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#its a wonder anyone took the time to get to know him
noyasmashing · 1 day
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If it isn't too much trouble, may I request mad dog with a nerdy reader. In public they have scary dog privileges but in private he becomes such a whiny puppy who doesnt know how to ask for master/mommy to touch him? No hurt feelings if you don't want too, I just don't see enough of him being a sub. Thank you!
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CW: names such as pup and mommy are used, semi public, praise, hand jobish??
A/N: i’m so sorry this took so long 😭 tbh i have no excuse
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he would be suchhhh a grouch in public. Picture yourselves on the public train together. He's casting menacing glares at anyone who dares to glance your way, positioning himself protectively in front of you. Meanwhile, you're engrossed in your book, wearing a delighted expression that's impossible to hide.
And when you venture out together (a rarity in itself), despite your occasional awkwardness, you effortlessly connect with others over obscure subjects, radiating joy and warmth. Kentaro, on the other hand, stands by your side, arms folded, engaging only with you.
Its quite endearing how different you two are-personality wise. People often wonder why you're with such a seemingly grumpy individual, but they don't see the tender side he reveals to you. He's incredibly sweet and attentive, always accompanying you to your favorite bookstores for the latest releases. Despite his aversion to socializing, he willingly joins you for coffee outings.
What may be the most adorable thing about him, is his sudden shyness in private. Suddenly, he's flushed red, stumbling over his words, nervously fidgeting with his hands, unsure where to place them.
He gives up any ounce of control easily, falling to his knees at your request. Your favorite thing is making him work for his pleasure. He knows what he wants. He wants to cum until he can't think. But he doesn't know how to ask.
Recently, you'd discovered a new favorite pastime: teasing Kentaro in public. There was nothing quite like watching him squirm as he struggled to maintain his tough exterior, only to be undone by his own pent-up desire.
It was a simple matter to get him riled up. A strategically timed pause to admire a book cover, a suggestive lick of a lollipop, or a deliberate lean forward to show off your cleavage would send him into a tailspin. His eyes would flash with desire, his face would redden, and his lips would tremble.
But the best part was the moment he'd snap, his eyes pleading for mercy as he grabbed at your shirt, his voice barely above a whisper. "P-please… y-you… I need y-you…"
You'd feign innocence, playing dumb as you led him on a merry chase. "Hmm? Need me to what, Kentaro?" You'd ask, looking up at him with a concerned expression. He'd hesitate, his words faltering as he scanned the empty store for an escape route. "You know.." He'd mutter, gaze low and hands sweating.
Finally you relented, firmly grasping his cheeks, directing his gaze toward the family bathroom that was tucked away but still in sight of you two. "That'll work yeah?" you inquired, locking eyes with his widened ones, before proceeding toward the bathroom. "What if someone sees us?" he'd nervously stammer, but still following closely behind you.
You'd simply smile, your eyes glinting with mischief. "It makes it more exciting, Kentaro."
Once inside, you'd press your lips against his, drawing out a soft groan as he struggled to keep up. But you were just getting started, taking a seat on the bench, beckoning him closer.
"Y-you want to do it here?" He'd ask, his voice laced with anxiety.
You'd bat your eyelashes, playing innocent once more. "Do what puppy?"
Being the nervous dog he is, he'd trail off, his face flushing with embarrassment as he stumbled forward. You'd laugh at his shyness, running your hands up his shirt and down his stomach as he stood in front of you.
"P-please… touch me," he'd beg, his voice cracking as he dropped his head in shame.
You'd toy with him, running your fingers over his hips as he squirmed beneath your touch. "I am touching you, baby," you'd purr, but he wasn't having it.
He needed something more – something that would make him feel like he was truly alive. And so, he forced out the words: "My c-cock., touch my cock, mommy"
Your eyes lit up with amusement and a hint a sadism, unzipping his pants and pulling his underwear down without hesitation. "That's all you had to say puppy." You'd coo, while wrapping your fingers around his hardened member. It boasted a rather prominent vein tracing its length, accompanied by a slight curve that he found rather embarrassing.
You couldn't resist the urge to tease him with gentle strokes that coaxed a soft whimper from his lips. Spitting into your free hand, he'd gasp at your boldness, wanting to say something. But words quickly faded in his mouth when you smeared it long his length, making him throw his head. He'd look up at you, pleading for more, but you'd merely smile wickedly and instruct him to "be a good boy and fuck yourself with my hand."
Immediately, he would protest with a whiney, "noo I-I can't" his inexperience evident in his hesitant tone. But as you met his gaze with a firm, expectant look, his hesitation gave way to an exploratory thrust. With the help of your praise, he'd slowly become more comfortable with your embarrassing request.
As he quickened his pace, his breath would catch in his throat, his member pulsing in your hand. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and his thrusts became more erratic, your seductive voice making it harder for him to stay steady. His usually narrow eyes seemed to be welling up with emotion, and his face flushed.
Your other hand grasped the soft skin of his hips, guiding him into a harsher rhythm. He let out a loud, desperate moan, forgetting their surroundings as he succumbed to his pleasure.
Useless pleas would tumble from his lips, but you refused to indulge them, instead, instructing him to "show that pretty tongue, baby." He had no choice but to obey, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, coated with saliva as he reveled in embarrassment.
He'd pant and whine, his red tip darted back and forth between your hand, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and shame. "M-mama, I'm close.. gunna cum.. c-cum, cum all over," he'd babble, his movements becoming more frenzied by the second.
Your grip tightening around his member, moving and twisting in tandem with his thrusts would send him over the edge. He'd cum with a loud, broken moan, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he convulsed in your grip.
His body felt shaky and weak, his legs trembling beneath him. You stroked him through the aftershocks, praising him as he sat down, still flushed from his climax.
"You did such a good job, pup," you'd coo, making him blush once more. "Just sit there and look pretty for me and I'll get you allll cleaned up."
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materassassino · 2 days
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O or V for Joe and/or Nicky
Took me a while to write this, it required research into something I know fundamentally nothing about, but it's cursory research, so if anyone sees any mistakes point them out. Or don't, exercise discretion.
There are many more things I could write about for this, but it was getting far too long.
Minific prompts!
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O - the stars or space
“Have you seen this?”
Nicolò careens in, breathless, and almost slams a book on the table. His heart is pounding, the wonder of it all, he knows, is writ large on his face. Yusuf stares at him, bewildered for a moment, before he gets the book thrust in his face.
De revolutionibus orbium coelestium.
He blinks at it. “Astronomy?” he asks, tentatively.
“It changes everything,” Nicolò says, rifling through it. “Look, see here—” he taps an image of many concentric circles, “—look at the centre.”
Yusuf does as he is told, and whistles. “The Sun, hm?”
Nicolò nods, picking up the book again. “This is incredible. It makes so much sense.” He sits heavily in the chair, flicking through to the tables. “We are tethered to the Sun, all of us. It is a great dance, and we are but one of the dancers.”
Yusuf hums, and when Nicolò looks up at him, he has a besotted look on his face.
“When you think of the sciences, you become a poet,” he says, and Nicolò turns pink. He closes his book and sets it on the table, a hand upon it, but his eyes do not leave Yusuf’s.
“There are wonders both down here and up there, my love,” he says. “And we might live long enough to see them learnt.”
--
“Look, see there!”
Nicolò takes the telescope from Galileo’s hands with unhidden reverence, swallowing. With this, he will see further than most other people on Earth ever have, beyond the edges of their own sky into the very firmament they once thought so fixed. All those men who wrote those treatises he devoured five hundred years ago – Aratus of Soli, Aryabhata, Ptolemy, Albumasar, Al Bitruji, a hundred others – would have given their own weight in gold to see what he will see now. He trembles slightly as he raises it to his eye.
The night is balmy, thick with the heat of the Tuscan summer, and the sky is a brilliantly clear mass of studded stars. He has seen those a thousand times before, charted them, he knows the names of the constellations in five languages. The Moon is a crisp sliver, a cat’s claw, and beyond that… Jupiter.
Brighter than he’s ever seen it, and scattered around it, four dots. His breath hitches.
“Moons,” he says, and Galileo rubs his hands together.
“Exactly, my lad!”
Nicolò lowers the telescope, gazing up with his naked eyes. Jupiter shrinks, and its pinprick companions vanish into nothing, merging with the rest of the many, many stars above them. It is a strange contrast, he thinks, how much smaller the vastness looks when viewed through Galileo’s device, and how much smaller he himself feels when the great dome of the night sky is above them, clear from horizon to horizon.
“Wondrous,” he murmurs. Galileo tugs on his beard, clearly pleased with himself, but the compliment was not for him, and not even for his device.
No matter how close the sky might seem, it is still so very far away.
--
Andy had not been pleased when he’d asked.
“You want to interrupt our mission to watch some TV?!” she snaps. Nicky’s heart was thudding.
“Please, Andy,” he begs. “I have to see this. I have to.”
“We’re in the middle of the fucking jungle!” she hisses, gesturing around them. Nicky can see that, it’s where they’ve been for months and months now, border-hopping, skulking, getting themselves burnt and torn to shreds and blown to smithereens over and over and over, every life saved a hard-won blessing. But this…
“Please. Anywhere with a television, I don’t care.”
She turns away from him as if disgusted with him, and that makes his heart constrict. He hates to disappoint her like this.
“He never requests anything, Andy,” Joe says, his voice far more vicious than usual. This meatgrinder of a war has been taking its toll on him, and when Joe becomes bitter, it is a sign things are going very, very badly. “You can at least give him this!”
“I agree,” Booker says, and both Nicky and Joe look at him in surprise. “I want out of this shithole for a moment too, honestly.”
Andy runs a hand down her face. The bags beneath her eyes are deep, and her eyes have a dead-fish look to them. It’s a look that’s mirrored on all of them, and they have seen so much war already, centuries, millennia of it.
“Fine,” she mutters. “We might even get to Hanoi in time.”
Nicky is rarely effusive with anyone but Joe, but he throws his arms around her, holding her desperately tight.
“Thank you! Thank you!” He is grateful in every language he knows, and a miraculous sound occurs to that: she laughs. He can’t remember the last time she laughed. Thin, reedy, a vaporous, ephemeral thing, but it’s still a laugh.
They don’t make it to Hanoi, unfortunately – that was always a fool’s gambit anyway – but they stumble into Vinh Vien. It is mostly ruins, a sight that twists itself like a knife in Nicky’s gut, but it seems some mad luck is with them: they do find a television that is intact, and works, and a generator Andy siphons some of their precious petrol into. Some curious children wander over, bewildered by the sight of these foreigners fiddling with a television, and Booker gestures them over, offering them Russian sweets which they take with bright grins and giggles.
They crowd around it, the four of them on upturned crates and the children clustered in front, and are joined by some adults, desperate for a distraction. They amass quite the audience.
Nicky explains, in his Vietnamese scattered with quaint, ancient words he hasn’t quite gotten rid of yet, what is happening.
“The Moon?” an old man asks, dubious.
“The Moon,” Nicky replies, a lump in his throat.
He watches, transfixed, as the module touches down. The view is monotonous, a flat plain of grey rock to a black horizon, but he almost cannot breathe: this is as far as humanity has ever gone. He watches the man in the bulky suit descend the ladder and touch the surface, and it doesn’t matter that this man is American, just as it did not matter that Yuri Gagarin was Soviet. What do these petty Earthly feuds matter so far away? There is only wonder and mystery, and the breathless revelation of knowledge.
(Yes, he knows well this is a pissing contest between children, but does not care, in this moment.)
The children around them break into shrill cheers. He gasps softly. “One small step for a man” indeed.
Joe, beside him, threads their fingers together, and Nicky’s squeezes them because he cannot tear his gaze away, even to look at the love of his life. Booker whistles, leans over to Andy.
“Did you ever dream we’d do this, six thousand years ago?” he asks. Andy is quiet for a long moment.
“Everything was so much smaller then,” she says, her voice cracking. “And yet so much bigger.”
That is precisely how Nicky feels, though he couldn’t possibly find the words right now. They are sitting in the ruins of a city, years into a seemingly never-ending war which does nothing but tear people to pieces with no objective or remorse, and yet… and yet Nicky feels a kernel of hope within him.
“Do you think,” he murmurs, leaning his head closer to Joe’s, “that we will ever go beyond?”
“Who knows, my love… We have already gone further than we ever dreamt. How much further can space be?”
Nicky chuckles, and squeezes Joe’s hand once more.
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kabie-whump · 3 days
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✧・゚ Ripe, About to Fall - Part 11 ✧・゚
This is an 18+ slowish burn pet-whump story with added romance.
Title from 'Liquid Smooth' by Mitski
Series First | Previous Summary: Ventis still isn't talking, and Athos takes advantage of it. Theodore visits Athos and has a chat with Ventis. Content: non-con oral onscreen, beating mentions, degradation, trauma-induced muteness?, character death mention, (let me know if I missed a tag I'm brain soup right now)
Onthyes does not belong to me. He was created by my wonderful gf @sapphicccici and I have kidnapped him.
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Ventis’s whole body ached as he sat at his master’s feet. It’s been at least two years since he was last beaten as badly as he was yesterday, but still not a word escaped his lips. 
He didn’t really know why he wasn’t talking. He’d like to believe it to be a brave act of rebellion, except he really did want to give in. He didn’t like being beaten up, didn’t like the threat in Athos’s eyes every time he responded to a question with a nod or shake of his head. Ventis was a lot of things, but he wouldn’t consider himself to be brave.
But the words just wouldn’t leave his lips, no matter how desperately he tried to convince them to.
At least he didn’t have to wear such revealing clothing today, since Athos wanted to keep the worst of the bruises hidden.
“He really is beautiful, Mr. Landleigh. You’re a lucky man.”
Ventis blinked himself out of his thoughts, glancing up at the source of the words. Dwen. One of Athos’s newest business partners - a man probably only ten years older than Ventis. He stood out in a room otherwise filled with people old enough to be Ventis’s parents or even grandparents. Dwen was a hungry young man in more ways than one, and he never kept his eyes to himself.
“Indeed,” Athos hummed, reaching down to pat Venits’s head. Ventis couldn’t help but lean into the touch, finding comfort in the gentleness despite its source. “He requires a fair amount of training and upkeep, but he’s certainly worth the trouble.”
“I’ve been considering getting a pet of my own. You do nothing but rave about yours. But I fear it would be challenging to find one that lives up to him.”
Ventis looks up at Athos, watching a smirk cross the man’s face. The look that means he’s up to something, and Ventis isn’t going to like it.
Athos ran his fingertips along Ventis’s cheek lovingly. “Isn’t that sweet, treasure? My friend here envies your rare beauty. Do you want to give him a taste of what it’s like to own you?”
Ventis swallowed hard, shaking his head. He knew exactly what Athos meant. Athos had let his friends use him before, but it was a rare occurrence and only when he was particularly upset with him.
 “Hm. I don’t hear a ‘no’.” Athos said with a grin. “That’s very generous of you, darling.” He stood, grabbing Ventis by a horn and dragging him over to kneel in front of Dwen.
Dwen smiled down at Ventis, his hands moving to his belt. 
Ventis’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach.
“I know you haven’t been feeling well recently,” Athos said, leaning down to speak softly into Ventis’s ear. “If you aren’t up for this, just tell me. I can make it all stop.”
Ventis shook his head again, pleading with his eyes. 
Athos’s lips were still set in a smile, but his eyes shone with disappointment. “Oh, you don’t want to stop? Alright then. He’s all yours, Dwen.”
Ventis steeled himself as Athos returned to his seat and struck up a casual conversation with his other partners. He could deal with this. He had plenty of experience. It wouldn’t kill him, and his veins were thumming with Nightspill, helpfully numbing the sharper of his emotions. 
I’m fine. I can handle this.
Dwen’s hand found Ventis’s hair, guiding him in closer until his lips touched hot flesh.
Just tune it out. 
Ventis closed his eyes, praying that Dwen would at least be gentle. Not that anyone ever was. His training took over and he opened his mouth. His fangs dug into the scarred-over spots on the inside of his lips. Better they pierce his own skin than the skin of his master, and the taste of blood wasn’t too bad once he got used to it.
Ugh. He needs to bathe.
Ventis focused on shutting down his need to breathe. He wouldn’t (couldn’t) choke, thanks to his elemental ancestry. That didn’t stop his throat from burning at the slight stretch. He clenched his fists in his lap.
Dwen let out a shaky groan, his hands grabbing for his horns to pull him even closer. “He’s… cold,” Dwen said with a chuckle. “Even on the inside. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“An air genasi quirk,” Athos quipped. “Not every man’s cup of tea, but I find it quite enjoyable. If it’s too bothersome I have a fix for that.”
Ventis couldn’t help but whimper at the thought. The ‘fix’ in question involved him chugging scalding hot water. He hadn’t been able to swallow without pain for a week after the last time. 
“It’s alright. He’s plenty tight, so I don’t mind it.”
Thank the gods.
Luckily, Dwen didn’t last long. The men Athos lended him to rarely did. As awful as his situation was, Ventis found himself somewhat prideful of his skill in this area. He couldn’t step outside on his own, but at least he could deliver a world-shattering orgasm in mere minutes when he needed to. 
He returned to his place in front of Athos, subtly stretching his sore knees as a nearby servant rushed over to fix his hair and wipe his face clean and polish the fingerprints off of his horns. Ventis’s tongue ran over the twin spots inside his upper lip where his fangs had inevitably pierced the skin. The blood masked Dwen’s taste well. Still, he was grateful when Athos offered him a sip of wine.
The guests left soon after, leaving Ventis and Athos alone. Ventis looked up at his master, unable to stop himself from glaring at the man.
“I asked you if you wanted it,” Athos said with a shrug. “You didn’t say no.”
The two spent the next couple of hours outside in the garden, in a sitting area under the shade of a tree. Ventis allowed himself to enjoy it - the taste of fresh fruit on his tongue, the sounds of wind rustling leaves and soft flutter of Athos turning the pages of his book, the scent of roses. Seated at his master’s feat like always, Ventis rested his head against his thigh and closed his eyes, clinging to the sliver of peace.
Ventis heard a servant appear and have a short conversation with Athos, but he didn’t care to decipher the words. The servant left and Ventis started to drift off, lulled towards sleep by Athos’s fingers in his hair.
Then, “Ah, the young Lord Riinturuth returns!”
Ventis sat up straight with a jolt, his eyes snapping open. There, escorted by the butler, was his younger brother, Theodore. Ventis squinted at him, curious about why he had returned after that awful dinner, but Theodore made a point of not even glancing in his direction. His eyes were on Athos alone.
“Come, sit down! What brings you back to my humble manor, my Lord?”
Anyone else would find Athos’s voice nothing aside from welcoming, but Ventis knew better. He knew that edge of caution hiding under his words. 
Theodore sat in a plush chair and the butler poured him a glass of wine. “Please, just call me Theodore, Mr. Landleigh. There is no need for formalities with me. I come to you today as little more than a student.”
Ventis resisted the urge to snort. Theodore was never the ‘student’ type. He’d always been more interested in hunting and fighting and honing his magic.
“Oh? You intrigue me, Theodore. Do go on.”
“Well, I have a request for you. You are an influential person in this city, which is why my father wanted us to have dinner together at the start of my stay here. But the truth is, he looks down upon those who find their power through economic pursuits. To him, business is too fickle of a thing to rest your legacy on.”
Athos hummed, displeased.
“But I could not help but respect you, sir,” Theodore pressed on. “Being born into power is one thing, but having the ability to take it for yourself? To me, that is much more impressive. My time in Nimbria was only meant for me to study leadership with the Venturas, but I believe it would benefit me to learn from you as well. If you will have me, I would love to observe your business practices from time to time. And in return I can promise that your business will always have a friend in my kingdom’s ports.”
Athos considered Theodore with a raised brow. “And you are certain that this proposition has nothing to do with your long lost brother here?” Athos’s hand rested atop Ventis’s head.
Theodore’s eyes flicked to Ventis for a second before he fixed his gaze on Athos once more. “I can assure you, sir, that he means nothing to me. It is thanks to his absence from home that I was able to ascend to my position as our father’s heir. Our shared past will cause no issue.”
Athos hummed, absentmindedly stroking Ventis’s hair as he thought. “Very well. I have no children of my own, so maybe it will do me some good to have an eager young mind to shape.”
“Thank you, sir. You will not regret this.”
The two sat and chatted for a while as Ventis tried to come to terms with the fact that his brother would be coming by even more after this. Had he not been humiliated enough already?
“Ventis, go fetch more wine,” Athos said after he and Theodore had finished off what was left of the previous bottle.
Ventis stood with a short nod and walked inside.
Moments later, as he was just passing through the doorway into the servant’s corridors, a hand grabbed his arm. He gasped sharply as the fingers dug into bruises. Ventis turned, his eyes going wide when he saw his brother staring back at him.
“Jasper,” Theodore said, his voice low. “I’m here to rescue you.”
Ventis took a small step back, shaking Theodore’s hand off of his arm. Why was everyone trying to save him all of a sudden? More importantly, why would Theodore want to save him? They’ve always been rivals. Theodore said himself just earlier today that Ventis’s absence had been good for him. Ventis couldn’t believe for a second that Theodore actually cared what happened to him. His actions five years ago had proven that all too well.
How was Ventis supposed to believe that the very same person who had singlehandedly ruined his life actually wanted to help him?
Theodore definitely saw the blatant disbelief and confusion on Ventis’s face. He leaned in closer, dropping his voice even lower.
“Listen, brother. While you are still under Landleigh’s thumb, Onthyes Ventura will not train me, and that is the entire reason I am in this city in the first place. I am helping you whether you want me to or not, so I suggest you make this easy on both of us and not be so fucking stubborn for once.”
Ventis’s heart stopped.
“Onthyes is alive?”
Those were the first words he had spoken in days. They came out as a broken whisper. A tiny sliver of hope in a world that had seemed so dark for so long.
Theodore looked taken aback. “Yes, of course he is.”
“I…” Ventis sunk to the ground, squatting on his heels and threading his fingers through his hair. His breaths came with far too much difficulty and his vision blurred. “I thought he was dead.”
Suddenly, everything was different. There was hope. And Ventis didn’t know what to do with it. He choked out a sob, covering his face with both hands.
“Jas- Ventis?” He could feel Theodore getting closer and squatting down in front of him. 
“How?” Ventis croaked. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”
“After he failed to rescue you, his guard friends knocked him out and left him there. They didn’t kill him.”
“I-If you’re lying, Theo-”
“I’m not lying. He can’t come to see you himself, obviously, so I’ve come in his place. I will get close with Landleigh, and at the first opportunity I will get you out of here. But you have to work with me. You have to trust me.”
Ventis glared at Theodore through his tears. “Trust you? After what you did to me? Are you joking?”
Annoyance flashed across Theodore’s face before he schooled his expression back into neutrality. “You’re still on about that? It was five years ago. I was fourteen. Grow up and move on.”
“Move on?” Ventis hissed. “That would be easy for you, wouldn’t it? You’re not the one who…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the word. They both knew what it was anyway, and it hung between them, unspoken.
Died.
“You came out fine in the end,” Theodore muttered. “I am not responsible for the way you decided to cope.”
Ventis glared at the wall behind Theodore. “I do not want your help.”
“You do not have a choice. Onthyes is useless to me without you.”
Theodore extended a hand down to Ventis. Ventis glared at it, then rose to his feet on his own.
“Like it or not,” Theodore continued, “I am currently your only hope of seeing him again. I can not force you to cooperate with your own rescue, but I would encourage you to think it over.”
With that he left Ventis alone, headed for the exit. Ventis took a moment to collect himself, scrubbing tears away with his sleeves, before he resumed his journey to the wine celler. 
When he returned to Athos’s side with a fresh bottle the man’s eyes searched his face immediately. Ventis glanced away with hope that he wouldn’t notice his watery, red rimmed eyes. 
Athos took Ventis by the chin, forcing his face up towards his own. There was a little smile on his face as he brushed his thumb across Ventis’s bottom lip.
“You look beautiful today, treasure,” Athos said gently.
“Thank you, master.”
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I'm sorry this one took so long omg. I'm at a point in this story where I just want to skip to the recovery but I gotta get there first, so I keep writing scenes for the future because that's more exciting to me right now. Luckily, that means I'm impatient and Ventis is probably going to get out in the next chapter or two! Yay!
@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet
@sleepyiswhumping @bitchaknso @unicornbeck @wounds-seen-and-unseen @3-2-whump
@looptheloup @rainydaywhump
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storytellering · 10 months
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the moment I see someone unironically make a "deadweight" nero joke or seriously refer to him as "deadweight" i know i can't trust them
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hauntingblue · 3 months
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Zoro was about to tell luffy off for making a scene but luffy just says some guys spilled red bean soup and he starts to make a worse one. Amazing
#broon took robins place.... so is she just gonna walk????? damn....#zoro fucking people up for making fun of hungry people..... yeah yeah yeah#now it's luffy's turn.... THEY SPILLED THE RED BEAN SOUP ON LUFFY IT'S GOING DOWN#everyone looks so good with these outfits.... horns really do compliment anyone....#episode 984#kaido wants to marry yamato to one of big mom's sons.... or she wont consider them allies i know it....#kid has kimg's haki too??? and zoro... they do really give that to anyone....#drops of red bean soup on luffy's face to look like tears... (to me)#luffy eating all the soup..... he should take it outside back to the boat akdhsksjk OKUBORE PEOPLE WE ARE EATING TONIGHT!!!#oh jesus.... elephant gun in the middle of the party.... zoro going to the conflict ahdkajs of course#they turned on the lights and everything... WHY did zoro slice the building??? 😭😭#episode 985#talking tag#watching one piece#they are gonna show that scene of tama eating soup 84 more fucking times#'are you happy now?' 'yeah' 'let's run then' INCREDIBLE#APOO TURN THAT SHIT DOWN!!! WHAT IS THAT!!! BOOOOO!!!#THAT DOESN'T EVEN RHYME!!! GET DOWN OF THAT STAGE!!#luffy biting that dog akshakskq#zoro fucking!!! slash him!! do a projectile slash or whatever!! you know how!!#FUCK HIM UP KID YEAAAH!!!!!! NO ANOTHER ONE FOR GOOD MEASURE!!! JUST IN CASE!!#episode 986#do kaido and the others not hear all this???? its right on their castle door akdhsksj#his ass is not uncoscious yet!!! quit the yapping and hit him again kid!!! SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!! SUCK THE BLOOD OUT OF HIS VEINS!! ENOUGH!!#he needs to pull some magneto shit right now!!!#sanji seeing shinobu ball crush some guys and sanji wondering if he would want to try it too!!! I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SANJI!! 🫵🏻🤨#a tobi roopo has a burdel..... sanji is dying this fight.... this is his final arc.... goodbye sanji... what a shame...#nvm the brothel is empty... sanji gets to live another day#killer ate the fruit to save his captain!!! omg!!! ORICHI WHEN I GET YOU!! Exactly kid kill them all.... fuck em and apoo too.#episode 987
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pocketlad · 11 months
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I missed an important anniversary of mine!
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luveline · 27 days
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Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!
ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k
cw reader has a concussion
Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 
You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 
He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 
“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 
Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 
“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 
He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 
“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 
Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 
You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 
“Hi Hotch.” 
“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 
“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”
“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 
“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 
Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 
“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 
“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 
JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 
He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 
You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 
She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 
“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 
Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 
You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 
Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 
“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 
JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   
Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 
JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 
He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 
You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 
You nod into your rubbing. 
“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 
“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 
“Do you need help?” 
“Not for the fruit.” 
“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 
“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 
He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 
“You could be a doctor.” 
“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 
“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 
“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 
You stare up at him. “You want to?” 
“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 
“My boyfriend might not like it.” 
Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 
“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 
You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 
That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.
You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 
“Sorry,” he murmurs. 
“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 
“Why not?” 
“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 
“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 
He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 
“Yes?” 
You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 
“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 
“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 
“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 
“Why?” 
“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 
You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 
Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 
“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 
“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 
“I’d like to go back.” 
“Home?” 
“For breakfast.” 
“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 
“What?” you ask. 
You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 
He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 
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aziraphale-is-a-cat · 9 months
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DPxDC Warlock Batfamily
They're not warlocks in the traditional sense, no fancy spell work or obvious theming. In fact, most anyone less magically attune than John would just assume they were metas like anyone else on the team, but they weren't.
It took a while to notice, just passing off the magical fluctuations around them as the ebb and flow of the natural world, or maybe some residual curse vibes from Gotham (ew). But it was too consistent. When Batman slipped into the shadows it pulsed, and when Oracle seized control of nearby computers it surged. When Nightwing took his inhuman leaps into the air simply trusting that he would reach his lading point it soared and when that nightmare of a Robin brought a room to darkness it rested like a heavy weight on his shoulders.
They weren't individual users, their eclectically cohesive group structure was too uniform for that; but they weren't some family of sorcerers either, being quite obviously unrelated by blood save for a few. The most likely answer was that they were all warlocks in service to some common diety, taking on aspects of its power to enforce it's will upon the mortal world- and John really hoped it was a helpful entity, because they were in deep shit.
Peeling the partially liquefied tentacle off from across his chest, Constantine sat up and brought his hand up to cup his bruised face. He prayed to whatever was least likely to hold a grudge that their little hail Mary there had bought them enough time to perform a summoning.
"Hey Bat, get your patron on the phone, this is getting fucking Eldritch."
"What the hell are you talking about," Hal Jordan pushed himself out of the rubble with a massive green fist construct. "Bats isn't a magic user."
"Hm." Batman grunted as he picked bone shards out of his gauntlets. "I'll need to get something for the ritual."
Everyone present sat up to look at him like he'd grown another head, except Superman and Wonder Woman who seemed a little excited.
"I'm sorry, you're a magician?" The Flash pipes up from behind the ruins of an old altar, only to receive a level glare from his black clad coworker.
"Warlock."
"Oh."
Constantine grabbed onto some chains hanging from the precariously damaged ceiling, rising to his feet. "We don't have much time; that thing's off licking its wounds in space or something, but it'll be back. You go off and collect whatever artefact you have from wherever you hid it and I'll start drawing the circle, where are we pulling your Patron from?"
Batman nodded in agreement. "The Infinite Realms."
"Fucking Hell."
-
The Watch Tower was crowded when Batman returned flanked by two other members for his little hero coven, carrying a small case decorated with constellations and nebulae.
Wonder Woman stepped up to look at the container, obviously curious, but not touching it.
"It will be wonderful to see him again, Batman. After this is dealt with I hope to hear the tales of my sisters from beyond."
"He'll definitely be happy to chat after we're done," Nightwing commented. "I hear he's been training with Pandora."
Red Robin nodded to that, an exasperated look on his face as he likely anticipated a long and drawn out conversation about different kinds of swords. Amazons liked their blades.
John gave that idea some concideration, Amazonian ghosts probably get up to some killer fights without having to worry about, ya know, death. He called out to the Dark Knight, "I've got the circle done, now we just need your call."
The three of them walk over to the summoning circle unceremoniously carved into the watch tower floor, Batman narrowing his eyes at the damaged paneling but saying nothing otherwise. The Dark Knight opens the case in his hands and pulls out what appears to be a small model space station.
The Coven spread themselves evenly around the circumference of the circle and Batman begins the ritual. "Salve patrōnem, egō stellam vocō." He throws the model space station into the circle where it appeared to float as the symbols in the ground lit up.
Slowly, a figure formed in the center, first as hands holding the model and spreading out over its arms and to its body in the shape of a young boy. He seemed to be wearing a black rubber hazmat suit with white accents and green lichtenberg figures crawling up his left arm. White hair appeared and with it piercing green eyes that seemed to be fixed on the toy in his hands. A cape flowed out behind him less like fabric and more like the endless void of space littered with stars and a cold weight settled on the room.
"Damn B, y'all really fucked up the floor this time."
Red Robin snorted, "Nice to see you too, Danny."
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phyrestartr · 1 month
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Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.1)
W/C: 3.5k #full is NSFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, mentions of abuse, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna has FEELINGS but is BAD AT FEELINGS, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, soz if anything is clunky asdkjf; i can only reread the same fic so many times for editing sadge
A/N: Decided to separate this into parts since I'm dying to post some of it lol I've held it in a chokehold in the shadows of my WIPs for too long, some of it has to come out before I explode o(--( there is more to come!
tag: @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9
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The scripture was incomplete, worn away by age.
…herein lays the God...imprisoned...by...Disgraced One…
Yet the society felt this, the coffin uncovered decades ago, could be an invaluable asset. The vessel was decrepit and ancient, yet still stood strong against the test of time and the wear of nature. Seal papers, no doubt left by a monk of sorts, covered the entirety of its surface, hiding away rotting wood and rusted bands of metal from modern sorcerer's curious eyes.
Few knew why the higher ups kept the vessel under lock and key. Fewer knew why they kept it at all; however, those few understood the importance of such a relic. They'd been the ones to seek it out, to steal it away before malicious forces took it for themselves, warping the supposed deity inside for their own, malevolent purpose, whatever that may be.
And with Ryoumen Sukuna's fingers being found one by one, they could not allow anyone to possess humanity's failsafe: you. A great being imprisoned by the devil.
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“Anything?” Gojo trilled, patting Yuuji’s shoulders frantically as he stood behind him and beheld the wooden tub covered in sigils. 
“Uh…” Yuuji tried to focus on Sukuna’s presence inside of him. He didn’t seem intrigued or frightened, nor did he seem too bothered with the idea of them trying to smite him down with a sealed god–he was, however, annoyed that Yuuji continued to poke and prod at him. 
Piss off, runt. 
“Yep. Nope. Sukuna doesn't care,” Yuuji sighed. “He's getting all pissy now that I'm bothering him, though.” 
Gojo laughed and patted Yuuji's shoulders a few more times before all but twirling towards the bound box. “Well, that's a pretty good sign that he's not the one that did this, then! In that case,” he started, walking up to the seal papers keeping everything locked down, “let's pop ‘er open.” 
Before Yuuji could even wonder if that was a good idea, the white-haired witch used an overzealous amount of cursed energy and disintegrated every scrap of seal paper. 
Yuuji braced for impact. Surely something terrible like a bankai or a spirit bomb would send them flying once the coffin came undone. Surely they'd pay for this, for unleashing whatever godly spirit laid locked up for far too long, only to release it back into the modern age and–
“Huh. Weird.”
Yuuji cracked open an eye and saw the dull shine of tattered onyx fur, and his control slipped with a blitz of vertigo. 
Markings flared across his skin as he stormed toward the coffin, heart howling with thoughts and memories crashing through a shared mind; a face he didn't know but knew so well bloomed at the forefront of it all, eyes framed in pointed scarlet, skin bathed in ancient, dappled sunlight.
They reached the edge of the coffin and gripped the edges, splintering the wood as they took in the sight; crimson and curse decay pooled around a figure, curled up and half-submerged. Several black, tattered tails spilled free from the tub, no longer crushed from the force of the lid sealing them inside, but they were bent awkwardly and matted with whatever tincture lay at the bottom.
Then there was the so-called god in the middle of it all–you. Still. Quiet. Curled up in a haori far too big for you. Eyes closed. Almost peaceful.
Confusion tore at Sukuna while nausea ripped through Yuuji; he couldn't bear to look at such a morose scene.
So, Sukuna pushed him aside.
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[Heian Era]
You were never supposed to be anything more than a trinket. 
You were a gift from some family trying to show off for Sukuna, so much so that they offered him a delicacy, something he surely didn't have yet–a yokai. A kitsune, to be more exact. One with peculiar black tails. 
Sukuna found it interesting, and similarly desperate, to be brought such a creature as tribute. Certainly, it was meant to be seen as a high honour, yet somehow it felt…off. Why would humans give up something so powerful? 
Unexpectedly, it'd be you who told him. 
They submit me for the sake of convenience and mockery, your withering voice whispered where no one else could hear. You sounded weak. Tired. Maybe afraid, yet brave enough to reach towards the king and unveil the intentions of the men who brought you before him. 
Sukuna's eyes flicked to you, his feigned interest in what the sorcerers said falling straight into dismissal. You were much more intriguing. 
“Oh?” Sukuna asked, a smile creeping onto his face. The speakers ceased their jabbering and stared at your back with fierce intensity. Sukuna grinned wider. Oh, how he loved the way fear twisted mortal faces. 
You didn't shift or crumple into yourself under the eyes of so many, however. You pushed on with what little energy and life you had, so intent on dragging that clan through the mud. 
What I say is true, you assured simply. I expect to die today–
“Speak so everyone hears you, fox,” Sukuna commanded.
“--so I–I–” you coughed and cleared your throat, trying to rid your voice of the scratchy, weakness it struggled through. “I wish to not die with regrets.
"They have rendered me ill and unable to produce children, they see the black of my tails and regard me as an ill omen; yet they bring me to you, daring to spin sweet tales about the value of such an offering. But they lie,” You hissed. Your eyes glinted with molten malice, and Sukuna fell captivated.
“They throw me to you as they would diseased meat to dogs.” 
The courtyard fell silent, and Sukuna basked in it. You really were such a little troublemaker. A quietly chaotic force of nature. 
The king stood, rolling his shoulders as he did, and his pride flared as you dropped to your knees before him in respect. He walked to you and patted your head as one might a child's before appraising the sorcerers stood before him. 
“What a disappointment,” Sukuna sighed, raising another hand. The couple took up position, pooling their cursed energy in hopes of fending off the monster standing before them. The effort was quite cute. “Here I thought your clan might actually earn my mercy.” His hand dropped as the two lunged. Then, the two clansmen fell, too, both in neat, vertical halves. Quite overkill, yes, but he had a point to make. 
Where he expected a reaction from you, he got nothing. Only panting and poorly-stifled coughs came from you, racking through the entirety of your skin and bones frame. Sukuna could see it up close now, the way your body trembled from fatigue, the sickly greying of your skin, the scent of disease clinging to you. 
That wouldn't do. Sukuna liked his things to be in good shape. 
“Uraume,” Sukuna droned as he stared down at you, “fix this.”
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It took some time, but you managed to recover. It was an unnerving experience, with the way Uraume tended to you with sincerity. Perhaps it was genuinity born from their devotion to Ryoumen Sukuna, but you greedily soaked it in, filling your stomach with the care they offered you. 
Sukuna didn't bother much with you, not that you really minded; you were much more content to be fed and forgotten than hunted down by the creature that supposedly took ownership of you without enforcing it. If he didn't cause harm or good, if he simply existed somewhere else and forgot you breathed the same air as him, you'd still be at peace. 
But he was more intrigued than you gave him credit for. 
“Ho? So this is where you scamper off to,” Sukuna hummed, leaning over you as you dozed in the nice little spot you'd made for yourself in the garden, right under the crimson cover of a maple tree. You jumped the slightest bit, your daydreams and sunbathing interrupted by the brute’s silhouette eclipsing the sun, but you settled again quickly. The beast of a man wasn't a cause for panic in your little world, after all. 
“Does it displease you?” You inquired, fixing your hair and straightening out your robes. 
Sukuna held onto an overhead branch of the tree as he looked down at you. “Pets are supposed to play in the yard, aren't they?” He smirked as you pursed your lips and flicked your tail before calming it with hasty pets. “What, you don't like being my pet?” 
“I would not refer to myself as a pet,” you countered as the man sat down with you and leaned against the tree. The king's presence calmed you. With him, you knew you were invincible. 
“Pft. Then pray tell what your damn role is around here.” One set of arms folded behind his head while the other set crossed over his chest. “Pets are freeloaders. Pretty sure that's exactly what you are.”
You huffed. “Freeloader. Tch. How rude.” 
“Lookit that. You're copping an attitude now that you're fat and fed. Used to be so much more polite.” 
“Fat and–I am not fat.” You headbutted his side lightly, something that would make more sense had you been in your fox form. You grinding your forehead against him suggested this was more of a human move, however. “I am perfectly normal now. I was brittle and nonexistent prior to now. This is a grand improvement.”
Sukuna scoffed a laugh and looked down at your head pressed up against his side. “Thanks to me,” he boasted. 
“Yes,” you agreed. You held onto his haori and looked up at him, placid and intense. “It is thanks to you. I would not be here if not for your mercy and intervention.” 
Sukuna raised a brow as he regarded you. “Hm. And what will you do to repay me?” 
“My very presence grants you luck, good fortune and fertility.” You tilted your head. “I already repay you by being here.”
Tch. But the gardens and surrounding lands did look more lush and lively since your arrival, he couldn't deny that fact. But he was a king; he could always ask for more and expect to get it. 
“What more?” He prodded.
Your tail flicked as you thought. “What would you ask of me?” 
“Something you haven't given another,” Sukuna replied. Ugh, your flowery, poetry-y, bullshit speak was rubbing off on him. 
You stared at him, gemstone eyes glinting with earthen hues and shards of gold in the yawning afternoon sun. The leaves bristled just perfectly, letting in dapples of citrus sunlight as if trying to make this moment something special, as if to burn your ethereal presence into history for all eternity. All this, just while you thought of what to give him. Perhaps a riddle is what you wanted. Perhaps purple prose suited your fancy. Perhaps it was something else. 
You sat up, carefully raising yourself onto your knees before leaning up towards the hulking king. He turned his face to you in interest, feeling a sort of natural energy begin to pool around the both of you, reaching from the far depths of the earth and the wide stretch of the sky to converge on your existence as you framed his face with gentle hands, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. 
It lasted only a second. But a second was long enough to catch the scent of petrichor and petals on your skin, to indulge in the heat of wildfires raging in your soul, to feel the blasphemy of you against him; then, you parted. 
“For now,” you murmured, and Sukuna swore he saw your single tail fan out into nine, “I give you my divine favor, Ryoumen Sukuna.”
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You wondered if your favor was enough. He'd been gone some time, off to accept a duel from the snotty shitheads Sukuna had received you from. Apparently, having two of the eldest boys murdered rubbed them the wrong way. Sukuna was glad for it, you knew–the man lived and breathed for a fight. 
Of course, you stayed put. Uraume assured you'd be fine on your own, and Sukuna reminded his staff they'd all be eaten alive by the king himself if anything uncouth were to take place in his absence. It was more so that Sukuna didn't like the idea of idiots touching his stuff than it was the notion you were important to him, from your understanding. 
Regardless, the time alone left you restless. That king made you invincible. Without him, you were nothing more than the scared kit locked away in darkness, never to emerge lest your stubbornness trick them. But things were different here. Everyday was filled with unknowns and uncertainties when the two you'd forged fragile bonds with fell absent. 
So, you thought of how to repay Sukuna. Your divine favor would only do so much, after all–you didn't think a man like that really needed the extra luck, but he seemed more than intrigued by the manner of delivering the blessing; you remembered how he looked at you, eyes half-lidded, shielding you from the inferno burning out of control. He grumbled something low in his chest, just loud enough that you heard: 
You better be here when I get back.
“Ah–” The thrill those catastrophic words gave you nearly led to stabbing yourself with the needle. You tutted and regained focus, continuing to carefully embroider the sleeves of one of Sukuna's many plain black haori.
You learned how to sew and embroider from watching an elder from that clan work her magic on old, tattered clothes. She never spoke to you nor regarded you, but she never turned you away the rare times you watched her fix garments; you thought it was beautiful–the art of turning something mundane into something meaningful.
Though you wondered if Ryoumen Sukuna, the most powerful sorcerer, the most feared man alive, had a desire for anything useless and meaningful. 
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The answer came quickly. You'd found yourself void of confidence when the monarch returned to his palace after (obviously) winning whatever duel he'd agreed to; you weren't sure if you were to congratulate him, celebrate him or something more. On top of that, he'd eventually find that haori you'd slaved over for days, and you weren't sure you could take the heartbreak of dismissal. 
However, those fears were quashed when, from a new little secret garden hovel, you spied the man donning the very haori you slaved over; it wasn't a flashy piece, you didn't want to subtract from the marvel that was the king of curses, so you opted for using black, shimmery thread to weave intricate twisting trees and blackened blooms along the sleeve. Only if the design caught the light would one be able to notice it. 
But that was enough for you. Knowing he accepted such a meaningless gift was reassuring of your place in his world. 
So, you finally let Uraume convince you to stay in the room they'd prepared for you. 
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“No need to be nervous,” you hummed, that undying urge inside you to take care of something helping you soothe the young woman's nerves. You fixed her hair, your deft fingers carefully slipping strands into place before sliding a decorative pin in to hold it all together. You took a step back to appraise her, Sukuna's latest concubine. 
“I–thank you.” Sachiko blushed fiercely and bowed the slightest bit, not risking a deep bow for the fear of her hair falling loose. “I can see why all the girls love you.” 
You laughed, low and warm. “Well, it's hard not to love someone who takes care of you, no?” Gently, you tilted her chin up and leaned in, carefully examining the red lacquer staining her lips. The colour matched her kimono and the gems in that exquisite hairpin keeping dark locks at bay. “But I'm glad. I know it's difficult to find respite in these times.” 
Sachiko held her breath as she looked over the natural paint of crimson adorning your eyes. “I-I, um–yes, I do agree.” 
You hummed and carefully fixed the smallest smudge on the corner of her mouth. “Mh. So I hope you do your best to please him.” 
“I will!” Sachiko promised. “But–I wish to–may I give you something?” 
“Of course.” 
She gathered her kimono up in her hands and leaned up toward you. You leaned down, expecting a secret or hushed words, but perfect red lips pressed against your skin instead. And you were dumbfounded; you'd never been kissed before. You'd never had a lady show that interest in you. 
Sachiko got down from her tiptoes and hid her mouth with her sleeve. “Just for good luck!” She squeaked before bowing and hastily running through the doors where Sukuna would no doubt be waiting for his woman for the evening’s events. 
You looked at the doors sliding closed and caught a glimpse of Sukuna stood before the young woman, his frame swallowing hers as you looked on. And you caught a glimpse of his eyes, his stare of shock and utter vexation–clearly, he'd seen the short woman give you a kiss for good luck. 
You turned away, choosing to abandon the girl to her demise as your fingers ghosted against your lips in wonder. 
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He showed up in your chambers later that night. You were still awake, quietly embroidering another haori; this time, it was for Uraume. They insisted they didn't want to burden you, but they crumbled under your more insistent insistence, and accepted the offer on the condition it looked subtle and muted. 
Sukuna padded toward you, hardly bothering to announce himself or ask to join you (ugh, how annoying) before plopping himself onto the futon beside you, sighing as he laid down. 
“I see you finished early,” you commented, jumping the littlest bit when large hands caught your flickering tails. He didn't hurt you, no; he was simply an overgrown toddler with a penchant for examining whatever wiggled before him. 
“That woman kissed you,” Sukuna answered, unhelpful. “Ruined it.” 
“Ah. Well. I didn't expect it either.” You cleared your throat, feeling an unexpected bubble of embarrassment rise in your chest. “I have…I've never been given a kiss before. Not from what I can recall, at the very least.” 
“The hell are you talking about?” Sukuna grouched. “You planted one on me in the gardens.” 
“Giving is not receiving,” you corrected, flicking your tail so as to hit his face. “I've never given a kiss on another's lips, regardless. Though I find myself wondering why I–” 
You yowled when he yanked your tail like he meant to rip the thing off, and you whirled on him, eyes drawn into slits and chunky fangs bared as you dug your nails into his wrist in an effort to make him let go.
Yet the king looked unfazed. He sat up and  tugged you closer by your tail, yank after yank, ripping an impressive collection of vexed noises from you until his broad hand caught you by the throat. You clawed at his wrist and forearm, scrambling to find purchase, idly wondering if he'd finally had enough of you and sought to put you down after dirtying one of his concubines–
But he kissed you instead. His lips were warm and dry, not quite soft yet not unwelcoming. Sukuna knew what he was doing, too; his tongue licked at your bottom lip before pushing inside to finally taste you and taint you from within just a little bit. 
Your grip on him laxed the slightest bit, and you even eased into his hold as he, too, refused to harm you further. If you weren't aware of his malevolent spirit, you might've thought him gentle in that long, simple moment–a special brand of “gentle” that was wholly Sukuna's. Kind, but jagged around the edges. 
He started pulling back, though, and you followed after his touch like a bewitched maiden chasing after the lips of a lover. You nipped at the air like that'd do something for you, but soon settled on leaning into the hand holding you still, even if your throat scratched and ached because of it. 
You found Sukuna's calm stare watching you when you opened your eyes a crack. For once, you thought he looked content; the cruel, mocking lines of his face had smoothed and relaxed, and that annoying, cocky smirk he'd been born sporting had been replaced with a placid, normal lilt. Even the inferno blazing in crimson depths eased into pools of yawning embers–warm and spirited, yet contained. 
The sight relaxed you despite the confusion it brought to your rationale. 
“That,” Sukuna said, so odd and quiet, but powerful and judicial. “Is your first.” His thumb stroked against the side of your neck, pausing to feel the pitter patter of your heart thrumming under his mercy. “It'd serve you to remember that.” 
You nodded shallowly. “Of course.” 
Pleased, he let go of your quite breakable neck and moved like he was about to get up. You grabbed at his hand and pressed his palm to the side of your face like he was cupping your cheek. Your insistence on touching gave the beast pause, but he settled again, content to let you keep him hostage for as long as you wanted.
And you indulged in the simple favour. You nuzzled into his palm with a very fox-like chitter as a bassy, quiet trill of a purr lazily rolled through your chest, eventually reaching Sukuna himself. It somehow had him feeling content. Relaxed. Like he was basking in the warmth of the sun. 
“I request another,” you chirped, and Sukuna quirked a brow. 
“Another?” 
“Kiss.” 
Sukuna twitched a smirk. “It'll cost ya.” 
“Oh?” 
“Give me another blessing.”
And you agreed.
701 notes · View notes
coralinnii · 5 months
Note
Can I ask for Vil, Took or Malleus (any of them, or multiple depending on how cool you are with it) when they find their s/O gives them cute handmade gifts? Baked treats, books, paintings and such. I completely understand if you can't get to this, but if you decide to take this up, It'll be really really cool! Thanks and have a great day!
‎‧₊˚✧Made with Love✧˚₊‧
↳ Reader S/O who made him handmade gifts
feat: Vil ❋ Rook ❋ Malleus genre: fluff note: no pronouns used with the reader, established relationships, nicknames were used for readers (spudling, mon tresor, dear, child of man), probably bad grammar and usage of French because of Rook,
To anyone who were wondering for my sudden MIA status…I got sick, like hella sick. I’m not the greatest at taking care of myself and apparently my body decided to teach me a lesson for that by leaving me down for the count for 2 weeks then giving me migraines if I spend even 20 minutes in front of a screen for another week. To be fair, I could have recovered quicker if I actually…rested and took care of myself but hey, lessons were learned.
I literally started this a month ago but now I need to relearn the characters because my brain can’t remember anything, so I’m sorry if it isn’t the greatest T_T
2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023
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To say he was suspicious was an understatement. Vil was a man of routine and he could tell when something was amiss as the days went by. Little differences were of no cause of concern, but when his little spudling is just acting too skittish, the blond just couldn’t let it go.
At first, Vil was content with scolding you for the little bad habits you started. He caught you too many times hunching your neck and back, and the eyebags forming under your eyes were too concerning to him to ignore.
He had to physically hold in his gasp however, when you refused to come over to his dorm for a skincare date. He tried to be understanding when you claimed you had too much homework to come over, but he could do without Rook having to point out that he was sulking.
Yes Rook, Vil is very aware he could get early wrinkles.
Frustration turned to concern as Vil was quick to pick up that you were hiding something from him. Occasionally, he could see you quickly hiding something from his sight before smiling.
Insecurity soon struck him as alarming thoughts swirled about his mind. Was he the problem? Or is there a problem but he was too undependable to you to confide in?
Not one to beat around the bush, he approached you.
You were surprised that your lover requested to see you so suddenly. But, you thought the handsome blond sounded uncharacteristically solemn so you agreed, which led to you sitting in the lounge of your dorm/home.
Maybe you misread the tone of his voice, because the man before you certainly didn’t seem solemn. Sitting next to you on the sofa, Vil watched you silently with his arms crossed and a leg over another.
“So, Vil…how was your da-”
“I know you’re hiding something from me, spudling.”
From your flinching and awkward avoidance to meet his eyes, Vil’s suspicions were correct. Upon closer inspection, Vil spotted small cuts littered about the skin of your fingers. His lilac eyes softened somewhat, but he kept his voice stern.
“I admire you for working so hard for yourself,” Vil made it clear to you as his eyes gazed towards the small cuts on your fingers, “But, I hope I’m not someone so incompetent that you can’t rely on me, especially when you’re needlessly hurting yourself so.”
In a smooth motion, Vil raised his manicured hand towards your face, gently grazing your cheek to keep your attention to him. “So spudling, no more secrets…what has gotten you so busy and reckless?”
The gig is up, you supposed. Sighing, you asked for your blond beloved to wait as you quickly rushed to your room. Upon your return, there was something in your hands to which you nervously handed over to your upperclassman.
It was a soft ribbon with a charm attached to its end. The deep purple ribbon was embroidered with what seemed to be golden leaves attached to vines twisting and curling across the length of the ribbon. The charm was of a crown, a cheap trinket that was clearly inspired by the Fairest Queen.
“I know how hard you’ve been working for classes so I made you a ribbon bookmark, something you could use while you study or something.” you explained, a little embarrassed. “But I haven’t been getting the pattern right, so I couldn’t give you until I got it perfect.”
Vil has been gifting you so much, from customized skincare products of his creation to matching outfits that enhanced your beautiful form. But it’s not just fancy clothes and luxurious products. Vil worries for you, takes care of you, and helps you to see the potential in yourself and to strive for it.
He gave you so much, so you wanted to give him something in return. Something thoughtful, something that shows how much you cherish Vil. More than for his looks, more than for his fame.
“This didn’t turn out as well as I wanted, but I’m working hard so I can make a new one and get the embroidery just right,” you assured him as you reached for the bookmark. “So, please be patient with me.”
But, Vil kept your gift out of your reach. He examined your handiwork with such focus, taking note of the effort in every stitch. It was by no means the level of professional, but he could see how you thought about him. From the color of the ribbon and thread to resemble his honorable dorm, to the consideration of his dedication to his studies rather than his looks. Your gift told him that you saw not Vil Schoenheit the actor, but Vil your hardworking boyfriend.
Seeing your nervous expression, Vil chuckled as he finally spoke, the cute bookmark firmly in his grasp. “If this is for me, I believe It’s for me to decide if it’s acceptable.”
“I-I guess?”
“Good, because I’ve decided to keep this.” Closing the gap, Vil placed a kiss upon your face, teasingly close to your lips. With a confident smile, Vil took pleasure with your burning cheeks.
“Thank you for the gift, my cute spudling.”
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If it wasn’t already clear to everyone, Rook’s primary love language are words of affirmation. You could sneeze and suddenly he has written a sonnet about how beautiful the cringling of your face was.
I’m only slightly exaggerating.
Rook is by no means afraid to show his admiration for anyone, least of all his beloved. All of his words and actions are all done without an expectation of getting something in return.
But lately, you have become a bit of an enigma to him. You would spend hours upon hours with him, smiling and capturing pictures of the two of you. Other times, you would swiftly leave back to your dorm, excusing it as needing to study but you would vehemently decline his offer to help you.
Don’t get him wrong, watching your concentrated gaze is gorgeous, the way your heartbeat steadies and letting out soft but longer exhales as though you’re making decisions secretly in your mind. Rook couldn’t help but wonder, what is it that captures your attention that has you gazing off away from him?
“Rook, can I visit you today?”
Oh my, it has been a while since you last requested such a thing. Partially because you both knew his Housewarden would have a fit if he wasn’t aware. But eventually, Vil gave you special permission, mostly because Rook would have found a way to either sneak you into his room or he might sneak in the middle of night to see you. Vil knew Rook would never have gotten caught but he’d rather let you stay than have the migraine of a vice-housewarden breaking curfew and ruining his beauty sleep.
“Oui, mon trésor. I would request approval from my Housewarden immediately.” Rook could never deny you of anything, especially if he means you could have more time to admire you in the comfort of his room.
When night fell and the two of you were alone, sitting on the hunter’s bed. You were nervously wringing the handles of the bag in your hand. Doubts filled your head as you wondered if the gift was even slightly capable of living up to your boyfriend’s expectations, regardless of how silly that sounded.
You knew that whatever you would give him, Rook would love and appreciate it with full sincerity. But, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous. The gift should be considerate, you thought. Something that shows the love you had for the eccentric blond and his odd… let’s say interests.
You looked to said odd man, who’s piercing green eyes caught your gaze. Rook noticed your nervousness and the mysterious bag but said nothing. Instead, he kindly waited for you as you calmed yourself, soothing you with gentle touches to your knee. The huntsman can be a lot to some, but he’s also patient and so supportive.
Finding your strength, you presented your gift to Rook. Curiously, Rook took what seemed to be a journal from your hands. It was only when he opened the book to see its content was he surprised.
Him. He saw him in a multitude of photographs that decorated the pages of the journal, lined with cute frames and drawings. Some photos were of moments he remembered, such as days where you visited him during his club, cute dates around the town, or simply just moments of serenity between the two of you.
Rook felt his cheeks flush as his eyes caught the little captions written near the photographs, dates and words written in your handwriting.
“My handsome mad scientist” “His dashing profile is so cool” “His warm arms around me ♡”
“I realized the last time I came to your room that you only had photos of other people” you had glimpses of the wall of photos that consist of people he admired the most, you included. “So, I wanted to give you a photo album of what I find beautiful…you.”
Your boyfriend scared you as the young blond suddenly stood up from the bed, eyes sparkling with excitement as he scanned through the pages filled with memories. “Mon tresor, this is absolutely exquisite! To think my beloved has been watching me with such an unwavering, loving gaze fuels a pleasurable delight within me. Oh, très bien!”
But Rook worriedly commented on something notable. “But, there are still pages left unfilled. Were our moments too few and rare to fill the album?”
“It wasn’t that.” you rubbed your hands as you felt the nerves return. “I was hoping that we could fill the last few pages together…like a couple.”
It was then the hunter kneeled before you, his hands reaching out to grasp yours as he looked into your eyes with a special loving gaze only shown to you. You couldn’t tell if you were captured in his devoted gaze or if it was Rook that felt compelled to hold you, to comply with each and every one of your wishes.
“You speak as though I would dare to deny my precious beloved. I’d be honoured to make more memories with you, now and far however long you will have me.”
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With constant surveillance from his wards *coughSebekcough*, Malleus’ moments with you were rare but still meaningful. Some nights, Malleus would wander near your dorm, especially when he noticed the lights of your room, signifying you’re there and awake. And like always, you would open your doors for him with a sweet laugh and inviting smile.
But lately, Malleus has seen that your bedroom lights would be dimmed, and that you would take notice of his presence slower than usual. Once or twice would be of no concern to him. But, as it slowly became a habit, he began to worry.
He spoke of his concerns with Lilia, perhaps in the older fae’s experience he came across a similar predicament amongst humans.
Only for the veteran fae to be of no help, instead chuckling in amusement before giving his young dragon a cryptic comment “You will understand soon enough. My, how you are in for a treat~”
Malleus chose not to question further, nor did he question the odd coincidence that you asked him to visit you that very night.
“I don’t suppose there is a hidden agenda to your invitation, dear?” As Malleus made himself comfortable in your guest room, he noticed some changes since his last visit.
Firstly, the furniture were arranged to be more spaced out, although the TV was still quite close. Then, there were almost an absurdly large amount of pillows and blankets, to the point that some have started to pooled onto the floor.
“Hmm, you sound as though I’m being suspicious” you laughed good-naturedly, “But I do have a surprise for tonight.”
Coming from the kitchen, you pulled out a stacked fairly large, cold container. With Malleus’ keen senses, he could pick up a very subtle sweet scent mixed with a chilly sensation, and a familiar delight came to mind.
“Ice-cream?”
You nodded. “Made by yours truly. I asked Lilia if there was a particular flavour you like, but he said you weren’t really picky.”
Unceremoniously, you sat down next to the tall fae before handing him an ice-cream container. “I was trying out different recipes and ideas all week, tweaking it along the way.”
The results of your work appear to be a multitude of flavours with varying degrees of sweetness. From classics such as chocolate and vanilla to more subtle sweet flavours such as coffee and pistachio. Some were swirls of combinations with fruits or nuts, and some were flavours unique to his hometown, which he imagined were hard to procure.
“I may not be able to shower you in riches, or protect you like your knights…” you gave an embarrassed smile and gaze at your silent companion. “But I could at least make you something sweet, just so you could smile even a little.”
Behind your nonchalant smile, you do feel anxiety swirling as you worry your efforts pale in comparison to the luxuries your powerful boyfriend owns. Malleus is a fae of the highest standing and thus, his actions have more impact than the average man or fae.
But…he was your amazing boyfriend nonetheless, who smiled softly back at you.
“Thank you, child of man. Knowing the effort my beloved has done for me alone, I shall cherish this feeling for centuries to come.”
Your cheeks burned slightly over the sincerity, so you quickly diverted the conversation. “W-Well, just giving someone ice-cream would be too boring, so I thought we could spend the night watching bad rom-com movies while we eat. Call it a human custom of sorts.”
“Is it imperative that the movies must be bad?”
You shrugged “Not really, but it usually is.”
Setting the movie up, you returned to the makeshift nest of comfy blankets and pillows with Malleus sitting by you. The confused fae watched as you handed him a tub of handmade ice-cream and a spoon before picking a container for yourself, a strange feeling of intimacy unfamiliar to him…but not an unpleasant one.
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triptuckers · 5 months
Text
bonfire - percy jackson
Request: yes! "Hey I was just wondering if you could make a Percy Jackson x gn reader where the reader had a crush on Percy for a while and was jealous of annabeth only to find out Percy felt the same" Pairing:  percy jackson x gn!reader Summary:  you've got a crush on percy, but it looks as if he only has eyes for annabeth. you try to keep your distance, but it's hard and percy notices you're absent Warnings:  jealousy, angst Word count:  1.5K A/N: happy new year!! sadly I went into the year with my tiktok account getting banned because they think I'm 13?? all I do is post silly little pjo videos but apparently its not okay so now I have to start over :( thanks for your request, enjoy!
you wonder if your life would be different if you were more like annabeth.
you're looking at her right now, as she's talking with her team. you know you can't win capture the flag from her. she's too smart. always analysing, always calculating everything that can go wrong and then preventing it.
percy is also looking at annabeth.
he's on her team, after all.
you're trying to listen as clarisse, your team captain, explains her new plan to your team. but you're only hearing half of what she's saying. you're far too focused on percy as he smiles at annabeth while she's talking to him.
you can tell he likes her. and it's not like you hadn't tried to let it go.
you had tried to push your feelings away, to ignore them, nothing worked. when you saw percy chatting with annabeth, you felt a little jealous.
soon your crush on percy and with it, your jealousy of annabeth, started to grow. so you decided if nothing worked, you'd distance yourself from percy.
it hurt, especially since percy was happy to spend his time with annabeth instead of you. at first, he would still invite you to spend time with him. but after you kept declining his offers, he eventually stopped asking you.
you tried not to show anyone how upset you were. maybe it would get easier with time. it's clear to you percy prefers annabeth over you.
on top of it all, you lose capture the flag yet again. you're forced to sit on the sidelines with your team, listening to clarisse tell you everything that went wrong. in the distance, you can see percy and annabeth celebrating their win with the rest of the team.
you tell yourself it's just a game and that you don't care their team won. maybe if you tell yourself it enough times, you might believe it.
when you're walking back to the cabins to put away your armor and weapons, you hear someone call your name behind you.
you turn around and see percy jogging to catch up with you.
you hate the way your heart still skips a beat when you see his eyes and quick smile.
'good game!' he says, stopping in front of you.
'hi percy.' you say.
'hi.' he says with a smile. gods, he's going to be the death of you one day.
'congrats on winning. again.'
'thanks! annabeth had this amazing plan.'
'athena kids, huh?' you mumble, trying not to show your disappointment at how it only took a couple of seconds for percy to bring up annabeth in the conversation.
'you busy tonight?' he says.
you look up at him. surely he wouldn't?
'not really. why?' you say.
'there's a bonfire tonight. want to come?' says percy.
'yeah, that sounds good.' you say. you could never say no to him.
sitting at the bonfire, you hadn't done that in a while. ever since you decided to try and distance yourself from percy, you missed out on things you knew he would be present at.
'great! it was annabeth's idea to host one, see you tonight!' says percy, waving at you and taking off again, headed towards his own cabin.
you just stand there. of course it was annabeth's plan, of course she'd be there as well.
as you walk to your cabin, you're not sure you can stand watching them together all night after watching them win capture the flag. but you'd told percy you'd come. and you hate to let him down.
so when the sun is setting, you make your way to the bonfire. while you're walking, you can't stop thinking about how cold it is. you should have brought a jacket. but you're afraid that if you go back to your cabin, you won't go to the bonfire anymore. and then percy would be upset.
at the bonfire, there's almost no kids from your team. there are a few of your siblings, but not a lot.
the kids from the opposite team are dancing, laughing and celebrating.
is this really where you want to be tonight?
you spot percy in the distance, talking with a few apollo kids. without meaning to, your eyes also search for annabeth. she's sitting with her siblings. at least they're not together again.
you'd stay for an hour. just to show your face, then you'd go back to your cabin. that's acceptable, right?
you get yourself a drink and sit down near the edge of the party, where most of the kids are just talking with each other and not really doing a lot.
as you think back to capture the flag earlier today, you try to figure out how annabeth's team could always beat yours. you know athena kids are smart, but ares kids also know a lot about battle strategies. maybe you could sit down with clarisse some day and see if you can help her with a new plan.
you're lost in thoughts, when you hear a familiar laugh in the distance. you look over and see annabeth has left her siblings and is now sitting next to percy.
you sigh softly, it was never going to be any different, was it?
for a while, you watch the other kids, listening to their songs. you had to give it to the apollo cabin, they know how to get a party started. when you look back at percy and annabeth, percy is gone.
before you can look around where he is, someone sits down next to you.
'having fun?'
you turn and are met with percy's bright eyes. you put on a smile, hoping it looks sincere.
'yeah. thanks for inviting me.' you say.
percy tilts his head a little and gives you a confusing look.
'you say you're having fun and yet since you got here you've been sitting here with a drink you haven't touched, freezing and shivering.' says percy.
right. you forgot your jacket.
'sorry. I was thinking about capture the flag.' you say.
'ah yes, about our fantastic victory.' says percy, smiling and bumping your shoulder. 'you should come up with a new plan some day. maybe talk to clarisse about it?'
'I will.' you say.
'then again, it is hard to beat annabeth's plans. sometimes I don't even know her entire plan until the game is already over.' says percy.
really? how does he manage to bring up annabeth every single time he's talking to you?
'well, don't let me keep you.' you say. 'thanks for checking in, but you don't have to take pity on me for losing. you can go back to annabeth now.'
percy frowns. 'what are you talking about?' he says.
'well, clearly you like her.' you say.
percy laughs at your words. you feel the color drain from your face. tears start to form in your eyes.
'alright, I'm leaving.' you say, getting up.
percy abruptly stops laughing. 'wait no, please don't go.' he says, pulling you back down.
'sorry, I shouldn't have laughed at that. it's just, yeah, I like annabeth. but not like that, we're just friends. I like you, okay? I thought you knew.' says percy.
your lips part in surprise. did you hear that right?
'you like me?' you say. 'like... you like like me?'
percy smiles. gods he really is beautiful. 'yeah, I like like you, alright.' he says. 'which reminds me, why have you been avoiding me lately?'
you look down, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 'I thought if I wouldn't see you, my feelings for you would go away.'
'but they didn't.'
'no, they didn't. my eyes were still finding you in ever room. even tonight, I didn't really want to come. but I couldn't say no to you.'
'is that also why you didn't bring a jacket? so you'd have an excuse to go back soon?'
you look up and shake your head. 'no, I did actually forget my jacket.' you say.
percy takes off his sweater and hands it to you. 'here.' he says. 'wouldn't want you to freeze.'
'thank you.' you say, taking it and putting it on. it's bigger than your own sweaters and smells like him.
'want to get out of here?' says percy. 'we can go to the lake. or my cabin, no one's there. it'll just be the two of us.'
'do you have a heater in your cabin?' you say.
'no.' says percy, getting up and holding out his hand to you. 'but consider me your personal heater from now on. always available for cuddles.'
you smile, taking his hand. 'I like that.' you say.
as you and percy walk off, annabeth is still sitting by the campfire. she's smiling to herself. she knew about percy's crush on you. he'd been asking her all sorts of advice. and it looks like he finally told you.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
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rboooks · 1 year
Text
Alfred's Boy: Part 2
Bruce felt his blood pressure rise as Damian shoved another pair of swimming trucks into his cart. His youngest insisted that he needed something flattering, as his previous outfit was "functional but not attractive to the youth of today."
Damian had never cared that he wasn't up to the trends, but that was before Danny moved into the manor. Now he had to wait hours for Damian to find a satisfying outfit, knowing darn well its only because Danny mentioned he was interested in taking a dip in the inner pool.
The boy, technically being staff, felt it was essential to ask permission before taking a swim. Bruce had spent years telling Alfred he had free range over the manor, only to always have the man ask before doing anything. He hopes Danny won't develop the same habit.
He wanted the young man to feel at home with them.
His younger children- who honest to God forgot they even had a pool- had all scrambled to go swimming with Danny. Tim had practically thrown himself over the table to change from his WE suit into his swimming wear, Duke use his grappling hook to zoom up the stairs and Steph begged Cass to lend her a bikini.
Damian remained seated, despairing that his old swimming shorts had been bought by Dick the year previous. Dick had gotten him green shorts with little cats and dogs. Damian- who refused to even go near public pools- wore them to the family pool with no desire to purchase new ones since he saw no point in it.
And now he was paying the price for keeping childish wear. Personally, Bruce thought they were adorable and perfect for his fourteen-year-old son, but being two years younger than Danny gave him a terrible disadvantage, and Damian could not afford falling futher behind.
He just sat there, staring longingly at the retreating back of Alfred's assistant after telling him he had nothing to wear. Danny had told them he could join the rest another time before scurrying away to finish his cleaning of the right wing.
What else could Bruce do besides offering to take him to the nearest outlet mall and get him something nicer?
"Damian are you almost-"
"I am ready, father. Make haste to purchase our wears. Daniel must be finishing his duties, and I wish to get back." His son announced, yanking the cart out of Bruce's hand and practically running to the cashiers.
Bruce sighed.
It's not that he minded his son's crush on a boy or that it was Danny. It just felt like he shouldn't be encouraging his children to try and romance someone going through a lot.
Alfred had forbidden anyone from looking into Danny's background, and he had respected the request. There was a lot Bruce and Batman were willing to do but defying a direct order from Alfred was not one of them.
(Honesty, if Alfred ever turned evil, Bruce's contingency plan for him was simple: Die.)
Danny took his assistant butler job very seriously. Often wearing a neat and pressed suit, finishing his work in record time, well mannered and very intelligent but kept a distance from the family. Alfred also had a small wall of professionalism but he would crack a joke and be in their presence like a grandfather.
Danny only spoke when spoken to, tried to refrain from being notice and basically kept the reminder that while he liked them all he was always going to be a employee first and foremost.
Maybe it was due to his parents? Danny probably couldn't relax until he felt safe once more. Not for the first time, Bruce wondered what type of monsters the Fentons had to be to make a boy capable of discovering the Batcave without so much of a blink, flatter.
"Father!" Damian called impatiently, tapping his foot before the nervous-looking teen who what been attempting to ring him up.
The Wayne's made everyone nervous.
"Yes. Yes. Here put It on my card-" Damian snatched it out of his hand before Bruce even took it out completely from his wallet.
Suddenly his phone rings. Seeing that Damian could handle punching in the Pin, he accepted the call, not bothering to check the screen.
All his children have personalized ringtones, so only one person would cause Gun and Ships from the Hamilton musical to blare from his phone.
"Jason-"
"Bruce!" Jason yells in a wheezing voice "Tim almost drowned!"
What.
"Is he alright!?"
"He's fine!" Jason assures, voice breaking to manic cackling. "He's just really embarrassed. He forgot about the bruise on his back, so when he tried to do cannonballs with Danny, he cramped up. Danny had to help him out of the pool and then lectured him about jumping in the deep end because of peer pressure. He thinks Tim can't swim, Bruce!"
Bruce felt a headache building behind his eyes. "Jason-"
"Wait, wait, there's more! Do you know how Steph never wears bikinis because she is uncomfortable? Danny clocked that as soon as she walked in and offered her the old t-shirt he was wearing. Took it off right then and there, and do you know what Steph did!? She walked into a wall! A wall Bruce!"
"Jason-"
"Duke hasn't stopped staring at Danny. I think his brain is in a permanent blue screen. I'm actually thinking he's-"
"Jason!" Bruce cut in which finally seemed to get his second oldest attention. Don't get him wrong, he was thrilled that Jason was spending so much time around the manor but the constant updates on his children tripping over themselves for Danny was not well for his heart. "I think you need to make sure your siblings give Danny some space. The poor chum might not be comfortable-"
"I'm not helping you stop Danny from finding true love, old man"
Bruce rolled his eyes as his son hung up. He can't wait for school to start up again. Danny will be homeschooled by his own request and Alfred's agreement but at least most of his kids will not be around him as often.
His phone started playing Sk8er Boy and he considered not answering. He really did but honestly his son probably needed him.
With a sigh he presses the accept call button "Tim-"
"He thinks I can't swim Bruce! He banned me from the pool!" Tim sobs and Bruce sees Damian perk up, happy Danny had put distance between one of his suitors ans himself.
Was it too late to ask Alfred if he was sure his contact Clockwork had no where else to foster Danny?
Being Batman on the night all his rouges broke out was easier then this.
( Part 1) (part 3)
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luvtak · 1 year
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Dating Stray Kids
❀ seriously criminal amounts of fluff. mostly gender neutral and basically unedited :/
❀ a/n this took years cause theres so many of them but i hope it doesn’t flop 💖💖 love you guys!!!
❀ w/c 2419
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Chan: You were never even dating this man, you went from friends to married in like three days—one day you were single and then you were a mother to seven boys. So many days sitting in his studio listening to what he’s conjured up. Never leaves in the morning without giving you a kiss. Always looking out for you, walks on the busy side of the street and puts his hand up to shield your head when you get in the car. Listens so attentively whenever you’re speaking to him. Wraps you up in his clothes and the warmest blankets when you say you’re cold. When he can sleep, he lays directly on top of you. Is always asking how you are and genuinely wants to know all your daily ailments. Slightly teases you then hugs you so tight if he sees it annoyed you. Will kiss you anywhere and everywhere, then gets shy when he realizes you’re not alone. Is interested in all your interests. Hands are never kept to himself; he is all over you 100% of the time, always smiling when you’re around. Brings home little trinkets from tour that made him think of you. Writes you songs, unlike Jisung they are really sweet and poetic. Calls you all sorts of little names and giggles when you smile about it. Cuddles with you all night even if he can’t fall asleep. Leaves blankets and snacks in his studio for when you come visit. Texts you to watch channies room then gets shy when you actually do. Miraculously pulls out an extra sweater for you and pretends like he doesn’t always carry one around for you. Always has an arm around you or a hand in your pocket. Cradles you like a baby when you’re sad. He just loves you sm and takes care of you like your another one of his little ducks.
Minho: So lovely, but also your nemesis—kisses you then tells you your hair looks silly, or your outfit doesn’t match. Packs you lunches and reminds you to bring a coat. Is always telling you to text him when you get home, he doesn’t want to be controlling but he gets so worried. Says I love you first then acts all cocky when you say it back. I feel like he does things for you under the guise of you doing it wrong, when the truth is he just likes doing things for you. Never shows physical affection in front of other people but speaks to you in the sweetest tone, it’s almost more intimate. Washes your face for you and helps put you into pajamas when you’re too sleepy to do it. When you can’t sleep, he’ll lay next to you and tell you funny stories until you pass out. Kisses you all over your face when you’re sad. Fiddles with all your jewelry, he’s so gentle with it you don’t notice until you realize a ring is missing and see it on his pinkie. Thinks you’re so cute, sometimes he can’t help but talk to you like you’re one of his cats. Hugs you so so so tight and presses soft kisses in your hair. Tells you he misses you then threatens you to not tell anyone what he said. Takes you on special dates for no reason other than to make you smile. Calls you a certain pet name so often sometimes the boys forget its not your name. He not so secretively treasures you and makes sure you know when his teasing goes a little too far—you’re just so precious to him it’s hard for him to express in words.
Changbin: Super domestic and accepting. You could seriously tell him anything and he’d be like “okay, that’s great, honey!” Takes you to the gym with him and kisses you after every set. Loves sitting and doing nothing with you. Genuinely thinks you’re the most wonderful thing he has ever encountered. Constantly trying to impress you: flexing when he knows you’re looking, telling his best jokes when you’re around, bringing home expensive dinners. Pulls you into his arms to dance while you cook for him. Your biggest hype man and will never hear you say anything negative about yourself. Is always trying to pick you up, you could be dating for five years, and he'd still be giving out pick up lines. Whenever you hurt yourself, he’s going to kiss it better, no matter how dramatic it is—you have a splinter, here’s a kiss! You’re in the hospital, another kiss! Pretends to like things just because you do. Literally never says no to you. He talks about you so much; all the boys know everything about you before they even meet you. Every time he sees you, he’s going to lift you up and spin you around like you’re in some cheesy movie just so you’ll laugh. Always hugging you. #1 advocate for daily naps just so you can cuddle. Talks about your future like its already set in stone, like you’re getting married no matter what. Is so proud of you and the fact you’re together—Only has good things to say. Gifts you so many stuffed animals to cuddle with when he’s away. Calls you the most nauseatingly sweet pet names and holds you like your porcelain. You’re literally his little baby and he’s going to love and care for you if it’s the last thing he does.
Hyunjin: The most intimate and earnest boyfriend. Even if you’re the two most different people he convinces you you’re soulmates, you’re split aparts fr. Constantly playing with your hair. Tells everyone he doesn’t like skinship then wraps himself around you. Says something really sweet then acts all shy when three months later you’re watching a drama and the romantic lead says the same line. Uses your shower stuff and perfume so he can smell like you. Kisses every mole and stretch mark he can see. Whenever he sees something pretty he tells you it reminds him of you before roasting you within an inch of your life. Your house slowly becomes his house because suddenly everything he’s ever bought ends up there. CEO of romantic gestures—sends you flowers every chance he gets, writes love letters, and paints pictures. Wears a locket with your picture in it. Has a polaroid of you in his phone case. Sends you stupid tiktok’s and all he says is “it’s you.” So many bookstore and art museum dates. Late nights filled with dramas and skincare—after every step he gets a kiss! Thinks everything you say is funny. Loves you so much sometimes all he can do is cry because you’ll never know. Loves seeing you get along with the boys but as soon as one gets a little too close, he’s shooting them the biggest side eye. Always has snacks on hand for you—biggest fear is of hangry you. So tender and empathetic that when you get upset, he also starts getting emotional. Sometimes when you’re out together he gets really quiet and when you turn to see what’s wrong, he is just staring at you before he breaks out in a huge smile. Life with him is full of giggles. You’re his favorite person in the whole world and he’s yours!
Jisung: So deeply infatuated with you he couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. Every time he looks at you, he gets all moony eyed. Is always touching you in some way—hand on your thigh while you’re eating, arm around your waist while you walk together. Has lists of movies you need to watch together in his notes app. You’re a very cozy couple, almost always in pajamas and watching a Miyazaki movie. Definitely writes you songs, but not sweet ones they’re the worst improvised lines about how much he loves you. For all his goofy antics, as soon as you’re alone he’s becomes so quietly domestic—bringing home dinners and doing facemasks. Begs you to watch scary movies with him so he can have an excuse to baby you after. Talks about you nonstop, tells the boys jokes you told him just so he can say “isn’t my s/o so funny?’ Cuddle monster—needs them or he’ll start being mean to all the boys. If you’re someone who wears heels, he’d def be the kind of boyfriend to walk barefoot in his socks so you could wear his sneakers. Pulls at your cheeks and coos like you’re a baby. Takes so many photos of you from awful angles and won’t listen when you tell him you look terrible. So many forehead kisses. Has never called you your name since you got together, it’s always baby, and if you even dare to call him Jisung he’s going to have a breakdown trying to figure out what he did. Hands are permanently linked. Never leaves a conversation without an “I love you.” He thinks the world of you, so fond of everything you are and makes sure you never forget it<3
Felix: So so so so precious. The perfect boy, so sweet and tender you could never second guess his feelings. Loves so hard and so deep that everyone who looks at the two you knows just how he feels. He’s so open with all his feelings, you almost never fight. The kind of boy who brushes your hair and rubs lotion onto your legs. Compliments you every day, and not just saying you’re pretty, but the most earth-shattering no other compliment could ever measure up compliment. Is so interested in you, tries to learn everything he can. Since you met this boy, you have not tied your own shoes once, does it for you every time. Matching everything, wants everyone to know you’re together, as if anyone couldn’t pick it up from the way he’s draped all over you. Favorite thing on earth is when you sit with him doing nothing, he could be doing something he’s done a million times, but as soon as you’re around its better. Presses the softest kisses all around your face—nose, eyes, then lips, every morning to wake you up. Sings with you so loud in the car to all your favorite songs.  #1 PDA advocate—does not care who’s around he will be affectionate. Always fiddling with your clothes. Makes you sweet treats and tells you they’re made with love. Could listen to you forever, sometimes he’ll bring up something he knows you love just so he can hear you toddling on. Buys you too many presents but will never accept you spending money on him. Never lets you walk home alone or open the door for yourself—if he can do it for you he’s doing it. Loves you so deeply you can feel it in every word.
Seungmin: Such a bully boyfriend. Never lets you live—if he can find a joke in it, he’s saying it, but at the same time never lets you second guess how he feels. While he won’t be lovey dovey all the time, but you can feel his affection in how he takes care of you—If you ask him to do something he’s going to complain, but that doesn’t mean he’s not doing it. Makes bad jokes so he can kiss the disappointment of your face. Orders your favorite for dinner and acts like its no big deal. Pretends not to but relishes in your affection. Will stop whatever he’s doing as soon as you say his name a little too seriously. Super shy with PDA but is constantly holding your hand. Is always talking about you, telling the other Kids stories about you until they have to tell him to shut up. Your biggest fan: puts up your graduation picture and top graded essay up on the fridge and is always bragging about you to others. Sings you to sleep when you’re tossing and turning. Teases you all the time but as soon as someone else does they better run for cover. Remembers every little detail about your life, even things that you’ve forgotten. Is secretly very sentimental and has all sorts of keepsakes about you and your relationship. Is not going to be all over you in public, but as soon as you’re alone he’s in your arms and telling you how much he cares about you. If you’re ever sad he’s going to be cracking all sorts of jokes just to you see you smile before he asks you what happened. He’s so silly but so so sweet, you never go a day without laughing.
Jeongin: The sweetest and cutest! Obviously super smiley, but with you his smile is somehow even bigger. Loves to match with you and help pick out your outfits. I do think if his s/o was someone who got their nails done that he’d love to pick out the design. Always packs snacks for you in his practice bag and an extra hoodie in case you get cold. While he may not be the most openly affectionate, he quite literally brings you everywhere, you’re like his third arm. Peppers sweet little kissies all over your knuckles when you’re not paying attention to him. Laughs at all your jokes even if they’re not funny. Thinks you’re the cutest!! Sends all sorts of funny pictures when he’s away so you don’t miss him too much. Constantly teases you just so he can see you roll your eyes at him. Pulls you into every photobooth he sees. Buys a bottle of your perfume to bring with him on tour. Fusses over you all the time—fixing your clothes and making sure you’re warm enough. Acts all tough in front of his hyungs but as soon as you’re alone he’s begging for cuddles. Makes playlists of all your favorite songs to play when you’re in the car. I think he’ d be too shy to call you pet names but he always says your name so soft and sweet its like he’s calling you one. Sings every love song like they’re for you. If your hair is long enough to put up in a pony tail he will tug on it, not too hard or anything, but just enough for it to be annoying. Both his wallpaper and lock screen are of you all cuddled up together. Very in love with you and even if he doesn’t express it in words everyone around you knows.
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© luvtak
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honeydjarin · 6 months
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MOUSE IN THE KITCHEN
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OPLA SANJI X SHORT!READER
Luffy isn’t the only one with a penchant for sneaking into the kitchen.
request: Hiii, if you want to I'd like to request a Sanji x short reader, where they try and help him out in the kitchen but can't reach anything. No pressure, just wondering
genre: fluff
word count: 2,000
a/n: normally I avoid any sort of specific physical features in my fics in order to make them as inclusive as possible, but as someone who must climb the shelves at the grocery store in order to reach anything, this request spoke to me. This one is a little silly and nothing but fluff. I hope you enjoy!
It’s late. The sun sank below the horizon long ago, leaving no trace of the adventures and games that took place during the daylight hours. Everyone else on the Going Merry is asleep. You really should be sleeping too, and you had been, not too long ago. 
You don’t know what it is that stirred you from your slumber. Perhaps some noise as the ship rocks on lazy waves, or a crew mate talking just a bit too loud in their sleep. It doesn’t matter, really. What does matter is the thoughts that worm their way into your mind the longer you lie awake. Thoughts of something light, something sweet, something to satiate a craving, your body convinced it’s time for breakfast despite your mind knowing dawn is hours away. It doesn’t take long for the hollow ache in your stomach to drive you from the comfort of your hammock and up towards the galley.
You know the kitchen on the ship well. You know which floorboards creak and which are safe to step on, where the chef hides traps for Luffy and how to circumvent them, where all of the ingredients to satiate your sweet tooth are hiding. 
Just thinking about the reason for your intimate knowledge of the ship’s kitchen is enough to send heat racing up your neck and settling beneath your cheeks. You press your fingers to the skin where your burning blood pools beneath the surface, taking a moment to relish in the sugar sweet feeling of a simple crush—a single name swirling through your brain is all it takes to leave you giggling quietly in the night.
Sanji, the newest member of the Straw Hat Crew. Sanji, the one who will never let another go hungry, not even a stranger. Sanji, the man with sun soaked hair and a honey dipped tongue. 
Sanji.
Sanji.
When the chef first joined the crew, you admired him. He was caring and steady, he knew what he believed in. With his handsome looks, quick wit, and open flirtations, it didn’t take long for that admiration to slip into something that felt sweetly like affection. You couldn’t help but want to spend more time with the cook, hoping to join him in the activities that bring him the most joy so that you might better understand him. It didn’t take long for you to become nearly as familiar with the galley as he is. 
You step into the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind you. You leave the lights off, not wanting to risk anyone else catching you in the galley (or getting the idea to grab a snack themselves). Instead, you stand in the dark, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Moonlight spills through the windows of the room, bright enough to see by, if you’re patient. 
It isn’t long before you’re able to move again, walking along a familiar path towards where Sanji stores all things sugary. 
There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’re doing something you shouldn’t. Like if you have to sneak around then you’re in a place you don’t belong. This is Sanji’s space, cataloged and organized to best suit his needs and ensure the crew has enough supplies to last between islands. It feels strange to be in the kitchen without the sound of his laughter or the smell of something delicious cooking on the stove top. 
Sanji’s presence is the piece that makes this space feel so comfortable. Without him, it feels too large, hollow. The galley has no life without its chef. You never really thought about how the kitchen would feel without him in it, and can’t help but hope it isn’t a feeling you become used to.   
You know if you wake up the cook he will make something for you. He would rub the sleep from his eyes, only half succeeding, before asking what he could make to help satiate your craving with a smile. You would feel guilty the whole time. 
It’s better to sneak through the galley for something you can find on your own than to disturb Sanji’s sleep. 
The first thing you search for is chocolate. You crawl onto the countertop, balancing on your knees as your feet dangle over the edge, before opening the cabinet in front of you. You eye the chocolate chips, the miniature sweets sitting at a level seemingly so easy for the rest of the crew to grab. You doubt any of the others would have to climb to reach them. 
Unfortunately, the only chocolate on the shelf is unsweetened. The lack of added sugar may be perfect for baking, but they won’t be sweet enough for your taste on their own. 
You begin to drop down from the countertop, fully intending to continue your search for the perfect treat. Your feet drop to the ground quietly, and you land in an almost crouch. Perfect, the ship is silent, as it should be. You straighten up, intending to continue your search, but your knees, still tight from your recent slumber, crack as you stand. The sound rings out in the otherwise silent kitchen like a gunshot. 
Maybe your creaking joints wouldn’t be a problem in a normal kitchen, but Sanji, who has ears attuned to any slight sound coming from the Galley (thanks to Luffy’s many attempts to raid the space at odd hours for food), surely heard the pop in his sleep. You may as well have knocked down all of the pots and shattered all of the dishes. 
It isn’t long before the sound of hurried footsteps and frustrated grumbling reaches your ears. The door to the galley slams open, lights flickering on just a moment after, leaving you squinting as your eyes adjust to the room once more. 
“Luffy, I swear if you touched any of the food I’ll—oh.” Sanji’s voice carries through the kitchen, his accent thicker than normal, sleep still clinging to his words. Your name rolls off his tongue, and you think it sounds sweeter in his sleep-addled voice than any chocolate could taste. 
“Sorry, Sanji. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just a little hungry,” you confess. 
“You could have woken me up,” he says, just like you knew he would. “I’d have been happy to cook something for you.” 
“I didn’t want to bother you. You deserve to rest. Especially when you already wake up so early each morning to make breakfast.” 
Sanji hums, stepping farther into the kitchen. He looks more awake now than he did when he first arrived. His eyes don’t stray from your own as he speaks, no longer concerned about the state of the galley. 
“For you, love, it’s never a bother.” The smile he offers you sends your heart fluttering in your chest. “Anyway, I’m awake now. What would you like to eat?” 
He’s too good to you, too gentle. How could your heart ever stand a chance?
“I was just planning on eating a little chocolate, but it seems like there's only the unsweetened kind right now.” 
“Ah, of course. Only something sweet would be fitting for my sweetheart.” 
Your breath catches in your throat. His. He called you his. 
You bring your hand up to your mouth, trying to hide the growing grin that spreads on your lips as you nearly melt from his words. The warmth blossoming in your chest will surely turn you into a puddle on the floor, and then Sanji will know just how much his words affect you (if he doesn’t know already).
“Can we make something with chocolate in it?” you ask.
“We?” Sanji repeats, as if he didn’t expect you to help him in this task. His gaze softens, eyes gleaming with something like affection, before adding. “Of course we can. How do strawberry and chocolate hand pies sound? I picked up some fresh jam at the last port.”  
“It sounds perfect,” you say. It’s far more than you hoped to find during your late night search. When you got out of bed, you never would have guessed what kind of sweet you would find in the kitchen. You definitely didn’t expect to spend time baking with Sanji.
The two of you work comfortably together, only speaking when Sanji provides specific instructions or when you need clarification. The hazy fog of sleep still hovers over the both of you, even if you’re both awake enough now to function.
“Could you grab the chocolate chips for me?” Sanji asks. 
It’s a simple request, one you can easily complete. You know where he keeps the chocolate chips, the unsweetened treat seeming much more appealing now that they’re going to be baked into something.
You make your way back over to the counter, situating yourself below the cabinet where the chocolate is stored. Then, you place your hands on the cool surface, preparing to make the climb. You’re certain Sanji knew this was the path necessary for you to take to reach the ingredient too. There’s no way for you to reach the chocolate chips without being higher up. 
As you jump, using the force of your arms to help pull yourself up towards the counter just like you’ve done in other kitchens many times before, an unexpected force settles on your shoulders, pushing your feet back towards the ground.
“None of that, sweetheart. There will be no climbing on the countertops in my kitchen,” Sanji reprimands. He’s gentle in his scolding, the uptick of his lips and gleam in his eye letting you know he’s not really mad. “Sorry, I thought they were a bit lower.”
He doesn’t seem sorry. 
You open your mouth to protest against what could only be meant as a jab about your height, but only a squeak comes out. Sanji’s warmth seeps into your back as he presses close, the shape of his hand burning into your hip as it settles there. You can feel the way his body stretches as he reaches up, leaning further into you, before easily grabbing the bag that seemed so far out of your reach. Any words you might have had to tell off the man for doing something for you when you could easily do the task yourself (as long as you could climb on the counter) fizzle out. 
Sanji doesn’t look at you as he reaches for the chocolate, but the easy smile on his lips morphs into a lazy smirk. His thumb rubs slow, intentional circles where his hand remains steady on your hip, as if he was soothing a startled animal, coaxing you to stay close instead of running away, something you just might have done if he wasn’t purposefully grounding you while your thoughts soared. 
Oh no, you think. He knows.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Sanji was already aware of your feelings for him—you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve—but you had tried not to make your feelings for the chef too obvious. 
Sanji pulls the chocolate chips down, but he doesn’t step away. He still holds you close as he bends, his face lowering until it’s right beside yours. Then, without warning, his lips are pressed to the curve of your cheek. 
The kiss is quick, feather-light, but you’re certain he can feel the way your blood burns just beneath the surface of your skin, his quiet mumble of so warm the only confirmation you need, even if you weren’t meant to hear. 
“Sorry, sweetheart, I just couldn’t help myself.” Before you can react, Sanji steps away from you, taking you in for only a moment longer before turning back to the task at hand. With how smoothly he acted, there’s no way he hadn’t planned that little stunt he pulled.  
He definitely knows.  
Sanji is already placing the hand pies in the oven by the time you’re finally able to move again, and you can’t help but feel almost frustrated that the chef didn’t give you a chance to return his affection. 
You’re left waiting impatiently as he sets the timer, the miniature pies now the last thing on your mind. Sanji doesn’t seem to understand—you’re craving something sweet, and as far as you’re concerned, the sweetest thing on this ship is him. 
a/n: thank you for reading〜♡
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churipu · 5 months
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𐙚 THREE TIMES NANAMI MADE YOU CRY ⋆ ˚。
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featuring. nanami kento x reader
warning. referral to the reader as 'wife'
note. i just felt so mellow today — because a lot of sad nanami edits have been passing by in my fyp and i'm about to have a mental breakdown because of it, when i catch gege >:( a lil note, i cried writing this bcs i miss nanami so much help
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✴ ONE : WHEN HE PROPOSED TO YOU
it took him a short time to realize that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you — he sees you cooking breakfast at the crack of dawn just for him before he goes to work, and he realizes that, yes, you were the one for him.
"do you want to marry me?"
your head turned to him slowly, eyes following just a few seconds after and you blinked, "i'm sorry, what?" you ask him.
nanami's eyes raised up to meet yours, "do you want to marry me?" he repeats his question calmly.
it was a day like every other — the both of you sitting on the couch, the television on yet nobody's paying attention to it. nanami has his eyes on the magazine in his grasp, and you were on your phone, scrolling through social media.
"yeah, of course i do."
nanami takes out a velvet colored box from his pocket and opens it up, you stared at him in confusion; wondering if this was a joke or not, is he actually proposing to you while you were in your pjs? but that actually didn't bother you — it was the fact he is proposing to you.
"marry me." he murmurs out softly, taking the beautiful ring out of its place, waiting for your acknowledgement.
your tears began flowing out and it took nanami by surprise, "sweetheart, i'm sorry. was it too sudden? you don't have to—" you shook your head at him, wiping your tears away.
"i'm just so . . . happy, ken."
that was the first time he made you cry.
✴ TWO : HIS WEDDING VOWS
your wedding was a simple ceremony. it was filled with fun and laughter, your loved people were there — his loved people were there, gojo and his students were there. it was just, a one fine day, really.
when it comes to the delivering of vows, traditionally; the groom goes first.
"y/n, i'm not good with my words, but you know me better than anyone else, so i assume you know that as well. we met five years ago when i bought a casse-croûte in a bakery you worked in; and if you had told me then that we'd be standing here and i'd be spending the rest of my life with you, maybe i wouldn't believe in you and told you that you were saying nonsense.
first and foremost, i would never thought that a one stop shop in a bakery would lead me to the love of my life — that day, i decided to stop by the bakery you worked in because my usual place was closed for the day, when i think about that, i get so overwhelmed; if my usual shop had opened that very day, maybe you would be standing here with another man, another man who is not me.
y/n, you are the most curious person i have ever met in my life. and i am pretty sure you are asking yourself now, what is kento thinking of right now? the answer is you. i am thinking about you now, later, and forever. from the first day you asked me if i liked casse-croûte, i have not once stopped thinking about you.
i was never a person who sought for relationship or thought of it a lot in the past, but when you came into my life. i began thinking of my future with you, making our own happy family, having kids, traveling the world, all of that. the moment i saw you take your time to wake up before me to cook me breakfast before i go to work, i knew i just had to make you my wife. i want to spend the rest of my life with you.
you love me and completed me in ways i do not know existed, and my love — i promise you, that from here onwards, i will continue to love you and every piece of you and for who you are yet to become. i promise to be your husband, your best friend, your partner in crime as you always like to name it, and your number one supporter, also as you name it.
above all, i promise to show you how lucky i am to have you in my life. i cannot wait to start a new chapter in my life with you, i love you."
it was safe to say that everyone in the room was crying, including you (and gojo, who had to be escorted out by megumi because the male was straight up sobbing loudly).
✴ THREE : WHEN HE DIED
shibuya. october 31, 2018. god, how much you dreaded every single thing that happened in there — just the thought of october coming after that year made your stomach churn in sadness.
the day a lot of people lost their life, including nanami.
nanami is a strong man, and you know so. you believed in him, never did you once stopped believing in your husband; but the whole time nanami was fighting for his and everyone's life in shibuya, you were back at home with your few months old son.
"daddy is going to be okay, yeah? he's gonna be back soon," you cooed to your son despite the rising wariness.
but no, nanami never came back.
the one to break the news was no other than itadori yuuji himself, the sole witness to your husband's passing — he knocked on your door, beaten up, although his wounds were tended to. you knew the shibuya incident scarred the young boy with something that couldn't be closed off now or maybe ever.
"he's not coming back, is he?" you ask the teen with a sad smile.
itadori broke down on your porch that day. and you, nanami's wife was the one comforting him, after all, watching someone you care die in front of you was traumatizing. but itadori blamed himself for nanami's death — he was baffled when you pulled him into a tight hug, "it's my fault y/n-san! i killed him. he's dead because of me."
as much as nanami doesn't display his affection to itadori, you were a witness to how nanami really feels towards the young boy. telling you how he wishes your son would grow up to be just like itadori, bubbly and energetic. nanami cares about itadori like the boy was his own — although failing to show it.
"did he . . . did he say anything before he . . ?"
itadori cried in your embrace, "he . . . said he was sorry. for not coming back. and that he loves you and your son so much . . ." itadori was barely taking breaths in, he was hyperventilating in your arms, "he said he was sorry that he won't be able to accompany you to malaysia."
"okay." you didn't cry as itadori was breaking the news to you, you couldn't.
nanami's death quieted you — you didn't cry the first week, still not believing he was actually gone. finding yourself sitting on the couch, waiting for the male to open the door and to call out for you, "y/n, i'm home."
but it never happened. nanami was really gone. he's really dead.
grief is such an odd feeling, you relied on itadori to look after your son for the first two weeks as you didn't find yourself in the right mind to be capable of taking care of your own flesh and blood. a day before your son was going back into your care — you went grocery shopping, to buy things both nanami and you used to buy.
it was a mistake on your part not to use a basket or a trolley, putting all the stuff on the cashier counter was hard work. and as the baby food you put on top of the pile slipped through your fingers and dropped onto the floor, splattering the contents everywhere, you can't help but to let a few stray tears out.
your silent sobs turning into a full blown breakdown in the middle of a grocery shop as everything began coming in, a reality check.
that nanami was no longer going to be there with you again, you couldn't feel him anymore, you couldn't hear him anymore, you couldn't smell his cologne anymore.
but the world doesn't stop for that, it will keep going and you had to go on with your life without him.
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bunnywritesjunk · 11 months
Text
My King
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Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?
Chapter summary: You get a call from your mother regarding your match. You are nervous to meet them, but they turn out to be a pleasant surprise.
Pairing: König x Fem Reader
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI (no others for this chapter)
Word count: 4.1k (damn thats a lot for me)
Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there.
A/n: Yo Yo Yo whatup. New fic dropping. This one is black/poc coded but anyone can read. I haven't seen any poc coded cod fics just yet (if you know any send them my way). If you do not like Omegaverse fics please do not read. Also I tried making a cute little mood board, i think it sucks but I tried my best. Konig art credit. (I couldn't find the art credit for the girl). König and reader are neurospicy. I got inspired to do an Apex Alpha König from @ghostlythunderbird go give them some love please. Also this is kinda what I imagine him looking like.
Next Chapter
Chapter One:
His back ached as he climbed the few steps to his door. The passage back to his home was uncomfortable. All König wanted to do with collapse on his bed. The duplex he resided in was decent, the little old woman who rented it to him was very sweet. König had a hard time getting anyone to rent to him. His status as an Apex alpha was concerning for most people. They believed him to be violent and inconsiderate. His landlord is an omega that lives with her alpha mate. König managed to convince her. She thought he was sweet and kind. He opened the foyer door that lead to both apartments. He glanced at the mailbox, wondering if he should wait until morning. Begrudgingly, he took out the small mailbox key and fiddled the metal box open. He grabbed the plethora of mail and closed the box gently. The box was filled up quite a bit as he had not been home in a couple of weeks. 
Heading up the stairs he filed through the mail. Most were junk coupons and magazines, some were credit card sign-up letters. One envelope caught his eye. It had no company name just a large white manila envelope addressed to him. He opened his door and stepped inside placing the mail and his belongings on his couch. He ripped open the envelope and took out a thin book. It had the circular logo of the AOMO, the Alpha Omega Match organization. 
König started at the cover his heartbeat sped up the longer he thought about it. He signed up for the program after a particularly hard mission he had in KorTac. He left and joined the 141 and decided he wanted an omega. A lot of the men in the 141 had partners they could come home to. König wanted that. Most people were too afraid to be in a committed relationship with him. König often settled for one-night stands with betas but it left him feeling empty. He opened the packet to the first page.
'Congratulations!' The first word read. His heart beat harder the more he read. 
'We have found you a match!' König's heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. 
'In the plastic wrap, we've provided a fresh scent sample from your potential match. If you like the scent of your match, please send us a scent sample from you as soon as possible.' 
König gripped the packet and leaned over the table, putting his weight on the table. He took a deep breath, he felt a mix of fear and excitement. When he signed up he was not hopeful for a match. He assumed his situation was too complicated for them. He flipped through the packet before reading the rest searching for the scent sample. A plastic bag fell out onto the table. It was sealed and had a verification sticker assuring its authenticity. König picked up the bag carefully. It had a square of white fabric inside it. He took his hood off before opening the bag gingerly. The scent instantly made his knees weak. This Omega had a warm and spicy scent. Coconut and sugary vanilla with hints of sandalwood. König stuffed his nose into the bag inhaling the deep rich smell of this Omega. 
König sealed the scent sample wanting to savor it. He opened the packet back up to the first page. It said once he mailed his scent sample and was approved by his match, they would arrange a meeting with him and his match. There was more information about this Omega and their family along with the reasoning for them picking them. They informed him that this omega was a twenty-six-year-old female. Her father is also an Apex Alpha, he is retired American military. They did not provide a picture of any matches because they wanted the connection to be based on instinct rather than looks. Her mother is an Omega that works as a teacher. There is not much else about the Omega but, König is hopeful. He reads the instructions to send his scent sample. They provided a kit with a form envelope, a small square of fabric, and a plastic bag, almost identical to the one he received from his match. 
'Wash your hands, and rinse any dirt off of your scent glands.'
'Then remove the fabric from the plastic.'
'Rub the fabric on your clean scent glands for 20-25 minutes.'
'Seal the fabric thoroughly in the bag provided .'
He shed his vest and protective gear, the last thing he wanted was for her to smell dust and gunpowder on him. König tried to quell his excitement as he followed the directions. Rushing to his bathroom and then back to his dining room. The fabric square was slightly smaller than his palm. He cupped the crook of his neck, sandwiching the fabric between his hand and his neck. He rubbed gently filling it with his scent. He read the rest of the packet as he rubbed. The rest was mostly semantics about the company and its policies. He combed it a few more times trying to memorize every piece of information about his Omega. 
König smiled gently, he shouldn't think of her as his yet. She smelled so good, too good for him. He smelled the cloth every once in a while to ensure his scent was potent enough. When he was done he placed it in the bag and sealed it. He filled out the form and packed the pre-paid envelope neatly. He grabbed his keys and left his apartment to go to the mail drop-off on the corner of the block. He needed to send it today, he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't. He walked back to his apartment having long forgotten about his back pain. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You looked at the list on your phone pushing your shopping cart. Buying the week's groceries had fallen to you this time as your mother was dealing with state testing for her students and your dad was on a hunting trip. You maneuvered the isles expertly collecting the items on your list. As well as some extra sweet snacks you like to indulge in much to our mother's chagrin. You were about to put a pack of Oreos in the cart when your mom called.
“Hello?” You answered but all you can hear was excited screeching. You held the phone away from your ear until she quieted down. 
“He accepted you!!!” She screamed. 
“What? Mom, you're too loud.” 
“The match company! The match they picked liked your scent.” She giggled. 
You were slightly stunned. Your parents signed you up for the AOMO when you were eighteen. You weren't that on board with it but you let them. You know they only want the best for you. You kept sending scent samples every year but they never got back to you about anything. Now, six years later they show up with a match for you. 
“I just got the call, they're sending a scent sample for you right now it's gonna get here in a few days.” 
“Wow...” That was all you managed to say. 
“Now I know this wasn't your ideal way to meet someone, but just please be open-minded sweetheart.” 
You sighed. “I will. I'm finishing up at the grocery and I'll head home.”
“Alright, I'm gonna be home soon too, bye sweetie.” 
You hung up the phone and stood in the aisle. You placed the pack of Oreos in the cart and moved to get the rest of the items before checking out. 
When you arrived home your mother was there waiting. She squealed and hugged you before helping you take the grocery bags inside. 
“I am so excited for you! I have heard so many good things about the AOMO. I bet whoever they picked is gonna be great.”
“Let's hope.” You say. 
The next few days went by quickly. You dove into writing your next few chapters to take your mind off of the match. The sequel to your best-selling fantasy novel was underway. Your days consisted of writing, planning, engaging with fans, and talking to your editor. You typed out the outline for the next few chapters when you heard a knock. 
“Come in.” You said. 
Your mother walked in holding a large envelope. “Guess what came today?” She said excitedly. 
 Your heart thumped with anxiety. She placed the envelope on your desk.
“I’ll leave you to it, let me know if you like them.” She sauntered out of the room happily. 
You picked up the envelope and opened it pulling out a packet of information. You flipped to the first page. 
‘Congratulations!’ It read. 
‘The match we have chosen for you wants to meet you. Once you contact us with your acceptance of their scent, we will arrange for them to meet you and your family with the chaperone of one AOMO agents to facilitate. The two of you will go on a date and get to know each other before deciding whether to move forward. If you do not accept the scent, we will put you back in our database to be matched with someone else.’ 
In the middle of the pages, there was a plastic bag with a white cloth in it. You picked it up and sighed. You doubted you would like the scent. Most alphas were off-putting to you, either way too strong of a scent of they smelled like dishwater. You opened the bag casually and took a whiff. Your inner Omega preened at the musk that erupted from the bag. 
“Oh my…” You inhaled deeply. 
This Alpha…smelled good? He smelled like chocolate and dark roast espresso. There were some hints of fresh baked bread and cinnamon. You caught yourself before you got lost in his scent. You sealed the bag up and took a breath. Maybe, this would be a good experience for you. You scanned through the rest of the information looking over what little they provide about this Alpha. He is a male Alpha, non-American but they did not specify what country. The only other thing they said about him was that his demeanor was shy and that he is military. The instructions said to call the number if you wanted to meet him. You reached for your phone a little too eagerly and dialed the number. A woman’s voice answered.
“Hi, you’ve reached the Alpha Omega Match organization how may I help you?”
“Hi, um I got an Alpha’s scent in the mail, and I want to meet him.” You said awkwardly.
“What’s your name and date of birth?” You told her, nervously. 
“Please hold while I transfer you.” 
The light piano hold music came on, you fidgeted with your sleeve. 
“This is Kara, how may I help you?”
“Oh hi, I got an Alpha’s scent in the mail and I would like to meet him.”
“Alright, let me get your file from reception she’s sending it right now…Ah got it. Oooh ok great I am your agent that will be facilitating this meeting. Your parents will want to meet him yes?”
“Definitely.”
“Ok so, what we will do is you and your parents will meet me at a public space of your choice then. I will bring you to meet the Alpha first, then your parents. We like to keep parent meetings brief as they tend to try and challenge the Alpha. I will have you know, this Alpha is an Apex like your dad. That is one of the reasons we chose you as his match, you have experience with an Apex. Will you be comfortable with all that?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Your head was reeling from all this information. Great, I see you guys are in New York City which is one of my favorite places to visit. Do you have anywhere in mind to meet?” 
“Um, we could do the Highline, there’s food, and it's pretty.” 
“Oh, that’s a great idea let me write it down here. How does September ninth at noon sound to you? A weekday so there are not too many people.” 
Your heart jumped, that’s in two days.
“Uh, sure.” 
“Alright, I will send you a follow-up email regarding our plans all you need to do is confirm. Your match will be notified, and his flight will be booked as soon as we receive confirmation. Do you have any other questions?” 
“No not at the moment.” 
“Ok, don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any concerns. I will see you in a few days.” 
“Bye.” 
You put your phone on your desk and walked out of your room. Your mother was standing a few feet away from your door. When she noticed you, her face lit up.
“So? How was the scent? Are you meeting them?” 
You smiled and nodded “Yup, in two days.” 
She squealed and captured you in a bone-crushing hug.
“I can’t wait! Let’s go tell your father!” She practically ran down the hall. 
You walked to your living room where your otherwise stoic-looking dad was watching TV. 
“Tell us about them, sweetheart.” Your mother said. Your dad turned the volume on the TV down and looked at you expectantly.
“Well, I don’t know much but, I know he’s not American and that he might be shy…He smells good.” 
“That’s important, I hope you wouldn’t pick someone who smells like shit.” Your dad chimed in. 
“He’s also military, and an Apex.” You added quickly. 
Your mother gasped quietly, and your father raised his eyebrows.
“Now that’s intriguing.” Your mom said smiling.
“You already booked a meeting with him?” Your dad asked. You nodded. 
“You should’ve asked me first.” He pinched his nose bridge in annoyance. 
“Well, he’s my match and I wanted to meet him.”
“Apex Alphas are dangerous. I would know.”
“Oh, please honey it’ll be fine.” Your mother ridiculed him.
“It’s my choice, Dad. You guys are the ones who signed up, I finally got a match, so I want to see it through. If it doesn’t work out, then I’ll call it off.”
Your father growled lowly. “Fine.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your mother insisted to dress you in a cutesy outfit, so you let her have her moment. She dressed you in a dark floral dress that hugged your curves just right. She added dainty jewelry along with your protective collar. You didn’t usually wear it but again, she insisted. She did your hair half up half down. Your dad was waiting by the front door with your mom’s purse in hand. 
The train ride there was silent, your mother looked utterly content while your father was peeved about this whole situation. You arrived at the station and walked to the Highline. You got a text from Kara telling you what she looked like and where she was. She was wearing a dark blue pencil skirt and a white blouse. She stood up as you and your family approached. You stuck your hand out to shake hers.
“Nice to meet you guys, come sit.” She said motioning to the bench she was on. 
Your father stayed standing while you and your mother took a seat next to her. 
“So, there are some things I want to go over with you all and then I’ll talk to you privately and do the official meeting ok?”
“He’s here?” You said in an almost panicked tone.
Kara chuckled. “He is here but I left him to wait somewhere out of sight for now.”
She continued. “His name is König, he was born in Austria. When we did his psyche and personality evaluations, we found that he has neurodivergent tendencies, like you. Our matches with people that have a similar way of communicating have gone well.”
“Wait, neurodivergent?” Your mom chimed in. 
“Yes, your daughter did show signs of some behavioral abnormalities, but she is high functioning.”
“I told you that Mom.” You say giving her a deadpan look. Your mother looked down and gave a small ‘hmm’. Kara continued. 
“He does struggle with social anxiety so please be patient with him. Other than that, he currently lives in Amsterdam, if you choose to go forward that is where you will live.”
Your dad finally spoke “Is Amsterdam safe for people like us?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 
“Oh yes, Amsterdam has many people from different places and backgrounds. It is one of the most popular immigration and tourist countries, don’t worry.”
“Alright, how about you come with me, and we’ll get your meeting started.”
Kara led you away, you turned and did a small wave to your parents your mom smiled back at you warmly. 
“So, I will be in contact with you the whole time. If you want to go just say the word, I am never going to be more than a couple minutes away. Honestly, I don’t think you’ll have any issues with him.” 
She led you to a restaurant below the high line, it had indoor and outdoor seating. There were a lot of people laughing and drinking. Your heartbeat sped up as you scanned the crowd. The scent of food entered your nose. Everyone’s scent in the dining area mixed into an indescribable concoction. Among the borderline overwhelming smells, you got a hint of something familiar, espresso. 
You scanned the large room trying to pinpoint where it was coming from or if you were just imagining it. I dark figure near the corner of the room caught your eye. He looked way too large for the chair he was sitting in. He was looking down at his hands, dirty blonde hair covered his forehead. He was wearing a black cloth mask along with a form-fitting black shirt. As soon as you walked in he raised his head. You looked away pretending you weren't staring at him. Kara led you straight to his table.
“This is König.” She gestured to him. 
He stood up to shake your hand still keeping himself hunched at the waist to appear smaller. You shook his hand and smiled as you introduced yourself. He nodded and said a small 'hmm' to acknowledge you. 
“Alright, I'll be near. Have fun.” Kara left swiftly.
You sat down in the chair across from him as he did the same. A wave of anxiety came as you did, not knowing how to break the ice with him. You picked up the menu and scanned it.
“Did you order yet?” You ask.
“No, I was waiting for you.”
“Well thank you, what looks good?” 
“The Steak frites look pretty good.” He glued his menu.
“I'm excited for dessert, they have chocolate cheesecake.”
He chuckled and it made your stomach flip.
“You like sweets?” He asked.
“Very much.” You smile at him. 
The waitress came over and asked if you wanted any drinks. König looked at you, waiting for you to order first. 
“I'll try the elderberry gin and tonic.” You said.
 Konig was about to order when the table next to us erupted in loud laughter. He jumped slightly before answering the waitress. 
“I'll get the house Lager.” He said. 
The waitress left to grab the drinks. The adjacent table was still very loud. The group of friends hollering and screaming obviously day drunk. Konig had his head slightly turned away from them in an attempt to lessen the noise. It was subtle but you could tell. You reached into your bag and brought out a pair of foldable headphones. You turned on the noise cancellation and gave them to him. He looked slightly confused. 
“Put them on.” You encourage him. 
When he did the noise muffled and the restaurant was much quieter. You could see the tension in his shoulders ease by the second. His scent sweetened
“Is that better? Can you hear me ok?” 
König swears he could've kissed you right then and there, but he settles on a nod. 
“Thank you, Leibe.” 
“No problem.”
The waitress came by with the drinks and asked if the two of you are ready to order entrees. You ordered the fish and König ordered the Steak. While you waited, you two had a pleasant small talk about his flight and how he is enjoying his visit. He hesitated to take off his mask at first so you focused on your menu to give him the space to be comfortable with you. You glanced up and took in his face. He was beautiful, he had scars on his face that added ruggedness to his chiseled features. König noticed your scent amplify as you gazed at him. His inner alpha pushed him to be closer, to know more about you.
“So, you're in the military?” 
He nods. “I work for a military contractor. Do you work?”
“Sort of, I'm an author so I work from home.”
“That is nice, are you published?” König was secretly very happy he'd get to have you at home all day. 
“Yes, I am. I'm working on my sequel right now. Do you like to read? Or, do you read in German?” 
He chuckled. “I have not had much time to read lately, but I will now.”
“Well, you have to buy my book of course.” You giggled. 
König nearly fell off his chair at the sound. This Omega was everything he wanted. He prayed to whatever god was up there that you felt something with him. By the time the food came you both fell into a comfortable rhythm. He asked about your childhood and hobbies. It was a change of pace, most Alphas are very self-centered, but he is putting effort into getting to know you. The food came out and you both ate. He offered bites of his food for you to try which you happily returned the favor. By the time you finished your food, you hadn't noticed how much time has gone by. Kara texted you to check-in. 
'Hey, so I saw things were going well so I let you guys talk for an hour and a half but, your parents are getting antsy. Are you guys ready to see your parents?' 
“Oh, Kara is asking if we're ready to see my parents.” 
König fiddled with his fork. “I'm ready.” 
He paid the bill and you both left the restaurant. You took in the full size of the Alpha you matched with. He was no less than a giant. He held the door for you but stopped before he walked through. 
“I forgot something, I'll be back.” He walked back into the restaurant. 
Kara walked up to you. “How did it go?” 
“I...really like him...”
“I know, that feeling is scary. I think you guys are a wonderful match.”
König came out holding a small to-go box. He handed it to you, you could tell he was smiling under his mask. 
“What's this?”
Inside the box was a slice of chocolate cheesecake and a fork.
“We forgot to order dessert.” 
You were stunned, you didn't think there could be Alphas that were so thoughtful. Your inner Omega soared, this Alpha was courting you so well. 
“Thank you, König, that's really sweet.” 
“Ah, here they are.” Kara said. 
Your parents walked up to the three of you. Your mother had a surprised but happy look on her face. Your father kept his deadpan face from earlier, not a good sign. 
“Wow, sweetheart you caught a big one!” Your mom chuckled. 
“Parents, this is König.” Kara said. 
Your mother introduced herself and your father as he stood there sizing up the taller Apex. 
“Alright, let's keep things brief parents do you have any questions for König?”
“Well, as long as she likes him I don't.” Your mother said. 
“Can you protect her?” Your dad asked putting some venom behind his words. 
“I would never let anything happen to her sir. You have my word.” König answered without hesitation. 
Your dad nodded and looked at you. “You like him?”
“...Yeah I do.” 
“Alright then, that's all that matters.” 
“Well, I think it's safe to say that the match is made. I will contact you for the next steps. Parents, let's let them say goodbye.” Kara led your parents away.
You turned to König. “Thank you for meeting with me, I had a really good time.” You saw a faint blush at the top of his mask. 
“I also had a good time, liebe.” 
“What does that mean?”
“Ah...it means love.” 
“Oh well...” You motioned for him to come bend down close to you.
When he got close enough you pecked his cheek. 
“I'll see you soon, love.” 
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