#//thank you so much for asking! I love these kind of asks :3

[rafesfawn]

🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋

𝜗ৎ⋆｡˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...

or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!

warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!

a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)

this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3

a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.

she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.

sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.

rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.

letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.

"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.

your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.

a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.

you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.

the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.

you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.

he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.

you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.

"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.

still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.

"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.

a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.

just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.

"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.

you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.

"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.

looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.

you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.

[keeryhours]

thankful - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby daddy! Rafe

Summary:

You, Rafe, and Iris spend Thanksgiving with the Camerons.

Request: “maybe baby daddy rafe and y/n spend thanksgiving together as a fam? With some smut? 🤭”

Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, semi-public sex, Rafe has a slight breeding kink and refers to himself as daddy 🙃

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N:

I seriously get so excited when you guys request things, and this one is so timely! I went back in time for this one, so hopefully that’s okay. I hope you enjoy! I’m so glad you guys are loving this series <3 Requests are still open and if you’ve already sent one, I’ll be getting to it!

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list :)

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

—

“You look beautiful.”

That was the first thing Rafe said when you opened the door on Thanksgiving, ready to ride with him to eat dinner with the Camerons. You had dressed in a slightly oversized sage green sweater and a short black skirt with heeled boots. His eyes trailed over your body.

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look good yourself, Cameron.”

A smile lit up his handsome face. And he did look really nice. Rafe wore a dark gray button up with khaki slacks, the sleeves of his shirt hugging his biceps deliciously.

“Where’s my girl?” he asked. You were honestly surprised that wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth.

“JJ has her,” you explained, thumb pointing over your shoulder. “He’s getting her in the car seat.”

Rafe followed you into the house and into the living room, where JJ was just finishing up tightening the straps of Iris’ seat. “All set, pretty girl,” JJ announced to the baby, ignoring Rafe’s presence.

Iris cooed happily at her uncle. She was days away from turning 6 months old, just beginning to learn to sit up on her own. Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of Rafe, and she squealed.

Rafe grinned widely, practically pushing JJ out of the way as he walked up to the seat and crouched to be eye level with his daughter. “Hi, baby girl,” he greeted her, holding out his hand and letting her wrap her tiny hand around his finger. “You ready for your first Cameron Thanksgiving?”

Iris blew bubbles at him, which he took for a yes as he laughed. Iris was dressed in a brown Thanksgiving-themed dress, white tights on her chubby legs to help keep her warm. She had a matching bow in her light brown hair. Her big blue eyes looked right into her father’s matching ones.

Rafe stood, picking up the infant carrier. “Ready to go?” he asked you, and you nodded in confirmation.

Rafe was already out the door and on the way to his truck. JJ gave you a hug before you followed after him. He was baby talking to Iris as he locked her seat into the base. He turned as you approached, a smile on his face.

“Both my girls look stunning today,” he said as he closed the truck door. “I’m a lucky guy.”

You blushed deeply as you both climbed into your sides of the vehicle - you hadn’t officially been Rafe’s girl in a long time, but he seemed to have no intentions of dropping the nickname.

You felt a little nervous on the drive over. It’s not like you weren’t incredibly familiar with the Camerons, but it also felt like a big deal. This was your first Thanksgiving together as a family (well, kind of), and you felt the pressure of it. Not that Iris would care how things went, she’d never remember it obviously, but you would, and you wanted the evening to go well, for the day to be special.

Rafe pulled into the long driveway of Tannyhill, the gorgeous Cameron estate that you had admired your whole life. You used to be incredibly jealous when you were younger, truthfully. You and JJ had a rough home life with an abusive father, so you both spent much of your childhoods dreaming of something better. Tannyhill made frequent appearances in your fantasies. So did Rafe.

At the time, you felt you could never admit your crush on the eldest Cameron to anyone, especially not your best friend Sarah. Because how lame would that have been for you to admit to crushing on her jerk of a big brother? It’s funny how things worked out in the end. You had dated Rafe secretly for a while, but when it came out (awkwardly, with Sarah walking in on you two in a very compromising position), you realized you had worried for nothing because Sarah actually loved the two of you together. She said you brought out the best in Rafe. For a while, at least.

You smoothed your skirt as you climbed out of the truck, watching Rafe retrieve the car seat from the back. You walked side by side to the house, nerves buzzing in your stomach.

The smell of the house hits you immediately - it smells delicious. Your mouth practically waters as you take in the smell of the different foods waiting in the dining room. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were.

The Cameron family greeted you warmly when the three of you walked into the dining room. Ward and Rose both gave you a big hug, followed by Sarah launching herself into your arms and an attack by a nearly-as-excited Wheezie.

You were nothing compared to the little girl bundled in her seat, though. Rafe watched on with a proud smile as his family crowded around the carrier, baby talking to Iris. Ward is the one who unbuckles her and lifts her from her carrier first, holding her to his chest and looking like the proud grandpa he is while the others crowd around. It leaves you feeling warm inside.

The food was already spread across the large table. A huge selection - a perfect looking turkey, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole, any Thanksgiving food you could dream of was prepared to perfection and displayed on the Cameron’s dining table.

When it was time to eat, you took a seat next to Rafe. Iris had a high chair set up for her, but she spent the meal bouncing from lap to lap. The conversation is comfortable and you find yourself laughing through most of the meal. The food is as delicious as it smelled, and you happily eat as much of it as you can.

After dinner, a football game is turned on the huge TV in the living room. Ward retired with a drink in hand to watch, while Wheezie lounged on the couch and Sarah joined Rose in the kitchen, Iris on her hip.

You stood, about to join the girls in the kitchen, when you felt large hands making themselves at home on your waist, warm breath against your ear.

“Let’s sneak off somewhere,” Rafe whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Rafe…” you scolded, turning around to look at him. “We can’t. And we’re literally surrounded by your family-“

“We can,” he interrupted you, hands wandering along your sides, around to grab onto your ass. “C‘mon…”

He grabbed onto your hand and pulled on it, a mischievous smile on his handsome face. You looked around, making sure no one was paying any attention to you. Rafe knew you would give in, but the delight on his face when you move your feet to follow after him is unmatched.

He pulls you down the hall to one of the downstairs bathrooms, quickly pulling you inside and locking the door behind you as you flip on the light switch. You barely have time to take in your surroundings before Rafe’s pressing you up against the door, his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

Rafe’s hands explored every inch of your body he could reach, tracing over your curves, moaning into your mouth as he grabbed your ass again before sliding his hands beneath the hem of your skirt.

“Rafe…” you breathed out against his lips, head going dizzy already from the way he was already everywhere all over you at once.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet for me, baby,” he mumbled, fingers pushing your panties to the side, rubbing against your already throbbing clit. You gasped, eyes falling shut. “Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you promised him, desperate for him to just keep going. You’d do anything as long as he didn’t stop.

Rafe pushed a finger into your entrance, making your head fall back against the door with a thud as your mouth fell open. He began to pump his finger in and out of your tight heat while you tried to keep your legs from collapsing.

“So tight…” Rafe commented as he added a second finger, readying you to take him. “Been missin’ me?”

“I’ve missed you so much,” you confessed easily, causing Rafe to chuckle as he placed kisses along your jaw. He had you losing your mind on nothing but two of his fingers and a few kisses - you never stood a chance with Rafe.

“I’ve missed you too, baby,” he said lowly, mouth moving to your neck to suck and bite along all the sensitive spots he knows by heart.

He used his palm to rub against your clit as he continued to thrust his fingers into your pussy, curling them deep inside to hit that perfect spot that nearly had you collapsing onto the floor if it wasn’t for Rafe’s strong arm around your waist. You let yourself melt into him as he expertly took you apart.

“Gonna cum on my fingers, baby?” he asked, already knowing the answer from the feeling of your walls clenching around him in the most familiar way.

“‘m so close…” you mumbled, head falling forward onto Rafe’s shoulder. He laughed at how weak you became for him, and how easy it was for him to get you there. He couldn’t get enough.

He thrusted his fingers faster, making sure to press against that perfect spot with every push inside. Your legs trembled, whole body electric as you grabbed onto Rafe for dear life, biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans as your release rocked through you intensely. Your cunt spasmed around his fingers as he worked you through it, mumbling whispers of “Good girl, that’s it, fall apart for me, cum all over my fingers pretty girl, that’s fuckin’ right…”

Rafe didn’t even care about your teeth digging into his shoulder, like he barely even noticed it. He pulled out of you slowly and you whined, a cocky smirk growing across his face as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean with a groan. “Still so sweet, baby.”

“Rafe, I need you,” you begged, legs hardly able to hold your weight as you leaned against the bathroom door. You felt pretty pathetic right now.

“Yeah? You still need my cock even after you just came all over my fingers?” Rafe asked, eyes darkened with lust as he grabbed your waist and roughly positioned you to lean over the countertop. “Greedy little cunt.” He smacked your ass hard, making you jump and stifle a moan with your hand.

You watched in the mirror as Rafe pulled your skirt up around your waist, harshly pulling your panties down your legs and stuffing them in his pocket. His eyes met yours in the mirror, mischievous smirk on his lips.

His hands quickly undid his belt and slacks, pushing both his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing cock. You wanted to turn around and get a good look at it - it had been a minute since you’d seen it, but you could never forget how nice it is - but Rafe had you pinned to the counter.

He gave his already rock hard length a couple quick pumps as his other hand rested on your hip, rubbing circles into the skin. He took the time to take in the view before him - his favorite view. You all bent over for him, pussy soaking wet and spread wide for him to fuck however he pleased. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He lined himself up at your entrance, thick cockhead pressing against you eagerly, precum smeared across his tip. His eyes met yours in the mirror.

“You started that birth control, yeah?” he asked, but he was pretty sure he was about to fuck you raw no matter what your answer was.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, pushing your hips back against him. “Been on it for a few weeks. We’re good.”

Rafe didn’t think he could have stopped himself either way, but he felt relieved as he pushed his hips forward, tip breaching your tight hole. You watched his face in the mirror as he slowly filled you, his face completely contorted in pleasure. His brow was furrowed, mouth hanging open as he let out a low, quiet groan, trying his best to hold onto his restraint and not alert the entire household to what you were up to.

His hands dug into your hips harshly as he bottomed out inside of you. His own thighs were trembling, he couldn’t believe the way your pussy was holding onto him, squeezing his cock perfectly like you were made to take him.

“Good, baby?” He gritted out, looking into your eyes in your reflection. You nodded frantically.

“Yeah, baby, want you to fuck me,” you begged.

Rafe let out another quiet groan at your words - fuck, he felt like you would be the absolute death of him sometimes - but it’s exactly what he wanted to hear as he drags his hips back painfully slowly before snapping back into you.

You smack a hand over your mouth just in time for him to thrust back in, the strangled moan that escaped your lips blessedly muffled by your hand. Rafe chuckled darkly, setting a quick pace as he fucked into your tight cunt from behind.

Your free hand gripped onto the side of the counter for some kind of stability. You felt completely at his mercy, your body utterly weak and held up only by the counter beneath you and Rafe’s rough hold on your hips as he pulled your body back against his ruthless thrusts.

“Fuck, yeah, take it,” Rafe grunted out quietly, unable to keep his dirty mouth from running even when you were very much at risk of getting caught. His eyes fluttered closed as his hips snapped into you at a frantic, near desperate pace.

You felt another orgasm building inside as he fucked you just right, cock hitting that same perfect spot with every movement. Rafe leaned over you, placing kisses all over your shoulders and getting close enough to hear the breathy whines and moans he was pulling from your chest.

“Sound so pretty like that…” he huffed, hands sliding up under your sweater to grab at your tits. He impulsively pulled the sweater over your head, messing your hair up in the process before dropping it to the bathroom floor. “Need to see you,” is all the explanation you get. He unclasped your bra to free your naked chest to his hungry eyes. God, how he loved your tits. Especially since having a baby - they were perfect before, but now they’d nearly doubled in size and Rafe was obsessed.

He watched them bounce as he fucked you, the sight pushing him closer and closer to his own release. He wrapped his hands around them, squeezing and playing with your nipples, making you let out the most delicious whines whenever he’d pinch at them. You wished he had taken his shirt off so you could see his gorgeous chest, the way his ab muscles would flex as he pounded into you, biceps contracting as he pulled your body against his own.

“Feels so good, Rafe,” you moaned quietly, wanting to let him know how good he was making you feel, how good he always was to you. “I love your cock.”

Rafe groaned. “I know you do, baby.” He picked up his pace, thrusting into you even harder as he felt both of your releases approaching rapidly. “I love this perfect pussy, she’s always so good for me…”

Rafe’s hands went back to your hips as he started chasing his release, the power and speed of his thrusts sending shockwaves through your body, and shoving you up against the counter so hard you were sure you’d have bruises all over tomorrow. “‘m close again, baby…” you whined.

Rafe removed his right hand from your hip and wrapped his arm around your body, fingers going right for your swollen clit to rub quick, precise circles. “Cum for me again, baby, please, wanna feel you cum all over my cock, just for daddy, please baby girl-“

The combination of his words and his actions violently shoved you over the edge, your mouth dropping open and eyes rolling back as it crashed through you for the second time, but infinitely more intense. Your pussy clenched around his girth over and over as you chanted his name into your own hand, ecstasy coursing through your body like a drug.

Your body practically dragged Rafe into his own release and he leaned over to bury his face in your neck as he came hard, filling you up with his load as he continued to slowly pump his hips through his orgasm while you pulsed around him. “Jesus baby, holy fuck…” You hear his muffled voice against your skin, feel his shaking body laying on top of you.

You both took a minute to calm down before Rafe was pulling out of you, leaving you feeling much more empty than before. He stepped back and admired his work, fingers collecting his release that had dripped out of you and pushing it back inside, making you tremble.

“Don’t want to waste a drop, baby,” he said with that cocky grin back on his face. You’d both made sure to always use protection any time you hooked up since Iris was born, but at the same time Rafe loved the idea of filling you up, the idea of you potentially giving him another perfect baby.

Rafe tucked himself back into his pants as you tried your best to compose yourself, pulling your clothes back on and trying to make them look like they hadn’t just been on the floor and shoved around your waist. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he watched you.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. You raised an eyebrow at his reflection in the mirror. “To dinner,” he clarified, an amused glint in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him. You fussed with your hair, trying your hardest to not leave this bathroom looking freshly fucked. “How do I always let you pull me into these situations?”

“It’s because you can’t resist me,” he said, hands trailing up and down your sides. He squeezed your hips one last time before he pulled away.

“I’m gonna head back out there so we don’t walk out of here together. You take your time.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your lips, then smacked your ass hard before he slipped out the door.

You sighed to your own reflection. Your hair had been thoroughly ruined, lipstick a little smudged. You did your best to pull yourself back together before you exited the bathroom and rejoined the Camerons, who were all gathered in the living room now, Rafe included, Iris on his lap.

“Where have you two been?” Ward asked, completely oblivious. “You missed half the game,” he directed towards Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes darted to yours, smirk still on his lips as he took a sip of his beer. You were grateful you were saved from having to answer when one of whatever teams were playing scored a touchdown, stealing Ward’s attention away entirely.

You didn’t miss the knowing look Sarah gave you, before she rolled her eyes and shook her head with a laugh. You felt your cheeks heating.

When Rafe brought you home, Iris had already passed out. She slept soundly in her car seat as Rafe drove through the dark island, music playing softly from the truck’s speakers to not disturb her rest.

He reached a hand over and rested it on your thigh. You stared at his hand, unsure what to do, until you dropped your hand atop his and interlinked your fingers together. Rafe smiled, looking more content than you’d seen him for most of his life.

“Seriously, thank you for coming,” he said as he put the truck in park in your driveway. He still held your hand as he turned to look at you. “I know it’s still weird, trying to figure out how to…do things, how to…co-parent. But I’m glad we can get along and be a family without her having to be with one or the other.”

You smiled softly at the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad, too. I had a good time.”

Rafe smirked at you then. “Yeah? You had a good time with me?”

You felt yourself blushing - you had meant the whole event, but admittedly that had been the best part. “Yeah. Tons of fun.”

Rafe laughed as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against your lips. The biggest part of you loved it, still cherished every opportunity to be affectionate with Rafe, to feel any part of him, to be close to him. But a small part of you wished he wouldn’t do things like this anymore because all it did was confuse feelings and make things complicated all over again. You didn’t like the way your heart fluttered in your chest as your ex boyfriend kissed you in the darkness of his truck.

When he pulled away, he looked at you like he could tell what you were thinking about. He looked almost apologetic, although he didn’t regret it. He never regretted the things you did together.

“I’ll see you this weekend,” you told him, knowing it’s Rafe’s weekend with your daughter.

He nodded. “I’ll be here. Do you want me to carry her inside?”

You thought about it. You didn’t want to inconvenience him, but that carrier was heavy as hell now that she had grown so much. “Yeah, that would be good.”

Rafe hopped out of the truck without a complaint, reaching into the backseat to unlock her carrier and lift it from the car seat base. He followed you to the door as you let the three of you inside.

JJ was gone, spending Thanksgiving with the pogues. You had planned to go, too, before Rafe asked you about spending the holiday with his family. You felt a little bad that you didn’t get to spend it with your twin brother, but you knew he understood and probably didn’t even care.

Rafe carefully unbuckled his sleeping daughter from her seat. She snuggled into his chest and he rested his large hand on her back, rocking her gently so she’d stay asleep. You trailed after him as he walked to the nursery and laid her in her crib.

Back in the hallway with Iris’ bedroom door closed, you both stood there awkwardly for a minute.

“JJ probably isn’t coming back tonight,” you blurted out, not even sure why you said it.

But Rafe’s face lit up, eyes shining with mischief. “Yeah? You’re alone for the night?”

You blushed, looking down at your feet to work up the courage for what you say next. “I don’t have to spend it alone.”

Rafe’s smirk only grew as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as you giggled. His lips came down to press against yours again, and you didn’t care about your relationship status, or whether you belonged together, or how much you loved him despite telling yourself you didn’t. All that mattered was that he was here now, and he was yours for the night.

You were thankful for that, at least.

[stoopidpigeonxx]

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑶 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒎𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏. ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆ (PT. 2)

OKOKOK I MADE THE PART TWO PLS STOP YELLING AT MEEEE

NSFW under the cut. MDNI.

Characters/fandoms: Captain Curly, Mouthwashing Content warnings: Smut, obvi, p in v whatt, curly being a SLOPPYYYYY eater, praise (from you and him), boobs, tits even, curly being 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, alot of dirty talking, etc. Our boy curlys a bit of perv.

-Manners? What manners?

Curly is a, what do you kids call it... a munch? Yes. If he goes down on you, and he most likely will, he will be SLOPPY with it. I'm talking drooling all over your cunt, licking it from top to bottom, shaking his head side to side and pressing wet kisses to your clit. It's ironic, really, since he's so polite in and out of bed, but he doesn't really care about a mess if it means pleasuring you. What's a little mess? Sheets can be washed.

"Sorry *kiss* about the mess, sweetheart.. *kiss* can't *kiss* help myself."

-Beautiful tits. And rack. Love it.

When asked the question 'ass, tits or thighs,' he's gonna pick tits. He's a titty guy. Sure, your ass and thighs are nice too, and he gives them an equal amount of love, but nothing can beat the feeling of shoving his face into your boobs when he's thrusting in and out of you. It has something to do with hearing your heartbeat and how fast it is, but mostly he just likes suffocating between your twins. And if he's particularly stressed, he'll just set you on his desk and lift your shirt up and go to town. Sucking, squeezing, rubbing, all that. His favorite stress balls. And god forbid the day you get nipple piercings... He's mindlessly playing with the metal with his teeth, enjoying the feeling of the cold brass on his tongue. You'll have to wear bandaids. (which he'll apply, apologizing profusely.)

-Praise me for sin.

Call this man a good boy and he's whining and shaking. It goes both ways with him. He loves getting praised, and he loves praising. A few of his favorites.. "You're doing such a good job." "Look at you, taking everything like a champ." "God, you're gorgeous." "Good girl." "You're so pretty, baby.." "Atta-fuckin-girl." He knows you fold every time for that kind of talk, so he makes sure to say at least one while you're getting naughty. On the other hand, some of his favorites to hear.. "That's a good boy." "Thank you." (Manners.) "I love you so much." "You're too good." "Fuck, that's good." Hearing how good of a job he's doing is only fuel for him to keep going, and gets him hard as a rock. So, use that mouth. (Unless its occupied, wink wink.)

-He babbles when he comes.

When he's right on that edge, he goes a bit dumb. You feel so warm and good, and he's so fucking close, and his brain just loses all ability to form coherent thoughts. So he just mumbles whatever comes out of his mouth in that adorable whiny subby voice. (You know the one.) "Fuuuuck too good too good too good.. baby.. g'na make me come, coming, coming." Or just a chorus of 'yes' over and over. Its really cute because he tries to be quiet with it, but his brain is so broken that he can't control his volume too well. He has to shove his face into your shoulder or a pillow to muffle himself so the crew doesn't overhear.

-Can't stop, won't stop.

Will not give up until you come, no matter how sore his cock is or how cramped his legs are. He wants you to come as many times as possible before the night is over, and he's willing to overwork himself to achieve that. You've told him its okay, but he doesn't really care. Feeling you clench around him and ride out your orgasm is the best thing he's ever felt, so he's gonna have you coming at least 3 times each session. Unless, of course, you're begging him to stop since its too much. He'd never want to hurt you. He'd pull out and lay with you for a while and let your body calm down before starting up again. "Take it easy, angel. I'm right here. It's okay, you're doing so well." (Why does his dirty talk sound like him coaching you through birth?? 😭)

[ari-sa]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

roommate!geto x reader. part two

cw: mdni. suggestive, masturbation, a little bit of choking?, oral (m!receiving)

a/n: got a little carried away here so it’s kind of long, also this is only my second time writing so I’m sorry if it’s bad!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

roommate!geto who lays in your lap as you run your nails thru his long hair, pretending to be asleep so you won't get up~

roommate!geto who catches you staring at him after he’s walked out the shower with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, beads of water clinging to his body. “like what you see princess?”

roommate!geto who listens to you vent every time you and one of your situationships don't work out "you deserve so much better baby" he says as he pulls you into a hug, planting kiss on your forehead >,<

roommate!geto who becomes more touchy since you started going out on dates again-

randomly cupping your face with one hand and squeezing it gently to make you pout mid conversation;

hugging you from behind while you cook to 'thank' you for making breakfast. "thanks for always cooking for me doll" he says as he wraps his arms around you, feeling his bare chest press against your back~

roommate!geto who when you're bored you go to his room to hang out with, but end up falling asleep on his bed-

roommate!geto who's mesmerized by your sleeping figure and doesn't have the heart to wake you up when he wants to sleep so he ends up climbing into bed with you.

suguru is hyper aware of EVERYTHING. how your hair smells, how soft your legs feel, the fact you aren’t wearing a bra- it all he can think about all night.

in the early hours of the morning when he absolutely cannot deal with his morning hard on anymore he goes to get up, but you grab his wrist, "sugu don't go" you whisper, dragging him back to bed~

roommate!geto who makes you getting ready cocktails <3

roommate!geto who you 'platonically' ask to practice kissing, because you haven't kissed anyone in a while and you don't want to disappoint this 'guy that you really like'-

roommate!geto who actually kisses you <3

as the cold metal of his piercings brushes against your lips, you lean deeper into him. his hand snakes up to wrap around your neck and you feel a wet patch forming in your underwear.

as the kiss turns into a full blown make out session, he notices you squeezing your thighs together- his hands move to cup your face and he swipes his tongue over your lips willing you to part them further. your hands begin roam, while his tangle in your freshly curled hair. instinctively you cup his erection through his pants. he let’s out a moan- almost a whimper.

he needs you so bad. he thinks about how good your lips would feel wrapped around his cock. how cute you’d look all messy and drooling over his length, batting your eyelashes up at him. he’d scoop all your hair up and push your head down further onto his erection. watching your makeup you spent so long on get more and more messed up eventually cumming undone in the back of your throat~

the kiss is languid, feverish and messy, but ends when the door bell rings and your date is here.

he watches you get up from the couch, tugging from at the hem of your dress, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and attempting to smooth your messed up hair.

“have fun baby” he says with a smirk as you slip on your shoes~

roommate!geto who actually dies inside when you actually start dating this guy you met on tinder.

roommate!geto who just lets out a scoff when you open your birthday present from your boyfriend and it's a gold necklace- you ony wear silver.

"here princess," he says as he hands you a small jewelry box with a little bow on it. opening it to find a silver necklace~

"thank you sugu i love it!" you say leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. he doesn't miss the way your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your reaction.

roommate!geto who “borrows” your dirty panties when you’re not home~

laying in your bed, he wraps a lacy thong around his cock, slowly fucking his fist, thinking about how much better he is than your asshole boyfriend.

roommate!geto who cums in your panties and then puts them back in your laundry basket- who would ever notice?

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

a/n: sorry it took so long to get this out haha, I was kinda scared to post it 😭

Im super open to feedback so please lmk if I should’ve done anything differently

I have part 3 almost ready, but it’s gonna be more of a drabble/one shot format!

[amazinglyashy]

hiii I’d like to make a request for LADS🙏

scenarios for the boys (specifically the original 3) when you meet and you’re already dating someone (maybe eventually you leave them for one of the boys). like. i can imagine raf and xav having a hard time keeping their cool about it and perhaps zayne acting the way he did in neon night since he doesn’t remember but fjdjsksm

You actually sent this a day before I got Neon Night, so I was able to reference it in real time and not look up the card on YT or anything, I'm so happy-- This was actually super fun, thank you so much for the request!! I hope you enjoy <3 (I'm gonna warn you tho, I made it a bit angsty--)

LaDS men when you're already dating someone [for now-]

Rafayel -

Rafayel is... upset.

to say the least.

He'll act rude and obnoxious to whoever it is you're dating at the time, to an uncharacteristically high level of sass and snippy comments. You have to try and ask him what's gotten into him, but he won't answer you.

Further meetings will go just as smoothly, so your current partner will just chalk up to you having an oddly rude friend.

He'll say something that comes across as weird to you at some point- a biting comment during a completely unrelated argument about how he waited so long for you, searching high and low for any trace of you returning again, and you didn't even have the courtesy to wait for him.

He'll leave angry, but he'll stand in the hallway regretting it, because he knows. He knows you don't remember him, and he can't keep faulting you for that. But damn-

It hurts.

It hurts to know that he did everything he could to find you, to protect you- to keep you safe until he could see you again. Talk to you again. Love you again.

But here you were.

Just out of reach again.

Xavier -

You're trying to handle a toddler now, not a grown man.

He's so upset, it's borderline ridiculous.

It's like any comment or conversation starter your current partner tries to toss at Xavier, it doesn't even make it out of the hangar before it's shot down.

Any attempts you make to be friendly with him are also met with snippy remarks.

He did not travel as far as he did, do every single hard thing he had up until this point- just to lose to some average every-day person who was currently enjoying holding your hand.

His jealously is through the roof.

His pouting face is actually pretty cute, though, so there's that.

After sulking for a long time, he'll start inviting you places more frequently, under the guise of wanting to hang out more as coworkers.

His actual motives are trying to make you see just how good of a partner he could be for you.

Yes he's trying to steal you out from under your current partner's feet.

Is it working...?

Sylus -

He's not surprised.

He's also not threatened.

What, was Sylus supposed to suspect that someone with no recollection of him or your previous time knowing each other would hold out for him, until you met again?

He tries his best to be a rational man, as there would be no rationality in getting upset at you for something you have no knowledge of.

He's hurt, but he also has a mild sense of confidence coating his doubts and pain.

He knows you'll come around to him eventually- it's everything that fate had destined, he'll muse jokingly to himself.

Still, he can't help a little doubt itching in his subconscious. He doesn't have any way of outwardly handling it, though.

He isn't the type to flaunt what he has in front of other people in order to appear better. It's gaudy to him, and shows just how little someone actually is worth if they're so desperate to put themselves above another through a dollar amount.

Treats your current partner with the same level of respect he does towards you, and shows them similar levels of care.

They make you happy, and he doesn't want that ever taken from you.

No matter how badly he wants you all to himself.

Zayne -

If it bothers him, you would never be able to tell.

Always the epitome of kindness and civility no matter who he's dealing with as long as they aren't unkind to those who matter to him- namely you- the person you're dating is treated no differently.

That is, as long as they're treating you properly.

He's no overprotective psychopath, but he does have his own concerns given some of the patients he has treated in the past. As long as certain basic criteria are met, he doesn't see any issue with it.

Still he's... a bit sad.

He blames himself wholeheartedly, for going away for so long. For leaving you alone. It's his own fault for missing his chance with you, and while somewhere deep inside of him is praying on your current partner's downfall- it's a very small portion in the back of his mind. Something dark he'll never truly humor.

He wants you to be happy, above anything else. Above personal feelings, his own wishes, anything. And if your current partner is making you happy, then that's all he could ever wish for.

Even through the sting.

He's happy as long as you are.

[thatsbelievable]

A Message From the That’s Believable Guy

The holidays are approaching, kind of like a vampire clown emerging from a cloud of mist with a horde of zombie squirrels! Well, it just so happens that I wrote a book featuring a vampire clown who emerges from a cloud of mist with a horde of zombie squirrels, and it’s called The Monstrous Adventures of Mummy Man and Waffles. It’s the story of two kids who accidentally bring a bunch of old monster movie props to life. Now they must team up with the reanimated, knuckle-headed Mummy Man (and his pet turtle, Frank) to stop an all-out creature invasion.

Written by me (Steve Behling) and illustrated by Robb Mommaerts, Mummy Man is book 1 in a new middle-grade series — yes, it’s a kids’ book, and if you like That’s Believable, then I think you’d enjoy Mummy Man, too.

I’m excited to tell you that book 2 comes out next year. And I would love nothing more than to write a book 3, 4, and on and on. But the only way that will happen is if enough people read book 1. So if I could humbly ask you to consider Mummy Man for your holiday gift giving, I would like to do so. Ordering links are below.

And I also know how tight budgets are, especially this time of year — so another option would be to ask for the book at your local library. Every little bit helps move the needle!

Thank you very much, and we now return you to our regularly scheduled nonsense.

Get Mummy Man HERE!

Get a signed copy from Books of Wonder HERE!

Search for a library near you that carries Mummy Man HERE!

[ssentimentals]

Hello! Requesting Jihoon + suggestive prompt 16! Love your writing🫶💕

aww, thank you so much for the kind words, sweetie!! and thank you of course for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

suggestive prompt: 'i only want to please you.'

'ouch! jihoon!' it comes out muffled by the pillow, so you move your head to the side, determined to make your displeasure known: 'hurts, jihoon!'

your boyfriend's face comes to the corner of your vision and he looks very unimpressed. 'i barely touched you.'

'and it already hurts!' you push stubbornly.

well, being very honest, it didn't really hurt but it was unpleasant and knowing jihoon and his focus, he's about to make knot on your back go away with very, very painful moves. in retrospective, maybe going to an actual masseur was a better idea.

'how do you want me to work on your knot without touching you?' jihoon questions, exasparated but fond. 'of course it's going to hurt, baby. i'll just try to make it hurt less.'

you sniff, turning your head more so you can have a good look on him. 'i don't trust you.'

jihoon chuckles and leans close, kissing your cheek. 'good to know. now turn your head and don't move, let me make you feel better.'

it turns to not be as bad as you expected. jihoon is clearly not a professional, but he does try his best to work on the knot between your shoulders as gently as he can, letting you have small breaks before he starts putting pressure again. uncomfortable tightness leaves gradually and you melt into the bed, sighing in relief once he finally leaves the knot alone. jihoon moves to your shoulders then, massaging them nicely and almost putting you to sleep with his actions. you stay coherent only because he starts switching between massaging and kissing.

'mhm,' you move a little, when his hands grip your waist and his lips find your neck. 'this is nice.'

jihoon hums, biting a little. 'i only want to please you.'

very slowly his hands sneak under your t-shirt, caressing naked skin with gentle care, making you sigh in satisfaction. 'is that so?' you question, moving your head to the side.

instead of answering, jihoon trails his kisses lower. his warm hands grip your sides and he signals you to turn around, which you do with an annoyed grunt. amused at your antics, jihoon leans in, kissing you sweetly. 'don't grunt. i said i only want to please you.'

'so what you want me to do then?' you ask, closing your eyes as he moves to sit on top of you.

jihoon grins. 'enjoy, love.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[hannieehaee]

What do you think about svt members dating a autistic/neuro divergent s/o ?? (Don't havets do all members but maybe woozi hannie and cheol? Tysm I literally love your writing ❤️🎀🍓)

dating a neurodivergent s/o

content: non-specific neurodivergence, established relationship, fluff, etc.

wc: 758

a/n: thank u so much<33 i discussed this with two of my besties on the spectrum, so i hope i did this justice!! neurodivergence is very broad so i kept this a little ambiguous btw<3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's kind of used to being babied by his family, but he'll flip the script and baby you instead. super nice and understanding, engaging in any of your interests and always encouraging you. he'd literally move hell and earth to ensure your comfort at all times.

jeonghan -

very sweet and loving. he has this personality where he babies everyone around him, and i think he'd use his kindergarten teacher voice a little extra on his s/o. gets familiar with any habits you may have and engages in them wholeheartedly. steals any fidget toys you may have bc he must touch at any and every object in his vicinity.

joshua -

he'll learn everything there is to learn in order to support and love you in the way you most deserve! he's very emotionally intelligent and empathetic, so he'll often just kinda sit there and listen to you rant about whichever special interest you had at the time, even taking some of his free time to learn about it on his own.

jun -

cutie is the sweetest boyfriend alive, falling into any habits or behaviors of yours without even realizing. he's super touchy but if you're not into that he'd just settle for playing with your hands and fingers in a reassuring manner (both for himself and you). does his best to understand and relate to you in order to ensure your comfort.

soonyoung -

i picture him acting very similar to jun as a bf. he may instinctually mimic some of your behaviors or habits without realizing. if you have trouble focusing or maybe any compulsive behaviors, he'd somehow match those behaviors just from how much time he spent with you.

wonwoo -

he's literally the perfect boyfriend in every capacity so i think he'd assimilate to you and your needs without even thinking about it. makes himself fit into your life perfectly and provides you all comfort possible. does his best to understand every aspect of your life and has very open communication with you.

jihoon -

he has a ton of little fidget toys in his studio ready for you to play with. if you have any sensory issues, he'd also have some amazing quality noise cancelling headphones in his studio for you to use, anddd he would also make sure to turn off the lights at the universe factory if they ever bothered you. you'd never have any issue with him changing his lifestyle to fit your needs, he'd just do it w/o question.

seokmin -

he's such a sweet and empathetic guy, he'd be thoroughly educated on whichever part of the spectrum you were in. he'd remind you to take any medications (if needed), cook you your safe foods, keep you out of social situations if you felt like going nonverbal, keep things tidy at home to keep you at ease. he'd basically do anything in his power without you even having to ask.

mingyu -

he's a househusband at heart so he's basically just prepared to mother the hell out of you at all times. takes care of all your needs and keeps track of them at his own accord. needs an open line of communication with you to understand your needs and preferences and adapts his life to fit them.

minghao -

he's so insanely emotionally mature i think he'd utilize his amazing communication skills to make sure he's doing everything he can as a bf to make you feel comfortable and at ease with him. entertains and encourages any of your habits and needs. researches anything necessary to understand you as best as he can.

seungkwan -

if u ever go nonverbal or lose your social battery, he'll take complete charge of it, so dont u even worry!!! he loved and respects you more than anyone, so he does his best to adapt to any habits or necessities you may have. the best person at lending a sympathetic ear when you let him know of your needs.

vernon -

very understanding and subtle with his affections. he's the opposite of overwhelming, so he never pressures you and tries to make you as comfortable as possible, doing his best to understand your habits and levels of comfort in order to assimilate to you and ensure your happiness in the relationship.

chan -

he'll match your energy always. if your social battery is gone, so is his! if you feel a little extra energetic, guess what, so does he! wants you to communicate what he can do to ensure your comfort or to be the best bf he can be.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hey big fan of your work! I was wondering if you could write about Donna killing a trespasser in front of reader, she becomes really worried that this has upset reader/reader will see her as a monster but it actually really turns the reader on (powerful/protective lady moment ahh), maybe smut if you can! No GP <3

Yess!!! Thank you for your request and your kind words!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Powerful enough

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Slightly dark themes, smut at the end, Minors DNI, mentions of violence and murder, Donna being Donna, fluff

Word count: 8,404

Summary: Can she really protect you?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“I don't know what I'm doing here, I should be making my dolls,” Donna murmured, letting you take her hand, despite her reluctance.

Opposites attract or so they said. Nonsense, attracted was a too insignificant verb to describe your relationship. In the two years you had been in that isolated house, you had felt many things similar to pure attraction, but with an intensity that made that word not enough.

Still, convincing Donna to leave her house, even for an innocent and invigorating walking around the grounds, was quite a feat.

“You spend all day with your dolls, I think a quiet walk with your girlfriend won’t hurt you, right?” you said amused, giving her repeated kisses on the cheek, to which the brunette protested with a playful movement of her hands.

“Ugh,” she groaned; her grumpy attitude at an all-time high.

A pity that those tender protests were one of the things you adored about Lady Beneviento.

“Going out is fun!” Angie shouted, who seemed much happier with that excursion than her owner.

“Look, Angie is happy,” you commented, blinking petulantly, leaning towards the lady’s shoulder. “Donna, stop being so grumpy, will you?”

“I'm not grumpy, tesoro,” she protested, sighing and looking around. “I just feel helpless to your requests.”

“That's because you love me,” you hissed with a mocking smile, clinging to her affectionately. “Or well, maybe I have some mental powers too.”

“Maybe, you're the most stubborn girl I've ever seen,” Donna teased, stealing a quick kiss on your lips and making your cheeks blush. “What's your goal with this?”

“My goal?” you asked confused. “Well… it doesn't have a goal. It’s just to spend the time and…”

“Spend the time,” the brunette repeated, looking around. “It's terribly cold, (Y/N).”

“You're such a whiner, darling, but don't worry, I'm used to it,” you said with a tone impregnated with malice, but without really being an acid comment. “Let's talk about something.”

“Mm? What do you want to talk about? It's cold,” she said, frowning, uncomfortable since, once again, you managed to convince her not to wear her veil.

After all, she didn't need it, it was still her land. No one dared to go beyond the wooden door, much less the bridge.

It took you a while to convince her to lose her fear of letting the breeze caress her beauty, but over time you had become a true master of conviction. Well, it could be that or that Donna was simply madly in love with you. Either option seemed valid to you.

“Let's see, let's see...” you whispered thoughtfully, looking up at the snowy trees that guarded the Lord’s territory like silent guardians, like a reminder that you were, in some way, safe. “Oh, yes, I've already finished the book you gave me.”

“You read fast,” Donna murmured, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, resuming her steps, perhaps more calmly than before.

“You know I love adventures,” you said, sighing romantically, finally managing to walk at the same time as her, holding on to her hand, as if you didn't want to let her go. “Hey, let’s go that way,” you said, deviating slightly from the path towards one of the dilapidated cabins.

“That way? Why do you want to go that way?” the lady asked, letting your hand go and tilting her head as she looked at the cabins. “(Y/N), it’s dangerous, something could collapse and…”

“How old are those cabins?” you asked, making your way through the undergrowth surrounding what was once surely a beautiful metal structure, full of flowers.

“Oh, um…” she replied, watching your clumsy steps through the weeds. “Those cabins were here before my family built the house.”

“Interesting,” you commented, nodding slowly and looking for the best place to cross that kind of protection time granted to that place. “Well, if they haven’t collapsed in all this time, I doubt they will now, right?”

“You are definitely stubborn,” the lady whispered, leading you by the arm along a safer path to one of the cabins. “There, a ruined cabin just for you.”

“Great,” you sighed, rubbing your hands together, but showing no sign of imminent freezing.

“Be careful, (Y/N),” Donna whispered as you explored, the thirst for adventure running through your veins.

“Yes, yes…” you said, rolling your eyes and glancing around that desolate cabin. “Who lived here?”

“Josef, the gardener,” the lady said, answering your question in a somewhat hasty way. “He always worked for my family, he even took care of me after…” she whispered, stopping right at the end of the sentence, not wanting to remember all the tragedies she had to live through.

“Donna, calm down,” you said, cupping her face in your hands before an inevitable crisis clouded that wonderful day. “You don't have to tell me, come on, breathe…” you said, doing relaxation exercises you already knew and that luckily, also calmed the inevitable madness of the lady in black.

“I-I'm sorry,” she stammered, regaining her calm gaze and sketching a shy smile. “I've gotten a little nervous.”

“I know, it's okay,” you said, kissing her slowly on the lips, thus finishing to calm her tormented mind. “Come, Angie, let's explore,” you said to the doll, who followed you immediately.

You and Angie walked through that ruined cabin, finding just old books, typewriters destroyed by time and gardening tools, but, nothing interesting, unfortunately.

You were about to give up, to recognize the cold you were going through and tell your girlfriend you wanted to go home, when you noticed an old shed on the side of the cabin.

“Well, well, Donna, come, look at this,” you said as you and Angie peered over a fallen piece of wood that spanned the shed. “Wait a minute…” you sighed, pulling the obstacle and letting it fall into the snow.

“Be more careful, silly!” Angie protested, as she was almost crushed.

“Oops, sorry,” you said with a worried face, enduring the blows of the doll on your shins. “Look at this…”

“Mm,” the lady murmured, frowning and looking into the shed.

Inside the old structure was a sort of miniature of a house with a too convenient path leading down, as if something had to go there. Beneath the model, there were some tightly closed bars, and inside there was a golden glow that immediately caught your attention.

“What’s this?” you asked, studying that miniature house. “Look, it moves,” you said surprised, realizing that you could move the model at will.

“Oh, it's one of the four labyrinths of Norshteyn,” the brunette explained, with disinterest.

“Who?” you asked, scratching your head and looking curiously at the lady. “A labyrinth?”

“Mm,” she murmured in response, approaching the model with a serious look. “In the 19th century, a craftsman named Norshteyn came to the village. They said he was considered a heretic in his country.

You nodded, blinking in curiosity.

“A craftsman?” you asked, running your fingers over that house. “Wow, he was good.”

“It is said that he made them due to the hospitality in the village. He built four labyrinths for each of the noble families of the place, labyrinths that could contain whatever they wanted,” Donna explained, passing her hand next to yours. “The families deposited some of their treasures inside the labyrinth, hoping that no thief could get them.”

“Oh,” you said attentively, trying to open the gate, something impossible. “He certainly did a good job, this is impossible to open.”

“You can pull as hard as you want, tesoro,” she said, amused by your fruitless attempts. “Karl, Alcina and Salvatore have one model too.”

“Of course... the four families, four Lords, it makes sense,” you said amused, studying the mechanism. “Surely he felt satisfied with his job.”

“Not exactly,” the lady corrected, getting closer to your ear. “When he finished the last of them, he blew off his head.”

“Um, what?” you said, scared by the sinister voice that Donna mastered perfectly. “Why?”

“Nobody knows, it is said that he had four wives, and they all died. He couldn't handle the guilt and…” she whispered in a mysterious tone. “There are many stories about him, but the legend said that he sold his soul to the devil to rescue those of the four loves of his life, paying a very high price.”

“A-A price…” you stammered, letting yourself be carried away by that slightly terrifying atmosphere. “Which one?”

“His own life,” she said, with an increasingly sinister tone, surrounding you by the waist from behind, making you swallow. “There are people who say that those souls… live in these labyrinths… the souls in pain of his wives, desperately searching for their lover, for all eternity.”

“Boo!” Angie screamed, coming out from behind the model and making you almost jump into Donna's arms, taking refuge behind her.

“Yiah!” you screamed, your heart beating very hard while the doll laughed, as did her owner. “Donna…”

“What's wrong, tesoro? Did we scare you?” she asked, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to her in a playful way, kissing you quickly.

“Yes…” you reluctantly admitted, crossing your arms, but returning the kisses while the doll laughed satisfied. “Donna, you give me the creeps.”

“It must be the cold,” Donna joked, kissing you for the last time and releasing you from her grip while you, pathetically, tried to regain your composure. “Anyway, you won't be able to open it just like that, it needs a key.”

“A key,” you commented, shaking your dress and squinting at the doll, who was still laughing at the scare she gave you. “What key? Do you have it?”

“I don’t,” she said, arranging your clothes lovingly, rubbing your arms. “It's not just any key, it's a kind of ball that you have to roll along the rails to get it into this hole here, see?” she pointed to a small round hole at the end of the model, and you nodded curiously.

“A ball... I see, well, we'll have to look for it, right?” you said, catching your breath and searching around the model. “You don't know where it is? It belonged to your family, didn't it?”

“Yes, but it's probably lost,” the lady commented, sighing with a victorious smile. “Don't bother looking for it, my grandfather tried several times and didn't find it.”

“Well, maybe I can,” you said enthusiastically. “It could be a good adventure, right? The search for a treasure…”

“(Y/N), let's go home, you're just wasting time,” she said, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Killjoy,” you hissed discreetly. “Come on, Donna, it has to be somewhere…”

“No, besides, it's getting dark, we should go back now,” the lady insisted, crossing her arms.

The cold was already unbearable, and, although you hated to agree with your girlfriend, that time she was right.

“Ugh, okay,” you sighed with a childish grimace. “But I plan to find that key,” you said, raising a finger and letting Donna slide her hand around your waist, guiding you on the way home.

“Mm, I didn't know you were interested in treasure hunts,” she commented with a tender smile.

“Well,” you said in a passive tone. “I've read a lot of similar stories, but I still prefer novels about knights, you know: damsels in distress, dragons…”

Donna laughed, shaking her head and pulling you a little closer to her.

“They are my absolute weakness,” you murmured, fantasizing about your favorite stories. “Especially the part where the brave knight kills the dragon and saves the girl. It must be very romantic.”

“Dragons don't exist,” Donna said in a serious tone, showing you her poor conversational skills, taking everything you said totally seriously.

“Tell your sister,” you said amused, making her shake her head. “The feeling of being saved by a strong and brave knight… it must be great, right?”

“Mm,” she murmured, kissing your hair, not paying too much attention to your fanciful words.

“You know, oh my dear knight, I'm so weak I think I'm going to faint…” you said in a dramatic tone, pulling away and putting a hand on your forehead before doing something stupid, before letting yourself fall to the ground, hoping that she would pick you up in her arms, something that, of course, didn't happen.

“Ouch!” you screamed as you fell to the snowy ground with a thud, glaring angrily at your girlfriend.

“What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?”  the lady said, clumsily helping you up as Angie laughed out loud again. “(Y/N)…”

“Ugh, you were supposed to pick me up,” you whispered, letting yourself be helped and checking to see if you had hurt yourself. “Donna… you didn't save your damsel in distress.”

“Damsel in distress? Cavolo, (Y/N), how do you expect me to know that you were going to let yourself fall?” she protested, checking your condition as well. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I'm fine,” you growled with a childish gesture, pushing the brunette's hands away. “And you, stop laughing,” you said to Angie, who was writhing on the floor.

“You are so silly, silly, silly,” the doll mocked, pointing at you with her finger. “You amuse me.”

“Fine,” you hissed, rubbing your back and noticing an even more penetrating cold. “Brr, I'm going to catch a cold.”

“Don't worry, tesoro, let's go home and take a hot bath, do you fancy it?” Donna suggested with a warm smile, kissing you as an apology.

“Yeah, sounds great,” you said, relaxing your expression and your posture.

 A hot bath next to the woman you loved was certainly a good plan. Your naked bodies warmed in the water as you intertwined in a comfortable, relaxing silence.

With your head on her chest and her arms around your waist, you continued to fantasize, making your mind travel through stories and memories, memories of how you got to where you were, why you were there, next to her.

You were a simple villager in a not so simple village. The Black Gods, the Lords, Mother Miranda… These were things that made the place very different from any other. You knew it, but you didn't give it any importance, at least until you realized what it meant to have all these entities around you.

You were eight years old, you were a little and dreamer girl like any of your friends, running errands for your parents, praying and having fun. One night, when you had to give some tools to your uncle, while you were walking in the dark through the poorly lit streets, you got a scare that would change your life forever.

Miserable rat or idiot, you didn't know how to describe the man who attacked you from the shadows, demanding, under threats, that you give him all your money. You were a child, you were scared and defenseless.

You had never been so afraid, the knife the robber carried shone in the moonlight and you closed your eyes as you cried in terror. It could have been your end, or, at best, stayed in your mind as an insurmountable trauma, but it wasn't.

You never really believed in miracles, that your devotion to dark deities served any purpose, but that night, yes, that night you witnessed your mistake. Just when you gave up, cornered and with your bag of coins already at the mercy of the attacker, some blades shone next to the knife, abruptly pushing that man away from you.

A local hero? A divine intervention? No, a Lord.

The lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu, finished off that robber. She didn't say anything; she simply looked at you, smiled at you and took what was left of that evil man.

Then your vision of the village changed completely. Everyone, your family, your friends, everyone feared the Lords. They saw them as a constant threat. Mother Miranda always insisted that she, as well as the four nobles, protected the village. You didn't believe it before, but you started to.

The rejection and fear that those four shadows caused you silently mutated into an admiration that became increasingly sick. The priestess was right, they protected you. They were in charge of keeping the village at peace, of freeing you from possible threats. It was impossible for you not to believe it, you had lived it.

Stopping seeing the four Lords as a threat to see them as a shield unleashed many thoughts, you even dared to write letters to the lady of the castle, thanking her for her intervention. They could be childish things, but time passed, and your devotion to the four shadows of the village didn’t diminish.

They were your saviors, your protectors, and it almost seemed like you were the only one who saw them that way. Each and every one of them had extraordinary powers, capable of chasing away anyone who dared to poke their nose into the village's affairs, or harm you. They didn't care if you were rich, poor, or who you were; to them, all of your lives were worthy of protection.

Your devotion to these protectors surpassed even rationality, fervently wishing to meet them, admire them, have a moment to talk to them, to thank them for everything they did. Already 20 years old and with a bold and extroverted character, that goal was closer than ever.

What you never imagined was falling in love with one of them, one that you saw off guard to attack with your questions and sick adoration, the lady in black, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

The woman in mourning, always silent and mysterious, unwittingly put herself at the mercy of your approach, at the mercy of your exaggerated words of admiration. As much as the Angie doll protested, the lady didn’t move; she simply listened to you.

Thus, with time, you came to see the beauty she hid, to hear her melodic voice speaking to you, incredulous, surprised because you, unlike the others, didn’t fear her. Love arose soon after, and without wanting to, you ended up completely in love with the lady in black, just as her with you.

Maybe she couldn't transform into a dragon, or control metal, but those trifles ceased to be important to you the moment your lips touched hers. Power and strength stopped being your fixation, Donna began to be.

Two years later, your relationship was perfect, harmonious. The fact that she was a Lord, that somehow you felt safe was something you didn't usually think about.

Donna was a strange woman, hurt by a madness no one could remedy, but she was much more than that, much more than the monster everyone talked about. You weren't exaggerating if you said that she was the love of your life.

Your body enjoyed the warmth of the water, the touch against hers, that vaporized silence filling your mind with dreams and memories. As you moved to let her lips kiss your neck, you felt a slight pain in your back, probably due to the fall.

That pain made you grimace in disgust, but it also made your mind move away from the pure love you felt for Donna, asking yourself a series of questions you had never gotten an answer to.

“Mm, Donna,” you sighed, playing with her hand under the water, breaking the calm, but speaking with a velvety, romantic tone. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure, tesoro,” she whispered, kissing your ear and leaving her kisses for another time, giving you all her attention.

“Hey, who do you think is the most powerful of your siblings?” you asked distractedly, looking at the ceiling as you moved in the water.

“The most powerful?” Donna asked back, with a thoughtful sigh. “Honestly, I wouldn't know how to answer your question,” she sighed shortly after, looking at you out of the corner of your eye. “Why do you want to know?”

“Oh, curiosity,” you said shrugging, lying back on top of her body. “Well, Alcina can transform into a dragon…”

“It's not exactly a dragon, it's a…” the lady interrupted.

“Yes, yes, a mutation, or whatever. Dragon sounds much better than a mutation of a disgusting mold, doesn't it?” you joked, shaking your head.

She laughed too wrapping her arms around your waist, keeping you closer to her, if that was even possible.

“Let's see, Heisenberg can control metal, Moreau is a huge disgusting fish…” you murmured, counting on your fingers. “Honestly, I ask you because I couldn't tell you which one of them is more powerful.”

“Hey, tesoro, aren't you forgetting something?” she said in a mocking tone, frowning and moving your head so you would look at her.

“Mm? Oh, of course you're there too, but you're no use to me for this,” you said without thinking, causing the water to move along with her body, abruptly.

“Why not?” the lady asked with an inquisitive expression.

You rolled your eyes, turning around to face her.

“Donna, honey, you can't transform,” you said softly, calmly caressing her cheek due to her annoyed look. “I'm talking about real powers.”

“I have real powers, I'm as strong as them, even more,” Donna protested, crossing her arms, with a marked accent that betrayed her anger.

“Yes, yes... you make people hallucinate, but, my love, it's not like you're the strongest woman in the world,” you said jokingly, perhaps without too much care.

“Playing with people's minds isn't enough power? I'm telling you I'm as strong as them,” she insisted nervously, to which you caressed her face amused, biting your lip while your hand traveled along the skin of her arm, pinching it mercilessly. “Cazzo! Cosa diavolo stai facendo!?”

“You see, my love? You control minds, yes, but your body is weak, isn't it?” you mocked while she looked at you with resentment, rubbing her injured arm.

“You say I'm weak?” she asked in a brusque tone, terribly offended. “You think so?”

“No, look, Donna, you know that I love you very much, but maybe you wouldn't be the right one to face an imminent danger, right?”

“I'm stronger than you think!” she said, shouting in a very loud voice, making you back up in the tub.

“Okay, then prove it to me, make me hallucinate,” you challenged your girlfriend, approaching her in the water, suggestively crawling up to her body.

“No,” she answered coldly, putting a hand on your bare chest. “I'm not going to do it.”

“Aren’t you? Come on, say that I'm wrong,” you joked, making a gesture with your hand. “I want to see how powerful my girlfriend is.”

“No, (Y/N), I'm not going to hurt you,” she said, shaking her head and hastily going out the tub. “My powers are not a game, (Y/N). I don't care if you think they're useless.”

“Hey, I didn't say that,” you said, reaching out your hand to take hers while she picked up a towel, covering herself with it. “Donna, don't be mad, come here so I can apologize.”

“I have to make dinner,” she said, leaving the bathroom and you, in the bathtub, sighed regretfully.

“But what did I say?” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck and shrugging. “Oh, I must learn to keep my mouth shut…”

Luckily, the tension you caused dissipated over time and the day could end as usual. You had absolutely nothing against the lady, you didn't doubt her powers, in fact, you knew that, whatever she did, no one had dared to enter her property for years, apart from you, of course.

Okay, maybe the lady in black wasn't the strong and invincible Lord you admired, but that wasn't a reason to stop loving her. Strength was not your main goal, especially when you were able to truly meet Donna, when you saw her deformed but amazing beauty, when her whispers, her caresses, made all the hair on your body stand up.

You didn't bring up the subject again, and the next day started like any other, except that, that morning, you woke up with only one goal. You still had that sinister story of the labyrinths in your head, and you dedicated your always lonely morning to looking for some information around the house.

Your thirst for adventure was insatiable, even wandering alone through the halls of the mansion was an epic feat for you. Donna never minded you rummaging through her stuff, through her memories, as long as you did it with respect. And so you did, dusting off old books you barely understood.

While you were searching, you came across an old notebook that caught your attention, especially because of what was written in it: Fabrizio Beneviento (1878).

It looked like an old diary; a notebook as old as time, with its yellowed, delicate pages that seemed to want to fall apart among your fingers. Logically, it was the property of an ancestor of the lady in black, and the date coincided with the creation of the labyrinths. Your favorite novels were those about knights, but you didn't dislike detective stories at all.

“Oh, I have to ask Donna to teach me Italian, I don't understand anything,” you said with a confused grimace, trying to decipher what those old pages said.

After looking at those incomprehensible sentences in bewilderment, you finally found something, a name that you expected to read: Norshteyn.

“Bingo,” you said satisfied, marking the page and walking towards the workshop, where Donna was working, as always, on her dolls.

“Hey, silly!” Angie shouted, swinging her legs on a table while the lady worked, distracted by the shouts and shaking her head at you.

“Angie…” Donna murmured, dropping a paintbrush with a grimace of disgust. “You almost ruined my work.”

“Tell her, she interrupted you,” the doll said, pointing at you.

The lady smiled, shaking her head as you approached and gave her a quick kiss in greeting.

“Are you bored, tesoro?” she asked softly, smoothing your hair.

“No, not exactly,” you said triumphantly, holding up the notebook. “Look what I found. I think it belongs to a relative of yours… Fabrizio Beneviento.”

“Wow,” she sighed, studying the notebook. “Yes, he was my ancestor, what’s this about?”

“Look, in this part it talks about the labyrinths of that Norshteyn guy. It might say where the key is,” you said, pointing at the page. “But… I don’t understand what it says. Would my wonderful girlfriend be so kind as to translate it for me?”

Donna laughed, nodding with a slight blush on her cheek, looking down at the text.

“Let’s see…” she sighed, picking up the book. “There’s something about that man that makes me shudder, no matter how kind he was when he built that chest,” she began to read.

“I have a bad feeling about him. Maybe opening it is a bad idea, my legs shake every time I get close to that damn model. I have no way of knowing what evil powers will be unleashed if I let that key slide down the rails. I have enough problems already, it would be best to hide it, and I have the perfect place, under the tree in the nearby cabin.”

“Wow… is that what it says?” you asked expectantly.

“Uh-huh,” the lady said, turning the pages with curiosity.

“Great, great, we have to go to the cabin to look for the key,” you said excitedly, rubbing your hands. “Treasure, here I go…”

“Hey, stop, (Y/N), do you intend to go now? The sky is very dark, I fear a storm is approaching,” Donna said, closing the notebook and tilting her head.

“W-Well, then we better hurry up,” you said jumping. “Come on, Donna, let’s go…”

“Do I have to go with you?” the brunette asked, frowning and looking away at her dolls. “(Y/N), I'm working on…”

“Yes, yes… your dolls, I know,” you said looking up and putting your hands on her shoulders. “It'll just be a moment, besides we already know where it is.”

“No,” she said with a cold look, turning around and picking up the brush again.

“Donna…” you sighed disappointedly, waving your hands. “Don't be boring, come on, let's go…”

“Why don't you go by yourself?” she asked, annoyed by your insistence and the distraction you caused in her greatest passion.

“I…” you stammered, embarrassed.

No, you weren't a coward but… well, walking through that sinister forest, through that place in ruins… yes, it made you feel like a coward, but you weren't, really, you weren't…

“It's just that…” you whispered, dragging out your words. “I don't like walking alone through the forest. I'd rather you came with me, just in case.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, dropping the brush again and crossing her arms. “I repeat the question, tesoro: why do you want me to go with you? I'm weak, remember?” she said, spitting out her words, telling you she hadn't forgotten the conversation from the day before.

“Oh, come on, I didn't mean it,” you said with a growl. “I'd feel safer if you were with me, because you could protect me, right?” you said, changing your tone from pleading to a slightly defiant one.

The lady in black abruptly stood up from her chair, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“Do you doubt that I can protect you?” she hissed with a dark look, one that betrayed that you had made an annoying insinuation.

“Mm, no,” you said, looking at your nails with disinterest. “But it would be a good occasion to prove it, don’t you think? Imagine if a lycan sneaks onto the grounds, or if I trip and fall and…”

“Ugh, basta. Va bene, va bene…” the doll maker growled, kicking the ground in a childish manner. “I’ll accompany you so you shut that big mouth, but not now, I’m busy. We’ll go this afternoon.”

“Mm, Donna,” you said with a triumphant smile, throwing yourself into her arms. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Lasciami, you always do whatever you want with me, tesoro,” she said with an amused smile, fighting against your tireless kisses.

“You're the best,” you whispered, giving her one last kiss on the cheek. “I'll leave you alone,” you said with a sweet voice walking out of the workshop.

“Finally!” the doll squealed.

“Angie…”

The adventure would have to wait, but only for a few hours. Donna kept her promise, walking with you through the forest again. The lady was right, the impending storm could even be smelled, but that didn't matter to you.

You dug in the indicated place, finally finding your prize, a ball decorated with the crest of the Beneviento family, the key that opened that mysterious labyrinth.

“I found it, look, it's cool,” you said, walking towards the lady, who was waiting impatiently, with her arms crossed.

“Mm, it's beautiful,” she said, studying the ball curiously, running her fingers over the engraving.

“Yeah, and now... let's play labyrinths and...” you said, approaching the shed triumphantly.

“Watch out for the ghost!” Angie shouted, which, along with a terrifying thunder that shook your insides, caused you to lose your balance with a cowardly scream.

“Shit!” you yelled, causing the ball to fall to the ground.

You bent down to pick it up, but at that moment a drop of ice-cold water fell on the tip of your nose, forcing you to look up.

“Does it have to be now?” you protested angrily, looking at the model out of the corner of your eye as Donna ran beside you. “Come on.”

“Let’s go home, tesoro, before we end up soaked,” she said, dragging you back to the mansion. “(Y/N)…”

“Jeez…” you sighed in disappointment, but at that moment, another thunderclap made you jump on the ground. “Uh… okay, good idea.”

Luckily the storm didn't reach you.

“Almost,” you sighed, closing the door of the mansion, holding the ball tightly. “Don't think you've beaten me, stupid ball… wait until tomorrow,” you hissed, putting it in your pocket.

“I better get dinner ready,” Donna murmured, watching the rain that was beginning to fall without remedy, making the sunset even darker.

“Wait, wait,” you said hurriedly, running next to her. “I'll go with you, so I can keep you company.”

“Do you want to see me cook?” she asked, letting your hands hug her waist.

You blushed and nodded effusively, kissing her slowly.

“Yes, I want to compensate you for having accompanied me,” you whispered, getting closer.

“I can think of better ways to do it. But it's fine for now,” Donna purred, tugging erotically at your lower lip and pulling away in an almost painful way.

After all, it was a fun afternoon. The two of you cooked together, laughed, kissed, almost let yourself be carried away by passion... Nothing could go wrong that night, nothing.

“I'll set the table,” you said, exiting the elevator with the lady.

She smiled in response, walking beside you towards the living room.

You hummed as you placed the cutlery in its place, glancing sideways at the open door to the hall. You turned your head without noticing a detail, and did so again abruptly when you noticed something was wrong. The entrance door was banging due to the wind, it was open.

“Um, Donna, did you open the door?” you asked with a frown, getting closer to the entrance.

“No, didn't you close it?” the lady asked, carefully correcting the places of the cutlery so everything looked perfect.

“Y-Yes,” you said nervous, confused, remembering that, indeed, you closed it. “I'm completely sure that I closed it.”

“Mm, it must have been the wind,” Donna commented.

“Anyway, I'm going to close it,” you finally sighed, approaching the entrance.

Just as you crossed the door to the hall, you felt a strong grip on your body, hands that grabbed you tightly and an arm around your neck. In front of you was what looked like a dagger, a knife, shining in the light of the mansion.

“Ah!” you screamed, struggling with that strength, with that arm that surrounded you.

“Shh, quiet,” a male voice threatened in your ear. “Walk.”

He looked like a man from the village because of his clothes, but his furious breathing told you that he was dangerous. Slowly, trapped like a hostage, you returned to the living room, trying to scream, with your mouth covered by the hand with the knife.

With a strong movement of your body, you managed to free yourself from his hand, and finally, scream.

“Donna!” you screamed, drawing the attention of the lady in black, who immediately turned around, opening her eye wide when she saw the scene. “Donn…” you couldn't scream again, as the edge of the knife dug into your throat.

“Silence,” that man said, wet from the rain, roaring like a beast eager for blood. “Don't move, you weirdo,” he said to Donna, you suspected with a sinister smile.

The lady didn't move an inch. She just stared at the aggressor, without saying a single word, coldly.

“That's it, very good,” he hissed satisfied, pulling you to expose your throat even more. “Good girl.”

“Donna, please…” you whispered pleadingly when you saw your girlfriend's calm, a calm that began to make you nervous. “Donna…”

“Shh, shut up,” the man demanded, pressing the knife harder into your skin. “Cooperate and I won't do anything to you, little bird… I haven't come for you, but for her.”

“Dare to do something to my Donna's girlfriend, you bastard!” Angie threatened, immediately reassured by a fleeting glance from the lady.

“Oh, is she your girlfriend?” the attacker sang. “You have good taste, I admit it, a shame it's your last day with her.”

“Let me go!” you shrieked, trying to free yourself from the grip.

“You think you're very important, don't you? You and that gang of monsters,” the man said, ignoring your protests.

Donna raised her chin, but once again, she remained motionless.

“You've been desecrating this village with your lies and demonic blasphemies, but it's over. I won't allow it, I'll finish you off. I advise you to behave yourself, Beneviento, or else I'll hurt this beauty, what do you say? Will you let me finish you off?”

“Donna, for the Gods' sake, help me,” you said angrily, frustrated.

“You're not going to do anything to the girl,” the brunette finally said, walking a step closer to you.

“How bold for a nutcase like you,” he mocked, making you feel a stab of pain in your throat as you felt the knife graze your skin. “Don't take another step, monster, or the girl dies.”

“The girl won't die,” Donna said, getting a little closer, darkening her gaze and raising a hand towards you. “You will.”

“You wanted it…” the man hissed, suddenly loosening his grip. “What? What?!” he shrieked as he looked at his own hand.

Taking advantage of that moment, you broke free with a push, running into the arms of your beloved.

“Tutto bene, (Y/N)?” Donna asked in a whisper, holding you against her chest.

You nodded on the verge of panic, not letting the lady's body go.

“No, no…” the man murmured, scratching his skin with the knife, trying to get rid of something. “Take it off!”

“Don't look,” Donna told you, turning your head towards her clothes, holding you tightly against her as she raised her hand again.

“You can't!” he shrieked, desperate, along with a horrible sound of something breaking, it sounded like bones.

You heard something fall to the wooden floor, the knife. Curious and nervous, you shifted to observe, though you wished you hadn't.

The attacker's arm was twisted, completely out of place, surely broken.

“No, no! Don't make me do this!” he pleaded, falling to the floor on his knees, while his good hand hit it, twisting until that horrible crunch attacked your ears again. “Ah, Gods, no! Forgive me, my lady! No, please!”

“You threatened (Y/N), my family,” the lady whispered, with a tone that gave chills. “You have to pay for it.”

“No, no!” he screamed, desperate, involuntarily hitting his head against the wood. “No, take it away from me! They're going to eat my brain! No, out, out!”

“Do you want me to stop?” the lady asked, while hugging you with a sinister smile.

The man, terribly wounded, stood up fighting against invisible enemies, barely able to move, throwing a chair in front of him.

“Leave me alone, damn it! You won't take me alive!” he screamed for the last time, letting himself fall backwards, hitting his neck on the chair with a last terrible crunch, ceasing to scream, to exist.

“It's over, (Y/N),” the lady said, hugging your face while you squeezed your eyes shut tightly. “That's it, tesoro... shh...”

“D-Donna, he was going to kill me, he was going to...” you said sobbing in fear, with the lady in black controlling your tremors as best she could.

You turned your head to look at your attacker, with his neck dislocated in the chair, with a look of terror that you would dream about for several nights.

“H-He's… dead,” you murmured scared. “He's dead,” you repeated nervously, shaking your head.

“No, tesoro, don't look, look at me, come on,” Donna said, guiding your gaze away from the corpse. “(Y/N)…”

“D-Donna…” you sobbed again, breathing heavily, in shock and disobeying the lady's orders, turning your head again and growling in rage. “You son of a bitch!” you screamed, breaking free from your girlfriend's grip and walking towards the body, kicking it in a crazy way. “Bastard!”

“Hey, hey, tesoro, stop, please,” the lady said, grabbing you to get you away from the attacker, having to fight with your kicks. “Enough, it's over, he won't hurt you anymore.”

“Donna, he was going to kill me,” you cried, in a terrible panic attack, clinging to the Lord’s clothes while soaking them with your tears. “He was going to kill me…”

She sighed and kissed your head while still hugging you, rocking your body in a comforting way.

“Don't cry,” Donna whispered. “Don't cry, please…”

“He was going to kill me,” you repeated, unable to say anything else until you regained some consciousness, enough to realize what had happened. “He was going to kill me and now… now he's dead,” you gasped, opening your eyes wide and moving away from her embrace. “He's dead… You, you killed him, you killed that man,” you stammered pointing at the lady, who shook her head.

“Tesoro, I had to do it, he was going to hurt you,” she excused herself, trying to get you closer to her again, something that, due to shock and nerves, you rejected with a step back.

“Donna, you killed a person,” you repeated passing a hand over your forehead.

“I was protecting you, don't you understand? I… Oh, cazzo… Listen to me, amore mio… I didn't want to…”

“You tortured him and then you killed him, Donna,” you said nervously, shaking your head. “Gods…”

“What did you want me to do? He had a knife at your damn throat!” she shrieked, with a crazy look. “I… I-I'm, sorry, I… per favore, tesoro, don't be afraid of me. I promise I'm not a monster, please…”

“No, Donna,” you said in a calmer tone, with the panic fading from your mind and body. “I'm not afraid of you, I… Donna, my love, you saved me. Oh, Donna,” you sighed, running back to her side, hugging her tightly.

“(Y/N)…”

“Donna, my love, thank you so much, thank you for saving me,” you sobbed, burying your face in her dress. “You saved me…”

“Calm down, stop crying, (Y/N),” the lady said, putting a hand on your shoulder and looking at you closely. “Oh, you have a wound on your neck…” she sighed, staining her finger with your blood. “Come, sit down, I… will make some calls to clean this up and then I will heal you, okay? Just, just relax.”

You let yourself be guided by her and obeyed, giving one last look to the lifeless attacker, a look devoid of fear, full of hate. He got what he deserved, you were convinced.

Soon after, Heisenberg appeared to clean up the mess, and finally, with your nerves completely calm, you could breathe and think coldly about everything that had happened. You were completely wrong about Donna. She seemed the weakest of the four, but she wasn't, now you knew.

Mind control, tormenting someone to the point of forcing them to end their life, was perhaps not the physical strength and power you admired, but it was, without a doubt, the most dangerous skill. Isolated from the world around you, you fantasized about what had happened, imagining Donna as one of those knights who rescued damsels in distress, as your savior, the woman who would always protect you, always.

That childish thought at first turned into something more due to euphoria, something you weren't sure you could control.

“It's nothing serious, just a scratch,” the lady murmured as she passed a cotton ball over your wound, in a silent moment, warm in a certain way. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” you said, taking a breath as you endured that sting. “Better than ever.”

“Mm, you must be in shock,” she commented, caressing your cheek. “Ascoltami, (Y/N), you have to understand that I did it for you, to save you. If I lost you… I don’t know what would become of me, do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” you said with a smile that made the brunette frown and held your face a tighter.

“You understand… fine,” Donna sighed, letting your face go and finishing healing your wound. “I would understand that you were afraid of me, maybe I would prefer that you continue thinking that I am weak,” she whispered amused, kissing your forehead affectionately.

“I have never really thought that way,” you said due to the sudden heat of your body. “Besides, I don’t need a huge monster to protect me, with you it is more than enough. I’m safe with you, right?”

“Yes, of course you are. I will always protect you, no matter what,” she whispered, getting dangerously close to your lips, leaving them at the mercy of yours, which were quick to take advantage of the situation and kiss them deeply.

“Mm,” you murmured at the lady's confused attitude towards your kisses, but without giving her much time to react. “So... are you like my savior knight?”

“Do I look like a knight to you?” she joked, playing along, returning those increasingly wet kisses.

“Mm, no, I would never do this to a knight,” you purred, leaving her lips aside, kissing her neck as you pushed her against the couch, climbing up her hips.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” she asked at your sudden attack of lust, but not resisting at all. “I think you should rest.”

“No, no, Donna... a damsel in distress should be grateful, don't you think?” you whispered in her ear, biting her lobe, tearing a gasp from her lips as your hand ran over her chest, passively playing with the buttons of her dress.

“No, I… I'm altruistic, I just do it for love,” she said, her words clumsy, with a nervous smile at your touch, your wet kisses on her skin, the subtle sway of your hips.

“Then you will receive love,” you hissed, capturing her lips to silence her reluctance, leaving her completely still, leaving your savior without any chance of saving herself.

The kisses echoed off the walls, the euphoria drove you crazy, making you much more mischievous, fighting against her tongue in a fair battle while her hands delighted in your skin, slipping through the slits of your dress, squeezing, scratching, possessing…

“Mm, Donna,” you said, looking at the confused but visibly nervous lady, with her skin burning under the subtle touch of your lips, under the soft caresses of your fingertips on her neck. “My lady, allow me to kneel…”

You whispered in her ear, getting up to carry out your threat, letting your knees rest on the wooden floor as your hands became vines on her legs, under her dress, making her tremble.

“(Y/N), it's not the time, I…” she said, without moving away from the poison ivy that spread across her skin, those stinging leaves that dug into her flesh as they climbed helplessly, as they pulled up the black fabric to keep it out of your sight.

Ignoring those weak complaints, you reached her thighs, locking your eyes on hers, looking for a cowardly and silent approval, the trembling of her body, a subtle moan when your hand ran over her telltale wetness through the underwear.

“Cazzo…” she cursed, looking away, embarrassed, shy as always, but excited as never.

A sinister, menacing smile spread across your face as your lips distracted the doll maker, running over the places marked by your nails, kissing, tasting her warm skin.

Your hands, knowing that Donna was too busy with the pleasure your kisses gave her, the tickling your lips did to her skin, took advantage of that confusion, those pleasurable moans that came out of her mouth, to pull at the edges of the garment that covered her shame, sliding it elegantly down her legs, which didn’t resist.

“(Y/N)…” the lady moaned when she noticed you were getting closer, that your kisses and your body were moving towards her. “Gods…”

Your hands played their role well, slightly separating the brunette's legs while grabbing her flesh, while your mouth salivated at the sight of her shiny wetness in front of you, with her arousal clouding all your senses.

You didn't want to waste time, and you immersed yourself in her, kissing and savoring her essence in a delicate way, adoring her flavor, her skin, the moisture that permeated your impatient lips.

“Mm, delicious, Donna,” you moaned sensually, running your tongue through her folds, making her shudder, her hands going wild, tangling in your hair, holding you on her body. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she said with a voice broken by pleasure, closing her eye from the embarrassment of the situation, from the carefully studied movements of your lips on hers.

Donna moaned, writhing when the kisses attacked her clit, her most sensitive area, licking, sucking, moving in circles like a slow and wet dance, a delicate and cautious dance that drew from her lips the most beautiful melodies you had ever heard.

Her moans stopped being harmonious, becoming a kind of claim, a demand for you to increase your speed, to be constant and never abandon her. That was always Donna's greatest fear, that you would abandon her, no matter in what sense.

She was your savior, your protector, your refuge, your inspiration, she was everything to you and you to her.

How could she not protect her most precious possession? She would do it fiercely, she would always do it, because she loved you. Thinking about that protection only gave you more pleasure. It tempted you to stimulate yourself, to be selfish, but you were always strong against impulses.

Your kisses, the caresses of your tongue, the union of your fingers to that wet gratitude were too much for you, but they were also a reward, an act of love, of promises that would always be fulfilled, of passion, of lust, of madness, of moans and supplications… Donna and you, you and Donna, Lord and villager, knight and damsel, love and lust.

“Per, per favore… don’t stop now,” the lady said, panting nervously when you dared to enter, when your fingers slid along her walls while your tongue was unable to speak, being too busy with her taste, with her movements, with the beauty of her trembling body. “Sto per venire…”

“Oh, my love…” you sighed, laughing tenderly, granting your savior the gift of release, curling inside her, feeling her body demand your presence, squeezing you without wanting to let you go.

Donna screamed and you did too against her skin. Her body moved uncomfortably from the waves of pleasure and the moisture was already part of your mouth. Her arousal slipped from your lips, her movements stimulated your own lust, making you moan in unison.

“Donna…” you said with a kind look, leaning on her knees as she recovered from her well-deserved orgasm. “You will always protect me, right?”

“Always…”

[almayver]

Dome decided to share a bit of the PP Bible!!! (All the text is thanks to google translate, sorry) (This is LONG)

Part I - What is the Bible? This is what Phi O taught Dome. It is a tool that helps the team see the overall picture of the project. Sometimes, just the script may not be enough for the team to see the picture or see the direction of the work that Dome will direct. So this was created. It will consist of many things, from mood & tone, color scheme, cinematography style, etc., which are quite detailed. For example, the color scheme, Dome has to divide it. In the actual film and the promotional work or graphic work, they must have different colors. This is due to communication reasons and the chosen direction. But the main thing is mostly personal preference.

PART II 📒 Storytelling - To make it easier for the team to understand the 12 episodes of ON SALE within 10 minutes during the first meeting (if we read the script ourselves, it would take at least a day or two), Dome summarized the whole story for the team to see.

📒 Genre - What type of movie is Haunted House? Phi O forced us to choose only 3 types. At that time, Dome chose Heartwarming Spooky Comedy. At first, he used the word Scary, but Phi O said, "Isn't it that scary?" Let's change the word. — The main reason for dividing the movie types clearly was so that the team could understand each other that, "Hey, Phi, this movie actually has many more genres than that." So we had to divide the percentages. When writing a script or working on different parts and feeling confused about the mood and tone, try to look back at this pie chart so that you can find the right path. The actual result was not exactly the same. Drama 5% like this, is that right? 5555

📒 Logline - The synopsis or you can call it a plot. In the Thai film industry, it is used in a confusing way in each place. The assignment that Dome gave himself was How to tell it concisely, to make it understandable. After reading it, I felt like I wanted to watch this movie. I can tell the type of movie completely in one logline.

📒 Archetype - Brother O asked me to summarize the haunted house in 3 concrete ways, which must tell the story of the movie as much as possible and also have some abstract meanings hidden in it. Dome ended up summarizing 3 things. The first is Haunted House, which I argued with Brother O again about what kind of haunted house you have, a real haunted house or a haunted house in an amusement park. Well, it must be a haunted house in an amusement park. It meets the comedy requirement more. — The next is Bro, Homie. When our main characters are Home and Peach, it is a relationship between men who are not romantically in love like a couple. But that's it. When it is done, it becomes a male friendship that is suspicious until it ends up like that. I blame Brother Taynew too. 5555 Just kidding. — The last one is Dinner Table because it feels like a concrete, warm Asian style.

📒 Story Arc - The act of the movie. How many acts will this movie have that clearly divide the proportions of where the story is going now? And where will it end? Dome divides it into 4 main lines — the first line is Outer, what is the story, which property, what ghosts did you encounter? — The next line is Inner, going into a bit more detail, adding in the character's feelings, what is the main mission of the episode, what is the end result of the episode? — The last two lines are a summary of the act of the film, what is the Theme and which direction is the film taking the audience?

PART III 📒 Character - Who are our 4 main characters? What do they do? What kind of people are they? Dome has summarized them briefly and clearly. Plus, as a nerd (pretending to be smart), I happened to read The Eight Characters of Comedy by Scott Sedita. The summary is that he teaches how to write 8 types of comedy characters. No matter what situation or equation you put in, if there are characters like this together, there should be some comedy. If you are a nerd, try reading it. Dome has used this until it became a muscle for the 7 years since he started this career.

📒 Chemistry - Once we saw the images of the 4 main characters, let's summarize the chemical equation of this ghostbusting gang a bit. Use the principles of MBTI and Cognitive Function to make it easier to understand. This slide was used since the pilot was filmed because Dome and the actors did not have the opportunity to workshop before filming. At that time, I showed it to P'Ten, New, Muk, and Jan so that they could understand each other immediately in the limited time.

📒 Costume - Make a rough guide for the costume team to see that How does Dome see the characters dress? What kind of look do they wear? Do they wear accessories? What are their personal items? What color do they like to wear? When the costumers see it, they can develop it further. On the costume side, they will continue to make something called a Costume book, which is a costume bible specifically. It goes into great detail. For example, today Home will wear this outfit and this color because Home feels this way right now. It is consistent with the story in this episode. And there is also an overview of each EP. Do they go together? — The real Costume book takes many days to make, choosing the details of each outfit and each episode. And there are many outfits that were not used in the story because there was no place to put them. What a shame, lol.

All of these are just examples from the 4 main characters. We haven’t included supporting characters, guest characters, and ghosts in the story. So, multiply the three topics above. How many more characters are there? How many more pages do we need to make? (Bragging again)

PART IV 📒 Episode bible - If you have read this far, everyone should understand the benefits of making a bible. Each episode needs to make a separate bible for each episode. That means you have to go back and do it from PART I to PART III for each episode. It is not strange that there are more than a hundred slides. In conclusion, the team that criticizes is tired. 5555 Just kidding.

Apart from the Direction bible, other teams also have their own separate bibles, such as the Ghost bible, which is a bible that is purely about ghosts in the story. For example, who the ghosts are, what they look like, what is the cause of death? — The Food bible is a bible of all the food in the story, what menus are there, how to cook the food, etc. — Each team makes their own bible in detail so that everyone can understand and see the same picture as much as possible. This doesn't even mention the Cinematography, Art Direction, Location, Extra characters, etc. There are so many more. It is so detailed. Just thinking about it makes me discouraged. 5555

That's all for bragging. Anyway, thank you very much to everyone who read up to this point 🥳

PS. Recorded on NOV 14, 2024. If any knowledge is wrong, I'll be honest. It's Dome's knowledge and understanding at this time. If it causes anyone any inconvenience, I apologize. 🙏🏽

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (2)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part two | next part >>>

"He can't be serious."

You sigh and watch the wine in your glass slosh around, creating beautiful patterns along the rim of your glass, "unfortunately, I think he is."

Your cousin has on an expression you can't quite place, in-between disgust and pure confusion. He's at the microwave, busy heating up some popcorn. Having adamantly asked you to sit on his couch while taking care of the snacks, you thus decided to watch Sakura play with her legos along the carpet, keeping a watchful eye in case one might end up in her mouth.

"He's only marrying her for the money," is what he concludes after a small pause.

You snort into your glass, take a sip of it and allow the bitterness to coat your tongue, "I wish that were true."

"How would you know that?"

" 'Tsumu, is it written stupid on my forehead?" your own wrinkles in distaste, "I see the way he looks at her. He's--" you choke on your words then, the knot in your throat growing tenfold, "--he's in love with her."

"Who is in love, mum?"

"No one at all," you're quick to answer upon noticing Sakura has been listening in. She normally doesn't, a kid that enjoys staring off into space and conjuring make-believe stories, where there's magic and only happy endings. You try and force a smile onto your face, "how's the house construction for Princess Peach going?"

Your daughter lets out a laugh as she presents to you a square that looks nothing like a house. Still, you coo at it, "so pretty! I bet princess peach would love it."

Your conversation with Atsumu has to wait until Sakura is tucked away in her uncle's bedroom and has listened to three stories about princesses, before you manage to join him back onto the couch where he's busy watching a rerun of volleyball matches.

You don't get to see him much now, courtesy of the fact that he's a national athlete and has been booked at the big games representing Japan. You couldn't be prouder, and yet his permanent absence does still leave a big hole in your heart whenever he flies over a thousand miles. Atsumu had been your rock since you guys were kids, defending you on the school playground and dragging you around to parties and birthdays without your consent. He'd taken care of you as a big brother would and he still is. You don't know how to repay this kind of kindness.

You're just thankful that he has one week off so that you can rant and ramble about the unfairness of the world. At least with Atsumu here, it appeases the pain, if just a little.

"Have you signed the papers yet?" he asks, handing you the bowl of popcorn.

You grab a handful, popping onto of them into your mouth as you answer, "not yet."

"You should ask him for alimony, at least."

"I'm not sure I'd win that, 'Tsumu."

"Still," his nose wrinkles in distaste, "this feels unfair. And why are you the one taking care of Sakura on your own? And I don't mean the parenting part. What about the finances? Why can't he contribute?"

"Because he's a dick and he thinks he can get away with it," you're glad that the tv is providing a welcome distraction, for you can't bear to look into Atsumu's eyes, "I'm just going to sign it and be done with it. I don't want Sakura to suffer any longer. It's not fair on her, she barely sees him."

"Well maybe it's time you find someone else too, y/n."

Your thoughts suddenly flash to Kuroo's beautiful smile and you have to physically force yourself to keep from grinning. You can feel the heat from the back of your neck and come up with the excuse that it's still too early and that Sakura wouldn't like her world shattering just for your happiness.

But it seems that Atsumu knows you better than that, for he asks, "are you blushing?"

"Wha--" Panic skitters through you, "no. No, why would I blush?"

His eyebrows raise, "you’ve met someone then?"

"N--No. Not at all. It's--" you realize you're blundering when his smile widens slightly, "it's not like that."

"So who's the lucky guy?"

"Atsumu."

"Y/N," his eyes glisten with playfulness and he nudges your shoulder, "c'mon. Tell me!"

You let out another breath and mumble, "He’'s not someone I met. He's...Just someone I know."

"And how do you know him?"

"He's Sakura's PE coach."

Atsumu lets out a whistle, "well that--" he shakes his head, "--that's not what I imagined at all."

"Shut up."

"So you like him?"

"It's not--It's really not like that. I--" you try and rack your brain for anything to say because this is really embarrassing. Who has a crush at the age of twenty-nine? Practically all of your friends are already married and have kids, talk about husband problems and how they wish for their youth back. And you? Here you are, thinking you might have a crush. You're no better than a middle school girl.

Which is why you say, "I don't even know him."

"You just think he's cute?"

"Precisely. But there are a lot of cute guys. It doesn't mean anything."

“Right,” Atsumu lets out a breath before he leans back into the couch, “but you know what I think?”

You hum in response.

“I think you should get laid—“

You almost spit out your wine in shock, gape at him in horror, “Atsumu!”

Again, your brain goes into overdrive at the thought of Kuroo and his sweaty chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he just towers over your small frame…

NO! You slam onto your mental brakes and shake your head, “you’re disgusting.” You spit out.

“I’m telling the truth princess. I really believe in the power of s—“

“Don’t—“ you cut him off with a raised palm, “don’t even say it.”

“So tell me,” Atsumu proceeds to wriggle his brows suggestively which makes it even harder to stop the blush igniting along your face, “this guy, how handsome is he? Must be pretty good-looking for you to be blushing like that.”

“Shut up ‘Tsumu, it’s not like that at all. Just stop. He's like--half of my age."

“Alright alright,” he laughs his deep-bellied laughter and wraps an arm around you in a gentle, comforting hug, “but if ever you do get lais with him, you gotta tell me.”

“Mum, what does ‘getting laid’ mean?”

“Oh!” Your head snaps to the doorway only to see your daughter all sleepy-eyed and clutching a spare pillow.

“Sakura!” You scramble to over, casting your cousin a scowl as you do, “c’mon, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You hear Atsumu’s laughter follow you all the way to the bedroom.

————

It’s weird when Sakura isn’t around.

It’s almost like you’ve lost your purpose. But then again, you should be taking advantage of this right? That’s what everyone keeps telling you.

But alas, something in you cannot just let yourself rest for fear that your thoughts may go into a black hole of what ifs and images of Sakura with your ex-husband’s wife —well, almost ex-husband— and thus decide to take on a last-minute order.

It’s a simple enough request— a birthday cake. While you usually plan events from A to Z, this order merely requested a cake of any kind. So that’s how you spend your Saturday morning — creating a dough and sugar decorations that would fit into the theme of “Halloween”, as per what your client has asked.

You drive up to the pin location around four in the afternoon, strolling through the streets until the google maps signals you that you’ve arrived to your destination. Turning off the ignition at the said house — a beautiful Victorian home adorned with columns twice your height and size — you open your door only to come face to face with a familiar pair of golden eyes.

“Coach?”

“Kosuke-san?”

You both stare. And stare.

It’s shock that comes first. Before realization slaps you in the face, “oh!” You quickly bow in hopes that you haven’t been staring too long, “good afternoon, Coach. What—What brings you here?”

"Kosuke-san," he bows and looks just as surprised as you are, before he notices the way you're struggling to juggle to cake in your arms, "here, let me help you."

Without hesitation, he opens the door a bit wider and closes the gap between you, lifting the box from your arms, "jeez how heavy is this thing?"

You let out a small laugh, "it's all the icing sugar."

"Come in," he gestures with his chin for you to follow and as you step into the threshold he continues, "so when you said you were an event planner--I didn't expect you to be a cake designer too."

"It's an extra service I provide," you shrug, "I'm a patissier by career. Event planning is just something that keeps the cash flowing."

Kuroo pauses in mid-step then, "you're a patissier?"

"Yeah. Well, I was," you chuckle, "but anyway, it's been a while since I've baked now. So I hope it's just as good as you expect it to be."

Kuroo opens his mouth only to be cut off by a horde of boys stumbling into what appears to be the kitchen area. Now that you have a better look, it's all white marble and golden taps and golden handles on every piece of furniture to match. In any case, this house screams of money and for a minute, you feel a bit small and insignificant in your stained-flour blouse, the splotches of paint across your faded out jeans, courtesy of Sakura's art skills.

"You must be y/n!" one of the boys detaches himself. His orange hair glistens in the sun streaming through the window and he's a bit shorter than Kuroo. He beams at you and you can't help but be reminded of a puppy, "thanks for taking my order on such a short notice!"

"No worries at all. You must be...Hinata?"

"Yes!" he shakes your hand, "so I see you've met Kuroo! He's one of my best mates! We used to play against each other back in high school."

"Really now?" you quirk a brow in Kuroo's direction, watching the muscles of his arms ripple as he places the cake in an orderly manner inside the fridge. His voice is muffled when he replies, "yeah, he's the midget that made us jump for our lives. I hated him."

"You're just sour because you lost that one time," Hinata pouts, "but anyway, this is the rest of the ex-team!"

And so that's how you get a round of names that you will probably forget in five minutes and Kuroo, having seen the confusion in your eyes, can't help but laugh to himself because the sight is somewhat adorable. And he knows he shouldn't find it, he knows you're off limits because first, you're a mom from the school and two, you're married and have a kid. It's definitely not at all appropriate for his eyes to be roaming over your curves or to linger over the light glittering in your eyes.

Get a hold of yourself, he mentally whacks the back of his head.

“Where’s the little munchkin?” Kuroo asks you once you’re all settled after having been wheedled by Hinata to stay (“please please please you did such a great job on the cake” is what he’d begged). You’re now perched onto a plush lounge chair, a mixture of juice and vodka in your hand and watching the nth match of pingpong between someone whose name you forget and the other whose name sounds like Daichi. Though yoj might be wrong.

You’re glad for Kuroo’s presence, for even if he is a stranger, he still feels familiar to you right now in this setting.

“Sakura’s with her father today,” you explain with a slight smile in hopes it doesn’t give any of that bitterness away.

Kuroo opens his mouth like he wants so say something — anything— but you beat him to it, “we’re not together. Not anymore.”

His eyes widen with realization and you see it, the way he’s putting all the puzzle pieces together, “I’m sorry to hear,” is what he finally musters.

“Nothing be to be sorry about.”

“So… the name Kosuke…”

“Is my maiden name,” you reply, “I’ve never changed names. Looking back, I think I’ve done the right thing.”

Kuroo isn’t sure whether he should be mad for you or hurt in your place. After all, who in their right mind would leave their wife and their toddler daughter?

He deals with little kids every day, so he knows exactly what they’re like on a daily basis, and it’s not easy.

“I’m sorry,” it seems that’s the only thing he knows how to say.

“Really,” you laugh at him, “how can you be sorry when it’s not even your fault?”

Kuroo shrugs and grins bashfully because yes, it’s true and he still doesn’t know what to say. So he decides to ask, “And Sakura… how is she?”

“She doesn’t realize it. She’s too young,” your smile fades slightly, “in a way, I hope that’s a good sign.”

His heart clenches at the thought of you raising this kid alone. He can’t even imagine it. It makes sympathy swim inside his chest like an ache he can’t quite ignore. The look on your face suggests that you’ve been let down and he has the sudden impulse to tell you that everything will be alright, will be okay.

But he can’t do that. You’ll think of him as a creep. So he bites his tongue and look away instead, at the war of pingpong ongoing between his two friends. In a way, he’s glad for the distraction as he sips on his beer.

“And you?” Your voice piping up surprises him. His eyes flit back to your face. You continue, “married? Engaged?”

Kuroo’s throat bobs as he chuckles, “no. None of that.”

“How come?” You take a sip of your cocktail, “you don’t seem like the type to wound up alone with a hundred cats.”

“No no,” he can’t help but laugh because one, you’re hella attractive to him; tiny and frail and looking like he can fit you in a box no problem and two; you’re actually entertaining to be around. Something that he’s found lacking in his previous dates, “I just didn’t find anyone special yet.”

“Well there's no rush,” you lift your cocktail as you speak, “and anyway, you’re still young. You should enjoy it while you can.”

“Young?” Kuroo’s face breaks into a grin as his golden orbs glimmer down at you, amused, “how old do you think I am?”

"Uhm--I don't know. Early twenties?"

"I'm twenty-five," he gives you a look, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-eight. Going on twenty-nine."

"You look like you've just gotten out of college though," Kuroo's smirk is visible even behind his beer as he chugs down most of his drink, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you and Sakura were sisters."

"Not even," you retort, "And excuse me, but you look younger than twenty-five."

"I make up for it in height," he peers down at you, "but I suppose you wouldn't understand that considering--"

Your arm whacks at his shoulder before you know it. A playful gesture surely, but one that you don't really use on your daughter's teachers. Let alone ones that have bulging muscles and a figure to die for. You stare at your hand for a long minute, your brain going blank, before your eyes whip up to his and horror seeps into your gaze.

"Oh my god!" you screech and recoil like he's the one that had slapped you, "I'm so sorry, I--It's just--automatic you know, my cousin--he's got the same humor and--well I--I'm really sorry--"

The guffaw that leaves Kuroo's mouth is so loud that it causes heads to turn, even the ones invested in the ping pong game. He bends over while holding his stomach and the initial panic that you have wears off upon seeing him look so joyously happy. You can't help but chuckle along.

"What?" you say when he's regained most of his breath, "what's so funny?"

"You are," he grins, before it turns mischievous, "senpai."

"Hey--now that's going a bit too far!"

You're not quite sure what time you get home that night. But you do know that you've gone to sleep with a smile on your face.

————

"Kuroo sensei! He stole my ball!"

A typical Monday morning where Kuroo is busy surveilling the fifth graders as they decided to play basketball during their free time. He's not one to deny such requests, actually enjoys watching them play and seeing them grow day by day, developing their techniques. But to say that he's a bit in the clouds would be an understatement.

"Kuroo sensei!"

He finally snaps back to reality. Blinks down at the tiny boy with the biggest scowl he's ever seen yet, "yes I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"He stole my ball!" the young boy points at one of the chubby classmates who seems quite content in playing by himself, "and now he's saying that it was his!"

Kuroo can't help but raise a brow. He's taught that class before, knows exactly that the chubby little kid doesn't have that many friends, including the boy standing before him.

"I don't think he stole your ball."

It's a bold statement, but from the way the tiny student squirms and averts his gaze, Kuroo believes he is right, "but--but he did! He really did steal my ball!"

"I have an idea," Kuroo bends down to his height, not able to restrain the grin along his face at the pout forming on the student's lips, "why don't you go and play with him? He seems a bit lonely."

"Yeah that's because he never talks to anyone in class."

"Then why don't you be the first? hm?" he nudges the boy's shoulder, "show your class a good example. Come on."

With a bit more reassurance, the said student goes over and Kuroo watches fondly as the two exchange awkward greetings before the chubby student nods his head, glancing at his PE coach like he'd just dropped a bomb.

Five minutes later, they're playing together like best friends.

And Kuroo goes back to daydreaming.

He's not usually like this. So out of it, so inside his own head that he can't see the outside world. But ever since that party he's been wondering when's the next time he'd get to see you, to talk to you. Not just as Sakura's mum but as someone, maybe a friend. He's addicted to the way your eyes curve up before your lips are even drawn into a smile, like you're sharing a special secret with him before the world gets a flash of blinding white teeth. He enjoys watching you move about because you're just so tiny, holding cups with two hands and always having to tiptoe about to find stuff. But most of all, that conversation with you had him dreaming of more. He wants to know you, that initial curiosity turning to what he'd define as stupid infatuation.

Yes, Kuroo Tetsurou has a crush, and he's not quite sure how to feel about it.

"--Earth to Kuroo?"

He blinks. In front of him stands his colleague and friend Bokuto. Having faced each other off countlessly during their high school days, it was a miracle and lovely surprise to see him at the new year induction. Since then, they’d been a constant pair inside the school walls and creating assignments, organizing and coordinating events had never been so fun.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and rubs a hand over his face.

“You look like death, mate,” Bokuto leans on the fencing that separates the courts from the building, “why the long face?”

“Haven’t slept well,” Kuroo says, but he knows he’s not convincing when Bokuto’s eyebrows raise in question.

“You? Firm believer of 10hrs of sleep every day?” His friend shakes his head, “no way. Tell me what happened. What’s got you looking so dazed?”

“It’s noth—“ he halts. Maybe he can find some advice? Bokuto’s known for being a badass romantic after all. Maybe he can have something wise to say.

Like tell Kuroo you’re way out of his league and— what the hell is he even thinking, dating someone’s mom? Someone older than him, at that?

The words burst out of his mouth without warning:

“I think I like someone.”

Bokuto merely blinks. His face lights up, “well that explains it. Who?”

Kuroo’s arm swings to the back to scratch his neck, “it’s… one of the student’s mom’s.”

The last few words are said in a mumble, causing Bokuto to lean into his friend with a wide-eyed gaze, surprise flitting across his face when he realizes what Kuroo has just said.

“No,” the grey-haired man’s mouth turns into an “o” as he stares his friend down, “no way. Who?”

“I don’t think you know her. Sakura Kosuke?” Kuroo prompts.

“Sakura Kosuke…” Bokuto shakes his head in thought, “haven’t heard of that one. But—-Kuroo! I thought older women weren’t your style!”

“She’s not that old,” Kuroo’s face flames, “only by three years.”

"Who would've thought," Bokuto breathes out with a chuckle when a thought suddenly occurs to him, "wait-- it's not the chick who came by with the cake last weekend?"

Kuroo nods and awkwardly clears his throat, "yeah, the very same."

"Ha! If only I knew! I would've done my best to set you up!"

"It's not funny!"

But now that Bokuto has some leverage of information, he's definitely not going to let it go and Kuroo kind of regrets spilling the beans to him, of all people. That, and the probably fact that he’ll be spreading this news like wildfire across their friend group.

Thankfully, Kuroo’s schedule makes it that it’s hard to think about anything but work since midterm season is approaching for his other primary school colleagues. There’s after-school shows and events for every single activity and since he’s being asked to help for every single thing (because he’s the preschool teacher and, yeah! How come you don’t have any events planned for your preschoolers?!). Which means that he doesn’t have actual time to think about you, not even when he’s finally home and mustering up enough strength to brush his teeth, take a shower and dump himself in bed.

He does, however, collide head-first into you one week day as you’re hurrying out of the principal’s office, looking flustered and red-faced.

“Kosuke-san,” he takes a longing glance your rosy cheeks and felt his hand tingle with want. Just to see if it’s as soft as he imagines it to be? “You okay?”

“Kuroo sensei,” you run a hand through your locks and causing your hair to get even more disheveled, “hi, sorry— how are you? It’s been a while.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You’re looking a bit more greenish now that he sees you in the light.

“Yes I—“ your hands flutter up before you in an attempt to find an explanation, “—just came back from a meeting with Sakura’s teacher.”

“Oh?” Kuroo frowns, “what—nothing bad, I hope?”

“It’s just—well,” you try to chuckle but it comes out like a whimper, “apparently she got into a fight with one of the other girls in her class. Got a few injuries herself so…”

Your eyes are wet and it seems you’re half a second away from a breakdown. So it’s only natural for Kuroo to take a few steps closer to you before he whispers a soft, “hey hey, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you take a shaky breath, “it’s just been a long, hard morning.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo bites onto his lower lip, not sure what to do to make things better as he watches your chest move up and down in staggered breaths.

That’s when an idea hits him. He makes a grab for the back of your elbow and the smallness, the thinness of your limb takes him be surprise as he steers you out of the corridor.

And when your wide eyes flutter up to his, he quickly says something along the lines of, “I know a place. It’ll make you feel better.”

That’s how he finds himself dragging you to the nearby coffee place he always frequents— called Espresso Block— a small vintage bakery run by none other than his good friend Osamu Miya, as part of his expansion branch from his onigiri restaurants.

"Y/N!" Osamu greets as soon as he spots your face trailing behind Kuroo's tall figure. He pushes the raven-haired man aside with impatience before sauntering over and wrapping you up in a bear hug.

"Osamu," you breathe in the scent of baked croissants lingering on his uniform, "you're choking me."

"Oh--sorry," he drops you and grins sheepishly, that is before he registers that you're together with one of his friends, causing his eyes to narrow, "how do you two know each other?"

"Kosuke-san is Sakura's mother and she was having a bad day," Kuroo explains before he turns to you, "how do you know him?"

Did you imagine the five-second frostiness that came from his tone? Maybe not, as you reply, "he's my cousin. We grew up together. I taught him how to play volleyball back in primary school."

Kuroo's relief is instant. Thank god, it's not a close friend, nor is it a romantic partner candidate. His mood brightens instantly and without further ado he proceeds to lead you towards a table in the back.

He doesn’t fail to ignore the way Osamu’s eyes are following him all the way back to his table as he carries the two drinks — strawberry latte for him and a black coffee for you — and Kuroo can just hope that his dear friend can keep his distance until you've gone.

Becayse he's quite certain he will be subject to interrogation. Especially if you're that close to Osamu.

Placing the tray on the table, he takes out the mug and pushes it into your hands before finding his seat opposite you. You grab the cup between your two palms and take a deep breath as Kuroo sips on his latte.

The sweetness of the strawberry never disappoints. It’s refreshing and brings a smile to his lips. Osamu sure knows his desserts.

“I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you seem to have composed yourself from earlier. You take a small sip of your coffee and Kuroo watches in amusement as you shudder.

"Do you want some milk with that?" he can't help but ask.

You nod and look shameful, and Kuroo's heart squeezes with sympathy. Your eyes are tinged with aprons of blue and there are tired lines lining your eyes and the corners of your mouth. It's only when he comes back -- from having gotten some steamed milk from Osamu and a suggestive wink to match -- you dip your head into a nod and mumble out a soft 'thanks', eyes glued to the way the dark brown turned into a creamy latte.

"You could've asked me for a latte," Kuroo smiled to show that he didn't mind at all. But you winced.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't say sorry," he softened, "just--next time, you can tell me what you want, Kosuke-san. I'm not here to bite you...unless you want me to."

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise and Kuroo pinks at his words. They'd just slipped out on their own. It's not like he'd wanted to sound flirty when you're looking all shaky and worse for wear. He quickly clear his throat and tries to change the subject, "how are Sakura's injuries?"

"She's fine, got herself a bruised lip."

His eyebrows raise in surprise, "woah, that's still something."

"Yeah," you mutter and take another sip. And then another, "I hope this doesn't become a habit."

"I've taught Sakura since the start of this semester," Kuroo leans forward, elbows propped onto the table, "and I can tell you--she's anything but violent."

"I really hope you're right about this. I can't have her running around beating up everyone."

Kuroo stifled a small laugh, "to be honest, I think it's good she knows how to defend herself."

You shoot him a look and he can't help but laugh. And it's so contagious, the way it booms out of him like a melody, that you cannot restrain yourself from joining in.

"You're right," you say in-between chuckles.

"Maybe she got her mom's feisty spirit," Kuroo adds.

"No way. I was as silent as a mouse," you retort, "if she got anything like that, it's probably from her father's--"

You halt in mid-conversation, wanting to bite down your tongue for even mentioning him and quickly flash Kuroo a bashful smile in hopes he'll just brush it off, "sorry, let's not talk about him--"

"Kosuke-san, you really have to stop saying sorry all the time," Kuroo says with a grin, "it's not healthy."

"I know, I'm--" you catch yourself and he bursts out laughing once more at your face, "don't say it! No matter what!" he chides.

"Stop--" but you're grinning from ear to ear, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, "--Kuroo sensei, I hope you're not as playful with your students or they'd never learn anything from you."

"Course not," he winks, "I keep that solely for the pretty ladies."

His suggestive tone makes you blush despite it all and you look down at your coffee with the blush blazing so hard across your cheeks you swear everyone can see its colour from afar.

"I don't know how it is at home though," Kuroo's voice brings you out of your small bubble of warmth, "it must be tough handling Sakura all alone. Do you ever take a break?"

"Well, she goes to see her dad ever two weeks. But other than that, she's always with me unless my parents decide to come over. Which isn't as often as I would like."

"Why's that?"

"They live in the countryside and have a farm. It's hard for them to take days off, and I don't blame them not wanting to be around," your voice lowers to a mutter at the last few words, "especially after what happened with the marriage and all..."

"Marriages fail every time," Kuroo says gently then, "that too, isn't your fault."

"I wish my parents believed that," you let out a small laugh, "but they're right. We were too young to get married."

"But you have Sakura right? Isn't she worth it?"

His eyes, golden flecked and filled with so much hope and softness, meet yours from across the table. You suddenly feel a bit hot in your seat, wanting to squirm as you quickly look away from Kuroo's gaze because dear god, it's almost like he's ripping away, ripping apart every single layer of self-protection and preservation and reading you out like an open book.

"You're right," you clear your throat upon realizing he'd still been waiting for your response, "she is worth every single second. I wouldn't change anything about what happened. I just--I wish my parents could see it that way too."

"I think you spend a little too much time stressing about things you can't control," Kuroo takes another sip of his latte, "how about you learn to let go a bit? Maybe take the day off? Go hiking?"

"With Sakura?" you shake your head, "impossible, I--"

"Surely you have someone that can take care of her while you're gone," he tilts his head, jaw resting into one of his hands and making him appear all the more handsome.

Your thoughts flash to Atsumu. He's right, you could technically take a day off by dropping Sakura with the blonde. But she's not his responsibility and Atsumu has other priorities in his life rather than hang out with his niece. But Kuroo's persistence is strong and he makes you -- practically orders you -- to text him when he connects the dots that you two are also family.

"That guy can learn a thing or two about being responsible anyway," grins Kuroo, "so I'm sure he won't mind."

————

How did you end up here?

That's the question you keep asking yourself -- even when you're busy picking out your clothes only to realize that you barely have anything that's worth 'party material', even when you're attempting to do your makeup even though it's been almost three (or four?) years since you've tried to look your best because Sakura's wellbeing always came first.

Even when you're strapping up your black ankle boots, the question is getting drilled into your brain like a broken mixtape as you wonder whether this is a good idea after all.

"Go," Atsumu is firm when you call him for the nth time. It's five minutes until Kuroo's supposed to pick you up and feeling the pressure on your shoulders, you quickly decide to call your cousin in an emergency, "you have to do it, y/n. Stop making this all about Sakura. You need to be happy too."

"I am happy," was what you'd mumbled out in the phone receiver. You don't realize how tightly you're gripping the phone, so tight that your knuckles have turned white.

"I know you are, but you'll be happier if you live for yourself. At least for one night," Atsumu responds, "and Sakura's safe with me. And if ever there's an issue I'll call Osamu first to--"

"What?! No! No you call me first, okay?"

"Y/n please just relax. It's supposed to be a fun night."

You slump against the wall in defeat, "I don't even know why I'm doing this," you mumble mostly to yourself, though you're certain he can hear it too, "there's no point trying to prove that I'm content with my life. There are things that are going to leave me unsatisfied. I'm--I was fine with that, really."

"Are you though?" your cousin's voice is accusatory this time, "you're ready to live just for Sakura? Making her happy will make you happy too? Is this how it's supposed to work?"

"Technically yes, I'm her mother--"

"--And you've been left behind!"

The words are like a slap. You bite down onto your lower lip.

It draws blood.

You hiss, sucking on the skin as the metallic taste hits your tongue.

In truth, Atsumu has a point. You can't just live to make Sakura happy because that will ultimately destroy you. Not because she's not the only thing you need in your life. But because despite having your little girl being the center of your world, despite being able to sustain her with your career, you still feel like it's just yesterday when Aoi had upped and left you. His excuses, as pathetic as they had been, were arrows shooting straight into your heart. He left you crying into your pillow that night, hovering over your figure until you'd told him to 'get lost or I'll call the cops on you' before curling up on the small couch that you'd gotten rid of once he'd moved out for good.

So much pain. So much pain and haunted nights and obstacles that had come your way. That, along with caring for Sakura, had been a big hurdle. You remembered the long mornings, how hard it had been to drag yourself out of bed for the first few days. Atsumu had volunteered to stay with you then, giving you all the support you needed until you'd had enough strength to get back on your feet.

So he knew exactly what you'd gone through. Had seen it all first-hand. He wasn't kidding when he said you really needed to get laid. Somehow, he seems to have a valid point.

But it's been so long since you've left the dating scene that the thought of it makes you want to vomit.

"I'm sorry y/n, that wasn't cool." Atsumu's voice flows through the receiver like a lullaby and you take a deep, staggering breath, "I just--I know how hard it's been pulling your weight and caring for Sakura. It practically consumed your entire life. It's about time you get that motherfucker back for screwing things up--"

"Language," you tsk at him.

"You know what I mean," he replies impatiently, "So go out there, have fun. Get smashed. And at least do something to make you happy for a change. Alright?"

"Yeah okay," you mumble.

"And plus, you're with a bunch of guys that I know. They're cool. They'll keep an eye on you."

"Thanks mom."

"Anytime hun."

You can't help but giggle before you hear a car pulling up outside, "alright. I think my ride's here."

"Yeah, try to get laid okay--"

"Atsumu!" your cheeks flame, "I hope you're not saying all this in front of Sakura!"

A burst of laughter echoes from the receiver, "don't worry, miss Sakura is asleep. Have fun y/n! Take pictures!"

The drive there is less awkward than you'd imagined it to be, despite the fact that Kuroo's get-up does make your mouth salivate. And not just you. You realize a bunch of girls have him on their radar, from the stolen glances driven his way as you follow his broad back out of the parking and into the small terrace-looking entrance flanked by colored glowing palm trees.

"I haven't been in a club for like four years," you confess to him as you trudge into the queue. The air smells like cigarette and smoke. And something else. Something dangerous. It makes you giddy, you realize.

"Four years?" his eyes grow round as he looks down at you, "you have drunk before right? To the brink of passing out?"

"Like...maybe four years ago?"

His mouth opens, then closes. He shakes his head, a smile curving at the edges of his lips, "remind me not to drown you with tequila."

"I'll try my best."

You meet the rest of the gang upon stumbling into the club. It's dark and pulsating with music, with two dance floors separated by the DJ stationed on a platform right in the middle. Lights are bouncing off the space like crazy and all around you are moving bodies that writh and mold together until you're not sure where one ends and the other begins.

“Y/N! You’re here!” A drunk Hinata hooks an arm around your shoulder before steering you towards the bar, “you’re just in time! We were going for a round of lambos.”

“Lambos?” You balk and meet Kuroo’s eye, “you mean— Lamborgini’s?”

“Hell yeah!” Another one of the guys chimes in. It’s almost comical, the way they’re all stumbling against each other as you move like a congregation until you’re straight up in front of the barman.

“Ten Lambo’s please!” Hinata slams his card ontot he counter.

It brings back a wave of nostalgia, seeing the line of glasses and the way the bartender drops the alcohol in like he can do it with his eyes closed. You’re jostled and pressed against warm chests and shoulders, surrounded from all sides and yet, you feel safe with them all. That is, until you feel a soft brush against your elbow.

You turn to see Kuroo’s warm golden orbs.

“All okay?” He mouths to you.

You nod and give him a smile in return, and the grin that he cracks makes a troop of butterflies swoop into your stomach.

You look away just as Hinata thrusts a glass into your hands, “come y/n! This one’s on me!”

One shot becomes two. And two become three. Soon enough you find yourself on the dance floor and moving to the beat with one of the girls from the group— Yachi?— while the guys are trying to pay each other back their shots. The music vibrates through the floor up your body and flood your veins so that you get lost in it, ecstasy and the thrill of just being alive finally gushing through your brain, fogged up and amplified by the alcohol in your bloodstream.

It’s amazing. You feel free. Like nothing can stop you.

It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in a while.

After a while, you and Yachi decide to take a well-deserved break, stumbling over to the clustered seating space filled with red cushions as the boys scatter to find more alcohol. At this point you’re surprised that they’re still moving around and conscious, considering the amount they’ve drunk.

One of the boys— the one with the kind smile called Daichi— offers to get you guys some water as you take a seat, allowing your tired legs to take a break.

“I’m going to fine Hinata!” Yachi says into your ear and you nod before ushering her out of your way. There’s something between those two, a kind of tension that will develop into something more if they just allow it.

But you’re not one to meddle, not when your own love life’s a mess.

That’s when you notice.

It’s the lingering stare out of the corner of your peripheral that makes you turn your head.

Then you see him.

A tall, lanky man. He’s seated right opposite you, a drink in his hand and taking a swig. But there’s no mistake, for when his eyes meet yours across the room you can only jolt in shock.

You look away with embarrassment and disgust. Heat spreads to the back of your neck and goosebumps run up your arms. Suddenly, it’s a little too cold in this hot, sweaty club.

Why is he looking at you like that?

There’s no mistaking the intention. You risk one more glance and confirm that indeed, there’s a darkness in his eyes; the kind of a predator.

The kind that wants to strip you bare.

It’s unsetttling, unnerving.

Disgusting.

You don’t even hesitate. It’s like instinct for you jump off your seat with the only purpose to find Kuroo. But to your terror, the man starts to follow you. And soon enough it becomes a game of catch: of cat and mouse. You almost trip over your high heels as you push through the moving bodies as quickly as you can.

But the figure is there, hovering over you like a dark shadow that causes your heart to clench.

You bite back a whimper, pushing through a throng of girls as you frantically search for a sign of Kuroo’s familiar mop of hair. Or Hinata’s. Or just about anyone for that matter—

Bumping into a chest, you’re more than surprised as you let out a small yelp only to hear a familiar alto.

“Kosuke-san, everything alright?”

“K—Kuroo sensei,” your mumble is drowned in the beats of the music, eyes darting between his face and the dodgy man.

He’s now standing by the bar a few feet away from you. The same kind of withering stare that makes you wince.

Hurriedly, you turn to Kuroo and grip his shirt, wanting nothing more than to hide behind him, “I—uhm— there’s someone—“ the words jumble up as they pour out of your mouth and you find you can do nothing but grip his shirt for dear life, like Kuroo’s the only thing that can help you out of here.

Thankfully, he seems to understand your dilemma, for he puts a hand on your shoulder before steering you a little closer to him and away from the main path, a frown evident on his face, “what’s wrong Kosuke-san?”

But it’s only when he follows your fear-stricken eyes that Kuroo realizes there’s something — someone tormenting you. He recognizes the dark hunger, the prowling intent.

Instantly, his hand grips your waist. Tugs you closer.

You stumble into him, “Kuroo sensei—“

But Kuroo’s not having it. He stares the man down with a glower, longer body practically wrapped around yours in a protective embrace as he dares the man to do something, anything.

Try me, his eyes are saying, you’re not going to lay a single hand on her.

The stranger finally breaks eye contact after a few beats of silence and Kuroo keeps watch, golden eyes blazing until the man is nothing more but a memory of smoke as he disappears into the crowd.

Only then does he allow his hold to relax. Tilting down towards you. He murmurs out softly:

“He’s gone, Kosuke-san.”

You’re practically glued to him at this point, face buried in his chest and hands gripping so tightly onto his shirt that you might’ve grown claws. Kuroo nudges you gently once more, and that’s when you look up from the depths of his shirt.

The sight makes him almost coo because goddamnit even in the dim disco lights you look adorable. He has the sudden urge to pinch your cheeks and he’s glad his hands are somewhat occupied along your waist.

“You okay?” Is what he whispers.

You nod, looking a bit shaky and green int the face, “yeah—I’m—I’m fine. Thank you. He was—it scared me.”

“I know,” Kuroo draws away ever so slightly so he can have a better look at your face, “I’ll bring you home, alright?”

“No no it’s okay,” you shake your head and attempt a smile, but even Kuroo can see past those shaky lips, “you stay and have fun. I’ll call an Uber and—“

“Nonsense,” he grabs your elbow once more, “I’ll accompany you. C’mon.”

———

It’s definitely unnerving. It leaves you shaking with fear and you’re thankful for Kuroo’s strong grip on your arm as he maneuvers you out of the club.

The rush of cold wind hits your cheeks, leaving the soft beats of the club behind. Slowly, the world comes back into focus as the air rushes through your lungs and the sound bustling traffic in the distance is brought back into focus.

Only then do you realize how close you’re standing to the coach.

With a start, you stumble away with a muttered “sorry”, not daring to meet his eyes while quickly brushing off your clothes because dear god you weren’t sure what to do with your hands.

The uber arrives without much delay — thankfully — and the ride home is silent, almost as if there’s an awkward tension that has settled between the two of you. Away from the alcohol and now sobering up, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that you’d practically glued yourself to this man earlier. The act is so embarrassing you decidedly keep your gaze on the flurry of bustling streets and dim lamps flying by.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until a warm hand is shaking your shoulder, followed by a soft; “we’re here.”

You gasp, noticing that you’ve been pressed against Kuroo’s shoulder all this time.

“Oh,” you scramble away as quick as lightning, “I’m so sorry—“

His lips quirk upwards, “no harm done, senpai.”

You hate it when he calls you that. It makes you sound… old.

Nevertheless, you decide to be quiet as he accompanies you up to your flat, hands in his pockets while following you up the rusty stairs. You hope he’s not judging; it’s not like you have unlimited amounts of funding, what with Sakura’s education and activities.

“Well,” you finally reach the door to your flat and turn on your heel so that you face him, “thanks… for everything.”

"No problem," he's smiling down at you. Still so patient, still so happy to help. Your heart swells in your chest and you ask, "how are you getting back?"

"Oh, probably Uber..." he trails off, already turning away to fish his phone out of his pocket, "it's not far."

"Where do you live?"

You almost bawk when he tells you his address, because it's practically at the other end of town. He'll be there in forty-five minutes, at least.

The words are automatic, shooting out of you, "I'm so--"

But Kuroo's hand whips out, clamping over your lips. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, only to see the young man grinning like there's no tomorrow.

"You really need to stop doing that," he finally says before drawing back. Already, you're hit with the cold air following Kuroo's touch upon your skin, "I wanted to accompany you. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I know, but--"

He throws you another pointed look that has you clamping down on your mouth. You're about to say sorry once more because you're being a pathetic blubbery mess, but the look in his eyes makes you say a soft, "thank you" instead.

"You're welcome," and with one final grin and a wave to match, the school Coach disappears down the corridor, leaving you gazing at his broad back until his silhouette turns the corner and away from your sight.

[meo-eiru]

THE GAME IS SO WELL MADE I LOVE IT!!!!!! HEHHEHEHEHE ITS DEF ONE OF MY FAV VNS NOW!! seriously hoping it gets popular something like THIS GOOD needs to be recognized!!!! you both did an amazing job!!!

but i gotta ask, does this mean we’ll get more content of our fav boys again? :3 just asking!! no pressure to reply its alright ^_^

LOVE LOVE LOOOVEEE YOU!!!! TAKE CARE!!!!! (ﾉ´ з `)ノ♡ ～('▽^人)

Thank you so much!!!

The feedback has been so overwhelmingly positive so far, both me and sel are super grateful to you guys.

I wouldn't say I'm extremely worried about it but I was definitely expending some people to be displeased about it, and maybe they are but everyone has been so kind so far. We worked so hard and poured our entire hearts into this and reading your nice comments, asks, reviews and the tips some of you have sent really makes us feel like it was all worth it after all.

And yes as I mentioned before we will slowly go back to our usual schedule and I'll start posting about the boys again, I didn't forget about them! Both me and sel are kinda catching our breaths right now but once I rest up it's yandereing time

[kix-mm]

Will their be part 3 of A once cruel god. G/t short story and end with a good ending?

A once cruel god. G/t short story pt4

Hehehehe

Pt1 - Pt3

Amber cautiously looked up at Victor, expecting the sight of some witty smile or the face of someone holding back a laugh. Maybe Victor had just gotten better at sounding serious... but not even his face gave away the joke.

Victors brows were furrowed into a worried expression, his eyes were strangely puffy, and there was no smile, not even a smirk. This was getting harder for Amber to tell if it was genuine or not. "Y-youre joking right, my lord?-" "Victor.."

Amber winced at his voice, bracing for any impact. "I'm sorry..?" "Call me by my name... not my title, please..." Victor asked with his hands clasped together. He almost looked like an angel whenever he did that. "Will you help me become a better person?" Victors eyes shimmer with hope, making Amber even more uncomfortable than he was a moment before. "Why me? How could I possibly help you? I'm just a human... you're a god, nothing I say has any meaning to you"

"That has changed..." Victor insisted, holding Ambers tiny hand with another one of his. "Please, give me a chance to listen and do better... I'll listen from now on, honest"

That stung Victor badly. How could he think something like that? Who had told him such a lie? Ambers words always meant so much to him. How could he not know this? Was his love for the human not clear enough? His praise and kindness were always something he'd stride for. But then again, praise and kindness had always been the only thing he'd listen to, though he could never understand it, he understood the tone, anything otherwise meant nothing to him... oh...

Amber instinctively pulled his hand back, afraid to lose the only one he had left. He could not believe what he was hearing, this all sounded so genuine, too good to be true, what was the catch? "A-and... if I can't? If I say something you don't like? What will happen to me?" He asks while rubbing his arm, looking down at the stump it was reduced to, Victor was already quite fond of the taste of humans, so would Amber become nothing more than a light snack?

"Nothing will!" Victor raises his voice in insistence. "N-nothing will happen to you! I'm asking you a favor after all." Amber seemed a little overwhelmed by the sudden pressure. If he was genuine about this, he would have the opportunity to make sure Victor never hurts anyone ever again! Nobody would ever have to go through the horrendous torture that so many lost their lives to... but on the other hand, Amber was a mere human. He didn't know what would be best for a giant - a god, what if he makes a mistake in his teaching? A human error?

Ambers' thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud growl, making the poor human freeze in fear. He looked up at Victor to see the young god flush red with embarrassment and hug his stomach. "s-sorry... wait- where are you going??" Amber had begun to once again desperately dragging himself away, as did every other human servant flee. This made Victor only feel more ostracized and embarrassed. "H-hey, come on... nothing is going to happen to you." He gently picks Amber up, who squirms at first but quickly gives up.

"My lord- Victor, please put me down - I-I don't want to - I promise I'll help you! I promise! Just please put me down!" Victor beams at Ambers words, once again ignoring the young man's plea in favor of Amber promising to help him. "Really? Do you mean it? Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" He pushes Amber against his chest, a childlike joy radiated off of Victor. This was supposed to be a hug of some kind.

Then came another growl, Victor wanted to just sink through the floor and disappear. Even feeling Amber tensed up again was making him feel bad. He slowly placed Amber down and lowered himself to their height once more. "I'm sorry about that." Victor speaks in a soft voice, knowing all too well that a moment like this was responsible for a great deal of pain for Amber.

"Shouldn't you eat something..?" Victor shakes his head. "I can't yet, I'm on a diet..." Amber frowns "a diet? Why are you on a diet?" Victor taps his finger nervously on the marbled floor. "I...Ate someone..."

Amber looked confused. Yes, of course, he ate someone. His main diet consisted of human flesh, so it was to be expected that he might eat a human walking around carelessly.

But then he thought a little more about it, and the realization hit him like a brick. Victor wasn't talking about humans, was he? Rather, his own kind - a god. As if Victor wasn't enough of a menace already, he had to take it a step further and become a cannibal!

"You-" Victor nods slowly, his stomach growls some more. "I can't leave my room until all their remains have gone, so now I've just got... cravings..." he explains. "I couldn't help it, I really couldn't. Everything was so strange, and everyone was acting so weird, and I just - I don't know why I did it! I enjoyed it so much - Amber, it was terrible, I ate everything!" Victor holds his stomach tighter as it growls again.

Amber sat there in shock, eating humans was already seen as cruel, but it wasn't frowned upon too much by the gods, but one god eating another? That's a god eater, one of their only fears. As if Victor wasn't isolated enough due to his background, now he has become a threat to everyone involved.

"I won't hurt you, Amber... please don't look at me like I'm a monster.." Victor sounded devastated, not for what he did, but for seeing Ambers eyes like that.

"But... but you've just committed the biggest act of treason. You killed your own kind - you ate your own kind!" Amber had slowly tried to create some distance between the two, but it had no use, Victor wasn't going to let him hide this time.

Amber gulped, thoughts rapidly spun through his mind to try and sugar the god up, pleasing him is all that he knew could make a difference. But just as he was about sweeten his voice and speak some nonsense to go right to the gods head he was stopped by a large finger gently pressing against his lips.

"Amber... don't, please, I'm over that, and I just need you... to stay here with me. " Victors gaze was that of genuine need. Amber was all he had. No other human would feel like they were being listened to and would just continue to be a yes man. Victor laid his head down on the surface, his large eyes delicately trained on Amber.

"You can't help me with this, I merely have to wait it out... so in the meantime... could you teach me to be... better?" Victor asked, already knowing that the human didn't have much of an answer.

Amber looked nervous, rightfully so. There was so much pressure. What would he even begin with?

[plaest2k]

hey, im a young nz artist too and i like making comics/want to do something bigger when im older, and i think your stuff is genuinely so fucking cool. i love it so much. i was wondering how you pursued art after highschool, like did you go to art school? if so, where and what was that like, and if not, how’d you find the time to continue doing it? its always felt like my opportunities for a career in art specifically seem smaller living in nz, but idk your stuff inspires me to think otherwise. thank you :)

kia ora!!

thanks so much for asking, it's truly so flattering that a young nz artist would ask me for advice! <3 sadly i might not necessarily be the best person to ask...

First of all, it's been a loooooong time since i've been a young artist hahaha I'm 32. After high school, I studied architecture at university because, as you're probably aware, we don't really have art schools like our peers do overseas. But after studying for a few years, I had a major depressive episode and dropped out. After that, I ran away to Korea to teach english for a year before coming back to work in cafes for about 6 years. Back then I was pursuing a career in editorial illustration cause that's what all my favourite artists were doing but I didn't realise that it was a dying industry at the time and there weren't exactly lot of full-time professional artists here who could have warned me...

So after about 10 years of trying to piece together some kind of profession in illustration, I ended up looking for a tattoo apprenticeship which was looking pretty promising but my bosses turned out to be not-so-great people. I tried to keep tattooing on my own but that was around the time COVID hit which wasn't (and still isn't) great for a job that requires you meet face-to-face with a lot of people. So, since the pandemic began, I've just been subsisting off of jobseeker, chipping away at comics and the occasional illustration gig.

The whole experience had me perpetually burnt out for the past ~15 years and made me realise that art as a career really just shouldn't be a thing. Under capitalism, it requires either an embarrassing level of compromise, privilege or luck to pursue. All the household-name artists you know in NZ either come from privilege or got unbelievably lucky. I don't say this as a value judgment or anything, most of them are truly wonderful people, it's just what I've learned about them as colleagues who've worked together a few times over the years.

I don't fault anyone for wanting to pursue that, but if you want to make uncompromising art that makes you feel fulfilled, you can't stake your livelihood on it. Art is supposed to be a by-product of life well lived, not content to be sold.

It's why I'm making plans to go back to uni next year to switch careers into a cushy office job because, as you've observed, even if you still want to pursue this as a full-time career, opportunities for artists in Aotearoa is extremely limited.

Having said all that, there's still a lot of nuance to this whole thing that would take me too long to cover in a tumblr post, so if you'd like me to elaborate or anything or have more questions, you're more than welcome to contact me through my email: plaest2k@gmail.com!

And this offer extends to literally anyone who might be looking for advice or just wants to talk about art <3

Final thing: the thought of studying something else at college/ university and keeping your art as a hobby might sound bleak when you're young, but life is so much longer than you think. You might feel like you have limitless creativity and ideas at the moment but when it becomes your entire life, you burn through it all faster than you'd think. It's because you need fuel to inform what you make and you can't get that from just making art. Like I always say, art is a by-product of a life well lived; You need life-experiences; You need to love, hate, care, be hated and loved to make art and you can't do that if you're too busy to do any of that. Those 3 years you spend on a bachelors is nothing in comparison to a lifetime of staring at a blank page, agonizing over what to make next.

[madangel19]

Heyyy can a pwetty pwease have prompt 20: bath sex on the smut prompt list with dewdrop and mist (dew reciving maybe? 👀)

Love you, thank youuuuu

Ooo, I've never written Dewdrop and Mist together. This should be real interesting ;3

Summary: It's been a week since Dewdrop changed from water to fire and he refuses to go anywhere near water, especially when bathing. Mist decides to step up and help him.

Contains: Angst from Dewdrop transitioning from water to fire, handjob, anal sex, premature ejaculation, trans!Mist (she has a tentacle dick), Dewdrop being a very good boy for Mist

Word Count: 1283

“Let go of me! I don’t need a fucking bath!”

“It’s been a week, Dew. You need it.”

Dewdrop growled and tried to break free from the ghoulette, but she had an iron grip on his arm as she dragged him down the hall. There was no escaping her.

It had been an absolutely hellish week with him transitioning from water to fire and taking a bath was the last thing on his mind. He didn’t want anything to do with what he previously adored. He could just groom himself, but after a few days, he noticed a smell and so did his pack mates. No amount of grooming would get rid of that awful stench, but there was no way he was going anywhere near water. 

“I can’t take a bath, Mist. It’ll kill me,” Dewdrop whined, his hand glowing as he gripped Mist’s arm. Steam hissed where he touched her, but she still kept a tight grip on him, growling softly. 

“It won’t hurt you, Dew. I promise nothing bad is gonna happen,” the ghoulette grumbled as she pulled him into the bathroom where a bath was already made for him. 

A multitude of inviting smells filled the air as Dewdrop sniffed. He could pick up on lavender and sea salt. Smells that he always enjoyed during his time as a water ghoul. He took one look at the water that was a mix of lavender and icy blue and felt a multitude of conflicting emotions. A part of him wanted to just jump in and relax while another was screaming at him to stay away no matter what. He was fire now. Fire had to stay away from water, but he was water. No, he used to be water and now the clergy had him change. Thinking about this just made his head hurt.

“Now, are you gonna undress and get in or do I have to help you?” Mist said, placing her hands on her hips as she glared daggers at him. There was no use fighting her. If Aether were here, he would have more of an advantage over him. 

Dewdrop looked at the bath and then back at Mist and he groaned, grinding his teeth together as smoke curled from his mouth. There really was no way out of this…unless he got some kind of nice reward from the ghoulette.

“If I get in, will you…join me?” He asked, his tail beginning to wag behind him excitedly. 

Mist raised a brow at him before she smirked at him playfully. 

“Of course, Droplet. Someone’s gotta help you get nice and clean. Now, undress and get in the tub,” she ordered while unbuttoning her top and taking it off. Dewdrop couldn’t help but stare at her tits before he chirped and quickly began undressing. 

Once undressed, Dewdrop avoided looking at himself in the mirror before hesitantly stepping closer to the steaming bath. He wanted to scream and run, but if he was a good boy and got in, Mist would reward him.

“You can do this, Dew. You’ll feel much better when you’re clean,” Mist said, her voice softer. 

Dewdrop felt like he was about to burst into tears as he slowly dipped his glowing claws into the water. Steam curled up into the air with a hiss, the water bubbling around his claws. It was an odd sensation. Dewdrop cocked his head at the reaction. A part of him wanted to see more. 

“You’re doing so good, Dew. Get in,” Mist said, rubbing his back with cool fingers. 

Dewdrop took a deep breath and exhaled, blowing a smoke ring into the air before slowly stepping into the bath. The water bubbled and hissed around him as he slid into the hot water. It was perfect. He had no idea it would feel this good.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, looking up at Mist who smiled down at him proudly. She was naked. So very very naked.

“I knew you could do it, Droplet. Is it nice and warm?” She asked, stepping closer and dipping a claw into the water. 

“Sure is. Can…Can you join me now?” Dewdrop asked, his whole body growing warm as he thought of how he would reward her for being such a good boy.

“Of course, Droplet,” Mist purred, stepping into the bath and sinking in with a happy chirp. 

The ghoulette submerged herself entirely before rising from the lavender-blue water, her dark hair pooling around her. Dewdrop couldn’t stop himself from staring at her again. It had been so long since they had swam together. He missed this. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up now. C’mere,” Mist crowed, grabbing several bottles of shampoo and body wash. Dewdrop frowned. He always hated this part of bathing, but he had to be good for her. 

Dewdrop moved closer to her and turned around once he was in the right position. He wasn’t going to let her see his sour expression while she cleaned him. Mist made quick work of washing his hair and his body. Dewdrop only closed his eyes, thinking of his nice reward once he was able to get through this. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Mist ran her cool fingers along his belly. They were going lower and lower, making him shiver softly as the ghoulette pulled him closer to her body. He could feel her tentacle slither out from her slit. Mist moved her hips, letting it press against his back as her fingers went lower.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me, Droplet. You did so good getting into the bath and now you’re all clean,” she whispered in his ear while caressing his already erect cock. Dewdrop bit his lip, tears of pleasure welling up in his eyes. This all felt amazing. Beyond amazing due to the heat building up within him. 

Sure, he loved fucking Aether, but fucking Mist was just as amazing, especially when he was still a water ghoul. Fucking her could be even better with his change. 

“Thank you, Mist. I…I really appreciate you…helping me,” Dewdrop murmured.

The ghoulette chuckled as she wrapped her claws around his cock while hugging him with her free arm. 

“You’re welcome, Droplet. You may be a stubborn little shit, but you got nothing against me,” Mist crowed, kissing along his shoulder while slowly jerking him off. Dewdrop would have objected, but he wanted his reward now. He moved his neck, giving the ghoulette more access to his sensitive flesh. Mist ran her tongue along the scars where his gills used to be and he shivered at the strange sensation. It was going to take getting used to. 

Mist’s tentacle continued prodding at his back, searching for his hole. He had missed feeling that slimy tentacle inside him. 

“She wants you, Dew. Poor thing has missed you so much,” Mist purred, letting go of Dew’s cock. 

Dewdrop nodded and took a moment to position himself over Mist’s tentacle. He could see it reaching up to him from within the water, beckoning him to come back. He certainly wasn’t going to disappoint her as he lowered himself onto the tentacle, moaning as it slid into him with ease.

“Good boy,” Mist moaned, wrapping her arms around his middle while pushing her full length into him. The water bubbled and hissed around them, creating a thick mist that enveloped the room. Fuck, this was good. 

Dewdrop felt Mist’s teeth on his neck and he cried out when he suddenly came, spilling his seed into the water and making it all the murkier. The ghoulette slowed down, chuckling darkly against his neck when she noticed what had happened.

“Still so easy to melt. Adorable.”

[blackenedsnow]

Trans reader x Beej? 🙏 I love reading your work, btw! 😊

ghost light

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Transgender! Reader

NOTE: Hey!! Thank you so much, this one’s got a big chunk of heart <3 I actually got some help from a trans friend to make this as real as possible. I love hearing from you all, so don’t hesitate to send more asks or thoughts <3

SUMMARY: It’s a weird thing being with Beetlejuice, but it’s also the most fun you've ever had. He makes you feel like yourself in a way no one else does – loud, strange, and totally alive.

There’s something about Beetlejuice that just feels right, in the loudest, strangest way possible. Even on the bad days, when you don’t quite feel like you fit into your own skin, he’s there with that wild grin and endless antics, making you feel like you could belong somewhere. It’s not that he really gets it – you're not even sure he really understands half of what you tell him about yourself, your past, the weirdness of figuring out who you are. But he listens, sort of, as best as Beetlejuice can.

“Wait, you mean to tell me you got a whole… thing with your body?” he says, scratching his scraggly chin with this exaggerated look on his face, like he’s really thinking hard about it. “That’s gotta be a real trip. Personally, I think you’re lucky – I don’t even have skin problems. Or organs. Or haircare needs!"

You laugh because that’s the thing with him. He has this gift of making everything feel like one big, surreal joke – but not in a dismissive way. It’s like he’s lifting the weight right off your shoulders, letting you laugh at yourself in the best possible way.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being you?” You ask, half-joking, half-curious.

He looks at you with these glowing eyes, brows wiggling in a way that’s simultaneously ridiculous and, well, somehow...charming. “Oh, honey, being me is the best gig in the Underworld! And you? You’re pretty good at being you, too, y’know?”

You roll your eyes, feeling that warmth bloom in your chest, the way he can just make everything feel like it’s already okay. And even though his teeth are gross and he’s grinning a little too wide, you believe him.

It’s like he understands the parts of you - you sometimes try to hide – the doubts, the days where you wonder if anyone will really see you the way you are. But with Beetlejuice, you feel seen in a way you never have before, like your weirdness fits perfectly with his own.

“You think I’m good at it?” You say, trying to keep your tone casual. “What’s my thing then? Just…being, I dunno, strange?”

He throws his hands up, a look of mock offense on his face. “Strange? You’re one-of-a-kind, babe. An original! If there was a pageant, I’d parade ya around like a prize! You’re the whole package!”

It’s over-the-top, ridiculous even. But it makes you laugh.

It’s not all fun and games, though. Sometimes, when you're alone, he’ll look at you in this quiet way, without the show or the wild grin. It’s rare, but it’s there – like he really, actually cares. And maybe that’s why you stick around. You think, in his own odd way, he sees you, all of you, even the messy, uncertain parts. And he loves you for it.

One night, you're lying on the creaky old bed in his little corner of the Netherworld, and he’s uncharacteristically quiet. You're lying there beside him, feeling his gaze on you, intense and curious, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“So, what’s the deal with you wanting to change so much?” he asks, in this genuinely curious way, like it’s just a passing thought. Beetlejuice is hundreds of years old, you have to explain a lot to him. “I mean, you’re pretty great as you are, kid. And trust me, I’ve been around long enough to know greatness when I see it.”

You smile, looking down at your hands, feeling a little of that doubt creeping back in. “It’s…complicated. Sometimes, I just don’t feel right in my own skin, like it doesn’t really match, y’know?”

He nods, though you're not sure he fully understands. But it’s the fact that he wants to that makes it matter.

“Look,” he says, leaning over so close that you can see the glint in his eyes, “whatever skin you’re in, I think it’s damn near perfect. Got it?” He grins, flashing those nasty teeth again, but there’s a warmth to it that makes your chest ache.

He pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you let yourself relax into his embrace. You let yourself believe him – even if just for a moment – because in this strange corner of the world, you're exactly who you need to be.