#I really want to know how the baby bottle is supposed to fit in this context

[pickedpiper]

Ok this is very random and old news but I’m rewatching some videos on myhouse.wad and had been reading some posts about it mostly the ones that talked about how it can be interpreted as a queer horror story of Thomas and Steven, there’s a lot of obvious context that fits the story but there’s one thing that I’m wondering about.

The baby bottle.

Almost every other item you collect in My House are relics that Steven shared with Tom, the most notable item is a wedding ring which is very clear it can be that Steve and Tom were married, in the airport section you go into the women’s restroom where it becomes covered in blood then you pick up the pills and leave but the sign changes to the men’s restroom but this also makes sense if you believe that either Steve or Tom were trans or questioning their gender identity. These can easily fit into the thematics of Steve and Tom being lgbt.

But the one thing that I haven’t really seen mentioned with this theory is how the baby bottle fits into this. When you go into the attic there’s a crib with a baby bottle in it, when you pick it up it says “it wasn’t meant to be” which sounds a lot like a miscarriage or at least some form of child loss. Not to mention how one of Steven’s diary entries talks about a dream he had where he saw a baby in the crib but it wasn’t doing so well and cried which made him freak out and wake up.

Now what I’m wondering is did Steve and Tom have a child that they adopted? Did Steve used to be married to a woman and she miscarried? I know people don’t care about this mod anymore but for like the 2 people left can anyone please give me their thoughts about what the bottle could mean?

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 

he can’t be serious. 

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly. 

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 

but no — he wanted you to wear it. 

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 

”— because you love me?” 

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh. 

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 

it’s a perfect fit. 

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

 ”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses. 

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer. 

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 

”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 

he’s completely stunned. 

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens. 

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted. 

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters. 

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying. 

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink. 

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!” 

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

[etherealising]

one | christmas (baby please come home)

pairing(s): carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | fem!reader x original male character | the bear x fem!reader

synopsis: you reunite with carmy at the berzatto family christmas, five years after your falling out.

warning(s): angst | fluff | pining | semi-unrequited love | minimally edited

wc: 7.8k

READER HAS A NICKNAME BUT OTHERWISE AMBIGUOUS

A quiet Christmas playlist drifted through the confines of the house as three friends sat gathered around the kitchen table spending much-needed time together catching up while building gingerbread houses, the various glasses of wine shared between the three of them lowering their inhibitions. 

“Baby! You’re not even looking at the camera.” Natalie’s slurred words caused a fit of giggles to spill out of you as you held up your dilapidated gingerbread house whatever artistic skills you possessed washed away with all the wine swishing through your bloodstream. 

You positioned yourself once more smiling at Nat’s phone as you held the slowly crumbling house, Pete instinctively leaned over to join you for the photo only for his reindeer antler headband to poke you in the eye. Both of you fell into a fit of hysterics as Nat giggled behind her phone most likely snapping blurry photos. 

None of you could be sure how you’d gotten to the point of being wine-drunk on Christmas Eve. The celebrations began when Nat and Pete picked you up from the airport earlier that morning, the three of you deciding on a quiet night in with a home-cooked meal, followed by a night of Christmas festivities courtesy of Pete which you could never turn down especially when seeing how excited he always got. You remembered Natalie listing off her worries for tomorrow’s dinner as she poured the three of you wine, that first glass somehow turned into two empty wine bottles in no time as the three of you enjoyed each other’s company. 

“Wait, wait we’ve got to get a picture in our matching pjs!” Pete was by far the most sober of the three of you and that was probably how he won the game of rock, paper, scissors that forced you into wearing the set of Christmas pajamas he bought you that were a replica of the ones he and Nat currently had on.

You shook your head immediately, not wanting any more photo evidence of this night, especially knowing Nat was probably sending these pictures to Mikey who would most definitely never let you live down matching with the married couple. “I think we have more than enough pictures.” The words felt heavy as they rolled around on your tongue and you couldn't help but giggle at how slow you felt like you were speaking.

Nat moved around the table to your side wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned her chin against your shoulder and her cheek pressed into yours. “Pretty please Baby, we only get to do fun things like this a couple times a year when you visit.” She moved her face away to give what you assumed were supposed to be puppy dog eyes but was really just her concentrating extremely hard. “If you love me you’ll do it.” 

You rolled your eyes pretending to be put out by the married couple, not wanting them to know just how much fun you were actually having. While you were thankful for your success and the career you built up for yourself, that meant that you spent the majority of your time traveling and working, and while it was nice to see the world, sometimes you wished you could take more than a quick beat for visits like these. You hadn’t visited Chicago as much as you would’ve liked since moving to the West Coast, which meant you saw less and less of the family that made you one of their own all those years ago. You watched as Nat and Pete struggled to set up the phone in the living room for the group photo, giggling at how they seemed to feed off of each other as though they shared a single brain cell between the two of them.

Nat waved you over once they got the phone set up, “Oh! We should do like one of those awkward photo shoots.” 

You groaned, shaking your head back and forth while Pete stood next to you aggressively nodding his head in approval, the two of them were so goofy together you’re unsure why you ever thought you’d have an actual choice in how this unprofessional impromptu photo shoot was going to go. While you may’ve been inebriated that didn’t mean you were on board with every decision the two were making, but you also loved them too much to tell them no, and as you watched them excitedly try to figure out what pose to go with you figured you could feed into their inherent goofiness just this once in the spirit of Christmas.

Carmy stood in the kitchen of his childhood home watching as his mom prepared for Christmas dinner the following day, vehemently refusing any help when he offered it up but forcing him to keep her company and recount all of his culinary adventures as she worked.

He watched his mom move around the kitchen in an organized frenzy, talking to herself at points when she listed off what needed to be done next. Carmy could already see the weight of the looming festivities hanging heavy over her head, stressing her out before the day even began. While he understood and appreciated her love for food and cooking probably more than anyone considering she fostered that same love and appreciation within him when it came to the culinary arts, he always wondered why she insisted on cooking family dinner every year if it always ended in a mess.

“Oh fuck me!” The loud expletive forced Carmy from the recesses of his mind as he stared in his mother’s direction. “Carm honey, do me a favor and finish decorating the fireplace, the box of decorations is already out there.” 

Carmy stood there a minute longer trying to compute the fact that his culinary excellence was being disregarded and he was being put on decorating duty, “Carmen. Can you do it or do I have to do every fucking thing myself?” 

“No, uh yeah I got it.” He met his mother’s eyes nodding his head up and down in acquiesce, to let her know he had it under control.

She shooed him out of the kitchen returning to her food prep before he even made to move to the living room. Carmy quickly found the box of decorations exactly where his mom said it would be, the house was abnormally quiet he assumed Mikey was at The Beef but he couldn’t be sure he had no need to be near the sandwich shop at the moment and Sug moved out ages ago so here he was stuck in his childhood home with nothing better to do than decorate the fireplace mantle.

Carmy knew however he decorated the mantle his mom would just come behind him and fix it to her liking, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. Maybe if he got it close enough to how she liked she would have to do less fixing. He was surprised to find how calming decorating the mantle was, but maybe that was only because he didn’t care to impress anyone with his subpar decorating skills.

Reaching into the box Carmy pulled out the stockings each one designated to one of the Berzatto siblings. He easily hung the stockings onto the hooks on the mantle before reaching in for the last one, embroidered with a name he was sure he hadn’t seen in far too long a time. Carmy was foolish to think that because he ruined the friendship between the two of you that his family would disregard your whole existence over his mistakes. 

Carmy remembered how hard he tried for the first couple of months after he’d left to get into contact with you, to try and let you know just how sorry he was and how much he missed your friendship…missed you. If you ever gave him the chance, he was sure he’d spend his whole life apologizing for that moment. 

That night would haunt him forever, and his mind made sure of it, the worst moment of his life was on a constant loop anytime he got a moment of calm and quiet. Which wasn’t often but they happened enough for the hurt and pain on your face from that night to be permanently seared into his mind. And when it wasn’t memories of the way the moonlight illuminated the tears running down your face from that night, it was the overwhelming guilt that weighed on him for ever speaking to you that way.

Carmy’s hand traced across the embroidered thread of your name as though passing over it enough times would permanently thread the letters into his skin. He hesitated, unsure if they still hung the stocking long after you moved, a moment passed before he decided he would hang it if only just to catch a glimpse of something that reminded him of you. Carmy maneuvered the other stockings around in order to make space for yours trying to ignore the warmth that filled his chest at the sight of your name hanging directly next to his. 

He was pulled from his daze as his phone vibrated multiple times in rapid succession, he pulled the device out of his back pocket unsurprised to find Nat blowing up the sibling's group chat, plus Richie courtesy of Mikey. He was ready to shove the phone back in his pocket when a message coming through from Richie caught his eye, his heart sped up a bit as he read it before it disappeared off of his screen. 

Carmy was positive he had never opened the sibling's group chat as fast as he did at that moment. Opening the text chain he frowned at the assortment of pictures above Richie’s message doing his best to figure out what the hell he was looking at. The first few pictures were of Pete and Nat and as much as he loved his sister he wasn’t interested in seeing either of them. His thumb began swiping through the photos rapidly unsure why anyone would take so many photos of the same things over and over again. Carmy found himself stopping on one picture in particular, a picture that was neither Sug nor Pete, but presumably, the person who took the previous pictures of the couple. 

There you were. 

Smiling so wide it almost looked painful, a glow to your skin that made Carmy unsure if it was from the phone camera or if you were actually glowing. The picture was blurry but for the most part, he could make out your features, he would recognize you anywhere even after all the time spent apart he would be able to pick you out of a crowd with no trouble at all. That’s how deeply you were ingrained into his brain even if the last time he saw you was when you were a fresh high school graduate.

He scrolled once more the side of his lips ticking up at the same photo this time just a lot clearer, he absentmindedly saved the photo to his phone before resuming his viewing. Carmy’s eyes were always drawn to you when you were in any of the photos, at some point he began disregarding Sug and Pete entirely, giving you his full attention. He couldn’t help the quiet chuckle as he scrolled through all the shenanigans the three of you got up to saving another individual shot of you in front of the Christmas tree in Christmas-themed pajamas with matching socks and a headband with two candy canes in the shape of a heart. The sight of you smiling directly at the camera made it seem as though you were looking directly at him, a blush rose to Carmy’s cheeks at how pathetic it was for him to get so worked up over a few photos of you. He looked at the last photo a moment longer before realization dawned on him, his eyes quickly shot from his phone screen to the stocking he hung up. 

Carmy scrolled through the recently sent messages he missed after staring at the pictures of you so long gathering enough information to confirm his suspicions. He quickly turned on his heel before heading back into the kitchen.

“Yo ma,” she gave a distracted hum which was enough for him to begin his line of questioning. “Is uh…does Baby still come to family Christmas?” 

The older woman stopped what she was doing turning to face her youngest son with the most egregious ‘are you fucking stupid’ look Carmy received in a while. “Do I bust my ass every year preparing seven fishes that nobody ever fucking appreciates or eats?” 

Carmy was unsure if it was a trick question but as his mom raised her eyebrows awaiting an answer he realized there in fact was a right answer, “Yes?”

She shook her head looking him up and down as if he were a stranger “I don’t know what’s gotten into you Carmen, it’s like you're from a whole different fucking planet. Of course, the girl comes to Christmas, we're the only family she’s got left.” She stopped speaking to pull out the pack of cigarettes she kept on her slipping one between her lips before speaking around it. “And you would fuckin’ know that if you came home once in a while Bear.” 

Carmy nodded his head ignoring the last sentence as he let the information settle in, he would be seeing you face to face for the first time since high school, and the two of you would be in the same for hourse. He took his chance to slip out of the kitchen as his mother turned back to finish her prepping. He needed some time to himself to try not to work himself into a frenzy as he thought about what tomorrow would bring.

The Berzatto family home looked exactly as you left it all those years ago, the only noticeable difference was the Christmas decorations but other than that it was still your bonus home, the home you spent as much if not more time in than your own home. 

The home you grew up in sat just right across the street, a family of three began renting it a year after you left for college and although it was weird to think that another family was living in the home that would always hold a piece of you, you were just happy to rent it out to a loving family. You’d try to find the time and bring them a goodie basket or something, you always sent holiday cards, but now that you were in town you could meet them properly. 

You stood at the trunk of your rental car staring at the array of wrapped presents trying to decide if you should bring them all in now or just wait. Your eyes fell on the matte black sleek box, the last-minute gift cost more than it would’ve if you bought it ahead of time, you bit your lip the longer you stared at it only now feeling uncertain about the unwarranted gift.

“You sure you’re up for this?” The voice came from your side, Hayden leaned against the car as he watched you stare at the box as though it personally wronged you.

A small sigh escaped you as you turned to face him, arms crossing over your chest “Not really, no but I come home every Christmas and I can’t stop just because he happens to be in town.” Hayden looked at you like he knew you were lying but decided against mentioning it. “Thanks for coming with me by the way, I know it was last minute…how you holding up?”

Hayden shrugged before looking straight ahead, “Well my best friend has been sleeping with my wife for the better part of a year, and said wife served me divorce papers two days before Christmas so.” His voice trailed off as he gave you a sarcastic smile. “But I would say you’re having a worse day than me so it makes me feel a bit better.”

You frowned, not entirely understanding what he was getting at, causing him to roll his eyes, “Oh c’mon Baby, the kid you’ve been in love with our whole lives is home for Christmas, the two of you never even dated mind you. He broke your heart years ago and for some reason, you’re still in love with the idiot but won’t pick up the phone to tell him, and all of your relationships have failed because you’re too stuck living in the past.”

“I should’ve left your ass at home wallowing in self-pity.” 

Hayden’s lips pulled into a sardonic smile as he tipped his head to you. “Well now we can wallow in self-pity together, you can stay out here in the cold looking at that stupid box, but I’ll be in that warm house drinking all of Miss Berzatto’s good liquor.” 

The front door opening drew both of your attention, your heads swiveled to watch Mikey exit the house and begin making his way to you, a frown lined his face as his eyes landed on Hayden by your side confused at the extra guest you brought with you.

“Why the fuck are the two of you standing out here in the cold.” Mikey’s gruff voice felt like a balm for the doubt that was beginning to eat away at you from Hayden’s unwelcome reality check.

Hayden moved quicker than you anticipated, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. “Oh you know just reminding our girl here that love sucks and it's all a fucking illusion because no matter how much you love someone they’ll always end up fucking your pseudo brother.” 

Mikey’s confusion was evident as his eyebrows pinched together even more, his eyes darted between the two of you mouth opening to speak only to quickly close as you shook your head back and forth as subtly as possible.

“Hey, is your mom drinking yet?” Hayden’s question earned a hesitant nod from Mikey who was unsure if providing her a drinking partner was the best thing to do. “Great…great, well merry fucking Christmas!” Hayden pressed a gentle kiss into your temple before moving to head into the house, clapping Mikey on the shoulder as he went by. 

Mikey moved to stand next to you, the both of you watching the train wreck of a man head into the Berzatto household. “What the fuck is up with that kid?” Mikey turned to look at you trying to figure out exactly what kind of mess you brought to family Christmas.

“Sasha’s leaving him.” You watched as understanding washed over Mikey’s face a small nod following as he put two and two together at Hayden’s weirder-than-usual behavior. Mikey opened his mouth to give you shit about bringing the insufferable kid with you only stopping as you spoke over him. “He’s good people, Mikey, I just didn’t want him alone on Christmas.”

Mikey didn’t have an argument for that. As irritating as Hayden could be he found himself indifferent towards the kid you called friend. Mikey was loathed to admit it and he would deny it if anyone ever asked him, but he had a secret appreciation for the kid, Hayden was there for you during a tough time in your life, he was there for you when you needed a friend or someone in your corner who wasn’t directly connected to the youngest Berzatto and for that, Mikey respected the kid, but it's not like he’d ever tell you or him that. 

“Let me look at you,” Mikey’s voice broke through the quiet that had settled over the two of you, your eyes flashed to his face taking in the facial hair he'd decided to grow out. “All fucking grown up ain’t you. Can we still call you Baby or you too grown for that shit now?” 

You rolled your eyes at the joke Mikey made every time you came home before turning and grabbing your bag from where you sat it in the trunk, leaving the gifts behind and moving to walk towards the house with Mikey, “As much as I regret the nickname I’m not sure if I could get used to hearing you all call me by my first name again.” 

Mikey chuckled at your words, hand moving out to grab your elbow and stop you from continuing ahead. “Relax out here with me for a bit yeah?”

A frown lined your face as Mikey stopped in front of you, you could tell he had ulterior motives for stopping you, his hand moving to take the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket before lifting it to his mouth and lighting it. 

“You uh, you know your little boyfriends in that house right?” 

Your nose scrunched up at Mikey’s words, you could hear the teasing tone in his voice as he spoke but that didn’t mean his words didn’t make your chest ache. Of course, you knew he was here, but not until a week after you booked your flight and Nat gave you some bullshit excuse about how she just didn’t know he was coming home for Christmas. You were upset with her and rightfully so but Pete somehow still talked you into coming and so here you were pretending like seeing Carmy after so long didn’t matter, pretending like you hadn’t teared up on the drive over with your face turned to the window as Hayden drove, quietly reliving every vile word Carmy spewed at you that night in your head. Pretending as though you didn’t carry his words along with the hurt they caused within you for years like they didn’t change the way you viewed yourself and took up space in other people’s lives, maybe Hayden’s observation about you carrying the past around was more factual than you once thought. 

And it didn’t matter that he tried getting back in contact with you his first year in California or that he sent flowers and a card when your mom passed saying he’d come home if you needed him to. None of it mattered because it would never make up for the underlying truth in his cold, cruel words from all those years ago.  

Mikey’s eyes darted around your face watching the small changes in your expression knowing you were thinking about the past, his cigarette halfway gone as he lost you to the inner workings of your mind. He took another puff before letting it fall from his fingertips and stomping it out, the tears lining your eyes forced him to move faster as he tucked you into his chest listening to you struggle to breathe as you fought to keep the sobs from wracking through your body.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. You can leave right now if you need to and no one has to know you were here.” His hand raised to stroke your head as he gently rocked the two of you back and forth. “Hayden will understand.” 

You pressed your forehead into his chest as you willed yourself to calm down not wanting to make it obvious you’d been crying once the two of you made your way inside although it was probably already too late for that. 

“Why does it still hurt Mikey?”

A deep sigh raised the older man's chest at your words, his hands fell to your biceps gently pulling you away from him. The look Mikey gave you said it all, a look that forced you to face a truth you’d been running from for the past five years. Creating a new life and pretending as though whatever misguided feelings you held towards Carmy were just that of a childhood crush. 

It still hurt because you never stopped loving him.

You were thankful Mikey didn’t speak the words aloud unlike Hayden, you’d already been lectured by him countless times on this subject, Richie even jumped in from time to time to express his discontent. No one could understand why you held onto your feelings for Carmy so strongly knowing firsthand how much pain and anguish they caused you. You were scolded plenty of times about holding onto all that hurt, being told to either let it all go or talk to Carmy. You couldn’t bring yourself to do either of those things. 

But you couldn’t keep living in your head and feeding into the fairytale of you and Carmy forever. You had to move on with your life at some point, and even though Hayden was correct that one moment from your past kept ruining your future, at this point, you were doing it to yourself. Although it was painful and it took some time, the broken record of Carmy’s words from that night five years ago made it just a bit easier. 

“Baby,” Mikey paused on his words trying to find the right thing to say he felt torn every time this topic came up. You were a little sister to him, he viewed you in the same way he viewed Nat. He wanted the best for you, but this wasn’t it and the both of you knew it. 

“Why are you doing this to yourself? I’m not saying you should forgive Carm m’ just sayin’ holdin’ on to all this hurt isn’t doing you any good.” He watched as you looked away from him, the realization clear on your face, Mikey could read you so well he knew you were tired of carrying the grief of that dead friendship around with you. His hands reached out to cup your face the rough pads of his thumb tenderly caressing your squished cheeks. “You’re finally in the same place after all this time, figure this shit out for both of your sakes.” 

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips as you fought the urge to come up with some lame excuse as to why now wasn’t the right time, but there’d never be a right time for the two of you. 

You wrapped your arms around Mikey’s waist once more needing the warm strong bear hugs he always provided to help calm yourself down enough to be prepared to face everyone, but also to signal you were done with this conversation entirely. You pulled out of Mikey’s grip as he gave you a look seemingly asking if you were okay, you nodded in answer, relaxing into him as he pressed a gentle kiss onto the skin of your forehead.

“Alright, let's get you inside before mom comes out here and cusses me out for keeping you in the cold.” Mikey’s hands rubbed up and down your arms to provide you with the much-needed body heat.

A genuine laugh left your lips knowing Mikey’s words were closer to the truth than one might think. Mikey moved to turn around and begin walking to the door but was forced to stop as you reached out to grab his hand. “I uh, I got you something.” 

His eyebrows raised in question, “Awe you didn’t have to get me nothin’.” You rolled your eyes rummaging through your bag for the two presents and holding them out to him once you found them, chuckling as you watched him place his hands over his heart mockingly. You knew Mikey didn’t do well when it came to sentimental moments and the best you would get out of him was a joke as opposed to anything else. 

You smiled holding the heavier of the gifts out to him first, “I wanted to Mikey, don’t think of this as a gift, think of it uhh…as a show of appreciation yeah?” You nodded, feeling your face warm as you let your eyes dart around so you didn’t have to watch his reaction.

Mikey smiled, finding your shyness endearing before tearing into the neatly wrapped paper and revealing a frame, his hands engulfed it from end to end. He smiled at it before you saw confusion etch across his face, “This is great Baby, yeah but uh what the fuck am I looking at?”

You shoved his shoulder before laughing at him and grabbing the frame out of his hands holding it in front of your chest, the glass facing him so he could still see its contents, “It's a trademark certification you dumbass, can’t you fucking read Mikey.” You joked to try and underestimate how big of a gift this was.

Mikey’s brows furrowed before he snatched the frame out of your hands to get a better look at the certificate sitting behind the glass, eyes snapping back up to your face with a look you couldn’t read. You shuffled your feet feeling like you overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know was between you and Mikey, “Don’t worry though I-I, put it in your name, I didn’t trademark it for myself or anything. I just remember how much you all used to talk about this, and I'm not sure if it's something you still want but I…I just wanted you to know I still believe in you. And I…I know how tough shit is lately and I promise I didn’t mean to step on your toes but…Mikey, you deserve good things too okay?” 

You could hear your long-winded explanation become more emotional by the minute but you needed Mikey to know how loved and appreciated he was. He was a big brother to you, always by your side whenever you needed him, he saw you through all the bullshit with Carmy and helped you to get through your mom's death. And when you were hellbent on throwing whatever little future you didn’t think you had left away he was right there with you pushing you to see just how much you deserved to get out of this godforsaken city and make something of yourself. 

“You deserve so much in this world Mikey, and I wish I could give it to you. But you need to know how much I believe in you and how much I love you, I’m always in your corner,” you paused trying to choke back another round of tears. “And Mikey I…I don’t think I would be here right now if it wasn’t for y-.” 

Before you could get another word out you were once again trapped in his comforting embrace, the both of you taking every bit of love and comfort the other offered in that moment. Mikey’s head tucked into your neck as you felt his uneasy breathing through your hands clutched around him. He wasn’t the type to get emotional in front of other people, and feeling a tear of his smear against your cheek as he raised his head from your neck and settled his bearded cheek against yours, you weren’t sure if you had done the right thing by giving him the gift or not.

The two of you stood in silence as you allowed Mikey to have this moment, not wanting to make him feel insecure about you being present while his emotions ran high. When he finally pulled away you could see the leftover sheen in his eyes. He tucked the framed certificate under his arm as both his hands reached up to grab your face, his eyes found yours, 

“Thank you, Baby,” the words were spoken so quietly you were surprised you caught onto them a small imperceptible nod of your head directed at him as you gave him a tearful smile. Mikey placed a kiss on your forehead before he grabbed the frame again and wrapped you in another hug. 

You decided it best to leave the biography you finally wrote, printed, and compiled about him after all these years in his room, wanting him to be able to experience it in private so he could indulge in whatever feelings it brought forth. 

Mikey’s head sat atop yours as your face rested against his chest, ear listening to the rhythm of his beating heart. The hug you shared with Mikey in that moment felt heavier than any other time you had the pleasure of being held in his arms. You’d be remiss not to notice but chose instead not to bring it up to him and enjoy the moment for what it was.

A moment of peace.

30 minutes passed since Michael escaped the house to do whatever the fuck it was he was doing outside. Carmy didn’t know and in all honesty, he didn’t actually give a shit either, too busy helping their mom out in the kitchen to try to give any thoughts to whatever grabbed Mikey’s attention. 

He was focused in the corner of the kitchen making Tiff Sprite to help alleviate her nausea symptoms. Anyone else would have done their best to block out the rambunctious noises going on throughout the house, but not Carmy though, the chaos fueled him, it grounded him. If the house was quiet it would have been too much for him, to be alone with his own thoughts ping-ponging around in his head, waiting for a chance to drown him. So if he had to listen to his mom list off a plethora of things he needed to make sure happened for Christmas dinner to go off without a hitch while he was making Sprite from scratch, he welcomed it. 

He finished his concoction just in time for Richie to walk through the kitchen, the older man trying to figure out how the fuck it was even possible to make Sprite from scratch. Gratefully taking the glass Carmy offered to him marveling at the carbonated drink in his hand.

Carmy nodded in his direction, “Yo Cousin, where the fuck is Mikey. He just fucking disappeared.” Carmy’s head swiveled around the kitchen checking whether his brother was there or not, coming up empty in his search. Richie glanced up before settling his eyes back on the drink in his hand still doing the mental math to wrap his head around what the fuck Carmy just made.

Richie jutted his head in the direction of the front door, “Outside talking to Baby.” His eyes finally focused on Carmy’s in time to see the color drain from his face at the older man’s words, the younger of the two looking as nauseous as the pregnant woman upstairs. Although he knew you were in town he’d gotten so sucked into the chaotic energy of everything that his mind hadn’t given him any time to overthink seeing you all these years later and if he knew Mikey was outside with you he would’ve made sure he was nowhere in the vicinity of your entrance, not because he didn’t want to see you or be around you but because after all these years he still had no idea how to admit every feeling he kept bottled up and tucked away from you. 

“Did you not know she was coming? Your moms invites her to every holiday, Cousin, and she comes every time.” Richie knew the last bit wasn’t necessary but felt Carmy rightfully deserved it, all anyone wanted from the youngest Berzatto was a visit.

“Dudes been out there for fucking ever though, those two idiots probably just standing outside like a bunch of fucking jagoffs.” Richie left the kitchen not waiting for Carmy to follow him before heading to the front door. He stopped moving the curtain on one of the side windows to spot two of the people he considered family and a surprise plus one. He let out a low whistle nudging Carmy’s shoulder who finally joined his side nodding his head to the window. 

“Awe and she brought her little boyfriend with her.” Richie’s words bounced through Carmy’s head like a game of pinball. You were seeing somebody? Carmy unceremoniously shoved Richie out of the way to get a glimpse of his own out the window, the older man did his best to hold in his laughter. 

Carmy looked out the window just in time to see you snuggly pressed into another man’s side, his brain working overtime to figure out who it was before he watched the man lean in and press a soft kiss into the side of your head causing Carmy’s stomach to sink. 

“When did they start dating?” Before Carmy could stop himself the question was out in the open, his voice sounded less curious and more annoyed than it should have. 

Richie knew what he was about to do next would probably get him into a load of shit but he couldn’t help but want to fuck with Carmy, would you beat his ass for it later, probably but that wasn’t gonna stop him from having his fun. 

“Ohh shit, nobody told you, Cousin?” Richie did his best to sound sad as he spoke, fighting to keep his face neutral as Carmy turned to look at him. “Listen, I don't think it's my place to tell you.” Richie raised his free hand and the cup up in defense.

Carmy could feel his heart speed up the longer he looked at Richie, “Told me what?” An apologetic look washed over Richie’s face twisting the feeling of despair deeper into Carmy’s chest. “Told me fucking what Richie?” He did his best not to scream in the man’s face but the longer Richie stayed silent the more Carmy was sure he was going to have a breakdown. 

“Carm…she’s,” Richie paused suddenly realizing that maybe this joke wasn’t as funny as he first thought it once was but he was in too deep now. “Baby’s married.” 

The tightness in Carmy’s chest intensified tenfold as his eyes traced Richie’s face for any inkling that he was lying. He could feel his palms becoming clammy as he tried to comprehend the truth bomb Richie just dropped on him. When did you get married? Why didn’t he know? 

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he already knew the answer to that last question. You didn’t want him to know, the two of you weren’t those same kids from five years ago. There was no more sharing everything that happened in your lives with one another and Carmy only had himself to thank for that. 

“Don't fսck with me right now Richie.” Carmy was doing his best to hold onto whatever was left of his resolve not knowing if he could realistically spend his first Christmas home in years watching you be happy with some other man. 

Before the older man could admit to his fallacy the door swung open, the man in question walking through the door. 

“Yo, Richie how you been man? Tiff trynna kill you yet?” His voice drifted through the foyer as he shrugged out of his jacket while Carmy forced himself to turn around making eye contact with the man only receiving an indifferent look in return. “Carmen, good to see you home dude.” 

It took Carmy a moment to realize he knew the man standing in front of him, Hayden Ivanovski was always more your friend than he was Carmy’s but the two of them got along decently enough for your sake. Carmy’s eyes flitted down to the hand stretched out in his direction, quickly latching onto the gold band wrapped around his ring finger, the truth of the situation settled heavily inside of him as he shook Hayden’s hand.

“Yeah uh, good to be back.” Carmy restrained himself from physically massaging out the ache in his chest as he stood in front of the man who succeeded where he couldn’t. He let Hayden’s hand go, tuning out the conversation between Richie and Hayden as he lost himself to the overwhelming thoughts swimming through his head moving to stand just outside of the kitchen as he leaned against the wall. There was no doubt about it, you were married, and those hateful words Carmy spewed at you in the backyard of his family home five years ago probably only helped to push you into Hayden’s embrace. 

Carmy heard you before he saw you. He’d been so lost in his self-deprecating thoughts that he hadn’t heard the door open again. 

All of these years, all the skipped holidays, and Carmy was missing out on you. The sight of you standing in his family home helped to calm his racing heart but then he watched as Hayden pulled you into his side, the two of you looking like a picture of love as the man leaned in placing one more kiss to your temple, conveniently staring Carmy down from across the foyer. 

Carmy dropped his gaze from Hayden before focusing on you once more, the tension seemed to just bleed right out of him as he watched you glow in happiness even if caused by someone else. He was so caught up in his staring that he hadn’t realized the way Mikey glanced at him, eyebrows raised like he was waiting for Carmy to make a move he hadn’t prepared for and didn’t even know he could still make. 

He’d be lying if he said the years apart made him forget what you looked like. You were still the same girl he left in Chicago all those years ago except the wand of maturity worked its magic on you, and in his opinion he thought you looked more beautiful than you had in high school. 

Carmy was never one to pay too much attention to a woman’s features, and not because he didn’t care, it's just that he didn’t think it mattered, he wasn’t drawn to you because of your appearance it was just you as a person that always kept his attention. The comfort you brought him, the way he used to feel safe just being in your presence, the softness you taught him it was okay to bask in, and the way you allowed him to be vulnerable and unapologetically himself were what really kept him hooked. But as he drank in your form he learned in that exact moment why a woman might want people to notice the small things, and he made sure to do so as he stared at you from his vantage point staring around Mikey’s body. Carmy was sure he could look at you all day and deep down inside, he knew he would spend most of Christmas doing just that now that a future with you wasn’t attainable. 

He was pulled from his study of you as your voice rang through his ears, the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth warmed his body. 

“Merry Christmas Carmy,” he could tell your smile was forced, but even the fact that he was worthy of your attention at this moment was enough for him. “It’s nice to see you home.” 

Carmy tried not to read into your words knowing you were just being friendly but the way Mikey cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at his younger brother, he knew he needed to say something. 

The moment was lost though as another voice interrupted the silence that fell over the group in the foyer. 

“Baby, is that you? My goodness, you look fucking gorgeous and you brought Hayden!” Half of Donna’s body popped out of the kitchen finally gaining a spare moment to greet the newcomers. Her words mumbled through the cigarette between her lips, while she held a ladle in her right hand and the left was occupied by tongs. Her apron was covered in all sorts of sauces and whatever the hell else she was in the kitchen making.

Carmy watched as you laughed half in amusement, you and Hayden both waved in his mother’s direction. Hayden gestured for you to walk in front of him as you both made your way to the kitchen. Donna waved the tongs in Carmy’s direction, “Jesus fucking Christ Carmen, take the girl's bag and coat. Don’t just fuckin stand there.” She huffed eyes glaring the longer Carmen stayed glued to the spot. “C’mon Hayden, I need someone to drink and gossip with.”

The man wasted no time tossing his jacket atop the rest of the pile before maneuvering around Carmy and you. Richie and Mikey had dispersed at some point leaving the foyer empty aside from the two old friends. Carmy gestured for your tote, taking it out of your hand before awkwardly helping you to slip off your jacket doing his best not to touch you unnecessarily. 

Carmy tried to match the small smile you gave him as you made to move around him but was sure he just looked miserable. He was surprised as you gripped his bicep before walking past him, “I uh, I actually bought you a Christmas present. So um, find me later yeah?” He watched as you genuinely smiled at him for the first time in years, unsure if the rhythm his heart was beating in was healthy or not.

A concerned look washed over your face at Carmy’s silence forcing the man to hesitantly nod his head surprised you would’ve gotten him anything after all this time. He opened his mouth to speak but settled against doing so, sure he would make a fool of himself, instead giving you a small shy smile in return. Carmy watched you a moment longer, your own mouth opening and closing like his once had before you settled on a simple nod and dropped your hand back to your side, before walking into the kitchen.

Whatever little hope that interaction had given Carmy was dashed as soon as he heard Hayden’s voice call out to you. You were happy and that’s all he ever wanted, Carmy knew he should’ve been happy for you, but he couldn’t bring himself to come to terms with the fact that all of this could’ve been avoided if he had just been honest with you five years ago.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have to watch as another man brought forth the happiness that once used to be reserved for him. 

a/n: well, well, well what do we have here? gonna be honest idk how the bear fandom is doing so this series rewrite may not get as much love as the original, but that doesn't bother me as much as it used to.

some quick housekeeping as we begin this journey once more; ya girl is working full time so updates will be sporadic, genuinely have no upload schedule so please if you read this rewrite be gracious and understand i have a real life outside of fic writing. other than that please enjoy like/comment/reblog it means a lot.

i've missed you all so much please fangirl with me over these two once more! 🫶🏼🤍

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 2.7 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, fluff, vague mentions of a blowjob, enemies to lovers kinda thing, babies and fluff and more babies, domestic fluff, character sickness at the end, we: 3.8k

…

“Bradley, your son wants you.” You mumble into his bare chest, eyes practically glued shut, the steady chorus of his breathing already trying to lull you back to sleep mid-sentence.

If you had told him a year ago that he would be spending his prime-time Saturday 2am slot just barely awake, cradling a girl and getting ready to go and change a diaper — he would have turned and run for the hills. Now that he’s in it, it’s not so bad.

As he turns his face into the curve of your neck and inhales the familiar scent of you, the idea of getting out of bed, now that seems bad.

“He’s not even crying yet.” Bradley mumbles into your hair, his eyelids heavy, the mattress soft and pillowy under him, inviting him back to sleep. Your palm smacks into his stomach and he groans. “Fine, I’m up. I’m up.”

The baby is just starting to grumble really, kicking his feet and waving up at the mobile above his bassinet. He’s really starting to look at things now. The light fixture in the living room seems to fascinate the kid.

Bradley leans into you and he kisses your hair, before pushing the covers back and rolling out of bed with a groan. He pads around to the other side of the bed and squints tiredly at the bassinet. Thomas kicks his legs and flaps his hands, apparently excited to be awake at this time of night.

“Come here, little guy,” He whispers, his thumbs stretching far across the infant’s tiny chest, his fingers hooking under his back. He lifts him and sets him against his chest, rubbing his back softly. “I’ve got ya.”

He’s getting real wriggly now. He turns his face into Bradley’s bare chest and coos, arms and legs stretching out as Bradley holds him close.

You hum softly and roll onto your back, blinking through the darkness to look at the two of them. Thomas fits against his shoulder like a puzzle piece. Bradley’s hand still covers the entire length of his back. He always looks so doll-like in his dad’s arms.

“Go back to sleep, babe.” Bradley urges you, patting Thomas’ back and turning to head for the living room. He’s hungry. Bradley has learned that’s what this kind of grizzling sound means — he’s a lot louder when he needs a diaper change.

He almost has it down to a routine now. Could maybe do it with his eyes closed if he was trying. He blinks tiredly, swaying side to side as he lets a few droplets fall from the tip of the bottle onto the inside of his wrist.

“A little longer, little man.” Bradley whispers, setting the bottle down again, shifting Thomas in his arms. He’s getting bigger. A whole two and a half pounds in the last five weeks. Longer too. His feet now extend beyond the length of Bradley’s forearm and onto his palm.

His nose wrinkles in the air and his mitten covered hands rub haphazardly at his face. He takes short, warbling breaths. Bradley has learned by now that means a big cry is coming.

“Shh, shh, shh— I know, I know — Daddy should make it cool down faster, I’m working on it.” He whispers, rocking side to side and gently bouncing the infant against his arm.

You talk to him all the time and he seems to just quieten up and listen.

“Your mom’s got it all figured out, huh?” Bradley will never get over how soft Thomas’ cheeks are. Round and plush, so delicate. He trails his thumb in soft circles over the apples of his cheeks, watching the way his infant son matches him with a seemingly pleased wriggle.

“I’m getting there.” It’s like Bradley’s telling both of them, really. He nods his head and picks up the bottle again. That’ll do.

They settle onto the couch and Bradley nestles him into the crook of his elbow, holding the bottle up high so the air doesn’t get in, blinking tiredly at ESPN’s coverage of a baseball game from a week ago. Glancing down, he finds that Thomas’ eyes aren’t on the light fixture above them. It’s not switched on. He’s looking right, staring at the blue and white glow of the television.

The book on the coffee table says he can only see a couple of inches from his own face still, more than last week but not as much as he’ll be able to see next week. He just likes the lights, Bradley guesses.

Still, he kicks his feet up onto the table and smiles a bit.

“We’ll watch tonnes of these together,” Bradley tells him, over the sounds of Thomas gulping hungrily at the bottle. “I’m sorry that the first game you’re seeing is an Astros game. They suck. But, don’t tell your Uncle that I said that.”

He stares at the screen. “You don’t have to be into baseball. It’d be cool if you’d watch a game with me every now and again, but I won’t hold you to it. We could be into… swimming, or something — I don’t know, it’s 3am, I can’t think of other sports right now.”

When he looks down this time, Thomas is looking up at his face. His eyes are heavy and kind of crossed, apparently that’s normal when they’re drinking.

“Yeah,” Bradley whispers, stroking at the baby’s forearm with his thumb as his other hand holds the bottle steady. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll have something in common, right? — We’ll figure it out.”

His face softens, breathing out a soft and amused noise as Thomas’ eyes roll back and his hands stretch up towards his head.

“That’s good, huh?” He smiles.

He drinks about four ounces each time now. Then, Bradley sits him up — he has grown awfully familiar with the importance of a muslin during this step — and pats his back softly for a couple of minutes. This part is especially hard because Thomas almost always tries to fall asleep immediately after eating.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he’s wide awake and still kicking away on his play mat at 4:30am. Bradley’s sitting at his side, propped up against the couch and now somehow watching a documentary on the mesozoic era.

He yawns, combing a hair through his wild curls and stretching his legs out in front of him. As the narrator stops to take a breath, Bradley hears your bedroom door click open.

You pad along the hallway and round the corner into the living room. He looks barely awake, blinking at you.

“What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” You answer him, crossing the living room and stepping over his legs. He loops his arms around your middle as you straddle his waist and rest your head against his shoulder. “The bed was cold. You didn’t come back.”

“Yeah, sorry, babe, we were just having too much fun out here without you.” Bradley mumbles into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes for a moment. His eyes sting behind his eyelids and your warmth against him is threatening to send him back to sleep.

You hum amusedly, kissing softly at his shoulder. You reach just past him and hold Thomas’ onesie covered foot, your mouth stretching upward into a grin. “Did Daddy get you too excited to go back to sleep, huh? — You two have no respect for bedtime, you know that?”

Bradley chuckles, pulling back and turning his head to watch the two of you.

“I have respect for bedtime, I was in bed on time. Our kid is a bad influence on me.”

“Yeah? Did daddy let you stay up and watch dinosaurs?” You grin, tickling your fingers lightly across the embroidered teddy bear that covers his stomach. Bradley turns his face into your neck, letting his eyes fall shut for just a moment. Quickly, they shoot back open as you let out a gasp.

“He’s smiling!” You push out of Bradley’s lap and kneel closer to the little activity mat. “Was that funny? Are you smiling at me?”

Bradley pushes up onto his knees and leans closer to get a look, and sure enough, his lips are twitched just a bit at the corners and as Bradley leans in, his mouth opens real wide. It looks like a real grin.

Not just the kind of smile he usually does before he pukes either. This one looks more real. Like he really did find you funny. Bradley’s lips twitch. He kisses your shoulder softly, his hand resting against your waist as you kiss Thomas’ cheek.

His cheeks dimple, his grin stretching as he makes a gargling coo sound, kicking his legs eagerly.

“That’s so a real smile! He’s happy!” You gasp, beaming as your head whips around to look at Bradley.

His thumb dips under your sleep shirt, stroking over the inch wide space above your shorts. He inhales deeply, then exhales, smiling back at you.

“Of course he’s happy.” Bradley says quietly. He watches you lean over and kiss Thomas’s stomach, then his face, then all over his mitten-covered hands. Then, you turn back and set yourself in Bradley’s lap again, your hands resting against his shoulders.

“We’re doing a good job, right?” You ask him.

“Feels like it.” He tells you quietly. You nod your head back at him. For a moment, the two of you just stare back at each other.

Just your eyes locked on his, the glow of the television behind you and the faint consistency of the dinosaur spiel and Thomas’ cooing. He’s really looking at you. His thumbs circle your hips and it feels like he’s just reading you like a book — like he has learned how to understand the position of your lips and the shape of your eyes and the depth of your breaths.

His big brown eyes, always looking at you with such a softness these days. Such a recognition.

It’s a really strange feeling, because when you look down at this little thing that you love so much — you see parts of him all over, and you know it’s the same for Bradley. To look back at him now and find those things, it’s like seeing them for the first time all over again.

You lean in close and kiss the bridge of his nose, then rest your forehead against his.

“You’re happy too?” Bradley asks, his thumbs stroking softly at your hips. You nod your head against his and hum a sound of agreement.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Bradley lifts his head a bit and lets his mouth cover yours. Warm and firm. An answer of sorts. Still, he nods anyway.

“Yeah.”

And then his mouth is on yours again, softer this time but faster. His kiss pushes a breath out of your nose, your hands linking behind his shoulders as you pull yourself closer.

Those dinosaurs and that droning voice fade into a blur and it’s just Bradley. He melts into you, groaning at the feeling of your fingers in his curls. Kissing, pulling, panting, lost in the sensation of your lips coming together. His hand comes up to cup the side of your jaw, guiding your mouth against his as his tongue caresses yours.

The hand that isn’t on your cheek skims briefly along your back, then grabs firmly at your hip. He drags you closer, the proximity making you shiver.

His eagerness thrums between you like energy, pulling you closer together, deepening your kisses until your head is spinning and you’re half sure that you’re soaking through the thin fabric of underwear that separates you.

For a second, you remember how you wound up here. Falling just as easily into Bradley Bradshaw’s bed, letting yourself get so captivated by his kisses. He feels you smile against his lips, and is the first to pull back.

His fingers dig softly into your hips.

“Are you thinking about the baseball?” He whispers, kissing you again. You grin against him, breaking into a soft giggle as you nod. The signed baseball bet, where you had offered to blow him. That thing is in a box now. He hums, “That was a really good blowjob.”

You frown and shove at his shoulders, “Don’t say that in front of—“

At once, you turn to check and find your son to be asleep on his back. All of that wriggling and kicking tired him out, one of his mitten covered hands resting against his cheek.

“Huh. He put himself to sleep.” Bradley comments, he looks back to you and finds your lips quirked. His brows start to knit together, wondering what you’re finding to smirk about at four-thirty in the morning.

Then, you lean in close and kiss his cheek softly, your lips grazing his ear. “Go put him in his bassinet.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Setting you on the ground beside him, he scoops up the baby and cradles him to his chest. You watch him kiss the top of Thomas’ head before they disappear down the hall together. He returns with a grin on his face.

”Yeah, yeah, take your pants off.” You tease him, pushing up onto your knees as he struts across the room with that cocky little smile on his face. He drops down onto the couch and sighs wistfully.

”Whoa — I’m not that kind of guy, you’ve gotta buy me dinner first.” He jokes back to you, leaning down and kissing your mouth softly. Your palm dips into the leg of his shorts, fingers wrapping loosely around his hardening cock. He chuckles breathily against your lips. “You’re right, I am that kind of guy.”

This makes you giggle, quietly of course, you’re mastering the art of not waking up Thomas by this point. Bradley sits back as your mouth presses softly to his chest. He watches silently as you kiss your way down his body, lifting his hips for you to tug his shorts down.

Then, finally, your lips are wrapped around him. His hand flinches, halfway between curling itself into your hair and staying put against the fabric of the couch. Your gaze flickers up to him, heavy with more than just the weight of the late night, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock.

You lace your fingers through his, squeeze his hand and guide it to the back of your own head. Bradley breathes out shakily. “Fuck, I love you.”

He does love you. He shows you every single day.

After sex, Bradley used to be the first to walk away. If he was in his own bed, he would be up at the crack of dawn to indicate that there was no intention of this being a long term thing. If he was in someone else’s he would be gone even sooner.

Tonight, when you’re grinning up at him as he tries to catch his breath, the first thing that crosses his mind is your bed. His and yours. Where he has held you every night for the past few months, where your son sleeps a few feet away.

Pulling his shorts up around his hips, Bradley leans forwards and pulls you to your feet, then hooks his hands under your thighs. You bury your gasp into the curve of his neck as he lifts you against him, guiding your legs around his waist.

”C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

He offered to reciprocate the favour. It’s getting difficult to say no, watching him stroll around the house in a pair of shorts, holding your baby in his arms. Even worse since he went back to work and the flight suit made its reappearance.

You’re only a week from getting the all-clear, and really, you’re half sure that six days wouldn’t make that much of a difference in your recovery journey. But that’s the old you thinking. Now that you’ve got a kid, you should be doing things more by the book.

So, six more days until you can let Maverick take the baby for a nice long walk, and have wild, protected sex, with Bradley. His arms wrap securely around your middle. He turns his face into the crook of your neck and kisses lazily at your skin, and promptly falls asleep.

It takes you a little longer, you weren’t up for as long as he was, but you know that you have to work fast while the two boys are asleep. Eyes closed, Bradley’s heartbeat is steady against your back and his snoring is muffled by your shoulder. If you listen out, you can hear Thomas’ deep little breaths from within his bassinet.

Slow, deep breaths in. Bradley’s weight pressing into your back. Long, calm breaths out. The dinosaurs on the television and the smile on Thomas’ face. The freckles on Bradley’s chest, the feeling of his arms wrapped around your middle.

You’re up before him the next morning. Tommy has little respect for the Saturday morning lazies, it would seem. You let Bradley sleep in for a bit, giving the baby his bottle and getting in a solid twenty minute tummy-time session before it dawns on you that the two of you had invited Maverick over.

“Come on in, Mav — Bradley’s sleeping.” You call to the door. Bradley still gets a little antsy when his uncle comes around, but he doesn’t mind so much as long as the conversation stays on Tommy.

Maverick has been over a couple of times since he was born and it’s like the two of them have some kind of unspoken connection. Pete’s old and childless, and kind of a bachelor, but something about him calms Tommy down every single time.

His spare key clicks in the lock and the door opens compliantly. After the last emergency, you figured it would be good for him to have one. At least for as long as he will be in Pensacola with you.

Dressed in his uniform of a white t-shirt and vintage jeans, Maverick walks towards you shaking his head. He isn’t fazed by the fact that you’re in your pyjamas. Carole stayed in hers until Bradley was almost eight months.

He exhales as he sits beside you. “I can’t believe how big he’s getting.”

“I know, right? — It’s going by so quickly.” You hum, grinning at the baby in an attempt to replicate last night’s moment of pure bliss. Maverick’s blue eyes flicker between the two of you, and he finds himself smiling too. “Here, make yourself useful, Gramps. I’ll get Bradley.”

He complies as easily as the door had, taking the baby as you pass him over, but his face falls. Gramps. That’s not his title, he hasn’t earned it. Looking down at the squirming little boy in his arms — god, he hopes he earns it.

You push up onto the edge of your bed, take two steps, and drop down on top of Bradley, waking him with a groan.

“Morning.” You grin at him as he frowns grumpily at you, blinking through the morning light. He reaches out blindly and cups the back of your neck, pulling you into him. You giggle as he kisses at your forehead, then puckers his lips expectantly for you to kiss his mouth.

You peck his lips softly.

He sighs softly. ”What time is it?”

You smooth your hands along his bare chest and tap at his navel. ”Eleven. Mav’s here, put some clothes on and entertain so that I can shower?”

“Uh-huh. Five more minutes.” He mumbles, turning his face into the pillow, almost knocking you off of him as he tries to roll onto his side. You shove at his shoulders and he groans again, more dramatically this time. “Fine, I’m up.”

You seem to have struck a decent balance. Maverick has stopped by every weekend since you got back from the hospital, more now that Bradley is back at work. He seems to have a little more freedom in the Navy than Bradley does, but Bradley says that’s not how it’s supposed to be.

Doesn’t matter to you either way, it gives you time on a Saturday morning to have a twenty minute shower, get dressed and still find time to put some makeup on afterwards. Even if Bradley does appear in the reflection behind you after exactly thirty-two minutes of independence.

“What’s that look on your face?” You wonder aloud, coating mascara through your lashes in the mirror. He presses his chest into you, snaking a hand around to your front and resting it against your stomach.

“Just… getting used to him not being in there anymore.”

“Tell me about it, I keep getting surprised when I see my toes.” You scoff in response, setting the applicator into the tube and twisting it shut, dropping it back into your makeup bag. Bradley leans forwards and kisses the side of your neck softly.

Then again. Then, he turns his head and looks at you through the mirror with a smile on his face.

“I can fix that, if it’s an issue for you.” You already know that he’s joking but the sentiment of being pregnant again so soon makes you screw your face up and push him off of you anyway.

“Five weeks postpartum and you’re already begging to knock me up again,” You hum, playing him right back at his own game as you pull a blush from the bag. “And to think, last time you just took it for granted.”

His palm smoothes over your stomach, using the leverage to drag you backwards into his chest. He turns his face and kisses your cheek tenderly.

“I’ll make it up to you next time.”

“Bradley, I love you,” You tell him carefully, squinting at him through the mirror, “but if you keep threatening to get me pregnant, I might have to take a vow of celibacy.”

He snorts. Threatening. His mouth stretches into a grin as his thumb trails across your navel, ending the conversation with a sweet shrug of his broad shoulders. Maybe there’s more to say on the topic, but you won’t know.

The sound of your phone ringing cuts between the two of you. Simultaneously, your eyes go wide. It’s going to make Thomas scream. That kid hates high-pitched noises, the two of you have been living with your phones on silent for weeks. You must have accidentally turned it off, either way, it’s loud and it’s shrill now — and Mav panics when Tommy starts screaming. Bradley leaves you with a quick squeeze of your hip, darting from the bathroom before you have even opened your mouth.

You hear him answer the phone with a quiet ‘hello?’ from the other room.

You slot the blush back into your makeup bag and dig around between plastic tubes and packages. Stupidly looking for whatever comes next in your routine, preparing yourself to do something minuscule like take a trip to the grocery store.

All too soon, Bradley appears in the mirror once again. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, his face suddenly sullen, his eyes on you.

“Yeah. No, I get it. Call us back when you know.” He says quietly. The line clicks dead against his ear and he swallows thickly. Your smile falls as you turn to face him.

”What is it?”

Bradley lets his hand fall down to his side, pausing in thought for just a moment. He presses his lips together and gives a small, weak shake of his head.

”It’s your dad.”

Taglist: @chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @heli991113 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm33 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @himbos-on-ice @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutford @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend @nerdgirljen @marvelouslyme96

[certifiedposeidonhater]

PERCY JACKSON HEADCANONS!! (i have a very, very, VERY long series of these on my tiktok so i’ve decided im gonna start posting them here!)

this is gonna be the first part! i’m gonna do like 20-25 each part. (there’s a lot…) just a reminder to pretty please be respectful and kind. i love hearing different opinions and explaining why i think the things that i do or my reasoning behind these, but if you are rude or mean, im just gonna shut you down. if you want to RESPECTFULLY discuss our different opinions, i would LOVE to!! 💙

alrighty, here goes (why am i lowkey nervous?):

1. So, you know how aphrodite children know French bc it’s like the language of love? Percy knows a lot of island/oceanic languages that are native to island cultures (e.g. Māori, Tahitian, Samoan, etc.) because…poseidon.

2. Percy bottles up all of his emotions until he eventually has a mental breakdown where he lays in bed for a few days and completely isolates himself from all his friends and family. He kinda just pops back up when he’s done and acts like nothing happened. None of his friends or family really have the heart to bring it up, and if they do, he’ll just dismiss it and shut down.

3. He physically cannot eat when someone is upset at him or he’s upset at somebody else (he’s usually upset at himself.)

4. Percy and the aphrodite cabin were kinda friends. Especially him and Drew and him and Silena. I don’t know why but it just makes sense. They have weekly gossip sessions. The aphrodite cabin were the only campers (well mostly Silena but still) who didn’t avoid or ignore Percy once he got claimed. Silena and Beckendorf took him in and became almost parental figures.

5. Percy once got in an argument with his dad so he drove himself to a nearby church and got himself baptized at a local church to spite his dad (which i feel like kinda cancels out the whole point of the baptism but whatever.) His mom also got him baptized when he was a baby because she was annoyed at poseidon and also bc she grew up in a kinda religious household. (‘Cause i’m pretty sure that Sally was from Texas and so it fits the region.)

6. He’s not white. He’s actually Hispanic/Portuguese. It fits the majority of the ethnicity census in the area where he grew up so it’s very likely. Plus (other than Walker) i lowkey cannot imagine Percy as white.

7. He has nightmares from seeing himself from another point of view and seeing how scary he is. (He’s scared of himself. (He sees himself as Luke.))

8. Gods and goddesses used to visit Percy as a kid and just kinda chat him up and hang around him a bit. He would literally just randomly be sitting on the subway and suddenly Iris pops up and starts talking to him, and Percy being the 8 yo kid he is, he starts talking back and suddenly it’s a full-blown conversation.

9. He has a special spot that he used to go to with Beckendorf. They found it while they were searching for something for one of Beckendorfs projects. It’s like a little pond somewhere in the forest, super remote. Percy still goes there whenever he’s at camp and it reminds him of Beckendorf.

10. He has the ability to see the past through water. Like how water can collect energy? Like that science thingy where energy can kinda collect in water? Well, Percy can use his powers to kind of bring the past to life based on what has happened near the water. (e.g. he could use the water in the creek to create like a mist version of the things that happened there. Like his claiming. think Frozen II)

11. When he was a kid, g*be used to kick Percy out on the streets. He would be supposed to be taking care of Percy when Sally was at work and he would just make Percy go outside for hours at a time no matter what the weather was. Even if it was a blizzard and Percy didn’t have a jacket, Percy was outside.

12. g*be has broken Percy’s arm (multiple times) and he told everyone it was from falling down the stairs of his apartment complex. It never healed right either so his right arm is a little funky.

13. He’s left handed.

14. Percy has tried to off himself. But that’s also canon so like-

15. Percy dissociates a lot. It happened more when he was a kid but it started up again after the first war. He will dissociate for hours and no one knows how to get him out of it. It stresses Annabeth out SO MUCH.

16. He developed an eating disorder where he hated himself so much that whenever he ate, his mind would hyperfixate and overthink about that hatred and how much of a terrible person he was to the point he would throw up everytime he ate. Restricting what he eats also helps him feel in control of his life, and he gets so little control that the feeling of starving himself became almost euphoric.

17. He HATES pigeons and squirrels (it’s irrational.)

18. He’s fluent in Spanish and Portuguese. and some Italian bc of g*be and bc he grew up around the Italian mafia.

19. He knows A LOT of random facts about random local places without ever being there. It rlly impressed Annabeth when she started talking abt some cool architectural thing and Percy was js like “oh yeah, i know all about that!” he’s never been to half of them, but he knows about it.

20. His New York accent was *super* noticeable when he was a kid and he got bullied for it, so he started hiding it and does it subconsciously even though he knows his friends wouldn’t make fun of him. It still comes out when he’s tired, stressed, or emotional.

21. He code switches.

22. Percy hates Boston and New Jersey

23. He isn’t patriotic at all but the SECOND someone starts talking bad abt nyc he is ON IT. Same with if a European (mainly a British person) says something bad about America, he starts becoming Alexander Hamilton. He suddenly LOVES his country and that country’s culture.

Hope yall enjoy! I’m just posting old ones from tiktok so i have them backed up on somewhere and to get the people on tumblr caught up and there will be more soon 🤗🤗 If yall have any questions or anything, PLEASE ask me! I love talking to people about this stuff!

[wutheringcaterpillar]

"if i say i miss you, i know that you won't.”

Summary: Cillian looks back at all the mistakes he made in his marriage. Writing to a wife that never came home after he realized too late he was the reason she ran away. Will one last letter change everything?

Warnings: Resentment, mentions of divorce, marriage problems, yearning

Tapping his cracked finger tips against the cold wooden table, fit snuggly to the side of the wall of the kitchen just beside the window. Cillian warmed his hands, cusping them around the simmering cup of honey tea while he scanned the same script for the ninth time. The words and acts blurring together in a silhouette of scattered thoughts.

He tried to focus to the best of his ability but the autumn sun peered in through the sheer blinds, pulling his depressed, tired eyes away from the scripture. It was at that point in the season the leaves started to fall in their poetic state, scattering across the front lawn and dwindling over the cracked sidewalks.

"Hm.." He hummed to himself whimsically as he watched a young couple walking happily hand in hand together down the street, involuntarily caressing the golden band that fit snug to his finger for the past fifteen years.

It felt like just yesterday his wife was wrapped in his arms, stealing the warmth of his body, her hair flowing freely over his shoulder while their legs were intertwined between the cotton sheets. Her head tucked between his head and collarbone while her plush, delicate lips pressed against the veins of his neck.

She had the giggle that would make any sorrowful man smile gleefully, so infectious, so pure. He missed it immensely.

It had been nearly a year since he saw the woman that took his last name. Marriages were a funny thing, the divorce statistic rising increasingly fast with each passing day. He never dreamed that he would become a part of such a number, not ever.

Her scarves still lay on the hooks behind the door, her remnants of clothes and shoes still decorating the once shared flat, only reminding Cillian that he was living with a ghost of a person who was still living, just not with him anymore.

The media pressed on the topic repeatedly in nearly every interview he did, questioning what was really going in his marriage. Being the private, family man he was, he dismissed these questions immediately, only wanting to stick to questions regarding the projects he was currently working on.

They slowly began to fade away, much like his wife as time passed. Speculations ever so often here and there when he was spotted out walking Scout by himself, never having taken the wedding ring off.

Papers were never signed, but in a way the void in the house crept into his gut, often causing him to just sit in the car, staring at the fortress that was supposed to be his safe haven. The house no longer feeling like home as much as it was a reminder of how his lifestyle slowly pushed her away.

No one talked about how celebrities still had their battles and money was just but an object. Cillian would have thrown it all away for her if he knew it would end with his wife disappearing and never coming home, leaving him a simple letter of her decision to leave.

Gulping, he wiped at his dreary eyes as tears were bearing down against the waterline of his baby blue eyes, desperately seeking an escape from the bottled up emotions Cillian avoided for so needlessly long.

She was a writer, a damn great one in his eyes but their schedules never aligned and the first book signing she had he couldn't push back a date for an interview. He hadn't asked her how it went, merely promising he'd make it up, yet he never found the time to do so.

Their love life diminished at a rapid pace, the date nights not so frequent, while every conversation lead to arguments, inevitably leading to mental exhaustion and her needing space away, time to think.

Their careers didn't align, and neither were willing to put their lives on hold for one another. She had missed out on so many oppurtunities to publish anymore, even passing on a job to be a writer for the times. She hoped this would fix the problems in their relationship, not realizing until far too late how many phases of her aspirations she passed on because of him. She refused any longer to sit around and wait for Cillian to find the time for their marriage, for her. He honored and respected her for that but the days soon turned into weeks, leading to months, leading to Cillian living how he was now.

The picture frames stared back at him every day, making him feel like a fool for not making time for her, for never fighting harder for their marriage and disregarding her hopes and dreams. The flashbacks of all the intimate moments warmed his heart, the arguments and feuds eating at his bones like acid did to a surface.

Stumbling into his office, he opened the left hand drawer, pulling out a pen and paper, sitting down like he did every week before he began to write, hands trembling each time as he held the pen.

" My love,

I write this with letter to you with good graces in hopes of you coming home.

I understand I've poisoned our love, I was so careless with your kindness, your strength, and your selfless love.

To you I'm just a man, but to me you're all I am. I once said I could never imagine my life without you in it and that holds true to this day. I realize our marriage wasn't perfect, no marriage is. However, I refuse for us to be some statistic we always said we would beat.

I find myself losing who I am every day you are away. I'm still trying to convince myself you are coming home, though I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, if you resented me even after how long it's been. Still can hear the creaks of us dancing on the patio, can still see your subtle eyes gleaming in the orange of the sunlight.

I understand the pain and hurt I've done to not only us but to you. I don't know if you read these letters but I won't be a bother any longer..

I just need to say, I still wear this ring every day and our love will never come off of this finger. Not a day goes by where I don't think of you and not a day will go by where I am not madly still in love with you. I need you, I need us.

I just wish for a chance to prove to you, my love, that I can be, I will be a better husband to you than what I was in the past.

Regardless I wish all the best to you.

Kindest Regards,

Cillian"

Licking the slit of the envelope, Cillian debated on whether or not this would work, but he refused to give up hope that one day she would return.

Clasping the mailbox shut, he noticed the paps walking toward him and scuttled back inside.

The weeks passed agonizingly slow after he mailed the letter.

The fifth night of the third week Cillian was sat in the recliner, lamp glowing over the table at the same script making notes of what could be changed or what expressions and mannerisms he should expose in the scene when a glare of light flashed through the window.

He hadn't thought much of it and tried to ignore that skip of his heart and the empty hope that it could be his wife until the sound of a car door closing echoed outside the house.

Like a young boy in love, nervous for his first date he hurriedly ran to the window in a rush of anxious optimism, pulling the curtain open hastily. All hope diminishing from his body, heart breaking when he noticed it was just the new neighbor's car pulling into their driveway.

Something told him she was never coming home.

The following night his assistant was doing the final fit for his red carpet premiere for "Small Things Like These", brushing at Cillian's hair until she gave him the thumbs up that he was ready to go.

Before exiting the room she tugged at his arm gently, eyes beading with sincerity and utter care and concern when she asked,

"She still hasn't come home has she?" What was he supposed to do, lie? Clearly nothing has changed in his life, nor did he even mention you anymore. Still trying to navigate through life without you by his side. With a simple sigh, he scratched at his forehead, unable to find the words, nor want to have to admit aloud that he didn't know where his wife was or if she'd ever be coming back.

With a simple look of hopeless confusion, Cillian rested his eyes sighing and changing the subject respectfully, mentioning how she should grab one of his jackets since the weather was supposed to decline into a chilly wind later on in the night. Holding the door open for her to follow him out to the car, she dropped the subject, merely nodding at his comment and mumbling a sincere thank you.

He smiled for the cameras upon arriving, playing the role of a successful actor and not allowing the prying voices to get a reaction out of him when they made comments about her, his one love.

She never wrote back. He still held onto her belongings unable to bare with separating from them. Never daring to take the ring off of his finger even if she didn't wear hers anymore.

[sea-owl]

A scenario I want to read or possibly write but I have no idea on where to make it fit.

I'm thinking of placing it after Colin tells the mama's that Penelope is possibly pregnant to move up the wedding. He's left by this point and it's just the two of them in the drawing room. Violet had some whiskey brought in to mix with their teas. She needed something stronger than regular tea. At this point between the two of them they were halfway through the bottle.

"I can't believe this happened," Violet sighed. Well she's three for three now on special licenses.

"I can," Portia confessed, sipping her tea mixture. "I left them alone plenty of times after the engagement, and despite your son's beliefs I wasn't blind to his late night visits."

Violet's jaw dropped. "You left them alone?! On purpose?!"

Portia nodded proud. Violet could only sigh and picked up her cup.

"I prefer to have one of my girls secure an heir sooner rather than later," Portia said. "Besides no one really cares for an eight month baby. I mean wasn't the viscount one?"

Violet choked on her tea, heat rushing to her cheeks. While there might be some truth to that how did Portia know? Anthony was already in Eton when they moved in across the square.

Portia carried on, Violet would be fine. "Though I suppose when one chooses their partner the martial act is more enjoyable."

Violet turned to face Portia. She had a feeling the woman sitting next to her was one of the many women whose fathers arranged their marriages. Of all the years she's know the other woman Violet doesn't think she's ever once seen Portia smile at the late Lord Featherington.

"Your father arranged your marriage?" Violet guessed.

Portia shook her head, and was it the whiskey or was there a slight change to Portia's voice? "No my father took my name literally and offered me up as a sacrifice to secure better trade deals the English wouldn't allow before. After that Lord Featherington dragged me off to his country estate where I was trained from hiding my rosary to changing my voice. Every once in a while Lord Featherington would come to take his pleasure or try for a son,"

Portia paused, her head tilting to the side slightly. "Now that I think about it I don't think he ever kissed me properly."

Violet frowned, that was such a shame. Portia looked like she had nice kissable lips. Why were they not appreciated? Also her hair looked soft, Violet knows soft hair is always nice to run through when kissing, she's had plenty of practice after all.

Wait, Violet knows how to kiss, and every lady should have at least one proper kiss in their lifetime.

"I could kiss you," Violet offered.

Portia studied Violet for a moment.

It was in the afternoon that Portia Featherington kissed Violet Bridgerton in her drawing room, and it was glorious.

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

Olfactophilia

ST☆RISH - HE★VENS

TW FOR SEMI SUGGESTIVE CONTENT! These are my personal headcanons on what I think the idols would wear. You do not have to agree with me. I just dislike how Broccoli always gives their character merch scents like; apple or lavender. They are adult men in an entertainment industry. They usually get promotional items so I think that they have preferences... But I also have a thing for exploring the world around me with my nose first. I hope you enjoy.

Quick explanation; top notes, middle notes, and base notes are the length of how long the scent will last when applied. Top notes; 5 - 15 minutes / Middle notes; 1 hour / Base notes; Max of 6 hours

Reiji Kotobuki

Le Beau Paradise Garden by Jean Paul Gaultier Masculine Cologne Around 130 USD // 20,094 Yen

So I picked this mostly based on my perception of Reiji. I think he is so wonderful and silly. And the design of the bottle reminds me of him in a way that I cannot explain. His canon scent/associated smell from what I have seen is usually… Grass? Earth and forest smell. Which is fine. But I think he needs something… Cuter? Reiji is a big clown character so I think that something akin to lawn clippings isn’t as fun and whimsical as he is. So I chose this! The top notes are ginger, mint, water notes (these are molecules combined to mimic the ‘scent’ of clean freshwater!) and green notes(grass usually)! This is to create a very fresh smell when it’s first applied. The middle notes are coconut, fig, and salt. I really like this for Reiji because it’s masculine but also it feels almost… Like a mature beach trip. If that makes sense. In a fun way! Lastly the base notes are tonka beans and sandalwood so it all fades down to this which is very warm. Please imagine visiting the lake after a drive with him and spending the whole day together until night time!~! That kind of scent.

Reiji is always looking for ways to get you closer…

Ranmaru Kurosaki

Eros Flame by Versace Masculine Cologne Around 115 USD // 17,219 Yen

Ranmaru usually has something ‘spicy’ or amber for his scent which actually makes sense to me. But again usually when they say spicy it’s cinnamon and only cinnamon… Which reminds me more of Xmas than it reminds me of a sexy man. So I picked Eros Flame by Versace because I actually have smelled this cologne in person. A long time ago I smelled it and it wasn’t for me personally. But I can’t deny it smelled good. The top notes are mandarin orange, Madagascar pepper (spicy!), chinotto(sour and tart fruit that is similar to an orange), rosemary, and lemon. So it’s very citrusy on top and the scent is almost like… Potpourri? So it's a nice bowl of fruit when he comes in to hug you. The middle notes are geranium, pepperwood, and rose so it’s very floral and gently mixing in with the lingering fruit scent! Which can be a little intense but the bite of the spice smell remains. The base notes are vanilla, tonka bean, sandalwood, Texas cedar, patchouli, and oakmoss! Very calm and earthy smells with that hidden sweetness. I think it fits Ranmaru very well because he is very passionate, but there’s also a softness there!

Ranmaru wants to make sure you know that he likes you…

Ai Mikaze

MISSING PERSON by PHLUR Unisex Cologne Around 99 USD // 15,047 Yen

My original choice for Ai was Molecule 01 but I changed my mind. I like this much better. So my original choice was me viewing Ai Mikaze as physically what he is and not who he is which was very hurtful of me! MISSING PERSON is supposed to replicate the lingering scent of your lovers bare skin. It is intimate, but nonsexual. If I recall, Ai usually gets floral scents which actually does make sense for me. I just am not the biggest fan of the constant usage of lavender when it comes to idol merchandise. Ai is still a 'child' so... I will allow it. The top notes are bergamot (if an orange and a lemon had a baby that would be the smell), jasmine, and musk (powdery, sweet, feminine!). Imagine the person you love finally dry after a long and relaxing shower. The top notes are meant to imitate that, which I very much agree with... The middle notes are orange blossom, cyclamen, and neroli. These are all floral smells and as the top notes fade it's a lingering and pleasant smell that will leave you at ease. Finally, the base notes are white musk (more masculine!), white wood, and Australian sandalwood. As everything winds down you are left with a softness in the cologne that I really like for Ai. He is not just a machine made to replicate who once was. He is 愛!~!

As Ai grows and learns, you can see that he really is his own person...

Camus

The Omniscient Mr. Thompson by Penhaligon's Masculine Cologne Around 315 USD // 47, 747 Yen

This was also not my first choice but my first choice was so basic I forgot the name. This cologne is insanely expensive because the bottle is only 75ml for the price. Which isn't a lot but it is very strong... It is butler inspired, which Camus plays that role while on stage but also even outside of that the scent reminds me of him. In a good way! The top notes are lavender, pink pepper, and elemi (a type of amber with a pine smell!). It comes off as sweet and masculine. The scent tends to linger which it's like... "You will see me" if that makes sense. The middle notes are orris root (powdery earth smell), black pepper, and geranium. The pepper is back! But pink pepper and black pepper are different when it comes to colognes and perfumes. Pink pepper is more for a sweeter spice smell. Imagine a finely aged whiskey while black pepper is a biting spice meant to give you the feeling of intensity. So the middle notes are much warmer and mature than the top ones. Finally our base notes are vanilla, sesame, and oak! When it all fades down to the base as a whole... It's impossible to explain other than elegant. It is very strong scent wise but it fades quickly. So even before entering a room the smell is going to attract you. I am actually a very big fan of this one. I love almost every fragrance from this collection...

Camus knows that the smell will cling to your clothes when he's finished with you...

[rafesgoldrings]

lust for life💋: omggg i’m kind of so excited for this soooo i’m thinking bestfriend!rafe and reader with these prompts:

“say, what’s that on your mind? is it me” (40)

“kiss me” (16)

“where do you want me, darling?” (25)

lastly, “does doing these kinds of things make us friends with benefits?”

congratulations on the 1k baby i’m so proud of youuu! you are such an amazing writer, i’m literally so speechless each and everytime I see your writing! <3

Kiss Me R.C

Babe I love this so much! And thank you🥺 you were one of the first people to consistently pop into my notifs and be so supportive of everything I write so thank you for that, genuinely one of the kindest people i’ve met🫶🏻😚 I adore you (also kind of changing up the wording on one of these prompts just to make it fit a bit better)

Having feelings for someone who you know doesn’t feel the same is hard enough. You have to watch them flirt with other people, watch them go on dates, live their love life with someone who’s not you. When that person is your best friend who you’ve known since childhood, one who you see all the time? It makes it way harder to deal with, he tells you the details of every date, how pretty this girl is, how he really can see a future with her, and you have to put on a supportive front and give him the best advice you can while your heart breaks. That’s exactly what’s happening with you and Rafe, you’ve been in love with him since you were younger.

He started talking to a new girl and had told you all about her, how she made him happy and they had been on a few dates. They planned for more, he really thought they could take this to the next level and start dating. You distance yourself from that point, choosing to find comfort in liquor bottles and rolled up joins. The parties you once hated going to become your new best friend over the next few weeks, Rafe was confused as to why his best friend since childhood seemingly wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Topper and Kelce tell him they’ve seen you at the parties a lot more, drinking more than you can handle and going home with whatever guy you find, and he knows something is wrong. He decides he’s going to confront you when he sees you post on your story, drunk and high off your ass while some guy grabs all over you.

You’re sitting on your couch trying to get over the terrible hangover you had. You took some medicine about an hour ago and it was finally starting to kick in, and then you hear a knock on the door. Your face scrunches in confusion because nobody was supposed to be here, but you get up and walk to the door anyway. Your heart sinks when you see it’s Rafe standing at the door and hesitantly open it.

“Can we talk?” he asks, desperation evident in his voice.

You think for a minute, knowing you need to talk to him and get it out of the way regardless of the outcome. You open your door wider and let him in, closing the door and going to sit on the couch next to him.

“What’s going on with you huh? One minute we’re best friends and the next you’re leaving me high and dry, I have to find out from Top and Kelce that you’re at all these parties getting high and drunk off your ass. You’re hooking up with all these guys and posting about it while ignoring my texts” he’s angry and that makes you angry. He’s allowed to hookup with whoever but you’re not?

“What do you care? You have what’s her fucking name, the new bitch you’re talking to. What does it matter if i’m hooking up with guys? Don’t worry about me.” you glare at him with storms in your eyes, nostrils flaring as your chest rises rapidly.

“I’m always going to worry about you! You’re my best friend a-“

“Stop, stop fucking calling me that. Please just leave” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. He’s not meaning to, you know that, but he’s crushing your heart with each word.

“Y/N…please. Say what’s on your mind, is it me?” he has a feeling of what’s wrong. If it’s anything like he thinks then he understands. All these girls he’s with are to try and replace you, the girl he’s wanted since he first met you. He thinks there’s no way you’ll want to be with him because you’re just friends, so he keeps quiet and fills the void with girls that will never come close to you.

“I-” now or never, you take a deep breath in “I like you okay? And not just in a best friend way, I want you to talk about me the way you talk about these girls you date. I want you to feel the way about me that I feel about you. I want you to want me the same way I want you. But I know that won’t happen and it’s okay Rafe really, I g-“

“Kiss me” he pleads, eyes staring into yours full of desperation.

“What? What about that girl” you’re confused, clearly you heard him wrong.

“She’s gone, has been for weeks. Now. Kiss. Me” he places his hands on your face and grounds your thoughts.

You waste no time, crashing your lips into his. His hands move from your face to your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap. You mentally smack yourself when you realize you’re only wearing one of his t shirts and some panties, but fuck did it feel good. Instinctually, you begin grinding down agasint him, feeling his cock harden under you, and let out a small whimper. He pulls away to check if you’re okay and mutters out a small ‘fuck’ when he looks at you. Your lips are swollen, eyes black with lust and lids hooded as you whine.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby” his hand moves to swipe at your cheek one, trailing it down your face and to your neck before gently squeezing.

“Rafe, I want you to fuck me” he almost doesn’t hear you, almost.

“Where do you want me darling?” he rests his forehead against yours, bringing his other hand the the other side of your neck to cradle it.

“My uh, you know” suddenly a wave of embarrassment flooded you. Scared you’d say the wrong thing and he’d leave realizing this was a mistake.

“Say it. Please say it” he was desperate, rolling his lips against your clothes cunt.

“In my pussy. Want you in my pussy” you whimper out, eyes fluttering closed at the friction on your clit.

You hear him mumble something before you’re suddenly being picked up and carried to your bedroom, your back softly colliding with your matters as he hovers over you. He kisses your lips gently, pulling away and just looking at you. Eyes full of lust and love as he moves to pull his top off, you give him the okay and he does the same to you, muttering about how perfect you were when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra. His head dips down to kiss your tits, taking your nipple into his mouth and circling it with his tongue before doing the same to the other.

“Rafe, please just fuck me” you needed him right now, desperate for him to make you his in every way.

He pulled your panties down and removes his pants and boxers, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a condom. He opens the packet before pulling the condom out and rolling it onto his cock, discarding the packet into the floor and lining the tip of his cock up with your dripping hole.

“Are you sure you want this baby?” he wants to make sure before he does this, you nod your head and pull him into a kiss. He pushes into you, going slow to let you adjust to his size. You let out a cry and he stops to check on you.

“I’m okay, you’re just so big. Not u-used to it” you stutter out, nails digging into his biceps. He keeps pushing into you until his cock is fully inside you, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and letting out a loud groan.

“Feel so good around my cock, so fucking tight” he doesn’t make any efforts to move until you give him the go ahead.

“You can move now, make me yours” that seems to flip a switch inside of him, he begins thrusting into you at a pace that’s not quite gentle but also not rough. You cry out in pleasure as tears slip from the corners of your eyes, his hair hanging down and brushing against your face as he keeps himself hovered over you. His strong arms are on both sides of your head, nails gripping onto his back and leaving scratch marks as he slams into you all the way over and over again.

His lips are roaming every inch of your body that they can, small moans filling the room. You feel yourself getting close to climax and pull him into a kiss that turns out more sloppy than you planned. It’s full of passion, years of unsaid feelings finally coming to the surface.

“I-oh fuck- i’m close” you break the kiss, brows scrunched together and head falling back into the mattress as your mouth falls open. The pretty sounds you’re making bring him close to the edge as well, loud grunts and groans escaping his lips as his thrusts become rougher.

“I am too baby, fuck you’re gripping me so tight” the both of you coming undone at the same time, a string of moans and curse words echoing off the walls. Your body arched as his hips faltered in movement, his lips capturing yours as your orgasms washed over you.

When the both of you managed to come down from the rush, he pulls out of you and removes the condom, discarding it in your trash can. He walks to your bathroom and grabs a cloth, wiping you off before doing the same to himself and throwing the rag in your clothes hamper.

You feel the bed dip beside you and his arms wrap around you, pulling your back to his front. Neither of you say anything, just wanting to enjoy the moment.

“So….does doing these kinds of things make us friends with benefits?” you know from his tone that he has that stupid grin on his face that he always did when teasing you. You reach your hand back and smack his head with a small laugh.

“Oh shut up” you hear him mumble a small ‘ow, it was just a question jeez’ and smile to yourself, shaking your head.

“Okay okay, if it doesn’t make us friends with benefits…that must make us boyfriend and girlfriend yeah?” you turn around so you were facing him, he had a small smirk on his face and you had a small grin on yours. Your eyes meet his and he places his forehead against yours.

“I guess it does” his face breaks out in a large smile, pulling you into another kiss. His nose nudges against yours when he pulls away, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest. He finally got his girl, nothing would ever beat what he was feeling right now.

[minisugakoobies]

*cackles evilly* Um, I mean- *coughs and smiles*

How about Mr. Bahng with (getting pinned against a wall) and ("God, you’re making me so fucking hard right now.")? Because, you know, you were one of the culprits who sent me down delulu land for him? 😒🧃💕

AJ, my beloved, anything for you! I'm still not sorry about the Chan brainrot 😆 and I can't wait to dig into Spin You soon 💕

Title: Keep It Secret Pairing: Chan x Gender Neutral Reader Rating: M(18+) Genre: Smut, Friends to Lovers Warnings: dirty texts, sneaking around, implied sex

(Apologies for any typos, ya girl is buzzed) The thing about sneaking around behind your friends' backs is - you're supposed to keep it secret.

But as you sit at the restaurant table where your group of friends are toasting to Minho's promotion, you're starting to worry that the others are going to know that you and Chan have been fucking.

Mainly because you can't stop looking at the texts he's been sending all night:

Channie: You look so fucking good tonight

Channie: Did you wear that dress just for me?

You bite your lip, thumbs flying over the screen, hoping the others don't see you. Because if they catch you texting, they'll be all up in your business faster than lightning. Your friends are amazing, but they're also the nosiest fuckers you've ever met.

Which is why you and Chan haven't told them about the hookups. The nights spent in each other's beds. The afternoons on your couches, him as deep inside you as he can possibly get. They'd have too many questions, want to know about labels. Neither of you want to deal with that.

So you try to hide it.

You: Yeah, I did. You like?

Casually, you lean forward, reaching for the bottle of wine Felix graciously bought for the table. But really, you're just letting Chan get an eyeful of your cleavage as he covertly gazes at you from the other side of the table. His blond hair falls gently over his brow as he bows his head over his lap, where his phone must rest.

Channie: Fuck dessert

Channie: Gonna eat you up instead

His last text has you shifting in your seat, rubbing your thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction. Jeongin, sitting next to you, notices.

"You okay there?" he asks, tilting his head with curiosity.

"I'm fine! Just… been a long week. Ready to get out of here and hit the dance floor." That's the plan for the evening - dinner, drinks, and dancing. But you're hoping to find time to fit something else in.

(Or rather, someone.)

The waiter comes around with everyone's desserts. You scoop up a spoonful of Makgeolli ice cream. Everyone's attention is on Minho as he tells a story. Everyone, that is, except Chan, who watches with naked interest as you close your lips around the cold treat, eyes fluttering shut as the sinful sweetness hits your tongue.

The spoon comes out clean, but a drop dribbles down your bottom lip. When you open your eyes, you stare directly at Chan as you lick the errant drop away. Delicious.

Not even a half second later, your phone buzzes in your hand.

Channie: God, you’re making me so fucking hard right now

You can't wait a second longer. Rising, you smooth down your skirt, letting your fingers brush over your thighs, knowing he's looking.

"I'm just going to use the rest room."

It's probably not the smartest idea, with all of your friends here, to do this now. But two minutes later, when there's a knock and another text -

Channie: Let me in, baby

and as soon as you open the door, he pins you to the wall, you realize that even if they figure it out -

It's worth it.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

[jjtheresidentbaby]

HIIIII its @bebbie-bilinski and as mentioned heres the request! sorry i just copy pasted it from our messages lol

ok u know how at first babies r insatiable and wanna be fed every like 2 hours? well that concept but regressed!stiles and cg!derek. BUT!! BUTT!! 1) he did not plan on regressing at all that night and 2) it was a pack night at the loft with the pack so they also have to witness/help out with it (i hc that werewolves need less sleep so they arent too grumpy about it) and 3) stiles is very guilty about it and tries so hard not to bother anyone but got damn it hes grumpy and wants a bottle every 2 seconds lol…ok das it *looks at u with big ol wet pathetic eyes*

also to add to that, maybe at first he doesnt realize -what- he wants he just knows he wants something anyways go crazy

˚. ❝₊˚ insatiable ❞ ˚₊·

» stiles stilinski x derek hale, stiles & the pack

» on my ao3 | word count: 866 | rated: teen & up

» warnings: everyone lives, no one dies!, swearing, guilt, bottle feeding

The loft buzzes with voices and a low thrum of music coming from Erica’s speakers she has set up near the end of the couch- an unnecessary touch of pack night but one that’s quickly become a favorite of everyone attending- and Stiles can’t sit still. It’s not the amount of people surrounding him or even the annoyingly loud laughter Peter’s letting out with Isaac following suit, really that doesn’t bother him that much, he’s just… so hungry.

It’s odd for him to ever be hungry like this. They’ve already cleared five boxes of pizza between the entire pack, werewolves truly know no ends when it comes to hunger. The last thing on Stiles’ mind should be food, he should be engaged in the conversation at hand, at the plan of taking down rouge hunters a couple towns over that Allison heard about from Chris. It’s a much more important matter than whatever Stiles is dealing with right now.

Still, even with his attempts at rationalizing his way out of this feeling, he’s annoyed. He’s hungry and annoyed and goddamnit why isn’t anyone picking up on this? Don’t werewolves have heightened senses? Can’t they tell he’s being deprived of food?

“Stiles? You good?” Erica asks, raising a suspicious brow with her head cocked to the side. He opens his mouth to reply that- no, he is not good- but all that comes out is a garbled mess of attempts at words.

It hits him then- he’s regressed. That’s why he’s so hungry, so upset about nobody swooping in to tend to his needs right this second, and can’t talk properly. A sudden wave of guilt washes over him with the realization.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. His regression has been something he pointedly plans out and keeps on a strict schedule so that it doesn’t interfere with anything to do with the pack, sure they all know he’s a little, but only Derek, Scott and Peter ever get to see his little side. There’s higher stakes when it comes to the other members of the pack- he needs them to trust him, to see him as strong, dependable, not a little kid who needs someone to get him a packet of apple sauce or else he’ll throw a hissy fit. (He won’t do that, he tells himself, but deep down knows that he’s about an hour without food away from it)

All the heads in the room turn to Stiles at his random-noises-trying-to-pass-as-words and Stiles knows that there’s no way he’ll be able to make a run for it now. He sits and watches all their werewolf noses twitch in the air, sans Allison who just stares knowingly; and searches for that signature ‘regression scent’ as Derek and Scott put it. They find it, Stiles knew they would, yet he gets the sudden urge to curl up in a ball and never let anyone look at him again.

“Hey bud, you feeling small?” Derek’s hand is big and familiar on Stiles’ cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles against the burning red skin as Stiles blushes in embarrassment and ducks his eyes away. His stomach growls and brings him back to the real issue at hand, he’s still hungry.

“Want another piece of pizza?” Boyd smiles softly as he speaks, he’s standing by the last box of pizza that has maybe three slices left. Stiles isn’t sure how to communicate that he isn’t feeling big enough for pizza, or any solid foods, he wants a bottle. It’s the only thing he’d be able to manage right now.

“Or some cheesy bread? I can heat it back up.” Allison suggests, Stiles blinks in surprise that she’s actually offering her cheesy bread that is solely bought for her and nobody else- the pack has already devoured their own box of it.

“I can smell that you’re hungry, what do you want?” Derek moves his hand to brush through Stiles’ hair and a very ill-directed spike of frustration flares in Stiles’ chest at Derek. He can’t get the words out properly, he just wants a bottle, he’s so hungry and feels like he could burst into sobs any second, and- and Derek should know. Stiles needs Derek to know what he wants without him having to say it.

“Here, give him this.” Scott passes a heated bottle over to Peter who hands it to Derek. And Stiles has never loved his best friend more than this moment, Scott’s too busy blowing loose formula powder onto Erica and Isaac to see Stiles gratefully smile at him- he makes a mental note to say something when he’s big enough to have an actual conversation again.

“McCall always knows.” Derek mumbles and sits in the corner of the couch next to Stiles, readily opening his arms so Stiles can curl up against his chest and greedily take the bottle between his lips.

It’s pure bliss the second he starts to drink it down. He hears Derek mutter to Peter to make another one because he’s drinking this one much faster than he normally does but Stiles doesn’t care, he’s just happy he doesn’t have to wail on the floor to get what he wants.

[untitledmemes]

Hazbin Hotel Prompts

Part II An assortment of prompts taken from the series Hazbin Hotel on Amazon Prime. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. In case of Multimuse, don't forget to specify which one/s. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ That looks perfect! ”

“ What the hell is that? ”

“ Everyone is being too nice. Obviously, it must be a lie. ”

“ I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when? How? I must be prepared! ”

“ People are being nice because they want you to feel welcome. ”

“ No, don't resist. This is how it has to be. ”

“ Do you mind? I'm in the middle of breakfast. ”

“ I'm not about to put on a show for these fucking chumps. ”

“ Actually, I thought maybe you could take the lead on this one. ”

“ I swear to fuck if you say dicks--! ”

“ Get your mind out of the gutter. ”

“ I don't know if this is really working they way we hoped. ”

“ Honey, you have to trust me here. ”

“ What's the plan, boss? ”

“ It has been age since thou hath graced us with thy presence. ”

“ It's fun to keep everyone on their toes. ”

“ Coming from someone as ancient as you, I take it as quite the compliment. ”

“ We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest. ”

“ Yes I know, I've been absent for some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering. ”

“ Where did you get this? ”

“ You better show some respect. ”

“ You've got it twisted. I'm not the one who needs a new attitude. ”

“ Mad that I acted respectless? Well, it's cause no one could respect this. ”

“ You're long past trending. ”

“ Why are you avoiding war? ”

“ No bond stronger than those formed through bondage. ”

“ I'm ready to punish some bad boys. ”

“ This is how you learned to trust people?! ”

“ There is nothing stronger than the trust between comrades and arms. ”

“ I took charge today and it all went sideways. ”

“ I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to never fail you. ”

“ Ugh! I just walked up all those stairs! ”

“ I did what I had to do. I'm not discussing this. ”

“ Who's to say who'll survive the fray? I might lose the ones that I was killing for. ”

“ I'll be your armor. ”

“ Let's keep this between us, shall we? ”

“ Well, at least you can take a beating like a champ. ”

“ Thank you for pulling me out of there. ”

“ It's hilarious you think I'll tell you anything. ”

“ What makes you think you have any right to insult my work to my fuckin' face? ”

“ I see right through you and all that bullshit, and how fake you are. ”

“ I'm sure you'll manage without me. ”

“ Maybe you can, I don't know... Command some authority? ”

“ It's not mean. It's, uh... Aggressive kindness. ”

“ Oh, so this is where the magic happens. ”

“ You don't want a role, do you? Because I can make you a star. ”

“ You bring her here to protect you? To fuck with me? ”

“ I own you. Or have you forgotten that? ”

“ I didn't want you to come here. I already asked you to leave and you didn't listen. You made things worse. ”

“ Any way you want me, baby, that's the way you got me. ”

“ Didn't realize this was a 'drinking to forget' kind of night. ”

“ If you got a problem, you're not gonna find the solution at the bottom of a bottle. ”

“ You would be lucky to get a chance to fuck me! ”

“ Have fun being a lonely piece of shit. ”

“ Be a doll and bring me another one? Daddy's outta juice. ”

“ You think I ask for it? I don't ask for any of this shit! ”

“ You might as well just cut the act. ”

“ It's not an act! This is who I need to be! And this? This is my escape. ”

“ I know what it's like to regret the choices made and knowing you can't take it back. ”

“ You're a loser just like me. ”

“ You're a power bottom at rock bottom, but you got company. ”

“ I'm trapped and it gets worse with every hour. ”

“ Eat lead, sucker! ”

“ I can handle myself, baby. ”

“ Sex ain't the only thing I'm good at. ”

“ Thanks... for caring about me. ”

“ Hey, how about that drink? ”

[pisspope]

been writing this off and on for about a month and now im finally... finally finished

Waffle House Hashbrowns (Smothered & Covered)

reiner x reader

cw: afab reader, fem reader (wears skirt, gets called a good girl) softdom reiner, spit kink, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, mdni

"You want me to what?"

"You heard me. I want you to spit on me next time we have sex."

Reiner is bamboozled, flabbergasted, stupefied. Him? Spit on you? The person he loves most on this earth? Why would he do that?

"You must be joking."

"No, I'm not. I think it'd be really hot."

Reiner blinks twice, slowly. This makes no sense. "But why would I do that?"

You sigh, sit up on your shared bed. "Because I want you to and it's sexy? If it makes you uncomfortable we don't have to."

Reiner swallows hard, feeling backed into a corner of his own creation. He wants to please you in every way possible, and that means never degrading or disrespecting you. But if the only way to please you is to degrade you, well, he can't exactly say no. He touches your arm, gently keeping you in place. "No, I'll do it. I'll do it for you."

You laugh lightly, move your other hand to lay on top of his. "You don't need to be so serious about this, Rei. It's supposed to be fun!"

"Sorry," he says, hanging his head. "Just have trouble. You know I never want to make you feel lesser. You... you mean everything to me."

You pout a little without thinking. He's so sweet sometimes it borders on saccharine. You turn to him, bring all of him that will fit into your smaller frame into a tight hug. "I know how you feel, baby. That's... kind of why I want to try this with you. Because I trust you. I know you won't do anything I don't feel comfortable with."

He digs his chin into the crook of your neck, and you can feel his cheeks burning. He can give you all the flowery words in the world, let you know without a doubt that he's wrapped around your finger, but the second you reciprocate he's a mess. "I said I'll do it. No need to make me cry about it."

You chuckle, knowing that's not just an empty threat. Ever since he confessed his feelings, he's let everything show right on his sleeve, letting you into his inner world without a second thought. "All right, start getting hydrated." You pull away, run a hand through his hair. "I just know your spit is salty from all those peanuts."

He looks shocked, face in a comical 'o'. "What do you mean? I've barely touched the container in the pantry."

"Yeah? And what about the empty one in the trashcan?"

You watch the blush rush up from the line of his t-shirt to his cheeks. Busted. He looks away, defeated. "I'll go fill up my water bottle."

---

It was your normal weekend routine: wake up, run errands that couldn't be done during the work week, come home and get ready for your date night, have a great time with your man, profit. Only your profit margins tonight? Exponential, unprecedented gains.

Reiner's hands are exploring every inch of you the second the front door is closed, keys flung to the floor, leftovers all but forgotten on a side table.

"Can't wait to get you in bed," he murmurs, breath hot on the bare skin of your shoulder. "Gonna make you feel so good, promise."

You almost want to giggle, because this is so unlike him, to be so domineering and borderline possessive, but you're too into it to break the tension. He's trying something new for you, and you're as grateful as you are turned on. Before you can encourage him to keep going, he's swung you back into his arms fully, head close enough to his chest that you can feel the erratic beating of his heart.

And Reiner's nothing if not a man of his word. He picks you up bridal style, one arm doing most of the heavy lifting around your shoulders, while the other grips firmly into the meat of your ass. He ascends the stairs to your shared bedroom on muscle memory, his eyes too busy drinking you in to give mind to much else.

"So beautiful," he whispers, like he can't help himself. He hesitates on the top step, bringing you down to rest your bottom on the bend of his knee. He uses the added support to lean his head down, catching your lips in a deep kiss. "And all mine."

It only takes a few more steps before you're at the foot of your bed, and Reiner hesitates. He chuckles nervously, dances from one foot to the other. "I, uh, forgot to take my shoes off," he breathes, and you realize you're in the same predicament. "Just got too caught up in it."

Before you can assure him that it's fine, it's okay, his mouth is on yours. He's kissing you like he's starved for it, hands dancing excitedly at your waist, your shoulders, your breasts, anywhere he can touch. A well-timed squeeze of your inner thigh forces a small moan from your throat, and he takes that opportunity to plunge his tongue into you, tasting and exploring further. His knee pushes your legs open while he attacks your mouth, grinding lightly against you, just enough to tease.

You look up at him and laugh lightly, adjusting in his arms to kick off your shoes. The two of you had gone to a local restaurant in nicer outfits, but it certainly wasn't a black tie affair. Blouse and skirt for you, button-up and jeans for him. He lays you down gently, toes off his loafers and pushes them under the bed, always the gentleman.

"Sorry," he mutters, wasting no time in clambering on top of you. "Don't want to track mud in the house."

He breaks the kiss to come up for air, a trail of spit connecting your mouths. He glances at it, then smiles at you, eyes hooded. "This what you were talking about?"

You nod up at him, too love drunk to speak. "More," you manage to breathe out, hands snaking up his arms to rest on his shoulderblades, familiar and comfortable.

His smile morphs into a smirk, and those deep golden eyes go dark. "Greedy," he whispers, face impossibly close. He brings a hand to your cheek, caresses it with a feather light touch, before bringing his thumb to your lower lip and pulling your mouth open. "You'll take what I give you."

He leans down like he's going to kiss your open mouth, but instead he sucks in his cheeks, puckers his lips, and slowly lets the spit that coats his mouth drool into your own. With his lips in your mouth and his thumb holding you open, you have no choice but to take it, its warmth pooling and spreading into every corner of you. It's not spitting on you per se, but it is unbearably intimate. Exactly what you'd expect from a man like Reiner.

He breaks away again, taking that same thumb and hand to force your mouth closed. "Swallow," he orders. You comply without a second thought, throat bobbing as you take it all into you. Reiner can't help the little moan that leaves him, seeing you so obedient and hazy-eyed from just the taste of him. He's gonna lose his mind. He can barely huff out a "good girl" as he's unbuttoning your blouse.

And for someone who usually relinquishes all control to you in the bedroom, Reiner is remarkably good at this. Blouse removed, he pulls up your bra and dives for your breasts, licking and sucking and making lewd noises you seldom hear from him. His hands circle around your back, unhooking your bra with the dexterity of a professional. Which, with how much he lavishes over your boobs, may as well be the truth.

Without thinking you respond in kind, bringing your hands up to his collar and working your way down. His blond chest hair peeks out around button four, and you have to resist the urge to grab him by it and pull him close, to devour him in even more open mouthed kisses.

Not tonight. You remind yourself. He's in control.

Breasts now fully freed, he takes one in his mouth and brings his hand to play with the other. He's always been good at this, knows when to pinch and suck and fondle and which spots hit just right, but tonight is different. He's using his tongue more, applying pressure to your nipples and taking as much of you in his mouth as he can. Leaving large open mouthed kisses up and down your chest, pulling away and leaving circles of spit in his wake. He's not just giving your breasts some extra attention; he's smothering them in his saliva, marking them as his own.

And apparently this is something he intends to rectify immediately. With one hand still massaging your breast, the other lifts up the hem of your skirt, revealing your lacy underwear that you had worn just for the occasion. "Oh, baby," he coos at the sight. "Did you get all dolled up just for me?"

The realization alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine, but when he works his way back up to plant a kiss on the shell of your ear and call you his pretty girl, well. You can't help the desperate whine that escapes you. He pulls back to look down at you, lips red and puffy from overuse.

"That good, huh?" He says, voice cocky but expression still so gentle, still so him. "I haven't even touched you yet. I mean really touched you."

You nod, trying not to blush at his honeyed words. He's always loved to praise you in bed, to call you pretty and sweet and all manner of compliments, but the tone tonight is so different. It's not the kind affirmations of an attentive lover, it's the reading of your rights, the growl of a predator circling its prey. And maybe if it were someone else it would scare you, but with Reiner all it does is send a fierce heat straight to your core.

Gently, delicately, he hooks two fingers around the middle of your panties and brings them down, and he can't suppress his groan when he feels the slick that coats the inside. "You're so wet for me. How long have you been like this?"

You look away, embarrassed. "Since we left for our date. I've kind of been looking forward to this."

He chuckles at your confession as he slides your underwear the rest of the way down. "Well," he starts, stowing your panties away in the back pocket of his jeans. "I hope I can live up to your expectations."

You swallow hard, meeting his gaze. "You have so far."

"Good," he says firmly, pulling your legs apart farther with both hands. "Let's try to keep up that momentum."

Without another word, Reiner ducks down to the heat of your cunt, flattening his tongue and licking a thick stripe from your hole to your clit. You moan at the sensation, bring your hand to his head on instinct. But he isn't having that, and swats your hand away with a growl, the low rumble vibrating in all the right ways. He brings his head up, eyes dark and serious, the stain of your precum already wetting his beard.

"No, princess," he says it with stern authority, but makes it a point to bring his right hand to intertwine with yours. "I'm in charge."

He returns to eating you out with an animalistic hunger, working his tongue in between your folds while the sharp bridge of his nose keeps a constant pressure on your aching clit. One hand is still laced in yours while the other rubs small circles around your labia, running up your inner thigh and back down. Reiner is pleasuring you, make no mistake, but the moans that leave his body as he ravishes your insides with his wet muscle assure you that the feeling is mutual.

"Taste so good," you both hear and feel him say, the prickle of his facial hair equally ticklish and arousing. "Want you to cum on my face."

He brings his fingers out of his mouth slowly, with a wet pop, looking annoyed. "I'm sorry," he says sarcastically, leaning down so his head hovers above you. "I thought you wanted my spit, sweetheart. Are you sure yours will do?"

He pulls away after that, causing you to whine at the lost contact. How were you supposed to do what he asked under these conditions? But then you see him take three of his own fingers in his mouth, licking and sucking on them like they're heavensent.

"Reiiii," you whine out, missing his touch. "I can do that for you, c'mon. Lemme taste you, pleaseeeee."

You nod quickly, just wanting his familiar heat back, his taste, his touch, anything. And maybe Reiner's too soft on you, but he relents, sliding those same fingers in your mouth and letting you have your way with them. You take them in greedily, the taste of his skin and spit melding in your mouth deliciously. He should probably do something now, praise you for how good you take him or rub small circles on your clit, but all he can do is stare. At you, so blissed out on just the taste of him, eyes closed and enjoying every sensation. This must be love, he thinks.

Satisfied, you release his fingers from your mouth, pretend you don't notice his eyes boring into you. "Thank you," you breathe, moving his sopping fingers to the bud of your clit. "Please."

Since you asked so nicely, and also because he wants to, needs to touch you, he does as you ask, massaging that bundle of nerves in a way that makes you writhe. A wanton moan leaves your lips, a sound that he can't wait to snatch with his own mouth, kissing you deeply as his fingers dance in perfect rhythm. You can taste yourself in him, can feel the moistness of your own pre on the itch of his stubble. It's intoxicating. He's intoxicating.

Soon, you feel that same hand start to drift lower down, two fingers circling around your hole teasingly. You squirm under his delicate touch, a motion that causes him to break away from the haven of your mouth. He looks down at you, eyes dark and analytical, thinking. Maybe this is where he's supposed to punish you for being so bad, supposed to degrade and deride you for your naughty behavior, but he just can't bring himself to do it. Instead, he furrows his brows and ducks back down to your heat, licking around your entrance and peppering your thighs in tiny kisses. And just when you're about to beg for more, for him to just give you what you need please, he plunges two fingers and his tongue deep into you, working everything he has in tandem to bring you to an insurmountable high.

"Reiner," you breathe, a whispered plea to the man below you who is making you come undone with every thrust of his thick fingers, every pulse of his tongue. He's just so fucking good at this. "Reiner, I, fuck, so good."

He hums in approval, stares you down over the slope of your mound, looking hungry and desperate. "C'mon, pretty girl," he growls into you, the pace of his fingers increasing rapidly. "Cum for me baby."

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue returns to your core, fingers curling and hitting the spot that makes you scream every time. He's finger fucking you at a breakneck pace, the wet schlick, schlick, schlick sound of his thrusts accompanied by the sloppy licks and sucks of his lips and tongue. The lewd noises are all you can hear, all you can focus on, and it sends you careening towards your release. You cry out, feeling yourself clench around his thick fingers, vision going white. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, mouth glued to the lips of your heat, slurping and moaning as he swallows every last drop of your cum. Your head lolls back as you work through every sensation, lost in the depths of unadulterated pleasure.

When you finally get back down to earth, you're almost sent back into the stratosphere by the sight in front of you. Reiner, with his lips pursed, eyes wide and dark, chest heaving, gripping onto your knee with one hand as he undoes his belt with the other. His skin is beaded with sweat, his golden chest hair clumping and curling up in places where your cum has dried, his beard hair glinting with more of the same. He looks like a Greek god, honey eyes raking over you like you're his concubine, his sacrifice.

You sigh, taking him all in as he unbuttons his jeans and shrugs them off along with his boxers. His cock springs out like it's fucking hydraulic, slapping against the bare skin of his stomach and leaking precum onto his navel. It looks so damn needy, the tip so red its verging on purple, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle a moan just at thought of it being in you.

He looks down at you, mouth still closed, and it leaves you a little confused. Shouldn't he say something right about now, about how he can't wait to fuck you stupid, can't wait to feel you cumming around him? It's only when he leans over you, lining up at your entrance, and spits your own slick onto your stomach that you realize why. "Oh, fuck, Reiner," you groan out, completely involuntarily. He smirks at the exclamation, rubs a hand over the wet spot, covering you further in his spit and your cum.

"You like this?" he asks, already knowing the answer. "You like being smothered in my spit? Like being marked? Like, ugh, knowing who you belong to?" He slides into you slow as he speaks, still gripping one of your knees to keep himself from falling apart, from just letting himself go and pistoning into you with reckless abandon.

"Yes, fuck, God, yes, I do," you reply, hoping it'll motivate him to keep this going. It's so rare for him to talk to you like this, so possessive and so filthy, it never fails to drive you wild. You claw your hands into the sheets as you take every thick inch of his shaft, ecstatic at the feeling of him bottoming out, tip already brushing against your cervix. "Feels s' good Rei."

"Good, good," he drawls, trying to respond but overcome by the waves of pleasure starting to thrum around him. He leans down, rests his head into the crook of your neck and starts rocking into you slow and steady, suckling at your neck gently. "You feel good too baby. Can't believe this pussy is, mm, all mine. Can't believe you're all mine."

His eyes go wide and he smiles, pure and genuine. "Oh, thank God," he sighs, sitting up and immediately pulling your legs up to his ears for better access. "I figured I should wait for you to beg but I need you so bad honey you have no idea."

He keeps this pace for a while, gives you space to breathe between every determined thrust, holding your head in his hand while he gives you a hickey that will be impossible to cover up. His stomach slides against yours as he pushes into you, causing the spit and slick to crust and dry, a reminder with each movement of the way he's marked you. And it's unbearably hot, practically a fantasy come true, but you need more.

"Reiner," you murmur, waiting for him to retreat from the comfort of your neck to look you in the eye. "Fuck me? Please?"

He absolutely fucks into you after that, setting a punishing pace that has you seeing stars. He uses one hand to hold up one of your legs, the other pushed into the mattress beside your head, taking every bit of leverage he can to fuck you as hard and as deep as possible. The whole bed groans and creaks under the pressure of his thrusts, and you sympathize with moans and cries of your own. You reach a hand out to Reiner, hoping to ground yourself with his touch, but he shakes his head, opting instead to push your knees up and thrust into you even deeper than before.

"Look at you," he huffs out, every word punctuated by another jab of his cock. "All fucked out for me. You really are all mine, aren't you?"

Finally grabbing onto his arm, you whine and bob your head, already knowing what he's going to ask. "Go ahead," you rasp out, trying to keep it together. "Cum in me, Reiner."

You nod, tears prickling at your eyes from the rampant pleasure washing over you. You don't trust yourself to speak right now, you know all that will come out are broken cries and pleas for him to keep going. Instead you watch him with hungry eyes, rapt attention all on him as his thrusts become sloppy and messy, his own golden eyes struggling to stay focused.

"I-" he swallows, trying to keep composed through it all. "I've made you mine, marked you every way I can. Except one."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He presses into you hard and fast, chasing his high with cries of your name, a sound so filled with need it sends you tumbling towards your own release. You feel his white hot seed shoot into you in spurts, every rope of his cum a sign of his possession of you, inside and out. It's ecstasy.

Eventually, his hips still, and he looks to you, mouth open and eyes wide. "Was, uh," he breathes out, trying to collect himself. "Was that what you were thinking of? Did I do okay?"

He smiles, brings your other hands to his lips and catches your knuckles in a chaste kiss. "I think," he pauses, trying to find the right words. "I liked it too."

You laugh despite yourself, because of course it was okay, it was way better than okay. You bring him close to you, both of you soft and pliable after the workout, and he quickly gets comfortable with his head on your chest.

"That was amazing, sweetheart." you say, kissing the top of his head, fingers playing in the loose strands stuck to his forehead. "Thank you so much."

You snort, a little derisive. "You came a lot for someone who only 'thinks' they liked it."

Reiner blushes, buries his face in-between your breasts. "Okay," he says, muffled. "I liked it a lot."

He beams at you, absolutely fucking radiant, like you hung the moon and the stars, then scoots up to kiss you once on the lips, deeply. "I love you, Y/N."

You smile wide, feel it stretching the corners of your cheeks. How dare he cum in you like a dog in heat and then immediately act like the cutest dopiest baby in the world.

"Hey," you mutter, blushing at the way he looks up at you. "I bought you more peanuts."

"I love you too, Reiner."

[katsus-world]

Comfort.

Genre: angst (kinda) and fluff

Warnings: cussing and lots of crying 😭 also bakugou may be slightly out of character (?) I’m not sure

“You know I love you right?” Those words shook your heart as you looked at katsuki with glossy eyes. The feeling of your stomach dropping, his hand caressing your cheek. The calloused digits buring your already tear-stained face as he removes his hand.

All day you’ve been avoiding katsuki, all day you haven’t said a word to him. Or anyone else for that matter.

He was worried to say the least. You didn’t even answer his Goodmorning text or walk up to him during breakfast. His own head rushing through millions of thoughts as to why you haven’t uttered a peep to him, or any of your friends.

You sigh, nodding as that’s really the only thing you can do at the moment, not wanting to say anything because if you do, sobs will escape.

Katsuki’s frown deepens at you not responding. He knows that he didn’t do anything wrong at this point. Seeing you walk to your bed, looking at him expectingly. The blankets pushed to the side, welcoming him in onto the mattress.

Walking over, the ash blonde lays down. His arms caging you in as you bury your head into his chest.

The overwhelming feeling of everything that’s been stressing you out came crashing the second his muscular arms wrapped around your figure.

Sobs filled Katsuki’s ears as you let everything out. Shaking as fat hot tears rolled down your cheek once again.

Your fits balling up the backside of his shirt as you weep. His hands rubbing circles on your back, knowing that you’ve been having this pent up.

Katsuki knows you all too well, one of the things he’s found most comforting about you is that you both are very similar on how you handle your emotions.

Always keeping things bottled in, always staying quiet when something is bothering you. Only speaking up when necessary, there are days where you just don’t feel like conversing with people and that’s totally fine with the both of you.

He understands how you feel, reminding him of when he blew up on deku, after All Might retiring.

He didn’t like the fact that you were in pain right now though. And he knew that he couldn’t do anything but be there for you, letting you bawl all over his shirt, and pull him closer as your sobs grew louder.

“It’s ok baby, I got you.” The blonde looked down to you. Feeling his heart ache as he saw your eyes. Red with exhaustion and worry. The sounds of your wails are something he never wants to hear, burning his ears as his chest tightens.

“M’ so sorry Kat!” You let out through sobs. You didn’t mean to ignore him all day. Or anyone for that matter. But everything has been so overwhelming, the feeling of not being able to breath followed you everywhere today.

Being engulfed in a dark empty and cold mindset as you couldn’t pay attention in class. Having to excuse yourself and sprint down the hall to the restroom, shutting the stall and taking deep breaths like if you were about to be submerged into the deep ocean.

All of this being ticked off from the agency you were supposed to be training with. The pro hero giving you harsh comments and criticism on something that wasn’t your fault. His words crushing your self esteem as he said you were never going to make it onto the pro hero’s charts.

“That’s your stance? Are you trying get killed on your first day?”

“The hell was that fighting?! You can’t do that and expect everything to be fine!” All you could do was be quiet and nod. Frustration and anger bubbling up inside you as you look at the “mess” you apparently made.

There was a rock on a fire extinguisher. One that you didn’t even throw, it was his side kick.

On your last day there, the pro hero came up to your desk. Knocking rudely on the wood to get your attention.

“You know when I saw you at the sports festival, I thought you were so much better than this.. turns out you’re just another pretty face. You’ll never make it out in the real world l/n. I expected better from you. Goodbye and don’t let the door hit you out!” Walking away, his hand was in the air signaling you to get the hell out already.

All you could do was stand up and grab your things, quickly leaving the stupid building as you bit down on your lip. Trying to stop the tears that were spilling out.

That was two days ago. When you came back to the dorms, you made your way straight to your room. Not bothering to stay down with everyone else to share about the agency. Or to talk to your teacher, Mr. Aizawa about the pro hero and his unprofessionalism.

Instead you locked yourself in, finally letting your feelings out, dropping onto your bed until you passed out.

At least now you were with your boyfriend, in his arms as he comforted you, in his own way.

“About what? What’s wrong y/n?” His voice was laced with concern, pulling you out of his soaked shirt, he looked at you with heavy eyes.

Trying to calm down you sit up, chest heaving up and down as you tried catching your breath. Katsuki’s hands cupping yours, feeling his palms sweatier than usual.

“Stupid pro hero!” His words wrung through your head.

“Don’t push yourself if you ain’t ready. I can wait” a sense of relief fell on katsuki as now he knew for a fact it wasn’t his fault for you feeling like this.

“He said I wasn’t good enough to be a hero.” Your voice was quiet as you but your lips. The metallic taste making you tastebuds quiver with disgust.

“He said what?! You’re crying over that?” Widened scarlet eyes look at your still shaken up state. Worry quickly being replaced with anger.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?! He’s a nobody y/n don’t listen to that extra ass pro hero! You’re more than capable of being a hero, don’t let that nobody get to you..” Katsuki’s words were harsh but you know he didn’t mean it like that.

“Go to sleep. I know you must be tired from today, but tomorrow I’m taking you to go talk to Aizawa. That dumbass needs to watch what he says.” A low growl rumbled from the blondes chest.

You laid back down on your bed, looking at your boyfriend to join you. Taking off his shirt as it had your tears all over it, thinking about how wet it probably was right now.

You rest your head on his bare chest as he pulls youu on top of him. His arms finding home on the sides of your hips. Knowing that you’ll be snoring in no time, he gives you a peck on the forehead.

“I love you dumbass, don’t take that dumb shit to heart.” Sighing, you nod.

“I love you too katsuki, thank you for being here right now.” He lets out a grunt in response and not long after, soft snores fill his ears. His eyes drifting off, your body still in his arms as his lids close.

༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶

I gave up at the end but this was a little self indulged. I was sad LMAO 😭 not proof read so sorry for any misspellings 😞🙏

[pocketjoong]

HIIII SKYY i hope youre doing well !!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

for... your recent post... for ateez 5th anniversary... what about stargazing with one of the members ??2?2!?2 stargazing seems so cute and ive been in my hopeless romantic mood HAHSHAH stargazing with... yeosang maybe ?!2?!/2 or anyone ?!2?/!2!2 or all of them ??2?2?2 (much love to youuu btwwww 💗)

Thank you for your request, dea <33 I kinda wanted to write an ot8, but then I realised it would be kinda messy T^T (read: sky is not as funny as she thinks she is and scraped the crack!ot8!stargazing au asdfghjkl). I hope you enjoy regardless ^-^ @jaehunnyy my love, my baby, than you for beta-reading this for me. (You know what's coming next, bubba ehehehe /lh)

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): Stargazing with Yeosang!

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) idol!yeosang x gn!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): fluff. friends to lovers.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) FLUFF. Yeosang is whipped. Reader is whipped. Mentions of scary amusement park rides. WooSan being WooSan. Lmk if I missed anything ksksks

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 1.4k

Gasping for breath, you stumble out of the roller coaster, your heart racing and pounding in your ears. You cling to Yeosang for support, your legs feeling like jelly as the world swirls around you. A wave of dizziness threatens to send you tumbling to the ground, but you steady yourself with a deep breath.

As the adrenaline subsides, you can feel his comforting hand rubbing your back gently. His soothing gesture allows your focus to shift away from the queasy feeling in your stomach, and you momentarily forget the whirlwind of the roller coaster.

“That was…” you begin, still trying to find your words in the aftermath of the exhilarating ride.

“Thrilling, right?” Wooyoung’s voice cuts through the haze. He drapes his arms casually around San’s shoulder, whose expression is clouded with worry as he watches you.

“Speak for yourself,” Yeosang chides Wooyoung, guiding you to a nearby bench and handing you a water bottle. 

San rolls his eyes and lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head at Wooyoung’s enthusiasm. “I’m not really scared of heights, but that ride did make me a bit queasy, too. Honestly, how are you still so bouncy after all the thrilling rides we’ve gone on?”

“That’s because nothing can bring me down,” he declares with unwavering confidence, striking a dramatic pose that sends you into fits of laughter. His cheerfulness is contagious, and you can’t help but be amused by his antics.

“Aish, what are we supposed to do with you?” you quip, playfully swatting his arm. It is in moments like these that make your friendship with Wooyoung all the more special.

Wooyoung’s laughter fills the air, a melodious sound that perfectly complements the joyful atmosphere of the amusement park. The boys begin to don their masks while you make your way back towards the parking lot. Yeosang falls into step with you, his arm gently sliding around your waist. The contact sends a rush of warmth through you, and you can feel the heat creep up your neck. Gratefully, you welcome the cover of the dimly lit evening, concealing your reaction from Yeosang’s view. The simple gesture, unnoticed by Wooyoung and San, who seem to be arguing about something trivial, fills your stomach with butterflies as you walk side by side.

As the two males pile into the car belonging to Wooyoung, Yeosang chooses to slip into the passenger seat of your car instead. You look at him in question, slightly confused, for he had arrived with the other two earlier in the morning.

“Y/N?” His voice carries a note of hesitance, capturing your attention as you navigate the car out of the parking lot after bidding farewell to the other two guys with a non-committal wave. You respond with a hum, signalling him to continue. “I was wondering if you would like to go somewhere?”

“Somewhere?” You echo, your curiosity piqued as you cast a fleeting glance in his direction.

He hums softly, biting his lip as he mulls over what to say. “Remember the clearing we found when I was a trainee during one of our hikes? Let’s go there.”

A warm smile plays upon your lips as you consider his suggestion, “Alrighty.”. 

You take a U-turn at the next traffic light, moving further away from the city’s relentless hustle and bustle. The towering skyscrapers of Seoul recede into the horizon, and the scenery changes as the cool night air rustles your hair.

The highway stretches before you bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. It offers a serene and uninterrupted passage through the stillness of the evening, like a canvas bathed in silvery hues. Yet, a silent, unspoken connection thrives within the confines of your car. Yeosang’s gaze remains locked on you. Unseen by you is the yearning that simmers in the depths of his captivating eyes as he watches you navigate the road.

A cursory glance at your companion alerts you to his gaze on you, and determined to quell the blush that threatens to betray your own emotions, you break the silence that envelops you both. “We’re almost here.”

He responds with a quiet hum, his eyes now gazing at the landscape outside the window. The already scarce buildings are replaced by trees and thick undergrowth. You park the car in a convenient spot, and Yeosang wastes no time taking out a blanket from the backseat of your vehicle. He reaches for your hand when you walk up to him, and the two of you hike up the hill like this, with your hand safely in Yeosang’s grasp. His warm touch contrasts sharply with the frigid bite of the night air on your cheeks. Once you reach the clearing you guys had discovered a few weeks before his debut, he spreads the blanket on the grass and lies down.

“Come on,” He pats the empty space beside him. You join him, looking at the beautiful night sky studded with countless stars. The stars above flicker in the vast, dark canvas of the night sky, and you both lie there, basking in the tranquillity of the moment, sharing this cherished place that had become your secret sanctuary, away from the weight of responsibilities and worries that plague you otherwise.

A few moments later, you turn to face Yeosang, who is bathed in the bright moonlight, looking otherworldly at best. You can’t help but admire how the moonlight accentuates his features, imbuing him with an unearthly radiance. It lights up his cheekbones and the sharp line of his jaw, rendering him even more striking than he already is. Even the shadows that dance across his form lend him an air of nobility and majesty.

As if aware of his gaze, Yeosang turns to you, his eyes alight with something you can’t seem to put your finger down on. His lips curve into a warm smile, mirroring the fondness that radiates from his gaze. “Hi.”

The huskiness of his voice acts like a gentle caress against your senses, making your breath hitch. Yeosang hums in amusement, smiling softly at you, drawing you to himself like a moth to a flame. It’s as if he has stepped out of a dream, ethereal and radiant, and the sheer beauty of the moment is nearly overwhelming in its intensity.

“Hi,” you repeat, your voice more shaky than you had hoped it would be.

Yeosang fully turns to his side, popping his head up with his hand, while the other finds its place upon your cheek, his thumb tenderly stroking your skin. Ablaze with unmistakable love and yearning, the intensity of his eyes is a force that gently tugs at your heartstrings until you can’t help but close your own.

“Y/N,” he breathes.

You open your eyes, a myriad of unspoken thoughts and feelings swirling within you. But Yeosang’s thumb sweeps across your bottom lip with a tender, delicate touch as if casting a spell over your senses, leaving you in a state of breathless enchantment. It takes an immense effort for you to not close your eyes again.

Your answering hum is laced with curiosity and a touch of anticipation. 

A brief pause lingers, stretching into seconds that feel like an eternity. But when he speaks, Yeosang’s voice carries a weight of sincerity. “I like you so much,” he confesses softly, his words echoing into the velvety night. “I’ve liked you since the moment I saw you, and with time, my feelings have only grown stronger. I’m sorry if it’s sudden, but I can’t hide it anymore. I don’t expect anything in return from you. You can say no—”

You can't contain the cascade of emotions swirling within you, and you find yourself cutting off his words, needing him to know your fondness for him that you had kept to yourself for so long. “I like you, Yeo,” you breathe out; the suddenness of your words leaves him wide-eyed.

“Huh?” he stammers, caught off guard by your revelation.

“I like you, too, dummy,” an affectionate laugh escapes your lips as you look at his bewildered expression, which slowly gives way to the most radiant smile you’ve ever witnessed on his face.

“Are you sure? I won’t be able to offer you everything a boyfriend can,” his tone is soft and genuine as he seeks confirmation. His words bring butterflies to your stomach, and your eyes line with unshed tears.

Without hesitation, you reach up to cradle his face, “I don’t care about the fact that we can’t go out in public or the possibility of us having to go months without seeing each other. What matters to me is that you're mine, and I'll treasure every precious moment we share, no matter how fleeting or infrequent.”

In response, Yeosang leans in, drawing you into a sweet and tender kiss. The stars above seem to wink knowingly, as if they, too, are celebrating this newfound connection, their celestial light bestowing a blessing upon the two of you.

[maethegay]

Make up

A/n: I am no good at skincare, make up or fashion but I tried gang please forgive also this is way longer than I thought it was gonna be oops.

I grew up with two parents in the army and my two older brothers. We moved around a lot I never really made friends moving every few months or even years made it hard.

I was also incredibly socially awkward so that didn’t help when it came to making friends. I had my brothers and basketball to me that was enough.

I was six when my dad got me my first basketball. He taught me a few things and I became obsessed. Every day after school I’d go to the court near my house and spend hours dribbling and shooting. Some times my brothers came but they had their own things.

Caleb my oldest brother made friends super easy he always managed to have a group of people around him. And Adam my younger brother liked soccer. He tried to teach me to play but it was not for me.

Anyway due to the fact I struggled to make friends and the only people I talked to where my parents and brothers I never learned how to do anything with make up or fashion.

Not that I didn’t try. Whenever I did I ended up looking like a little boy. I did prefer a more masculine dress but I could never find an outfit that fit me. I am ashamed to admit but I do have more than one Nike tech outfit in my closet.

When Geno recruited me from UConn it was like a dream. I first got to the team and I was so awkward but Nika helped. She sat down right next to me and started talking.

She was my first friend and she helped me make friends on the team. And in class and on campus.

Now I was in my last year of college. Me and Nika had been dating for over two years and I had more friends than I thought possible.

My head rested on her chest, her hand gently tangling through my hair. My hand rested on her stomach drawing shapes against her soft skin.

Everything was perfect except one thing. I never really felt pretty. I wanted to do make up and dress how I would think looks good. But whenever I try I just get turned around and confused.

Nika was good at fashion and makeup she always looked good. I had thought about asking her so many times to help me. But it was something I never really knew how to bring up.

Another part of me never bringing it up was pressure from past relationships. When I had tried to do this stuff with past relationships and I had been told no cause ‘Mascs shouldn’t care about that stuff’.

Obviously now being with Nika I know those relationships were toxic but I still couldn’t get rid of the thoughts.But Nika was different I knew she wouldn’t get upset.

“Ni?” I murmur pulling away slightly to look at her. She smiled softly and brushed my hair from my face. “Can you help me with like fashion and stuff. I know I don’t really act like I care but I wanna feel pretty sometimes to ya know.”

Nika gave me a giddy smile cupping my face in her hand. She had asked to do my makeup and skincare before but as you know internalized hate from my exs made me to scared.

“Of course. Tomorrow 8am I’m taking you on a shopping spree and for tonight baby we’re doing skincare.”

I smiled and took her hand dragging her to the bathroom. I jumped up onto the counter and looked at her as she grabbed a bunch of stuff and put it on the counter.

“Frog head band or shark,” she said showing me two fluffy head bands.

“Shark obviously.” I say snatching the head band from her left hand. She smiled and put on the other.

“Now this is definitely not something to do every night. But it is fun once every now and then.” I nod an watch her grab the first bottle turn out this first bottle was like one of a million things we would be doing.

After like 7 other steps she put a face mask on me. I made the horrible mistake of licking my lips.

“Ew Nika this tastes horrible.” I say as I spit in the sink which did not make the horrible soapy taste leave my mouth. Nika laughed and kissed my lips.

“You’re not supposed to get in your mouth.” She laughed and she pulled off the mask. She used a washcloth and rubbed of the extra residue.

There were a few more steps and I was practically falling asleep by the time Nika was done. I smiled leaning my head against her shoulder. I still sat on the counter, Nikas hand scratched my back and she kissed my head.

“Come on baby. Big day tomorrow.” She said, her hands slid under my thighs and lifted me off the counter. I wrapped my arms around her neck.

Nika always made me feel safe and comfortable. She helped me break down my shell and let me feel like I could be well a girl.

She carried me over to the bed and laid me down pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you Nika,” I mumble as I close my eyes pulling our blanket up to cover my face.

“I love you too. I’m glad you feel safe with me.” She said laying behind me. Her hand grabbed my hip and pulled me into her my back colliding with her front.

“Mhm,” I mumble as Nika’s hands dipped under my shirt to trace more shapes on my torso. It’s something she had always done and something I had always loved.

I woke up before Nika she slept comfortably I smiled and pulled her close to me. I held her close to me. My hand gently scratching her back.

I leaned back and looked at the clock it was only 6:30 and I decided I’d let her sleep in awhile longer. I was comfortable and the feeling of the brunette’s body against mine was perfect.

I still struggled to believe she was mine. The Croatian who laid in front of me was simply unfathomable to my mind.

She was actual perfection. She was beautiful, her silky brown hair and big brown doe eyes. She was hilarious without even trying. She so was determined I’ve never seen someone work so hard.

I heard a whine come softly from her mouth, that was how I knew she was walking up. I kissed her head and looked down her big eyes looking at me.

Nika was not a morning person she whines and shut her eyes slamming her head into my chest. I laughed tangling my hand in her hair holding her head against my chest.

“We gotta go shopping baby. Pretty me up and shit,” I whisper, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. She looked up and me glaring slightly.

“You’re already pretty. You just dress like a 10 year old boy.” She said her voice strong with her accent. I smiled and laughed with her. “I’m going to call my parents and then love we’re going shopping.”

“Ok baby,” I say leaning back in the pillows as Nika got up and walked to the bathroom. She always got ready while she talked to her parents.

I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, eventually I fell back asleep. I didn’t even know until I heard Nika laughing her ass off. I peeled my eyes opened and glared at her.

“What is so funny,” I said my voice cracking since I had just woke up again. She laughed and turned her phone to me.

It was a picture of me. Not only was I knocked out asleep, but my mouth was wide open and had hair all over the place.

“Nika Muhl you better delete that,” I say reaching for her phone she turned away pulling it to her chest.

“But you’re so cute,” she said sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. She leans down and kisses my lips.

“You better not show no one that,” I mutter as I stumble to the bathroom. I promptly get ready, brushing my hair and teeth and pulling on some baggy jeans and a white tee. “I’m ready to go shopping,” I say jumping out of the bathroom and looking at Nika who laid on our now made bed.

She looked up from her phone and smiled at me. I walked over and leaned slightly forward again for bed frame.

“I’m so excited. And I ordered Starbucks for while we shop so we need to pick it up.” She tells me grabbing her purse from the night stand. I push myself up and take her hand in mine

We had decided to take Nika’s car since it was better on gas and much smaller than my truck so leaving after shopping at that mall which would be almost certainly packed since it was Saturday would be easier.

I insisted on driving even though she had volunteered. Nika wants to drive most of the time and I’m not complaining but I felt useless if I didn’t. She was planning the whole day to help me the least I could do was drive.

We made a quick stop at the Starbucks just off campus and I ran inside to grab me and Nika’s drinks. She got a matcha of some sort and she had order my favorite drink for me.

The drive to the mall we had decided to go to, well Nika decided we go to was about an hour away from campus. Hence us waking up early to go. We left around 9 so we’d get there just as the shops open.

I’m not one for crowds so going when it’s first opening when there are less people is for the better.

The whole drive Nika’s hand rested on my thigh. We talked now and again about school, and she told me how her family was doing back in Croatian. We spoke about my oldest brothers wedding which was coming up in about 2 months and how we still needed to get Nika a dress.

We reached the mall, the parking lot was slowly filling up but not full enough to where we couldn’t find a spot.

“Where to first?” I ask, usually I only went to a store or two. Most of what I wore was the same plain shirt is 2 dozen colors, sweat pants and jeans.

“Well I made a pin board while we drove. It’s just some things I think look good and we could see what you like or don’t like.” She leaned over showing me her phone which somehow had 100 pins.

I nodded and told her which things I liked and didn’t like. I didn’t care for the shoulderless shirts, or the random flannels or extra unbuttoned shirts that were different color.

Nika didn’t seem offended when I said things she just nodded, removed the pin and moved on asking if I liked the next outfit.

I found I liked the baggier pants, and jorts especially with baggy shirts. Which I also helped me find I liked graphic tees and when they had long sleeves under.

Nika told me I liked streetwise aesthetic which i didn’t really get but I nodded along anyway.

Nika lead me into like 7 different stores where I managed to try on 20 different things every time. I didn’t like everything some shirts were to boxy and some of the pants drooped to low for my liking.

There were some things I loved though and after the first few stores of the day my arms were full of bags.

I was happy but damn was I tired. I flopped down on a bench and rested my head on Nika’s stomach as she stood in front of me. She laughed and ran her hand up and down my back.

“How are you feeling,” she asked as I looked up at her.

“Girl I am so tired,” I groan “How do people do this for fun?” I ask leaning my head back. A laugh fell from Nika’s lips.

I loved when she laughed. Sometimes I just talked about dumb stuff because I knew Nika would laugh. It was so perfect every time. I think it was one of the first things I fell in love with about her.

“Admit it you were having funny when you were trying things on.” She said as she set a few of my bags down on the ground next to us. I smiled and looked back at her.

“Yeah I guess it was kinda fun playing dress up.” I smile and kiss her temple. “Where to next?” I ask picking up the bags.

“Let’s go drop these off at the car. And the take a quick trip to Sephora and maybe Ulta.” she said, I nodded and followed behind her to the car. We loaded everything in the trunk and a few bags in the back seat.

Nika took my hand and lead me into the store. This was what I was most nervous about. At least I kinda understood clothes makeup did not make sense. Sure I have watched Nika do her make up hundreds of times but none of it made sense.

“I don’t think we’re gonna get foundation I know you don’t like having to much on your face.” She said as she pulled me towards the concealer.

“You’re right. I would feel like I’m wearing face paint all the time.” I agree as I follow behind her. Her eyes looked between the seemingly dozens of different concealers.

She would look at me and the back and the concealer. She would grab one then look at me again and grab another one. She had about six different shades after a few minutes. If you asked me it was excessive but than again I’m not a makeup person.

“Give me your wrist.” Nika said with an outstretched hand. I reached out my arm so she could test the concealer. She did a swatch and then would tell me about how it was too orange or too light.

To be honest I zoned out and just thought about how cute her voice was and how concentrated she looked as she compared the different colors to my skin. God she’s cute.

“I think this one will be good. Don’t you love?” She said pointing to the fifth swatch on my arm. I looked down and sure enough it blended into my skin quite well.

“Oh that’s nice.” My eyes trailed the rest of my arm “I kinda look like a zebra.” I say twisting my arm in the light, she laughs softly and puts the concealers away minus the one I was getting of course.

“Let’s get some blush, mascara, eyelash curler, eye brow gel and a brush. And ooo primer. We can just get you the kind I like. And then you already have a collection of summer Fridays so we’re good there.”

90% of what Nika has just said didn’t make sense to me. Summer Fridays did though. For some reason I tried Nika’s one time and fell in love with it. I had every flavor minus the mint one. I don’t like mint.

We bought the rest of the stuff and holy shit was make up expensive. Nika also explained to me I can’t just get make up wipes I should use micellar water so make up doesn’t get in my pores.

We drove home. Nika drove this time while I slept in the passenger seat for some reason I could play an entire basketball game running up and down the court but shopping wore me out like a bitch.

Eventually we got home and I ended up sitting on the counter again Nika standing between my legs.

“Can’t we do this tomorrow?” I groan laying my head on her shoulder. It was 4pm there was really no point of putting on makeup. She smiled and wrapped her arms around me.

“I suppose so… but make up is so fun. Trust me baby.” I nod and think it over for a moment.

“Alright. Pretty me up pretty girl.” I say leaning back and resting on my hands.

“Ok this is primer. It makes it easy for makeup to be applied basically.” She says, as she puts a few drops on my face. She gently rubs it into my face.

“It feels sticky,” I murmur.

“Then concealer. You put this over discoloration eye bags really anything you want to cover up. Here.” She hands it to me and i but small swatch’s under my eyes and a a few other places.

Nika takes one of the brushes we bought and blended in into my skin, blush filler next, then she did my eyes brows an eye lashes.

Fun fact you’re not supposed to close your eyes when you curl your eye lashes. The more you know know I guess.

I hoped off the counter and looked in the mirror. I smiled, I felt pretty. Nikas stood behind me arms wrapped around my waist her head resting on my shoulder.

“You look beautiful my love. Not because of the make up, there’s just this energy radiating off of you.” She says as she kisses my cheek.

“Thank you Nika. For everything.”