#I'm feeling all giddy and happy again‚ and it's nice ... I missed feeling like this ~

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Words Unsaid

[This story contains knifeplay and accidental harm]

She grabs the ring on her doll's back, and gently pulls it out.

It's slow, deliberately slow, making her doll writhe and whine in silent anticipation. Only after pulling it out about halfway did she prompt it to speak.

"Do you like to talk, dolly?"

As the string slowly snaked back into the doll's body, it felt its voice welling up inside it. Only now could it summon the will, the ability, to speak.

"Yes, this one loves to talk!" It spoke happily, with a giddy nervousness. "This one is very happy that it gets to speak, Miss. It like to let oth-"

The doll's words faded as the base of the ring landed against its back.

"Oh, poor thing, did I not pull it far enough?" There's a deep glee in Miss's voice, something sadistic. "You still had so much you wanted to say! Should I pull it harder next time?"

The sound of the string being unwound fills the doll's body. At any moment, it feels like it could reach its end, only for a sharp tug to signify it's been fully stretch. It's like a tender nerve, massaged into a line and kept aching for release...

"Yes, this one has so much to say!" It starts the second the string begins to recoil, before it could even think of what to say. "This one loves to tell you tons of things, Miss, thank you so much for pulling its string! It feels so nice to let its feelings out."

"Feelings~?" She mocks. "What kind of feelings does a doll have? You're a toy, I could cut you up and you'd thank me."

Slowly, gently, pulled out... and released.

"Um, yes Miss! But only because this one loves you very much, and it would know you cut it up because you love it too!"

"Such a good doll!" There's a tremble, as the doll hears the scrape of a knife against a table, being picked up. It turns around to "Eyes forward, doll." It only sees the tip of the knife before obeying.

Slowly, much slower, being pulled out. Once it reaches its end, pulling taut against the doll, there's a pressure. Something sharp pressing against its sensitive nerve.

"Would you thank me if I cut this little tongue of yours out, dolly?"

Release.

"Ahhh...!" an involuntary shudder, a waste of precious breath. "Y-yes Miss, it would thank you for anything, but... please don't, please, it loves to talk with you Miss, it loves the feeling of its string being pulled...!"

She pulls out an inch. "Light?"

"Green."

In an instant, her malicious bravado returns. "Oh, you greedy little thing. This is all about you, isn't it?" Much more sudden, much more rough, the string is yanked out, making the doll want to yelp. Again, that pressure returns, that sharpness, that-

Ping!

The doll shudders as its back arches, eyes wide with fright. It feels the cord slowly begin to sink back inside of it. It is much lighter than before.

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I swear to God I didn't mean to! Are you okay?" The person stammers as she lets the knife clatter to the floor, next to the doll's discarded ring.

"This one... doesn't..." The doll turns to face the person as she rushes to hold it, her arms wrapping around her plush and pulling it close. The doll continues, each word more hurried than the last. "I-it's okay, it's okay, it was this one's idea, w-we can... you can fix this, right? This o-"

As the string recedes fully, burying itself into the doll's back, its voice seizes. Its throat closes, awkwardly tight, as its mouth is left open. It tries desperately to claw out something, anything more, but all that comes out are hollow breaths.

"Oh, god, dolly..." she hugs her beloved toy back. "I'm so sorry, I swear I never wanted this to happen, I thought I... I thought I'd be more careful."

Her voice hangs in the silence, dripping with guilt. The doll's fears, its terror for losing its voice, is set aside to try and comfort its love. There's so much it wishes it could say.

. . . . .

The doll sits, with its knees to its chest. The smell of fish permeates through the whole apartment. Miss has cooked every day since the accident.

She brings out a plate with a two fishes worth of meat, fresh chopped vegetables and a side of rice. "It's ready!" she calls out, forcing cheer.

It wants to remark that it feels like it should be the one cooking. It wants to say that it understands Miss's guilt and wants her to feel better. It wants to tell her she has nothing to make up for.

She sits on the couch beside the doll and cuts off a slice of meat. "Ready for the taste test?" She says ritualistically, the hint of melancholy stronger than the day before. The doll nods with a smile.

Napkin in one hand and fork in the other, Miss brings some fish up to this one's closed mouth. "Om nom nom..." she says as she dabs the food against the doll's closed lips.

Its eyes widen in shock as it pulls its head away. Oh, wow. That has to be a new spice, there's a flavour it can't place without a name. It... wants to ask what she added to the fish this time, as Miss cleans the doll's mouth.

"Oh, is it okay?" She seems worried. "Sorry if it didn't turn out well, I kinda tried..." she trails off, looking ashamed.

Inside, the doll panics. Should it nod, trying to reassure her? Or should it shake its head, telling her not to be ashamed? Thinking quick, it points to the food and gives a thumbs up.

"Oh! Oh, well, I'm glad you liked it then, thank you." Her smile seems... nervous as she reacts to the doll's silent gesture, the silence that she forced upon it.

As she leaned over for another bite, the doll couldn't stop itself from hugging her. It's okay, please don't be sad. I love you.

"You don't have to hug me... if you don't want to, dolly." She takes a shallow breath, looking away. "I did something really awful to you, I really can't blame you for being upset."

The doll closed its eyes and hugged her tighter.

. . . . .

It's here.

The words echo through her head like a mantra. It's here, it's here, it's here.

She bursts into the bedroom, package brandished under her arms. "Dolly, dolly it's here! Your string!"

The doll was on the couch, right where she left it. In the minutes since their cuddle broke, it found stillness, only for it to be broken with the burst of energy welling inside of it.

It's been days. Days of desperate silence. Days where all it could do was listen and act. Days where all it could do was be cuddled and cuddle back, only hoping it was doing enough. Never asking if everything has okay, never asking if there was more it could do, never responding, never engaging. All it could do was watch her suffer.

That changes now.

The doll lays down on its front, just as was rehearsed. Miss crouches down beside it, seam ripper in hand. "Remember just tap on the couch if it starts to hurt, okay?" she reassures, to which the doll can only give a thumbs-up.

The cutting doesn't feel like how it expected. It's not a painful rip, but a clean release of form. It feels unfamiliar, having its side opened up, the cloth of its skin hanging loose in the air, but so unfamiliar that it can't be placed to a single feeling.

Then, Miss reaches her hand inside. Its stuffing is so, so tender, never meant to be touched. As she feels around for its voice box, the doll can't help but writhe and grip the couch's cushion. But the brave little doll didn't tap out.

As the voice box is unfastened and pulled out, the doll feels the lack of weight it leaves behind. The emptiness feels dreary and unwelcoming, something missing where it should be. "You did a wonderful job, dolly, thank you." Miss runs a hand through its hair.

The doll keeps its eyes closed as it hears the sound of a screwdriver prying at plastic, just as it was told it would want to. But as the moments pass in silence after, it can't help but look. It knows it shouldn't, but it can't stop its head from turning... seeing a string, the entire length of string. It's so long, one end being... tied into place, wrapped around a plastic spool... the doll silently groans and looks away, feeling sick to its stomach.

Moment after moment of weary anticipation. Miss recites every tutorial in her head, the ones she's researched over and over, to be as careful as she can be.

The pull of a string... and the sound of an empty speaker. Out of habit, the doll perks up, trying to speak, only to feel the emptiness where the voice box should be more than ever.

"Oh, dolly, please stay still!" Miss ushers it back flat with her free hand. She hurries to pack some of the stuffing it lost through its movements back where it belongs, only for it to writhe some more. Every jolt, every pang of pain reminds her of the accident. "Sorry, it's almost done, I promise!"

Hands inside it, feeling around and holding the box in place. Feeding the string through the much wider opening in its back, clipping it back into place, stuffing stray fluff back inside, and finally being sewn shut. The final bits of cloth finally sewn back together, the doll is allowed to sit back up. It takes only a moment to feel the stitching along its side with its mitten. It's... perfect, as if the operation never happened.

Miss sat beside it, taking a moment to brace herself. "I know how you probably feel, I... want you to say whatever's on your mind, no matter how you feel, okay?" She wrenches her eyes closed, unable to look at her doll's face. "Please don't bottle it up, I promise, all I want is for you to get it off your chest."

She was scared. She would never admit it, but she almost didn't want to hear what the poor doll had to say after all this time. Days upon days where it ruminated on its voice being stolen, on being trapped in its own mind, no way to express its thoughts.

She slowly, gently, pulled the string back... and let go.

"I love you!" it blurted out, completely without restraint. The widest smile it could summon burst across its face. It couldn't help but turn around and hug its love, counting out every response it had missed. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you I love you I love you I love you..."

Its mouth kept moving, even as the string dug into place in its back. The doll impatiently reaches behind itself and yanks out another lengths.

"You're so good at cooking and this one is sorry it couldn't help you find your shoes the other day and its so thankful you always cuddle with it and lets it watch movies with you and it could never ever be mad at you!"

Miss was in disbelief, frozen in place. "Oh, dolly..." is all she could muster as she hugged her doll back. "I love you too, I love you so much, I'm so sorry for ever hurting you, I promise I'll never do it again!"

Pulling an arm away from the hug, only for a moment, she gently pulls and releases the doll's string.

"It's okay, Miss, this one promises it's okay, it completely forgives you!" The doll nuzzles its face into the nape of Miss's neck, hugging her tighter as she begins to tear up.

But as the string continues to wind back up, the doll continues to speak. "And, um, please don't feel bad about the accident, it was actually really fun before that! We can still try again!"

Miss chuckled, just a little. "Maybe... but not very soon. For now, I just want you to talk to me, okay dolly?"

A gentle pull, and release.

"Yes Miss, this one would love to, thank you so much...!"

So, as the doll babbled into the night, Miss sat there behind it, pulling its string every time she needed to. They would fall asleep in each other's embrace, long into the night, with no words left unsaid.

[throughpatchesofviolet]

Just made the most ridiculous noises upon seeing LCB!Heathcliff's "block/deflect" sprite ... I think I'm in love with him.

[blitzwhore]

New Year's Kiss

“I've been meaning to apologize,” Stolas’ low voice broke the comfortable silence between them. 

Blitzø glanced up at him, and found the owl's gaze lost somewhere past the busy streets of Imp City.

It was twenty minutes—give or take a few—before midnight on New Year's Eve, and the streets were bustling with people coming and going, fireworks already booming on the horizon. Loona had long since left for a party with her friends. As far as Blitzø was aware, M&M were on a well deserved romantic, candle-lit date. 

Any other year, midnight would've found Blitzø balls deep into a faceless stranger, or perhaps elbow-deep into a tub of Bee&Jerry's as he binge-watched his comfort shows until he passed out from exhaustion. One way or another, he would've been trying his damndest to push away memories of his past—to drown out thoughts of all the people he wouldn't get to spend the night with. 

Tonight, it seemed like midnight was about to find him sharing yet another cig with Stolas on his balcony. 

The mere thought filled his chest with a bubbling kind of happiness, made him giddy enough that he felt the impulse to lean closer to Stolas, rest his head on the bump of Stolas’ hip. 

He resisted the urge, though, and instead replied to Stolas with a low, “What for?” 

Stolas breathed out a cloud of smoke and glanced momentarily down at Blitzø.

“For my behavior in the last few weeks,” he said, rolling the cig between his fingers. ��I have been… a mess, frankly. There's really no other way to put it.” 

“Stols, you had reasons to be that way,” Blitzø said, resting a comforting hand on Stolas’ waist. Even through Stolas’ loose jumper, he could feel warmth emanating from the soft feathers hidden underneath. He thumbed at the dip just below his hip, and didn't miss the small shiver that ran down Stolas’ body. “You lost so much, so quickly. And you were off your meds. Anyone would be a mess, honestly.” 

Stolas sighed, and, though he didn't look down at Blitzø again, he did lean slightly into his touch—just enough for Blitzø's hand to shift until it was cupping his lower back. 

“I still feel like you deserve an apology, though,” Stolas murmured. “I can't have been easy to deal with.” 

Blitzø snorted slightly. “‘Bout as easy as it is to handle me on a normal day, to be honest.” 

At that, Stolas’ lips quirked slightly upwards, the sight making Blitzø's heart soar higher than he cared to admit. 

“Anyway,” Blitzø added, “I'm glad the meds have been helping.” He accepted the cigarette when Stolas passed it and took a drag of it. When he gave it back, he stayed purposefully closer—close enough that he could feel Stolas’ warmth radiating off of him, that his lungs filled with Stolas’ scent with every slow breath. “It's just… it's nice to have you back, Stols.” 

A low exhale. With it, Stolas inched ever so slightly closer to Blitzø, until Blitzø's head was almost brushing against his waist. 

“It's nice to be back,” Stolas admitted in a low voice. 

Closing his eyes for a moment, Blitzø nuzzled Stolas’ waist and rested his temple there, just breathing the owl in, just taking a break from it all. 

Even through the sounds of cheering and screaming and fireworks in the distance, he felt so at peace. More at peace than he remembered ever feeling during a New Year Eve. 

Not since the fire, anyway. 

When he opened his eyes and checked his phone, it was exactly nine minutes to midnight.

Though he didn't mind the silence between them, he couldn't help but break it to ask a low, curious, “Any New Year's resolutions?” 

“Hmm?” Stolas asked. “Resolutions?” 

Blitzø glanced up at him without moving away from his waist. “Yeah. Don't you have those either?” 

“I'm afraid not.” Stolas tossed the cig onto the street below, but made no move to pull away from Blitzø, either. 

“Damn,” Blitzø murmured. “So you don't… have any New Year's Eve traditions?” 

Stolas didn't immediately reply, fiddling slightly with his fingers as his body tensed a bit. 

“The Goetia at large do,” he said, voice low. “Mostly, they use it as one more excuse to throw loud, ostensive parties. Most of them in our ballroom, courtesy of my ex-wife.” At this he paused again, grinding his beak slightly, as thought the sole memory made him uneasy. “I kept to myself when I could help it, though,” he said. And then, in a lower voice still, “Tried to drink enough that I'd remember as little of them as possible.” 

“Oh.” Blitzø gulped. He was uncomfortably familiar with what that felt like, and he knew full well what paths that sort of urge to drink your sorrows away could lead down. 

He'd recently started to suspect Stolas was no stranger to it, either. He guessed this tiny admission from Stolas confirmed it, at least to some extent. 

Blitzø would've much preferred for his suspicions to be wrong. 

“How about you?” Stolas asked then. “Any other New Year's Eve traditions, other than setting resolutions?” 

“Oh yeah, there's a bunch,” Blitzø said, and Stolas glanced down at him, eyebrow quirked in interest. “Obviously there's the fireworks.” 

“Obviously,” Stolas smirked, another round of loud bangs going off in the distance. 

“There's a bunch'a songs we sing, too,” Blitzø added. “Specific meals, too, in some rings. And…” 

And here he paused, gulping. A quick glance at his watch told him it was four minutes to midnight, and suddenly his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest. 

He'd been thinking about it, of course he had. Ever since Stolas had kissed him on Sinsmas, it'd been practically all he could think of. 

Still, maybe it was too soon; too quickly after the whole Octavia situation. Maybe it was just better not to bring it up at all. Maybe—

“And?” Stolas prompted, curiosity in his voice as he watched Blitzø expectantly. 

“O-Oh, it's nothing important,” Blitzø quickly said. “Just—sometimes, when you're, y'know, spending the evening with the people you love…” Three minutes. Fuck. “There's this tradition to share a kiss. At midnight. On the cheek, if it's like your friend or whatever, or, you know…” 

Blitzø couldn't keep going—not when Stolas was looking at him like that. Cheeks all flushed, and eyes so big, those ever-present pupils boring a hole into him as they blinked in slow understanding. 

“Oh,” Stolas breathed with a low hoot. 

Two minutes. 

“That sounds…” Stolas started, seemingly at a loss for words. “Is that something you'd want to—” 

“I'm not saying it because we have to—” 

They both paused, having talked over each other, and now Blitzø could clearly feel the same heat that was tinting Stolas’ cheeks burning across his own. 

Despite his galloping heart, Blitzø couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. Would the two of them ever stop being hopelessly stupid around each other?

He reached up to take one of Stolas’ hands on his own, loving how familiar it felt, how easy it came to him to just run his thumb across Stolas’ knuckles and thread their fingers together.

“We don't have to,” he said again, voice low, eyes carefully searching Stolas’. “Just getting to start the new year by your side is more than enough.” 

“But you… want to?” Stolas murmured, almost breathless, like he barely dared to ask. 

Blitzø smiled—fondly, sheepishly—and tugged gently at Stolas’ hand. 

“I always want to kiss you,” he softly admitted. 

Stolas’ whole body was turned towards him now. Another tug at his hand, and Stolas was on his knees, face at Blitzø's level, eyes searching Blitzø's face as a smile spread slowly across his lips. 

“If…” Blitzø breathed. “If you want?” 

His question was drowned by a blast of fireworks and people's cheers and laughter in the streets. 

But Stolas’ gaze was already on his lips, his hand cupping Blitzø's cheek as he closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together softly. 

Tracing Stolas’ cheek with his own palm, Blitzø stepped closer and deepened the kiss, humming low in his throat as Stolas’ familiar, warm taste flooded his senses. 

Outside, the world celebrated and sparkled and shone. But Blitzø's world was reduced to this. To Stolas’ fingers threading through his back spines to keep him close—to Stolas’ low, contented moan when their tongues pressed together and fell into a well-known dance. To Stolas’ scent, Stolas’ touch, those slender hands roaming down to his waist and circling his lower back to press Blitzø closer to himself. 

It felt like several minutes went by before they managed to part from one another, and still they stayed close as they caught their breaths. 

When Blitzø opened his eyes, Stolas was smiling. 

He looked happy. Happier than he'd looked since the trial, and just—more present. Like the depression fog was finally starting to lift, leaving behind a man that was still riddled with grief, still struggling to find his place, but—ready to find some happiness despite it all. Ready to be here, in Blitzø's arms, and allow himself this moment of comfort and hope. 

Blitzø couldn't help it. He pressed his forehead against Stolas', his love for the bird too overwhelming to put into words. 

Stolas held him there, a smile still present in his voice when he asked a low, “Any New Year's resolutions, then, darling?” 

Smiling, Blitzø hummed in response, running his fingertips through the soft, long feathers at the back of Stolas’ head. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, his mind a whirlwind of just Stolas, Stolas, Stolas. “To have more of this with you.” 

On AO3

[stop-talking]

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 4)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.4k words + 300 word epilogue

Tags: 18+, mike x fem reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, fluff, comfort, happy ending.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Mike sits at his kitchen table, trying not to nod off into his cereal. Today is a quiet day. A lazy day. His one day off.

Except, not really. There's always work to be done. He just has to figure out what today's work would be. He's caught up on laundry and dishes, the house isn't too much of a mess... Hm. Maybe he should finally fix the dripping pipe in the bathroom. Or the living room window that's been stuck for years. Or one of the million other things wrong with his house.

He sighs and goes to take a bite of his cereal, only to realize he forgot the milk. Damn it. When he opens the fridge, he stands face to face with a little blue dolphin stuffed animal. Right... Abby's still testing him. He leaves it alone, she'll see it when she gets home from school and assume her "spell" still works. Pfft.

Mike nearly drops the milk mid-pour when he hears the phone ring.

*click.*

"Hello?" He mumbles groggily, a little annoyed to have his morning brooding interrupted.

"Hey, Mike? You free at all today?"

He immediately perks up at the sound of your voice. It's been two days since he last saw you, and he honestly wasn't sure if you'd ever speak to him again.

"Yeah, uh... It's my day off, actually."

"Good. I'm using that 2nd favor."

Mike's heart races. If this favor is going to be anything like the last one, he was definitely up for it.

"Oh? Missing me already, sweetheart?"

"As if. I need you to build me a shelf."

A shelf? Well, that was unexpected. Hm. Better than nothing.

"What, like build it from scratch? Are you expecting me to buy the boards, or-"

"No. I have all the pieces. It just needs to be assembled."

"You can't assemble a shelf?" Mike scoffs, but secretly he's pleased. Sounds like you just want an excuse to have him over.

"Mike. You know I'm no good with tools."

No, he didn't know that actually. Liar. You definitely just wanted to see him again. God, he felt giddy.

"Mhm. Sure."

"Just get your ass over here, Schmidt."

"Woah, what's with the attitude, Princess? I'm here to help." He can't help but let some smugness seep into his tone. Okay, more than some. He's a cocky bastard and he knows it.

"I've been working on the damn thing all morning. Almost three hours now. Not in the mood, jackass."

Shit. You sounded sincere. And really pissed off. Then again, what kind of a shelf took three hours to assemble? The fuck was it? A jigsaw puzzle?

"Alright, alright. I'll be over soon. See ya."

Mike slumps against the counter as you grumble something incoherent and slam the phone down. Damn, what is he getting himself into this time?

Only one way to find out.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike finally arrives at your apartment half an hour later, he feels a bit silly. He put on a nice shirt and trousers to come see you, and here you are in sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Figures.

"Call for a handyman?" He greets you with a teasing smile, holding up his old rusted toolbox as he makes his way inside.

"Pfft. Someone's happy to see me."

Mike can't really say anything to that, so he doesn't try. He is happy to see you, even if you have attitude problems and dress like a bum.

"So, I bought the damn thing from a friend-of-a-friend, who got it at a garage sale. I swear, it has to be missing some parts or something, because-"

He nods as you rattle on and lead him to your bedroom, but he's only half-listening. He looks around your apartment, taking it all in. It's been at least six months since he last came over, probably longer. It doesn't look to have changed much. He likes your apartment. It's cozy.

"Anyways... can you fix it?"

Mike pauses in the doorway of your bedroom as you give him a sheepish smile and gesture to something in the corner.

Holy hell. Is that supposed to be a shelf? Mike can't help but think that the hideous agglomeration of boards and screws would only be good as a fire-starter. It looks more like a pile than a shelf.

"Uhh..." He bites his cheek, desperately trying not to burst into a fit of laughter. Maybe you really weren't lying about the whole "no good with tools" thing.

He finally loses it when you groan and flop down on the bed, hiding your face in a pillow.

"Ughh... Laugh at me, whatever. Just fix it."

"Jesus Christ. This has to be the sorriest excuse for a shelf I've ever seen. Sure you don't want me to haul it to the junkyard instead?" He snorts, sitting down on the edge of your bed and looking with disdain at the half-assedly assembled shelf.

Mike immediately shuts his mouth when you glare at him. Oops, right, you're in a bad mood.

"I mean, uh... you tried?" He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. He still can't believe you're actually this inept when it comes to assembly.

"Get to work, Schmidt."

Mike yelps as you kick him off the bed, but doesn't bother retaliating. He just grabs his toolbox and sits on the floor, examining the so-called "shelf".

"Well, the first step is going to be un-doing everything you did."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You lie on your stomach in bed, chin propped up on your hands as you kick your feet in the air and ponder the sight before you. Mike's back is turned to you as he quietly works away taking apart the monstrosity you assembled.

"How long is this gonna take?"

"Well, If it wasn't so..." He trails off, glancing at you and choosing his words more carefully.

"...sturdy, it'd be a lot easier to take apart."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

He gives you an incredulous look and gestures to a series of nails in a corner where two boards meet. It does look pretty ridiculous, the sharp ends pointing out the other side. Not your best work.

"You put nails in it, sweetheart." He scoffs.

"How else was I supposed to keep it together?" You give him your best pout, and gloat internally when he has to turn away. He's absolutely infatuated with you. Even the back of his neck is pink.

"It comes with screws for a reason, ya know."

"There's a difference?"

He turns and gives you a flat look, and you laugh. Damn. You can play dumb with him, but maybe not that dumb. Noted.

Still, it's a little boring just laying there and watching him grumble and pull nails from wood. You can't really mess with him too much either, because you really do what him to fix the stupid shelf.

"You want something to drink?" You finally break the silence, under the guise of trying to be a good hostess.

"Pfft. Need some whiskey to deal with this bullshit." He snorts, pulling yet another nail free. He'd almost gotten one board off. One. This was gonna take a while.

"I was thinking more along the lines of soda or tea."

"Jack and Coke, then?"

"Mike. It's hardly past noon."

"So?" He scoffs. "For me, this is like... evening, or something. I dunno. Sleep schedule's fucked with this new job."

That answer makes you pause.

"What is it you do now, anyway?"

He groans, finally prying one of the boards free of the clusterfuck.

"Night guard. Told you already, remember?" He tries to shrug the question off, but you're nosy.

"Where?"

"Uhh... Freddy Fazbear's Pizza..."

"Speak up."

"Ugh. It's this stupid rundown hellhole pizzeria. Honestly dunno why anyone would wanna break in there anyways. It's a dump."

"What kind of a pizzeria needs a night guard? Or any guard?"

"The haunted kind."

You decide not to ask about that, simply shaking your head as you walk to the door. He's truly a loon. A loveable loon, unfortunately.

"Just tell me what you want to drink, Mikey, or I'm getting you water."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike sits on the floor of your bedroom sipping his glass of water and wondering how he got here. If you'd told him a week ago he'd be building his witch of an ex-girlfriend a shelf, he would've gagged. Now...? Well, he just wants to go join you on that bed.

"So are you really just gonna sit there and look pretty while I do all the work?"

"Aww, you think I'm pretty, Mikey? You smile, lying on the bed with your feet kicking in the air, giving him a look of pure adoration. It wasn't hard to do.

"Pretty annoying, yeah." He turns away with a scoff, returning to his work. If only he could get this stupid nail untangled from the other two... why would anyone use this many nails?

"You know, I think I liked you better gagged."

"Oh I know, sweetheart. I could see it in those evil eyes of yours." He can't help but smirk a bit at the comment, though. Sometimes he liked himself better gagged, too. He shakes the thought away and keeps working.

"Why can't you just get on hands and knees and beg me to take you back already?" You huff dramatically and roll over onto your back, letting your head fall over the edge of the bed. He looks silly from this angle. Upside-down.

That question nearly makes Mike drop his tools. Were you serious?

"Why? So you can laugh me off again?"

Ouch. It was true you'd turned him down the last time he'd tried it, but that was six months ago.

"Maybe if you used those big brown puppy eyes of yours on me."

That only earns you a grunt, so you verbally prod him again.

"Besides, why can't I do both? Laugh at you, then take you back? Sounds fun."

"Pfft. Fun? To toy with me? You'd probably break up with me all over again just for shits and giggles." He responds bitterly, still refusing to turn around.

"Mikey. Look at me." You roll back over onto your stomach and rest your chin in your hands as he slowly meets your gaze.

"I didn't break up with you just for shits and giggles. You know that. I'm not letting you sit there and wallow in self-pity."

Mike goes stiff from your words, but your tone is soft, and your eyes even softer. You're still giving him that adoring look. Damn it.

"Well maybe I'd rather wallow in self pity than admit you were right all along."

"You've had six months to wallow. Grow a pair and come kiss me."

He can't say no to that. Not when you look at him that way. He shuffles over, kneeling by the side of your bed. On his knees for you again, damnit.

You kiss him. It's different from the lustful, sloppy kiss you shared last time. This one makes you feel warm. You kiss him again. And again.

Mike really doesn't want this to end, but the knot in his stomach forces him to pull away. He has to ask.

"Why? Why are you doing this, I mean? Do you really want... to take me back?" He sputters, looking down at the floor.

"I'm not completely sure yet." You answer honestly, shifting and lying back on the bed.

Damn. That's not the answer he wanted to hear.

"Are you-"

"Come here."

When you pat the spot next to you in bed, Mike melts. He's a wreck right now, but still wants nothing more than to be with you, in every sense of the word. He silently complies.

"It's not about right and wrong, you know. As much as I love being told I'm right." You give him a soft smile, breaking the silence and placing your hand on top of his as you both lie on your sides.

Damn it. He'd done this with you before, this and so much more. Why was such a small touch turning him to goo?

"What isn't?"

"The breakup. It's about growing as a person. As people. Both of us." You lace your fingers with his, and can't help but laugh as his face reaches a level of pink you've never seen before.

"And what exactly am I supposed to be growing out of?"

"Pfft. I don't know, the emotional unavailability? The way you never made time for me? Constant irritability?" You start to dramatically list off his flaws, using your free hand to count on your fingers.

"Okay, okay. I get it." He huffs, and grabs your hand before you can make fun of him more. Instead, he guides it to his side, pulling you in a little closer.

"And you're miss perfect?"

"No. 'Course not. I have flaws too." You give him a sly smile, and start listing your own "faults".

"Too hot and sexy, too intelligent, too kind, amazing, sweet and caring..."

That's as far as you get before Mike scoots closer, burying his face in your neck and giving you a playful nip.

"Too arrogant." He adds with a laugh, wrapping his arm around you and letting himself melt further into you.

"My arrogance is one of my best qualities, thank you." You reply haughtily, sliding your hand up his back and into his hair.

Mike couldn't speak, even if he could somehow find the right words to say. Everything in this moment felt so right. His arm around you. Your fingers in his hair. He lets out a soft groan instead.

You aren't exactly eager to let go of this moment either, and just hold him for a few minutes. It feels nice to play with his soft brown curls.

"I'll do better. Please." He finally mumbles something to you, not bothering to move his face from where it's buried in the crook of your neck.

"Please what, Mikey?"

"Take me back."

He finally pulls back, just enough to give you a glimpse of those puppy eyes of his. Damn it. How could you even think of saying no?

"Yeah. Okay."

You both lean in for another round of soft passionate kisses, and Mike feels himself relax completely. His stomach unknots and his mind goes numb. For the first time in months, he feels completely safe.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"So does this mean you'll babysit for me again?"

"Go finish the shelf, Schmidt."

"Yes, Princess."

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

♡ Epilogue ♡

Over the past few weeks, you and Mike had fallen into a sort of rhythm.

He never did end up finding a new babysitter, and besides, you're the only one who could ever get Abby to finish her dinner. You had to graduate her from daily witching lessons to weekly ones, though, convincing her she needed to study for the more advanced spells. Secretly, Mike was just losing track of which objects in his house were supposedly invisible. It was quite amusing to watch.

Mike's favorite part of the day was coming home to you already asleep in his bed, and waking you up with a kiss. He'd then either lie down in bed while you shower, or hop in there with you, depending on how you felt. Either way, he loved the view.

The conflicting schedules made things complicated, but you were able to work around it. Mike slept better with you holding him, and consequentially, was a lot more agreeable. He did his best to make more time for both you and Abby.

He even started to open up to you for once, letting you take on some of his burdens. This man sure had a lot of guilt. You were certain he hadn't yet told you everything, but he told you enough. At least you finally knew what the fucking NEBRASKA poster on the ceiling was for. Now you kind of felt bad for all the times you teased him about it the first time you dated.

As for the damn shelf... well, he finished it. It was still hideous, but it was functional. There were holes in it from the nails, and the wood had even started to splinter in a few spots. You couldn't bring yourself to get rid of it, though. Not after how much work you both put into it. Even if most of Mike's work revolved around un-doing yours.

It definitely wasn't a perfect relationship, not by far. But Mike never promised to be the perfect boyfriend. He just promised to be better.

And he was, bit by bit, every day. Better. ♡

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note:

Thank you all for the love!! This was my first time writing a fanfic of any kind so I'm really happy so many of you enjoyed it. Feels good to bring the story to an end.

Feel free to send me a request, I'd love to write more fics about Mike. Or any other J-hutch character for that matter, Mikey is just my favorite <3

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 28: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him. @starryeyedjanai

"Steve!" Robin clicked her fingers in front of Steve's face, Steve turned towards her, "Have you heard a thing I said?"

"Sure, I was listening."

"No you weren't you weren't looking at me, I wasn't born yesterday, Evie."

Steve smiled slyly, "Fine what were you saying about your date with Nancy," he replied pointedly looking at her lips this time.

Robin cracked a giddy grin, "The rollerskating was a great idea she held my hand all night cause you know I'm a klutz!"

Steve laughed turning to continue stacking the tapes. Robin poked her head round him at the sound of the front bell.

"Eddie!" She said tapping Steve and pointing. Steve grinned at the metalhead wiggling his fingers in a wave.

"Stevie! How's my favourite future cyborg, you ready to go?" Steve liked watching Eddie talk, the way his lips moved.

"Thanks for driving him, Ed, it was hard enough convincing him to go to the first appointment, wanna make sure he actually gets them."

"Course, Bucks, happy to babysit our favourite babysitter."

Steve punched out his card and gathered his things from the back. The drive to the doctor's office was quick, the thrum of Eddie's mixtapes vibrating the van. Steve always liked hanging out with Eddie, he liked loud.

He really wanted to hold Eddie's hand once they were sat in the bright white office. The cold walls were a little too similar to the bunker, but he'd promised Robin.

"It'll be a little weird when we first turn them on but you should adjust within a week." The doctor explained before fiddling with the device. A few seconds later the tune of the radio flooded his ears, Steve perked up a smile gracing his face. He looked over at Eddie, "I can hear the radio!" Eddie grinned widely in return.

Later, back at the trailer Steve was enjoying hearing the movie playing, happy to not have to rely on the limited subtitled movies Hawkins had to offer. He could hear Eddie finishing dinner in the background, it warmed his heart feeling somewhat normal again.

"Hear you go, sweetheart," Eddie said passing Steve a bowl of spaghetti, plopping down beside him, it was nice, hearing Eddie's voice more clearly now.

He paused the movie as Eddie started monologuing about something that had happened at the garage that morning. Steve wasn't really paying attention, too busy watching Eddie's lips. He wanted to tell Eddie how he felt but he didn't want to lose this.

"Stevie?"

"Hmm?" He replied not looking away from Eddie's mouth.

"Your hearing aids stop working? You've been reading my lips."

Steve blushed, "Um no, I heard you just fine."

Eddie paused before smirking, "See something you like then, sweetheart?"

Steve smiled in return, "Maybe, maybe I just need you to come closer to hear better."

Eddie leaned forward, glancing down at Steve's lips, "Better?"

"Hmm, little closer, don't want to miss anything you say, very important."

Eddie was barely a breath away, all Steve had to do was close the gap, "Stevie." Eddie said Steve's name like a promise and Steve couldn't help moving forward, brushing his lips against Eddie's.

He's glad he listened to Robin and got the hearing aides, he wanted to memorise the sound of Eddie's gasps and moans forever.

[flametrashiraarchive]

Being a kakushi helping out in a lot of Kyo's missions, basically a friend already... Having a big fat crush on Shinjuro. Celebrating a hard successful mission and you let it slip in a drunken haze, within earshot of Shinjuro - and then well ✨👀 Shinjuro is kinda lonely ya know... And he supposes he might want another kid ya know...

- Beer anon 🍻

Hellooooo so I got carried away again lol. Shinjuro just makes me feel some kind of way and I can't be brief about him. I hope you don't mind but I left out the wanting a kid part but the horniness is all here!

Also this is canon-divergent. Everyone is alive at the end lol (even Muzan... he's just living on a farm with me and Douma... jk... unless....)

NSFW under the cut. CW for drinking alcohol.

Dancing with the Flame

Shinjuro couldn't believe his own ears. For one, his son Kyojuro was drunk on shōchū (a very rare occurrence) which made him extremely giggly (less rare). And two, you were talking to his son about him.

"I want him, Kyojuro," you repeated, with giddy sincerity.

Perhaps he hadn't heard you correctly. The celebration was loud since Tengen was setting off fireworks like they cost nothing. It seemed the entire demon slayer corps had gathered to celebrate the defeat of the demon king: pillars, rank and file slayers, kakushi, medics, swordsmiths… the air was crackling with hope and excitement. So, he must have heard wrong, he told himself. There had to be some other explanation.

"Kyojurooo, I mean it. Your dad is so damn hot. Let me be your stepmother."

All his son could do was laugh, his face a deep pink shade.

"He's just so... burly... and... ugh, you know? Please invite him over so I can-."

"I am NOT enabling you to seduce my father!"

"Kyoooojuroooo!"

There was no denying it and it shouldn't have felt as good as it did. He'd met you on a few occasions and he'd remembered your name. You seemed to be a good friend to Kyojuro, and a capable member of his team.

But Ruka had been gone for over a decade, and since her death, Shinjuro hadn't even so much as looked at another woman. But with the demon threat eliminated once and for all, you weren't wearing your face covering, and he really saw you for the first time.

And no, noticing how pretty your eyes and your smile were didn't count. Nor did respectfully noticing the way your Kakushi uniform fit your figure nicely. Or...

His eyes widened.

Oh gods, that absolutely counted, didn't it?

"Come on... You love your little brother... I could give you more little brothers. Dozens of them. Please just one chance, Kyo-."

When Shinjuro finally chanced a glance in your direction, Kyojuro had one hand firmly clamped over your mouth while he raised his shōchū cup to his lips with the other.

A rare smile pulled at the corner of Shinjuro's lips. Being wanted felt good.

Before he had chance to talk himself out of it, he began to walk over to your table. He'd had a few to drink too and the was alcohol bolstering his confidence.

Your startled eyes as Shinjuro approached, and the way you tried to discreetly nudge Kyojuro to alert him... you were so sweet, so funny.

"Father!" Kyojuro greeted him effusively, finally removing his hand from your mouth. "I'm so happy you joined the celebration."

"Of course," Shinjuro said, sitting at an empty spot at the table. "My eldest son helped defeat Muzan. How could I miss it?"

Kyojuro beamed at him, and Shinjuro's heart swelled with pride. He hadn't always been the father his boys deserved, but he was working toward being a better man, and repairing the damage he had done.

But your eyes were fixed on Shinjuro too, and he could feel the heat of your gaze.

"Good evening to you too," he said.

Your cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. "Good evening, Lord Rengoku."

"Shinjuro," he corrected. "Please."

Gods, your eyes were even prettier up close.

He hadn't tried to flirt with anyone for over two decades. It was a strange sort of feeling, and truth be told, though he'd faced countless demons without feeling the slightest bit nervous, this was a different beast entirely.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked, hoping you didn't hear the waver in his voice.

Your eyes widened at the question... so did Kyojuro's. The boy raised his eyebrows and quickly walked away, leaving you and Shinjuro alone.

Gods, he wasn't prepared for that.

But then you smiled and took his hand, and Shinjuro's heart quickened. Together you walked to the center of the party, where couples were gathered, dancing to the music.

He had no idea what his next move was, but you took care of that. Once you reached the dancing couples you kept walking...

"Wait... where are we going?" He asked.

"To dance." You looked up at him with those pretty eyes and gave him a slanted smile. Wherever you were leading him he couldn't resist following.

He knew the layout of the headquarters well enough to quickly figure it out, and he soon found himself treading a familiar path to the training ground and toward the equipment shed.

His heart began to pound as anticipation coiled in his belly. His breaths became heavier and less satisfying the closer you got to the shed. Your intentions were clear.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, well aware of his higher status, his larger body, his strength, even though it was abundantly clear that you were in charge.

You led him around the back of the structure, where the moonlight pooled and he could see your hands reaching beneath your kimono and pulling down your underwear. "I'm sure, Lord Ren- Shinjuro... I want you."

"Mmh..." he tried to bite back his groan, but it broke free anyway. It had been so long since he was intimate with anyone, let alone someone new. But Gods, he wanted it. "I want you too. But... it's been a while. You'll have to forgive me if I'm a little sloppy."

You chuckled, pulling at the neckline of his kimono. "I don't care, Shinjuro, give me sloppy."

That was all he needed. He pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall of the equipment shed as he kissed you.

His desire, which he had long thought dwindled to ash, ignited at the touch of your lips. He kissed you deeply, his tongue stroking yours, his hands splayed across your jaw. And you were so damned eager, sucking his lower lip and tangling your fingers in his hair, sending tingling bolts of pleasure through his body. He was hard in seconds, his touch-starved body demanding more.

But before he would allow that, he was going to make you cum. Shinjuro wasn't some impatient young buck willing to rut against you for a few minutes until his aching cock was satisfied. He was going to take his damn time and make sure you both got the most out of this.

The former flame hashira got to his knees, lifting the bottom of your kimono and trailing kisses up your thighs. His big, rough hands slid from your ankles to your knees, keeping your legs together.

Your sighs of pleasure and your impatient little whimpers made his cock twitch.

"Shinjuro..."

"Patience," he whispered against the soft skin of your inner thighs. "Don't worry, I'll get you there."

The heat coming off you was intoxicating. You angled your hips toward him; so damn needy and ready. Your clit was already swollen and glistening with your arousal, and that he could not hold back from. He leaned forward, sliding his tongue over your flesh, groaning at the taste of you.

A cry escaped your lips as his tongue lapped at your clit. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping them together and holding you upright as your legs trembled.

"Gods... Shinjuro..."

The desperation in your voice and the taste of your cunt made his cock throb, but as badly as he wanted to fuck you, he wouldn't let that happen until he made you cum. He licked you slowly at first, savoring the taste, drawing out your pleasure, until he felt you bearing down on his tongue, silently begging for more.

He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, flicking his tongue over it as you whined and tugged at his hair.

"M-more..." you whispered. "Don't stop. Don't..."

You needn't worry. There was nothing he wanted more than your complete and absolute ecstasy. He sucked and licked at your clit like it sustained him, driving you higher and higher until you cried out, almost collapsing onto him as you pulsed and quivered on his tongue. And when your orgasm subsided, he kissed it like a lover, his cock weeping tears of pre-cum, so desperate to bury himself in the wet heat of you.

"Shinjuro, please fuck me," you begged, putting your hand beneath his chin and tiling his head to face you. You were so goddamn beautiful in the moonlight. His heart was aching almost as much as his cock.

He wasn't about to deny your request. He stood up and kissed you again, melting at the soft caress of your lips as you tugged impatiently at his clothing, hitching your thigh onto his hip, coating the head of his cock in your slick nectar.

A deep, desperate groan rolled through him as your tongue slid against his, tasting yourself and moaning softly. No, there was no holding back now. He was going to fuck you. He had to fuck you.

A moment later he had you hoisted up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pinned you to the side of the shed and slid his cock into you. The way your mouth fell open at the sensation of him filling you, the way your pussy clenched around him; it was heaven.

"Mm… Is it good?" he whispered, seeking your praise. "Am I making you feel good?"

"Yes!" You cried out in answer, raking your fingernails across his back.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Hm?" he growled against your ear. "You were imagining my cock deep inside your pretty cunt, weren't you?"

You nod, and a grin spreads across his face.

Tengen was still shooting off his damn fireworks, but in the silence between each shriek and explosion the night was filled with your gasping breath, your moans, the sound of flesh on flesh as he fucked you hard. You pulled aside the collar of his kimono and kissed his neck, sending sparks of pleasure through his veins.

"Mmh... Gods, I need... oh..." he was incoherent, lost in the sensation of you. His brow furrowed as he focused on his breathing, drawing from his hashira training to regain control. "Are you going to cum for me... one more time?"

"I'm close..."

"Good. Let me feel it. I wanna feel you cum all over my cock, pretty girl." He thrust into you harder, faster, letting his passion take over.

And then you cried out, your pussy pulsing around him as your lips crashed against his. "Shinjuro..."

"That's it," he whispered in your ear. Each throb of your muscles brought him closer and closer. "Oh Gods, yes, you feel so good. So good..." His teeth clenched as his own peak neared. "I'm..."

He pulled out with the intention of spilling his seed onto the ground, but a moment later you were on your knees, your lips around the tip of his cock, licking and sucking as you tugged his aching balls.

"Fuck!" He growled, his hand coming down to grip the back of your head as he came with a grunt. He had to brace himself against the shed to keep from collapsing as you swallowed down his load. "Ohhh.... fffffuck... pretty girl, that's it. Gods... that's it."

It had been so long, so damn long. So many years of denying himself, of thinking misery was the only thing he had left. But you... you made him feel good. Even if just for that moment, you made him feel like the man he thought he'd lost.

You smiled up at him as he tried to get his breath back, still bracing himself against the shed.

"You're something else," he chuckled as you grinned pressed your teeth to your bottom lip. "Something wonderful." He took your hand and helped you to your feet, pressing a kiss to each knuckle. "Thank you."

You balanced on the tips of your toes as you kissed him softly and slowly, your hand resting at the center of his chest. When he pulled back his heart was thundering, because he knew that while this was your first dance, it was by no means the last.

[rhadamanthes]

In the silvery moolight. Sukuna x reader

word count : 2.4k

warnings: mirror sex ,bitting, spanking, hair pulling, fingering, cum swallowing, established relationship.

Part 2

Moving boxes upstairs, unpacking, doing it all over again. This is the summary of your day, to say that you're exhausted is an understatement. The hot water falling down on your body does a good job at easing your muscles but it makes you sleepy too. Stepping out of the shower you notice you haven't brought your towel. You sight  a good night of sleep sounds heavenly right now.

"Sukuna! Can I have a towel please!" you yell through the door starting to shiver as the cold air hits your still damp skin. 

The door bursts open revealing your boyfriend with a tired scowl on his face. You internally slap yourself for asking him knowing that he was probably busy assembling furniture somewhere else. He takes a few step draps the towel around your body  and starts rubbing your back vigorously. You hum at the sensation and soon enough you feel his head curl in your neck. A deep sigh escapes his mouth and you let your hand trace the tattoos on his back in an attempt to sooth him. You hear a few groan and feel his weight leaning on you more and more proving that he is in fact relaxing. 

Moving apartments to live with Sukuna was the easiest decision of your life but it also made you realise how much stuff you accumulate through the years.  He's been doing all the handy work and almost crucified you in your seat when you suggested to hire movers so he doesn't get too tired so seeing him like that makes you laugh a bit thinking that it could have been different. 

"I have never seen you like that before" you say, chuckling a bit. As a response, Sukuna bites on your neck, hard. You squeal trying to get out of his grasp before he slaps your ass and take a step back to look you in the eyes

``I'm done with the bed get in '' You let out an excited cry as though sleeping on a mattress and not on the cold floor.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" you say covering his face with kisses, running off excitedly to your shared bedroom.

You turn around when you don't hear him follow you and he is now shirtless. You can't help but stare at his defined upper body and the tattoos that adorned it. You want to trace them with your finger, your tongue to bite them. It's been such a long time since you two have been intimate with all the moving process and you realise now how much you miss it.

Before you can process any more thought, Sukuna throws his pants at you with a teasing smirk on his face "We're done for today go to sleep".

By the time Sukuna is done showering you're in bed half seated, looking around the room thinking about how you could arrange it to make it look nice and relaxing. 

For now the bed is in the middle of the room as you stacked all of the boxes that need to be emptied next to the walls so Sukuna can properly build the furniture. The only piece of decoration is a mirror that you bought recently at a flea market. It's huge, adorned with gold and almost as tall as your boyfriend ; that's why it's unpacked you're staring at yourself through it right now. Even from a distance you notice the growing eye bag and sigh. 

"I thought i said we were done for today" Sukuna says, patting his hair dry "Lay down"  His stern tone makes you all giddy but you oblige, putting the cover up to your nose you lay on your side facing him. You're occupying the left side so naturally, the right side is his. 

Both under the cover you're facing each other not saying a word but smiling. The tired look he wore before seems to have eased a bit. To see him like that makes you happy knowing that you would for hopefully a very long time. you press your lips against his biting lips slightly.

"Good night boyfriend" you say tracing the tattoos on his face. He turns you around abruptly holding you close to his chest.

"Good night doll" he says, squeezing firmly your breasts. And just like that you fall asleep following the rhythm of his breath.

Your eyes open after what feels like a very light night of sleep. You check your phone for the time 3:29 you sigh. It explains the tiredness, you look at the window. The moonlight gives the room a soft light.Your stomach growling brings you back at why you're awake at such an hour despite being so tired. 

The feeling is growing by the second and it gets you wide awake. You can feel your boyfriend's arms around your body. You try to wiggle out of it but he only holds you tighter.

" Sukuna let go please " you whisper he only growls in response. You tap his arms lightly to make him untangle it but he won't budge. "No" he simply states.

"I'm hungry, I'm just going to make something quick" you start to get frustrated. You feel his chest move in a silent laugh behind your back.

"Fridge empty" he simply adds. The asshole still got the nerve to laugh at you half asleep, you angrily push his arm off your body but before you can get out of bed you feel his chest press against your back pinning you to the bed. 

Your breath is saccaded due to the fact that he is on top of you crushing you with his weight. You open your eyes and see your reflection in the mirror. He is already looking at you, a cold gaze while both arms cage you against the mattress his nose pressed against your hair . He looks like a cat who caught his prey you gulp at the thought. He has always overpowered you in terms of physical strength but seeing him like that makes you feel some type of way, heat pool at your panties. 

"Let me go"  you whisper barely audible but he is so close you know he heard you. 

Sukuna let his hand go to your hair pulling them in a ponytail passing the lock from one hand to another, his chest vibrating with a deep growl against your back. You hum, closing your eyes at the new proximity. It's been a while that you haven't felt him like that, his whole attention is on you, the tension he applies on your scalp makes you dizzy with need and you can already feel your panties getting wet. He sticks your head to the left side pressing his cheeks against your own

"Open your eyes, look." you oblige, his red orbs instantly catches yours. he push your cheek with his own

"Are you hungry baby" he asks in a disgustingly sweet voice "Yes" you cut short at his little game "Can't it wait tomorrow" he adds grinding his hips against your own never losing the eye contact "No" you respond dryly 

"I'm sure it can, to me it look like your hungry for something else hum ?" he coos in your ear.

Even though you're mad at him right now you know that he is right, the turmoil in your belly is what made you wake up but now that he is on top of you whispering in your ears your hunger has moved to your lower belly.

"Right ? Look at you baby you've been deprived for so long I can't even blame you" Cheek still pressed against yours he whisper sweetly caressing your shoulder with his free hand,you shiver at his touch "I'm sorry Sukuna"he shushes you pressing a kiss on your cheek "I'm going to take care of you baby I should have a long time ago"

Taking off his body from yours he rests on his calf now you miss the heat his body provided. before you can complain he lifts your shirt to uncover your panties and he chuckles

"Would you look at that ? Slutty girlfirend wearing lace underwear in the course of a busy moving I'm starting to think that you planned this" his comment makes heat rise to your cheek as you bury your head in the pillow to avoid his gaze. He spanks your bottom "Don't shy out now i want your eyes on me at all time do you understand?" "Yes I do," you answer in a small voice.

Sukuna makes quick work of your underwear and shirt leaving you naked facing the mirror. He positions you on all four pushing your head against the mattress in a way you still can watch him. He spreads your asscheeks running his finger up and down your slit before spitting on it, you flinch at the contact earning a laugh from your lover. You roll your eyes at his antics. Soon his fingers find their way inside  your cunt you gasp at the sudden intrusion but relax when you feel the in and out motion of his digits. You start to throw your hips back to meet his thrust eager to feel more. 

The image the mirror is displaying is sinful. Both of your bodies are in the light of the moon so you can clearly distinguish the black marks on your boyfriend's body, his brows are knitted eyes travelling between your face and your pussy to admire each of your reactions. He knows your body perfectly and the way he curls his finger has you building up your orgasm quickly. Before you can feel any release he pulls them out, your eyes go wide as you're searching for his eyes in the mirror. You turn around facing him

"Why did you stop i was so close" you cry  reaching for his hand, he dirges it to his crotch

"I'm going to come in my pants like an teenager if i don't fuck you right now" you hear the urgence in his voice. The past few weeks must have been frustrating for him too. You capture his lips in a heated kiss to show that you understand before resuming your position.

Sukuna pulls his underwear down eagerly before stroking his cock a few times. You wiggle your ass to gain his interest again, being finally second away from what you've been wanting for weeks. Getting the memo he grabs your side firmly locking his lustful gaze with yours one more time. You both let out a filthy moan when he enters your pussy, it's just the tip and it makes your whole body buzz needing more. He gradually buries his length inside of you making your eyes roll in the back of your head. It's been so long, the stretch makes you feel alive again.Sukuna starts to thrust in and out of you, tightening his grip on your hips . 

The empty room echoes with moan grunts and the wet sound of your bodies meeting you feel so slutty right now creaming on Sukuna's cock while you should probably get some rest but the sensation is too good you bury your head in the pillow to muffle your cries. Sukuna's body leans on top of you when he grabs your hair to pull you from the covers. you meet his eyes through the mirror one more time"Say my name baby let them know who you belong to" the tears well up in your eyes at his request.You extend your hands in front of you gripping the sheets. `` Sukuna" you pant "Can't hear you baby" he grunt in your neck "Sukuna! fuck" you moan at his hard thrust "Feel so good" you cry. the tears fall freely from your eyes blurring your vision. You're on edge overwhelmed by what you see and what you feel. 

Pulling harder on your hair Sukuna positions you on top of him as he rests on his butt. Bitting on your neck and playing with your tits his head rests just above your shoulder to look at the sweet torture he's inflicting you. By now your fucked dumb on his cock you head resting agaisnt his as you don't have the strenght to hold it on your own. Slick is running down your inner thigh and the new added pleasure he grants you by playing with your chest has you muttering incoherent moans out loud.  It gets worse when one of his hands travels south to your mound rubbing at your clit; it feels like an electric shock as he starts bouncing you on his cock again. It only takes a few strokes for your body to spasm against his finally consumed by the pleasure. But he doesn't stop there moving your body up and down like a ragdoll, searching for his own release. His grunts get louder, his thrust sloppier, you know his close. 

Suddenly you feel the mattress against your back opening your eyes you see Sukuna thighs encasing your face as he stroke is cock above your head knowing what he is thinking about you open your mouth. His breath is erratic but you still catch the "good girl" he mutters at your obedience.The stream of his cum fill your mouth and you swallow it whole licking your lips when you're done, the taste is gross but it feels weirdly satisfying at the moment. Sukuna breathing is back to normal he caress your cheek a tender gaze directed to you

"This will get you through the night hm ? A dirty midnight snack for my dirty girl" he coos. You lean into his touch kissing his palm

"Thank you Sukuna '' your eyes are getting heavy by the second you finally close them. You hear the sheets ruffles and the cover being pulled over your body. You let out a satisfied hum when the warm body of your boyfriend presses against yours.

The next morning you're on your way out to buy some groceries, closing the door and walking down the hallway when you come face to face with a neighbor, he is tall with jet black hair and emerald green eyes. You notice a scar adorning the corner of his mouth. A playful grin appears on his face  when he notices you greet him not knowing if you should introduce yourself. You notice his eyes lingering on your neck when you realise that it's probably littered with bite marks, you gasp in embarrassment rushing to the stairs. You hear a deep from where you left the mischievous neighbour. 

[angelismmm]

Hey! Could I perhaps request Kazuha, Venti, Heizou and Scaramouche with a reader who looooves sitting on their lap? Could be fluffy, suggestive or smutty idc!!

⟢ 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ft. kazuha, venti, heizou, scaramouche

・ sypnosis. i cant think of a summary for this, but just headcannons of reader who loves sitting on their spouse's lap!

・notes. yay motive is back, i'm so happy i'm actually recieving requests now, pls keep sending!!!

・warnings. suggestive, generally fluffy, maybe slight spoilers for in-game story, some of these, or most of these, are relationship hcs, so beware!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐑: 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄

・probably only after you guys have been dating, a few dates later, or enough dates that you'd be invited to his pristine palace of ivy, cough aka a small home in sumeru that his aunt buer gave him. and honestly after that one date he decided to have (because you asked), at home, after that he's decided on mostly just inviting you over and spending time together either (window) shopping or just at home, he probably took a cat that was just walking around home, they're best friend forever now, probably named him something overly cute, and maybe a bit childish, would probably be your name mixed up, or those really generic names for the cat breed. probably prefers white cats with them blue eyes, like a ragdoll! if he's had that cat since before you guys dated, he'd call both of you doll probably, if it's after, it'd either be your name or something generic (again) like cloud, misty, or lily, maybe even a flower's name.

・but back to where i was, the first time you got to sit in his lap was when you were watching something with him, i like to think there are at least cds and basic little tvs sumeranian people can watch on, but again back to what i was saying, you both were watching something, he was probably against the headrest sitting up, the cat he brought home was on top of his head, he's pretty petty and childish so probably would fight for popcorn if it ever came down to that, and it did, so what you decided on was to sit on his lap with the popcorn in your hands, so that no more arguing. and honestly it felt nice, being wrapped around in warm blankets, combined with a pretty boy cuddling you from behind, definitely felt nice. you just didn't notice the bulge in his pants growing.

・obviously he hasn't really been in a romantic relationship before, let alone a forever friend kind. so it's really new to him, and almost anything about you does something to him, a bit of revealed skin? hard, getting to see how you fight against enemies? hard, like anything you do he loves, just hates to admit it. even if you compliment him, he gets really flustered, really easily. sooner, or later his little tsundere act will end, he's really giddy on the inside, i promise you that.

・on those days where you do feel a little down, he just happened to offered you to sit on his lap... he likes those little moments between the both of you, where you both are in each other's space, skin to skin contact, just you and him, together, snuggled in together, you staying in his lap honestly made him miss it every time you weren't on his lap. he did find it annoying at first, obviously, but he warmed up to it soon enough. he always acted like he hated it when you did, but he liked it enough he let you stay. probably once you sleep he'll kiss you on the forehead, lets out all the thoughts he's had about you, everything he loves about you, everything that's been bothering him. sincerely, he doesn't care if you happen to just still being awake. likes to rest his head on yours if ur smaller than him, if ur taller, he likes it better to rest his head on your shoulders.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐈: 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

・would maybe allow it, just as long as you both are around no one else, or people you trust. but it isn't like he doesn't favor pda, really encourages it actually. but he prefers those little moments with you both, just alone together. one of the most precious, and pristine memories he has with you. he thinks of it as cuddling, in general doesn't really mind. loves every bit of affection you give.

・probably holds you by your waist then lifts you up onto his lap. probably tickles you and gives you a whole bunch of kisses, and maybe in front of the moon. and he'd go the moon is lovely isn't it. and he'd be giving the really lovey dovey looking stare down at you, and he'd add onto the lil' poetic line he just spat out with more smooth pickup lines, again. likes to give kisses on your neck, he's kinda cheesy, but it's also in a loving way, and only for you.

・doesn't really care if you do sit on his lap at random times, just know when is the appropriate time you know? overall loves it when you do, not the kind of guy to get hard when you sit on his lap though. (just dry hump him a bit and that'll do the trick.)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐃: 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈

・he gets all giddy and shit. "you need me now?" he says then giggles at you, proudly presents to everyone that the oh so great and wonderful y/n is his. places his hand on your thigh and everything, lowkey a tease tryna make you horny sometimes. always allows it, but will tease the shit out of you. and sometimes when you rest he'll nibble on your neck just to wake you up and watch you fall asleep again. it's not consistent either so you never know when he'll kiss your neck or anything, it annoys you but it's definitely why you love him.

・probably likes to whisper stuff into your ear, like the spicy kind of stuff, just to get your reaction. thinks your flustered expression is the cutest. also tickles you while tryna ask you something probably.

・not the best at comforting you when you're a bit down, so he offers you to sit in his lap, while he tells you stories of the past, not even the oldest people of mondstadt remember, not clearly at least. if you allow him, will play with your hair while talking to you. these are the mostly serious moments you have with him, the romantic serious moments, where he stops joking around, and actually tries to help. he tries to make jokes to put a smile on your face though. he'll do anything to see your face light up again, and praise the archons, as he's the one who put the happy little expression on your face.

・he loves you, and your affection, he has his boundaries, but he loves you in general for this. at first he was a little cheeky about it at first, but it grew on him, always prepared for it now, because he doesn't wanna get tackled over his improper sitting position. very childish, but that's what he loves about you. and that's why you love him.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔 ・awfully surprised at first, for someone who expects the unexpected, this is not what he meant by he wants to get surprised, probably gets a bit flustered, you wanna sit on his lap? gee alright, you sure though? may be a bit playful sometimes, but doesn't hesitate to make sure you're really okay with it. the first time you did it, he was definitely really worried, were you comfortable? did you sense his nervousness? archons, you look like heaven when your pretty face is as close to his. what did he do to deserve such a beauty of a partner, mostly those were his thoughts, definitely was really really scared if you were not comfortable with it, even if you assured him he was still scared. ・super flustered at first, even the second, third, fourth, and so on. always catches him off guard, and that never happens, promise. even if he's used to you just jumping onto his lap, hanging your arms around him to tell him about your day, he will always be so red while tryna listen. always so shocked like, huh?? that happened?? ・you tended to be super affectionate, he wasn't used to it, so whenever your hands were around his neck, or your lips on his, or when you slept on his chest, it wasn't his first relationship, but the first time the other person was affectionate, so much so, that you decided to sit on his lap, and wanted to do that whenever you wanted to tell him about stuff! you think it's hilarious that he gets all shades of red when you do kiss him, but don't tell him that he'll become a tomato, again. ・overall 100% enthusiastic about it, keep doing it because he loves it, and breathes for your affectionate. questionably supportive about the idea, still kinda teases you about it like when you a bit upset that's overly stupid and/or childish about something he'll go "aww poor baby, wanna sit on my lap and talk about it?", if you say yes he'll be flustered, ez gg

lowkey tho i giggled while writing this, swinging my feet in the air n shi

[shoukiko]

How the TF2 Mercs would react to you wanting to paint their nails <3

a/n: I hope you guys will appreciate this, TF2 holds a special place in my heart, I've loved it for years so doing this makes me all giddy inside. If you have ay requests, please message me! I do CoD and TF2!! Enjoy! <3

Scout

Would be like "I ain't into that type of things, Toots."

After some convincing would let you paint his thumb and only his thumb.

Perhaps he sees you all happy while doing it and says it's okay for just *one more* finger.

Square nails, I don't make the rules.

Which then turns into his whole hand.

Shows it off to the team because YOU were the one who did it and they should be jealous.

"TAKE A FUCKIN GANDER YA BUNCH OF PANSIES"

Would pick off the nail polish as a habit during briefings or when he's not paying attention.

Feels bad coming back to you with his awful manicure.

"Don't be such a stick in the mud, at least you get to hold my hand." Dick

Medic

Would love to have you paint his nails, but he thinks it would cause issues during his procedures

Ya know, cuz he doesn't wear gloves....for whatever reason

"Please.... :(" "Oh... Meine Taube.. How can I ever say no to you?"

100% Short round nails. Maybe not slender/skinny fingers, but they're def on the thinner side.

Ends up forcing himself to wear gloves just so they won't get ruined.

He thinks your careful and skilled hands are very attractive and "intriguing" as you paint them.

He's weird like that, You love it.

He loves you....maybe too much....He'd probably cut your hands off if you said yes.

He's the type to ask lol

Spy

No

No again

Stop asking

He wears gloves anyways, why do you want to so bad?

He doesn't have time for these silly games!!!!

"Mon canard, Please. This is too immature for me" "So you're saying you don't love me?" *Smug look*

You win

He has very nice nails by the way. Perfect nails, perfect slender hands.

He doesn't really say much, but you can tell from his eyes he enjoys such an intimate moment.

He tells noone and shows noone, but he likes to be in his room jsut looking at them, thinking of you.

Would do yours if you asked....nicely

Pyro

I mean this is obviously a yes.

The gloves are off before you finish your sentence.

Scarred hands, maybe missing a nail on a finger, but that's okay.

Picks the colors, they want pink. Lotta pink.

Get's excited when you bring up stickers.

Rocks a pink and purple manicure with a flower sticker on their missing nail.

Becomes a weekly thing, your little spa day. :)

Heavy

Skeptical, but why not? Couldn't hurt.

Lot of surface area, dudes hands are bigger than your face.

He finds it amusing that your hands are so small compared to his.

He's letting you paint his nails, but he'd like some dark colors.

Maybe not black, more like blue or maybe red occasionally/

"One sticker?" "No sticker, thank you" "Okay one sticker" "...Okay, for you"

Sniper

"If it'll make ya happy, doll."

Falls asleep as you paint them.

Rough hands, tan lines from his gloves, he has dirty finger nails :Gross:

You throw in some....cleaning... just cuz you care.

I love this man so much, but oh my god I just know he's musty.

You give him plain black nails, one white nail on his ring fingers

You don't do his thumb, you notice the big bruise under his nail, idk what those are called.

I looked it up it's called Garand Thumb (It's so canon)

You fight with him because you wanna know of it's like a hematoma or not (Gross I know, but I'd do it)

Engineer

Well it's not something he'd find himself doing on his own, would probably think it's silly until he met you.

"As long as I don't look all frou frou after, I'm fine with anything Darlin' "

AAAA TALK TO ME LIKE THAT

Thick fingies, like fat hands a bit, slightly rough because of how much he works. Only slightly because he still wears gloves.

I like to think his hands are covered in oil/dirt most of the time, He does wash them, but he's just always workin on something.

Would wash them before you paint them though. Lovely little you can't be getting your perfect hands dirty.

He wants yellow, give him yellow nails. Like sunshine yellow, like his hat.

He thinks it's "Just lovely lookin' "

Demoman

You don't ask, you just paint them while he's passed out drunk.

You give him rainbow nails, Glitter top coat. You're so mean

Surprisingly soft hands, Big and thick, very soft. My goodness you're even jealous by how nice they are.

He even has the perfect nails for painting. What doesnt this man have?

Oh wait

He's PISSED when he wakes up.

Probably calls it gay (But like....worse)

Sees you sad because of how he reacted.

Slumps in his chair, "They're 'right...."

Grows to like them (more like live with them)

Maybe in like 2 weeks to see hims again, they're still painted, just a bit withered away.

He loves em

Soldier

"DO I LOOK LIKE SOME SORT OF PANSY TO YOU, MAGGOT???"

You offer to do them in the colors of the American flag

He accepts obviously

You do it standing up cause he is just...there. Stiff as a board.

Wide nails, Rough knuckles, calluses.

When you're done he salutes you.

"Well done, Maggot. Now I won't have to kill you." Sure buddy

I hope you guys liked it!!

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Alright, for your event

May I get the song Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton, with either Dogma or Fox, please?

And Congrats on your followers!

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

Ahhhh my love, thank you so much for putting in a request. It makes me so happy.

I wrote it with Dogma, simply because I hardly ever write about him, so I hope I did him justice.

I'm not sure if you'll appreciate my interpretation of Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton, but I do hope you enjoy this.

Love oo

Ordinary Day

Warnings: feeling overwhelmed, stressed, a little anxious, angsty, fluff, unexpressed feelings, mentions of prison. I think that's it. If I miss anything let me know.

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

You sat on the edge of the basecamp just needing to breathe, to find a quiet moment that was surrounded by talking, yelling, screaming (either in pain or otherwise). It was just constant, a constant drone, and all you wanted was silence. It took some time, but you finally found it, here at the edge of the field, as you breathed in the fresh breeze, while looking up at the night sky. Everyone else was running around too busy to actually take a moment to admire the view, and you couldn’t blame them really, there was a battle that needed to be prepared for, medics needed to make sure they had the supplies needed for the eventual loss of life and injuries to be sustained. 

You had your own preparations too, as the communications specialists, it was your job to make sure everyone knew what they were doing or where they were supposed to be positioned. However, General Skywalker was kind enough to realize you were on your last tether. 

He told you to get lost for at least two hours, and if anyone had a problem with that, well they could just talk to him about it. Although he didn’t look it, he was a really nice and considerate General. Well… some of the time. 

You simply closed your eyes, smiling as you felt another burst of fresh breeze brushing against your face. 

You couldn’t help it when your smile grew bigger as you heard those familiar footsteps. The sound of his movements were so strict and firm. So Dogma. 

“You’re not suppose to be out here”

You tried to fight back your giddiness even though it never worked, “I have special permission to be out here. I’m taking a mental break before I shoot someone.”

There was shifting and you felt rather than saw him sit beside. 

Dogma looked at your beautiful face, and despite himself, despite knowing it was against regulations, despite the fact that he could get in trouble for this, he couldn’t pull his eyes away or stop his hand from brushing an errant hair back into place. 

“You still shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“I’m not alone, you’re here” you still hadn’t looked at him, because you knew the minute you did, your resolve would crumble and the only emotion in your eyes that would shine as clear as day would be your admiration for him. 

“You got me there.” He smirked as he looked at you, “I had that same dream again.” You turned this time to look at him, listening as his eyes held just as much adoration and feeling as your own did, “I was just an ordinary guy, not a soldier, not a clone. I reached over and held your hand, feeling as though this is where I was meant to be. With you, under the stars.”

You felt the heat rush to your face as he kept talking and staring at you with those warm brown eyes, those eyes that said more than his lips ever could. 

“Stupid right?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Not stupid.” Your smile widened as you thought of your own sentiments and emotions, “It sounds like a perfectly ordinary dream, an ordinary dream that could be solved just by holding my hand.” You moved your hand towards his, offering it for him to take. 

His eyes drifted down to your palm, Maker, how he wanted to reach out and take it, how he wanted to rip off his gloves and feel your warmth against his own skin. But he was a good soldier, and good soldiers followed orders. His gaze shifted and looked up to the stars, “It’s an ordinary dream for an ordinary boy. Not a soldier.” He stood brushing off the dust, “We should head back in, it’s against regulations to be here outside of the camp after dark.”

You focused your eyes away from his and nodded, slowly standing, as your tears fought back against the warm bubble rising. You turned to look at him, but those affectionate eyes were gone and now there was nothing but the soldier. 

You jolted from your bed, looking up at the ceiling rafters, as the warm sun spread over your bed. You rubbed your eyes, trying to remember where you were, calming your racing heart, when you heard him clear his throat. You didn’t bother to fight the smile that appeared on your face, as you slowly turned to look at Dogma as he leaned against the door frame.

“Morning, mesh’la. Caf’s ready.” He walked over and placed down your mug on the bed side table, something he did every morning ever since you broke him out of prison and ran away to an outer rim planet. 

“Morning, gorgeous”

“Come on, time to start the day.” He smiled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You pulled him closer, “I have a better idea.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, you stay here with me.”

“Hmmm sounds perfect,” he leaned closer, pressing his lips to yours, “like a perfect ordinary day.” 

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified @griffedeloup @leotatombs @leotawrites

[sloanerisette]

Fic For Odaiba Day 2024: You Need A Promotion, I Want A Shake Up, So Let's Get Married!

Hello everyone! Happy Odaiba Day! 25 years of Digimon! It's incredible to think about! I'm so happy I've gotten back into this show and this fandom because it's been so wonderful!

I know it's not Odaiba Day in America but it IS Odaiba Day in Japan so I'm going to post the FIRST of my two fics I'm osting for Odaiba Day!

Title: You Need A Promotion, I Want A Shake Up, So Let's Get Married! Summary: A newly 30 Mimi Tachikawa has it all: great friends, her dream career, and tons of fans, but she's missing one thing: a relationship she isn't allowed to have because of an overbearing manager.

Jou Kido is living a simple life: he goes to work at his father's hospital, he comes home, he goes to sleep and does it again. However, pressure from his father has him needing to live up to his lofty expectations to one day secure a promotion that will make all of the work he's done in his life worth it.

When the two of them get in touch after so many years and learn of each other's struggles, they decide on the obvious solution: pretend they're married. Big thanks to Camp Digimonth and zuz-senpai for all the support and excitement for this fic! I'm so happy to have this first chapter out and I hope you all enjoy! I'll post a blurb here under the read more, but you can view the fic on AO3 HERE!

Bright lights shined in her face, which a make up artist was currently patting foundation on. Mimi Tachikawa sat in a chair, curlers in her hair, phone held gingerly in her nicely manicured hands, and she tapped through it and looked through her contacts..

In three days it would be her thirtieth birthday, and she couldn’t be more excited. She was excited to reach a new milestone in her life— not that turning thirty was a particularly big one, anyways— and more than that, she was getting the finishing touches set up for her big birthday party. She rented out a fancy Italian restaurant at one of the nicest hotels in the area, one that had a beautiful view of the bay, and a bunch of her friends would be there to celebrate with her. Though the invites she sent out already were for fellow models who she worked with and became friends with since her late teens and early twenties, an old photo popping up on her phone reminded her of another group of friends she needed to invite. She tried to keep it small at first, but, well, she was Mimi! How could she keep an event like this small when she had so many friends? Especially friends.

And though she hadn’t had a chance to spend as much time with them as she wanted to for years, they were old friends and classmates who meant the world to her: Yagami Taichi, Ishida Yamato, Takenouchi Sora, Izumi Koushiro, Kido Jou, Takaishi Takeru, Yagami Hikari, Motomiya Daisuke, Inoue Miyako, Hida Iori, and Ichijouji Ken.

Twelve extra people was going to be a big ask considering she already had, what, twenty some other people going? But she couldn’t leave them out. It had been a long time since she sat down with most of them, but they were still all friends to some degree.

“Tachikawa-san? I need to apply your lipstick real quick,” the young woman who was doing her makeup told her. Mimi’s eyes flicked up to her and she smiled.

“Of course! What color?” she asked.

“It’s this,” the girl said, holding up a lipstick tube that was colored a beautiful, deep, rich burgundy.

“Oooh, that looks great! Go ahead!”

Mimi puckered her lips, and as the make-up artist started to apply the first coat, she glanced back down at her phone, adding each of them to a group chat. Once the makeup artist finished the first coat of lipstick, Mimi started rapidly firing off messages.

[Tachikawa Mimi]: Hey everyone! It’s Mimi!

[Tachikawa Mimi]: I’m having my 30th bday in a few days! And you’re all invited!

[Tachikawa Mimi]: Sorry for it being so late notice! I’ll send you all the time and location!

She sent the RSVP from her calendar, unable to stop from feeling giddy, practically bouncing in her seat. Her phone immediately buzzed like wild, and she couldn’t wait to check on it after the shoot.

The girl finished the second coat of lipstick, and Mimi looked at herself in the mirror as she then removed the curlers, letting her hair fall down in loose curls and waves.

“Is hair and makeup done?” a man’s voice called from the other end of the room.

“Yup!” the make up artist chirped back. Mimi popped up from the chair. She gave herself a once over, turning to one side, then the other, to appreciate the midnight blue evening gown she had on. Combined with the lipstick and her honey brown hair, she looked like a real stunner, if she said so herself.

“This looks great! You did an incredible job! Thank you so much,” she beamed, before heading over to the set.

[sidipopsicle]

Heart On Your Sleeves

A short romantic Parfait Cookie x Currant Cream Cookie fic! I gotta sing my Currfait gospel somehow ♡

Pairing: Parfait Cookie/Currant Cream Cookie

Summary: The cute punk fashionista from next door visits the sandwich shop Parfait works at once again! But is this time different, somehow..?

As Parfait Cookie works the front counter of Sandwich Cookie's sandwich shop, a ring resounds from the bell on the front door.

Waking Parfait from her slow-day stupor, she finds herself in front of the nearby up-and-coming fashion designer, Currant Cream Cookie. Most of this cookie's visits are quite pleasant, yet Parfait always notices how quick she is to enter, and quick she is to leave--a bit of an absent-minded busybody in the hustle and bustle of city life. Parfait straightens up, ready to greet another of her fine regulars on such a nice, warm spring day.

"Hi there! What can i get for you, miss?"

"Hello...oh! I saw you working here the other day!"

Parfait smiles and giggles politely. Seeing someone recognize her is very comforting to hear from the regulars of this shop in particular. Usually the customers that come back tend to be friendly, and despite Currant Cream Cookie's punky demeanor, her silly smile defies the dark and dangerous colors she dons.

"Ah, yes! I remember you very well! Umm.....your sandwich last time was.......the Jellymeat Sammy with extra Fresh Greens, yeah?"

"Wow!"

Currant Cream Cookie's eyes widen in surprise.

"Yeah, totally! Its so cool that you remember something that specific!"

"Ahaha, don't mention it. I'm not usually great at remembering things like this, but you live so nearby, umm, that i just thought i should be mindful! Does that make sense?

"Ooh yeah! Definitely makes sense."

Both cookies nod at eachother, happy to have formed a sort of mutual understanding of one another, even if its mainly about the eating habits of a random neighbor....a brief bout of anxious silence runs its course as Currant Cream Cookie has her usual order rung up on the register and swiftly paid for. Her boots clack on the floor as she shifts her weight a bit, somehow...giddy?

"Well, I could probably go sit down now," Currant Cream notes, leaning over and sitting her elbows on the counter as she peers closer, "buuuut while the store is empty, i have something ive GOT to say."

Parfait Cookie's heartbeat quickens a bit with worry. Is this punk rock fashionista upset about something? Is there something on Parfait's face? Is it something else..?

"Your shirt."

"Aah..? Under the apron?"

"Mhm. The rock band shirt."

Currant Cream shifts so she's leaning over the counter cutely with a sudden spring in her demeanor, palms flat on the countertop, her eyes inexplicably shining with a sort of inspired glee that Parfait feels like she understands the feeling of.

"You should come to my shop after work!!!"

"-Eh? Wuhh???!"

"Hehehe~ You heard me!"

Parfait stands shocked, a little confused. What about her shirt prompted this all of a sudden?

"W-what for?"

"Look."

Currant Cream reaches her hand past the counter and pulls ever so gently on Parfait's short sleeve. Parfait Cookie, surprised and with her cheeks flushing pink, briefly stands there like a little deer in headlights. As she gathers her composure and peers down at the sleeve, she notices the fabric is completely torn at the seams. Darn, and to think she believed she got dressed today with no problems...her fave shirt too...

"I could fix that up quick later, free of charge. You need only walk into my studio and say hi. Sounds good?"

Parfait nods, giving a humble smile.

"Punky!! See you later then sammich lady!"

And with that, the cute punk fashionista skips very merrily right out the front doors of whence she came, the same bell from before signifying her exit.

Parfait stands stupefied. Something about that dual-toned hair and sharp fang in her grin was charismatic like no other today...and the way her shoes clacked against the shop's tile as she hopped off, it echoed a bit off the walls and right into Parfait's eardrums, reminding her of a song idea she has yet to piece to fruition. But right as Parfait is imagining a tune or a melody.....

"ORDER UP!!! ONE JELLYMEAT SAMMY WITH EXTRA FRESH GREENS!"

Oh!

Oh, crumbs...

Currant Cream Cookie forgot about her sandwich??!

[dull-c]

merry christmas, happy hols, and happy new year @itskotka !! surprise i'm your @cksecretsanta23 hehe! hope you enjoy this little robby story I wrote ya.

-

Ghosts of Christmases Past

In the memory he’s still a kid, ankle deep in polystyrene. Tiny bean bag beans cling to the Christmas tree, to his sweater sleeves, and a giddiness pinches his chest.

Robby’s not sure why he’s thinking of it now; his legs propped up on the arm of a sofa, a girl’s - he thinks she said her name was Carly - hand light on his arm. Someone at this house party must have been talking about the holidays, he thinks. Or maybe it was the rainbow-colored flashing fairy lights winding their way across the ceiling above him. Either way, the images keep resurfacing, floating through his mind. It’s a nice memory, or it seems like it anyway, but he can’t quite place the when and where - can’t tell who was around - if anyone was at all.

It occurs to him as he’s lying there, high as a kite, maybe a little buzzed too; bones vibrating with mishmash of shouting voices over pounding music, that it probably feels nice because of that missing context. His other childhood Christmas memories, even the ones that felt cozy and warm, usually went hand in clenched hand with recollections of his mom glancing repeatedly at her watch, at her phone. Tight line of her mouth, worrying deeper as the day went on. She’d stopped promising him time from his dad, knew better by then, but he’d been able to tell anyway when she was expecting him, and he didn’t show. Her disappointment and frustration bled through him like red wine into cheap tablecloth.

Someone walking by knocks against his feet hard, jerking Robby back into the present. The hand on his arm moves, pats his chest soothingly like he’s a startled dog, and it’s just overfamiliar; maternal enough to make him sit up and out of its grasp, head running cartwheels as he does. Robby stills for a moment, breathes deep and long, til he’s pretty sure he’s not going to headbutt the carpet when he tries to get up.

He calls his mom first, as he’s weaving his way through the drunken, dancing, handsy bodies in the hallway, but gets her voicemail. So, he tries the longer shot.

“Who’s playing that garbage music?” his dad asks, when he picks up. “Where are you?”

“Kenny’s place,” Robby lies, after a slightly-too-long moment of dead air. He slips out the front door and pulls his phone away from his ear to check the time. It’s still pretty early, still possibly within visiting your karate friend’s house hours.

There’s an even longer pause on his dad’s end, like he’s not buying it for a second, and is trying to decide whether to push it.

“Oh yeah? Miguel with you?”

Carmen says something in the background, and Robby can’t quite make out the words, but he’s sure they both already know where Miguel is, and he really didn’t drink or smoke enough to fall into that trap.

“No, just Kenny and a couple guys from class. Listen, I’m just calling because I need to ask you a question.”

“Okay.” He still sounds skeptical. “What’s up?”

“You know those tiny little balls that people stuff into bean bags?”

“Yeah right, the beans. Look kind of edible but they’re not.”

“Those, yeah.” Robby sits on a chair by the porch, rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, no idea how to ask the thing he wanted to ask, now that he’s about to ask it. “I have this memory of like, uh, you know, - maybe it’s a dream, I don’t know. I’m standing in a bunch of them? And there’s this little Christmas tree and I’m like - were you? I don’t– Do you, uh, remember anything?”

“Run that by me again?” His dad’s voice sounds far away, pitchy through the phone. “You’re not making much sense. You’re standing where?”

It’s cooler outside than in, but Robby’s face is starting to crowd with heat. Why did he think it was a good idea to call about this again? Why is he fixating on one stupid happy ancient memory he’s not sure even happened? It’s summer for fuckssake.

“No, forget it, you probably weren’t even–” He blows out a deep breath. “I gotta go.”

“You good, Rob?” His dad’s voice has lost the distrust, it’s just concern now. “Is this about Tory?” There’s a beat, and then rustling on the other end of the call. “Tell me where you are, I can send someone to–”

Robby cuts him off. There’s a weird heaviness behind his eyes and a twinge in his throat. He thinks he might need to throw up or something.

“I’m good, Dad. It doesn’t matter. Enjoy the rest of your weekend away, okay? Tell Carmen I said hi.”

“Robby–”

He hangs up, and violently shoves his phone into the back of his jeans.

When Robby slips back inside, someone has moved into his dip in the couch and he can’t see Possibly Carly or her arm anywhere, so he downs another beer and heads out to the backyard. It’s marginally less hazy and loud and smells a little better. He settles into a cheap plastic lawn chair next to some rich kids talking increasingly loudly about their vacation to Greece and closes his eyes for a moment.

He opens them again maybe seconds, minutes, hours later. The rich, loud kids are gone, and someone is saying his name repeatedly. He looks up, disoriented; finds himself being stood over by the girl who featured in most of his juvie nightmares, looking paradoxically like something out of a teen romcom, in her cute, oversized sweater and big boots and scrunched curls. The pool light is framing her from behind, making her look kind of glowy.

Angel of the morning. Evening. Friday night, or whatever.

“Sam?” He lowers his voice to an almost-whisper. “Wait, are you real?”

Robby’s sure this must be another trip into his memories, another glimpse of something stored away from a time when things were good; easy, when they could still sense each other’s movement, wet boards under their feet, sun beating down in their sticky, sweaty bodies shifting together in complete sync.

Sam slugs him in the arm. “That feel real?”

“Ow, jesus.”

“Nope, just me.” Sam holds out her hands, and beckons impatiently. “Come on Fear and Loathing, time to go.”

Robby takes her hands, but when she tries to pull him up he holds his weight, leans back a bit.

“How’d you know where I was?”

“Karate spy network.”

Robby blinks at her.

“Your dad called my dad,” Sam elaborates, letting go of his hands. “And then my dad called me.” She fishes around in her pocket and pulls out her phone. “And I’d made you activate the Find My app, after the last time you went on the run.” She waves her phone at him. “Fool me once, Robert Swayze.”

Sam takes his hands and tries hauling him to feet again, but Robby doesn’t resist this time and realizes too late that she’s expecting him to. She pulls hard, overbalances, and seemingly in slow motion, tips backwards. She pulls Robby down trying to stop herself, and he falls heavily on top of her with an oof; hips to hips, chest to chest, just narrowly avoiding smacking his forehead into her nose.

“Shit, sorry,” Robby says, rolling off her immediately, feeling humiliated now for maybe the third or fourth time tonight. “You okay?”

“I think,” she wheezes, visibly winded, “that was second base.”

Robby bites back a laugh and helps Sam sit up, brushes some foliage out of her hair while she catches her breath. When they’ve regained some balance, they pull each other to their feet again.

“Come on,” Sam shouts, as they make their way back through the house, over the noise and maze of teenage bodies. “We can grab a burger on the way to mine.”

He lets himself be pulled through it.

“Your house?”

“You’re not going back to your flat on your own.” Sam turns and looks at him over her shoulder, smirks. “Don’t ask my dad if he’s real though, or he’s gonna lose it.”

Mr. Larusso is waiting up for them, in his towel robe and slippers, bent over a book at the table. His expression relaxes a little when he sees them, and Robby’s not sure if that’s relief or if he’s purposely hiding a more unpleasant reaction, but he’s not yelling or kicking anyone’s doors in, so he’s just going to try and roll with it.

“Hi Robby, Sam.”

“Hey Mr. Larusso.” He swallows, and it feels loud. “Sorry to - I know it’s late-”

“It’s not that late,” Sam interrupts, waving her hand dismissively. “Don’t let Dad’s pajamas confuse you, he’s been in them since seven-thirty.”

“It was eight, at least,” Mr. Larusso mutters, sounding genuinely put out by the thirty-minute discrepancy. He gives Robby's shoulder a quick, friendly squeeze as he slips by him. “Sit down, I’ll make you a coffee.”

Sam hands Robby a glass full of water and nudges him toward the sofa, as Mr. Larusso disappears into the kitchen. The TV is playing some old Frasier reruns and maybe it’s the weed –he’s pretty sure it’s the weed– but it feels like he’s walked back into a memory of something he can barely remember. Something warm; gentle; missed tugs at his chest as Sam flops down next to him on the familiar sofa and tucks her head against shoulder, easy as breathing.

Sounds of the coffee machine groaning into life drift in from the next room, and then Mr. Larusso’s voice.

“Hey Johnny, just letting you know–” Mr. Larusso stops, heaves a sigh so long-suffering Robby’s sure he can feel his exhale half a room away. “What do you mean ‘who is this’? The caller ID is right on your-” Another long, exasperated sigh. “Of course you are. Yeah, he’s here.” His voice is a little warmer, softer now. “He’s a little glassy-eyed but seems fine. Yeah, yeah, I’ll put him on.”

Mr. Larusso hands Robby his phone, it’s hot against his ear.

“Dad?”

“Hey champ, everything alright over there?”

His dad’s voice sounds clearer than before, but there’s still an edge of concern.

“Yeah,” Robby answers. “Sam tracked me down on her stalker app, I’m good.”

He hears Sam tsk, but she stays leaning against him.

“Good,” his dad says. “Good. Listen, that thing you were asking me about earlier.”

Robby flinches.

“Yeah, that was weird, sorry.”

“No, I was thinking about it after you called, and I remembered what you were talking about.”

Mr. Larusso places a mug of coffee into his free hand. Robby starts to nod his silent thanks, but he’s already gone again, like a terrifying, coffee-bearing sprite. He sits up a little straighter.

“Oh yeah?”

There’s a rusting noise on the phone, like his dad’s moving around.

“It was when you were four - or five maybe. I can’t remember exactly, but you were just old enough to start calling me a deadbeat to my face.”

Robby’s grip tightens on the mug a fraction.

“I-”

“No, it's fine I was,” His dad clarifies, clearing his throat. “That’s not the point. It was December and I asked you what you wanted for Christmas, and I guess you’d been watching a bunch of TV specials or something and you said, all serious and shit, like it was a challenge, that you wanted a White Christmas.”

Robby laughs.

“Oh man, I wanted snow in the San Fernando Valley?”

“Exactly! As rare as hen’s tits!”

“Teeth,”

“What?”

“Never mind, sorry, go on.”

“Okay, right,” his dad continues, and Robby pretty much knows by now where the story is going, but he lets him tell it anyway. He wants to hear him tell it. “So, you weren’t going to get real snow, but I don’t like to back down from a clear challenge either - no matter how puny the challenger is. I went to Walmart, got as many of those packets of bean bag beans as I could carry, and filled up your living room with that shit.”

“You brought the snow to the valley.” Robby grins, takes a sip of coffee.

“Shan wasn’t super happy about the cleanup, but man.” There’s laughter in his voice. “You loved it.”

And Robby did, he remembers now, the spaces in his memory filling as his dad talks.

Remembers their tiny flat, polystyrene snow in every direction. His breathless giggling as his dad threw fistfuls of it at him. Looking up at his mom, who was smiling back at him; worries all smoothed away.

He remembers jumping up and down on their ratty sofa while snow rained down over him, and the dizzy happiness pinching his ribs. How, swept up in his joy, he threw his arms out wide and leapt into the blizzard; sure in that moment that someone would catch him.

[toyama-division]

In Toyama, a certain medical researcher had just arrived home and was prepared to enter his house to get ready for bed after a long's day work. ...Though could it certainly be called 'work' considering he didn't do anything at all today? The pharmacy was closed on account of the holiday, and so he spent his day either visiting Asato and his grandmother, or just lazing around his house. Of course, he could have gone to Shinjuku to harass his good friend, Jakurai, but the physician was out of the city for some reason or other.

So upon returning to his place of residence, Kensaku was surprised to see a package outside of his door addressed to him. Picking it up, the item inside felt hard and looked square-like. Unlocking the door, he walked inside, and opened the package, revealing what was inside.

It was a plaque with a prayer on it. Kensaku blinked at the plaque and read it. He wasn't a particularly religious guy, but still, the gesture was nice. Still, who exactly could have sent this to him? His question was answered via a letter on the back of the plaque.

"To Kensaku-san,

A most joyous and prosperous day to you. I wish you a very happy and Merry Christmas. I hope that this letter finds you in good health. When I was informed that I was your Secret Santa, I send some plants to your home, but as I was shopping one day, I spotted this. It reminded me much of you, so I decided to purchase it for you as a Christmas gift. The gift to spread joy and laughter is a good one. I hope that you will continue to use it well. Again, I wish you a most joyous Christmas, and an even more prosperous New Year.

Sincerely,

Shisuta Heisha"

After taking in both the plaque and the letter, Kensaku could not help but laugh. Loudly, even. Not to jeer or mock the gift, but rather a genuine joyful laugh.

"Miss oblivious nun thinks I got a chance, huh? That's great... I gotta put this in my office tomorrow."

True, he may not be religious, but to know that Jakurai's friend who normally didn't get his jokes thought of him to be worthy of such a gift? He couldn't help but feel giddy at the praise.

"I should show Rashaad actually! Prove to him that someone out there thinks I'm hilarious!"

Setting the gift close to his keys to not forget, Kensaku plodded to his bedroom tapping at his phone with a big (smug) grin on his face.

Thank you for the gift! The nun has given Kensaku bragging rights against everyone who says his jokes suck lolololol

[spookyserenades]

Soooo I'm back and i wrote an essay:

Chapter 10

I love the Scooby Doo gang a lot. How Namjoon is eager to learn and help. Also the fact that it brings them together without too many fights 😂

The brewery scene was hot and unexpected. I'm saying unexpected because i kinda hoped she'd go over to the waiter and everyone will be Uhm Ma'am sit yo ass down. But i liked it nonetheless with killer teddy bear being all mrrr. Also, Hobi and miss gorl Alice i see you and you need to either get to it and make us super jealous or nothing at all😭

The surprises for Namjoon and Jimin were so sweet they warmed my heart. The lengths she'll go for them is unimaginable. Like she could've just been like yep there you go a house and food do your thing, but no, she has a big heart.

Now the 3 events. Liked Hobi's, but I'm a lot more inclined towards Yoongi's and Tae's. The fact that be only has eyes for her my love🥹 I want one pls! And then Tae's i get on another level. As an artist myself, i tend to paint people i love a lot, to get the appreciation back is absolutely ecstatic. Also very touchy touchy sir i see you too👀

And then the cliffhanger, bad Dana. Very bad.

Chapter 11

I need to know how the fight went down between them 3. Like air, Dana, I'm telling you! Poor Hobi, he probably thought he's getting kicked out 🥺

Kookie kookie kookie, you are more smitten than we thought you were. Hiding it under the I needed to scent, oh Jin will be a pain. Shut up you lil bastard 😏

And the scenting? I was so giddy...give us more pretty please ☺️

WE HAVE MORE HORSES! Are we also getting a y/n ride scene? It doesn't have to be a horse tho 👀

OMG good job Hannah! Oh i'm happy she is getting a better life. Can't wait to meet her. 🤭🫢😧😐😒Scrap that! Hannah is competition.

Oop jumpscare! Yoongi baby you are wearing JK's personality and that doesn't suit you.

Oh babies🥺🥺🥺

Oh what? Question mark? The bar is...what? Very cryptic. Ok.. Yoongi you locked the door you didn't make the room soundproof. Did they talk about sharing her between themselves? Cuz I'd like to read that as well 😏

Ooop like a sack of potatoes. Uuuuu, are we ever honna see y/n extra super drunk like at that bar?

NOOOO FUCK! YOU ARE SO EVIL WOMAN WHYYYYY?😭😭😭😭

Hiii love nice to hear from you again!! Hope you're well, I can't wait to discuss your thoughts about the last two chapters with you! 💞💞

Chapter Ten -

fdsjfdsjf the Scooby Doo gang I love that!!! MC, Joonie, and Jeongguk make quite the little paranormal investigation squad, I'm definitely looking forward to writing some more adventures the trio will go on with their ghostbusting interests. AHH and the brewery scene was so fun, they hybrids getting to go out and have a good time with MC and Alice was really exciting for me to write. I did play with the idea of MC flirting with the waiter as well, but in the end I wanted to display some of Taehyung's growing possessiveness. Besides-- MC definitely has her hands full with the seven of them! As for Hoseok and Alice *evil laughter* 💀 there are some plot lines that I have planned surrounding those two... we're just going to have to wait and see how it pans out (and how MC will react to it!!!)

MC is just ahhh I want her to adopt me fhdksf like her gift giving skills are unmatched. She really wants all of the hybrids to feel at home and like they have their own belongings, spaces, etc. that make their lives more happy and comfortable. She really really cares for them all 🥺

Hehehe the three events~ for Hoseok's track meet, it was a sort of supportive bestie vibe, whereas Yoongi's and Tae's had a bit more of a romantic feel to them. Tae.. my goodness he probably sees MC as his muse or something, because she's the one who encouraged her to participating in the photography club in the first place. I hope he continues to take pics of her and make friends in the club, as well. He's such a sweet boy, he definitely could use some buddies.

rjGFJDGHD BAD DANA!! I can't help myself with the cliffhangers hehe I'm sorry love!!! 🤭

Chapter Eleven -

So the little spat between Hoseok and Jeongguk... We've seen Hoseok's sort of jokester personality, and I really think he wasn't trying to start anything, but with Jeongguk already on edge needing to scent her again, things got a little heated between those two. Joon, not wanting to upset MC like he had during The Incident (with Tae), played the part of peacemaker, which I think shows how willing he is to change and grow for MC. I think you're right, Hoseok was probably entertaining the idea that MC would be angry enough at him to "kick him out", but MC would never. 😭

AHH and Jeongguk. What a tease!!! I definitely think that he is starting to grow more fond of MC, even though he is a bit reluctant to show it. For some reason, too, he seems to sense how fond Seokjin is of MC, so often brings up his own concern for MC and covers it up by blaming Seokjin hehe....

I do plan on having some horseback riding scenes!! Of course, with our cowboy Jimin, maybe we'll get to see him teach MC how to ride also I see what you did there wink wonk ;)

Hannah!! Good news for her, good news for Seokjin, but MC is already feeling a little jealous. I wonder how things will go down when MC takes Seokjin to meet up with Hannah...

Yoongi being a little impatient and brisk with MC made me upset, too, especially since he's always been one of the softer ones with her. That's probably why MC could sense something was wrong. As for them talking about sharing her, that's certainly a drabble idea, but also, I'm toying with the idea of having it sort of an unspoken agreement between all of the hybrids... we'll see how I decide in the future!!!

SO! When I finally get around to all of the prequels, I plan on having that scene with MC at the bar with Yoongi. Something to look forward to in the future-- his prequel, Fire, Walk with Me. ❤️‍🔥

fjkdszkjfzsjd SORRY FOR BEING EVIL!!! But also thank you for sending me all of your lovely thoughts. Sending you hugs, bestie!! 😘

[dalmascan-requiem]

Tempestuous Rubato: Sake

-------

A well-earned respite, and feelings that needed to be said.

-------

Read on AO3 or keep reading after the jump

content warnings: alcohol and drunkenness

------

IRL it is a stressful ass month for me, so I wanted to take a break from the drama and angst of Resistance to have a fluffy sappy moment with the boys. :)

"The sake… is good."

Kris tries unsuccessfully to suppress a giggle. The statement was simple enough–but seeing as Laurent bobbed his head, seemingly unable to keep it upright as he regarded him, it was easy to tell the man was undeniably drunk.

"It is quite good, my love. And perhaps a little strong…" Kris couldn't deny that his own head felt a bit fuzzy from the alcohol. He always had a high tolerance, but it had been years–decades, even–since he could last indulge. Perhaps an occasional drink here or there, but… after Ishgard…

Kris shook away the dark thought. That was in the past–a lot of things were in the past, but all that mattered was now. Bozja had been successful in their rebellion, and Dalmasca would soon follow. Even more important, though, was that they were together again. Maybe that's the source of my giddiness rather than the sake.

Though he couldn't help to admit the sake was easy to drink, maybe too easy. Before he realized it, they'd gotten through two bottles, and the waitresses almost tempted him into buying a third. They sure know what they're doing. No doubt they're used to lightening heavy coinpurses–

Kris's thoughts are interrupted when he hears a mumble and notices Laurent staring at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you…"

"Your cheeks. They're red. It's cute." Laurent leans forward to poke one of his cheeks, but jabs rather suddenly (and painfully) into Kris's chest instead.

Ow! Gods, how is he still this strong while this drunk… Kris gives a strained smile as he grabs Laurent's hand, interlocking their fingers in an attempt to stop any future jabs. "My love, perhaps… we should head back to the inn for the evening."

"The inn? Why–oh, the inn. Of course. I understand." Laurent gives Kris a side glance that tells him that he is very much misunderstanding the situation. "Yes, let's get back to the inn. To relax."

"...That isn't what I–" Oh, forget it, whatever gets Reyna into the room and asleep. "...Yeah. Sure. Let's get back then. Can you walk?"

***

"This is nice."

"Is it now?" Kris looks down inquisitively at the Viera he was carrying. "You like being carried because you drank too much and now you can't walk?"

"Hm." Laurent is silent for a moment before responding. "Yes! I feel safe. You've gotten so strong! And you're warm."

Kris chuckles. "Well, it is a bit chilly tonight. Worry not, though, we're close to the inn."

Laurent nods, and silence falls over them once again. It doesn't take long for Kris to notice something was off, however. "What's wrong, my love?"

"I… I just… missed you."

Oh… Kris frowns slightly. "I'm so sorry–"

"No! No, I don't need–don't want you to apologize." Laurent leans his head against Kris's chest. "I missed you, but I'm happy now. That we can have this."

Laurent huffs lightly before continuing. "I could never be truly mad at you, anyway. Not forever. Everything you went through… I can't say I wouldn't have done the same. I'd do nearly anything to protect you, Eir. Even now. Especially now."

Kris sighs and gives Laurent a light squeeze. "You've sacrificed enough for me, Reyna."

"They weren't sacrifices. Not if they meant waking up next to you."

"You're quite the romantic when you're drunk, aren't you?"

"I'm not drunk–"

"Oh? Should I put you down so you can walk the rest of the way?" Kris smiles down at Laurent, who crosses his arms in a huff, not responding. Undeniably romantic… and adorable. Alcohol always shows people who you really are… 

After a moment, Kris gently kisses Laurent's forehead. "Thank you, Reyna, for everything. You… you mean the world to me." He gives a warm smile before looking up "

"Now then… I do need you to walk a bit. I may be strong, but I can't carry you up the inn's stairs."

Laurent chuckles, a playful look crossing his features. "Oh, of course, can't use all of your energy before we… relax, right?"

…He won't stop with this, will he…

***

Kris opens his eyes when he hears a slight groan at his side. With a soft laugh, he turns and wraps Laurent in his arms. "Good morning, my love. How are you feeling?"

Laurent is silent for a moment before responding in a miserable tone. "I'm dizzy. I suppose I've felt worse, though."

"Well, you did drink a lot of sake, Reyna. I'd be more concerned if you woke up feeling fine."

"Mm." Laurent is still for a moment, then starts fidgeting under the blanket. "...Where are my clothes?"

"Ah, you… you very much wanted to take them off last night. Said you were hot. Or I made you hot. Something like that."

"That sounds like something you'd say, Eir."

"Do I really sound like that?" Laurent didn't respond, which spoke volumes. Maybe I should tone it down… "W-well, you're the one missing your clothes, Reyna. But, should you like to retrieve them from around the room, I can fetch something to make you feel–"

"Wait." Laurent grabs one of Kris's hands before he leaves the bed. "...Can we just… stay like this for a few moments longer?"

Kris smiles and settles back into bed. "Of course, my love. Anything for you."