#really just me lamenting how little content he had

[octoooo]

I want more information about Sabito :(

Silly little bunny coded Fox coded guy

Like, what was he like before the demon attack? We only ever see him through someone else’s eyes. Tanjiro at first and he’s brash and harsh, then Giyuu & he’s portrayed similarly but caring as well. Is this just his default? Is it a result of losing his loved ones? Did he even have loved ones?

(I let my thoughts flow free & wrote a lot again 🫠)

Who did he live with? Does he have a goofy story behind his hair color like Rengoku & Mitsuri?

I mean he had to have gotten it from somewhere, maybe an ancestor ate a million peaches and suddenly their kids had peachy hair.

Also what was his family like? Nice? Cruel? Cold and distant? I mean Sabito seems to operate with tough love so was that learned or did he just pick it up after the Demon incident?

Personal 🐙 headcanon time; I like to think he had a nice family; parents, 2 older brothers, himself and a younger brother and sister.

I’ve seen hc’s where Sabito is an older sibling (either the oldest or the middle child) and he’s a sweet older brother. I’ve seen hc’s where Sabito suffers from some sort of amnesia. Which explains why we never learn about his family name or birthday or anything—because he can’t tell us.

Where did his toxic masculinity come from? Was it taught to him by an older family member? Did he craft that idea after being too “weak” to save his family from the demon?

(I like to think Giyuu eventually steers him away from those toxic thoughts. Starting with bribes like “a real man would take charge & wash the dishes,” to “real men let themselves feel” and “real men are able to cry.” Without giyuu as his buffer though Sabito reverts to his old toxic self. That’s what it’s so important for them both to live, they support each other & make the other better (or worse))

Didn’t mean to go in Sabigiyuu rant XD anyway,

Where did his scar come from? Of course we can assume it was from the demon attack but what if it wasn’t? What if Sabito was just being a goofy kid and he sliced his cheek open sliding down Mt Sagiri? Or what if it was from a family member?

If there’s anything our fav demon slayers have it’s tragic backstories & I think Sabito deserves at least A backstory. Doesn’t have to be tragic like,,a few crumbs Gotouge please 🙏🏾 I love head canons just as much as the next person, but they’re only temporary scratches to this burning itch, a scratch that only canon info can soothe and THEN I can choose to patch over it with headcanons or not.

[yueebby]

Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀

she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz

notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.

“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously. 

“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”

shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.

utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer. 

“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.

intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”

“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.

“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial. 

utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.

“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly. 

“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards. 

utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”

from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.

with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.

bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.

“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.

“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”

“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.

a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.

“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?”  satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.

“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.

during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress. 

“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.

“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”

you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.

“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.

 you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.

“that’s what love does to a man.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.” 

 satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.

“how much?”

“excuse me?”

“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you. 

you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.

shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!” 

suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”

“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.

she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”

you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.

trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”

“i’m buying you that dress.” 

“o-okay.” 

half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.

perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.

it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.

as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.

breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"

his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.

“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”

gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.

"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.

the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.

“what?”

“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”

“oh.” 

silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.

satoru can only watch, entranced.

“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.

satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.

but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.

his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.

you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.

"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.

“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.

you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”

“great, it’s a date!” 

good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.

maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.

[ddejavvu]

too add onto ur james potter cries until he throws up

he’d randomly remember how mean he was and immediately get down on his knees and apologise

it will be five months later and he just hangs his head in shame at the thought.

James is frequently dramatic, so you initially think very little of the sigh that he heaves against the crown of your head. You're content to keep scrolling- if he wants to explain himself, he will.

"Darling?"

There it is.

"Yes, Jamie?" You ask, peering up at him from the confines of your stuffy comforter, your phone momentarily set aside.

"Remember last November when we were arguing and I tried walking out and I told you I didn't wanna see your face for at least a week?"

Now it's your turn to sigh, "Yes, Jamie."

"I'm so sorry."

"Yes, Jamie. I know you are. You've told me."

"I know, but I just- I want to make sure you know I was talking out of my ass."

"I know," You smooth your hand across the plane of his hip, digging your fingertips into the plush of his ass as he yelps, "But y'make up for it by letting me squeeze it."

"Go ahead," He grits out, muscles tense as he buries his face into your shoulder, "I deserve it. Grope away, darling, have your way with me."

You're safe to roll your eyes at the absurdity of his sacrifice because his eyes are squeezed shut.

You lay two firm pats against his pajama pants with an air of finality, "You've paid your dues, James. You took me on a cruise vacation as an apology! You don't need to feel guilty anymore."

His sappy brown eyes meet your own as he drags his face out of your shoulder, "Are you sure? 'Cause I didn't mean it."

"Agh, I know!" You gush, taking his face in your hands and mashing your nose against his, "I know, I know, I know!" You plant a kiss on his lips that echoes slightly in its intensity, "I know you're sorry and I know you didn't mean it!"

"I love your face," He laments, keeping his own stuck to yours, "I really, really do."

"I know," You feel like a broken record, repeat-repeat-repeat, "I love yours too."

"Fuck, I'm so glad. Sirius says it's my moneymaker."

"That's 'cause he's never had a fistful of your ass, Potter."

[zephyrchama]

📞

(Obey Me! mini fic. Contains suggestive content but is overall SFW)

---

“How are my brothers doing?”

Lucifer’s voice sounded a little grainy over the phone. He must have been far away, or something somewhere was causing magical interference to the connection. It was nice that he had time to call and check in on things.

“Everything’s great,” you confided. Things had been really calm in his absence and you felt confident the house would still be standing by the time he returned home. “We just finished watching a movie. Belphegor fell asleep midway through, of course. Everyone else-”

“Hey…” Asmodeus interrupted, leaning into your shoulder and putting his cheek against yours. His voice sounded extra raunchy. “I told you, if you keep touching me like that…”

”Asmo, I’m on the phone.”

“You’re going to make me… Hnngh…” He dug an obnoxious smile into your shoulder while continuing to make questionable noises.

You were about to apologize to Lucifer, but a yell from the other room made you jump. Asmodeus tried to repress a giggle as Satan’s voice rang out, loud and clear, “Oh no! I just knocked over Lucifer’s cursed record collection!”

You hadn’t heard any crashes, nothing to indicate property damage had occurred. Thankfully, Satan’s good conscious wanted to keep you out of real trouble more than he wanted to torment Lucifer. That didn’t prevent him from sarcastically lamenting, “wow! I accidentally stepped on a bunch and crushed them even more! That sucks. Oh well.”

A deep inhale, and a deep exhale. You remained calm. They were messing around.

The chewing noises that had been a constant all evening were suddenly gone. You cast a suspicious glance at Beelzebub on the next couch over.

“We’re out of food,” he complained. The fridge had been filled to bursting that morning and there were two half-full bags of chips still in his lap. Belphegor lay face-down next to his twin with an open container of demonic chip dip balanced on his back.

“Don’t worry! Yer big bro’ll take care of everythin’! How many roasted griffon do you want delivered? Ten? Or should we go full catering?”

Mammon, back from his bathroom break, was fast on the uptake when it came to causing mischief. He wasted no time in flaunting money he didn’t have while Beelzebub decided now was a good time to eat those chips. Mammon made sure to stand right behind you so his voice would carry into the receiver. “I’m always takin’ good care of my little bros, aren’t I? Lucifer oughta put me in charge next time.”

Somebody snorted. You weaseled an arm out from under Asmodeus to rub your forehead. “Come on, guys.”

“Mammon, where did you find Lucifer’s backup credit card? I thought that was for emergencies only!” Leviathan cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. All the while, Satan kept shouting, “oops! Broke that, too!” and Asmodeus carried on with his lewd noises.

You held your mouth as close to the phone as possible, helplessly trying to block out the idiots. “You trust me, right?”

“Of course. I’m glad you’re taking care of things, everyone sounds like they’re having fun.” Rather than mad, Lucifer sounded amused. There was a fondness in his voice. “Though, if the house is truly in dire straights, I have no choice but to come straight home without stopping for souvenirs. Be sure to convey that for me.”

You were happy to announce, “Lucifer’s not getting you guys any souvenirs if you keep it up.”

The tomfoolery stopped immediately.

“Whuh?” “No way!” “Does that include picking up dinner?” “My limited edition goods!” “He can’t do that!”

The cacophony of complaints almost caused you to miss the grainy voice over the phone. It said, “I don’t like being away from you for this long. I’ll need you to give a one-on-one report of everything that happened as soon as I get back. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

There was a click, and the line went silent. You set the phone aside. The previously energetic gang looked anxious knowing that their big brother could be upset, even though they brought this upon themselves. Satan carried in a disc, in mint condition, muttering about how he found the sequel and will put it on.

“He’s still going to get us gifts, right?” Leviathan asked. You shrugged.

[cool-island-songs]

Analysis of ALNST Character Relationship Metrics

My art book won't be here for a minute, but I ran some screenshots I saw on twt through an image translator and have a lot of thoughts:

TILL: Despite claiming to hate everyone in the world, Till ranks Ivan at 70% intimacy even as he identifies perturbing behaviors of Ivan's going back years and refers to him as "a bother". He also ranks Sua at 10% in spite of having little to say about her and finding it uncomfortable to be around her.

Though he postures at being misanthropic and has all the manners you'd expect of a boy who was half off at the human child pound, he's actually quite gentle and sensitive. This is reflected in one of the graduation messages he's left by a classmate as well:

The person he feels closest to is an unattainable crush, and someone who doesn't feel that close with him in return, likely because he's too shy to really approach her or carry on a conversation.

MIZI: That's Mizi, of course, who's rather childlike and naive initially. She likes everyone, but since Till chokes when he tries to speak to her and often keeps his distance, she wonders if he's avoiding her because he dislikes her.

Mizi gravitates towards people who she sees as "perfect", which is how she describes Ivan and Sua in her graduation message to Ivan:

She doesn't see the darker side of Ivan's personality (which has been described on several occasions, even by himself, as "twisted") because he's attractive, successful, and helpful to her.

Though she likes everyone, Sua is her "God", and the only thing that can keep them apart is the tragedy of their situation, which forces Mizi to grow up in a brutally painful way.

SUA: Sua is far less idealistic and naive than Mizi, and has clearly thought about sacrificing herself to save Mizi, since Ivan picks on her for thinking of doing so in an official comic. Accordingly, her feelings about Mizi are far more tinged by the knowledge that they will one day be torn apart by external circumstances. She laments that reciprocating her feelings will one day cause Mizi great pain.

She's always been more somber, and despite her surface similarities to Ivan (which he notes in a follow-up comic wherein he realizes he was wrong about Sua's feelings for Mizi being unrequited), she's quite different on the inside. Sua's more sensitive and thus her colder exterior serves to protect her, whereas Ivan's outward persona creates an illusion of normalcy that doesn't reflect his reality.

Sua views Ivan and Till as a threat and a nuisance, respectively. Like Till, she senses something strange about Ivan, and when it comes to Till, it's just one person too many around for her. This is fascinating to me, because I thought she might pity Till! Her feelings about Ivan were already pretty clear from this panel of the 'piggyback' comic, and she seems deeply hurt in the first comic linked by his prodding.

IVAN: For his part, Ivan is fascinated by Till even though he's content to sit back and observe, pestering him to get a reaction or his attention for a brief time. He doesn't expect anything in return but wants more than anything to be on Till's mind (hence behaviors like stealing Till's belongings and returning them to him, pretending he had found them).

He prefers Sua to Mizi despite his awareness that Sua doesn't particularly like him, seeing her as a sister and even telling her she's "twisted" like he is. He likes Mizi well enough, especially her sincerity, but seems to find her optimism a bit much at times.

The fact that Mizi and the others would likely consider Ivan and Mizi quite close while Ivan does not reflects how much he postures even in his closest relationships. He struggles to connect with those he's most compelled by and it's not clear if he really wants to.

Some Ivantill thoughts before I go:

There seems to be a common sentiment that it's tragic Till was unable to see how much Ivan loved him, and I think we'll likely get more of Till's perspective on Ivan and their relationship in round 7. But it may not be the case that Ivan even wanted his true feelings to be seen, or would have known what to do if Till had reciprocated them.

There's something almost voyeuristic and self-negating in his feelings for Till (see: "I can’t reach you, so I imagine alone/You who shines, I stand next to you" from 'Black Sorrow'). He has far more self-awareness and willingness to accept things as they are than Till, who doesn't see that Mizi only has eyes for Sua and who would likely struggle to accept that reality.

Ivan, on the other hand, is well aware that his feelings for Till are "shallow", a bright fantasy to get him through his dark reality, and he seems to sincerely believe that his death won't scar Till because he's never really broken through to him. He's a schemer, and comments he makes in his graduation message to Till and the interview he gives in advance of round 6 suggest that he may have been planning to sacrifice himself for some time.

Part of me wonders if he hoped it would leave a mark on Till. Choking, kissing, and violently sacrificing oneself are all aggressive, forward acts, especially from someone who used to toy with people to get his kicks but was otherwise quite passive and unfeeling.

There are a lot of parallels in the one-sided loves, like Till acting out of his usual character for Mizi, and Ivan doing the same because of Till, putting all hopes of being saved in something just out of reach, staying in chains for that one special person. But Ivan's psychology is quite different from Till's, and in fact closest to Luka's re: low or no empathy. Both Ivan and Till are significantly traumatized by their upbringings but Ivan's difficult early life in the slums and his experience being dangled off that rooftop seem to have damaged his ability to connect to others or feel much of anything.

Till is the first person for whom he feels anything while for Till, Mizi is an early crush he puts on a pedestal in a much more commonplace way. I think the shared trauma of competing on that stage makes it much more difficult for either of them to imagine moving on, but Ivan is not wrong in identifying that he won't find that feeling again.

The thing that intrigues me most about this series is the way the contestants' differences play out, particularly with regard to how they view love and how they respond to their individual and shared challenges. I'd love to get into it further another time but this is quite long already so thanks for sticking with it if any have (haha)

[koimethehorizon]

Amazing Digital Circus Theory: Gangle is an NPC

Sooo, I wasn’t expecting to talk about this show. I was perfectly content to just enjoy Digital Circus as is.

It’s a show that invites theories as to what exactly’s going on with the setting and characters, but I didn’t have much room to think too hard about it. Who’s Abel? Is Pomni really a human? Why is this VR game emulating an N64 game at the start? I like the show plenty, but it just wasn’t as interesting to go hard on any of those questions at the time.

But with this recent episode… a single, perhaps throwaway line got the brain nagging. And it’s kind of a bizarre one to waste hours analyzing.

Okay, so yeah, it’s a joke on submissive and breedable. (Don’t give them ideas) But try taking it at face value.

What does he mean by this? Sure, Jax is an asshole, and being a bullied kid is Gangle’s whole archetype… but what if it means a little more than that?

Gangle’s trapped for all eternity this asshole and she’s just letting him boss her around. Zooble can choose not to participate, so no one has to. Why does Gangle listen to Jax at all?

Let's entertain a thought: Is Gangle an NPC?

With Episode 2 bringing so much attention to the autonomy of NPCs, it seemed natural to start pointing fingers at characters being this or that. But this isn't just a random crackshot, I feel that there is a story to tell here.

Look back at Pomni’s “orientation” with the other humans. Ragatha, Zooble, and Jax ease her by saying that they’ve been trapped in this world for years and then bring attention to Kinger being the oldest.

But Gangle… she’s isolated from the peanut gallery, busy moping about the broken comedy mask instead.

Every character has been given some hints as to how they’ve been coping with the situation. Jax no longer empathizes with anything, Ragatha once had trouble adjusting but now tries to stay happy, Zooble picks and chooses her involvement, Kinger is the eldest and just exists for the hell of it, and Pomni is new to everything.

With Gangle, it’s a blank. No opinion, no hints of her human side, how long she’s been here, no thoughts on the games, nothing. She’s just Jax’s punching bag.

Even Kinger gets a potshot on Gangle in a rock-paper-scissors game…. and he likely forgot that she doesn’t have hands!

And that brings me to another detail. Doesn't Gangle look different from the others?

Unlike everyone else, Gangle's just a mask and a ribbon. No hands or legs, or just any limbs in general. She stands out as looking a bit simpler than the others.

Gangle's most interesting design trait is that she's based on comedy and tragedy masks. The ones used old Greek theater to dictate the emotions of their characters.

The first episode seems to imply that with a broken comedy mask, Gangle literally can’t stay happy. Hence why we see her sad most of the time. That's a strange limitation if Gangle's human mind is supposed to be completely intact, especially with how expressive the other characters can be.

It's not delved into too much but does Gangle actually rely on these masks to "feel" emotions?

The obvious hole is that Caine would’ve just killed her a while ago if she was an NPC, but he's not exactly omniscient.

He even admits that he has to kill them off because it’s possible for him to lose track.

Now normally I could just stop here, but I’m all about the grand statements. You know, the retroactive readings of an episode once you get a theory going. Why does Gangle being an NPC matter at all? How does Ep 2 change?

While deep diving, I realized that the thematic core of Episode 2 is Pomni and Jax’s approaches to surviving the Digital Circus.

In Pomni’s A plot, we see her connecting with Gummigoo, the NPC that Caine pitted their group against. After discovering him lamenting his new reality, she finds a strange comfort in being existentially lost together. Because in the end the NPCs and the humans are just as displaced and frightened in this meaningless world.

In Jax’s B plot, he forces Gangle to follow some insane orders. Sabotage the game to let the big chocolate turd monster destroy the Candy Kingdom. To Jax, he is the main character. Helping or displeasing this giant population of fake people doesn’t have any consequence for him, so why humor anyone but yourself?

A bit of a stretch, but what if Jax already knows Gangle is an NPC and is keeping it quiet as long as Gangle follows orders, hence the “submissive” comment? He’d be a way more unpleasant character with this reading, but it doesn’t seem off the cards with how he treats everyone anyway.

This dichotomy already plays out well within the episode, but when reframing it as Pomni and Gummigoo vs Jax and Gangle, the parallel is a lot more interesting.

Make an NPC an equal, they die. But keep an NPC under wraps as long as they continue to obey you… they live.

The episode ends with a grim conundrum that NPCs can’t be together with the humans, not because of their differences but because they're just... not allowed to be. But what if one already in the group, proving that they’re just as capable as the humans to play the games and grieve loved ones together?

PS. Despite knowing everyone else's name, I actually forgot Gangle's until I started finding evidence for this intrusive thought. Sorry Gangle.

PSS. I couldn't fit this anywhere, but Gangle's door frame doesn't work as evidence against the NPC theory, because even the mannequins have their own rooms in that hallway.

[msbigredmachine]

Cheat Meal (Roman Reigns)

The OTC is hungry for a whole lot more than just good food.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Black fem OC

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Based off Roman's TikTok where he complains about his diet😂

Enjoy!

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

gif by @romanreigns

He shoves the last tiny piece of broccoli in his mouth and dumps the plate in the sink with a resigned sigh. The ‘breakfast’ will barely register inside his stomach but it’s the price he must pay to be in the shape he’s currently in, the best he’s ever been in. Even if it makes him miserable and slightly cranky until it’s time for his next bland meal in another couple of hours. 

Retreating to his bed at the back of the bus, Roman checks the time as he waits patiently for his wife to return from the diner across the road so they can head on to their next destination. They’re already running behind schedule with a near two-hour drive still to go. More excruciatingly, he’ll have to deal with the smell of greasy, albeit delicious food that he can’t even look at, let alone eat.

Minutes later, the sound of her perennially cheery voice floats through the air, followed by the driver thanking her for her generosity, having bought him his own breakfast. As the bus restarts its journey, the bedroom door slides open, and Roman does a double take. The yoga pants and tank top he swore he saw her exit the bus in has been replaced with one of his old t-shirts. Nothing else. The outline of her nipples betray her lack of brassiere and that fat, juicy ass of hers jiggles with every step she takes as she places a tray full of food on the dressing table, the small bedroom instantly filling with the aroma of a hearty breakfast. 

“Sorry babe, I had to wait a little bit for my milkshake,” Elise explains, piling pancakes onto a porcelain plate. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Baby, this is not how you were dressed when you left,” he points out, soaking her in as he sits up against the headboard. 

Elise giggles and settles down on the edge of the bed next to him. One glance at the contents of her plate - buttermilk pancakes smothered in butter and honey, a couple of sausage links and two thick strips of bacon - has Roman salivating. “That diet is really fucking with your head, babe,” she jokes, as he rolls his eyes. “I’ve changed into something comfier. All the better to eat my comfort food with.”

“Why you ain’t eating in the kitchen, then? You just gotta fucking tempt me, huh?” He’s not sure which one he’s talking about anymore; the food or her appearance. She looks good enough to eat every time, but she looks amazing either dressed down or in next to nothing. Like now.

Of course, nothing at all is his absolute favorite.

“Cuz I wanna share it with you. Sorry but I don’t have your discipline. Just a day on that dry ass, rabbit food ass diet of yours would fuck me up,” Elise gripes. “And don’t get me wrong. I’m so proud of you and what you’ve done with your body. You look carved from damn marble. But you’ve lost hella weight and it’s making your big ears stick out." She pouts. "I kinda miss my thick neck Daddy. There was more of him to climb.”

“You still climb me with zero problems. And I can’t eat this stuff. You know that,” he laments.

“You say that while you eye-fuck my bacon.” She picks up her fork, cuts into a pancake and daintily takes a bite before moaning in delight. The warm fluffiness of the pancake, the rich, sweet honey, the smoothness of the butter, all come together in her mouth, textures and flavors melding together as she chews and swallows. "Mmm, this is soooo good," she gushes.

Roman grits his teeth and growls sullenly, “I hate your ass right now.” 

“You’re making me feel bad.” Carefully balancing the plate in her grasp, she shifts around and straddles him, and he hisses at the way her ample backside seats flush on his crotch. Sure enough, she has no underwear on. “Daddy, have breakfast with me. You need to eat more. A couple of bites won’t hurt.”

Roman sighs heavily, smoothing his hands along her thick thighs that complement the rest of her thick body. “You know damn well I can’t say no to you when you call me Daddy.” It’s not a lie either. Three kids in three years and a closet full of Birkins, Louboutins and many other luxuries are proof of this.

Elise muses over her plate and selects one of the large strawberries topping the pancakes. “Let’s start with something sweet.” She offers it to him, seeing him relax upon realizing it’s something relatively healthy. “Eat,” she instructs.

Roman opens his mouth obediently, closing his eyes as the juice bursts on his tongue, some of it dribbling down his bearded chin. Elise grins as he moans in satisfaction, and she makes him eat the rest, his full lips streaked red from the fruit. Cheekily, she places her own lips on his, tasting the flavor for herself, and smiles triumphantly as he makes a surprised sound but deepens the kiss anyway, cupping the back of her neck to hold her against him.

“Oh, it’s like that?” he asks when she pulls away, light panting punctuating the air between them. His eyes sparkle with lust. “Thought you were only feeding me.”

“I’m multitasking.” Kissing him again, she stabs the fork into another piece of pancake, dipping it in honey and feeding it to him. She loves to do this. It’s her favorite form of intimacy. Her love language, if you will. Taking care of him, pampering him. Her gestures never fail to stir his heart, as well as other parts of his anatomy. “My sweet baby. Feel better? You’re not hungry anymore?” she teases him several bites after.

“Nope. Not for pancakes anyway,” he says. The words are cryptic and shrouded in mystery, that’s until his hand slips between her thighs. At her sharp, indrawn breath, he smiles darkly, flattening his palm so that he firmly cups her sex. “There’s another…delicacy…I wanna feast on.” 

Her husband is insatiable for her. Always has been, and she loves it. Feeling desired and wanted by such a beautiful, high-value man like him does wonders for her self-esteem and their marriage. But after one passionate, bed-rocking round earlier this morning and little food fueling him, she would think his energy is depleted. “Baby, you should rest,” she tries to reason, but he’s adjusting her already, forcing her to put her food away on the nightstand.

“I’ll rest after you come in my mouth,” is his curt, yet loaded answer. And just like that, her resolve is reduced to ashes.

He scoots his big self down the bed until she is seated on his face. Elise barely has time to collect herself when his calloused hands scrape her thighs and clutch her hips to hold her in place. Her body jerks as his tongue finds her folds in record time, lapping greedily. Heat instantly washes over her with a wave of nerves and lust as he works her with that unmatched skill that brings her to surrender. In mere seconds, she is lost in the pleasure, her pussy dripping from a mix of her juices and his saliva, all of it slurped up by his talented tongue.

"Fuck, Roman…” she moans, squirming on his face, her body ablaze. He’s so damn good at this shit, it’s damn near unfair. It feels like her whole pussy is in his mouth as he licks and sucks to his heart's desire. He tightens his arms around her thighs, his massive hands prying her open for further onslaught. The warmth of his breath, the prickle of his beard, his moans against her sensitive flesh has her mind spinning, prompting her to rock her hips in rhythm with his circling tongue, grabbing her breasts through her t-shirt for added stimulation. Her entire being hums with anticipation as her orgasm builds and builds. “Ro, I'm...I…oh fuck, Daddy,” she gasps, unable to string a simple sentence together in the state of bliss she’s in.

But of course, her husband knows exactly what she wants. What she needs. To give it to her, he works harder, incorporating his nose and chin, gliding them back and forth along her wetness, buoyed by the quiver of her thighs as he sends her over the edge. The explosion of her body is of seismic proportions, and Elise slaps her hand over her mouth to muffle her scream, bucking, writhing, whining as pleasure consumes her whole.

She’s still reeling as Roman carefully lifts her off his face and drags her back down. His mouth captures hers with a dizzying urgency, exchanging the sweet tanginess of her arousal. They lick and suck hungrily on each other’s tongues, his hand reaching up to curl around her throat making her pussy spasm with need, so much so that her essence begins to smear the center of his gray sweatpants. Roman looks down at her mess with a proud, arrogant smile, and he lifts his hips just enough to pull the stained pants down his legs and kick them off. He strokes his dick, long, thick and hard, for a few seconds before guiding it inside her.

“Get this dick, baby, c'mon,” he orders, his low, gruff command sending yet another tremble through Elise that he both hears and feels as her breath catches. They moan together as she sinks lower onto him, balancing herself with her hands on his bare, muscular chest. Her hips roll back and forth, grinding on him, keeping him pinned to the sheets while she chases down their collective pleasure. 

He fucking loves it when she’s on top. It allows him a holistic view of the body he's been obsessed with since the day they first met. His big hands roam her front, relieving her of her t-shirt so he can properly idolize her breasts, so plump and pillow-soft as he massages them, gleeful at the way her nipples harden from his touch. He then travels south to grab her ass, enjoying the round, supple cheeks flexing against his palms as she rides him. He grips each one possessively and proceeds to lift her up and down on him, bouncing her on his throbbing erection. 

“Fuuuuck...”

“Nah, you can take it. And not too loud now, we don’t need the driver hearin’ us again, hmm?” Roman taunts, squeezing her left cheek and spanking it hard, earning a yelp from her. His eyes are blown as he studies the expressions on her beautiful face. “My fine ass, sexy ass wife. Climb me like only you can, baby,” he encourages her with soft moans of his own.

Falling forwards, Elise tucks her face into her man’s neck, her breathy kisses warming his skin as she manages to maintain the pace he’s set for her. He’s so deep inside her, nearing her cervix it feels like, the sweet sensations amplified by their chests pressed together, his large hands caressing her with so much love and care and reverence while talking her through it with his deep, husky voice and dirty words. Years together and their lovemaking is still as earth-shattering as their first time, and she appreciates it more than he’ll ever know.

Roman kisses every part of her his mouth can reach, reveling in her increasing moans as he angles his hips, keeping his dick buried in the ocean of her cunt. “Leese, you feel so fuckin’ good…” he groans on her shoulder, licking the butterfly tattoo etched on her skin, “Damn, baby, I could stay inside you like this all day…”

Elise tries to agree with him, but her jaw drops when he bucks up into her without warning, his hands planted on her ass holding her down to take every inch of him. The depth, the intensity and precision of his strokes render her speechless. Her eyes roll back as his lips find her nipples, suckling the swells of her heavy breasts, the wet smacking sounds of his hungry mouth and her gushy pussy sounding around the bedroom. The shit is so good that neither wants it to end, more than content to just remain on the bus and fuck all day long.

"Daddy," she whines, her fingers sliding over the back of his hair, tangling in the long, soft locks as she locks hazy gazes with him. His brows are furrowed, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth; telltale signs that he’s close, just like she is. "Oh baby, I'm gonna come again..." she whimpers.

"Yeah? Is my girl about to nut?" Roman asks, grasping her chin and brushing their lips together. "Gimme that nut, beautiful. Soak Daddy’s dick with your wet ass pussy," he goads her with another kiss, another smack on her backside that makes her ride him harder. Her pupils are dark and dilated with desire, reflecting the passion he’s feeling. He wraps his huge arms around her middle, and pushing up on his heels, he accelerates, fucking her faster, thrusting deeper, until her moans dissolve to broken, breathless cries as she trembles on top of him. Her walls milk his dick greedily and trigger his own release. Roman’s groans and curses fill the room, his body shuddering too as he empties his load, filling her to the brim. 

With a soft whine, Elise melts on her husband’s heaving body, both parties spent but immensely sated. An eternity passes before either move, Elise reaching over Roman’s prone frame to grab a piece of bacon and pop it into his mouth.

“Good? There's more if you want,” she asks, watching him chew on it.

Roman sighs contentedly and rests his head on the pillow. “Mm-hmm. That's another couple added minutes on the treadmill though.”

Elise giggles and snuggles up against her action figure of a husband. “You’ll be fine. And you’re perfect to me already, by the way,” she assures him.

THE END

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

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[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

The unexpected rainfall

Imagine. It is a regular day in the Devildom. There was nothing too serious going on. But that's when it starts raining without you expecting it. How will the brothers react in this situation? Will things have a romantic turn or not? Find out!

Contains: Fluff

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

............................................................................

Lucifer

It was a long day at RAD. You had an exam and a few boring lectures so you were practically exhausted. When you finally exited the RAD halls you took in a deep breath and exhaled in contentment. You began walking down the street on your way back to the house of Lamentation when you suddenly felt a dropped on your cheek. You stop in your tracks and look up to see the cloudy sky while brushing the droplet with your thumb. And then another droplet falls. And a few more before it begun raining. It wasn't something too bad at first but soon enough it started pouring. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to snuggle up and began walking faster. That's when suddenly it stopped raining on you. You felt a hand on your lower back and you look behind yourself to see Lucifer – Covering you with his umbrella. He smiled gently at you before speaking up.

-Forgot to bring an umbrella today? –He asks and you nod.

-I didn't know it was going to rain.. –You mumble before the demon's arm wraps around you and he pulls you against his body.

-Well it works for me, because it seems like we will be walking together under my umbrella, hm? –The first-born teases. And you let out a subtle chuckle.

-Seems like it. –You say and look up at him as if you are expecting something from him. His smirk widens and he leans down to leave a gentle kiss to your lips.

-Come on, my love. –With that you and Lucifer walk home together with his arm wrapped around your waist. The walk home took longer than usual. The eldest wasn't on a rush to take you home. He much preferred having you close to him under his umbrella in the intimate setting. It was a way of showing the world that you were his lover.

Mammon

You and Mammon had gone to watch horse races and of course the second-born lost some grimm at it. He said it just wasn't his lucky day but if you go by that excuse every day is Mammon's unlucky day. And of course the demon was feeling under the weather. When you exited the building you were stunned to see that it was pouring outside. And neither of you had brought umbrellas. You stood there under the small shelter watching the rain when you suddenly felt Mammon grip your hand. You look towards him but he wasn't at his place anymore. That's when you felt the demon pulling you into the rain. You almost stumble at your feet to how fast Mammon was running.

-Hey! Mammon! Why are you running like that?!? It's pouring! –You shout out but the demon only laughs.

-Come on! Live a little! –Mammon kept pulling at your hand and you ran along with him. The rain was falling onto you, making your clothes wet. You look over at Mammon who had the biggest idiotic smile on his face while he was running hand in hand with you during the rain. Suddenly the second-born starter shouting.

-Woohoooo! This is awesomeeeee, come on, human! –You laughed and ran along with him. The street was quiet and the only sound surrounding you was the sound of the rain. There was this refreshing smell and humidity. You and Mammon were the only ones outside. Suddenly the demon stopped and pulled you close into a kiss. It was wet and passionate. After you pull away you look at his wet hair and reach up to ruffle it.

-Come on, babe! Let's go home. –The second-born pulls you again and you run home.

Leviathan

Levi had brought you to wait in line with him at an anime shop. There was a new anime figurine he wanted to get and the third-born was really excited. He was telling you all about it and its story when suddenly it started raining. It was a good thing that You and Levi were under a sheltered space so you wouldn't get wet. But the thing was he had finished his story about the figurine. So there you were. Standing in queue at an anime shop with the Avatar of Envy in complete silence while it was raining. You looked away from the demon at the rain when you heard him speak up.

-I brought my wired headphones.. so.. do you.. perhaps.. want to.. uhm.. listen to music with me? –Levi murmurs and you look towards him with a gentle smile at your face.

-I would love to! –You exclaim and watch a soft blush cover the third-born's cheeks. He pulls out his headphones, plugs them into his phone and hands one to you. You put it in your ear as Levi chooses the music. You begin listening to the song. It was one of Levi's favourites.

-Do you like it? –The demon speaks up and you nod.

-Yeah. I do. It's nice. –You smile and get closer to the third-born. He hesitantly wraps and arm around you and pulls you close. You look over at him and chuckle at the heavy redness on his cheeks. You pull him face towards yours and gently press your lips against kiss. He kissed you back! Though the movement of his lips couldn't match yours it felt nice. After you pulled away Levi pulled you into a hug. The music was bursting in your ears as you were standing in Leviathan's embrace. It wasn't long before you finally entered the shop but the intimate moment was worth it.

Satan

It was a rainy day outside. You were sitting in your room, scrolling through Devilgram. The day was boring. There was nothing interesting happening today and to your surprise the brothers weren't up to anything questionable today. Each of them was doing their own thing. All of a sudden you hear a knock on the door.

-MC? May I come in? –It was Satan. You smiled at the thought of having some company and you would be crazy not to accept him so you answered.

-Sure! Come in. –To your words you heard the door open and you saw the fourth-born enter with two cups of hot cocoa and a book in hand. You looked at him with questioning look.

-What have you got planned, Satan? –You ask and look into Satan's eyes and he winks.

-I figured your day would be boring so I decided to be your saviour. What do you say to a cup of hot cocoa and a book while listening to the sound of the rain? –The demon asks and you nod.

-It sounds lovely. –Satan chuckles to your answer and sits next to you, handing you one of the cups. It warms you hands and you smile as you see the little marshmallows floating into the brown liquid.

Satan grasps your chin and turns your head towards him. He places a soft kiss to your lips and you smile. Soon enough it ends and the fourth-born gazes into your eyes.

-Let me read to you. –Satan whispers and opens the book. You cuddle next to him on the bed and listen to his voice as if you were listening to an angel saying its blessing. You and Satan spend a quiet and peaceful afternoon.

Asmodeus

You and Asmo were on your way to Majolish. He said that the brand has a new collection so he just HAD to check it out. He brought you along with him since you had free time and you did say that you had interest in the new collection. Suddenly though on your way to the shop it started raining. It was soft at first but it began pouring down not long after. The fifth-born panicked and covered his face with his hands.

-Asmo? Is everything okay? –You ask in concern as you look at the panicked demon before you.

–No! Nothing's okay! I did my makeup so flawlessly this morning now this stupid rain is going to ruin it. Awhhhhhh. –Asmodeus whines and you look at his mascara pour down from his lashes. The demon sobs and tries to brush away the mascara but is unsuccessful.

Hey! Everything is okay! –You rush over to him and pull him into your embrace. He throws his arms at you and sobs at your shoulder.

-Why did it have to begin rainingggg! It's ruining everything! And my hair AND my make up! –He whines once again but you get a sudden idea. You pull away from him and cup his face with your palms. You lean in and press your lips to his. The demon stops sobbing and kisses you back passionately. Soon enough you pull away and the look on Asmodeus' face has completely changed. Now it's not a bothered and upset look, instead it's a lustful one filled with desire.

-Oh MC.. you always know how to calm me down. But it would be absolutely unthinkable to show up looking like that at Majolish. Let's go tomorrow. –The fifth-born says and pulls you along as you walk back in the rain. You go home and take a warm bath together.

Beelzebub

You and Beel had gone out for an ice cream. You waited long in the ice cream shop so they could bring a few dozens of each ice cream flavour for Beel and when they finally did you walked out of the building. You had no idea how the sixth-born was even carrying all of those cones of ice cream but he was so you just accept the absolutely mind-blowing sight. Suddenly though it started raining. Beel looked up at the sky, confused. Neither of you knew that it was going to rain today. Or... Well neither of you had checked the weather forecast. So there you were. With the ice cream under tha rain. You look around and notice a tiny sheltered space so you pull on Beelzebub's sleeve to get him to stay under the shelter. He looked at you with confusion in his eyes but you smiled at him ever so gently.

-We can stay underneath the roof until the rain stops and we finish our ice cream. –You state and look over at the demon with a loving gaze. He returns the look and smiles.

-Thank you, MC. I wouldn't want my ice cream to melt under the rain... –He shrugs and glances down at his ice cream. He begins eating it.. no.. devouring at as you eat yours without any pressure. By the time you finish your own you notice that Beel is licking his fingers. How in the three worlds did he manage to eat all that ice cream at the same time as your cone? This demon never ceases to surprise you with his eating.. or better said devouring abilities. All of a sudden you notice some ice cream on his lips and chuckle. The demon looks at you in confusion.

-MC? What are you laughing at? Is there something on my face? –He asks and you shake your head.

-Stay still.. I'll get it for you.. –With those words you lean in and kiss his lips, getting the ice cream with it. Afterwards the demon looks at you with the most innocent smile on his face.

-Thank you, MC.. for both.. for the kiss and for getting the ice cream away.. –Beel murmurs and you notice a tiny blush at his cheeks. You spend the next few minutes like that. Silently looking into each other's eyes. When the rain stops you walk back home, hand in hand.

Belphegor

You and Belphie were sitting on a beach at the park. Well... You were sitting.. The youngest was laying his head on your lap and was napping ever so peacefully. You smiled down at him as you patted his head and dragged your fingers to his dark blue-hair. It was almost like the demon was purring in contentment in his sleep. Suddenly you see a droplet fall on his forehead as the demon tenses up before falling back into peaceful sleep. You while the droplet away but you see another one. Soon enough you feel one on your hand so you look up at the sky to see the rain pouring down. You caress Belphegor's cheek in an attempt to wake him up but you are unsuccessful so you decide to pinch his cheek instead. When you do the demon stirs up in his sleep and softly wakes up.

-Hm? MC? What's up..? –He asks in a groggy voice.

-It's raining! Come on! Let's get going before we get wet! –You try to push him off of your lap but he groans.

-Five more minuteeeessss. –He whines but when he feels the rain on himself his eyes pop open. He immediately stands up and grasps your hand.

-Come on! Let's go! –You nod and the two of you walk as fast to the nearest shelter. Both of you lean against the wall and pant as he looks your way.

-The rain is too bad.. We'd be dripping wet when we make it home. It would be better to just wait for it to stop.. –He says and looks at you before turning his gaze to the rain. You sigh and walk up to him and snuggle up close.

-I'm cold.. –You whisper to which Belphegor wraps his arms around you tightly.

-Here.. Let me warm you up. –He leans down towards you and presses a soft kiss to your lips. When he pulls away he speaks in a gentle tone.

-Better?

-Definitely. –You remain in the youngest brother's embrace as you wait for the rain to stop.

[lonelystczennie]

Babysitting

San x Reader

Summary: San helps you babysit for the day, and let's a little secret slip.

Word count: 600+

Warnings: mentions of having kids, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I'm not the best at writing about kids, so I'm sorry if this isn't quite what you wanted.💙

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

When San came to pick you up for your lunch date, he thought it was slightly odd when you didn't answer the door right away, usually you tackled him in a hug before the bell had even finished ringing.

He considered ringing again, only to stop short when you opened the door, met by the surprising sight of you holding a baby who couldn’t be more than six months old.

“Did I miss something?” He asked, confused.

“No, this is Haru.” You explained. “My friend's babysitter canceled at the last minute, so I offered to look after her for the afternoon.” You adjusted your hold on the squirming infant. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called you earlier to reschedule, but it all happened so suddenly.”

“It's okay, we don’t have to reschedule.” He assured you, leaning down to stroke one of Haru’s chubby cheeks, instantly charmed. “Do you want some help?”

"Really?"

"Yeah, I like kids." He shrugged, cooing at Haru and making her giggle.

“Then yes, please.” You said, letting him in.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of feedings, nappy changes and trying your best to keep Haru content and happy, which turned out to be more of a challenge than you had expected.

You had been trying to put her down for a nap, but she was not having it, becoming increasingly agitated and crying.

“I don’t know what I'm doing wrong.” You lamented, almost in tears yourself at her distress.

“Can I try?” He asked, holding his hands out for the infant.

You passed her to him, watching warily as he tucked her against his chest, bouncing slightly as he walked round the room with her. In less than a minute, she had quieted, already beginning to doze in his arms.

“Why does she only stop crying when you hold her?” You asked, watching him in disbelief.

“She’s just got good taste.” He said, stopping when he caught your expression. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant-”

“I know, it’s fine,” You assured him. “I just…”

You didn’t finish the thought, pressing your lips into tight line, but he could read the worry in your eyes.

“You’re doing a good job, babies are just finicky sometimes.” He reassured you, thinking back to his own experiences looking after kids. “Don’t worry, it’ll be different with our kids.”

“Our what?” You looked up at him questioningly.

He froze again, eyes widening slightly as he realized his slip.

“I was just.. speaking hypothetically.” He said, unconvincingly, but you decided to let it go for the being, letting him bounce away from you again with Haru.

Later, after he'd managed to get her down for her nap and the two of you finally got to sit down together for a very late lunch, you brought up his earlier comment.

“So, you’ve thought about us having kids?” You asked, watching him carefully.

“I, uh… a little.” He admitted, glancing over at you nervously. “Is that bad?”

“No, it just surprised me a little.” You said. “I didn’t realize you thought about things like that for us.”

“I don’t, I mean, not really." He explained, trying to cover for himself. "It’s just one of those things that happens as a passing thought, you know?”

“Yeah, okay.” You said, grinning at his slightly flustered state.

“And it’s not like I wanna have them right now,” He insisted. “Just… maybe someday.”

"Maybe someday." You echoed.

It was quiet for a minute as you ate, before you decided to press him again.

“So how many do we have?”

“Three.” He answered immediately.

“Aha!" You exclaimed.

"What?!"

"It sounds like you've thought it about more than just a little!” You giggled, making him whine.

"Don't laugh at me!" He said defensively. “You asked me a question, what am I supposed to do, lie?”

“It’s cute though!” You said, still giggling.

At that moment, Haru decided to announce that she had woken up, crying loudly.

“I’ll go!” San said, jumping up quickly before you could say anymore.

You let him go, deciding you’d wait till after your friend had collected Haru to tell him how you'd thought about it too.

[nanawritesit]

Obey Me! Demon Brothers: You Getting Jealous of One of Their Fans and Pulling Them Away Protectively

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Anonymous said: “Hey when you have time can you please do a jealous MC so basically the context is that one of the brothers or undatebales (you can do both if you want) fans are flirting with then and mc grabs the brothers/undateables tie and pulls them down their level and say "sorry guys this demon is mine"”

Of course anon! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write this request! I think this is such an amazing idea and I had a lot of fun with it! I hope you have just as much reading it :)

There’s some slightly suggestive remarks from the brothers (because protectiveness and anger is HOT) but there’s no explicit NSFW content in this! Other than that I don’t think there’s any triggers to list!

———————

Lucifer:

He isn’t totally oblivious to how attractive he is. His own pride made sure that he knew just how good looking he was. He honestly just didn’t care enough to engage with the people that flirted with him. He would usually just be polite, then say he had a lot of work to do and walk off. However, this particular fangirl kept walking along beside him, complimenting him and asking him questions about his love life. She was wearing a RAD uniform, so he couldn’t just tell her to buzz off. He told himself to just keep walking with long strides, and soon he would be at the House of Lamentation. Finally, he arrived at the doors.

“Well if you’ll excuse me, I need to go inside now.” he told the girl, trying his hardest not to sound as annoyed as he really felt inside.

“Can I come in then?” she asked him suggestively.

“No. You can’t.” a new voice spoke from behind the two of them. They both whipped their heads around to see you strutting up the steps with purpose, arms crossed over your chest. You shoved past her and grabbed your boyfriend’s tie, ushering him inside. You looked over your shoulder before slamming the door in her face.

“Sorry girly, but this demon is all mine.”

After you locked the door behind you, you turned around to see Lucifer with his hands on his hips, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “Well that wasn’t very mature.”

“Like you didn’t do the same thing last week when that demon was hitting on me?” you demanded, an amused smirk painted on your face.

Lucifer sighed, then chuckled lightly as he approached you. He slid his large hands over your waist, and instinctively you crossed your wrists together above his neck. “I suppose we did make an agreement that we belong to each other.” He leaned down to give you a soft kiss, lingering for a little while. He then moved his lips to your ear.

“Pride suits you well my dear.” he whispered, knowing very well what he was doing to you. “Seeing you strut up those stairs and drag me inside really did something to me.”

“Oh? Would you like me to drag you upstairs and remind you who you belong to?” you asked, grabbing his tie again to bring him down to your level to kiss him again.

“Oi! Why is the door locked! You know I never bring a key!” a loud voice suddenly whined behind you, pounding demandingly on the front door.

“Damnit Mammon!” Lucifer grumbled, huffing over to the door.

Mammon:

You were both at the casino, like you were every other Friday night. Mammon had just gotten his allowance, and planned to use it well tonight, trying every slot machine and stupid card game he could. There was one machine in particular that had really pulled him in, and he had tried it ten times already to no avail.

“Okay, well I’m gonna go get us some drinks while you figure this one out.” you sighed, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. He just gave you a simple nod and went back to the game.

The bar wasn’t that far away from him, so it wasn’t that long before you had placed your order. As you waited for the bartender to fix your drinks, you heard a shrill, high-pitched voice next to you.

“Need some help with that machine?” it said. You turned around to see some succubus talking to Mammon, leaning up against the slot machine. Your teeth immediately grinded together, but you told yourself to keep your cool. She’s probably just one of the employees trying to swindle him, you thought to yourself.

“Try it if ya want, but I think it’s rigged.” Mammon sighed and backed away from the machine, seeming hardly interested in the girl.

You smiled to yourself. That was, until she pushed a few buttons and made a waterfall of grimm come out of the machine.

“Wow! That was amazing!” Mammon gaped, taking off his sunglasses to make sure he was seeing this correctly. He immediately knelt down to grab the grimm, then stopped himself. “Oh, did you wanna keep it?”

“Nah, you can have it.” the succubus chirped with a sickeningly sweet smile. “As long as I can get your number.”

At that exact moment, the bartender plopped your drinks down in front of you. You thanked him, then threw back your drink in one swift gulp. You grabbed Mammon’s drink and then quickly shuffled over towards them, stopping in front of him to face the succubus.

“Unfortunately, you won’t be getting that from him tonight. Or anything else on any other night. This happens to be MY demon.” you yanked down on his tie and kissed him roughly, moving your lips over his a few times. Mammon was absolutely flabbergasted, his eyes popping wide open and his face turning as red as a tomato. You pulled back suddenly, then wiped your lip with the back of your hand. You then shoved his drink into his hand before turning back to the succubus. “Now, I suggest you leave before things get ugly.”

The succubus scoffed and rolled her eyes, then turned on her heel and sauntered off. You couldn’t help the proud smile that curled up your lips.

“Babe, um… can we go home?” Mammon asked in a small voice, grabbing your hand softly.

You instantly turned back around in confusion. “Why babe? Didn’t you have an allowance to spend?” you asked.

“Well, I think this was more than I could make if I spent the whole night here...” He gestured to the pile of grimm still sitting in the slot machine. “Plus, um…. you were really hot just now, and I really need to do something about it.”

You laughed at your boyfriend, finally realizing what he was planning in his head. “You liked seeing me be territorial?”

He nodded frantically. “Uh-huh. I think it unleashed something in me and now I don’t wanna be in public anymore.”

“Well okay then.” you smirked, linking your arm with his and leading him to the exit. “But you’re buying me dinner with some of that grimm.”

Leviathan: 

You were both at an anime convention. Levi was in his Ruri-Chan cosplay, and he had even convinced you to dress up as Azuki-Tan, her loyal sidekick. While you wanted so desperately to make your boyfriend happy, it was very awkward lumbering around in a giant pancake costume.

“Babe, I need a break.” you confessed, pulling him to the side. “Will you be okay if I take a breather in the bathroom? I’m sweating profusely and this costume desperately needs aired out.”

“Of course MC! I’ll just wait over here! I’ve been wanting to look through this comic I got anyway.” he smiled, squeezing your hand lightly.

“Thank you, I promise I’ll only be a few minutes.” you told him, and he nodded before going over to sit on a nearby bench.

After you came back out of the bathroom, costume back on, you noticed another guy in a Ruri-Chan cosplay talking to your boyfriend.

“It’s so nice to meet you! The Ruri-Chan fan base is so small here in the Devildom!” Levi beamed innocently.

“I know right? Your cosplay is so much better than mine though. It looks so good on you….” the stranger complimented, raking his eyes over Levi’s body in a way that made you sick to your stomach.

“Babe, who’s this?” you asked, walking back over to Levi. His face instantly lit up when he saw you again, standing up to grab your hand.

“Oh yay, you’re back! This is (insignificant name,) he’s also a fan of Ruri-Chan!” He then turned to his new friend. “This is MC, my partner.”

The guy looked instantly displeased, giving you a passive aggressive smile but with judgmental eyes. “Nice pancake costume.” he sneered, chuckling at you. “You know, if my boyfriend wanted me to go to a convention with him, I would also dress up as his favorite character.”

You let out a cold chuckle, and Levi instantly knew there was no going back. He tried to put a hand on your shoulder, but you were already clunking past him towards the demon. “Well then it’s a good thing Levi isn’t your boyfriend. He’s mine.” you smirked, giving him a sickeningly sweet smile. “Not only is he my boyfriend, he’s my demon. We have a pact, and nothing you can do is ever gonna change that.”

You then grabbed Levi by the bow around his neck and started walking away. “Oh and by the way…” you began, looking over your shoulder one last time at the surly demon. “Her name is Azuki-Tan, not pancake.”

Once you were a fair distance away, Levi immediately started fangirling. “Wooooah MC! That was amazing! You totally have the potential of a yandere protagonist! The envy was radiating off of you!” he gushed.

You giggled, then looped your arm through his. “Only you could think I look badass in a pancake costume.”

“I’m serious MC! It was totally cool how you told him off! And… I kind of like being thought of as your property…” he confessed, looking at you with a slight blush.

You stopped in your tracks to raise your brow at him with a cat-like grin, then clicked your tongue and continued walking. “Wait until we get home to get all suggestive. It’s hard to feel hot in this get-up.”

“You always look hot to me.” he smiled, kissing you on the cheek before continuing to walk through the convention hall with you proudly on his arm.

Satan:

You were on a date at the local cat cafe, having a great time taking pictures with all the cute cats and enjoying your delicious coffees. It was so rare to see him with such a genuine, joyful expression on his face. Then again, the only time he wasn’t entirely consumed with wrath was whenever you were around.

After a little while, you announced that you had to go to the bathroom. Upon your return, you saw one of the waitresses in a cat-maid uniform leaning her elbows on your table in front of your boyfriend. He was obviously uncomfortable, going stiff in his seat and petting the cat in his lap as a clutch.

You decided to hang back for a bit and observe the situation. Maybe she was just trying to get a good tip, or maybe it was part of the restaurant’s appeal. You didn’t want to make a scene without knowing for sure that she was after him.

“You seem to like that cat there.” the waitress chirped, pointing to the cat in Satan’s lap.

“Yeah, he’s very cute.” the blonde demon said flatly, “He was all over my partner a second ago.”

“Partner?” she inquired.

This was it. Her reaction would show you exactly what her intentions were.

“Well maybe they can go home with the cat and I can go home with you. I’m a much cuter kitty, don’t you think?”

Oh hell no. That was enough. You strode up to the waitress and pulled her back by the fake cat ears on her head, placing yourself between her and Satan. “Back off you discount hello kitty! That’s MY demon you’re flirting with!” you seethed.

The girl was instantly frightened and scampered away to the other side of the restaurant. You smirked evilly to yourself, then turned around to see Satan looking at you expectantly.

“What? I didn’t push her THAT hard.” you said defensively.

“I know.” he chuckled. “I would’ve pushed her harder.”

You laughed at him, then sat back down across from him. “Well, that’s why you’re the Avatar of Wrath.”

“I don’t know, you might give me a run for my money. You were pretty furious just now.” he remarked, that signature cynical grin on his face.

“Just give me that cute cat back.” you demanded, holding your hands out to the little ball of black fur that Satan was holding.

“Fine, but I’m not letting this go forever. Your anger is captivating my dear.”

Asmodeus:

You and Asmo weren’t technically dating yet. You were in some sort of friends with benefits stage where you fooled around together but hadn’t yet had a conversation on whether or not you were exclusive. And you thought you were fine with the way things were. That was, until you were at The Fall Club watching him dance with some random guy.

“MC, if you don’t like it you should say something.” Solomon commented from his spot next to you, no doubt trying to stir the pot. “Glaring at them isn’t going to do much.”

“What am I supposed to say Sol?” you asked perplexedly. “You want me to stride up to them and say ‘Hey stop dancing with him because he might be my boyfriend soon?’”

“It would certainly be effective.” the sorcerer grinned. He then placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Or you can just sit here with me the rest of the night feeling miserable.”

You groaned before plopping your head on his shoulder. “You’re right. You’re always right, and I’m sick of it.”

“That’s why I’m your best friend.” he chuckled, then nudged you forward with his shoulder. “I’ll buy you a drink if you can do it successfully.”

You reluctantly came to your feet at Solomon’s action, turning to the dance floor. You thought it was going to be difficult, but as soon as you saw the way that guy was looking at Asmo, something snapped in your reserve.

“Hey-“ you began, tapping the stranger on his shoulder. He flipped around to look at you, then flashed you a charming smile.

“Hey sweetheart, how’s it going?” he practically purred, instantly shifting his interest onto you.

Was this guy for real? He was all over Asmo just a second ago, and now he was trying to get with you too? You just stood there in disbelief for a moment. But Asmo didn’t seem too upset. He seemed more interested in what you would do next, his expression curious and focused.

You shook your head and came back to reality. “I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s MY demon you’ve been dancing with. I’m sorry, but you can’t have him. He belongs to me.”

The handsome stranger instantly looked shocked, gasping a little bit with his hand over his mouth. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know you guys were a thing!” He looked between you and Asmo for a moment. “You guys make a hot couple though. Do you need a third?”

“Dude, get out of here!” you exclaimed, half in annoyance and half in laughter. The guy just threw his hands up in the air in surrender, then strode away from the both of you.

You started to pivot on your foot to face Asmo, but before you could complete the turn he had you locked in his arms. One hand was pressed against the small of your back, and the other was clutching the back of your neck, titling your head up to face him.

“My darling MC…” he uttered, looking into your eyes with a hypnotically admiring gaze, “If you wanted me all to yourself, all you had to do was ask.”

“Then, can I please be the only one you dance with?” you practically begged, mirroring the desperation and passion you felt radiating off of him.

“You’ll get all my dances, and everything else I have to offer.” he reassured, now just mere centimeters away from your face. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, consuming you in a kiss that was so electrifying it made you dizzy.

“Although…” he continued after he pulled back, resting both hands on your hips, “I don’t feel much like dancing anymore… I’d rather take you home and show you just how much I belong to you.”

“Give me a few minutes.” you winked, ruffling his hair a bit. “Solomon owes me a drink.”

Beelzebub:

You and the brothers were all in the bleachers watching him compete in a Fangol tournament, cheering him on as the game came to a close in his team’s favor. As you all made your way down the steps to congratulate him, you noticed one of the cheerleaders crowding him. She was jumping up and down in front of him, gushing shamelessly at how amazing he was, and tugging on his arm. Sweet Beel didn’t want to be mean, but you could tell he was uncomfortable by the way his eyes kept shifting towards you.

“What should we do?” Mammon asked, not quite knowing how you felt about the situation.

“As if you need to ask. MC is going to eat her alive.” Satan chuckled.

“MC please…” Lucifer said putting a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

You all turned your attention back to Beel and the cheerleader. Suddenly, she jumped up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ve changed my mind. Get rid of her MC.” Lucifer scowled at the sight in front of him.

That was all the approval you needed as you leapt down the steps two at a time towards your boyfriend. Asmo was pulling out his phone to record you, Levi was covering his eyes anxiously, and Belphegor was suddenly wide awake leaning up against the fence to watch you.

You grabbed the cheerleader roughly by the arm and spun her around so that you were in front of Beel. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to kiss other people’s boyfriends?” you grumbled dangerously.

The girl just giggled and twirled her hair round her finger, feigning innocence and stupidity. “Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t know you guys were together. It’s just that I pictured Beel with someone so much better than you!”

You bit your lip and looked away with a low chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t wanna get into this with me girl…”

“MC, you don’t need to do this…” Beel reminded you, placing a hand softly on your shoulder.

“Yeah you do.” she challenged, suddenly pushing you forward with so much force that your back slammed against Beel’s chest.

As soon as she put her hands on you, it was fair game. You instantly sprung back up and leapt forward, pinning her to the ground in a flash and rendering her motionless.

“Listen to me. Beel is my demon. You will not touch him, or talk to him, or kiss him. Is that understood?” you growled in a scarily calm voice.

The cheerleader just nodded pathetically, and after you let her up, she grabbed her pom poms and ran off.

The other six brothers instantly erupted into applause against the fence, cheering congratulations at you just as they had done for Beel when he won his tournament a few minutes ago.

You gave them an appreciative smile, then turned back toward your boyfriend. “Beel, I didn’t mean to ruin your victory. I’m so sorry if I did. But I couldn’t just do nothing.”

Beel looked at you with a poker face, and for a moment you thought he was angry with you. But suddenly, he lifted you up in the air and swung you around with a playful smile on his face. You were both giggling uncontrollably, until he rested you in his arms comfortably.

“Oh babe, you always handle these things so well.” he joked, forehead pressing up against yours.

“Hey, I’m the only one who’s allowed to kiss you!” you stated, throwing your arms up behind his neck. “In fact, I think I’ll exercise my rights now.” You raised your face up to his and captured his lips in a short but passionate kiss. “Congratulations babe.”

“Thank you. But I’d rather you pin me down instead.” he grinned, leaning in for another kiss.

“Oi! Can you guys quit making out so we can go home?!” Mammon suddenly yelled from his place behind the fence, earning him a slap upside the head from Lucifer.

Belphegor:

It was one of Lord Diavolo’s numerous balls, and Belphegor had only showed up because you wanted so desperately to arrive as a couple. However, after a while of socializing, drinking, and dancing, he needed a little break. There was a dark and secluded hallway that he usually crept away to during the parties at the castle, with a comfortable couch for him to nap on. You noticed he was fading in and out of consciousness, and decided to pull him aside for a moment.

“Belphie, it’s okay if you want to go lay down for a bit.” you reassured warmly, squeezing his hand softly. “I’m just happy you came with me! I’ll be okay out here, I’ll just chat with Asmo for a while.”

He smiled at you lovingly. “You’re the best. I’ll be in the usual spot, you can wake me up in fifteen minutes.”

After the fifteen minutes had passed, you made your way out of the ballroom and up to Belphie’s secret hallway to wake him up. However as you were about to turn the corner, you heard someone already doing so. You hid flat against the entrance to the hallway to listen to what was going on.

“Huh? Who are you? You’re not MC.” you heard your boyfriend mumble groggily.

“We’ve never officially met before. I’m in your potions class, and I just have the biggest crush on you.” a man’s voice explained with a hopeful lilt.

“Oh, well I’m very flattered but I already have a partner.” Belphegor said back with a yawn.

“I don’t see them anywhere…” the man cooed, and then you heard loud shuffling from both of them.

That was enough for you. You instantly whipped around the corner to see the man trying to hold Belphegor down to kiss him.

“Get off of him!” you shrieked, sprinting up to them at full speed. You pushed him off of Belphegor and grabbed him by the shirt. Once you got a good look at his face, you scoffed. “Ugh, I should’ve known it was you.”

“MC, you know this guy?” Belphegor asked, standing up behind you protectively.

“Yeah I do, this is the guy who’s always rude to me in my history class. I thought it was weird how I always caught him watching you sleep and following you around the hallways. Guess he was just jealous.” you let go of his jacket, tossing him backward a little bit.

“I love Belphegor more than you ever could!” your classmate cried out, stumbling backward.

“That’s too bad.” you pouted dramatically. “Because Belphegor is my demon. And if you ever put your hands on him again, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do.”

The man just stomped his foot frustratedly and ran off crying. You shook your head at his silhouette disappearing at the end of the hallway, then took Belphegor’s face in your hands. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you did he?” you asked, glancing over his features.

“No, I’m okay MC.” he chuckled, grabbing your wrists affectionately. “All thanks to you. You’re my hero.”

“And you’re mine.” you smiled back at him before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

When you pulled back, his head lunged forward a bit as if he was yearning for more of you. He laughed at himself, then cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose we should get back to the party?”

You shook your head with a warm smile. “Nah, I’ve had enough of the ball scene for tonight. Let’s go back home and cuddle in the attic, hm?”

“You’re seriously the best partner ever.” he sighed, kissing you again.

[ddejavvu]

Hii, I hope you’re having great day/night. I just wanted to say that I absolutely love your Aaron writing, especially Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader. I read your requesting rules and I hope that this qualifies (I’m really sorry if it doesn’t), but I’ve been thinking about this concept for a while so I thought I’d give it a try. I absolutely adored how reader’s child always adored Hotchner but this time I was thinking what about reader’s daughter (around 4 or 5) who actually feels intimidated by Hotch (because you know this ‘scary bossman persona’) or maybe reader’s daughter that is not the biggest fan of Hotch and is possibly very sassy with him and is protective of her mum but reader and Hotch have this slightly flirty or like the very beginning of their relationship with a possibly fluffy/happy ending if that’s possible.

You really do feel bad knocking on Hotch's office door at 7:30 in the morning, for both your sleepy daughter and your formidable boss. He's a kind man, you know that with all of your heart, but to your tiny four-year old, he's tall, mean, and scary.

"Come in," Hotch calls, his voice muffled through the door. At the sound, your daughter curls tighter into your embrace, whining pitifully through the blanket that she's wrapped around her head.

"I know, Olivia," You hum, trying to soothe her nerves, "Just for a minute. You can sit on the couch, that's all."

She squirms in your hold while you open the door, smiling hesitantly when Hotch looks up from his paperwork to find you cradling your groggy daughter.

"She's got a cold, and the sitter cancelled," You lament, "And- uh, I need to use the bathroom."

You're constantly surprised at how strongly Aaron cares for children, because someone with his scowl doesn't seem the type. But his eyes flash with worry, and he leans back from his desk in his chair, "Do you think she'll let me hold her?"

Olivia writhes in your hold, a firm no.

"It's okay," You hum, kissing her head though it helps little, "It's okay, baby, I'm gonna put you on the couch, okay? Get cozy with your blanket," You hum, laying her on the cushions before she has the chance to curl her fingers into your blouse and never let go, "And just try to sleep, I'll be back in just a few minutes, okay?"

She moans something that sounds an awful lot like 'not okay!' but you can't afford to listen, not when your bladder is making its contents uncomfortably known.

"Okay, I'll- I'll be right back," You promise Hotch, straightening your clothes that were wrinkled by your clingy daughter, "I'm sorry about this, I'll make sure she's at home tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," Hotch urges, "Go, I'll make sure she's okay."

"Thanks," You grin, exhaustion seeping over your features after the long, nearly sleepless night you'd had. You duck out of Hotch's office with no further delay, rushing over to the elevator bay and the bathrooms on the other side of it.

"Olivia," Hotch hums after a moment of silence where the little girl tries burrowing between his couch cushions to escape his presence, "Did your mommy give you medicine already?"

She's scared, but she's still polite.

"Yes," She calls, from inside of her blanket cocoon, but there's no further response.

"Alright," Aaron hums quietly, fingers fiddling awkwardly with his pen, "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"No."

'Okay. Just... let me know if you need anything, okay?" He calls, any foolish hope he'd had of connecting with the little girl seeping out of his chest when she doesn't answer.

--

Thirteen minutes. It takes you thirteen minutes to get through the line outside of the restroom, who knew this place would be so packed early in the morning? It takes you longer still to actually use the bathroom, and you're teetering on twenty minutes when you jog back up the stairs of Hotch's office to collect your sullen kid.

You don't bother knocking, too rushed to get inside and apologize for sticking Hotch with your sick, terrified toddler for almost half an hour, and to apologize to Olivia for abandoning her with the big scary man who tells you what to do all day.

But Hotch isn't displeased with your rather impolite and abrupt entrance, staying silent as he peers over the blanket hood that Olivia has fashioned for herself. She's held against his chest, her clammy face tucked against his tie. His arms hold her tight and close, and he bounces her ever-so-slightly up and down as he soothes her whiny cries.

"Your mommy's here," He hums, craning his neck down to peer at her, and you're still partially frozen in shock at seeing Olivia cradled up in the arms of the man she runs from at dinner parties, "Would you like to see her?"

Olivia's responsive whine is less-than-clear, neither a yes nor a no. But you advance anyways, eyes surely showcasing your surprise at Hotch's sudden success with your daughter. Upon closer inspection, her tiny hand is gripping his tie tightly, the way that she holds the collar of your shirt when she doesn't want you to let her go. She's all bundled up and sniffling against his chest, surely feeling the symptoms of her cold that the medicine didn't cover.

"My poor baby," You lament, leaning down to kiss her forehead. It puts your face tantalizingly close to Hotch's own, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't feeling some butterflies through your stomach at the sight of him bouncing your baby girl in his arms, "Will you come with me? We can go sit at mommy's desk, and you can go to sleep."

This time, you understand her response.

"No!" She whines, desperately burrowing further into Hotch's warm embrace, "I'm- tired!" She sobs, voice raw from crying, "I want to stay!"

Before you can figure out how to bargain her out of Aaron's arms and into your own he shushes her, leaning down to kiss her feverish temple like she's his own. The sight flips your stomach even further, and you're very glad Aaron can't read your mind at the moment.

"It's okay. You can stay here if you really want to. Are you sure?" He squeezes her to prompt a response, but the only one she gives is nodding her head and pressing her face into his tie.

"Hotch, I'm sorry-" You start, but he smiles kindly, warmly up at you.

"It's alright. I can keep her in here for a bit, if you want to get started for the day."

"But you've got work to do. And you might get sick," Your shoulders slump, because even though you're thrilled that Olivia has finally seemed to get over her Hotchnerphobia, you don't want to push your luck after being fifteen minutes late to retrieve your daughter that isn't supposed to be here in the first place.

"Easy paperwork," Hotch waves it off, smiling as Olivia readjusts her grip on his tie, "Just signatures, really. I've got time. Plus, if I'm gonna get sick, it'll probably be from Jack. He brings home germs from school all the time."

"That's their special talent," You muse, stroking a hand over Olivia's wispy hair, "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure, Y/N," Aaron nods, continuing to bounce her lightly in his arms with a fond grin while her eyes remain loosely shut, "I finally got her to like me - I'm not sure I'd be able to put her down if she did want to go with you."

[onyourowndaisymae]

unicorn bandages - alt. version

this has been sitting in my drafts awhile. someone requested some lucifer hurt/comfort (that i haven't got around to yet) and i wrote this, only to realize this didn't exactly hit the mark when i finished. but i figured it's cute, so i might as well post it

word count: 1145

content + warnings: playful/smartass lucifer, general fluff, minor physical injury, general mentions of embarrassment

you need to learn to be more careful.

that's what you think as you walk the rest of the way home to the house of lamentation, lost in your own thoughts. the gentle searing pain of your skinned knee was enough of a punishment-- did you brain have to keep replaying the memory of you tripping in the middle of town, too? being clumsy and wearing shorts were both incompatible with your plans today, yet here you are, looking foolish and feeling exposed from your mistake.

the blood had long since dried against your skin. you felt sticky and gross, yearning now for a shower and a place to hide from your lingering embarrassment. did anyone from RAD see you eat shit outside that shop. ugh, and they way nobody helped you up, how you awkwardly stumbled to your feet and-- ahhh!! please, no more!!

the familiar creak of the front doors announced your arrival to the house of lamentation. you shuffled inside awkwardly, head hung, staring at your feet to avoid another tumble. even the book you bought on your day out couldn't console you enough to block out the invisible judgement you felt.

"what is that?"

you lifted your head to find lucifer stopped in the archway to the living room, eyes narrowed at you.

"huh?"

"what is that?" he repeated. "what happened to your knee?"

"oh. i, uh, i fell on my way home and scraped my knee. i don't-- i'm fine. it's just a scrape."

you felt the urge to shy away from his stern gaze, to hide your little scrape from his prying eyes and pretend it never happened. he looks at the wound for a few moments longer before meeting your eyes.

"will you sit down on the stairs for a moment, mc?"

"it's not that big of a deal. it just need to be wiped off, nothing special."

"then surely you'd be okay with me cleaning it for you? since it's such a minor injury."

you couldn't think of much else to argue. he gave you that smug half-smirk he saved for minor victories such as this and disappeared from sight. you shuffled to the stairs and sat, slumped in defeat, as he presumably went to fetch some first aid supplies.

the avatar of pride returned as quickly as he left, this time with a small black box in his hands. a small gesture of his hands urged you to stretch the injured leg out to give him better access. gloved hands busied themselves digging through unidentified supplies.

"what happened?" he asks, quietly, as he pulls out what looks like a cotton pad and some sort of cleaning agent.

"i was... i went out to get this book satan recommended. y'know, because he always wants to talk about what he's reading." he nodded and you continued. "so i decided to grab it while i was out. apparently there's a hole in the sidewalk out front, because as i was walking out, my foot got caught and i-- ow!"

your cry of pain was almost indignant as lucifer interrupted your story by cleaning the wound. the sharp sting of something akin to but not quite isopropyl alcohol lit your knee on fire. had the scrape really been that bad?

"the bacteria in the devildom is a bit more aggressive than in the human realm," he explained, softer look on his face than a moment ago. "we wouldn't want our favorite human getting sick from an accident like this, would we?"

as if he was trying to apologize, lucifer brought your knee closer by the back of your leg and gently blew on the wound to alleviate some of the pain of the cleanser currently working its magic. it was nice. for a moment, he was lucifer, big brother, not the avatar of pride he embodied in public. his fingers fiddled with pulling and stretching your skin to ensure each inch was properly wiped clean. there was a certain level of sincerity to his movements that made you smile.

"did you do this a lot when your brothers were growing up?"

"you have no idea."

that makes you laugh. he smiles, just a little, before continuing.

"angels are supposed to be resilient. their skin is thicker than a human being's, so they shouldn't get hurt as easily. and yet training my younger brothers was-- well, it was quite the event."

"i'm gonna guess mammon was the biggest pain?"

"definitely mammon." a fond smile. he wiped a cotton pad across your busted knee before continuing. "every time i saw him, he was always covered in bruises and scrapes. i could never quite get him to admit that he'd got them wandering off in pursuit of his younger brothers."

"that sounds a lot like him."

lucifer picked up a small tin containing the bandages. these must have been picked out by asmodeus-- instead of the usual plain design lucifer always grabbed, these were bright and colorful with unicorn designs. the avatar of pride only offered a small sigh before pulling an adequately sized one out and applying for you. in a few moments, what was a terribly embarrassing memory had been sealed from the world behind two unicorns hopping in unison over a rainbow.

"aren't you going to kiss it better?"

your sarcastic question was followed by your mischievous little smirk. maybe you shouldn't have teased him while he was in such a good mood. his eyes narrowed a bit before, to your surprise, his smirk mirrored your own.

you open your mouth to play off your joke, but lucifer's already lifting your knee to his mouth. your whole body is sliding uncomfortably off the stair step-- karma sure is efficient-- as his lips hover above your knee. lucifer's lips brush the top of your bandage. he makes an obnoxious kissing sound to honor your request before unceremoniously dropping your leg, leaving you sprawled in an odd position on the steps.

"i was kidding," you whine.

"my apologies. i just wanted to make sure you healed correctly."

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

the avatar of pride is quick to repack the first aid kit and rise to his feet. you reach out for his hand to help you up. in a bout of playfulness, he instead high fives your open palm, small smirk dripping with sarcasm. of course you had to catch him in a good mood. you sigh dramatically. this time, his offer to help you stand was genuine. a quick tug of your hand and lucifer had quickly pulled your fragile human body off the steps.

"careful, mc. wouldn't want you to fall again."

"i think you'd enjoy it, actually. sadist."

"... you're probably right."

"huh?!"

your cry is indignant as he begins to exit. you chase after him without hesitation. that smirk on his face meant he was joking, right?

[cosmicvenusnebula]

⋆☾⋆ Meme post ⋆☾⋆

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Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor x Gn!Reader

Au: Canon Universe

Description: Random scenarios with the demon bro's, most of them revolve around gaming.

Contents: Fluff, Cussing, Silly Anger and Angst, Silly Writings,

Word Count: 940 words

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♥ Lucifer ♥

"No. Absolutely not."

"Come on Lucifer pleaseeeee! Just this once!" You beg, trying to convince the eldest brother to indulge in your interests for once.

"I have better things to do than play video games" Lucifer says with venom, what would Diavolo think if he slacked off to play games with some human?? Lucifer couldn't risk it, so he continued to go through the stacks of paperwork on his large desk.

"Afraid you would lose old man? Too pussy to play against a human?" You knew you were playing with fire by insulting him, even playfully, because if Mammon had said that he would be tied upside down, hanging from a chandelier somewhere in the house of lamentation.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?!" ... Uh-oh. "You've got some nerve, I just hope that nerve is brave enough to groom Cerberus after you lose." Lucifer stands up from his desk, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the common room where the shared gaming console is.

♥ Mammon ♥

"Huh?! You think you can beat the Great and Powerful Mammon at gambling?? HAHAHA ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS??" The demon of greed almost keels over from laughter, slapping his knee at the joke he thinks your making.

"Yes, I am completely and utterly serious. How about this, winner not only gets all the money, but also the title of Devildoms best gambler, and loser has to slap Lucifer in the face." You smirk, knowing Mammon will do anything to win as the embodiment of greed, he wins at everything when money is involved. However, you have a trick up your sleeve.

You talk the rest of the brothers into playing poker with you and Mammon, except for the eldest. They are all willing to cheat and help you with your little trick just to see the chaos unfold when he has to slap Lucifer.

The whole game, everyone gets amazing cards, everyone except for Mammon. Unfortunately for him, you use your pact to force him into placing down his cards every time, losing more and more money until he eventually loses the game, and all the brothers immediatly forfeit after that, leaving you as the technical winner.

~ ~ ~ Not long later ~ ~ ~

"MAMMONNNNN COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT, I'M GONNA TEAR YOU APART AND FEED YOU TO BEEL"

♥ Leviathan ♥

You just got a brand new video game, one that is only available in the human world, but due to Diavolo favoring you, he found a way to get it in Devildom stores for limited time.

"How....how did such a normie get this game down here!"

"I asked Diavolo...."

"And he agreed? He went through that much trouble to give a normie some random video game? OMG Lollllolollol! *random video game ramble*"

"Just put the damn game in and turn on two controllers."

♥ Satan ♥

"She's mine Lucifer!" Satan yells, dragging you out of Lucifers office. "W-We were just playing Chess, what the hell are mad about?"

"I'm mad that you are alone with a man like Lucifer. I don't want him rubbing off on you."

Satan drags me away from Lucifers room, dragging you like he is holding you hostage. He takes you back to your room, securing you on his lap as you watch documentaries.

"You didn't have to drag me away from your brother. I get you hate him, but my god- "

"It's just...we are so similar I don't want to see you fall for him instead."

♥ Asmodeus ♥

"Really~? You wanna play with me~? I guess it was only a matter of time before you fell for my charm~"

"A-Asmo....I meant the succubus rpg game-"

"Oh...well thats a lot less fun. Oh well! Lets go play."

Once you go to your room, you get the game up and suddenly Asmo pulls you into his lap. "Uhh? What're you doing?"

"Just getting comfortable. I can't stand being without your touchhh~" You just ignore him as both of you begin to set up your characters.

♥ Beelzebub ♥

"Nonononono!!! Beel that isn't food!" You freak, trying to get the candle out of his hands.

"Huh? But it smells good." Beelzebub pouts at you, and you feel like you've just kicked a puppy.

"Just, put that down darling." I put my hand over his and lower it back down onto the table, making him drop my scented candle. "Lets go get you some cheeseburgers." Beel nods ferociously, mouth already drooling at the thought.

You take him to the 24 hour magic food place in-between the campus housing. Their menu is anything you want, they use magic to conjure up the tastiest version of what you request.

"Feel better?" You ask, smiling softly at his silly nature. "Very much. Thank you Mc." He talks with his mouth full, shoving as many cheeseburgers as he can straight into his stomach.

♥ Belphegor ♥

"Belphiiieee, wake up!" You try to shake the sleepy demon awake, wanting to show him a new game you bought for your Devilswitch.

Suddenly his tail wraps around you and he pulls you into his bed with him, his chest against your back. He rests his head on your shoulder, slightly opening his eyes enough to see your switch. "Mhm, nice. How did you get the money for that?"

"I sweet-talked Leviathan to buy it for me, he wanted it to and it has a co-op option so."

"You could have asked me. I never spend any of the money I get, too tired to ever go out."

"I tried, you wouldn't wake up."

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I hope you guys enjoyed! It's 1am and I just wanted to get a quick debut fic out! This is my first fic on this account :)))

[haosweater]

waiting in the rain

content: student! seonghwa x gn! reader, fluff, angst. inspired by my neighbour totoro’s setting. warnings: mentions and descriptions of death, some swearing, description of a panic attack.

summary: you and seonghwa were determined to get out of the dreary town you lived in and move to the city. unfortunately, sometimes things just don’t go as planned.

word count: 3.3k

note: another angst with hwa in it… no, i do not enjoy making hwa stans feel pain. i enjoy hurting everyone. get it right. (i started this back in 2021 and finished it today so it’s not proof read. forgive me)

it was raining again.

staring up at the sky, you hold your umbrella steadily. the transparent film allowed you to see how beautiful the sky was. white clouds float by slowly, their mystical tears staining the earth as a reminder of their ethereal presence.

your small village was close knit, but sometimes, suffocating. the villagers led humble lives as farmers, carpenters, florist, bus drivers– everyone was content with their simple lives. well, everyone except you and—

“y/n!”

you crane your neck to the right and smile. the rain patters gently against your skin, puddles surrounding you. there was not a single car in sight, the delightful smell of rain in the air. nature thrived in your small town– your home.

that pink hair is a familiar yet comforting sight. it’s accompanied with the scent of honey and mint, a melodic voice that would make even the coldest of hearts melt. his eyes shone like the fireflies at night, smile as sweet as the flowers in his parent’s own garden. park seonghwa was the definition of perfection. well, at least to you, he was.

you and seonghwa had this little habit that everyone in the village knew about.

every morning before school, you would meet him at the bus stop behind the small stream near your house. it had been that way ever since you were five; holding hands as you walk to school merrily, basking in each other’s warm presence.

“seonghwa!” you shouted, waving at him enthusiastically as he ran up and hugged you tight. “i’ve been waiting for like, more than y en minutes, where were you?”

seonghwa giggles. “sorry! i took a shortcut that joong suggested, but it took longer than i expected.”

you feign annoyance, huffing as you crossed your arms. “come on, y/n,” he whines. “forgive me, please? i have a special place to bring you to today.”

“what is it?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you. seonghwa grins, putting a finger against his lips. “a secret? really, hwa?” you roll your eyes.

“be patient,” he nags, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the forest. you can’t help but smile, looking adoringly at your best friend.

seonghwa pulled you through the forest, helping you climb the slopes swiftly. the sounds of critters and bugs filled the air, fitting for the environment you were in. it was a peaceful journey, enjoying each other’s presence, basking in the warm sunlight. a comforting feeling filled your heart, putting a smile on your face.

you trudged across the river carefully as seonghwa laughed, splashing water at you. “hey!” you shouted, sending a splash of water his way as he shrieked. “get back here, park seonghwa!”

“catch me if you can!” he stuck his tongue out at you childishly. scooping a handful of water up, you chase after the boy, water dripping down your arms. many would fail to believe you were both almost eighteen.

tossing the water at him, you giggle in delight when he yelps, trying to run off. “oh gosh, that’s cold,” he shivers as you scoff, dismissing him.

“stop being so dramatic, hwa. you’re not going to die,” you lament as he laughs, shaking his head. “anyways, where’s this place you wanted to bring me to?”

“right here.”

you follow his gaze, and gasp in awe. the sight before you is absolutely gorgeous– an entire field of forget-me-nots. the small, baby blue flowers swayed gently in the wind, as if putting on a dance for you.

“oh my god, hwa,” you can feel the grin on his face. “this is beautiful.”

he takes your hand, fingers intertwining with yours to pull you along. “come,” he encourages you with the gentlest voice ever. “there’s so much more to see.”

the field of flowers smelt like heaven to you. it was as if you were in heaven. you weren’t complaining– seonghwa was your guardian angel and really the only person you needed in this life.

“oh, is is absolutely magical,” you say, spinning around. “how on earth did you find this place?” you ask as he giggles. oh, his giggle is a soft melody that prances in the wind like a dandelion. it’s soft, sweet, ethereal– you wanted to bathe in it forever.

his smile is a breath of fresh air. “i just happened to stumble upon it one day after school. it’s like another world, isn’t it?” his gazes into the horizon with a smile. he looks down at you, eyes filled with care and love. “i don’t know how i got so lucky.”

you blush at those words, quickly looking away. seonghwa truly knew how to render you speechless. before you could process anything further, seonghwa grabbed your hand and pulled you along.

“dance with me, y/n!”

it was like you were dreaming. your feet moved clumsily along with seonghwa’s, trying to keep up. he held your hand and spun you around, giggling as you held onto his arms tightly. “don’t drop me!” you squeak as he dipped you down.

his face was extremely close as he leaned to press his forehead against you. “i’d never even dream of dropping you,” as you bathed in the warmth of the sun. you never wanted to wake up from this dream.

after prancing around in the flower field for a few hours, giggling and whispering sweet nothings to each other, you and seonghwa had to part ways.

“must you go?” you ask, a hint of sadness in your voice.

he gives you a soft, yet sad smile. “it’s okay, y/n,” he caress your cheek with the back of his hand. “i’ll see you again soon.” he pulls you into a hug and you melt into it, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. he smelled like vanilla and strawberries, a sweet concoction that made you dizzy with delight.

you pull away and try to mask your disappointment with a smile. he chuckles, ruffling your hair in a playful manner.

slinging your bag over your shoulder, you turn and wave to him. the boy waves back, walking further and further down the road. even after the pink of his hair disappears into the fog, you stare into the abyss.

“y/n?”

you spin around, surprised by the two voices you hear behind you. “oh! joong! yunho!” you smile as they wave at you. “what are you guys doing here?”

the blue haired male shrugged, stealing some chips from the taller boy who sent him a glare. “hey, y/n. school ended early today so we were on our way to that new cafe that opened,” yunho explained, offering you some chips.

“oh, shit, wait a minute,” hongjoong grumbled as he fished through his bag hurriedly. “we got our exam results today.”

yunho snickered at the elder male’s frantic behaviour. “our poor class president here was tasked to hand you your papers,” he nudged hongjoong who threw him a glare.

“where were you today, y/n?” hongjoong asked, handing you a stack of papers. “you got the highest marks for literature again,” he winked at you, pushing his thick-framed glasses up.

yunho sighs. “yeah, and i failed math. again,” he kicks a rock into the stream, watching as it sinks. “fantastic.”

you giggle “i was out in the forest with seonghwa the whole day,” you grin at the two boys. “we ended up venturing deeper past the stream and found a whole field of forget-me-nots.”

the taller male shoots you a confused look, shoving his hand into the packet of chips. hongjoong sighs and glances behind you. “y/n–”

“oh! i need to get home!” you glance at your watch. “my parents are going to kill me if i’m out past curfew. see you guys tomorrow!” you shout while running off as hongjoong let out a deep sigh.

“what on earth was she talking about? is she still…?” yunho’s voice trailed off.

hongjoong looks up at him, unsure. “yeah. i don’t know how to… i don’t…” he sighs yet again as yunho pats his shoulder.

“we’ll figure it out, hyung,” the brunette says softly. “it’ll take time, you of all people should know that.”

the older male can only bite his lip and nod, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. he knew all too well. truth be told, he hated that he knew it.

it’ll take time.

the next day, you woke up excitedly, hoping it would be a sunny morning. the soft pitter patter of rain disappointed you, but still, you got up.

you still got up.

as you got dressed, you texted seonghwa, informing him that you would be waiting at the bus stop. it was sort of dreary, really. that road was particularly hard to navigate in the rain, but you both knew it well enough– it was the road you trudged along every day.

opening your umbrella, you bid farewell to your parents before skipping out the door. the rain didn’t diminish your spirits. sure, a thick coat of melancholy rested upon your soul, but your heart reigned over it.

you skipped over puddles, skillfully avoiding the splashes cars speeding by created. humming a soft tune, you looked up at the sky with a smile. everything was going to be okay, as long as seonghwa was there. you knew it’d be okay.

as you approach the bus stop, you spot a figure standing near it. with a grin, you begin to walk faster, calling out your friend’s name. the rain was a extremely persistent, however, easily overpowering your voice. you inhaled a deep breath, ready to shout his name again, but stop.

instead of the usual pink hair, you see a head of blue.

hongjoong.

“what are you doing here, joong?” you ask, approaching slowly. he doesn’t reply, and you think he hadn’t heard you.

so you move even closer, about to call out to him again. it’s only when you kick a puddle of water, drenching your shoes that you realise hongjoong is standing in the rain, absolutely drenched. “hongjoong!” you stand up and grab his wrist. “you’re going to get sick!”

before you can do anything, he pulls you towards him instead. dropping your umbrella, you feel the rain begin to soak you, the cold feeling of water dripping down your skin engulfing you whole.

you let out a gasp, about to glare at the boy, but don’t. hongjoong was crying.

“j-joong?” you stutter out in shock. “what’s going on? why are you crying?”

“i’m sorry.”

hongjoong’s voice comes out as a whisper. he sounds so small, so meek, so timid– it genuinely terrifies you. never had hongjoong shown such a vulnerable side of himself.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he wails, knees giving out. “i’m sorry, y/n– it’s all my fault, i’m so sorry.”

his nails dig into your skin as he gasps for air. confused, you were trying to make sense of what hongjoong was saying. what was his fault?

what had hongjoong done that weighed so painfully on his conscious? why was such a bitter confession slipping off his tongue, to fill only your ears? a deep, profoundly vile feeling filled your throat.

your vision strayed from hongjoong.

when did the path look so dreary? so dark and lonely? this road was one that had filled your memories with joy, comfort, love and warmth. the sight of your best friend running down the gravel, careful to not slip clouded your mind. his pink hair bounced softly, his mere presence more radiating than the sun itself. the droplets of rain running down his face, that contagious, goofy grin of his— that was what you saw when you looked down this road, and yet… and yet it looked so different now. what had changed—

“he’s not coming back, he’s gone— he’s dead, y/n, and it’s all my fault!’

hongjoong’s wails startle you slightly. you’d never heard him sound so broken like that. “what are you talking about, hongjoong?” you say ever-so gently, taking his calloused hands into yours. he is almost inconsolable, his sobs and wails echoing alongside the soft pattering of rain.

the blue-haired boy looked up at you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “seonghwa is gone, y/n,” hongjoong’s voice is raspy, dry and aching. “please, y/n, you have to realise that he is gone.”

you sigh, rubbing your thumb gently over his knuckles. pushing his hair back, he sobs even harder. you allow him to muzzle his face into the crook of your neck, his tears staining your skin. the clouds thundered and roared at you both, as denial seeped deep into your veins.

no, seonghwa wasn’t gone.

“oh, joong, he’s not gone,” you whisper, stroking his head gently. “he’s taking the shortcut you showed him here–”

“no, y/n– he dead!”

hongjoong’s voice rang in your ear as he pushed you back. you look at him, the way he trembled from the cold. “he fell into the river along the shortcut i showed him and drowned, y/n! he’s dead!”

everything was a blur for a moment. the world went silent. the rain ceased. even hongjoong disappeared. nothing seemed to matter, except processing what he had just said.

seonghwa was dead.

“n-no,” you stutter out, a migraine beginning to form at the side of your head. “no, joong, you must be mistaken,” you blurt out, laughing nervously. “i just saw hwa yesterday–”

“y/n, please,” joong begged, holding your hands tightly. “he died last month, y/n, you need to accept that. he’s gone.

flashbacks. a flurry of memories came crashing onto you at the speed of light as you winced, grabbing your head in pain. the funeral, the crying, the coldness, the pain, the loneliness, the grief– it all came crashing down.

“no,” you whispered, clawing at your scalp. “no, no, no, hwa,” you gasped as hongjoong sobbed. “oh my god, no, this can’t be!” you shout, looking at your friend, hoping this was just a sick joke.

the look on his face told you it wasn’t.

staring at him, your body felt numb yet completely overwhelmed at the same time. your heart pounded against your chest, words stuck at the back of your throat. you didn’t know what to say, nor what to do.

so you ran.

hongjoong’s voice trailed off as you sped down the forest path. you ran as fast as your feet could carry you. as you passed the river, you glance at it, the image of seonghwa’s face flashing in your mind. you wince, tears streaming down your face as you pulled your gaze away.

you continued to run. the sounds of twigs snapped under your weight, leaves rustled as you ran through the woods. your chest heaved as you struggled to breathe, completely exhausted.

and yet, you kept running. you refused to stop. you refused to stop until you saw it. you refused to stop until you got to–

you stopped.

the flower field.

“seonghwa!” you shouted, tears streaming down your cheeks. you were breathless, sweat dripping down your forehead. “park seonghwa!”

the desperation laced in your voice was heart-wrenching. it was raw and scratchy, and painful. you spun from left to right, praying that when you turned around, seonghwa would be standing there, alive and well.

unfortunately, you only got half of what you wished for.

seonghwa stood before you. pink hair, pink lips, soft and kind eyes– indeed, that was park seonghwa.

but he was not alive.

you cannot stand to look at him. you choke back a sob, hand clamping over your mouth as you turn away. you knew that if you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to control your tears.

“you have to let me go, y/n.”

it’s funny how his words sounded so different despite its familiarity. you turn to your left and stare at the pink haired boy who smiles, tears streaming down his ghostly pale cheeks.

“you need to let me go.”

damp cheeks. quivering lips. fists clenched so hard, they turned white. the air was still, tension thick. it was hard to breathe. you held seonghwa’s hands tightly, worried that he’d slip away the moment you let go.

“how can i?” you whisper, tears blurring your vision. “i can’t let you go, hwa. not when i’ve spent my whole life with you. how do i live this new life when all i’ve known is one with you?”

the boy smiles. it’s a sad, pitiful smile. you hate it. “you need to, y/n. i’ll always be here– in the trees, the flowers, the breeze,” he trails off. “in your heart.”

“but i need you here with me,” you sob. “how am i to go on without you? i’d wait in the rain for you forever, hwa. i cannot live without you.��

the tears that rolled down hwa’s cheeks shone like stars. “you’ll have to learn, y/n. time will heal you,” his breath is shaky and uncertain. “i’m sorry,” he whispers, hands cupping your cheeks.

you shake your head, putting your hands over his. “no, don’t apologise. please,” you beg, looking up at him. you stared into his eyes, biting your lip to stop it from trembling.

his thumb brushes against your lip gently, eyebrows furrowed. “don’t do that,” he whispered. “you’re hurting yourself.”

your grip on his shirt tightened as you stare into his eyes. god, how could fate be so cruel? why would the gods curse you with such tragic destiny?

the boy wiped your tears away, his own tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. you nuzzled your face into his hands, your gaze filled with desperation and desire.

with that, seonghwa swooped down and kissed you.

you held onto him tightly, kissing him back with the desperation that clung to you so desperately. he tasted divine– like white chocolate and strawberries.

you could feel his tears fall, your own following suite, but you refused to pull away. this is something you had wanted for the longest time, and you weren’t about to let it slip away.

alas, all good things have to end. you panted, forehead pressed against his. “don’t go, hwa,” you plead. “please.”

he lets out a sad laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to console you. “i have to, y/n,” he hums. “i’ll see you again soon, okay?”

you look up frantically at the sight of seonghwa fading away. “no! hwa, please, please!” you cry out, grasping onto him.. “what about all our plans, hwa? to leave this place? to get an apartment in the city? to live our life to the fullest together forever? what about all that?”

seonghwa was full on sobbing now, trying to hold onto you as well. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry, please hold me,” he begged and you hugged him tightly. “i love you, y/n,” he confesses. “god, i love you. you are the light of my life– my god-given solace. you’re my soulmate, y/n, and i’m so, so sorry. please forgive me– god, please.”

“seonghwa,” you whimper, holding onto him as he finally faded away. he had become one with the wind, the earth, the water– he was gone.

park seonghwa, your best friend, soulmate, and love of your life, was gone.

you let out a chocked sob, knees giving way as you fell to the ground. your pants were soaked with rain water and mud, but you couldn’t be bothered.

“i didn’t get to tell you i love you too.”

as the rain began to fall once again, you sat at the bus stop behind the stream. this small town was once a place you and seonghwa had always dreamed of leaving, but now you knew.

this dreary small town of yours, would consume your soul, as it did, his.

[arcane-vagabond]

Road To Perdition: Prologue

Road to Perdition: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

Content Warning: Mentions of alcohol, Allusions to alcoholism, Death of parents, Pessimism, Historical Inaccuracies probably. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: Just under 1.2k

Series Masterlist

Light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting shadows across the walls as your eyes slowly fluttered open. There was a stillness in the air that was all too familiar for those that lived as far out of the city as you did, nestled in the trees that scattered the farmland surrounding your home. You heard the shrill chirping of the birds as you adjusted back to life in the waking world, stretching with a grunt as you glanced over at the clock sitting on your nightstand.

It was still early, something you both lamented and thanked the lord for. You had things to do today, things that would require you to sneak past your brother who had undoubtedly passed out on the couch once more after a night of drinking himself silly. He had been like that before your parents passed, one of the many things he and your father had in common.

It had been only a couple of years since your father died, leaving your brother his illegal business of moonshining - a business you had been a part of at one point before finding other means of making money. Your father hadn’t been too keen on the idea at first, always commenting on how you seemed to have a special touch with the liquor, earning you your nickname of Moonshine or Moonie for short.

He had accepted it in stride, though. Especially when he saw the amount of your first earnings as a part-time photographer for the local paper. The camera had been a gift from a family friend, having purchased it for his son who quickly let it fall to the wayside as other pursuits caught his interests.

“Shouldn’t go to waste,” he had said, handing it to you with a small smile on his usually stern face. “Here, Moonie. You should have it.”

You had felt wrong taking it at first, but the feeling quickly left you once you held your first photo in your hand, your brother having saved up enough to set up a makeshift room for you to develop them in. That was before he started sampling his own product, of course.

“These are really good, Moonie!” Jack had grinned as he held a particularly stunning shot of a doe you had encountered in the back field one morning. She had turned to face you, and that’s when you had taken the shot, just before she ran back into the safety of the woods. You were particularly proud of that shot, but you ducked your head down in humility.

“They’re not that good,” you mumbled shyly.

You smiled wistfully at the memory before letting out a sigh as you pulled yourself up out of the comfort of your bed. You were quick to tidy up, fluffing the pillows before marching down the hall towards the bathroom. The sound of snoring echoed from your brother’s room, and you snorted in surprise at the change, but continued on.

After relieving yourself, you washed up, grimacing at your reflection in the mirror. Most girls your age had a whole counter full of makeup, but you simply couldn’t see the need for it, or justify it for that matter. No, you were saving up what little you could to make your escape. You weren’t sure where you’d go yet. New York perhaps? You’d heard there was always an opportunity for someone there. The thought of making your way in the growing city sent your stomach fluttering, and you clapped your hands against your cheeks to settle your mind.

There was no time for daydreaming. You had to focus on the task at hand. You were able to squirrel some of your earnings away from your brother’s greedy hands, and you made weekly deposits into a private bank account. People had been weary of the banks since the crash a few years back, but you trusted them more than your snooping older brother. Work had been hard for people to come by, but people were always looking for a photographer. So for now, non-essentials like makeup would have to wait.

You dressed quickly, double checking to make sure your camera was tucked away in your messenger back alongside your rainy day fund, and set out only to stop short at the sight of the living room.

Bottles were strewn all about the place along with cards scattered alongside them. Letting out a heavy sigh, you dropped your bag down onto one of the chairs as you set about cleaning the place up. You were surprised that the noise of what was surely many men hadn’t woken you up. You had had a long day, though. The fresh wad of bills sitting in your bag proof of that.

The bottles clanked together as you gathered up as many as you could, taking them out to be washed later. Coming back inside, you glanced over to observe the state of the kitchen, the sight having a growl leaving your throat before you could stop it. Plates were stacked high in the sink, and you knew you’d have to take care of them now lest they stink up the place for the rest of the day. The last thing you needed to deal with was unwanted pests in your home.

You actually enjoyed doing the dishes, if you were being honest. It was time to let your mind wander, plotting your way out without being disturbed. No one wanted to be drawn in to helping, of course. So you washed and scrubbed in silence as the noise outside picked up with the late morning. You wouldn’t get to the bank until this afternoon, at this rate. That left little time to go snooping for your next lead, which left you more irritated than before.

You drained the sink once you were done, wiping your hands with the dishcloth with a grimace. You’d have to do laundry tomorrow. Another chore left for you to take care of.

Perhaps you wouldn’t be so quick to want to leave if it wasn’t only you holding this place together. Your brother had been your rock once upon a time, but then your mother had passed due to illness and your father followed her not long after. Of course, you had been devastated, but you took it upon yourself to be the strong one after Jack fell apart. He started drinking then. It had only been one here or there, but it quickly grew into several bottles a night, and no amount of begging would get him to stop. So you quit trying.

It had come to a head only a year ago when you came home early to find your room tossed upside down, anything of value missing along with Jack. It was a week before he came home.

You had learned your lesson, and now you bided your time until you could withdraw your money and make a break for it. The sun shone down on you as you began the trek into town, dreaming of the day you would make this journey for the last time.

A/N: Just something to tide you guys over until I can formulate the next chapters of By Its Cover and Fool's Fare. I'm excited for this one though!

If you would like to receive notifications on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. You can find all of my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 9 - Nobody Else Gave Me A Thrill

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: You two finally figure it all out on New Year's Eve...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: none, really… just some swearing and love confessions.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. Here we are; this is the final chapter! Both reader and Benedict finally see the truth. There will be a short, hopefully humourous epilogue to this story as well, which I will post tomorrow. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. I hope you have all enjoyed this fic <3

For the next few weeks, the dreary weather, the clocks changing, and the chilly nights drawing in match your sullen mood. Your argument with Benedict at the wedding made you so sad but resolute to try and put it behind you.

It's the last weekend in November when you are buying a Christmas tree that you feel the worst. Making a mess of dragging the tree back to your place alone, leaving a trail of needles behind you, you stop halfway and slump onto a doorstep. Recalling with perfect clarity how you and Benedict had bought one together from the same man the previous year, laughing carefree as you easily carried it between you. Then you drank mulled wine as you haphazardly threw on lights and ornaments, dancing to cheesy Christmas songs. It's what you miss the most—his companionship, the ease of time spent with one of your favourite people.

Just as you are wrestling the tree through your front door, exhausted, sweaty and prickled by a thousand tiny shitty needles that seem to have it out for you, your phone pings with a message.

BB: I'm sorry for how things ended at the wedding. I've been thinking about it for weeks now. Please call me. I want to talk. 

Pride (and your current disastrous had-a-fight-with-a-tree-and-lost appearance) stops you from doing what you genuinely want to—picking up your phone and Facetiming him to sort it all out.

Not ready yet.

__

Two weeks later, it's mid-December, and you are sitting cross-legged on your living room floor with a big glass of wine, wrapping presents for friends, when your phone pings again. For a while now, almost every day, he has been sending links to Insta posts with adorable and hilarious content. Each of which you have enjoyed but couldn't bring yourself to reply to. This time, it’s a message.

BB: If you are available at the moment, please call me.

You stare at the little pop-up notification and take a gulp, a weird weight in your chest at the idea you might cave this time. Perhaps. Once you are done wrapping this gift. A few minutes later, your phone pings again.

BB: Okay, I assume no call means:

BB: (A) you can't take a call right now

BB: (B) you can, but you don't want to talk to me or 

BB: (C) you desperately do want to talk to me but are trapped under something heavy

BB: If it's A or C, please call me back later, doesn't matter what time

BB: Also, if it’s C, please call 999 if you are in danger, then call me after. I don't have any heavy-lifting equipment… 

You can't help but giggle at his gentle, silly humour, attempting to diffuse the tension. A large part of you wants to call; you even have the phone in your hand, but at the last minute, you rest it against your forehead with a sigh, something stopping you. Your stupid rebound fling being the biggest one, Benedict’s cutting remark about how quickly you let someone else into your bed, making your stomach roil. 

Still not ready yet.

—

“Obviously, she doesn't want to speak to me,” Benedict laments, his words muffled into a scatter cushion on Kate and Anthony’s sofa. 

It's the morning after they've returned from honeymoon, three days before Christmas. While they are thankful Benedict popped over with some basics to make breakfast, they could do without his melancholy—they’re much more about a ‘let’s have newlywed sex on the kitchen table’ vibe.

“What do I have to do? Get hit over the head? Be in some calamitous accident?” Benedict whines, twisting his head in aggravation as if trying to burrow himself head-first into the furniture.

‘What do we do?’ Anthony mouths to Kate, who throws her hands up defeatedly.

‘How should I know?’ she mouths back, frowning. ‘He's your brother.’

‘Your friend's fault,’ Anthony shoots back.

Kate crosses her arms and gets a look like a sour lemon, and he instantly regrets that line.

Benedict lifts his head to look up at them, and she has to stifle a giggle behind her hand at the deep red imprint of the cushion zipper on his forehead.

“If she wants to talk to me. She will call me back, right? I'm done with making an idiot of myself….” Benedict claims boldly.

__

You are sitting on the sofa at your childhood home early evening on Christmas Day, almost disgustingly full of Baileys (your mum's tipple of choice on this day) and Christmas pud, watching The Wrong Trousers - a family tradition - when your phone pings with a message.

It's from Benedict and your stomach vaults. You honestly thought after more than a week of silence, he had given up trying. And part of you was so sad. There is no text this time, just a video attachment. You excuse yourself to the downstairs cloakroom, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet, intrigued as to what it is.

The video starts with him looking directly into the camera, his handsome face filling the frame and making your stomach swoop again. Fuck, you have missed seeing it.

“Merry Christmas y/n. I hope you are having a nice time. I miss you, and I hate how we left things,” he opens honestly, “and when Bridgertons don't know what to do, we always act stupidly. It's our ‘thing’. So here, You can blame this on my genetics...”

The video cuts to black briefly and then fades into him, a huge 6ft lump, crowded behind a plastic toy piano on the floor, probably one of Daphne’s kids' toys. You instantly giggle at the ridiculous visual as he apes a maestro, closes his eyes as if about to play Chopin, and flexes his hands. Then, the tinny, electric sound of some familiar notes being played hesitantly begins. He isn't exactly a natural pianist.

“Hey, I didn't just meet you, And this is crazy, 

You know my number, So call me maybe,

It's hard to feel right without you, lady

You know my number, so call me, maybe…”

You are instantly laughing. He's such an adorable, charming idiot. Sitting behind a miniature plastic piano and playing, half in earnest, half in jest. At least his voice can hold a semi-decent tune. It brings an affectionate mist to your eyes even as it continues…

“Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad; I missed you so, so bad

Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

And you should know that, I miss you now… so, so bad….”

For the last few words, he slows down the song and looks directly down the lens pointedly.

Something in his pleading look is the straw that breaks the camel's back proverbially, and with a slight tremor in your hand, you scroll to his name and hit the FaceTime button before you can think twice about it. The sound of the tone, as it rings, feels so loud, and each crisp ‘bringggg’ makes your nerves jangle. Just as you are about to hang up, the call connects.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to answer. I had to find a private spot.” he sounds a little winded.

“Where are you?” you frown, an unfamiliar background behind him.

“My childhood bedroom. Aubrey Hall.”

“Oh my god! Show me!” You enthuse, your initial equivocation derailed by nosiness, which you decide to frame instead in your mind as mere curiosity.  You never got to see it the wedding weekend for, well, reasons you don't want to dwell on right now.

He quickly flips the camera around, giving you an audio-guided tour of the room he grew up in. Dark blue walls with framed posters for his beloved Blur alongside Travis, Radiohead and Shaun of the Dead. Silly stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars on the high ceiling that are likely too high for anyone to bother getting out a ladder and peeling off. Shelves with little wooden car models he made with his dad before he died, mixed in with certificates of achievement from school, shiny brass archery trophies, and his early sketches in those cheap snap-in frames. And lastly, a collection of jagged small rocks and colourful pebbles. It makes you feel so very affectionate for little teenage Benedict.

“You are bloody adorable!” you blurt out, almost forgetting all the awkwardness from the past few weeks.

The camera flips around, and his lopsided grin fills the screen. “Thank you. I try to make a habit of it…”

You smile back and then sigh. “I’ve missed this,” you confess quietly, wistfully. 

“I’ve missed this too. You. Us. Can we please be friends again? Please? I know we both have a lot of things to talk about. With that night and all… but… can we reset? I need you, Bluey. I am miserable without my best friend,” he pouts, his raw honesty making your chest ache. 

It’s exactly how you feel, too. Except with a massive pang of regret that he seems to want to forget your magical night together. Sex is never like that, at least not for you—electric and addictive. Doing a reset to save your friendship feels like the most logical step. Still, it doesn’t stop the “what if” fantasies running in your head with increasing frequency, especially on a day like today—nostalgia, sentiment and overindulgence swirling in your being. 

“I would like us to be friends again,” you exhale, a lie by slight omission, drumming your fingertips on your cheek nervously to stop you from saying more. 

“Wonderful! Then it is so! I can’t wait to see you again! Are you going to the New Year's party? The one Simon & Daph are hosting at the Sky Terrace? Cos if you are, I was wondering, if you don’t have a date if we could go together? We always said we would be each other's plus one if neither of us is with anyone…”

That he wants to completely reset to that world makes your heart crack. You want to scream at him, ‘No! I want to be your real date! Pick me, for real, this time!’

“I… can’t do that,” you waver, and it comes off sounding tired.

“You have a date?” It’s soft, hesitant, trepidatious.

“No…” you admit, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go together like that. I… I can’t be your consolation prize anymore, Benedict,” you blurt out, the hurt taking over your tongue.

The look of stunned surprise on his face makes it worse. As if he had never even seen it from that perspective.

“That’s not what I….” he begins but is interrupted by a loud door bang as it slams into the wall and a yelling voice.

“Stop fucking hiding and get your bloody arse back downstairs. You can’t miss family dinner on Christmas Day!” Colin scolds loudly offscreen.

“I’ve got to go…,” he sighs reluctantly as an arm manhandles him up and off the bed. “Merry Christmas,” he adds, belatedly realising you both forgot to say it earlier on the call.

“Whoever it is, hang up. No one is more important than family on Christmas,” Colin gripes. “That’s it, I’m taking your phone…”.

The screen is filled with random shapes and loud noises as they seem to wrestle like children. And then the call suddenly disconnects. 

You sigh and tip sideways against the cold tile of your parents' cloakroom wall.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

__

Benedict takes stock of his surroundings. December 31st, 11:00pm, lying on his stomach on his sectional chaise, staring up at the big flatscreen on his wall.

This isn't so bad… he tries to convince himself. I've got Jools Holland’s Hootenanny - the only decent New Year's programme, some Glenfiddich and Mini Cheddars - the best snack there is… 

He sighs and realises how pathetic he sounds, even in his own mind, alone in an empty flat.

__

The man whirls you around, and you are almost thrown straight into Kate and Anthony.

“I should never have let you drag me to this,” you grouse so only they can hear.

They both shoot you an apologetic look until you are whipped away again. This man’s dancing style is more akin to a waltzer amusement ride than anything sensual or fun. Your shoulder is already aching. It's a far cry from the surprising salsa Benedict pulled out of the bag last New Year’s Eve. And the idle thought of him has you spiralling…

“Mind if we stop?” you puff as the band finishes the song with a flourish. He’s some slick European investment banking type, and really, you couldn't give two shits about offending him, merely your ingrained politeness kicking in.

He nods and goes off to grab drinks as you stand, hands on hips, trying to gather your breath as you watch all the people moving like a mass of limbs on the crowded dancefloor as the following number begins.

Why the fuck am I here?

__

This is much better… Benedict rationalises to himself as he wanders down the rainy, empty East London streets not far from his Hoxton pad. Who needs to be at a big, crowded party pretending to have a good time?

He pauses outside a trendy shop on Old St, selling overpriced crap that he's not even sure what it is.

See? I can do some window shopping. He tells himself silently—clutching at anything to distract himself from the creeping sense of dread in his gut. A slow twisting knife as he thinks about you dancing the night away, ringing in the New Year with some fancy, handsome man who definitely doesn't deserve you.

What does it matter to me? We are just friends. Best friends… the only friend I ever want to see every day… the only one who truly matters….

He has thought about how to repair the damage between you so much over the last few weeks that he's exhausted himself. Really, he just wants you back. All of you, ideally, but being realistic, any part of yourself you will let back into his life. The suggestion of a reset he made on Christmas Day being his cowardly way out.

—

You are fake laughing at the banker’s story as you lean around the pillar you are backing yourself against in an attempt to secure more personal space. Glad of the heated lamps and the glass overhang to shelter from the drizzle.

“I'm going home,” you growl.

“You’ll never find an Uber,” Kate points out deadpan as you turn back around and keep faking amusement.

__

Just as his thoughts spiral, Benedict hears a chuckle on the other side of the road. There, a couple are laughing together, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing, looking like no one else in the world matters… and it’s like a lightning rod hits him square in the chest.

Suddenly, all he can see are images of you, fluttering like motioned-filled playing cards from above, swirling into his eyeline, then floating onto the glistening pavement around him. Vignettes of his life and where you intersect at so many pivotal moments. The day he left uni - the car ride where you bickered like an old married couple, the day he moved to Paris - your dilated pupils and hitched breath on the Eurostar when he whispered in your ear, the unerring sympathy when you heard about his divorce, the way you held his hand when you wandered after dinner somewhere (he doesn't even recall where… only that it was with you), watching movies together on FaceTime, your incredulity when he confessed to his uneventful recurring sex dream, your surprise and, yes, arousal as he led you in the salsa dance, the way you tucked so neatly into his arms haunting him. And finally, how it felt to be buried inside your gorgeous body as you clung to him, calling his name like a siren song, intimacy like he has never known, the profundity of the connection petrifying the very life out of him. 

But as he stares down at his tatty old Converse, the same ones he wore the day you met, in fact, all he sees in the puddle beneath him is the simple truth he has been in denial about, possibly for a decade or more. Rippling refractions of your face - your knowing smile, bright eyes, your wonderful, happy expression…

And before his brain acknowledges it, his feet are moving….

Walking fast…

Then it’s a jog…

Then it’s a run….

.. his feet carrying him to the one place he knows with every fibre of his being he wants to be.

—

You wander as if in a daze, seemingly surrounded by nothing but couples, kissing, dancing, whispering, and it's the final straw. You spy Kate and Anthony sipping champagne together and slope over.

“I'm going,” you sigh.

“But it's almost midnight,” Anthony protests.

“Being surrounded by people kissing is just…” you shrug, melancholy creeping in like a clingy fog around your heart.

“I’ll kiss you,” Kate placates, and Anthony perks up to no end at that suggestion, nodding enthusiastically as you both roll your eyes, bemused. “Stay? Please?” she pleads, pouting and grabbing your hands.

“Thanks, Kate. But no. I have to go. Have a wonderful night,” you bid them, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Happy New Year,” you whisper as she returns the greeting.

__

Benedict's lungs are burning as he races down Old St towards Shoreditch, not far from where you celebrated last year. He ignores the ache in his muscles and keeps going, checking his watch to see 11:56pm and racing harder.

I need to be there at midnight!

__

As you walk to pick up your coat, a sight makes your heart leap into your mouth and stops you dead in your tracks.

There, rounding the top stair, casual in old faded jeans, those ancient Converse and a chunky knit jumper… is Benedict. Hair fluffy and dishevelled from the rain, out of breath and scanning the crowd desperately. As if he is seeking someone.

Then his eyes finally land on you, and your world tilts. 

Oh god, is he here… for… me?!?

Then he is striding purposefully towards you, and it seems like the crowds part. His eyes blisteringly intense, like they were on that fateful night. You try to school your face, aiming for casual indignance; you probably fail spectacularly— your heart thumping wildly.

“I've been doing a lot of thinking…” he begins as he pulls up before you. “And the thing is… I love you..”

Everything grinds to a halt, and your head feels dizzy.

This must be a prank, surely?

“What?” you stutter, disbelief rocking your core.

“I love you,” he says with a simple shrug as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ben.. I… what do you expect me to say?” you blurt out, floored.

“How about you love me too,” he smiles a tiny fraction, and you hate it.

You hate how RIGHT he is. Your body is a total jumble of live wires, but your mind is suddenly calm. It's like the clouds of your thoughts part, and it all seems crystal clear. And yet, something in your stubborn heart won't let you admit it. Terrified what it could mean to voice it.

“Look, Ben, I know it's New Year, and I know you may be lonely tonight. But please don't do this,” you implore haltingly, tears prickling hot in the corners of your eyes, “...not like this,” you whisper, defeated.

“Okay, how about like this….” he throws his hands up. “I love that you won't admit you love me. I love that you are looking at me like you want to kill me right now. I love that my body is screaming at me cos I ran here as fast as I could.” he gestures down at his slightly shaky legs.

“Ten seconds to New Year's!!” a loud voice blares out over the speakers.

“TEN!!” the crowd chants.

“I love that we are idiots who would never admit to how in love we are.”

“NINE!”

“I love that you are my blue lobster, rare and beautiful as a diamond but a delicious soft treat under that hard as nails shell….” 

“EIGHT!”

He tilts your chin to look up at him, a thumb swiping a tear you didn't even know had escaped. 

“SEVEN!”

“Don't leave me out here in the wind, y/n…,” he murmurs softly.

“SIX!”

“I… I love that you never give up,” you whisper so quietly even you can barely hear it. 

The smile that lights up Benedict’s face makes your whole being feel like the stars live inside your chest.

“FIVE!”

“I love that you take homemade salads on a road trip,” he smirks playfully, referring to the first day you spent together all those years ago.

“FOUR!” 

“I love that you kept your amazing dance prowess under wraps,” you laugh over a stilted snuffle, everything in you fizzling.

“THREE!”

“I love that I can still smell you on my clothes after we spend the day together,” he sighs, moving in closer, your eyes hypnotised by the movement of his cupid’s bow.

“TWO!”

“I love that you came here tonight,” you admit, your hands circling his forearms as you sway slightly in unison.

“ONE!”

“I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night,” he confesses, his lips ghosting over yours now, smiling crookedly even as he speaks.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!” the crowd chants.

All around you, party poppers go off, colourful ribbons of streamers, and the sound of glasses clinking fills the air. But it’s background noise, your whole focus on each other.

Finally, your lips meet, the fireworks under your ribs matching those in the skies above, the same as it was that first time weeks ago. You melt into each other's embrace, your kiss a seal of a pact and the promise of something new and infinite.

“For the record,” he rumbles, his minty breath hot on your lips, the strains of Auld Lang Syne ringing around the rooftop. “I'm not saying this because I’m lonely and not because it’s the New Year. I came here tonight because when you finally realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start…”

“...as soon as possible,” you exhale, completing his sentence with him as he nods, grinning from ear to ear. 

The drunken chorus around you gets louder; he chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve never understood this stupid song.”

“I think it’s about remembering not to forget. Or not forgetting to remember. Or something,” you peal a laugh, knowing you are talking gibberish and not giving a damn. “Anyway, it’s about old friends,” you add pointedly, moving in for another spine-tingling, heart-melting kiss.

As you part, he cradles your jaw in his hands. “It was only ever you, y/n,” he sighs, hazy eyes burning into yours, his whisper fervent but contented into your skin. “It had to be you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies