Hi noomfie!! Id like a “just admit it. you like me.”, desire with xavier and non mc! Trope could be wtv u want <3
hi my love!! i hope you like this lol im not sure if its what you wanted :( i decided to make nonmc work at a hotpot place xavier frequents lol, i hope its cute! <3
You handed Xavier his change, easily making small talk.
"Xavier… is this your third time coming in this week?"
Xavier reddened slightly, giving a small nod.
"Do you like hotpot that much, or do you just like me?" You grinned, leaning closer.
Xavier didn't answer for a beat, instead glancing away.
You pushed forward, tapping on the tip of his nose. "Come on," you purred. "Just admit you like me."
As if something broke in him, Xavier leaned in, hands gripping the counter. "It's a lot more than like," he murmured softly. "But I don't think you're ready for that.”
Hey if you’re still doing drabble requests, could we have the reader infodumping about frogfish to Rafayel? I love those lil guys :)
guess who just learned about frogfish :D unfortunately i didn’t get a lot of actual info dumping in but i would definitely recommend looking into them for anyone who doesn’t know about frogfish bc theyre rlly cool omg
"They're so cool!" you exclaimed. "Frogfish are considered masters of disguise because they're so good at mimicry. They just sit around and wait for prey, and then they swallow it, like, instantly!"
Rafayel nodded along, eyes following each of your excited movements with a soft grin. "You're not getting a new favorite fishie, are you?" he teased, feigning offense.
You paused, squinting at Rafayel. "Frogfish have always been my favorite."
"Not me?!" he gasped. "I'm hurt, cutie. Why do you wound me so?"
You chuckled, lightly shoving him. "If I call you cute, can I keep yapping?"
billy being so enamored with the idea of you being his wife and sharing a home <3 he's so excited to get home and see what you've been knitting or sewing each day :(( he makes a fuss over the curtains you made and the blanket you've been knitting. he distracts you from cooking with kisses. he builds you a garden fence. he loves having a place to put his clothes and hat on the dresser every night.
i had to change my format for numbering bonus chapters for this one. kill me
summary: scene i wanted to put in tom's sickfic but it sort of shifted the vibe and also added 1.5k to something that was already Long. features tom and amy !! mostly a lore drop i think
cw: none honestly. we're chilling <3
---
He couldn't decide if he should be mortified when Amethyst showed up. The fever had broken, and he was feeling a lot more normal, but it was still vaguely humiliating to not be able to get out of bed. The sun filtered in through half-closed curtains, and he was idly doodling when she knocked on the door. It was already open. He didn't know why she did that. As if he hadn't felt her presence as she came up the stairs.
"Hey," he said quietly.
They blinked at him, studied him. They were wearing no makeup, except for bright blue eyeshadow and black eyeliner. Her hair was in a long braid, brown at the roots fading to her usual pink. Striking, as always. Something about him felt raw, and they were always so… pristine. How did they do it?
"Heard you came down with something. Bad."
Tom grumbled, burying his face in his hands. Calyx had switched out the bandages for regular plasters, but the cuts still hurt distantly underneath them.
"Thought I'd just come and see how you're doing."
He squinted through his hands at her, raising an eyebrow.
She gave him a small smile, leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arm. "Okay, well, I came for Calyx. Said I'd take them for a walk."
"Is that safe?" His voice was still a little scratchy.
She shrugged. "Yeah."
If anyone else had said it, he would not have believed them, and would have point-blank refused to let them leave without him. But this was Amethyst.
She just feels so safe, Calyx said once. That felt like it had been such a long time ago. He'd thought it was their typical love-struck excitement, but no. When he met her, he felt it too. This enveloping feeling, cushioning. He felt it now, seeping into his pores. There was a weightiness to it. It made no sense. How could lightness be weighty? He felt so settled around her. Things slowed down.
A shaft of light from the not-quite-closed curtain illuminated her torso, but he could swear that she glowed herself. Some transient outline surrounded her. He'd seen the wings before, thrown out in outline of shadow and in refractions of her jewellery. He had never seen her quite like this. Come to think of it, the aura seemed stronger to him now. Not as pleasant as it usually was. Almost like a sinus headache, but maybe he was still just unwell.
"What?" she asked, not fully accusatory, but confused. He understood. They both had guards up. It was strange for him to be considered in the way he was considering her. They usually didn't.
"Nothing. Sorry. You look nice."
"Thank you?" He said the compliment genuinely; perhaps that was what threw her.
She seemed to shift and sway, like he shouldn't be looking at her. Like how they described mirages. He saw every dust particle in the air that refused to sit on her skin. She was not dressed for the winter at all. She'd just come in from outside. She was wearing a white hoodie, showing off the scar she had yet to explain and likely never would, black denim shorts, with a fluffy black coat folded over her arm.
"Shorts in this weather is crazy," he remarked quietly.
She looked down, as if noticing for the first time. "Wasn't really paying attention. I don't get cold."
No, of course you don't. Angels were always cold. She had to know that he knew that.
He had a feeling that neither of them were entirely convinced of what they were. These things were so unstudied and so difficult to talk about. Hardly anyone needed to. Tom found most demons insufferable, and no angel had ever given him the time of day. And here was Amy, checking to see if he was okay. He wondered what he could give to her.
"Are you real?" he blurted. He wasn't sure why he said it. Everything felt a little cloudy.
When she laughed, the light around her pulsated. He could swear that the light pulsated.
"Is anyone?" she replied. "But yes. Real enough."
"That's such a bad answer."
"Sorry!" Then she giggled, and he couldn't help but smile at the sound. It was a little like windchimes, or birdsong. Something simultaneously rare and common that stops you in your tracks anyway. She continued as normal.
"I got you strawberries."
He saw a bag in her hand for the first time, a tote with a black-and-white floral pattern on it. It matched her outfit. Of course it did. She had a new one every time he saw her, and Tom was not convinced that she wasn't stealing, or swapping. It was a funny thought and likely untrue, and he was in no mind to stop thinking it.
"Oh. Really? You didn't have to."
Amy hummed. "I know. Amber said I should get 'sick food', but I don't get sick so I don't know what that is."
He stared at her. "Strawberries are good, I think, and I'm getting better already. Thanks."
"Don't worry about it."
A moment of silence. The clouds shifted outside, and he saw the clearest wings he'd ever seen outlined in the shape they made. He wondered what they looked like, really. When she wasn't hiding them.
"What do I look like? To you?"
He was asking whether she could see the truth of him, like he could see the truth of her. He pointed to his head, feeling and not feeling the ghost of horns that should have come into their own long ago. He would have had wings too. How strange, that they'd landed in such close proximity to each other, coming from two entirely different worlds.
He liked that the common thread was Calyx. There was something so soft and open about them. It was impossibly endearing.
Amethyst tilted her head at him, and for a moment, he thought he'd get an honest answer. Something in her eyes softened, and she leaned towards him, just the smallest amount. Then her face cracked into a smile, an eclipsing, shining, grin.
"Just a kid, Tom. Get better."
She glanced at him on her way out of his room, like she knew what he knew. There was a glint in her eye and no malice. But she wouldn't say it. Why wouldn't she say it?
Did it matter? Did he really, genuinely care, what she saw? She had come to visit. She took care of Calyx, and trusted him with them. Maybe it was a kindness. This way, he could pretend that there was no difference between them.
She'd left the strawberries on the bed. She hadn't stepped nearly close enough to the bed. He hadn't even seen her do it. Were strawberries even in season?
Did that matter?
He should probably wash them first. Definitely. They were so bright and red and perfect. For a moment, the shop-bought tub of them shifted in his eyes and he saw a basket instead, full to the brim. He blinked. Gone.
"That's weird," he whispered to himself, picking one up to inspect it. It was just a normal strawberry. He may not be able to cast any magic, but he could detect it. Evil, mostly, the signature impossible to forget now. There was none of that. Nothing particularly good, either. He'd be able to tell.
He took a bite, stunned immediately by how sweet it was, but affirmed too — definitely normal. And very good. He ate the rest of it with a continuing expression of awe. He knew where to find strawberries this sweet, but it was a farm that only sold them in August. It was the middle of January.
A flicker of unease flared up in the back of his mind. Then it was gone, a flame extinguished by a simple breath of air. His lungs were not full of ash, his hands were clean and he was not carrying the weight he once had been. He was allowed to eat an angel's strawberries. They were a gift, too. Did that mean anything? For all the studying, he had never quite got his head around all the rules.
He was so tired. The fever had been more than a fever, closer to an inferno burning in his core. It had come in waves, knocking him under so deep that he feared he would never re-emerge.
With Amy gone, so did the tranquil blanket of calm. He felt like he would never want to leave Calyx's side for as long as he lived. It would be good for them to walk. Get out. Not with him and his fretting, but with their carefree angel.
Tom was wrong about the blanket dissipating with Amy's absence. It shifted, but did not leave him entirely. She knew, however subconsciously, that he would have been unable to rest without it.
He dreamt that he was standing barefoot in a field cloaked in fog, so thick he could not see much further than his hand in front of his face. And yet, the sun. Rays so diffuse and gentle cut through the mist, and not one thing made a noise. It seemed to him that there should be some kind of fanfare, a celebration. But he was here, witnessing it, and the sun seemed to believe that this was enough. It wanted nothing more from him.
♡ character A constantly tries to wipe their nervous clammy hands around character B.
♡ "have you ever been in love?" "maybe."
♡ when they fell in love as teenagers and got separated, just to meet again years later in an awkward situation.
♡ character being confused about why their heart always speeds up around their s/o and why they're always blushing.
♡ "trust me?' "with my life."
♡ a morally grey character grinning like an idiot for the first time in their life around their sunshine character.
♡ the nerdy character trying to come up with a scientific reason for why they enjoy the company of their 'friend' so much.
♡ "i crave her presence, i'm overcome with just the need to see her. what the hell is wrong with me?" "you're in love. that's what's wrong."
♡ the characters fighting on opposing sides of the war, just for one to get injured, and the other stares across the battlefield with a growing pain in their chest. but they can't quite place the feeling.
♡ "i think you are my first." "first what?" "love."
♡ character A always trying to find an excuse to hold character B's hand. (most of the excuses are the stupidest thing ever)
♡ "have i ever told you how brilliant you are?" <- leads to both characters confusing their true feelings.
♡ characters both pinning after each other for years just to have a life-and-death situation where they both declare their feelings.
