-deprecating humor that creeps up when you begin to feel embarrassed. There’s truly no reason to be, it just felt a little silly to be telling someone like Abbot that one of your preferred decompression activities involved pushing yourself around on skates like a middle schooler.

His mouth creases a bit as he frowns and shakes his head, “Didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, but, y’know, no one wants to see their doctor on rollerskates, right?” There it is again.

“Wouldn’t say that.” He has a look on his face you can’t quite decipher.

You shrug, smiling a little to yourself. You shrug off the unnecessary embarrassment as your finger spins one of the front wheels again.

You reach down to slip your shoes off your feet, suddenly sparked to life again.

He eyes you wearily as you begin to lace them up. There's equal parts amusement and equal parts something uniquely grumpy about him. 

You stand up slowly from the bench (and Jack has half the mind to reach out and steady you), but you begin to roll forward with little momentum.

You look at him with a little shrug, almost as if to say “watch this!”

You start to push yourself around, swaying gently back and forth. There’s no intention or motive, just simply taking a few loops. You circle around Jack, who cranes his neck either way to keep his eyes on you the whole time.

“I know I’m not that old, but something about just taking the time to skate makes me feel like a kid again,” you say, slowly coming to a stop in front of Jack. As if you needed to explain anything.

His eyes bore into yours, the soft dew surrounding you for a brief moment. All he can see is how your eyes twinkle. A slow nod is all he manages.

“You ride those all the way home?”

“Oh god no,” a small laugh and head shake, “I think my legs would turn into jelly.” 

You kick one stopper against the ground, “I, uh, there's a local park. Some kids are out before school and hang around there. I teach them how to skate sometimes.”

Jack's eyes glimmer. How like you to spend all night battling the horrors of the world in such a caring manner, only to get off shift and become a caregiver once more.

You shrug again, slowly riding back over to the bench and plopping down. You don't reach to take off the skates just yet, but spin them a bit as you drag them against the ground - kicking your feet gently like you were eight again.

A deep inhale, “I used to skate.”

You turn quickly, looking towards Jack. He’s looking forward, his eyes a little wistful. Almost like he’s somewhere else.

“Yeah?” You offer softly.

“Yeah,” a pause, “A long time ago…would skateboard around.”

His foot shifts a little bit, like remembering what the feeling was like was enough to send a sensation to something that wasn’t there.

Your heart swells just a little bit.

Only then do you reach down, untying the loose laces. 

“Well, you’re welcome to join sometime,” the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. You can’t bring yourself to look up from the tops of your shoes. “I’ve got a board too, although I prefer to stick with these guys.”

He stares forward for a beat longer before looking at you. Only when you see him move is when you turn to look. 

He gives a soft nod, something between acknowledgement and agreement. 

You nod back.

A few weeks go by before the topic is ever brought up again. 

You had been covering the day shift for three days now, and today was the first day that you felt your brain had somewhat caught up to the change in schedule. But that didn’t mean much for today, you were already down one doctor and it felt like a storm just trying to keep up with the normal inflow. However, when a bus full of college athletes flips on the highway mid-afternoon, everything becomes a bit too much. 

So it doesn’t surprise you to see a familiar ER cowboy come slinking in with his camo backpack slung over his shoulder. 

You had just finished attending to a smaller head lac, offering to go find her a blanket, when you see Jack. Your body seems to subconsciously relax knowing he’s there, especially after not having seen him for three days now.

“Thought you were off today?” You say once you get close enough.

His lips give a downturned smile and he shrugs softly. 

You nod in understanding, “No rest for the wicked.”

That gets you a real smile.

You take a step back instinctively when the sound of the ambulance bay doors come crashing open again, snapping back to the instincts that push you through the non-routine routine of the ER. 

With one nod your way, he moves to put his bag in the lockers. And you, you stand there dumbly while you try to remember what you were just doing before salt and pepper curls invaded your thoughts.

The shift ends without fanfare. It’s a minor miracle that everyone from the highway accident ends up okay, and that the shift “quiets” down after everyone is treated. 

After final rounds are made, and you bump elbows with Ellis to hand off any final patients, it was time for your day to come to an end.

You open your locker, your regular backpack sits at the front, but right behind sits that familiar tote bag. You groan internally. You had left your skates here for more than a few days now, and they really should come home at some point. Not only that, but a penny board sits in the bag, too. One of the kids had been asking, and it's difficult to say no to them (and maybe part of you was hoping someone else could get some use out of it, too). Today was just not the day that you wanted to lug them back with you. 

But I guess that was every day that they had sat there so far.

Princess appears by your side right as you’re closing your locker, both bags slung over your shoulder. You’ve worked with her more than a few times now, and she’s definitely one of your favorite nurses to have when things go south.

“A couple of us are going to decompress in the park for a bit…” The implication doesn’t have to be said to know what she means. 

You go to give her an answer, but your eyes drift over her shoulder to where Jack hunched over a computer trying to finish up the last of his own notes.

Princess looks at you expectantly. 

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I’ll be there in a bit.”

That satisfies her. 

As she walks to the exit, you head towards Jack. You sidle up alongside him.

“A couple of us are headed to the park, care to join?”

He looks up at you and the rejection he typically gives to anyone who asks that question falls flat on his tongue. 

“Sure,” leaves his mouth before he can realize that what he said wasn’t no. “I’ll be there.”

You give a gentle nod to the last of the electronic filing he had, “I can wait while you finish that up.”

That seems to fluster him a bit more. 

By the time you both have exited the doors of the ER, the party has well and truly started. There’s a small crew on the park benches - Robby, Mohan, Mateo, Javadi, Whitaker (surprisingly), Princess, and Donnie.

Now Princess is all well and good on her own, but Princess and Donnie? That’s where there’s an issue.

Two cans get tossed your way, one to you and one to Jack, but Princess and Donnie continue to stare long after you set your stuff down. You go to sit down before you hear someone clear their throat. They raise their eyes at you…and you look back, truly confused.

Then you remember.

“Really? I thought you guys were kidding about that,” you stare down at the unopened beer can.

“Nope!” Donnie tosses you his key chain.

You catch it, albeit reluctantly.

“I’m not in med school anymore,” you groan, “nor have I been for a while now,” comes a little quieter after.

Javadi tunes in at the mention of med school. “What’s up?”

“The three of us made a bet on a stolen ambulance and our friend here,” Donnie tips his beer your way, “has yet to fulfill their end of the bargain”. 

“Guys that was weeks ago at this point,” you groan further. 

“And it’s been weeks since we’ve seen you,” Princess retorts.

“Might I also add that you were the one confident enough to not only bet money but also a shotgun on this based on a gut feeling,” Donnie adds.

You turn to Jack, giving him a look to ask him to back you up.

But all you get is a mischievous grin in return. “Go on, doctor.”

You look up, then back down again, then sink one key into the bottom of the can. You slip one finger under the tab, slowly tip the can up to chug, and crack it open.

It’s slower than your med school days, but you still get a round of ceremonious cheers when you finish. You shake your head as you finish, wiping the stray drop at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“You’re setting a great example,” Robby chimes teasingly. Because that makes you feel better.

You toss Donnie his keys back, and get another beer in return. 

And when you finally sit down next to Jack on the bench, he gives you a proud smile and tips his beer your way. You laugh softly and clink the cans together.

It isn’t long after the shotgun stunt that people start to excuse themselves from the group. Mateo and Javadi take off at some point (which gets you an eyebrow raise from Princess). Whitaker whispers something about having left something inside his locker and that he had to go back in. When Donnie begins to pack up, everyone else takes it as their cue to start heading out as well. You grab another beer before he closes the lid to the cooler, you don’t have to work tomorrow anyways.

And it’s you and Jack alone at the park again.

It’s still. And you suppose it’s cold, too, but the two beers you have had so far leave a gentle thrum underneath your skin. 

You break the silence first with the crack of your third can.

Jack huffs a silent laugh as you take your first sip. Only this time, you don’t bother to hide the gentle grimace. 

“Do you even like that?” He asks quietly. 

“Jury’s still out, I think,” is your response. “Not my first choice, but it gets the job done.” Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask - “What about you?” The question comes out clunky and not at all conversational in the way you would have liked.

He nods, “I’m with you on that.”

“Well that surprises me, I think.”

“You think?”

You mull on it a little bit, “Yeah, I figured you would be. Are you sure you’re not out and around Pittsburgh hitting up all the craft breweries?”

He chuckles, “There aren’t any open at the time I’m out anyways.”

You giggle a little bit at that. 

You just can’t bring yourself to look at him. Your eyes are anywhere else - the streetlamps, the tops of your shoes, anything. You blame it on the alcohol, the fact that you’re alone, the fact that he’s been staring at you for the past five minutes and basically the entire night up to this point with the intensity that really only Jack Abbot could carry.

And when you do go to look at him, your eyes get snagged on that tote bag that separates the two of you.

“Oh!” You’re positively delighted by this discovery.

The beer gets abandoned on the bench. You immediately take off your shoes, hands diving into the bag and pulling out the delighted skates, and you pull them on without hesitation. 

You stand up with a “woo!” and push yourself forward. 

The first time you catch Jack’s eyes all night is when you look at him, full of delight, enchanted by the skates again. 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” You push yourself back to the bench again, going straight back to the bag. You pull out the penny board and look at Jack with wide eyes and an expectant grin.

Instead of the excitement you were expecting him to match you with, the look you see is one of apprehension. Maybe a small bit of melancholy. 

It makes you drop your smile immediately.

“Or not! You…don’t have to, at all. I know it’s been a few….because of…,” your voice trails. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth as you stumble over what you want to say. Your brain feels like it's tripping over itself to find what he wants to even hear. 

You end up on: “I’m sorry,” as you move to put the board back in the bag. 

“It’s okay,” he says. His hand stops you before you can pick the tote bag up. “I want to try.”

“Yeah?” A small smile creeps back onto your face.

“Yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Like the pure excitement thrumming off of you couldn’t power whole cities, like it didn’t pain him to see that excitement deflate at the thought of offending him.

He could do this, for you.

He stands up in the exaggerated old man way that makes you giggle as you hand off the board to him. He sets the board down in front of him, and it's almost a muscle jerk reaction to place his foot on the board to stop it from rolling. 

It feels…odd. Jack doesn’t have the same stability he used to as his prosthetic sits on the board. Or, at least, it’s more difficult for him to sense out the balance needed to push himself forward.

For a moment, he gets stuck. He wants to push his leg forward and start the roll of the board, but his leg feels locked in place. Jack knows how to do this. He’s done it so many times before, but that was years ago. Decades ago. During a time when both of his legs were his. Beyond the kicked up dust storm of memories this brings, he thinks he would have to move out of the country if he went to move forward and fell flat on his face.

Standing in front of him, you notice his stare becomes fixated on his leg. You see the rush of emotions that pass across his face - confusion, uncertainty, apprehension.

“Need help, cowboy?” You hope it comes across as light. 

Jack looks up, finally. The storm clears when he sees your face looking back at him expectantly, how at ease you are standing there. 

A small smile and a chuckle, he feels a little ridiculous for being scared. “Probably.”

That’s all it takes for you to position yourself beside him and loop one arm in his like it was the most natural thing in the world. As you stand side by side, his face is right next to yours. 

“You’ve got this,” you say with such sweetness in your voice he’s sure he might melt. “Besides, if you fall, I’m going down with you. Then we can both laugh at our stupidity.”

He turns his face away and shakes his head with a huff of a laugh before looking back at you.

“Ready?” You say.

“As I’ll ever be,” is the response you get before he gives a timid push forward.

As both of you start to roll, Jack gives another push before setting his foot on the board. He feels wobbly, but he can’t tell if it’s because he’s out of practice or your hands on him make him short circuit just a bit.

He doesn’t get a chance to think about it any further because you let out a short, “WOO!” as you both continue around the park. After a bit, you’re the one pushing the both of you forward, as Jack stays stable on the board. 

You look at him with a beaming smile (that he should have seen for what it truly is - mischievous) as you ask him, “Ready?”

Just as his eyebrows begin to furrow and ask you what you meant, you let him go with a gentle push. The change in balance only throws him off a bit before he finds his “footing” again and he continues to skate forward on his own. 

It isn’t long before his confidence builds and he maneuvers to turn around without a hitch. Right back to you. 

“Good job!” You cheer, skating over to be by Jack again, once forgotten beer back in your hand (if Jack sees, he makes no comment).  

The park is quiet, no one around, but the thrum of blood rushes through your ears loud enough to compensate.

You like seeing Jack like this, sporting a small smile meant only for himself while doing something he once loved.

Okay, fine, maybe that shotgun just really went right through your system. Maybe the other two were hitting a bit harder than you thought. But now, beer in hand and skates on your feet, you feel a little silly. 

It doesn't help that your adrenaline was through the roof, giggling to yourself as you watch Jack push himself gently around on his board. You giggle once again. 

“Jack!” You gasp when the idea comes to you after a healthy swig of beer. “Jack, Jack, jack, jack, jack,” his name comes spilling out of your mouth, your tongue getting twisted on the consonants before righting itself. 

“YOU! Should pull me and then we could go super fast!”

He shoots you a look of amusement. 

A stupid idea, a pair of wheels, and a few drinks? Sounds like the start to any ER trip. 

However, there's no slur to your words and you seem to balance yourself alright. You just seem - loose, relaxed. The giddiness you have just seems like a side to you he hasn't quite gotten to yet.

He relents and gives you a wave to “c'mere.”

You slide on over, and take his outstretched hand. The warmth stored in his palm immediately seeps through your body, spreading from one end to another. You almost wished you had wiped your hands on your scrub bottoms first before reaching out.

He raises his eyebrows at you, “Ready?”

You nod with a grin. 

Then he pushes off on one foot, barely fast at all, but you let out a soft squeal as you're pulled. You give yourself a little push as well, trying to gain some momentum. 

All original ideas of going fast fly out the window as you fall side by side, both pushing a little when needed. Your hands never let go, however. 

You spare a glance his way, then give a devilish smirk. With a hard push off of your right foot, you go to get in front of Jack. 

You giggle softly as you stare at him head on, now skating backwards. 

He huffs, “Show-off.”

There's a smirk hiding soft in the dimple on his cheek. 

You continue to ride backwards, “What can I say, I guess I'm just a pro-”

Your gloating is cut off, abruptly ended by a raised piece of sidewalk. You crash backwards, landing promptly on your butt and partially on your arm as you let out an undignified squeal of surprise. 

The beer rolls sadly into the grass.

Jack stops immediately in front of you, letting the board roll backward slowly as he immediately goes to your side. 

You sit up immediately, no broken bones or hits to the head. You pull your elbow up to look at it, though. There's a healthy scrape there from when you caught yourself. You let out a soft hiss as you look at the damage. 

“You okay?” His eyes are full of worry, immediately scanning you up and down. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, trying not to worry him as you flick a pebble off of your elbow. 

You were fine, truly. The scrape burned like a son of a bitch, but you were feeling more embarrassed than anything. If that squeal was recorded and played at any point, you’re sure you just might keel over and die of embarrassment. 

He very gently takes your elbow to assess the damage. “We should get this cleaned.”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” you object. “If we go back inside they’ll rope us into something and then we’ll never leave.”

Jack gives you a pointed look. It almost makes you laugh.

“I’m fine! I promise, I’ll just wash it out when I get home. No fuss.” You smile at him gently.

“Although…you could kiss it and make it better,” the words slip out before you can even process that it’s a thought that you have. 

You go to open your mouth to apologize, but then he drops a soft kiss to the uninjured skin on your elbow.

“Better?” His voice is soft, meant for only you. You’re sure you’re gaping at him with a stupid surprised look, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Every nerve is on fire but you’re frozen still.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. Your eyes flicker to his lips without even meaning to. You can still feel the spot on your arm where they touched, and, yeah, it doesn’t hurt anymore. 

He moves just a little closer and you’re sure the entire city block can hear your heartbeat at this point. 

Jack drops his forehead to yours slowly, and then your noses brush. He waits for any sign of a no, but it’s washed away when you breathe out “please”. 

He doesn’t wait after that.

Jack’s lips capture yours and it feels like relief. Your hand immediately goes to cradle one side of his face and you can feel the small amount of stubble scratch your fingertips. 

Your lips move together for a while before you start to feel desperate, wanting more. You go to move to put your other hand on his shoulder but you bump your elbow against him and immediately pull away. You hiss and look at your elbow again before giving him a sheepish smile.

He smiles brightly at you, and you swear it splits your soul in half.

“Alright, we should really clean that,” he says. 

“Yeah maybe,” you laugh. 

“Although…it’s a little difficult to reach…I might need some help,” you start teasingly.

He grins back at you, trying to figure out where you’re going with this.

 “And, you know,” you continue, “we can’t go back inside the Pitt…so maybe you should help me back at mine?” Your voice tilts upwards at the end, like you can’t really even believe you’re asking him this. 

You stare at him with bated breath.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Jack says, before leaning down to steal another kiss.

a/n: AHH! THANK YOU FOR READING! please let me know what you think and also please flood my inbox because i truly would love to keep writing. okay love you bye!

[rooksamoris]

Helloo amoraa! i really love your writing and always looking forward for more fanfiction you write. But may i send a request this time? To be honest this is my first time requesting, so hopefully i didn’t break any rules. I would like the overblot gang x fem reader (if you don’t mind) who eats lemon and lime like it’s an orange. Not lemonade, just straight up lemon (i love anything sour 🙏🏻🙏🏻😭). Perhaps reader is a kind person and always wanted to share her lemon and lime with the characters even if they don’t want it. Thanks a lot amoraa, have a great dayyy

SHARING SOUR SNACKS !!

💞 — featuring; riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia. 💞 — gender neutral reader. no warnings. i changed the reader to gn because it was inconsequential for this piece. hope you enjoy!!

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

🩷 — The first time you did it, Riddle was very quick to tell you that raw lemons had a high acidity which could burn your throat and cause an acid reflux. 

🩷 — He understands the health benefits, of course, but usually lemons in that case are used diluted in warm water or in a cup of tea. Overall, he's kind of concerned, lovingly so.

🩷 — When you do offer him a lemon, he accepts it because he is a gentleman, but he will have it made into a pastry. 

🩷 — Riddle has a strained relationship with food generally because of his mother, so he does find it kind of nice that you just eat what you like, even when it is literally a lemon that you peeled as if it were just an orange. 

🩷 — When Cater comments about his friend has a strange diet, Riddle is quick to say that it is perfectly fine, so long as you were happy and healthy.

He took the lemon you offered him, you even went through the extra effort of wrapping it in a pretty little bow, with a polite smile, “Ah… thank you, my dear,” he said. He asks Trey to bake it into something for him, and later in the afternoon you both are enjoying your respective lemons over some tea in the rose gardens. 

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.

🩷 — Honestly, Leona does not care that much. So long as you’re taking care of yourself, he does not care what you eat. He has his preferences and you have yours.

🩷 — He does think the smell of lemons and limes clinging to you is quite pleasant and it also makes you very easy to find in a crowd of people. 

🩷 — Whenever you do offer one to him, he declines. Respectfully, he does not really want to eat raw lime the way you do. If you continue to insist, he just takes it. I imagine the Sunset Savanna has some East African politeness rules that he grew up adhering to as it pertains to gifts.

🩷 — He’ll probably end up tossing it into the kitchen for someone else to enjoy.

🩷 — Overall, it makes no difference to him what you eat. It’s a little odd, yeah, but there’s no judgement coming from him.

“I know you’re there, kidege,” he said, not opening his eyes as he laid with his hands behind his head. He was laying out in the field, beneath a tree. It was a nice summer afternoon, with a breeze and heat that was not too unbearable. The wind brought with it the familiar scent of lemons and limes. He opens a single eye, “Come with more gifts? I can smell them on you.”

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

🩷 — Azul thinks it's odd, but he also assumes that would make it easy for him to sell you some lemonade or other sour drinks sold at the lounge. 

🩷 — He also assumes it must be a strange human thing. He and the twins grew up with completely different forms of food back in the Coral Sea, and there are plenty of acts committed by humans that he still thinks are odd. He has yet to completely assimilate to the world away from the ocean.

🩷 — When you try and order your usual plate of lemon slices, just lemon slices, he tries to offer you some lemonade instead and you just smile and repeat you just want your lemons. 

🩷 — Azul will provide, regardless. He likes having another customer just as any other business owner would. Still, he can’t help but ask the humans he knows on this issue.

“You’re here for your usual, yes? Worry not, I will personally bring it to you,” he said, before disappearing behind the kitchen. He brought your usual drink and a plate of lemon slices. He sets them down before furrowing his brow a bit. Oh, well. If you damaged your teeth enamel, he would be there to swoop in with a deal to get you sent to a dentist. 

JAMIL VIPER.

🩷 — Listen, I fully believe Jamil grew up with his parents telling him that lemons and honey were the cure for everything. All he needed to do was make some tea with ginger, lemon and honey and boom, all of his ailments would be healed. Sore throat? Lemon. Runny nose? Lemon. Broken bone? Well, most things could be healed with a good ripe lemon. 

🩷 — When you ask for lemon slices during a visit to Scarabia, he thinks that you might be feeling unwell, and obliges, bringing you some honey and warm water to.

🩷 — But then you don’t have the honey or the water and just start rawdogging the lemon slices like their oranges. He’s a bit off put by it, staring at you, waiting for some sort of reaction. 

🩷 — At first he assumed you were trying to catch him off guard on purpose, but soon he realizes it’s just some quirk of yours. 

🩷 — Now he slices extra limes if he hears you’ll be visiting Scarabia.

You were sitting on one of the ornate divans, leaning on one of the cushions. One of the other dorm members led you in when they saw you waiting outside and alerted Jamil. Eventually, he walked in, carrying a tray with some mango juice and a plate of sliced limes, “I heard you were coming to study. Eat first and then I’ll share my notes with you.”

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

🩷 — Absolutely not. He’s all for the benefits of having a slice of lemon or lime with your breakfast, but the thought of just eating them like they were oranges was just a no for him. 

🩷 — He’s very worried about your enamel and the possibility of the dreaded acid reflux. He will not enable your behavior and if you are in his presence, he will try to prevent it. If you come by to Pomefiore asking for lemons, you will have to have it in lemonade form. So sorry.

🩷 — He thinks it’s strange, but he’s done stranger things for his appearance and discipline, so there’s little judgement in that sense.

🩷 — Vil is just worried about your health, honestly.

🩷 — Overall, he likes that you make a habit of incorporating a nutrient dense item into your food, he just does not like the amount you consume, and the manner in which you do it. You will have to dilute your limes into water in his presence.

“Ah–ah,” Vil clicked his tongue as he gently tugged the lime slice away from your hand. You brought yourself some lime slices in a little plastic bag. His immaculate brows were knitted as he walked over to bring you a glass of water, shaking his head, “What did I tell you about the acidity in these? You have to dilute it so that you won’t damage your teeth. You’re almost as stubborn as Epel.”

IDIA SHROUD.

🩷 — Bro, how in the world did you sneak a fruit this close to him?

🩷 — Idia sticks to that which comforts him when it comes to food. He likes his brightly colored candies, his crunchy chips and his highly caffeinated drinks. He is not interested in foods which are too complex or have mushy sorts of textures. 

🩷 — His patience is thin and I doubt he's very interested in cutting up fruits. The rare times he actually sees you in person, whenever you’re dropping something off at Ignihyde or picking something up, you always have some sour treat in hand. You offered it to him once, and took anxious to tell you no explicitly, he accepted.

🩷 — It was not a good reaction. The texture of the lemon slice bothered him greatly, the ridges where the juices spilled especially, and that was not even considering the taste. Safe to say, his expression embarrassed him greatly.

🩷 — He avoided you for a while after that. Sour gummy worms, sure, but raw dogging a lemon is not for him.

“U–uhm, yeah, here. Your phone is… is fixed,” he muttered, looking up at you from his desk as he held the device out to you. You were picking up your phone after he dealt with some virus issue you came across. He was still getting around his embarrassment from the lemon slice incident. Gently, he pushed a bag of sour gummies your way, “... want some? They… uh— they’re better than the limes…”

MALLEUS DRACONIA.

🩷 — Malleus did not think it was weird until he saw other people react to it. You just like lemons and limes, just as he likes shaved ice and popsicles. Sure, you seemed to like them excessively, but it was kind of cute. 

🩷 — He sees Sebek gawk at you as you peel a lemon and take a bite out of it and then he realizes it is weird. To others, of course, not to him. 

🩷 — When you offered him one of your lemon slices, he was flattered. It was sweet of you to share that which you enjoyed with him. He accepted with thanks, but tells you that it would have probably been more pleasant as a frozen sweet treat.

🩷 — One day a local grocery stores finds themselves graced with the presence of the great Prince Malleus Draconia of the Briar Valley.

🩷 — That very night he comes to you with a little carton of lemon flavored ice cream and two freshly polished spoons to share it. You shared your treat with him, and now he was to return the favor.

“I believe I much prefer the lemon in this form,” he said, thinking very seriously about the ice cream, comparing it to the lemon slice you shared with him the day before. This was sweeter, and he liked how cold it was. His glimmering green eyes shifted in your direction and he tilted his head to the side, his raven hair falling forward slightly, “And what do you think, child of man?” he asked.

©rooksamoris 2025. do not steal or translate my work!

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[kancelolol]

Serendipitous Treasure Sae Itoshi x GN!reader

After dating Sae Itoshi for a few months—and knowing him for even longer—you always thought that you'd be the first one to say 'I love you'.

wc: 1.5k || Gender-neutral reader || Fluff || Oneshot

"Lower your hat more," you chuckle softly, speaking at a low volume as you usher your boyfriend to follow your orders.

Sae grunts but wordlessly complies, pulling his cap further down this forehead to shield his face. As gorgeous as he was, the last thing you wanted was to be interrupted by paparazzi on his day off.

You tug him along with you, hand in hand down the city's streets while the clear sky and buzzing sun observes from above. He remained close to your side, but whether it was out of concern of his identity being revealed or simply a desire to be near you was a mystery, thanks to his usual impassive demeanor.

Or maybe it wasn't. You think you could make a pretty accurate guess based on how he held onto your hand like an otter holding onto kelp so that it doesn't float away from its home.

As you two strolled closer towards your designation, the number of strangers dwindled until you reached a tiny store. It stuck out like a sore thumb next to the other adjacent buildings, decorated with bright posters and colorful handmade windchimes that dangled from the wooden awning. You push the front glass door open, and a bell rings, prompting a short, elderly woman to look up from behind the counter.

She smiles—her eyes wrinkled and nearly closed—as she greets you, "Welcome. If you need any help, feel free to ask."

You lift your cap a bit to return her friendliness, "We will, thank you!"

You hum a tune that had been engraved in your mind for the past few days, as you saunter through the aisles with Sae in tow. Scanning the shelves full of yarns and threads, you try to find what you came for.

"Would this work?" Sae picks up a plastic packaging containing a bland, metal bracelet base with clasps.

"Ooh! Good eye!" You eagerly bump your shoulder against his, snatching the item from his hand to get a better look.

He intently watches you examine the product, gently smoothing the back of your hand with his thumb. He relishes in moments like these, where it feels like only the two of you exist in the world.

He's used to the buzz of the media. Used to the adrenaline coursing through every player on the field.

And the chase.

The chase for something greater than his present self.

But he likes this type of present. Maybe even loves it.

He loves the way you subconsciously swing your intertwined hands, and the way your lips curled up when you're satisfied with the item.

"Glad we already found something on our list this quickly." You comment as you grab two of the same brand, feeling pleased.

"Well, with how small this place is, I doubt it'd take long to find anything." He remarks, unintentionally insulting the space and disregarding the fact that the store owner was a mere ten feet away.

You let out a silent gasp, "Sae!"

He blinks and raises an eyebrow at your hushed scolding. Simultaneously, a raspy and airy laugh echoes throughout the empty shop.

"It might be small, but sometimes, it's the little things that have greatest treasures!" The old woman grins light-heartedly, fortunately taking no offense to Sae's words.

You quickly apologized before immediately dragging Sae to the furthest corner of the building—which wasn't very far if you asked Sae.

You continued to lecture him about his manners, half serious—half amused. Because after all, you suppose he would lack his usual charm if he didn't actively show off his crown for being the most unfiltered person to walk the earth.

Thankfully for Sae, you get distracted mid-ridicule by a basket sitting at the bottom of a shelf. You let go of his hand—much to Sae's disappointment (he wonders if this is your revenge for his previous behavior)—in favor of crouching down to get a closer look inside.

"Sae! C'mere!" Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him from the ground, holding a few packs of beads and charms. Sae lowers himself to your level, scooting right next to you. You animatedly dig through the basket and debate which ones to get for your matching bracelets, while Sae leans in to peer inside the basket, and then at you.

"Hey! Look! Don't these beads kind of match your eyes?" You light up at the find, picking up the pack before lifting it to his face. When you see how Sae's eyes and the beads glimmer a similar shade of teal, your lips can't fight back the cheek splitting smile.

"I think I'll get this one," you retract your hand, admiring the beads confined in the plastic baggie.

One corner of his mouth slightly curves up as he crosses his arms over his knees, "What? Just because it matches my eyes?"

"Yeah? Got a problem?" You snicker, resting your head against his shoulder.

Both corners now twitch upwards before they fall straight again, "Hmm...no. I guess not."

He runs his hand through the pile of beads, carefully inspecting each one. His movements only stops when his eyes catches a familiar color.

He raises it and mimics your earlier actions, glancing between your eyes and the beads.

"I'll get this one." He states with finality, like no other beads could dream to compare. You look at his selected color and grin like crazy.

"Copycat."

He scoffs, "Well they're supposed to be matching, no?"

"Fair enough," A huff of laughter escapes your mouth as you hold your choice of beads next to his, watching them gleam under the ceiling lights.

"Now we'll always have a reminder of each other." You softly whisper.

You're not doing anything grand. Just squating on the floor of a random crafts store during the afternoon.

But Sae loves it. He loves the pressure of your head on his shoulder. He loves the weight of your body leaning into his, alongside the distinct smell of your fragrance. He loves everything about you, even when your bothersome habits causes headaches from time to time.

Somewhere along the line, somehow, the things he once just liked about you—once despised about you—turned into things that he loves. That he cherishes.

"I'm in love with you."

You don't initially react. But when his words finally register, your head whips around at him while your body shifts backwards. You stare at him with wide eyes, your mouth hung slightly open before it breaks into a huge smile.

"Wow. Is Sae Itoshi actually saying 'I love you' first?!"

He scowls at you, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, "What? Didn't think I could?"

"Sort of?" He narrows his eyes at your response.

You laugh breathlessly as your arm loops around his, "I'm messing with you. Couldn't have you been a little more romantic with it though?"

"What did you expect?" He raises a brow, entertaining your question.

You hold up a finger to your lips, pretending to think, "Flowers. A romantic dinner. You know, the least you could do for your partner."

You only said that as a joke, but he gazes into your eyes with unwavering seriousness.

"Let's do that then."

Your mouth falls open, "What?"

"I'll take you on a date later. I'll find a restaurant. And buy you flowers." He declares. Not like it was a promise, but rather, a factual statement. Like he was going to guarantee that it happened.

You bite your lip to suppress your growing smile, dramatically leaning back with a hand over your heart, "You're making me swoon so hard right now."

He rolls his eyes and lightly smacks the small packet of beads against your forehead. On the outside, you're whining about his cruelty, while you internally replay Sae's words in your head on repeat—trying to push back the giddiness in your chest that's threatening to be displayed on your expression.

"So, am I getting an 'I love you' back or?" He peers at you from the corner of his eyes, head tilted to the side as he looks at you expectantly.

You pause for a few seconds before your lips form a mischievous smirk.

"You technically didn't say it~" You point out in a sing-song voice.

"I love you."

His reply doesn't skip a beat, but your heart sure does.

"...You're such a loser." You maintain your smirk, but you feel your face slowly warming up.

He notices. He always does. But he deadpans anyway and turns his head away from you.

"Nevermind. Just say you hate me."

You burst into a fit of laughter, which you're certain the old woman can hear, but your heart feels too full to care.

Content with your teasing, you lean in and place a soft kiss on his cheek. Your breath tickled his ear as you murmur into it with a fond smile, "I love you too, Sae."

His face relaxes, and his lips quirk up into a faint smile as he admires the beauty of you in your casual attire—while you stare at him like he was your whole world.

Yeah, Sae really did love little moments like these.

Perhaps the old lady was right. This truly was the greatest treasure.

Author's Note

Having major Sae brainrot when I'm not even a stan 💔 His character is just so interesting to write I fear...

[mayhaps-a-blog]

Folks I just finished this week's episode and I loved it so much I have to talk about it

Unfortunately most of my friends aren't caught up so y'all are getting the unhinged rant instead XD Sorry not sorry

So interesting to see Gurathin's backstory, which we never get in the books - for any of them, really - which says so much about why he's been like that for the show!

And SecUnit being SO BAD at deescalation, like my dude, my gender-lacking guy, you are so awkward XD

And we got the monologue from the books about why SecUnit doesn't just walk off, which really does help say why it's sticking around (even if it's at least partially a lie, you could never abandon a client SecUnit and you know it XD ), like it has actually thought about this, you know?

And that final shot - that was SUCH a good shot, showing us the enemy SecUnit's face. That little reminder that we've mostly seen them as faceless constructs - that the PresAux team has only seen faceless constructs, look at the contrast in how they've dealt with LeeBeeBee's death vs. enemy SecUnit 1 at DeltFall and now - but SecUnit itself can never forget.

Everything Mensah, Arada, and Ratthi is arguing for, everything they're slowly convincing themselves is true about SecUnit, is ALSO true of the other SecUnits. They can see it as a person now, because it's talked to them, shown them its face, dealt with them in a human manner. But they still haven't reckoned with the fact that every other SecUnit - including the ones trying to kill them - are exactly the same.

Trapped in the same position. Forced to guard their stupid clients, follow their every stupid order. Forced into killing those clients, attacking PresAux, other SecUnits - things they never asked for.

They want to know if SecUnit feels regret? For killing LeeBeeBee? I don't know, do they feel any regret for killing the first SecUnit?

How could SecUnit feel regret? It was doing its job. It was being a good SecUnit. It's never been allowed to feel regret before.

Mensah's starting to get it - that mining drill comment was such a good line, and she's finally starting to think. And that realization, that start, is why we can see SecUnit starting to trust her - starting to listen to her, where it still can't deal with the others.

This show is SO FUCKING GOOD and I can't believe I need to wait a whole week for the next episode :'(

[alllgator-blood]

I don't usually do anything for pride month cause I'm fruity every day of the year, but ahhh let's just say this year it felt especially important. Hope everyone is doing safe and that your ally friends/family members are giving you all their worldly possessions + sacrificing heretics in your name! I actually drew a very similar picture last year but didn't end up finishing it, some of the flags were definitely different though. NARINDER HAD THE EVIL AUTISM FLAG FOR SOME REASON. Shamura was the only one I finished so I'll just drop them off here:

Wow look at them go, rejecting humanity and encompassing cosmic knowledge and ceaseless war rather than masculinity or femininity....what an icon

Over the year that I've been in this fandom, I've had a lot of thoughts about Shamura's gender that I'll dump here, I WILL SAY it gets more ranty than I've ever gotten on this blog + talks about the fandom itself, so I hid it under the cut. But I feel like I've been pretty tame on this blog so far and because it's pride month, I have the legal right to make ONE rant about a queer fictional character's perception by the fandom

My weak enby heart still has a fucking death grip on shamura that hasn't been loosened in over a year at this point. They're not the best nonbinary representation in media but they're MY FAVORITE and that's all that matters. I can't stress how awesome it felt playing an actually cool, fun game a couple years ago and seeing that the Wisest, Most Powerful Eldritch Beast in all the land was a disabled nonbinary person. And it goes completely without question, it's like yeah that's shamura and *they're* going to traumadump on you and mind control your followers to rebel against you. Don't even worry about it bro

Being like....nonbinary and disabled and native and butch and yadda yadda, I swear to god I just got used to having no media/characters I could relate to. I didn't even think about how bad it felt until I'd stumble into the odd comic or indie game that had a Diverse Cast that MAY feature someone like me, but generally those types of things don't really *do* much with those characters. Not to be like THEY JUST WANT BROWNIE POINTS but...uhhh.........is it so bad to say that sometimes it does feel that way lmao, I won't play your game or read your comic if I feel like you see me as a checkbox to tick rather than a person with a fundamentally different experience.

I'll take this time to say it is kind of disheartening to see the fandom's treatment of shamura's gender sometimes, as someone who uses exclusively they/them. I've got a thick fucking skin, I've publicly acknolwedged I was genderless since before the nonbinary flag was even made, I've had a lot of time to roll with the punches that inevitably come from being trans. But literally one of the first comments I ever got about my shamura headcanons (when I still posted on reddit like a year ago) was that they didn't like that I made them AFAB and said "why can't they just be completely genderless". Like...making the TRANS character TRANSITION at some point was a bad thing? I wasn't saying "they're a girl in my drawings lol" and I even explained that I made them AFAB so I could connect with them better but. Ough

I s2g just mentioning this character brings up arguments, same with the lamb to a lesser extent, but DO NOT look at the reply chains on the youtube uploads of ANY of shamura's songs. It's always that someone calls them a him or her, someone corrects them, someone crucifies that person for being the Woke Police, blah blah blah IT'S AWFUL. It's funny in a way that the mere presence of a nonbinary person is enough to start a small war, but it also feels dehumanizing to know that my gender just cannot respectfully be talked about the same way binary genders can.

While I'm still talking about this, I don't hold it against people who played the game in other languages and call shamura "he" or w/e because from their perspective, the character is male. I've not changed my perspective of the character because I found out they're male in other releases, so I can readily accept that those folks won't either. But it feels....gross to see people who played it in english who just picked whatever binary gender they wanted shamura to be and went with that. Literally every single character with a confirmed gender is male except like, Heket + Forneus + Monch, so to take the ONE undebatably nonbinary character and decide they're not good enough the way they are is....ough. "It's my headcanon" bro that's erASURE IDK HOW ELSE TO TELL YOU. The people doing it probably literally do not comprehend what it's like to never see themself in the media they consume so I don't hate them or anything, but it took me like two decades to find a character whose gender feels like mine. It's lonely out here man

There's something to be said about me talking about that while making my kallamar nonbinary, but I'll just say this: there are so, so many male characters out there. If there was a crowd of millions of characters and ONE GUY vanished, you wouldn't be able to tell. But if there was like...a broom closet with like 9 they/thems, you'd fuckin notice if one was gone. AND I DO. Nonbinary representation isn't good enough rn to be taking the very few they/them characters out there and being like "nope my headcanon is that you're just some guy/chick", especially when sooo many people do it. Me taking one sopping wet man out of that crowd and being like "you can still be a sopping wet man, but sometimes you're a girlfail and sometimes your gender is squid" isn't the same I don't feel, otherwise I wouldn't have done it. I can't stop anyone from making shamura binary, we're all just random internet artists and do as we please, but I'm still allowed to judge from afar. I've definitely had people judge my headcanons from afar lmao

edit: I walked away and had to run back because I need reiterate, if you give Shamura features that are seen as "binary" but keep them nonbinary I think it's cool and based, especially if you are also nonbinary and just want to connect with the character more. "Gendered features" or w/e that are on a nonbinary person don't detract from their nonbinary-ness and we don't owe anyone perfect androgyny. I have boobs and an hourglass shape but also a lot of body hair + mustache and a good amount of muscle mass, doesn't mean I'm more girly or manly.

Okay end of rant, I had to get that off my chest for like EVER tbh. I really really hate discourse or drama or w/e but this is a topic that does mean a lot to me, so I made an exception this one time to make my opinion known.

[flowersdiceandlove]

Inspired by @sunderwight cosplaying Shen Yuan posts

No transmigration. cumplane.

People obviously take pictures of him when he goes to cons and posts them. They get a lot of attention. People are always in awe at the accuracy and amazing quality of his costumes. The people he commissioned them from get a lot of business afterwards. He pulls off the crossplay really well because of his pretty face and slim body. He just has to add padding in the right areas and learn makeup from his meimei and online tutorials. Sometimes people really can't tell he's a guy it's so good. Especially his Liu Mingyan cosplay that he does the most. She's his favorite of the wives after all and one of the few he thinks close to worthy of Binghe. He's done multiple different outfits for her. He never cosplays Luo Binghe, though. He doesn't think he could pull it off, Binghe is just that amazing. (But obviously he can pull Binghe's peerless beauty wives off.)

His PIDW cosplays make their way to the forums and people talk about them. It is a known fact in those forums that Peerless Cucumber will roast them to hell and back for their inaccuracy and shoddy craftsmanship. So, it is very strange that he never comments on these cosplays. Yes, they're amazing, but surely Peerless Cucumber could find at least one thing wrong with them. Eventually someone tags him in the comments or makes a post asking about them. He replies with something like "I'm the one who designed those. do you really think I would go out like that without them meeting my expectations?" but with more scathing remarks and saying he's not like the others who are fine with cosplay inadequacy.

That spurs many people to go look back through all of this cosplayer's previous cosplays, not just the ones from PIDW, and collectively think "oh wow, he's so pretty." It's a total shock through the entirety of the PIDW forums and fandom. They all thought Peerless Cucumber was some ugly dude behind a computer screen. They're a mix of feeling bad about themselves because when Peerless Cucumber tore them a new one in the forums they comforted themselves with thinking "You're just like us! Just some dude reading trashy novels! Nothing special! You're just mean cause you have nothing going for you!" and also the Peerless Cucumber fanclub growing because he is just that pretty and going feral over it.

His gender comes into question because a good number of people are convinced he's actually a girl. When he catches wind of that he responds with "Of course I'm a guy you idiots!! WTF!? Have you gone blind after reading all of Airplane's stupid writing!?" He's giving gender envy to a lot of people.

Some people are still unconvinced that the cosplayer is actually Peerless Cucumber because how can someone that pretty be Peerless Cucumber? They think he's just trolling everyone or something.

In the newest arcs of PIDW some very pretty ladies with cutting words and biting insults and criticisms are introduced. The ladies all have very high expectations of what their spouse should be like and have turned away every man seeking their hand in marriage. Of course when Luo Binghe enters the scene he meets all their expectations and requirements and sweeps them off their feet. A lot of readers who are keeping up on the Peerless Cucumber cosplay saga make the connection. Shen Yuan does not, and tears the new wives apart about how mean they were to Binghe at first, and then about how weak and pathetic they are, and then their clinginess, and so on. With every new day, Peerless Cucumber's criticisms are rectified as the arc continues, but he always finds something new wrong with the women. The other readers have varied reactions to this development. Some think that Peerless Cucumber should just shut it and let the Great God Airplane do his thing. Some of the people who Know about the cosplay saga and made the connection just want this time of Airplane making Peerless Cucumber into one of Binghe's wives to be over because this is a stallion novel. They don't want to read about Bingge seducing fem fantasy Peerless Cucumber. Just give them the normal women back. Other readers who Know are excited for the eventual sex scenes. Shen Yuan is just happy that his critiques are finally being taken into account, hoping that maybe at this rate Binghe will get an actually good wife and not just another useless beauty to throw into the harem garden.

Eventually Shen Yuan starts criticizing even the current to-be-wife's name, and so Airplane goes on and asks "Well what would you name her then if you've got so many ideas?" and generally just trying to bait him. It works, and Shen Yuan give a very beautiful name actually that fits her character and background. It is revealed in the next chapters that the name they've known her by so far isn't her real name and her actual name is the one Peerless Cucumber came up with.

The seemingly endless amount of chapters continues and the pretty but scathing wives get added to the harem and the story goes on. However, those wives get brought back out to go on adventures with Binghe and are otherwise reoccurring characters in the story. If one was paying close attention and looking for it, they would notice that the wife makes an appearance after Peerless Cucumber makes a particularly harsh comment or scathing criticism. People take to trying to bait Peerless Cucumber into doing it so they get more of those wives and especially the one he named which is becoming a fan favorite. Fanart gets made of her and people tease Peerless Cucumber about it. He critics all the fanart with his known ruthlessness about canon accuracy.

Some people have dropped it cause they don't want to see Peerless Cucumber get wifified any more, some people get even more invested because of that. A good number of people still don't think Peerless Cucumber is the cosplayer.

It comes to a head with an upcoming con in a few months. Airplane has a panel there. People are also asking if Peerless Cucumber will be going in cosplay. He says he's thinking about it and has some ideas on what character to go as, but is still deciding. Of course people instantly hone in on that and tell him he should go as the wife he practically made. He says no at first, but then Airplane comes on and says he'd really like to see him do that cosplay. Shen Yuan decides to take that opportunity. You see they have met, briefly, in the past at cons, but Airplane always finds a way to bail when Shen Yuan really starts laying into the critiques. Shen Yuan wasn't in cosplay those times and he had a face mask on so he wasn't recognized that way but no one could mistake Peerless Cucumber's reviews. Airplane also doesn't do cons very often, choosing to focus on writing the story instead.

And so, the following conversation occurs in the forum:

Peerless Cucumber: I will if you stop running away from me at cons.

RandomUsernameI'mTooLazyToComeUpWith: oh shit, oh great god airplane do it! do it!

RandomUsernameI'mTooLazyToComeUpWith2: yeah i gotta se this fuck itll be so hot

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: you got a deal. you wear that cosplay and you can say whatever you want for however long you want. it'll even be in character.

RandomUsernameI'mTooLazyToComeUpWith: oh hell yeah!!! whooo!!!

Peerless Cucumber: You better mean that because I will bring printouts with notes and highlighted sections.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: bring whatevr you want so long as you wear that cosplay.

With that, the PIDW fandom holds even more excitement for the upcoming con because not only with the Great God Airplane be there they'll also get a peerless beauty of a cosplayer in a sexy outfit. The wife in question's outfit isn't the most revealing of the wives because Peerless Cucumber always critiques the practicality of that, but it's still the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way so there is some skin showing.

The con rolls around and the PIDW fans are on the lookout for someone dressed as That Wife. For the first couple days, Shen Yuan makes rounds to booths, not in cosplay, getting merch and volumes as he goes because he has a lot of things to say to Airplane and wants to get the bulk of his shopping done first so they have time and he doesn't hold up the line of people to see Airplane.

On the last day of the con is when he dons his cosplay of That Wife and get his character-accurate bag with the printouts and evidence of Airplane's failing as an author in it. He still makes stops at other booths on his way to the official PIDW one. He gets stopped to take photos and gets compliments on his cosplay. Eventually the PIDW fans find him go even crazier about it. Some say things like "I can't believe it's really you!" and word gets around the PIDW fans that Peerless Cucumber is here and he is in That cosplay and he does look fucking hot. Shen Yuan stays in character of the icy beauty as he interacts with the fans which only fans the flames. Before he even makes it to Airplane's booth he gets swarmed with PIDW fans, some are mean to him and want to knock him off his high-horse, but they get a verbal smackdown from Shen Yuan (still in character) and shoved aside by his own fans who start calling out their online handles asking for Shen Yuan's honest thoughts about them. And he does so either tearing them apart with words, saying they honestly didn't leave enough of an impression for him to even know, and in very rare instances offer some praise.

Shen Yuan finally makes it to the PIDW booth Airplane is at later than he wanted, but he makes it there with an entourage wanting to see the showdown. There are also guys hanging around the booth who have been waiting for this. When Airplane finally sees Shen Yuan in his cosplay, he thinks "Fuck. He's even hotter in person." and is more than happy to listen to all of Shen Yuan's complaints and looking at the highlighted parts of his novel and citations showing how historically inaccurate that is and the discrepancies within his own body of fiction.

Shen Yuan is still going and isn't even close to being done when they announce that the venue is closing and asking for everyone to start making their way out. Shen Yuan glares up at the intercom, still wanting to continue his triad.

"Well, I did say you could keep going however long you wanted so long as you wear that cosplay. I didn't say it had to be at the con," Airplane says, and Shen Yuan looks at him with considering eyes.

"Hmm. That is true, and I still have a lot to go through..."

They end up going to a restaurant for dinner (Shen Yuan's treat), and Shen Yuan continues all through the meal. When he still has more to say when the restaurant says that it's closing, he gets the most expensive suite at the most high-end hotel in the area with his richboy money because that's the only room left with the con going on. Shen Yuan figures that after spending so much time with Airplane today (along with reading so much of his writing) he has a pretty good grasp on the guy and doubts he's gonna get murdered by him so gets the hotel room. Airplane is in awe at all the fancy shit and money that Shen Yuan spends like it's nothing.

They stay in the main living room of the suite where there are couches. Shen Yuan lays his printouts out on the table, and even pulls up webpages on the rooms tv. There are pjs among other items reserved for the high-end rooms. Airplane ends up changing into the pjs and marvels over them being silk. Shen Yuan ditched his shoes and some smaller parts of his cosplay, but keeps the bulk of it on due to the agreement. Despite the dinner, Airplane also snacks on the room's food while Shen Yuan continues his verbal assault.

At one point, though, Airplane interrupts Shen Yuan, clutching his arm, looking at him with tears in his eyes. "Bro... Cucumber-bro... You... You're like an actual angel, dude. I died and this is heaven."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Shen Yuan asks, annoyed at the interruption, he was just about to connect another point.

"The food. This room. The silk pjs. Bro. This is heaven."

"No it's not. And stop crying!"

"Bro..."

Shen Yuan ends up patting his back for awhile while Airplane cries on his shoulder. His hand migrates up to Airplane's head and pats his fluffy head of hair that is actually really soft (Airplane took a shower and made sure his hair looked good since he knows how scathing Shen Yuan is and hot he was gonna look in the cosplay).

They eventually start drinking a some of the alcohol in the suite's fridge, but don't get too drunk. Nothing really happens, but they do end up sleeping in the same bed and cuddling in it because they fell asleep while Shen Yuan was still criticizing him.

The next morning Shen Yuan finally can't take the cosplay and makeup anymore and takes a shower while Airplane sleeps in. Airplane wakes to the sight of Shen Yuan in a hotel bathrobe, finishing drying his hair with his glasses on(he'd been wearing contacts and only switched to his glasses late into the night), and the sunlight from the window shining on him.

"Oh, fuck," Airplane says, staring at him.

"What?" Shen Yuan asks, not sure why Airplane is staring. He's not doing anything weird! He's just drying his hair! There's nothing wrong with wanting a shower after being in that getup for so long! He's just a normal dude right now! What's with that blank stare!?

"It's not just the makeup..." Airplane mumbles and face-plants back onto the bed with a groan. Shen Yuan is left confused, but eventually throws a room service menu on the bed asking what he wants for breakfast.

Before his shower, Shen Yuan had called home and asked his family's butler to bring him a change of clothes because he doesn't want to put all of his cosplay back on. This is why, after breakfast, Airplane sees Shen Yuan dressed in another well-tailored outfit, this time much more modern and male, made up of pale greens and creams looking like he just walked off a fashion runway.

"Brooooo... How do people like you exist?"

They end up exchanging some contact info because even though Shen Yuan talked until they fell asleep, he still has more to say. Airplane does agree to listen and says Shen Yuan only has to be in cosplay for the really harsh stuff.

Clips fans had recorded of Shen Yuan's triad at Airplane at the con get circled around and the PIDW fandom is on fire with it. People are going crazy over it. Shen Yuan's Peerless Cucumber inbox gets flooded with people requesting different cosplays along with sexual jokes and comments. The next chapter of PIDW has a dedication at the top to Peerless Cucumber and thanks. The next arc in the story is about Luo Binghe getting stranded in a place where fighting is outlawed, without any money, strict societal structures, and needing to recover from a battle. The love interest who helps Luo Binghe in his time of need is the daughter of a very wealthy family who starts off as cool and astute that can give a verbal lashing better than anyone is slowly revealed to have a soft spot for Luo Binghe in his weakened state. She takes care of him and even takes to giving him gentle pats on his head. When Binghe ends up getting into a physical fight with one of the villains of the arc, she comes to his defense against the society's court vouching for his good character. They place him in her custody due to her family's good name and she sets him up in a lavish living space with anything he could possibly need. When they find out that the love interest has a younger sister only a few years younger and not just two older brothers, the fans think she's gonna get haremed as well, but, surprisingly, the little sister doesn't join the harem with her elder sister. Peerless Cucumber praises the decision to leave the little sister be, happy that Luo Binghe is finally showing discernment of who to let into the harem.

After a couple more arcs, Airplane posts a notice that says he'll be slowing the pace of updates as he starts planning out the arcs leading up to the end of the story and hopes his fans understand. While the updates do lessen in frequency, the word count of each chapter does not and the quality improves, plot holes being filled and storylines being flushed out.

Within a well-furnished and kept apartment in the city is where Airplane works on all of this having moved there on Shen Yuan's dime when Shen Yuan learned the reason for the atrocious writing was that he was trying to make money to live and had to pander to his readers. The fridge stocked and living space confirmed, Airplane is now able to actually write quality verse the quantity. He even has a brutally honest beta reader who seems to spend more time here than at his family's estate.

While Shen Yuan never says it, Airplane is pretty sure they're dating, even if they aren't that physical with each other other than Shen Yuan running a hand through his hair while he reads, leaning against each other, holding hands when their out "so they don't get separated in the crowd"(there is no crowd Cucumber-bro), a hug when meeting and leaving each other, and the occasional cuddle session when Airplane is having a Time of it or Shen Yuan is dealing with medical issues or Shen Yuan spends the night and they a share the bed. He feels this suspicion is confirmed when Shen Yuan introduces him to his parents and they ask Airplane to take care of their son. So Airplane takes to hugging Shen Yuan more and despite a little grumbling about clinginess, doesn’t stop him and will even pat his head or arm or shoulder or even hug back.

Once PIDW is completed after a harrowing four years, Airplane takes a break to plan out his next story then shocks everyone by writing a fantasy novel featuring two men as the main couple. The writing itself is so different from PIDW with well thought out storylines, character backstories, and complex characters and settings. It gets in the top five on the website it's posted on and Airplane even gets a contract with a publisher. Shen Yuan couldn't be prouder of him.

Shen Yuan still cosplays. He even commissions outfits to be made of Airplane's not yet published characters so Airplane can see how they look irl and Shen Yuan can prove a point that something is not realistic.

They also have a deal that if Shen Yuan is gonna give some especially scathing constructive criticism that Shen Yuan has to wear a cosplay of Airplane's choosing and stay in character for it. It's a good thing that characters that aren't afraid to give a good verbal beatdown are becoming a common occurrence in Airplane's novels.

[lovetei]

Hello! I love your writing! Are the requests open? If yes, could you do the headcanon MC/reader married life with Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon? (these four are my biases) Thank you! 😘💜

Yey!! I'm answering requests again let's go!!

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Married life with them, how does it go?

Versions: Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon

Warnings: Grammar errors, spelling errors, no proofreading, readers gender is not specified

Links: Masterlist, Rules

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LUCIFER

People know you as 'THE SPOUSE' because whenever he's about to blow up, you will be there to stop him

Your relationship is the type where Lucifer will put you to sleep first then secretly wake up to do his work

Then he will be hit by a flying slipper

Then he'll look to his side and saw you sitting up on the bed

Brows twitching out of annoyance and eyebags under your eyes

You HAVE to be fierce at times

Lucifer is known to be under Diavolo's control most of the time, he works for him.

So, there are quiet a few restrictions on his actions.

He could be fucking popping a nerve and will still not be able to fight back because he has to keep up Diavolo's reputation good.

So you do it for him.

One time, someone gave a rude comment to Lucifer

Imagine being rude to Lucifer bruh

And that person was in a quiet important position

So of course, he has to laugh it of like "Ha.Ha.Ha.Ha."

And que MC suddenly clearing her throat giving the most fake laugh while wide eyed staring at the man like "HA HA HA HA HA" with the most fake smile

Yeah

He's the type to ignore murder but draw the line at disrespecting his spouse

And you're the type to look at him while eating and think "Look at my man, ain't no way he's a murderer."

He is.

If Lucifer will SOMEHOW be charged of murder, which he really committed, MC would hold up a large sign outsid the prison, if it hasn't burned yet, with the words "FREE MY MAN"

To be honest, his whole thoughts on you just revolves around "Baby, you're freaky and strange. It's freaking me out." but continues watching and supporting you anyways.

You're just messing with him

Like, let the man have a break

You're the type of spouse to make a jerking hips movement while he's lecturing you tbh

DIAVOLO

So fun

Just shits and giggles

You don't argue, you bashes his head on concrete and he takes like a man with a smile

One time, he saw you struggling with gardening and he went outside to mess with you.

He asked, "Is this guy bothering you?" and pointed at the soil

You looked at him confused but nodded

Then he started punching the soil

He refuses to do extra paperwork now because he believes you're like those dog like

You know

Those dogs that know when their owner is coming home

And he believes that if he doesn't come home on time

You'll start howling like a pug on anesthesia

Yeah

And your vibes to him is like

"You poor thing." (Deregatory) (Sexual)

But you're his dream spouse

When he was a child, he likes those spouse that protects their BIGGER spouse

And he said "I like my spouse scary. Maybe I'll marry someone like them and they'll kill everyone who's ever said a bad thing about me."

He did marry one

You guys are a power couple though

You would attend the parties on matching clothes, especially tailored for the two of you

And he would be smiling like a puppy and you would be beside him glaring at whoever tries to be rude to him

But YOU know that HE knows who's naughty and nice

He'll deal with them when you're asleep

BARBATOS

"Yes, Baby. Your emotional wall is high and impenetrable. Can we kiss now?" — MC

It's just like that

I don't make the rules

Yeah, he's calm and collected

He's so stressed with you, everytime.

You're the menace and he's the leash

After using your magic, you would be leaning sexily on a wall in front of him

Coughing out BLOOD

Saying, "How do I look? Do I look good?" *Cough* "Was that hot?"

It wasn't.

He stands with his canceled spouse

Like

If everyone else is standing in front of his door, bloodied and bruise

He'll open his door IF and ONLY IF you're the one who knocked, or Diavolo

Then he'll open it

Grab you

Close the door

Open it again

Grad Diavolo

And let the rest of them bleed to death

He just loves you so much

Sometimes... ONLY SOMETIMES

When you tripped on the stairs and a lot of people saw it

He'll turn back time

ONLY SOMETIMES

Maybe not so sometimes

And by the way

If he has to move to another timeline

He will marry you

Over and over again

SIMEON

If you think you can bat your eyelashes at him and get whatever you want

Yes

Yes you can

He's so soft for you it's insane

It's so hot how his ring would shine when the slightest bit of life bounces of it

How it's cold metal would hit your skin when he cups your face and kisses you

How he absent mindedly fidget with it when he saw anything that reminded him of you

He's so soft

Like a cushion

Ready to catch you everytime you fall

He's also kind of clingy

But

Yeah, clingy

Everytime he wakes up and you're not there

He let's out the MOST dramatic sigh and think "The world is quiet cruel."

Chill, MC's in the kitchen making you guys food

But if you're indeed not there

He takes his suffering out on his book characters

Sexy evil bad bitch × quiet shy Boi (that can be a psycho)

He's a 10 but he doesn't mind that you're crazy so he's a 20

If you ask him the "What would you do if I turned into a worm?"

He'll answer the softest shit, "I'll build you a worm sanctuary, and take care of you."

Of course, after he said that you'll look up to the sky and thank father for his magic seed or whatever

[alchemistc]

Consider this the emotional sibling of the Eddie Makes It Worse series.

"I have thought about it, you know," Eddie says, and Tommy nearly inhales the straw of his stupidly sweet cocktail. That's what he gets for always accepting the drinks Buck decides a sip in aren't to his taste.

Eddie gives him a hearty slap on the back, and continues before Tommy's done more than wheeze.

"I had to recontextualize like, seven years of my life after Buck met you. After you turned him into an insane person and also somehow a teenage girl with her first crush and no control or understanding of her emotions."

Tommy's too busy trying to stretch the knot out of his neck and breathe through his nose to call him out on gendering his comparisons. In his experience, boys are the ones committing violence for attention. Not the point. So not the point, and he breathed half an ounce of vodka on top of that.

"I'm - sorry, what did you have to think about?"

Tommy absolutely knows what he's talking about. Eddie absolutely knows he knows. It's not quite out of left field, but definitely center field facing a righty before the shift got banned.

"About Buck. Me and Buck. Us and our... thing."

The shock of Eddie being introspective about this enough to be able to articulate it is enough to keep him quiet. He's not a dumb man. Far from it. It's just - in Tommy's experience Eddie tends to avoid looking internally with the same fervor you try to avoid latrine duty.

Eddie's watching him. Waiting for a reaction. They've already done this song and dance, so Tommy's not entirely sure what to do with this. What reaction Eddie's looking for.

"Okay?" Tommy prods, and Eddie rolls his eyes like the diva he is.

"Okay so, I'm saying. I am 100% sure I'm very straight. Because after Buck came out I thought about it."

"What are you saying?" That's his uncontrollably bitchy tone, right there. His eyebrows are probably putting in work. Eddie seems...incredibly nonplussed.

"I'm saying I thought about it."

Tommy rewinds. Considers the context that got them here, at the bar top, gathering a round for the table...Russo, Hen and Karen, Evan... Karen had made some offhand comment about Eddie and Evan that had made Eddie's eyes dart to his like he was looking for signs that Tommy was wearing Nike Zooms.

"Sorry, are you taking this opportunity, in this moment, to tell me you're definitely straight because you fantasized about fucking my boyfriend?"

Two stools down, a woman wearing a pair of neon suspenders and steel toe boots flicks her eyes away from them in the mirror over the bar.

Eddie's eye roll is always a marvel to behold, but this one might take the cake as far as disdainful energy rolling off him like an aura goes.

"Yeah, like you were worried about the physical attraction."

"Are you saying there is physical attraction?" What the fuck. What the fuck. Where the hell is he going with this?

"I'm saying we're each other's next of kin and he's in my will and I may be more subtle about it but I'm just as weird about him as he is about me. It's, like, contagious, man."

Tommy has to give him that point. His insanity levels have increased exponentially since meeting Evan Buckley. Realizing that taking the lid off of that actually made them stronger as a couple had really opened things up.

"I was having a nice night," Tommy says, and tries to wrangle this conversation back into some semblance of order. "What, exactly, are you trying to tell me?" Eddie opens his mouth and Tommy has to stop himself from smacking his hand across his lips to prevent him from speaking. He points a finger, instead. "If you say you thought about it, I swear to Christ, Diaz..."

"I think Buck probably had a crush on me when we first met. You know - pulling the pigtails, desperate to know way too much about me, that kind of thing."

Great. Cool. Tommy's feeling really good about where this is going.

"And I think I fucking desperately needed someone to love me, no strings attached. And Buck - he did that. No question. Almost from the jump."

Tommy downs the rest of the cocktail in one go. Yep. Still as bad as he remembered.

"So. After you guys got together, I... added some context. You weren't the only one who thought he was pissed at me for finding a second friend."

"What was your conclusion, exactly?"

"He's my best friend, Tommy. Family, in a way no one else will ever come close to. If he called and asked if I had a shovel, I'd be researching endangered plant species before we even got off the phone."

Getting Eddie into true crime podcasts was a mistake. "Ride or die, yeah, we all know."

"See, I don't think you do, Tommy. I really don't think you do."

If they could get to the point, already, Tommy might not have to gouge his own eye out with the cocktail straw poking temptingly out of the empty glass in front of him.

"Because as much as I care about him, as much as he cares about me - we'd never be what the other needed. I'm too in my own head all the time. He's - way too needy." Tommy wants to contest this assassination of his boyfriends character, but Eddie seems like he might actually be meandering somewhere near the point. "And, yeah, sure, I did once attempt to figure out if I was attracted to him."

Jesus fucking Christ. They're in a bar. They have an audience, at this point, even if it is just the lesbian couple two stools over and the bartender who's either needs to tap a new keg or learn how to pour without creating a drink that's mostly head.

"My point is the only reason you should be concerned about me is if you ever piss Buck off bad enough for him to need an alibi."

The words come out before he's had time to filter them through his brain. "Did you get off?"

Yeah. The cocktail was mostly vodka, but there's no way in hell he can blame that entirely on alcohol. He'd had a wallowing jack-off or two featuring more than just Evan, in the months he'd drive past Evan's loft hoping for some rain and for Sia to organically pop up on his Spotify station.

Eddie slides a shot of tequila in Tommy's direction. He doesn't remember ordering those. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Edmundo."

"Thomathan."

Tommy takes the shot without bothering to cheers him. He doesn't deserve the time it would take for his mouth to form the "Salute". Hell, he's not even worthy of a "Cin Cin", not with his face doing whatever it's doing right now.

"Tell Buck he's welcome from me," Eddie says, and before Tommy can do much more than blink he's gathering up all but Tommy and Evan's drinks to take them back to their table.

This feels like a mind game. He isn't sure whether he's meant to be grateful, or murderous. Two stools down, Suspenders swivels to stare at him. "You look like you just got slapped in the face with a fish," she says. The bartender eyes him like she might be thinking of pouring him another shot.

"Hi," Evan says, directly into his ear, and Tommy jolts. "Eddie said you were right behind him. Did your arms stop working?"

"Just his brain, honey," Suspenders chimes in. The woman to her left titters into her hand.

"Give it to me straight," Tommy says, and Suspenders snorts into her drink. "Has Eddie told you about his Thinking About It process?"

"Oh, with the trying to picture enjoying me naked?"

Tommy pinches his nose and makes a valiant effort to ignore the hand slapping down on the bar top to his left, the canned attempt at hiding a choked laugh. "Sure. That. Normal best friend things."

"If it makes you feel any better, I think I got even less enjoyment out of it than he did."

Suspenders wheezes.

"You did it together?"

"Gross, Tommy."

"Oh, sure, I'm the one reacting weirdly to this."

"If it makes you feel any better, we were broken up. And the only reason I even thought of it was - you know. Tech- technically your fault. You were the one wining and dining my straight best friend while I was trying to get your attention."

Suspenders girlfriend is having a conveniently timed coughing fit.

"Am I having a stroke?" Tommy asks, but it comes out perfectly coherent, so knock that off the list.

"Do you wanna go home?" Evan has the ability to switch moods on a dime. Tommy's really never seen someone so good at it. "I can settle the tab. I - are you okay? Do you need - water, or - " he's reaching for a stool " - or we can sit."

Tommy's been resistant to being taken care of since he can remember. There's something to the way Evan approaches it - purposeful, the opposite of effortless - that makes Tommy want to crumble like a house of cards. He snags Evan's wrist in his hand. "Evan."

As usual, that's all it takes to still him, for a moment. The cheeks rise, the dimples grow more prominent, his eyes alight on Tommy's like he's seeing something worth looking at.

"I love you. Your best friend is insane and you're half a step behind him, and I love you."

It's not the first time. Thank fuck, that would be a terrible way to drop that bomb. But it's still new enough not to be casual. New enough to make Evan's cheeks burn a rosy pink.

Evan smirks. "You wanna get out of here?"

He'd been enjoying a conversation with Karen, twenty minutes ago, but he doubts he'd be able to form a single coherent thought anymore. The green demon he's kept under wraps for forever now has somehow both gone dormant and is currently trying to convince him to toss Evan over his shoulder and make a break for it.

Tommy makes eye contact with the bartender. Raps his knuckles against the bar top.

Evan's grin goes a little feral.

[deniable-masterpiece]

the note | wally clark x gn!reader

a/n — this was gonna be more smutty but I didn't feel like it should go down that path, so a gender neutral wally fic it is! Christmas themed because Christmas is year-round, and also I love that little Christmas scene in the new episode

warnings — started out as smut but abandoned the smut part, so there's a few comments about hot and sexy you are. is cringe a warning? not proofread

words — 2.1k (surprisingly short for me omg)

summary — Wally writes you a note in a Christmas card about how he really feels.

~~~

“The things I dream about doing to you…”

Wally sighed, placing the Christmas card down on his desk after penciling those words into the top left corner of its inner blank space. His leg bounced, and he looked off to his left to stare out the window, a mix of snow and green covering the expanse of the field outside. Anything to clear his head and focus, but maybe he shouldn’t have taken a seat in a class that you were currently in, painfully unaware of his existence. Telling you would be so much easier. Showing you, even. He wished a long time ago that he could affect the living world; he wished that he could tell someone who he didn’t already overly annoy that he exists and that he’s not gone. He wished for a lot of things, but he was waiting for a miracle on this one.

Mr. Martin suggested this, a way to cope with the uncontrollable: write a note inside of a Christmas card to someone at the school and send it to them. He said it would be the key to accepting that the only lifeline—from the fun they could have to the ways they could express their feelings of grief about their own feelings to even Wally’s favorite pastime, exercising—could only exist within the walls of this school. Wally was the first to accept this challenge, but that was only because he could think easily of writing it about one of the many living people he found hot. The only thing is that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

He used to be so blunt—and still was—but there used to only be one person that could push him to do the opposite of what he wanted. And he was doing this so that he wouldn’t have to think about her, and yet, this Christmas card was taunting him all the regardless of its stupidly thin presence. 

Why did he even bother writing words down when they would just disappear? When the generically empty cards they teachers swiped these off of returned back to one of the drawers in their desk? How long could he keep pretending that this was more than a glorified way of lessening Mr. Martin’s workload?

He picked it up again and started writing, letting his mind flow.

“The things I dream about doing to you, well, if I could dream. If I could dream, it would be all about you, obviously. You would hear me talking in my sleep like that stupid song by The Romantics, and I’d have the biggest boner because you’re so damn sexy.”

Wally paused, thinking about whether or not he should hold himself back. The card wanted that, to keep its crisp, pure inner-white pages free from the filth he scribbled over it. But he was supposed to be raw, real, and he wanted you in a way that could only best be summed up by coming straight from his mind. No filter. 

He continued writing, 

“I think I’m taking this too fast. Obviously, I would say ‘hi’ to you and I would tell you my name instead of keeping it from you until the end of this. I think I’m already saying obviously too much. Obviously, Wally. Right. Let’s get to the totally rad intro where I introduce myself and break your heart when I tell you that I’m a ghost. Hi, I’m Wally Clark. And I’m haunting the halls of this place like Poltergeist but not really because I’m only freaky like that movie in the parts where it matters. The ghost part is true, and the not seeing me part. Could they see the ghosts in Poltergeist? I don’t actually remember. If you could write me back, I’d love to know what you think about it. Don’t tell me everything, though. I don’t want to think about that weird man-eating tree. It was grody. Maybe you’ll like it. I barfed out halfway through.”

Wally cursed at himself for rambling so much, but if you could read this letter, he would want you to know how the whole ghost-thing worked.

“If you could watch it, all you do is have to speak out loud and I would hear you. It sounds creepy, but I would know at least. And hey! I’m telling you what I would do if I dream about you, and now I’m realizing how much space I wasted writing about some dumb movie you’ll never see. We could watch it together? Date night—you and me? Eight p.m., in the gym?”

This wasn’t like passing notes in the 80s, because you would never feel the card between your fingers. You would never crease it with your hands while you hold on tight to it as you cling to every word—Wally hoped you would do that when he got to the stuff that he felt would rock your world, anyway. 

“I guess I should get into it. We do movie nights here, and I always choose the best ones to watch, and I save the couch for us. I think about putting my letterman over you while we watch the movie so you’re sandwiched by me from the back and the front when I pull you onto me, and you lay on me, and sometimes I wish you could take things from the ghost world like we can from your world. Just so you can have it. I think about you fitting into every spot at this school. I think about doing it in every spot of this school. Every time you wear a new outfit, it makes me go feral. When you wear something I’ve seen, I still love it. You’re the hottest when you wear those clothes that reveal skin all over your body, and you play dumb to the teacher that dresses you because you wanted to feel hot that day. You’re hot. You’ve got my desired approval. I think about walking next to you in the hall—I do, you just can’t see it—and holding your hand as you have your five minutes of fame. Strut down the hall, make everyone’s head turn. You deserve to feel that way, and you deserve the punishment I’d give you for being such a skank. For letting everyone see your rocking bod.”

Wally took a beat to breathe and look over at you. You were wearing clothes that made heat travel to his pants—if blood could flow down to there. He envied the way you looked to the teacher and gave him those eyes he wished you were giving him. The eyes you’re currently giving a forty-year-old balding has-been who doesn’t know the privilege he has to see you every day in his class to just ask him to use the bathroom. He watched your backside as he permitted you to use the restroom, and you stood up and left the room. Thank god, Wally would have left the room to slip this card in your locked locker with a pair of wet sweatpants, or left his desk a mess of sticky white. He returned to the card and noticed that the underside of his hand was smeared with grey lead. The whole card had smudges on his already messy writing, but he continued on,

“Okay, fuck. You’re really going to make me say it? I want you, and I can’t have you, and I hate this power you have over me. Not even my own death holds that much weight, and it’s the thing keeping me from you…”

Wally finished off the letter with a few more blunt thoughts. Anything and everything heedless and stupid was carefully spelled out with the last bit of lead in his pencil. He would get up to sharpen it, but the fear of losing these words until he was ready to let him go took ahold of him. These were words he needed to say, even if you could never read them.

He concluded his thoughts with an aggressive signature at the bottom. He wanted to shut the card and imagine like the words had already reset, melted away from the paper like a bad storm had turned the thick stock into indiscernible mush. His heart was on this paper in a string of words that would only ever make sense to him, but Mr. Martin insisted on the next step he was about to take.

Wally left the room with a couple of minutes to spare, yelling a dramatic Goodbye! to you on the way out. He knew the schedule of the bells so well that he didn’t even need to think about it when he left. He had one destination in mind, and the bell had rung by the time he got there. On the first floor of the school, down the hall with all the English classes, was your locker, right near your homeroom. The lockers had a few slats near the top of each of them, and the card was the perfect width to fit and slide right through. Wally held it in his hands for a second, creasing it with his fingers and thinking of all the things that could happen if you just got to see it. Communication, even this bizarre, would be perfect for him. A place to overshare his actual feelings and not the constantly happy, empty-headed jock he always pretended to be. He had real feelings, and only a fraction of them were captured with stationary. It was more than something for you to read; it was the first step on processing his own feelings, to distract himself from thinking of missing his family’s holiday traditions. You helped him with that, unknowingly. And this was something to pay you back with, for being the unwanted object of his attraction.

Wally lifted the card to the horizontal grooves in the locker, pushing it inside. He heard it scrape against the metal and land on the stuff in your locker. There wasn’t much else he could do besides walk away. The note and all of his raw emotion were gone. Knowing the path you usually took, he expected that you would open your locker and find nothing. So, with the new weight off his chest, Wally moved through the hall, filling with students moving to their next class to throw hoops in the gym or convince the other ghosts to make holiday treats with him.

He went down towards the opposite end of the hall from where you would be coming in, putting an unknown distance between you and him as you walked to your locker. Standing exactly where he had been, you started twisting the lock embedded in the blue metal door to get it open. When you did, a Christmas card fell out and landed on the shiny linoleum.

You reached for it, picking it up and opening the card. The words were a bit faded and smudged, looking too messy to be some joke, so you assumed it was written with pure intentions. It looked to fill up the whole card, the letter written inside even going around the “Happy Holidays” wish written in red and green lettering on the right side of the card. Though, you started to question the legitimacy of it as you read further into it. The stuff about your appearance, and how they admired you from afar made you feel seen in a way that other guys at school were too dumb to see express on their faces or with their words. But ghosts? That part had you questioning what was actually real about this letter, and who was using a dead kid as a sick punchline to this joke of a letter. But the end of it what really got you, it being somehow both too cheesy to take seriously but also too specific to not be straight from the heart.

“It’s so hard to watch someone that you can only have in your fantasy. Every day I think about you and do things that would get me in so much trouble if anyone could see it. I think about you in ways that tell me I really love adore you.” The sentence originally used the word ‘love,’ but it had been scribbled out to become almost unreadable and replaced with the word ‘adore.’

Your eyes scanned over the final few sentences, which really stuck out to you. Unbeknownst to you, it was the first time Wally was at a loss for words. He could always offer support, even if he was bad at it. But this was the hardest thing he found himself trying to say.

“I don’t usually notice the living. They’re boring and lame, but you’re different. I dream about us doing the—“ The sentence ended there and picked up again at the start of a new one. “Well, I can’t describe it. The best way to put it would be doing the most. Everything. Anything. My world tilted off its axis, and it was already upside down. I love you.”

At the bottom of the note, it was signed,

“Worlds apart, 

Wally Clark

Class of ’84”

[covenofagatha]

The Psychology of Love (Part 1)

The First Day

Your first class of Personality Psychology with Professor Agatha Harkness awaits

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: very light smut, slowburn, teacher x student

“Can you believe we’re graduating college in the spring?” your best friend and roommate, Wanda Maximoff, asks when you sit down at the table in the dining hall with a plate of toast and a cup of orange juice. 

You shake your head, brain still foggy with sleep, and silently curse yourself for picking the nine AM class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s the first day of your senior fall semester and you already know it’s going to be rough. You really hope this is the kind of class that has optional attendance. 

Wanda is much more of a morning person than you are, with chipper green eyes and a glow to her pale skin. She was more than happy to sign up for all early classes and you wish you had half of her energy. 

“You have Creative Writing at nine and then Gender and Sexuality Studies at ten-fifteen?” you ask. Wanda’s an English major and you sometimes wish you had gone down that route as opposed to Psychology. It’s interesting, of course, but some of the courses you’ve had to take made you want to poke your eyes out with boredom. 

She nods. “What do you have?” 

Shrugging, you pull out your phone to look at your schedule. “Personality Psych at nine,” you say. “Physiological Psych at twelve. I really hope these aren’t bad.” 

“Did you look up the professors? I did—apparently one of mine was fired for making racist comments and then rehired by the university,” Wanda scoffs and your eyes widen. “He apparently sued, it was a whole thing. So I bet that class should be fun.” 

Her sarcasm makes you chuckle and then wince. “No, fuck, I didn’t look,” you say, inwardly kicking yourself. When you had registered for classes, there were only certain times that some of them were offered so you had to work around that. You didn’t get to be picky in your senior year, when you were down to the last few classes you needed to graduate. 

You zoom in on the professor’s name for your first class on the screenshot of your schedule—Agatha Harkness. Typing it into google, you say a silent prayer that she’s an easy-A teacher. 

Clicking on the first website, your face falls when you see that she has a two-point-nine out of five rating, with the average grade being a C. Difficulty level four out of five. Attendance mandatory. You scroll through the reviews and your heart sinks lower with each one. 

Barely any homework, tests are about ninety percent of the grade. 

I made two-hundred flashcards and still failed the final exam. Professor Harkness is a total hardass. 

I didn’t wear my seatbelt while driving to class in the hopes I’d get into a car crash. 

“Jesus,” you mutter. Some of them are a little better, saying that she’s a wicked genius, and that going to office hours will help. One of them says she has some unorthodox ways of teaching psychology and that she picks favorites—but it’s effective. 

You put your phone away, not even bothering to look up any of your other professors. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. 

Wanda gets up to get some eggs and you bite into your cold toast, but you’ve lost your appetite. It’s your senior year and you can’t let your GPA tank this semester—you refuse to let that happen. If it takes going to office hours every day for the week before an exam, or buttering your professor up, you’ll fucking do it. 

“Nat and I heard about a welcome-back rager that one of the sororities is hosting tonight,” Wanda says when she comes back. Natasha is her girlfriend, one of your other best friends. You take all the credit for them getting together. Both of them had confessed that they liked the other to you so you had made a reservation for dinner for the three of you at a restaurant known for its romantic setting and then you had texted them about three minutes before to let them know that you wouldn’t be able to make it. 

Wanda didn’t come back to the dorm that night and when she had stumbled back in the next morning, her neck was covered in hickeys. 

Your nose wrinkles. “A sorority?” Not that you have anything against them, you just imagine their parties being very guy-infested. 

She laughs and rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not what you’re thinking. They’re all invite-only and this is a queer sorority.” 

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds fun then.”

“Maybe you can get some action,” Wanda smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

Snorting, you take a long sip of orange juice to delay answering. Your love life has been complicated to say the least. Your first serious relationship was in freshman year of college, when a girl who had lived across the hall from you asked you out and no one had told you that it was a bad idea to date someone who lives that close to you. She was clingy and immature and you weren’t convinced that she actually cared about you—more just the idea of you. 

And you felt more from just a few compliments from women twice your age than you did the entire time with her. 

Looking back on it now, the whole thing was a bit of a mistake but you had gotten some experience from it and thankfully you had moved dorm buildings and hadn’t seen her again since. 

There had been some hookups in the past two years—drunk calls and makeouts in the bathroom at parties—but no one had caught your eye. 

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you say evasively. It just felt like something was constantly missing. You hadn’t opened up to Wanda or Nat about it, but you secretly longed for what the two of them had with each other. “It’s tonight?” 

Wanda hums. “At nine. So Nat will come over around then and we can pregame and then head over? Can’t be too early.” 

You shake your head at how egregious it would be before laughing. Natasha plops down next to Wanda, out of breath, before kissing her girlfriend on the cheek. They giggle to each other and you push your chair back. 

“I should probably get going. I can only imagine what my professor would do if I’m late,” you say. 

One of your general psych professors taught you that there’s only one type of person who goes out of their way to do a survey or write a review: someone who feels incredibly strongly about it. For each person who wrote a bad review about Professor Harkness, there’s surely five people who did just fine in the class with no complaints. That makes you feel a little better and you smile at your friends before trekking across campus. 

Her classroom is in the Psychology building, which is possibly the furthest one from the dining hall, and by the time you get there and walk up the flight of stairs, your calves are burning and you have to make an effort to control your heavy breathing. 

But you have five minutes to spare and the room is empty, so you lean against the wall next to the door on your phone. You’re already getting notifications of assignments for this week—why do you have five things to do for one class? A ball of stress starts to coil in your stomach. 

“Nervous habit?” someone asks, and it takes you a moment to realize that they’re talking to you. You look up, surprised, and find an older woman, maybe late forties, with curly dark hair that’s tossed over her shoulders, dark blue eyes that pierce into yours, and large, black glasses resting on her nose. She’s wearing a navy dress with a black blazer and smart brown shoes. Her eyebrow is posed expectantly and you realize that you’ve been chewing on your thumb nail. 

You clear your throat and straighten up, a feeling that you can’t quite name growing inside you. “Sorry?” 

Her lips slowly stretch into a smile and you catch a whiff of her perfume—a unique blend of warm vanilla with a dark coffee and something extra that adds a little spice. “Are you here for class?” she asks. 

“Yeah, um, Personality Psych,” you answer, feeling like you’re missing out on something. She looks absolutely delighted and steps to the side of you to open the door to the classroom. The pieces slowly click into place and your mouth drops open. “You—you’re Professor Harkness?”

She smirks. “Not who you were expecting?” 

She is not who you were expecting at all. The reviews made it sound like she was a mean crone deriving pleasure from failing students left and right. Not an attractive older woman.

You swallow roughly. 

Professor Harkness tilts her head to the side and you brush past her into the classroom, muttering a “Not really,” her scent lingering in your nostrils. It’s a small room and you sit at a desk in the second row on the left side, where the lectern is. You’ve found that it’s easier to focus when you’re close to the teacher. 

More students trickle in and sit behind you or to the side of you. No one takes the desk in front of you, though, so when Professor Harkness sweeps through the aisles of chairs and stops at the front, you’re in her direct line of sight. Her eyes twinkle when they land on you and you squirm.

“Welcome to Personality Psychology,” she announces at nine on the dot. “I am Professor Agatha Harkness. I have a PhD in clinical and behavior psychology. I’m sure many of you have heard or read that this class is difficult.” 

Out of your peripheral vision, you see some people nodding and nervously chuckling. 

She slams a hand down on the surface of the lectern, making everyone jump. “They are correct. But, let me tell you something. A lot of the students that take this class think it will be easy. They hear ‘Freud’ and they think ‘Oedipus Complex’. They hear ‘biological approach’ and they think ‘nature versus nurture’. Of course we will cover that—but we will also go very deep into what each theory pertains and includes. People fail because they think there’s too much information so they give up. What’s the solution?Try.” 

You wonder if she saw the review from the person that said they made two-hundred flashcards and still failed. 

Agatha moves to the desk next to the lectern to log into the computer. Quiet chatter fills the room, people introducing themselves to each other, but you dig in your bag and pull out a notepad and a pen. Your psych teacher in high school taught you that writing down information helps your brain retain it better than typing, so you’ve grown accustomed to taking notes by hand. 

She presses a button and the screen at the front of the classroom turns on and projects the syllabus. Agatha quickly goes through it, making note of the three exams and two research presentations that are scattered throughout the semester, and someone raises their hand. 

“So we only have five grades?” he asks, a nervous tremor in his voice. You’re right there with him—it will be very hard to bring your grade back up if you do bad on a test. 

Agatha stares him down. “If you do well on each one, you won’t need more than that.” The boy stammers but she moves on, telling everyone that attendance is indeed mandatory and that she won’t be posting the slides for notes online. You inwardly groan, hoping that your fear of failure will outweigh your lack of motivation. 

When she closes the tab with the syllabus, you hear rustling behind you and you turn slightly to see a girl packing up. A quick check of your watch shows that there’s still thirty minutes left.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Agatha says. “Did I dismiss the class?” 

The girl freezes before slinking back into her seat. “No, sorry, I just thought—” 

Agatha laughs humorlessly and you flinch. “Well, you are dismissed. We’ll see you on Wednesday unless you drop the class first.” The girl’s mouth drops open, eyes glassy, but she holds her head high as she walks out of the door.  

If you were her, you’re not sure you’d be able to come back. 

“Alright, let’s get into it,” Agatha says, clicking on a new tab and opening a slideshow. There’s a quiet ugh among everyone—of course she’s making you take notes on the first day. “What is personality?” 

No one moves an inch, no one says a word. 

She scoffs and stands up, perusing the room. You’re sure everyone is doing the exact same thing as you—looking anywhere but the professor. Raising your hand to your mouth and biting your fingernails, you feel her eyes on you and you reluctantly meet her gaze. 

“It’s the way you think and behave?” you offer and she smiles pleasantly. A feeling of warmth spreads through you at the validation. 

She clicks to the next slide. “Very good. The definition I want you to know is that personality is first and foremost a construct. It’s an idea that we created. It’s a person’s overall, individual pattern of behaviors, emotions and thoughts. There are five basic approaches to how we can look at personality.” 

You furiously scribble that down. You’re one of the only people who’s writing notes and she thankfully waits for you to look up before continuing. 

“We have the Trait approach, the Biological approach, the Psychoanalytical approach, the Phenomenological approach, and the Behavioral approach. I’m sure some of you are familiar with most of these, but over the semester, we’re going to really dive into how each of these approaches views personality and what they think is the basis for it. There are a lot of different ways to assess personality, some a lot more legitimate methods than others.”

Someone raises their hand and Agatha nods at them. “The Trait approach is where we look at the Big Five personality test, right?” 

Agatha sighs and clicks to the next slide. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to in an attempt to appear smart. It doesn’t work.” You stifle a laugh—she sees and winks at you and your cheeks flush. 

She continues talking a bit, giving you a bit of information about each one, before telling everyone to take out a piece of paper. 

“Draw a picture of a house and your family, whatever it looks like to you,” Agatha instructs. She sets a timer for five minutes while she walks around and glances at people’s work. 

When she gets to you, her perfume invades your nostrils as she bends over your shoulder. You can feel her hair brush your back. She hums in your ear and your stomach heats up. 

“This is an example of a projection test. You can tell a lot about a person based on how they drew the things,” she says, sitting back at her desk. “How intricate they draw the house. If it looks like the place they grew up in. Where they put themselves compared to the rest of the family. Who is even included in the family. I’m not going to collect these, but if you do want me to take a look at them so you can judge for yourself how accurate it is, stay after class. If not, then you may go and I’ll see everyone on Wednesday.” 

You’re the only person who doesn’t immediately rush out the door and you slowly make your way up to her, paper in hand. Her eyes flick to yours and she smirks, like she knew she could count on you. 

She holds out her hand and you give her your drawing. The lines on her forehead crease and she nods, analyzing it. You shift and scratch your head and resist the urge to bite your nails because of her comment earlier. 

Agatha puts the paper down on the desk, faced towards you. “The house isn’t detailed—just a square with a door and four windows and a triangle as the roof. Maybe you’re just not an artist, or maybe you never really considered any place home.” 

It feels like all the air gets sucked out of your lungs. 

“There’s space between you and these people,” she points to you and then to your mom, brother, and father, “but there’s also space between your parents. Or that’s who I’m guessing they are.” 

You nod. 

“It seems like you don’t feel very connected to them, or to your home. Maybe their home specifically?” She looks up at you, lips quirked up. “So, projective tests—total nonsense?” 

Chuckling shakily, you meet her eyes. “Total,” you joke. 

Agatha leans back in her chair and studies you. “What made you want to study psychology?” 

“Oh, well, I don’t know,” you say lamely, shifting your weight from one foot to another. “I guess I just like knowing how people think. What about you?” 

There’s a dark glint in her eyes. “Understanding people, the way they think—” she gestures to you in agreement with your answer, “—it gives you power over them. You know how to get inside their head, you know how to get what you want.” 

The air seems to thicken around you two and her perfume makes you dizzy. “What do you want?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. Her eyebrow twitches up. 

“Right now, I want a coffee,” she asserts, standing up and handing you back your paper. Whatever spell, whether real or imagined on your end, is broken and Agatha smiles. “I’ll see you Wednesday?” 

The unspoken question is if you’re going to drop the class, if you’re scared off by her demeanor. You meet her gaze firmly. “I’ll see you then.” 

“Have a good rest of the day, y/n,” she says, walking past you and out the door, and you stand there, agape, realizing that you never told her your name.  ~~~

“I’m Natasha Romanoff! I’m friends with Stacy,” Nat yells over the pumping music from inside the sorority. The girl at the door nods and moves to the side to let you, Nat, and Wanda into the house. 

The lights are a deep blue and you see people in the corners doing shots and playing beer pong, there’s girls making out in the middle of the floor, guys outside in the pool. You turn to say something to your friends, but they’ve already gone off somewhere else and left you standing there alone. 

So you go and fill a cup up with beer from the keg and take in the scene, perfectly content to just be a wallflower for the night. You’re not even really sure why you came, but you had nothing else to do and now the drinks you had earlier are settling pleasantly in your stomach, making your veins buzz and your head float.

“Hey!” someone says loudly and you look to the side to find a girl with dark hair and blue eyes standing there. “You look lonely.” 

You laugh and take another sip. “My friends left me. They’re probably hooking up in a bedroom right now.” 

She leans in closer and you find yourself mirroring her. “Do you want to go look in the bedrooms and see if we can find them?” 

“What? Why would I—” She raises an eyebrow and it clicks. “Wait, are you hitting on me?” She nods and you down the rest of your drink. You’re about to apologize and walk away when you inhale and smell something. 

Vanilla, coffee, and a hint of something else. 

There’s a flicker of heat in your stomach and you reach out a hand to cup her cheek, bringing her closer to you. 

It’s her. You can’t explain it, but energy thrums under your skin and you pull her mouth to yours. The scent fills your nose and your mouth and you moan. She pushes you against the wall and you don’t even know her name but you don’t care. 

Your tongue licks into her mouth and she whimpers, hands frantically sliding down your body and around your waist. You’ve never done anything like this before, never this reckless, but there’s something about her that is driving you crazy. 

Her fingers fiddle with the button on your jean shorts before sliding in, her smell the only thing you can focus on and it hits you. 

It’s the same perfume as Agatha was wearing in class. 

You should stop because it’s so fucked up but you’re too wet now to just walk away so you wrap your arms around her to bring her closer. 

And when she slides a finger into you, in a hallway in a sorority house amidst fifty other undergraduates, your professor is all you can think about.

Part Two

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1

[violet-embers]

The first time I saw a trans woman was in porn. I was pretty young then, in early middle school I think. My first thoughts about trans women only existed in a sexual context, since that was the only place I saw us mentioned

The next time I saw trans people mentioned was a TV show presumably about trans people and transitioning. I didn't watch it, only saw the description because even as a kid I had already internalized the idea that it was taboo and I would get in trouble if my parents walked in and I was watching it

Eventually I saw enough TV and cop shows to see an episode with the dead trans hooker trope. It further reinforced the building idea that trans women were something else, separate from "normal" people and always on the outskirts of society

And then Caitlyn Jenner came out. At my Catholic middle school there were few kind things said about her and plenty of nasty comments, but this was the first time I saw trans people being publicly talked about

In high school my views on trans people started to fracture. On one hand, I was being pushed the idea that gender was about what's in your pants, that if you've got a dick your a man and there's nothing that can be done about it. On the other hand, early high school me had stumbled across some gender change erotica and quickly became obsessed with it. While it wasn't great representation, it was still pretty positive about transitioning. The people in those stories were always happier afterwards

I struggled to reconcile what parts of society were saying about trans people with my daydreaming about what I'd do if I woke up the next morning as a girl. Eventually I decided that it was just a fetish. I just thought it was hot, there was no way I could be trans because I was just a normal person. I wasn't weird or a spectacle for others to gawk at, I was just a person

Around that time I also met a trans person in passing for the first time. One of the trans guys at my high school was in one of the musicals that I went to because some of my friends were also in them. When I was talking to my friends about it after someone mentioned the trans guy and that he was trans. I wasn't really sure what to think so I kinda just didn't think about it. Thinking back, there were a few trans guys at my high school but I don't think there was a single out trans woman

Eventually in college I actually met some trans and nonbinary people. In some classes we introduced ourselves on the first day with names and pronouns which was my first exposure to people using pronouns other than just he/him and she/her. I had a few classes with trans and nonbinary people, including a survey of transgender studies class I took in my last semester. I had plenty of excuses for why I was taking it (I needed a few more credits to graduate. It still had room open. It fit with my other classes. It seemed interesting. I'm trying to be a good ally.)

Around this time as well I found some trans creators online like ContraPoints and Philosophy Tube (whom I had watched before she came out as trans). I was weirdly excited and interested when Odyssey Eurobeat came out as trans and I went to go listen to some of her music right after I heard. I was starting to have examples of trans people just being people. Not just porn stars or public spectacles, but people

Later I met and befriended a few trans women, one of whom was extremely open about her transness and happened to share a video which started the initial steps of my egg cracking and figuring out who I am now

If I had actually known any trans women, if the world had been kinder to trans people, if representation of trans women as people existed and was well known, I might have been able to realize who I was sooner. I would have been able to exist as myself for more than a tiny fragment of my life so far

Representation matters, both in media and in daily life. Trans people being out and open about who they are made it possible for me to realize that about myself. Please never stop being who you are

[inazumass]

Animal Attraction - Laios x Beastman!Reader

No beta read this time, but I might add other chapters of this for f/m/ftm reader in the future on AO3 if there's enough interest for it. I try to make my smut as inclusive as possible but sometimes it takes away from the descriptors, y'know? Let me know what you think! https://archiveofourown.org/works/56591389

TAGS/Warnings: NSFW, Smut with Plot, Gender Neutral Reader, No Use of Y/N, Mild Themes of Forced Proximity/One Bed Trope (Kinda), Huddle For Warmth, Penetration, Gender Neutral Anatomy, Second Person Perspective/Freeform, Beastman/Beastkin Reader/Doglike Reader, Comfort, No Pet Names, Enthusiastic Consent, No use of protection don't be like Chilchuck, y'all

Word Count: 11.9k

As always, Minors DNI

Shadows stretched long across the wooden floor of the old bedroom where Laios sat in his bed for the night. This floor was quiet now but if anyone paused to listen they would be able to hear all the creatures off in the distance as they stalked their way through the dungeon. Their various calls and cries echoed off the far away walls of the vast cavern surrounding the ruins. 

It was cool here now, the crisp night air swirling through the alleyways and rustling the curtains. If it weren’t for the view out the window of the ruined structures littering the cave the old town was situated in, it might have been easy for anyone to convince themselves that they were in any regular old inn on the surface. 

There were few usable rooms left in the building now though, and the party had to make do with the last three decent rooms on the third floor. Not that anyone seemed to mind much… hell, most were grateful for a proper bed to sleep on for the first time in days. 

Down the hall Laios could hear the sounds of his party mates getting settled in for the night, their muffled speech unintelligible through the thick stone walls. He had settled into his bed, unfurling his bedroll over the old linen sheets as he stole glances at the newest member of their ragtag group.

He tried hard not to stare, but his gaze kept flickering up to the soft ears perched atop your head.

By now he’d known well enough not to question Izutsumi on her state after much scolding from the others and the sharp sting of her claws whenever she would get fed up with his pestering. Yet you were so vastly different in comparison to the sharper features of the party’s youngest member; your sharper more wolf-like features juxtaposed with the softer body of a human, the perfect fusion of man and beast. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like… he’d always fantasised, albeit not so secretly about what it might be like to have more animalistic features, were you more monster or more human? His thoughts were cut off quickly when your eyes flicked over to him, feeling his eyes on your back. Your ears flicked in mild annoyance, not exactly fond of the intrusive gaze.

“What are you staring at?” You sighed, all too used to the way people would size you up. The questions, the fear, the judgement.

“Your ears look so soft.” The blond smiled sheepishly as the words slipped out of his mouth without much thought. 

The sincerity of his gaze caught you by surprise, unsure how to respond as you stared back at him. You blinked slowly, momentarily thrown off by his unexpected offhand comment. He seemed genuine, his eyes holding a warmth that contrasted sharply with the usual wariness you encountered from other tallmen. After a beat of silence, you couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"They're just ears," You replied, your tone light but tinged with a hint of amusement as your ears perked back up, "But thanks, I guess?"

He chuckled softly in return, a sheepish grin still playing on his lips. "Sorry, that was probably a weird thing to say, huh?" Laios asked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked down at his lap.

"It's... different," you admitted, offering him a nonchalant shrug. "But different can be nice.” You said finally, earning another smile from the tallman.

His sheepish grin widened into a relieved smile at your response, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he let out a quiet sigh. "I'm glad you think so," Laios replied, amber eyes still avoiding your gaze. He knew if he looked back up he wouldn’t be able to resist staring a little longer. "I didn't mean to make things awkward."

You shook your head, offering him a reassuring smile of your own. "No need to worry about it. It's refreshing, honestly." You replied, sitting back against the old wooden headboard. Perhaps you had been wary of him for no reason, though you hadn’t fully dropped your defences around the group despite your curiosity about the knight. They had all been gracious enough to take you in when you were too injured to carry on alone.

You were certain if they hadn’t wandered by when they did you would have been doomed on your own. Now, you thought, you would be forever indebted to them for their kindness. That being said, you couldn’t help but feel out of place regardless of their continued kindness.

 “I’m sorry... I guess I was just expecting you to say something else.” You admitted. A sigh pushed past your lips as you hugged your knees, uneasy at even the smallest bit of vulnerability you’d shown him with your vague explanation.

Though he wasn’t the best at reading the emotions of others, he could see the way you curled in on yourself as if protecting something, your ears drooping against your head. It reminded him of the strays he would see back home, wounded, exposed…

His voice was gentle as he spoke, his gaze lifting to look you in the eyes as he searched for the right words. “I’ve heard stories of beastmen before… but you and Izutsumi are way cooler than any of them.” Laios affirmed, earning a little snort of laughter from you. “Seriously! Half tallman and half wolf, that’s… incredible!” He exclaimed.

You wanted to disagree, but something about the way his eyes lit up when he spoke had you believing it too. After all, no ordinary tallman could do what you could. Even so, you found yourself shifting in discomfort under his gaze. You had always been acutely aware of the implications of your existence, created from black magic… an abomination, a monster. 

Even now that you’d finally met someone like you, someone who couldn’t shift the way others in similar circumstances could, she was nothing like you. Though you suspected Izutsumi more than tolerated you from the way she would curl up between you and Marcille when she slept... half the time she complained that you reeked of dog smell, that you were noisy, and so on. You were nowhere near as agile as she was. Your form held little to be proud of; sharp teeth and claws, patches of fur scattered across your body. Both on the surface and deep within the dungeons black magic and all of its creations were things to be feared, reviled.

"Most people see me as a monster," you admitted bitterly, looking away from him as you hugged your knees a little tighter.

Laios’ brow furrowed slightly as he watched you retreat back into your shell. A monster? He wasn’t entirely certain what had compelled him to say what he said next, but the words came out regardless. “So what?” He frowned, his tone capturing your attention once more even if it was mostly due to the shock of hearing him speak like that. “Who cares what anyone else thinks?"  

The question was rhetorical and you knew that, yet you opened your mouth to speak anyways. The protests died on your lips before they could form entirely as he cut you off. “Their misconceptions about you aren’t going to change who you are.” The knight said firmly as he looked deep into your eyes, the intimacy of his earnest gaze causing you to look away again. 

Laios’ words echoed in your mind, resonating with a quiet strength that you couldn't ignore. You were silent for a long moment. Something about the way he spoke so confidently on the matter had you suspicious that he’d had to tell himself the same thing once or twice. "You're right," you replied, a newfound resolve coursing through your veins as you felt that unfamiliar spark of understanding for the first time in years. "Who cares what anyone else thinks?" You repeated.

For too long, you’d allowed the judgement and scorn of others to dictate your actions, to shape your perception of yourself. While it would take time to internalise it properly and truly digest the sentiment behind his words of encouragement, you felt a bit more steady for the time being. For now you would forge your own path alongside his party.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting the knight's gaze with a grateful smile. 

“Of course.” He replied, laying back against his bed roll and looking up at the ceiling. He was torn now, frustration and mild jealousy gnashing their ugly teeth and gnawing at the back of his mind. Jealousy because he’d always dreamt of what it might be like to be a werewolf or something of the sort, frustration because others couldn’t see how amazing you and the other beastmen truly were beyond your respective abilities in the arenas. Questions swirled in his mind and died in his throat, even Laios knew that now wasn’t the time to ask. Beastman status aside, it irked him that you’d been made to feel that way about yourself.

You had laid down on your own bed before stealing another glance at him. Even in the faint glow that illuminated the room you could see the way his brow furrowed as he stared up at the vaulted ceiling, the mild tension in his jaw. 

“You look like you have something else to say.” 

He hesitated, his words caught in his throat… You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him and whatever he seemed to be wrestling with in that moment. Despite the barriers that separated you… you shared a common struggle, not just on this mission but in life as a whole. You understood that now.

Laios hesitated, uncertain of how his thoughts would be received. "I do," he admitted. "But it's... complicated."

“Try me,” you replied, rolling over so you could face him properly.

Laios hesitated again, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling as he weighed the words in his mind. Even in the short few days you’d been with the group he knew you well enough to know that you deserved to hear what he said next.  "It's just... sometimes I can't help but feel a little... envious," he admitted, self-consciousness flooding into his senses as he spoke the words aloud. A part of him expected you to snap at him for saying something like that after he heard the way his words hung in the open air.

You didn't though, instead you just cocked your head slightly, curiosity piqued by his confession. "Envious? Of what?" He couldn't have meant what you thought he did. You were cursed. Even with the enhanced senses, your strength, your speed… the weight of the isolation had always felt heavier.

A faint blush coloured Laios' cheeks as he met your gaze, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Of you, actually," he confessed, his tone laced with a mix of admiration and embarrassment. "I mean, you're so... unique. You’ve got the best of both traits, you’re strong, you’re fast… you’re a skilled strategist, your sense of smell is unparalleled and… I can always tell when you’re happy because your tail wags even when you’re trying to be serious.” He looked back up and away from you once again as he realised he couldn’t stop the words from spilling past his lips, scratching the itch in his brain. 

“I know it’s only reasonable for people to be wary of the unfamiliar, it’s in our nature to want to keep ourselves safe from something that could be perceived as a threat. It’s the one thing we living creatures all have in common. But it’s just frustrating, because…”  Because you’re like me. Laios wanted to stop himself from saying what came out next, but he couldn’t help it. "...because sometimes it feels like no matter what we do, no matter how hard we try, we'll always be seen as outsiders," There was a resigned look on his face now, despite the bitterness of the frustration replacing his usual upbeat tone. "Like we're destined to be misunderstood, judged solely by the circumstances of our existence."

You swallowed hard, looking back up at the ceiling with him as his rant struck something within you. His words stung with that all too familiar ache of rejection. There was another beat of silence that passed between the two of you as the weight of his sentiment settled in.

“I know what you mean,” You replied, voice barely above a whisper. This time it was your turn to snap him out of it. “But you know what? Despite it all, we're still here. And that counts for something, doesn't it?"

He didn’t seem convinced, but you could see the way the tension started to leave his body when he finally rolled over to face you from across the room. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Laios replied, the ghost of a halfhearted smile on his pink lips. 

The two of you looked at each other in silence for a long moment, a silent understanding passing between the two of you in the night. It had been a long time since you’d had the liberty to have a conversation like this. Open, honest, vulnerable under the cover of the night, tucked away somewhere quiet...

“Thank you,” you couldn’t help but say it again, something about the heavy conversation seemed to lighten the invisible load on your shoulders. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had a conversation like this.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he gave a slight bob of his head in agreement. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's nice to just... talk."

As the conversation continued to flow between you, the initial tension that had hung in the air slowly dissipated, replaced by a growing sense of ease and comfort. Though you both knew that you should have been sleeping, found yourself drawn to his company, his honesty and blunt nature was refreshing. As the evening wore on, bathed in the gentle glow of the flickering candles and soft hum of conversation, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having met the tallman.

You could feel the gentle caress of the breeze as it snuck through the open window, teasing the flames of the candles and sending shadows dancing across the stone walls of the old room. The soft light illuminated the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that seemed to envelop you both in its soothing embrace.

Neither of you were certain when you’d drifted off to sleep, the orange glow of the candles having been extinguished long before you’d woken up again. 

As your eyes fluttered open they struggled momentarily to adjust to the darkness surrounding your bed. With the old shutters closed and the candles extinguished it was near impossible to see at first but as your eyes adjusted your enhanced night vision came in handy. All was silent inside now, the rest of your party mates likely fast asleep… the only sounds were the frenzied rushing of the wind against the building and Laios’ light snores in the bed across from you. Even beneath the cover of your sleeping bag, you could feel the cold seeping into your bones. The tufts of fur that littered your body seemed to stand on end in the darkness, prominent goosebumps prickling across your skin 

Something was off, it was colder now. Too cold. You reached out across the gap between your beds, gently shaking Laios's shoulder. His skin was cool to the touch and you couldn’t help but notice the way he was shivering in his sleep. 

“Laios,” you whispered urgently, “wake up.” 

He stirred, breathing slow and heavy. He let out a soft groan as he blinked his eyes open, mirroring your earlier struggle to adjust to the darkness in the room now as his amber eyes searched for you in the blackness. '”What’s going on?” he murmured.

“It’s freezing… something’s wrong.” You explained, tugging your sleeping bag closer around you as if to further prove your point.

“It’s probably just the dungeon’s terrain shifting again,” he replied calmly, rubbing his eyes while his body settled back into consciousness.

A shiver rippled through his body as the chill settled in. This isn’t good, he thought to himself, trying to calculate the situation at hand through the fog of his lingering sleep. Each of the rooms had shuttered windows, so it was likely that the others were fine as well. Considering the rushing sound of the air currents outside it would be safe to assume that there was a significant risk for frostbite out there if left exposed. Staying inside the abandoned structure was certainly the better alternative… but without some sort of external heat source your muscles would easily become stiff and painful at this temperature before long. 

Laios huffed, his breath just barely visible in the dark. So that was it then. He glanced back over to you then, watching as you struggled to properly cocoon yourself in your sleeping bag to stave off the cold for just a little longer.

“We’ll be alright,” He said tenderly with a reassuring smile.

“I’m freezing, and you’re still shivering.” You groaned, clenching your jaw as you tried to keep your teeth from chattering.

He swallowed hard, weighing his options in his mind once more as he considered what he was about to say before he took a deep breath. “We should probably huddle together for warmth then.” Laios said solemnly. In an attempt to calm his racing heart he continued quickly: “Shivering all night in our sleep won’t help with the fatigue, right now our muscles are expanding and contracting really fast to try and generate warmth to compensate for the-”

“Okay,” you interrupted, too tired to keep up with his fast paced facts. 

As you swung your legs off the side of your bed he hesitated before sliding over to make room for you, watching in mild amusement as you shuffled your way across the gap in your sleeping bag before flopping down next to him in the bed. For once he was at a loss for words, not expecting you to take the opportunity so quickly, though he supposed it made sense. Even though you looked more human than beast, he supposed wolves were pack animals, used to close proximity with other members of their pack. Although- he interrupted himself in his mind, that would be dependent upon the particular species of wolf you’d been - his thoughts were quickly interrupted by the groaning of the old wood frame supporting your bodies as it creaked in protest against the added weight before settling again.

This was better, his warmth next to you helping to warm you ever so slightly, but you could still feel the sting of the cold as you laid next to him in your sleeping bag, struggling to get comfortable. Laios found himself hesitating again, although he couldn’t place exactly why. It wasn’t as if he’d never slept in close proximity to someone else. Hell, on this journey alone he’d spent countless nights sandwiched between other members of his party as they slept. 

You didn’t seem to have a problem with it as you squeezed in next to him, but he could still see the way you shivered as you tried to get settled.

“It would, uh… probably be more effective if we combined our body heat.” He muttered, swallowing the lump in his throat once more as he looked away from you. 

Silence stretched out between you for what felt like forever as he felt the familiar claws of self doubt scraping at the back of his mind. He was thankful when you finally put him out of his misery, shooting him an awkward little smile as you spoke: “Yeah, that makes sense… I’m alright with it if you are.”

He nodded firmly, still avoiding your gaze as he helped you get tucked in beneath his sleeping bag. If you noticed the shift in his energy, you didn’t show it as you cuddled up next to him, pressing your back into his side beneath the covers. Laios tried to remain calm as he laid your now empty sleeping bag overtop of his, adding extra insulation for the both of you. The wind whistled outside, the shutters stirring as cold seeped its way in through the cracks in the wood. You were grateful now for the additional heat, it sounded like the storm outside was picking up. 

The tallman let out a sigh, his breath a cloud of fog as he listened to the intensity of the wind outside. He sat up to tuck the edges of the sleeping bag beneath the two of you, ensuring that the cold couldn’t slither in between the two of you. He glanced over at you then in the dark, your soft features just barely visible in the dim light leaking in from the slits in the shutters. A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched your ears twitch against the pillow. You looked so comfortable, cute even. 

He pushed the thought aside as he laid back down beside you, his arm resting on the pillow above your head as he attempted to give you a little bit of space.

“I’m glad we found this place,” He commented, his voice a soft murmur above the sound of the rushing wind outside. Despite the chill, the room was calm in comparison to the storm outside. “We’re lucky we didn’t get caught out in that.”

“Mhm…” You hummed in response, already close to falling asleep as you nuzzled against his arm with a sigh.

Laios’ cheeks turned a deeper shade of red beneath the cover of darkness. He could already feel his heart rate picking up again and something about the way he couldn't take his eyes off you suggested it was due to much more than the cold. Here he could feel the way the soft fur of your ears tickled his arm, your bushy tail laid comfortably across his hips. It took every ounce of willpower in his body not to reach out and stroke the soft fur there, wanting to know exactly how the sleek fluff would feel against the roughened skin of his palms. He watched for a moment as your breathing slowed and evened out, realising it would probably be weird of him to watch you sleep. 

So instead he shut his eyes and tried to will his body to follow suit, to relax his stiffened muscles and calm the steady hammering in his chest. You grumbled softly as he tried to pull his arm away to readjust, gripping his forearm lightly as you pulled it back beneath your head. He winced internally. He was trapped now, he didn’t want to fall asleep on his back but would it be weird if he slept facing you? 

It would probably do a better job of keeping you both warm, sure, but why was it so difficult to just go ahead and roll over? His limbs felt heavy, would it be weird if he put his arm around you? If someone walked in would it cause some kind of misunderstanding? He wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with a lecture from Chilchuck on the importance of professionalism in the workplace. 

He lost himself in his thoughts again until he felt another shiver run down across your body. Poor thing, he thought, how were you still cold? He felt like he was burning up but if the cheek pressed against his arm was any indication of your overall body temperature you were still freezing. 

With a sigh he gave in and wrapped his other arm around your waist, maintaining a respectful distance from any of the more intimate areas of your body. 

You relaxed instantly into the touch, pressing back against him and pulling his arms a little closer as you seeked out the warmth. He tried hard not to look at you then, honey coloured eyes searching the ceiling in the darkness once again before he ultimately gave up and tried to close them once again.

It took some time for him to finally settle down enough to start falling asleep again, only to be interrupted by the way your tail started to wag in your sleep. At first he thought it was cute, wondering about what kind of dream you must have been having at that moment. It had to be something good. He’d always wondered what it was his childhood dogs had dreamed about when he caught their tails thumping against the ground where they slept. Briefly, he wondered if it would be rude to ask you in the morning. That was, until you shifted slightly in your sleep and it started to brush against him instead of the bed.

Laios sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth as your appendage brushed against the front of his trousers. He tried to shift his hips away from you only to earn a little groan of protest as he tried to move.

“H-hey, careful where you’re moving that.” He whispered, shakily. 

It was almost shameful how quickly that little motion had him worked up. Having spent so long traversing the dungeon with multiple people in close proximity to monsters… it wasn’t like he had a lot of time to himself. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he tried to squirm away, only for you to grumble and push back against him in your sleep, tail still swishing lightly against his hips. If you didn’t stop soon he might blow a gasket trying to explain the growing bulge pressing into the soft fat of your ass if you woke up, or die of embarrassment, whichever came first.

“C-cut it out.” He hissed, the arm around your waist shifting so he could grip the base of your tail and stop it from rubbing against him further.

The pressure earned a low moan from you in your sleep and he immediately tensed up and froze.

“Ngh… Laios?” You muttered, voice husky with exhaustion as you came to once again.

Shit. His heart leaped in his chest as you began to stir. By now he could hear the rush of his heartbeat hammering away in his chest like the steady beat of a drum. He released his grip on the tail, too embarrassed now to fawn over how soft the fur was there. 

“Y-Yeah, I’m still here” He whispered, his throat dry as he let out another quivering breath. He stayed still then, trying to will you to go back to sleep with his mind so he could turn away and continue to ignore his growing problem in peace.

“What’s wrong?” You mumbled groggily. Even in your half-asleep state, you caught the tremor in his voice. Though you sensed no immediate danger, the wobble in his tone set you on edge. Turning to face him, you inadvertently brushed against him once more.

The moment the soft fur brushed against him again, he couldn't help but twitch as another wave of heat surged through his body. It was all too much, the close proximity and now your warm breaths fanning across his chest, it was too intense. His eyes searched the room in the darkness, avoiding your gaze as he searched for any sort of distraction to calm himself down before you noticed. Sure, it was a natural biological reaction to external stimuli but no amount of logic could spare him the shame that washed over him as he wondered what you might think of him. Your voice ripped him from his spiral once more as you repeated his name. 

Those two syllables had no right to get him as worked up as they did. Your tired voice sending another shiver down his spine as he swallowed nervously. Had his name always sounded that good on your lips?

“Laios?” You repeated, completely oblivious to his predicament until you shifted again and felt the bulge pressing into your thigh.

He winced, bracing himself for whatever it was that might come out of your mouth next. The blond prayed silently to whatever benevolent deity above might listen that you hadn’t noticed anything and he might be able to talk his way out of this somehow and turn away. But it was too late now, the evidence was there for anyone to see- or feel in your case. A soft oh was all you offered to calm his racing mind. Heat rushed into his cheeks as he fumbled for words.

“It’s-” his words broke off as you gently pulled your leg away from him, a soft gasp spilling from his lips as he fought the urge deep within himself to chase the heat in order to satiate the growing need in his abdomen. “I… I’m sorry,” he breathed, pulling away from you and attempting to give you as much space as he could within the confines of your shared sleeping bag after you’d finally let go of him. “I…” He wanted to take the blame but he didn’t know how else to get the explanation out, “you were rubbing against me in your sleep and I tried to get you to stop. I’m so sorry.”

The blush in your cheeks mirrored the knight's as you fought to recall the dream you’d been having prior to getting woken up. You hoped you hadn’t said anything while you dreamt. 

“S-sorry, I must have been dreaming, I didn’t mean to… uh,” you stammered out, looking back at him uneasily.

“It’s okay.” He practically whispered back as he looked away from you. His nerves were set ablaze even further by the intensity of your wide eyed stare. This was pathetic, really, the way those fleeting touches sent his head spinning. The way you’d brushed up against him earlier only served to further ignite the fire inside of him. He closed his eyes then and forced himself to focus on his breathing- anything that would take his mind off of the way you looked at him or the light trail of heat that lingered along his skin from the way you’d touched his body.

“We can pretend this didn’t happen,” you offered, voice trailing off as shame crept into your voice as well. Your ears drooped down against your head in embarrassment, the fur blending in with your hair under what dim lighting the room had to offer.

Even as you tried to push the thought from your mind you couldn’t help but glance down and away from his face at that moment. You didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already seemed to be with the situation… but you couldn’t fight the curiosity, so tempted to steal a glance at the space between his thighs hidden beneath the covers.

He opened his eyes just in time to catch the way you glanced downward, unable to help the way he was drawn back to you despite the awkwardness of the situation. For a moment he wondered if he’d only imagined it and that subtle unconscious flick of your tongue against your lips. Laios practically bit his tongue to stop himself from asking something he might regret later. He wasn’t going to let one little slip-up ruin the trust that the two of you seemed to be building up so far. 

“Yeah… yeah, that’s probably for the best.” He replied with a halfhearted chuckle.

With the space between your bodies now it was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the pent up frustration in his body. The cold was now long forgotten as he focussed on the heat radiating off of you in bed next to him as the storm raged on outside.

“We should probably get back to sleep.” You commented, voice barely audible over the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears. You relaxed slightly, trying to get comfortable in the new position you found yourself in.

The sleeping bags shifted slightly and you pulled them up, your hand brushing against him through the layers of fabric. This third accidental touch was almost enough for his resolve to shatter, a strangled whine releasing from his throat before he could stop it. He tried to compose himself, it was better to just ignore it. In the morning it would be like nothing happened and the two of you could just forget about it as it became nothing more than an awkward memory at the edge of awareness. Something you think about as you’re trying to drift off to sleep and your brain starts tormenting you with humiliating memories. 

You swallowed thickly, now trying to calm yourself down in tandem with Laios as goosebumps prickled along your skin for another reason now. Something in you was begging to hear that noise again.

It was better to remain professional about this though, and you both knew that. Even as he wrestled with the urge to grab hold of you and pull you in for a kiss, even though he wanted so badly to know just how you’d taste- fuck. He didn’t want to embarrass himself any more than he already had. So instead of giving in, he bit the inside of his cheek and turned away from you then, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to ignore the ache as his erection pressed into the coarse fabric of his pants with every ragged breath that he took.

Unbeknownst to him you were fighting the exact same demons mere inches away. The air had grown thick between you, almost heavy with the weight of the tension in it. There was a long moment of hesitation before you pressed lightly into his back. Huddling together for warmth now seemed to be a blessing and a curse. 

Your shallow breaths against the nape of his neck were driving him crazy, the warm air ghosting across his skin a stark contrast to the chill in the room around you. It had a cascading effect on his senses. Goosebumps rose against the skin of his broad shoulders beneath his shirt and down his arms. He shifted slightly, biting back another hiss when his clothes rubbed against him. You could feel the tension of the muscles in his back rippling beneath his shirt, his breath coming out in shallow huffs. Your sensitive hearing easily picked up on the way his breathing shook. 

Fuck it, you thought quickly. This was all too much. If it all went south, in the worst case scenario you were almost certain that you could find your way back to the surface yourself somehow or die trying. If the sting of rejection came after what you said next you would find it within yourself to push it down and accept it. Neither of you could stew in this awkward limbo state any longer. 

“I… if you need help getting back to sleep,” you started, your voice tickling against the hair at the nape of his neck when you spoke, “I could uh… help you out…” you offered, voice trailing off at the end as you started to rethink your words. But it was too late now, and the proposition was out in the open.

Laios stilled completely at your words, his body tensing up even further when the offer dangled between you. He wasn’t sure it would be wise to accept, if he even could accept it at first. Part of him wasn’t even sure he’d heard you correctly, were you really offering what his mind wanted to believe that you were?

After a moment of stunned silence, he rolled back around to face you. Even in the dark you could see the pupils of his honeyed eyes were blown wide with lust. 

“Are you sure?” He asked quietly, searching your eyes for any hint of hesitation or reservation.

Your body acted before you were aware of it, lightly pressing closer against him beneath the covers of the sleeping bags but still resisting the urge to touch him intimately before you heard his answer. 

“If you’re comfortable with it,” you replied, tone still hushed beneath the cries of the storm outside, “and if you want me to.”

He hesitated as he weighed his options in his mind. His will was stronger than most, but his resolve in that moment had worn paper thin. As your sweet voice beckoned him he took in the softness of your features, those cute little ears twitching above your head as you waited for his response… How could he resist? 

“...I would like that.” The blond murmured sheepishly, his voice almost catching in his throat as he melted into you where your skin pressed against his.

You let out a breath of relief, your shoulders relaxing then as you slid your hand down between you. He inhaled sharply when your palm pressed itself against the heat in the front of his trousers and you could feel the way he pulsed beneath you in response to the touch. Skilled fingers slid gently along the length of his cock through the fabric as he bit the inside of his cheek. 

Your eyes widened slightly, a light gasp breaking the silence from you as you felt the less than humble girth between his hips. 

His body reacted involuntarily to the touch, leaning into it slightly as he squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment once more. Everything else had already begun to fade away as he focussed on the warmth of your palm against him, the length straining desperately against the cloth. Fingers rubbed slowly against the outside of the rough fabric before your hand gently squeezed around the tallman’s cock and earned another shuddering breath from him.

Hazy lust filled eyes focussed on the fluffy ears atop your head, too shy to look down at your face as he trembled beneath your touch. His hands balled into fists as you began to massage his shaft, brows knitting together as he fought to hold in a moan. He wanted to touch you so badly, your skin beckoning to him like a siren's song as he leaned into your touch.

The way he pulsed against every little flick and drag of your fingers had your mouth watering in anticipation. Still, you wanted to see him relax, your hand sliding up and down slowly against his length. 

The simple friction of your palm against him shouldn’t have sent him into the tailspin that it did, his hips beginning to shift instinctively against your touch. The slow massage of your grip against him only served to make his body ache even more. Laios finally started to let go, a low moan reverberating out against the night air.

“There we go…” you sighed, lightly squeezing him through his pants once more in appreciation.

As he began to give in fully to the pleasure you were giving him the sounds he made were nothing short of heavenly. Whimpers and whines began to slip out more frequently as you touched him now. His hips rocked against you as the slow strokes of your hands stoked the flames of need within him.

You were acutely aware now more than ever of the close proximity, your lips mere inches apart as you started to fully stroke him through his pants. As much as you wanted to tease him more, it was plain as day on his face that he needed this, and you certainly couldn't say no. Silently, you cursed the fabric that hid his body from view.

He couldn’t help but thrust his hips up against your grasp, letting out another soft whine as a similar thought crossed his mind. He needed more contact, the saccharine sound of your coos coupled with the sensation of your hand rubbing his cock through his pants was only making him more desperate as another whine escaped him.

Slowly, your fingers trailed up the front of his pants, earning a disappointed little huff from your comrade at the loss of your touch. Your breaths trembled as your hand came to rest at the closure on the front of his pants.

Your eyes searched for him in the darkness, looking into his with sincerity as you breathed out a soft “May I?”

“God, yes. ” He whined out.

Even if he wanted to he couldn’t have kept the desperation out of his voice if he tried. It was more than enough to have your hands undoing the fastening on his pants with ease. His hips lifted up off the bed so you could help him shimmy out of the garments just enough. 

His cock sprung free from the restrictive fabric and he let out a contented sigh of relief. It twitched in your hands, earning a soft hum from you as you wrapped your fingers around the base of his shaft.

The sudden release felt like heaven, he couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through his body as you began to stroke him again. That delicious drag of your hand against him, skin finally on skin. Your touch was gentle though, it made him want to press forward even more, his hips bucking up against your grip as a low moan ripped from his throat again. The touch was akin to a jolt of electricity through his system and as he stole another glance down at your pretty face he couldn’t help but admit to himself that perhaps it was more than the friction that had gotten him worked up. 

You lifted your hand and spat gently into it before reaching back down and spreading the warm slick against his length. His breath hitched at the new sensation, his chest heaving slightly with every breath he took. 

You sighed happily as you felt another grateful pulse beneath your grip. Your thumb swiped lightly over the bead of pre-cum that drooled out of the needy pink tip of his cock while you began to pump him slowly. Hot breath fanned against his neck, your gaze flickering back up to his handsome face. If Laios noticed the way your eyes glanced down to his parted lips, he didn't show it. He was too engrossed in the almost torturous pace you’d set for him. 

Every instinct within him screamed for you to pick up the pace, to hurry up and relieve the tension building up in his body as your grip tightened around his shaft. He let out a groan, knowing that in actuality he wouldn’t dare try and rush you, wanting to hang on to the intoxicating feeling of this intimate moment for as long as he possibly could.

“Can I kiss you?” He whimpered out, looking down at you with a pitiful expression on his flushed face.

He’d hardly had to finish his sentence before your lips were on his, eagerly swallowing his moans while you jerked him off under the covers. The noise you made was somewhere between a moan and a growl, your sharp canines grazing against his lips while your free hand moved up to grip the mess of short blonde hair at the nape of his neck.

Your kiss was returned eagerly, his eyes fluttering shut as he basked in the perfect taste of your lips. The low hum of Laios’ moans vibrated up from deep within his chest while his hips bucked lazily with every pump of your fist against him. When you finally broke apart he was panting and whining as he thrusted up into your hand.

“You’re so handsome like this,” you purred, pressing kisses against his jaw before he needily pulled you back into him for another hungry kiss.

One of his strong hands tangled its fingers in the locks of your messy hair, the tips of his digits gently putting pressure on your scalp as he kissed you with newfound passion. His cheeks burned at your compliment, unable to keep from giving in. He would proudly drink up every ounce of pleasure you were offering him. You returned the kiss full force, every flick of your wrist dragging more of those beautiful sounds from his lips.

Laios had always found himself weak in the knees whenever you’d compliment him, but he’d done his best to ignore it for the sake of the mission. Your kind words had such an effect on him but right now your praise felt like so much more. Something about the way you pressed into him, your fingers grasping at his hair, soft lips on his, it made him want nothing more than to hear what sort of sounds you might make beneath him instead.

As if on cue, his fingers grazed lightly against the base of your ears, earning a whimper against his lips as you kissed. The soft fur was just as incredible beneath his fingertips as he imagined. He'd wanted to feel those cute little wolf ears from the moment he'd laid eyes on them and now was the perfect opportunity. It was his turn to make you weak in the knees, the comfortable intimacy of the touch had every thought melting out of your mind.

At your moans he couldn’t help but thrust a little harder into your fist. But you slowed down, the slick strokes of your palm all but stopping as your fist tightened around the base of his shaft.

Selfishly, you wanted to drag this out for as long as you could, to milk this moment for everything that it was worth while moans tangled together between you two. His tongue dipped past your soft lips, sinking into your mouth and running along yours as he continued to play with your ears.

You found yourself pressing your thighs together, hips shifting as arousal pooled within you, a futile attempt to get some sort of friction against where you needed it most. The taste of his lips against yours was almost enough on its own to have your eyes rolling back into your head. But the way his fingers teased and tugged at your sensitive ears had your mind swirling with lust as your thumb swept across the crown of his cock once more, smearing precum and saliva against the heated skin.

He groaned again at your teasing, breaking the kiss with a pant as he rutted up into your fist. His head was spinning from the way you touched him, all five of his senses on fire. The way your hand squeezed around his cock, your soft lips on his, those cute expressions when he played with your ears, after having gone so long without a moment to relieve himself it was almost too much and not enough all at the same time. He could feel the soft triangles of nerves and fur twitching and tensing beneath his hand, your whimpers against his mouth were already getting desperate.He needed more of you, more of those sweet sounds you were giving him.

“Please,” you begged, the word leaving your lips like a prayer before you’d realised what you were even saying. The storm didn’t matter anymore, the only pressing issue was the burning desire that threatened to consume you both in an instant. Your grip stiffened around him then as he fucked your hand lazily.

He couldn’t help the lusty moan that drawled out of him when you tightened up. Laios could only hope that the cover of darkness hid how shameless he looked then, adorned by your touch. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus with what you were doing to him. He could hardly keep his composure as your name left his mouth in another desperate whine. The pleasure zipped its way up his spine as his head fell back against the pillows again, eyes fluttering shut.

A strong hand wrapped around your waist, practically pulling you on top of him. His mouth hung open, lips parted to let out the needy sighs and whines that spilled out as his brows knit together.

He looked like the most delectably sinful work of art you’d ever laid eyes on, every marble statue and delicate oil painting paling in comparison. It was difficult not to feel giddy at the fact that you were the only one who got to see such a beautiful sight.

You couldn’t help yourself but to lean down and press kisses along the exposed skin of his neck, canines lightly brushing against the sensitive spots on his neck while you lightly nipped and sucked at his pale flesh.

He could hardly keep his composure, more desperate whimpers leaving his mouth as he was consumed by desire. His heart pounded in his chest like the beat of a drum when you finally straddled him, soft thighs splayed open across his as you worked his cock.

His hand gripped your hips with a newfound possessiveness. The warmth of your body pressed against him had him completely drunk on lust and the throbbing between his legs that you’d been skillfully building up with every little flick of your wrist was becoming unbearable.

Laios couldn’t stop himself from rutting up against you, his cock rubbing up against your crotch as he held you down against his body. A shudder wracked through him when he felt the tip rub against your heat through the layers of fabric that separated you two. 

He let out a soft curse at the feeling, your warmth only teasing him more as you let out a little cry of pleasure. Your hips jolted forwards against him involuntarily, searching for a little more pressure when he bumped against you. 

“Ah…” You sighed, your grip on his length slipping when he shuddered beneath you.

The little mewls you were already starting to let out as you ground against him were more compelling than any siren’s call. His hips jutted forward again as he started to thrust against you in time with the tantalising roll of your hips. The way your body moved on top of him was hypnotising. If there was a heaven, this is what it must have felt like. He needed to get his hands on your skin, to make you feel even half the pleasure you were giving him. His breathing was growing haggard as he fought the urge to rip your shorts in half just so he could have you right then and there. 

“Hah, please, ” he panted, “please, can I touch you?” The way his golden eyes stared up at you, wide and pleading, would have been enough on its own to have your heart racing.

Your eyes were half lidded as you looked down at him, your tail swishing lightly across his thighs in anticipation. Pride swelled in your chest at the mess you’d reduced him to in just a few short minutes, though you were no better.

“Please.” You echoed, proving your desire with another needy roll of your hips against his length.

Your gorgeous form settled prettily in his lap, eagerly awaiting his next move. Gods above, he would do anything for you. 

The tallman’s breath hitched in his throat at your plea, his mouth drying up when he looked up into your eyes. His hands trembled lightly against your thighs as he moved to hook his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. 

“Are you sure?” He stammered out.

Once this line was crossed it could never be uncrossed, there would be no going back. Hell, he didn’t think he wanted to. If he could lay with you every night for the rest of his life he’d die satisfied. Thankfully for him, your reassurance was all he needed to let loose.

“I need you.” You breathed.

The intoxicating drag of his length against your clothed warmth had you both tensing up with the desire for more. You craved him like you’d never craved another’s touch before, the burning ache within you would be satisfied with nothing more than being filled by his girth. 

Simultaneously, at your needy whines he found himself on the verge of losing control, his hips grinding up against you with a little more force before he finally pulled the garments off of you. His knuckles white as he clenched the fabrics in his hand and discarded them beside himself on the bed. The pressure, the lust, all of it was too much.

His strong hands grasped your hips again for a moment as he stared at you in awe, the soft tufts of fur on your body perfectly framing your heat. If it had been any other time and place he’d have had you on your back beneath him in seconds, diving his face between your thighs just to get a taste of what you had to offer. The slick glint of your own arousal shone slightly in the dim lighting, he’d have to wait for another time if he got the chance. Right now he needed this.

One hand slid between your thighs to stroke you gently, his gaze laser focussed on the way you twitched and trembled beneath his touch. The sweet sound of your moans filled his ears and he couldn’t take it anymore. He lifted you up again, aligning his cock with your entrance before slipping inside. Laios didn’t want to waste a second longer without your skin against his.

The head of his cock split you open with ease and had you whimpering at the sting of the stretch while you sunk down on him. Thighs tensed as you sucked his tip inside of you, sending his eyes rolling back into his head.

You groaned, “sh-shit… ah.. S’too big..” You whined.

Despite your protest, he watched as you circled your hips above him, wanting more of that painful pleasure as you bounced slightly in his lap. Silently, you begged your body to get used to the feeling, but on the other hand you didn’t think you ever could… hell, maybe you didn’t want to. The burn of his size was delicious in its own way.

“Mmm-ngh!” He grunted, the tips of his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs. His nails threatened to bite into the skin there as he tried hard not to buck his hips up into you. As much as his body craved the feeling of bottoming out inside you he refused to cause you any further discomfort. 

“Fu-huhhck.. It’ll… it’ll get easier, I promise.” Laios cooed, reaching a hand down to stroke you again to ease the pain.

Your head lolled back against your shoulder as you tried to take him deeper, the ridge of his cockhead sinking in past the first ring of muscle when you began to relax for him. The whimpers and groans already leaving your mouth had goosebumps rising against his pale flesh again as his own whines trembled past his lips. His dick pulsed inside of you, sending more fluid leaking out against where you were connected.

“Oh my god,” You groaned, feeling his precum mixing with yours and dripping down the inside of your thighs. 

His breaths were ragged as he tried to maintain his composure for your sake, but all was lost as soon as you commented on the way he twitched inside of you. With a grunt, he let his hips surge forward the slightest bit, sinking deeper inside. The knowledge that his cock was leaking inside of you, that you could feel every twitch and every pulse of his veins in your heat, it stirred something primal within him. His fingers tensed against you while he fought the urge to rut up into you like an animal.

Suddenly, your hand joined his in stroking yourself, fingers teasing the engorged area of your arousal. His eyes were glued to you then, watching the way you struggled to take him. Your hips rolled up and down against the first few inches, trying to take just a little bit more.

“That’s right..” he panted, watching with half lidded eyes as you touched yourself above him. His voice was a low purr against your eardrums, his thumb rubbing little comforting circles into your hip as he drank in the beautiful sight before him. “You can take it… you’re already doing so well, just a little more, yeah?”

You nodded, cheeks burning at the praise as another inch sunk inside.

Laios' eyes darkened with a fierce hunger as he watched you work your fingers against your slick heat. The wet, rhythmic sounds of your shallow thrusting blended with the heavy symphony of breathless moans and urgent whimpers filling the room. The old wooden bedframe groaned beneath your intertwined bodies, each creak adding a raw, primal beat to the music of your desire.

It was all music to his ears. His pupils were blown wide, gaze locked on where you straddled him, lost in the sight of you. The scorching, tight sensation of your walls squeezing around him erased all coherent thought, leaving only a primal urge to fill you completely. 

Barely three inches deep inside you, he was on the edge of sanity, teetering on the brink of losing control with every subtle shift and grind of your hips. Each tiny movement had him mesmerised, but when you whimpered his name with a desperate cry, he gasped, watching you sink further down on his cock. Every little movement you made had his gaze transfixed on you.

Your hands clenched into tight fists against the coarse fabric at the hem of his shirt, the material now messily bunched up around his waist. The friction of the cloth against your skin only heightened the intensity, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through both of you.

His abdomen tensed and flexed beneath your hands as he held himself back. He gasped and shuddered, your body taking him so well as you practically sucked him in. Jaw clenched tight, he let out a soft groan of your name. For a brief moment his eyes squeezed shut, his needy whines only serving to further your attempts to take him all the way. The cold air of the room stung his skin where it touched him, heightening the sensation of your warm body pressed against his.

You were a whining mess already, the mixture of pain and pleasure going straight to your groin when you finally took him all the way down to the hilt. The slight curve of his dick had the head pressing firmly against the spot inside you that made your knees weak. He was finally sheathed inside you, pulsing and twitching like a live wire. Ironically, he was the one who wanted to start pounding into you like a dog in heat. His eyes rolled back again as he let out a guttural moan, the sound rippling up from somewhere deep in his chest. Laios wanted to stay composed, to keep himself in check… but the excitement coursing through his body had rendered him helpless against his own desires as he began to bounce you up and down in his lap. 

The way he said your name echoed inside your head, somewhere between a plea for more and a low groan that rolled off the tip of his tongue. Your hands shook against the fabric of his shirt, your back arching overtop of him as you tried to catch your breath, a blessing he wouldn’t allow you as he bucked into you.

“Oh my god,” his voice was breathless. “Fff… ah- ‘m sorry,” He whined, the friction sending a ripple of ecstasy down his spine. 

His grip tightened on your hips, holding you tightly against his pelvis. That brief moment of weakness had earned a wanton cry of pleasure from your lips. He let another shaking breath out, trying to compose himself, he was reminded of the way your face contorted when he pushed inside. His eyes shut again as he took a deep breath.

Once the initial shock wore off for you it was heavenly. The sound of his ragged pants and whines egging you on as you started to move against him, fighting the urge to melt into his body at the pleasure. Your legs were quivering now as he thrusted up against you again, trying with all your might to keep enough of a level head to move back down against him.

One of his hands reached down to massage your thigh as he cooed soft praises up at you. When you’d started to move all bets were off, his hips thrusting up eagerly to meet your movements while his other hand held your hips possessively. The slow rhythm you’d set was perfect, but he needed more . 

“‘S’okay, right?” he huffed out, looking up at you with what could only be described as adoration. He wanted you to enjoy this just as much as he did.

All you could manage was a hurried nod and a whimper.

“That’s it… yeah,” He groaned, watching as you held onto him for dear life. 

Your features contorted in ecstasy as he began to roll up against you, his shallow thrusts helping to establish that slow rhythm between you for the time being.

That smooth voice had you clenching around him, body shivering. The wind rushed by outside and fell on deaf ears, the only thing that mattered to either of you right then was this perfect moment. Your body spread open on his dick while he fucked you gently. 

“So good,” he babbled, mostly to himself as his head fell back against the pillows. “Oh my god,” Laios groaned, his words punctuated by the slow, steady roll of his hips up against you as he ground his cock against that sensitive spot inside you. 

Another cry of pleasure left your throat, the sound hanging in the open air between you as you began to slide yourself up and down along his length. His words had you dizzy, already drunk on his touch as your legs shook on either side of him. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to maintain a steady rhythm, but the continuous drag against your sweet spot had your eyes glazing over and he wasn’t about to stop any time soon. When another cry of his name left your lips he groaned again. The sound was smooth and hoarse all at the same time, his hands tensing on your hips.

Your body was practically milking him already while you rode him. In a perfect world he could go on like this all night, just laying back and letting you take control… but he could see the fatigue in your movements. Your eyebrows knit together, hands shaking against his abs. Any semblance of modesty or bashfulness had left him as the hands that had rested on your hips slipped below you to grip the fat of your ass with a grunt. 

In an instant your back was flush against the bed, hips pinned down by his capable hands. 

Laios aligned himself with your entrance once more, pushing himself in all the way to the hilt in one fluid motion as he kissed your cheeks to soothe the ache of the stretch. A hand pressed against his cheek, golden eyes looking lovingly into your own as he smiled down at you.

“I can take it from here, okay?” His voice was soft right before he pressed another kiss against your forehead. He had you pinned beneath him as he littered kisses across your heated skin. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back like this, not for long anyway.

“Ngh… o-off,” you whimpered, your fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. If he was going to fuck you like this you wanted to see it all, every tense and flex of his thick muscles above you until the image was locked in your brain. “I wanna see you.” 

There was a moment of hesitation at your plea, Laios taking in the gentle tone and the way your ears laid flat against the top of your head as you begged so cutely underneath him. He’d never felt so wanted in his life, and the way you clung to him had him half convinced this might have been some sort of dream. Nonetheless he’d shed his shirt in an instant immediately afterwards, his sturdy frame on full display for you now as he sat back up between your thighs.

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as you watched him pull his shirt off over his head. Your eyes greedily drank in the sight before you, the way his bare chest heaved with every shaking breath, his abdominal muscles tensing beneath his skin as he rocked back into you. He couldn’t help the smile on his lips when he caught you staring.

His lips were on yours then, capturing them in another hungry kiss as he began to thrust into you with long, slow strokes. Your legs squeezed against his hips, tongues tangling together in an intricate dance to the beat of a song only the two of you could hear. 

Soft fingers pressed into the firm flesh spanning his broad shoulders as you whined into the kiss.

Laios practically growled then, something snapping inside of him when he felt the way your tail flicked against the side of his leg in approval. His head buried itself in the crook of your neck as he began to pick up the pace, grinding himself down against your tight heat.

Creaks and moans filled the room now, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin coming in to join the chorus. Your arousal and pre-cum dripped between the two of you, the viscous translucent fluids stretching between your bodies and connecting the two of you in strings every time he began to pull back. The room was heavy with the scent of sex, all initial reservations forgotten as he slammed into you.

“Ah!” You gasped, claws biting into the skin of his back accidentally when he rammed into the spot that had your vision blurring again.

“Fuck!” He growled again, his teeth scraping against your shoulder in retaliation. “You’re so fucking hot… taking me so well.” 

You practically squealed beneath him, body clenching around his cock with a grip that threatened to make him cum on the spot. The headboard banged against the wall with the force of his thrusts, his grip on you tightening possessively. All you could do was gasp and whimper beneath him as you tried to keep yourself coherent.

The way he fucked you was animalistic, his hips grinding down against you just enough to rub at your arousal trapped between your bodies. Sweat began to bead on his brow as he lost control, those primal urges within him flooding to the surface as he rutted into you.

Your body tensed and shook under him as he used his grip on your hips to deepen his thrusts. His usual soft amber eyes looked more golden, more wolf like than your own as he looked down at you.

Laios grunted as he rolled forwards against you again and sent your claws dragging against his back. You clung to him desperately, this carnal need worse than any heat you’d ever gone through. He had you panting and gasping with the force of his relentless thrusts, the bed creaking and slamming against the wall as you both lost control.

“Fuck, fuck, please! D-don’t stop” you sobbed out.

He didn’t think it was possible for your body to grip him any tighter but every time he pulled out it felt like you were sucking him back in.

He growled in response, his hand reaching down to stroke you in time with his relentless thrusts as he felt the tension starting to build in his abdomen. Your cute little squeaks and whines went straight to his cock. He couldn’t form a proper sentence if he tried.

You were babbling now, begging for more as you started to come undone around him. The perfect arch of your back off the bed pressed you even tighter against his body and he took it upon himself to hold you there as he fucked you through your orgasm.

It had you seeing white, a sob of pleasure wracked your body. Thighs clenched around his hips, your moans shaking. The blond watched as you came, your head lolling back against your shoulders in post orgasmic bliss. He savoured the way your body tightened around him.

His fingernails dug into your hips as he pistoned into you. “C-close…” He grunted into your neck.

In your bliss, you begged him to finish inside. The debauched whimpers setting his nerves on edge and his pulse skyrocketing. Your pleas filling his head as he ground against your already overstimulated heat. Your cum dribbled down against his skin as he pinned you back down, growling into your neck as he reached his peak with a loud curse. The sound was muffled by your soft flesh against his lips and teeth as he shuddered above you. His hips jutted forward and slammed you against the bed as you milked him for everything he was worth, his cock twitching and sputtering inside you.

“Ngh! Fuck…” He whined. His hands rubbed lightly against your sides, lightly squeezing your ass one more time as he stayed inside.

“Hah,” you chuckled tiredly, lightly stroking along the marks you’d left on his back. “I knew you were pent up but I didn’t realise you were that pent up,” you teased, turning your head to the side so you could kiss his jaw.

“‘S not my fault,” He whined, nuzzling further into your neck. After all, how could it be his fault alone when you had him so wound up he could barely think straight? 

This earned a little giggle from you as he rolled off of you, coming to rest at your side in the bed. The wind had calmed outside, the musty scent of the old room long replaced with the stench of arousal and sweat. A part of him couldn’t believe what you’d just done, and in a dungeon no less…

The sight of you blissed out next to him was enough to make him forget his lamentations entirely. Your soft ears tickled his jaw as you nuzzled closer, arms clinging to him as fatigue took over again. He reached down and pulled the sleeping bags back up over you, not wanting to risk the cold creeping back in again.

“You’re so cute like this,” He smiled, the fingers of his free hand gently running up through your hair to stroke your ears lightly.

“Ngh… n-no, shut up,” You whined.

It was a weak line and it was obvious you didn’t mean it. Even Laios could have told you that from your tone alone, but the way your tail wagged against your side of the bed had him beaming. 

“Hey, I mean it,” He murmured, his hands tracing lightly against your skin and the soft patches of fur on it.

You kept hiding your face regardless, embarrassed by the compliment. Your lips pressed gently against his shoulders, peppering kisses there in a silent apology for the claw marks as exhaustion crept into your bones. 

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispered, leaning down and to plant a soft kiss against the dewy skin of your forehead. He took it one step further and reached over to lightly stroke your tail. His golden eyes were half lidded now and filled with all the adoration in the world as he looked down at you. 

“We should get back to sleep,” you sighed, melting into the way he stroked your hair. 

Even just mere hours ago he couldn’t imagine having you this at ease and relaxed in his arms. He gently adjusted himself so he was curled around you too, your limbs tangled together as you drifted off to sleep.

[mullermilkshake]

Late night caller

Part 17 <- Part 18 -> Part 19

You and Jinwoo talk, because it's what builds a healthy relationship.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - Pregnant reader, not much besides discussing relationships/ relationship strain, kissing

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

TAG LIST CLOSED

Please let me know in the comments for any Korean baby names you'd like to see in the randomiser for the babies names!

“That was wonderful, my dear.”

The Chairman cleared his plate and bowed his head respectfully to you with a smile. Jin-chul had been quiet most of the night, only small talk with you and answering questions asked and not the other way around.

Jinwoo looked dessert drunk, eyes glossed over with a sweet smile in your direction now and then. His hand found yours under the table, discreetly padding his fingertips over the back of your hand during conversation.

“Thank you, Chairman. You’re too kind.”

You weren’t exactly at ease, but the night went better than expected. It continued through the evening with light conversation and discussions about the twins and polite questions that still put you on edge.

“We aren’t finding out their genders until they’re born.” Jinwoo stated the fact precisely and to the point, regardless of the two other men in the room looking at him like he was mad.

“You aren’t? Hunter Cha is finding out tomorrow, actually. Maybe you could go with her?”

Going with her was inappropriate, you weren’t nearly as close to Hae-in as some people thought. You were not best friends, nor sisters, just two people with an understanding and no ill will.

“Yeah, we decided to leave it as a surprise. But I think Jong-in is the best person to go with her, seeing as he’s the father, don’t you think?”

The Chairman nodded in agreement as you cleared his plate. “I understand, it’s just that with the second pregnancy, Hunter Choi has taken on more responsibilities.”

You hardly ever saw Jong-in any more. It was a harder pill to swallow than most, knowing each other before you awakened later than most. Jong-in was reliable, usually consistent and kind, but lately, his behaviour changed drastically.

He just wasn’t around anymore.

“Maybe I’ll call in on Hae-in tomorrow, see how she’s doing at least.”

After speaking with her last night, her jittery behaviour put you on edge. There was something about her shifty eyes, watching Jong-in every so often as he sat with the other woman the Chairman dumped on him. In truth, Jong-in appeared quite smitten, though that could have been a show he put on to make the association happy.

Shame. I really thought he and Hae-in would make it. 

“That sounds perfect, thank you… Well, we better go, it’s getting late.”

Chairman Go stood first, Jin-chul hung on every movement and followed him towards the front door with a chorus of thank you’s and reassuring words that the association would back away.

After he left, Jin-chul remained for only a moment, adjusting his tie to waste time to be out of earshot.

“Tonight was eye opening. But, if you wish to go down this road, be sure to make it wholeheartedly true, not as one-sided as it is.”

You didn’t anticipate the audible gasp that slipped your lips out into the hallway. But everyone heard. As Jin-chul left for the exit, you stood there watching him.

Was it that obvious for how conflicted you were about Jinwoo’s confession and where your own heart lied? In truth, you were confused, you wanted to let go and let things proceed in their own way but how could you?

After the front door closed, the tension shifted. Jinwoo turned and wandered into the kitchen before you could say a word. Shit. He said it didn’t matter if you felt the same, but obviously he was just as conflicted too. He was the father of the babies you were carrying, and he made you feel safe. Was that really enough to settle with and give it a real try? Wasn’t that what you were already doing?

“Jinwoo.” You said, hugging your arms and swaying a fraction as he started washing the dishes with his back to you.

“Jinwoo...”

“Dessert was so good, we should make it again sometime soon.”

“Jinwoo.” More authority this time.

“Dinner too, that was spectacular, we should really keep that recipe handy-“

“Jinwoo… look at me please.”

He stopped sorting the dishes, running the steaming hot water into the basin to create enough bubbles to clean the dried up sauces on the ceramic.

“What is it, baby?”

Despite the tugging in your stomach because Jinwoo didn’t look your way, you kept your distance. “About what Jin-chul said… I-I think we should talk-”

“Ignore him. He’s being dramatic, we’re just fine how we are. If people take issue, then let them.”

That wasn’t the point.

“I’m not talking about whether people have an issue… What Jin-chul said about-”

Jinwoo finally turned to you with the sweetest smile that never reached his eyes, his hands dripping soapy bubbles at his feet. “Don’t worry about that. We talked about it already, didn’t we? I don’t expect anything from you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Could you see yourself being married to him, for real? Like real, real. Not just pretend and make believe to keep the Chairman at bay, which clearly worked, but for a real shot at married life with a man you never saw yourself with until the programme brought you together.

Did you need him? Could you want him as much as he wanted you? You weren’t even sure how much that really was, in honesty. In other words, you had no clue about him, more than just his favourite hobbies or the colours that didn't interest him, the dessert that he could never refuse and the pair of shoes he could never throw out because they were too comfortable to lose.

You weren’t sure what you needed, and considering it confused you, shook your foggy brain up with an imaginary centrifugal force to make you dizzy. What did you need? What could you possibly want?

He loved you, he did so much for you and you still were in the dark.

“Jinwoo… Just how much do you actually love me?”

His eyes widened a fraction, he blinked rapidly in an attempt to fool you and stifle it though you noticed immediately. He dried his hands and took yours so that you followed him. 

“Come with me…” He led you towards the bedroom and halted between the threshold. “You can stay up tonight, Beru. But keep the TV down.”

Beru emerged and knelt, never saying a word which still startled you. He kept his head down as you backed away, though Jinwoo kept moving. You never had time to stand and watch the ant’s movements over towards the living room.

Standing in silence set your stomach on a fine edge, a pit of something you couldn’t register on his face like a mask. You couldn’t tell if he was going to lecture you, or the opposite, but you weren’t even sure what that was.

“Jinwoo-”

“Come sit down, we’ll talk in here.” He warmly patted the space beside him on the bed.

“O-okay.”

When you did, Jinwoo took your hand lovingly and placed it between his own with a reassuring squeeze. “You really want to know just how much I love you? Because I was going to wait until the twins were born, or maybe when we got married… but, if you want me to be transparent about it, you need to let me say everything. Can you do that?”

You just nodded, the anticipation was slowly killing you.

“I never thought that I would have ended up here when I first saw you. It took some time, but when I realised, I fell hard for you… You’re beautiful, intelligent, and you make me smile on dark days. When I’m exhausted and dirty from a dungeon, you are the first person I want to be around. You challenge me, push me to be the man I know I always was deep down. The man I want to be… I was truthful when I said I’d let you walk all over me.” He chuckled, but it didn’t match his expression.

“I love you to the point that I’d do literally anything you ask, in a heartbeat. I just don’t want to be away from you, I couldn’t bear it. I know it’s been difficult adjusting, and it’s not the way I would have done things either, but it’s the cards we've been dealt with and we should make the most of it, together. But that’s if you want it too, so don’t listen to Jin-chul, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

You lingered in the pause, a moment in silence that was not wasted on you. Jinwoo continued. “I love you for you, and I’d do anything for you. Anything. I never wanted to spring it on you like this in case it drove you away. I’d hate not to see you all the time.”

He spoke to you like a husband of twenty years. But he wasn’t. Not yet. But he could be.

“You love me.”

“I do.”

“I…” You couldn’t say it until you were sure. 

So you did the next best thing until you could sort your head out. You kissed him.

Sweetly, without an ounce of passion or lustrous touches. Just a kiss, then another, and another. Jinwoo caressed your cheek, cupping it so that your head rested into his palm. Each pull from your lips, a long drawl of poetic sounds in a room with a heavy silence that weighed less with each second.

“I love you, baby.” He said, pulling away for only a second before gravitating back to you.

Jinwoo felt his way to your belly, grazing it before touching your waist before you disappeared in his arms. It was desperate, but he held back like he was afraid to go too hard because it would break you.

“How much?”

He never missed a beat when he pulled you onto his lap, shuffling back for more space. “More than the world.”

You sucked at his bottom lip and pulled off his cardigan in an agonisingly slow motion. “And you’d do anything for me?”

Just how far would this man go for you? You weren’t sure.

“Anything.” 

The way Jinwoo slipped the straps from your dress off of your shoulders tickled your skin into goosebumps. Your heart swelled by how his fingertips ran down the exposed skin on your arms as though he was admiring art, taking in each inch with a careful eye and every subtle, invisible word under his breath.

“Would you still love me if I was turned into a magic beast?”

Jinwoo stopped and watched you with a quizzical look, he softly tittered and played with a strand of your hair as you sat over his thighs. “Of course I would. Out of all the things you could ask, why that?”

It seemed perfectly logical in your mind, things like that could probably happen, it probably happened once already and no one found out yet. How could they if the person turned into a magic beast couldn’t talk?

“I don’t know.” You drew back, a little embarrassed by your impulsivity. Jinwoo pulled you closer and pressed his lips on your collarbone to the crook of your neck. “With the way things are going and what’s happened so far, anything is possible, I guess.”

“I’d love you even if you were a magic beast, if you were a worm or if you were somehow transformed into a toaster, I’d still be here.”

You let him kiss you again, but your mind grew more curious in challenging ways. It was as though you wanted to test him, to see just how far he’d go. While it wasn’t wise, your sudden inquisitivity merited more depth.

“Would you change yourself for me?” You weren’t sure if you wanted the answer, but still asked.

“If that’s what you wanted me to do-”

“Don’t do that. Please, don’t change, Jinwoo.”

He never said anything after that, he just continued locking lips, casually adding tongue whenever it was appropriate. If he would willingly change himself without hesitation, what else would he do?

What if there was a dungeon break and something like Jeju island happened again? Jinwoo would keep you and the babies safe, that was a given. Despite your S-Rank status, your abilities weren’t exactly combative to fight something of that calibre.

You had missed Jeju island, you hadn’t awakened until two months later. Though it was discussed, you only knew of the aftermath, not the full details. Everyone seemed to want to forget it, but just the thought of another break like that made your skin crawl.

It was likely you’d never know the full details, not from Jong-in, Hae-in or Baek, anyway.

But what came after a break like that? If Jinwoo couldn’t maintain order with the association whilst you just kept strategic exits plastered around the place, transported tools and only healed yourself, what happened then? 

Raiders. Thieves. Bad people who would take the shirt from your back just because they could and hurt you and the babies in the process.

You wondered how Jinwoo would handle something so atrocious.

“Would you kill for me?”

Jinwoo halted and froze, his eyes wide open enough to tell you had gone too far. “Shit. I’m sorry, I’m just thinking out loud, we’re having children together and I’m getting worried about stuff that’ll never happen-”

“I would.” He said, so sure of himself. “We’re going to be parents… I think when push comes to shove, we’ll both do it if it came down to it.”

He had a point.

“I don’t really know what I’d do until I’m in that position-”

The bedroom door knocked, heavily though singular. Three clunks, followed by a controlled response.

“Sire, my sincerest apologies for the intrusion. Someone is at the door for you!” 

Jinwoo dropped his head to your shoulder and cursed under his breath. “Just ignore it, Beru. Finish watching your show.”

The brief moment of quiet was enough for Jinwoo to taste your skin again- “ My Liege, they are quite insistent!” 

You left Jinwoo’s grasp before he could protest, he yanked the door open faster than you were certain he meant to. “Beru, we’re busy-”

The front door knocked, well it was more of a frantic banging. Beru hunched over, his head missing the ceiling with his posture.

“Wait here.” Jinwoo marched on over to the door.

You ignored his instruction and followed behind him at a distance, clutching your baby bump on instinct. When the door opened, you stood next to the rather large ant and watched on in awe at someone you didn’t expect to see this time of night.

“It’s late. What are you doing here?” Jinwoo asked, his hands defensively on the door and the frame like a barrier.

Jong-in cleared his throat and tried to rub away the dark circles under his eyes. “It’s Hae-in. She’s missing, and I can’t find her.”

Part 17 <- Part 18 -> Part 19

Thank you for reading and all of the support on this fic! ❤️ Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated and I appreciate you all! See you next time 🤗

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!