#San said were potatoes

[kpantydrop]

Anyone else mildly annoyed that San stans aren't called Princesses or Potatoes?? Like what is the lore behind pudding? I wanna be a potato dammit

[thisthatpinkvenom]

IT'S SWEATPANTS SEASON, OH MY!

JOCK!SAN / BAND GEEK!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: Autumn has arrived; the season of pumpkin spice lattes, corn and—unfortunately for you—grey sweatpants. those pesky little things have attached themselves to your boyfriend's legs like glue, and you're having a hard time keeping your mind out of the gutter.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, fluff, humor(??), smut, smut, smut

⤏ Content: jock!San, band geek!fem reader (I know, I'm so original), you're referred to as "sweet potato" once—don't ask, just go with it, established relationship!au, college!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): dry humping, unprotected piv (it's fiction, guysss. use your rubbers and stay safe!), creampie, just lots of build up because I'm down bad for a man in grey sweatpants 🙈

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

The mosaic of orange and yellow was striking below the dull blue clouds as the trees continued to shed their leaves. Your eyes swayed with the leaf you'd been watching descend its way patiently to the ground while you sat on the bench, shoulders jittering in the midst of the decreasing temperature. Your hands peeked out from the ends of your sleeves before rubbing together, the crisp morning air making your fingers tingle in the cold. You should've worn a thicker jacket, is what you mulled over in your head that you hadn't even noticed San until he enveloped his own padded jacket over you. The gust of warmth awoke you from your reverie and you hummed, meeting eyes with him when he lowered himself into a squat.

"You didn't have to come here," he said, a dimple indenting his cheek as he curled one corner of his mouth upward. After pulling the hood over your head, he tenderly brushed his thumb across your cheek. "I know you're not a morning person."

You struggled to fight a yawn until you decidedly gave in, white fog manifesting in your breath.

"I want to support you," you murmured. You were too busy blinking away your fatigue to notice how he looked on in nothing but fondness. Your conscience warped your thoughts when you scanned over the jacket engulfing your frame, your lips forming into a small pout. "Mm…aren't you going to be cold?"

San took a glance at his attire; he's only got a windbreaker left to keep him warm. Nonetheless, he shook his head and insisted he was used to practicing like this on the field. Despite wearing less than you and the flushed red on his nose and cheeks, you couldn't really tell if he felt the effect of the weather as much as you did. You couldn't fathom how he had the motivation to get up at the ass crack of dawn to run around with a ball, doing drills with his teammates while Coach Kim rapid-fired pointer after pointer without a stop to catch his breath. It truly was admirable how smiley he was at 7:00 a.m. without consuming any caffeine.

Coach Kim sauntered along the grass before he blew his whistle and commanded the team to group together. Your boyfriend looked over his shoulder before turning back to you, eyes squinting as the sun's orange glow began to blanket over the field.

"Well, gotta start soon," he observed. "Stay warm and if you're sleepy, just go back. I'm happy you're here but don't force yourself to stay. All right, Sweet Potato?"

You made a small noise of confirmation, unfazed by the odd affectionate nickname you had gotten used to over time. The heat of his palms skimmed over your ears as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead before standing tall. But what you didn't anticipate—whoa—had really slapped you awake right then and there. For the mere five seconds you'd managed to capture a mental image, time felt as if it'd been stretched to hell when your boyfriend's crotch had leveled with your eyes. You hadn't realized the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and now that you've gotten a face full of…that, you're acutely aware.

You're shook to the core.

Your gaze trailed after his jogging figure, following the path up his long and toned legs to his cute little bu—okay, whoa! It's only 7:15 in the morning. You had no business indulging in these thoughts right now. Get it together.

Oh, he's facing your general direction now.

Are you staring at it too much? It's starting to feel a little warm, all of a sudden; it's the jacket, isn't it? Just how long is this going to take?

You're trapped on this bench. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since practice started and Coach Kim was rambling on about the importance of warming up while you're glued to your seat, pathetically staring at your boyfriend's dickprint while he seemingly had no idea. God, you felt like a perv. Even though he assured you that it was okay, you didn't want to just up and leave. This was a relationship built on give and take, and there were one too many times when he watched your concerts while knowing little to nothing about orchestral music.

You'll just suffer, then.

"Just fuck him."

"Lisa!" you chided, pushing three fingers against your friend's arm as she rolled her eyes.

"What?" She swirled her tongue around the glob of chocolate ice cream sitting on top of her waffle cone. "He's a hot, charming guy. Your own boyfriend makes you horny and that's supposed to be a problem now?"

"Oh, my gosh, I just…" you trailed off, eyes searching elsewhere for your thoughts. "I'm not used to being all"—you waved your hands disorientedly in front of you—"dirty…minded. He's the one who usually initiates it."

"Sex?"

"Everything physical, really," you clarified. "I just feel like if I start it, it's just going to be off—and awkward."

You sighed. "How am I going to get through this season?"

"Oh, yeah, the sweatpants; that's what's been making you a sex freak," Lisa recalled with an airy laugh. "Those things are like lingerie for guys. Especially the grey ones…oomf. 'Dicktoria's Secret' is real," she snorted.

You gave her a blank stare.

"Look, just be honest," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world—which it was. "You really think any guy is gonna find it offensive that his girl's drooling over his bulge?"

"I wasn't drooling—"

"You will be."

"Oh, my gosh."

You weren't aware that having a footballer-boyfriend automatically signed you up for three months' worth of almost nothing but sweatpants. You also didn't know how many he had stashed in his wardrobe until now—it's good to know he didn't wear the same pair everyday. But this meant he had enough pairs to flaunt his dick outline in your face whenever you were together.

Not good for your cavewoman brain.

Fingers danced along your neck and you squirmed at the intrusion, meeting eyes with San's own with your face sporting a frown. The same fingers belonged to the arm lazing comfortably around your shoulders, both of you having snuggled together into mush on his couch while you binge-watched one of your favorite shows. You whined his name in annoyance when you're kicked out of your thoughts.

He chortled. "Sorry, I just—it's Buffy and you don't even seem that into it. Is everything okay?"

Let's see: it's a Friday night. His roommate, Mingi went to visit his parents for the weekend and you're all alone with your hot, charming boyfriend™ who's clearly gone commando under his sweats. And you're supposed to be watching Buffy slay vampires…how?

"Y-Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" you stammered.

He hummed in feigned ponder, and the knowing smirk surging its way onto his lips would've sent a churn in your belly if you'd actually caught sight of it.

"You know that my eyes are up here, right?"

Your eyes snapped up in panic, and silence was the only response you had sitting on your tongue. You wanted to hide in a cave, where you could wallow in embarrassment without disturbance. Your own boyfriend had just caught you ogling his crotch like a perv.

San tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing a smile at how you resembled a deer in headlights. "You thought I wouldn't notice?"

Your mouth was stuck in a battle between opening and closing as you desperately searched for the right words. With a defeated sigh, your face fell into the safety of your palms.

"This is so embarrassing," you groaned, words muffled against your hands.

"Hey," he laughed softly, grabbing your wrists in an attempt to retract your hands away from your face. "It's not a big deal"—you sighed when the light from the standing lamp washed into your eyes—"it's cute."

You gave him a funny look. "Cute," you stated, doubt laced in your tone.

"Yeah. Usually, I'm the one doing all the staring."

He scanned you up and down with a pondering pout on his lips, continuing on to ask, "It's the sweatpants, isn't it?"

"Do you have to state the obvious?" you whined.

"What? I just wanna make things clear, so I know what to wear for you," he teased. He shifted closer and smoothed a hand up your thigh. "I'll wear more for you."

If he felt the goosebumps on your skin, he didn't comment on them.

"You say it like it's lingerie," you quipped, recalling what Lisa said a few days ago. You're saying anything to distract yourself right now, but you crumbled easily whenever he touched you. And he knew it well, especially when his hand moved dangerously close to your pyjama shorts. You're not even sure if you were breathing.

"If it's gotten you like this, then I'd say it pretty much is."

He moved on to say, "I like it when you look at me like that."

Your expression was frozen. "Like what?"

San's eyes changed ever so slightly, his hand finally slipping between your squeezed thighs.

"Like you really want me."

Your thighs parted for him. "I…I do," you murmured.

"Oh, really? Where do you want me?"

"Where else?"

"I asked you first."

You made a quiet huff from your nose, looking down at his hand that's aching to pull your shorts down. "Inside"—you hesitated—"inside me. I-I would like it if we had sex…please?"

His lustful gaze turned softer, eyebrows raised high at your interesting way of words. While you, on the other hand, visibly grimaced. San found your eyes shutting tight and your nose scrunching up all too adorable, and without a doubt, he would've bitten your cheeks if he could.

With a chuffed smile, he hooked his fingers at the waistbands of your shorts and underwear, waiting for you to lift your hips. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's have the sex now."

You sulked at his incessant teasing, knowing well enough that he was purposefully expressing his words awkwardly. He laughed and assured you he would stop there, before grabbing your now half-naked body by the hips and having you straddle him. His fleece sweatpants were rough from the continuous use, giving you some nice sense of friction on your sensitive nub.

But above all that, you could feel the presence of his cock hiding beneath his pants, your pussy lips spreading the slightest on his erection. Your breath hitched as his hands made their way under your sweater, then your shirt; reposed comfortably at your hips as if they made home there. The pads of his fingers kneaded your skin as he looked up at you with expectant eyes.

"C'mon, get yourself off for me."

You waited with bated breath for nothing in particular—you'd just been momentarily distracted by his intense stare. Nodding too many times in the span of a second, you began to move your hips under the guide of his hands.

"Oh…"

There was a minor ache in your hips when he dug his fingers deeper in your skin, but you were too focused on the soft chafing of the fabric against your clit. It was getting you in the right place; so rough.

"Are you doing okay, Baby?"

You released an unstable sigh. "Y-Yeah."

He eyed the way your skin slightly folded with every move you made on his clothed cock, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. Your motions grew faster and more impatient as you yearned for his mouth against yours, falling forward before your lips touched his.

He pushed you down each time he pulled you forward, earning growingly unsteady breaths from you into his mouth. You nearly choked when he bucked his hips upward, soft moans having no chance to escape when each were engulfed by his lips. You continued to do nothing but mindlessly grind your clit on him, humping his clothed cock like you were in desperate heat.

You didn't have the mind to warn him at this moment, unable to hear anything but your own moans until you were reaching your impending climax. And soon with trembling thighs, you came. Your skin grew rampant with shivers while your mind went elsewhere for the bite of a second.

San finally spared some mercy, separating from you with a thin string of spit connecting your lips before he's splitting it with a lick from his tongue. Stealing a glance at the dark spot you left on his pants, he served you a lustful, lopsided smile.

"This is what you'll get if you're just a little more honest with me," he chuckled.

Your ears grew hot at the sight of your arousal leaving its mark, adjusting yourself with your hands on the backrest behind him. You waited a few beats to gather your words before you muttered, "Well…can I be honest with you right now?"

"Of course."

San waited with patient eyes, his stare nearly melting you into goo while he thumbed your skin again.

"I'd like to have the sex—with your penis inside me…please."

He didn't try at all to suppress amusement at how you'd poked fun at yourself, hearty laughter producing from the pit of his belly. The dimples in his cheeks emerged from hiding as he grinned and nodded while pushing his waistband down, just enough for his cock to free itself. When his laughter had settled, he pressed a peck on the tip of your nose.

"Whenever you're ready."

You grabbed the base of his cock and pressed the tip against your entrance, pausing for a moment until you began to slowly but surely, sink entirely down his length. The stretch always started as an odd pressure between your walls, but once they'd completely swallowed his dick whole, it always left you wanting more. It's a feeling you don't think you could ever give justice to, if you were ever asked to describe it. He was just so right for you.

Your body gave into him as he pulled you flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist like a tightened belt. His hushed groans were made only for you, and hearing them continuously by your ear sent shivers down your spine.

"So warm," he muttered under his breath. He slid his bum further down the couch with you in his grasp and spread his legs wider. And when he was sure of the angle, he rolled his hips to meet yours, finding a steady pace with the most agonizingly unyielding thrusts. With every slam of his hips, your moans rendered into off-key whimpers as you melted under his guidance.

It felt like you were experiencing the hottest temperatures of the summer; your cheeks were burning and at moments, you felt like pushing away just from the sheer heat of your bodies entangled together.

A cuss left your boyfriend's lips when you gnawed on his shoulder, the salty tang of sweat grazing your tongue. And as if he wasn't holding onto you tightly already, he pulled you even closer as his cock rammed relentlessly, his rhythm growing sloppy when he began reaching his peak.

Your back felt like it'd been bent beyond repair as his cum coated your walls, the familiar twitching of his cock presented inside you. But he didn't stop there, he wouldn't until you came as well. And with his jaw clenched, he fucked into you like you were his toy, white rings of his own orgasm spilling with every move and making way to stain his pants.

"C'mon, Baby," he grunted. "Cum, f-fuck—cum, fucking c-cum…"

And in a few more thrusts, all you saw were specks of white among darkness. Your pussy spared no consideration on his sensitive cock and clenched as you trembled, the string of swears leaving his lips going deaf on your ears. Your limbs fell limp to pure exhaustion, despite how much you wanted to just wrap them around him like you were a koala and he was the tree. You wanted to mark your kisses all over his face but not even your lips were functioning right now as you barely managed to muster out a "thank you".

It was clear that it took a moment for San to register what you'd said, before he let out a breathy laugh. Not because he found something funny, it was just one of those laughs you got when you felt so euphoric—like getting your balls drained until you were a moaning mess; that kind of euphoric.

He kissed the top of your head, looking ahead at the TV where Buffy was still slaying vampires as usual. His dick stayed inside you, soft and relaxed in your warmth, neither of you in any rush to clean up.

"Mm…remind me to buy more of these sweats."

[sweetbunpura]

After stepping out of Nevemela

Rook: It was wonderful to see Roi du Neige again

Epel: That dorm was too much for me

Vil: Unfortunately Potato wasn’t there

Round 7! We're almost there!

Start - Daydreamers (Ch. 2) - Junglehearts (Ch.3) - Aqualetta (Ch. 4) - Potential (Ch.5) - Nevemela (Ch.6)

Nimbus

Rollo could feel his patience started to end and he had to take a few deep breaths as he closed his eyes. A hand patted his shoulder as whoever it was attempted to reassure him.

"She's either in Nimbus or Verasavi, Roi du Mouchair."

Rollo tampered down his grumble and opened his eyes. "I hope so..."

"She's not there?" Ortho asks as he approaches the group.

"Sadly, no." Epel responded. "Neige said she was in Nimbus."

"Nimbus?" Idia muttered from his spot on the ground. "With those 'Teamwork makes the dreamwork' guys? Pass."

Vil walked over and nearly pulled Idia up. "Do you want Yam to go wild? He's nearing his limit."

Idia glanced over at Rollo, who had the nastiest glare as he hid his face behind his handkerchief. The tech savvy student jumps and manages to wiggle himself out of Vil's grip.

"Ortho, C'mon! Let's go get Yuu-rin before Rollo-shi sets everything on fire."

"Coming!" Ortho grabs Rollo's hand as he joins his brother.

They went through the portal with a cloud and a lighting blot etched into the emblem. Rollo nearly stumbled out of entrance as the footing beneath him became soft and cloud like. Ortho moved to help him while Idia sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Welcome to Nimbus, Rollo-shi..."

He looked up, eyes wide as he spotted nothing but clouds in front of him with the Nimbus dorm members floating in the air.

"Is this all-"

"Anti-gravity magic." Idia floated off with Ortho navigating Rollo along. "They're on clouds, so you need to be lighter than it or you go right through."

"Do you know who we're looking for?' He asked as he eventually got used to the floatiness.

"Yeah."

The older shroud brother's answers are short as they near the courtyard. There's a commotion as people are gathered around a basketball goal. Idia tries to move them past it as a name that causes him to flinch sounds out from the crowd.

"And Lute scores the final goal, winning the game!"

A student shouted and flew above the court on a pair of pale golden wings. His blond hair was tied back as the sun shone off his bronze skin.

"Beastman?" Rollo muttered to Idia.

"Fae." He responded. "That's just his Unique Magic on display like the showoff that he is."

While the others cheering for him below, his vibrant orange eyes shifted over to the NRC group and he flew over to meet them. Rollo mentally prepared himself for whatever wackiness this RSA student will have.

"You." His voice was smooth as he pointed to Rollo. "You're on Athena's phone, so you must be her boyfriend."

"Athena?" The group voiced as they fixed Lute with a set of confused stares.

"Oh, the nickname." He landed and his wings folded at his sides." Uh, Yuu! You're Yuu's boyfriend." He snapped his fingers. "Rollo, right?"

Rollo blinked in bewilderment. "Y-You know my name?"

"Yeah, totally! Once Grooves got her phone unlocked, we all saw you were on her home and lock screen and we got a little nosy." His eyes shifted to Ortho and Idia. "Shroud! Are you out here in public, with no tablet?"

"Hahahaha." Idia glared and huffed. "Aren't we funny, Lute-shi?"

Lute raised his hands up. "I don't mean anything by it. We've only ever seen the tablet or Little Ortho here."

"Hello, Lute Heights-san!" Ortho smiled. "Since you're here, have you seen where Yuu Homura-san is?"

Lute's face fell as did his wings. "I hate to say it, but I got pulled away sometime after Grooves helped her. So I don't know if she's still in the dorm or nah."

"She's not."

A new voice being heard had them all turning their heads to see someone hopping towards them. They halted at Lute's side and pulled the pair of vintage aviator goggles off their face. He looked exactly like Lute apart from the vibrant green eyes. He held out his hand to Rollo, who shook it.

"Grooves Heights, Dorm leader of Nimbus." He patted Lute on the shoulder. "Twin brother, vice dorm leader."

"I don't get a intro with my name included?" Lute nudges his brother.

"Nah." Grooves nudged him back.

"Forgive me for trying to...move things along, but did you say she wasn't here?" Rollo asked before the brothers could start anything.

"Sorry, Rollo, but yeah." Grooves rubs the back of his head. "You should be getting a text from her soon."

Right on cue, Rollo's phone chimed and he fished it our of his pocket.

Yuu: ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH, I CAN FINALLY TEXT YOU! Rolls, you doing okay? Nothing on fire?

Rollo had never typed so fast in his life.

Rollo: I'm fine, but I've been on a wild goose chase in an attempt to retrieve you from this school. As for the fire.... I am very close to setting everything ablaze.

Yuu: Yikes. Well, I'm over in Verasavi. I don't even to know where to begin what I've been through.

Rollo: We're on our way. Please do not move.

Yuu: I'll try not to.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he addressed the others. "She's in Verasavi."

Grooves grimaced a little. "Yeah, no, that makes sense. Phara probably wanted to give her the royal treatment."

"...Is he bad?"

"No, no, wouldn't hurt a fly...most of the time." He waves his hand. "He's just a little...." He looked towards his brother for help.

"He's extra. If you're ever seen any of those old fashion movies with the knight/hero, then that's how he acts."

"A knight in shining armor?" Idia raised an eyebrow. "Yuu-rin doesn't need protection, she's her own knight. Sorry, Rollo-shi."

"It's fine." He responds. "Although I wonder what he would be trying to protect her from..."

"NRC." The twins answered.

"So something the entire school has issues with?" Rollo crossed his arms. "Is this apart of the rivalry I've heard so much about?"

"Yeah." Lute nodded his head. "Others have issues. Not us tho."

"Yep! I love O-man too much to ever hate him!" Grooves wrapped an arm around Ortho's shoulder. "He's been kicking my ass lately at the card games."

"Get a better deck." Ortho teased.

Grooves fake gasped. "How dare!"

Idia interrupted. "We need to get going.... Malleus-shi needs to know where he's about to head off to."

"....M-dawg is here?" Grooves paled. "Oh Phara is gonna have a field day."

"Do you want us to escort you out?" Lute asked.

"Nah, we got it from here." Idia moved towards the entrance without another word."

"Good bye, Heights brothers!" Ortho waved as he followed Idia.

"I'll admit... I wasn't expecting this level of friendliness." Rollo adjusted them. "I've only heard mostly bad things."

"Our time in this world is short-"

"Not with us though."

"Lute." Grooves rolled his eyes. "Anyway. Our time in this world is short and I'm not gonna spend it trying to drag down others. We need some positivity in our lives."

"I see.... thank you both for your time." With that, Rollo joined the waiting Shroud brothers.

[gamergirl-niffler]

A Bitter-sweet Birthday || Kyojuro x reader

Happy Birthday to my one and only Flame Hashira - Kyojuro! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

I miss the series, but mostly I miss him. Since it's his birthday, I decided to write something short.

Tags: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @arthurbristow

ENJOY:

The day was sunny and calm with no clouds in the beautiful blue sky.

You woke up early and immediately started to get ready in the quiet privacy of your own room. The day was very important since it was your beloved's birthday today, and you were beaming with excitement and happiness.

The kimono you decided to wear was simple yet pretty. It was plain white fabric with a fiery pattern at the edges, and with fitting red obi and golden obijime. You looked like the real Rengoku, just without flame-like hair.

You were working on pinning your hair up when your door slid open. 

Senjuro looked inside and smiled, seeing you in front of the little vanity table. "You are up early. I should have expected that you would be excited to celebrate. Do you need help?" He asked with his soft voice.

You nodded your head. "Yes, please. You are much better at this."

Boy laughed and soon joined you, easily pining your hair up in a simple hairstyle that suited the occasion.

"Oh! Can you put it in?” You asked, handing him a gold hairpin.

Senjuro nodded and fulfilled your request. "My brother did his best picking this for you."

"Yes, I know. Best gift ever," you chuckled and looked into the mirror, admiring Senjuro's work. "Thank you so much."

"No problem. Will you help me a little too? I need some help with cooking,” he asked, and you of course nodded before getting up and following him to the kitchen.

There, you pulled your sleeves up and helped him with preparing miso soup with sweet potatoes and some simple sweets. After all it was a day to celebrate, and what celebration would it be without real sweets!

"You think we have everything?” you asked.

Senjuro shook his head. "I couldn't buy the last thing from our list," he said, looking down.

You just gave him a small smile and ruffled his hair. "No need to worry, we can buy it on our way to him.”

"There will be no need for that. Here.” It was no one else but Shinjuro. 

At first his sudden, loud voice made you stiff, but then you realized he was handing you a box with the last thing from the list. Blinking, you looked up at him, not hiding your confusion.

"Just take those to him. I bought them this morning after seeing them on Senjuro's list. I figured out you will need these," man explained.

You smiled widely and bowed. "Thank you so much, Shinjuro-san. We indeed needed those."

"Thank you, father, he will be happy to receive these," Senjuro added with a kind smile.

Shinjuro looked at both of you as if he wanted to add something, but he decided to stay quiet instead. He just turned away and left.

The two of you returned to cooking and chatting, sharing some giggles while doing so.

------------------------------------------

When the food was ready, Senjuro packed it up, you collected other stuff you planned to take, and you both set off on the road.

It wasn't a long trip but going with a friend was an amazing feeling. 

The closer you got, the more excited you became. You couldn't wait to celebrate Kyojuro's birthday.

The burial ground seemed quiet and calm, as if it was frozen in time together with everyone else, buried deep in its grounds. 

All you could hear were birds singing softly, their songs carried by a quiet whisper of the wind that sneaked around the crowns of trees and soft splash of a river nearby. The sun's gentle warmth enveloped the serene atmosphere, casting a comforting glow on the world.

"Aniki," Senjuro said happily and ran up to one of the graves, setting everything down next to it. 

You quickly followed him and smiled looking at the grave. "Good to see you again, love."

After the quick greeting, you and Senjuro got to work, cleaning the grave. You made sure to visit Kyojuro regularly so there was a small amount of cleaning needed.

In the end, you pulled out the box that Shinjuro gave you and pulled out incense sticks. You lit them up and placed them on the grave.

You and Senjuro clasped your hands together, preparing for the prayer ahead with a sense of unity and reverence.

Senjuro finished first, and started putting down a little blanket. You joined him shortly after, and helped him with setting everything up.

"Aniki. Everything's good at home, father has stopped drinking, and things are much calmer there now. He even accepted Y/N around," Senjuro said, even if his words were greeted by nothing but silence. 

"That's true, but I still try to do my best to stay out of his way. Today he bought us incense sticks for you, love," you smiled softly.

Senjuro nodded and picked up his little bowl of soup. "Happy birthday, aniki. I wish you were still here. I miss having you around.”

You smiled sadly, doing the same as he did. "Happy birthday, my love. I miss you dearly." 

The rest of the celebration went calmly. 

You talked and joked with Kyojuro, telling him everything that happened since the last visit.

If you only knew he was there indeed, sitting next to his own grave, listening to both of you and feeling happy, hoping the warm sun rays would convey how glad he was to celebrate his birthday with his little brother and the love of his life.

[elvestoneanzelote1]

Hello Good morning/evening/night! I just stumble across your blog and i love your work •v•

Just wondering have you ever though of platonic yandere bsd with Male child reader who have Makima or even Nayuta personality and ability of controling people because that would be interesting

A:n- ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇɢᴀʀᴅɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs I ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ.. Bᴜᴛ I ᴡɪʟʟ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀssᴜᴍᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, sᴏʀʀʏ ɪғ ɪᴛ ɪsɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴋɪɴɢ sɪɴᴄᴇ I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴏғᴛᴇɴ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ.

Nᴏʀ ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

Y/n- your name

Warning: protective, mention of mori.

Y/n is from the agency.

.

If one where to describe y/n, they would describe him as the most adorable child from the agency.

You were just 10-12 years old, with a charming innocent smile that melts every agency heart, heck even Kyouka heart as she view you as a younger brother.

Which lead to the question of the suspicion of your ability. The main reason why you are in the agency.

At first Dazai was curious of why a child in the agency maybe, someone brother? He assume but later on he caught up that your ability to control someone movements like a puppet is truly magnificent and dangerous.

He was reminded of Yumeno, the child at the mafia who can mind control others who have hurt him but yours were worse in a way as an unknown force seems to work for your part as it is known as force manipulation.

(I'm not that sure how Makima ability is since I didn't watch Chainsaw man and Some of her ability won't be mention as it is just going to brief one).

The more Dazai pry the more he realise the kid was not an angel but also a very demanding personality.

He realise that the flaw of you that every members on the agency sighed about leading Ranpo and you having childish tanthrums though Ranpo never won as you seems to cry out when he refuse to give you sweets.

"Can't you give me the choco-balls sweets?" You cried as Ranpo gaze away.

"No!"

"Wahhh! Ranpo-san is bad!!!" You cried and run away leaving a guilty Ranpo who later comes to you and handed you the sweets making you hug him happily.

"Ranpo-san is the best"

"Of course I'm! Don't ever forget that" he said proudly as you hug him while chuckling happily. Such a cute child you are.

The worst for Dazai was you love dogs, oh the audacity of you bringing a puppy into the agency hiddenly and it almost bite him!.

"Kunikida-kun! Who brought this monstrous thing!" Shouted Dazai escaping the puppy who seems to want to bite Dazai hand that was wrapped in bandage.

"Mo! Dazai-san" you pouted while holding your puppy who was waving its tail happily making Dazai pout.

"Not fair! You should like cats! Cats are the most adorable thing!"

"So? I like dogs they are cute!"

"So are cat!"

"They are loyal and tamable!"

"Ahhh! Take it away!" Scream Dazai while running away as you hold up your puppy tuning after him to pet it.

It was Fun to watch for Kunikida who first time enjoy Dazai misery

Maybe he will let the puppy come time to time to distract/punish the lazy potato from not doing work.

Well, regardless you were just a child with sweet personality but also a demanding, stubborn personality too.

But the whole agency knows that they would rather hide your ability rather than making the other organisation to target you.

Regardless that even president is like your grandfather or sort whom you cling onto on rare times to get sweets.

Most likely you annoy Ranpo to share his sweets, which leads the chaotic arguments.

But fortunately, Naomi brought two same flavour sweets so that you both won't argue about different sweet flavour which you haven't tasted is eaten by the other or sort.

You do have parents who left you astray but.. They did came to take you one time as you were taken a back.

The elders of the agency said they will speak with them as Naomi, Sakura, Kyouka, Kenji, Jun'churo and Atsushi took you away to play or sort as the others talk with your biological parents.

Well, let's just say you are just a kid, when you hear your parents left without telling you, you refuse to show how heartbroken you were as the agency members try to cheer you up which they succeeded.

You only hope your parents will come back to take you home, since.. Agency is good but you are not a detective and precisely your just 10-12 year old child who misses their parents warmed.

But that is only a hopeful thought as you are unaware that your.. Parents will never visit you ever again.

After all you belong to agency who can protect you, right?

"Don't worry, Y/n-kun we can go to the aquarium alright!" Said Atsushi as he notice your frown which turn to a childish smile.

"Really?"

"Yep!"

"Will the others come too?"

"Hmm? Why not ask them, shall we?" Said Atsushi who was the one succeeding on making you gleam happily.

The agency happily agreed to go.

Let's just say the port mafia were there to and Mori was confused and curious of Why Fukuzawa have a boy with him and why the whole crew of the agency in the aquarium?

Well, he was confused when Elise was the one approach you when you got lost around the aquarium as he approach you both.

"Elise-chan! I told you not to leave my hand!"

"But Rintarou! He is lost!" Said Elise who hold your hand as you were sniffling as Mori approach you.

"Say, aren't you the boy from the agency?"

"You.. Know them?"

"Yes, Do you want to come with us while.. We search of the agency member?"/

"Really?"

"Yes really" said Mori as Elise smile to reassure you and drag you with her as Mori just tag along.

Let's just say the agency were in panic in search of you.

And Ranpo was the one who use his glasses to find out where you were last been. But they found no one making the chaotic drama in the aquarium by the agency asking about your whereabouts to the people.

In suspicion that they might have kidnapped you or sort.

After all, your the most adorable kid, aren't you?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A:n- that's all good day/night to you all! I hope you have a great day ahead.

[kayr0ss]

Phishing Attack [Sulemio Fanfic]

[Gundam: The Witch from Mercury / GWitch, Sulemio, Fluff & Humor, post-canon, married, miorine is down bad, lmfao, self-inudlgent office shenanigans] AO3 Link

Summary: Unfortunately for her, Miorine falls for the IT department's phishing attack test email and has to go through GUND-ARM, Inc's mandatory security training. Fortunately for her, it seems her wife, of all people, was the one teaching it.

-

"Uhm—"

This poor kid. Miorine was going to have a talk with Nuno about this, because there was absolutely no reason for him to send the newest tech support hire to her office for something he could have emailed her about. She wonders if he and Ojelo placed a bet on whether or not he would do it. That wouldn't do. She'd have to give them an earful after all this.

Or, even better, she'd tell Lilique. No one liked to get on Lilique's bad side.

"Is everything okay?" She crossed her arms, trying to school her expression into something... nicer? It didn't look like it was working, because he visibly gulped.

"P—President! I'm here because you—uh. Email."

"Email?"

He looked down towards his feet, his voice barely over a whisper. "...test email that IT had sent out."

Miorine pinched the bridge of her nose, doing her best to even out her breathing. "Hey. It's okay, I don't bite. I can barely hear you."

"You clicked on a phishing test email! That—that IT sent out. Kargan-san told me, to tell you, that you have to attend mandatory training or else your email access was going to get revoked."

She frowned, eyes flitting to her laptop, unable to keep an incredulous huff at bay. Phishing email? She was usually really careful about this, when did she even—she paused.

She remembers now. Last night, while working late from home, she received an email from what she thought was a travel agency. She had been looking into booking a vacation for their family, and wanted to sign up for their newsletter and so she—oh. She clicked a link.

She sighed, deep and weary, leaning forward on her desk. "Thank you," she waved at the young man. "I'll go talk to Nuno."

He sighed in relief, said his greetings, and left.

-

"He looked terrified! Why would you do that?" She growled across the lunch table towards Nuno, who was holding up his tray in defense. "You could have told me yourself!"

"But how was he supposed to learn? Besides, it's a good time to work on rapport-building, for you!"

"That doesn’t make any sense." She slammed down her coffee mug, visibly irritated. "And also totally targeted. You knew that I was planning a vacation for us."

"What, did you think phishing attacks were just randomly cast nets? These things have gotten more sophisticated! Especially for C-suite individuals like you. Do you know what kind of cybersecurity liability it would have been if your email got compromised?"

"I know that!" Miorine groaned in frustration. "Fine, I'll do the training. But really? Revoking my email access?"

"Hey—you signed off on the ops manual yourself!"

"You have to set an example for following the rules, Miorine-san." Aliya laughed.

And she was right. And Miorine hated it. But she always resented authority who didn't play fair, so she was going to do her best to set a good example. She went back to eating, stabbing at her potato wedges with unnecessary force, making Nuno and Ojelo grimace with each stab.

"By the way," he elbowed Ojelo, who was dejectedly playing with his salad. "You owe me. I told you she'd fall for it."

"You two are impossible!"

-

"There's no way they got you too." Miorine deadpanned, looking at the only other person seated in the conference room. It had several long tables, arranged in a U-configuration, and had high-backed leather office chairs that rolled themselves back to place when you clapped. She thought it was a bit much, but... Nika liked over-engineering things, so here they were.

Nika smiled sheepishly. "They sent me an email for a parts sale. I clicked the link without thinking too much."

"A sale?" Miorine almost laughed. "Nika, your department has the highest budget."

"No, not for work—it was uhm. For mobile suit figures?" She twiddled her thumbs. "The little models I like to build?"

Miorine couldn't even be upset. She actually laughed this time (“They were full mechanics! I couldn’t resist!”). Everyone had their weaknesses, it seemed.

"So this is the training video we made for all the new hires, and whoever else needs it." Ojelo was setting the screen up. "It's about an hour long—"

"An hour?" Miorine slammed her palms on the desk.

"Yes, an hour!" He barked back, crossing his arms. "Obviously, since you two are here—our literal president and the person who designs all our prototypes—we need it! I can hardly think of two worse people to fail this test."

Miorine sighed, covering her face with her hands, because he was right.

"Let's just get this over and done with."

The holo-screen flickered to life, Ojelo waved them goodbye, and then Miorine's jaw dropped because—

[Hello there, GUND-ARM, Inc.!]

She knew that voice. It was only the title screen, without showing the speaker, but she knew. 

Then the video feed finally came on, and she swallowed: it was Suletta. She was smiling sweetly at the viewer, wearing a business suit that had GUND-ARM, Inc's pin on the blazer’s lapel. She felt the air rush out her lungs, and jolted upright from her seat.

[Welcome to the first module of Cybersecurity 101! My name is Suletta Mercury-Rembran, and I—]

Miorine felt her mouth dry up because why?

She whipped her head towards Nika. "Why is my wife teaching the cybersecurity training?!"

She briefly remembers Suletta mentioning something about getting filmed for a GUND-ARM, Inc. video. It was quite a while ago, and Miorine figured it was just another marketing campaign, but she didn't realize that it might have also been this.

"I mean," Nika shrugged. "She is a literal teacher. I imagine out of all of us she's the most qualified to conduct a training."

Which. Okay. Fair—it made sense! But still—why?

Miorine ran her hand through her hair, grounding herself. Why did she look so good even on screen? Who's idea was it? Did she want to thank them or throttle them? 

Why on this ridiculous Earth was she so goddamn attractive?

(A rhetorical question, for sure: she knew with absolute certainty that that was simply a truth of this world.)

[Let's start with the basics: What exactly is a phishing attack?]

-

[14:47 SEST] Nika : It kind of feels like I should leave T_T

[14:47 SEST] Ojelo: lmaooooooooooo

[14:49 SEST] Nika: please let me leave

[14:53 SEST] Nuno: I'm sorry but u are also literally a security risk until u learn this so u can't

[14:54 SEST] Nika: fml

-

It was almost impossible to listen, but also impossible to look away. Miorine put an honest effort into taking down notes, into remembering the tell-tale signs of a fake domain name and the most common typing mistakes made in phishing emails. They even had little quizzes in between that they had to take on their phone before moving onto the next section. Apparently, failing those meant having to take the training again and... and, well, that was both pleasant and terribly embarrassing.

At the halfway point, Miorine had crossed her arms, flushed deeply, and sighed.

"You okay, Miorine-san?" Nika poked her on the shoulder.

Suletta had just flashed another charming smile on screen, congratulating the viewer for finishing this section.

"She's so—" Miorine slowly tipped over, leaning forward, and planted her face on the table, muttering. "—pretty."

-

[Don't forget! Urgent language and unsecured links are really good tells! Are you feeling ready for your next test? Once again, please check your company phone's training app, and—]

Miorine pulled out her phone. She was so ready for this quiz. She had been locked in and could probably recite company policy backwards at this point.

Nika, for the fifteenth time within the past forty-five minutes, tried not to keel over laughing.

-

[Still there?]

Sang Suletta's sweet, whimsical voice.

[Thanks for sticking with it! Good job, we're almost through! You're doing great!]

Miorine had nearly snapped her stylus in half, blushing, but she powered on in the name of professionalism and—spite. For Nuno and Ojelo, of course. Not Suletta.

She checked her watch. They weren't kidding about it taking no less than an hour. She leaned back into her chair, unable to deny the fact that it was nice to take a short break from paperwork and checking spreadsheets all afternoon.

-

She had bolted out the room as soon as the training was done.

"Leaving in a hurry?" Sabina caught her haphazardly stuffing all her things into her leather folio.

"Yes."

It was a Thursday, which meant Suletta didn't have an afternoon class to teach, which meant she was already home by now.

"I'll call for the car, then." She hummed.

"Thank you."

Miorine almost forgot her keys, fishing them out her drawer before grabbing her coat off the back of her chair. It was probably windy, but she was in too much of a hurry to bother putting it on, instead bundling it in her arms with her folio.

-

Suletta was surprised to hear the jingle of Miorine's keys so early in the afternoon. 

She looked up from the book she was reading, happy to see the front door swing open. She carefully got up, a smile on her face.

"Miorine! You're home early—" she stopped in her tracks. "You look mad. Why do you look mad?"

And—in the most confusing three seconds of her life—Miorine had pulled her in by the collar, gotten up to her tip-toes, and kissed her. 

Honest to god kissed her.

"Whoa," she mumbled against Miorine's lips in a daze. She leaned forward a little, settling her free hand on Miorine's waist, bending down so that her wife didn't have to struggle reaching her.

Finally pulling back, Suletta gave her a hesitant smile. "I missed you too?"

"I clicked a stupid phishing email."

What? Suletta blinked, stupefied, wondering what that had to do with the fact that Miorine was shrugging her coat off and kissing her—again.

"An—" she took a breath "—email?"

"Yeah." Miorine pushed them towards the hallway, and Suletta awkwardly stumbled along with her. "How are you so—so—"

"Eh?” Suletta’s brows furrowed. “Me? What do you mean?"

“So…” Miorine had a frown and the prettiest blush Suletta had ever seen. "Beautiful. In the training video."

There was an almost-audible click in Suletta's head. 

She finally put two and two together. 

"Oh!" She gasped. "Oh no, they made you watch the training video?" She laughed. "That must have been funny. I was so embarrassed filming it!"

"I think you did great." Miorine was still pushing her, having kicked off her shoes now.  She fished the book out of Suletta's hand ("Hey!") and placed it on the nearest table. "But I might have already forgotten the whole thing."

Miorine hastily felt for the door knob to their bedroom, swinging it open and pulling Suletta in by her shirt.

"Miorine!"

"You should remind me again."

-

fin

-

A/N:

Thank you to @saltypyrotato for once again beta reading this! You're the best broski! This is basically some self-indulgent office shenanigans that I can't help but imagine would happen lmaoooo

[not-another-leon-blog]

Out Together

DI! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary- Your family spends some rare quality time together. Word Count: 2266 S/n- Son's name D/n- Daughter's name A/N: Part 3 of the Family Matters Series Family Matters / Aftermath

With the kids on suspension from school, Leon had decided that it was the perfect time to spend together. It was rare that all four of you went out to do something together– work tended to prevent it and oftentimes stole him away to far corners of the country or the world. So naturally, he wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.

Of course, he gave them the standard lecture about not fighting in school (though he did praise them for standing up for and protecting each other), but otherwise assured them that they weren’t in too much trouble.

Leon woke up with S/n still curled up against him and your side of the bed empty. S/n had slept through the night between the two of you, and D/n seemed to have slept all night in her room, too. His kids were starting to heal just a little bit and the thought brought him peace. 

The scent of bacon wafted through the house and just moments after Leon smelled it, S/n was pushing himself to sit up. His hair stuck up in all directions and he yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Bacon?” he mumbled as he looked back at his father. 

Leon chuckled and rubbed his boy’s head. “Better go get it before your sister does,” he said. Without another word, S/n jumped out of bed and rushed out of the room. D/n was notorious for eating almost all of the bacon you made. So much so that you started buying two packs just so the rest of the family could have some, too. 

You had just pulled the second pan from the oven when a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist. The twins were already sitting at the table, quietly eating the bacon tacos you’d made for them. Leon gave you a squeeze and pressed a kiss to your temple, uttering a quiet ‘good morning’ against your skin.

Moments like these were his favorite. You in one of his shirts and a pair of your sleep shorts, the twins sitting at the table with messy hair and rumpled pajamas. If he could, he’d live in these moments forever. No bio-weapons, no being called away for work, just him and his family enjoying breakfast together.

You smiled and turned your head to give him a proper kiss before turning to plate the bacon. “Good morning, handsome. There’s eggs and potatoes over there, too.” You gestured to the table. “Go ahead and start eating, I’ve been nibbling while making all this.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” He kissed you again.

“I am, aren’t I?”

The four of you ate in a comfortable silence for the first time in a while. Since returning from San Francisco, tension had settled over the table. At least for the moment, that cloud had dissipated. It made you think that perhaps Leon was right. Getting the twins to be active seemed to be the best way for them to release their stress. You only wished it hadn’t been a school fight to make you realize that.

“Are we still going to the park today?” S/n asked between bites of his taco.

“We are,” Leon replied, “and don’t talk with your mouth full, bud.” He took a napkin and gently wiped crumbs from the corner of S/n’s mouth. “I’ll bring down your glove and we can throw a ball around.”

“Can I bring the soccer ball, too?” quipped D/n.

“Absolutely, baby,” you said. You ran a hand through her hair and gently undid large knots with your fingers. The twins finished eating and put their dishes away, leaving you and Leon alone while they went to get dressed. 

You looked over at Leon. There was a sad, forlorn look in his eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

Leon gave you a sad smile. “When they were born. I promised them I wouldn’t let anything happen to them. Now look at us.” 

You reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. Guilt over what had happened plagued the both of you. In the days following Alcatraz, Leon barely slept. He would get up and triple-check the locks on all the windows and doors. Nearly any creak would have him up and checking the house, especially when D/n had started sleeping in her own bed again.

“And you saved them,” you reminded. “They knew you would. We can’t change the past. But what we can do is give them a good day.” Helping them move on was the best you could do. You couldn’t let them wallow in those memories and drown in nightmares. 

Leon pressed a kiss to the back of your hand and nodded. You had a habit of drawing him out of his darker thoughts, and when you did it made him love you even more. You were right. Your family came home in one piece. Neither of the kids were hurt (physically) and Rebecca had cured you. Your family was intact and that was all that mattered.

The two of you cleaned up the kitchen and went to get dressed. Then it was time to get to packing the car. It wasn’t much, just getting a small cooler filled with water and a few sandwiches while Leon went to hunt down S/n’s baseball bag in the garage.

“S/n, D/n,” he called as he came back inside with both of their gloves. There was an excited twinkle in his eye that you hadn’t seen in a while. The twins came running and he handed them the gloves. “Try them on, see if they still fit.” Leon had once had a dream of getting at least one of them into sports, but there simply wasn’t time. He never wanted to be the parent that didn't make it to practices or games. The twins put the gloves on and flexed their hands, opening and closing them. “Feel okay?”

“Good,” they replied unanimously. “A little stiff.”

“Just need to break them in. We ready to go, Mom?” You smiled at him and nodded. 

~~

This was the kind of life Leon dreamed of having when he was younger. A beautiful wife and two wonderful kids. If he didn’t have a dislike of dogs, he was certain that there would be one running around with you.

The park was almost empty. Being a weekday, the only ones around were the occasional joggers or new parents walking their toddlers in their strollers. The day itself was nearly perfect. Only a few clouds dotted an otherwise clear blue sky.

You watched from under a tree a little bit away on a blanket as Leon tossed baseballs for the twins. It was S/n’s turn to bat and D/n was scrambling to catch the fly balls he hit. Her jeans and shirt already had grass stains from diving after ground balls.

“Dad,” S/n said after he hit another, “I’m hungry.”

“Hey, Hungry, I’m Dad,” Leon replied with a cheeky grin. The twins groaned, resulting in a wider smile from Leon. The three of them made their way back to the tree you sat under. You lifted your camera as they came closer, wanting to preserve the moment. It was an old thing from years ago and though the lens was a little scratched, it still took fantastic pictures. “I didn’t think you still had that.”

You shrugged. The kids plopped themselves down and rummaged through the cooler. “Well, we don’t do stuff like this often. I figured we could use some more pictures together.”

“I wanna sit next to Mom,” S/n said, trying to scoot in between you and Leon.

“I had her first,” Leon wrapped his arms around you, pressing you to his side.

But this didn’t deter S/n. “But I’m her first-born.”

“I’m her husband.” He loosened his hold on you just enough that S/n was able to wiggle in and try to push Leon away from you.

D/n settled herself on your other side, quietly watching her brother and father squabble as she ate her sandwich. She leaned up to your ear and whispered, “Are boys always this dumb?”

“Sometimes,” you replied, wrapping an arm around her. 

“Is that why Daddy makes things explode?”

“No, Daddy tries to be careful about that.” No point in denying that Leon did, in fact, blow things up every now and then. She’d already seen him do it once, at least you could prevent her from worrying about him getting hurt while doing something so dangerous. 

The four of you continued to eat and once the kids had their fill, they were up and chasing after each other. Leon threw the soccer ball between them and it quickly became a game of keep-away.

Leon took to clicking through the pictures you’d taken, a soft smile on his face. “You know, you deserve to be in a few of these, too.” Most of the pictures were of him and the kids, very rarely did he see you in any of them. 

“My mom takes more than enough,” you replied. You made it a habit to take the kids to see their grandparents at least once a month, and your mother could never have enough pictures of you and her grandkids.

“Still, this is a family outing.” He gave you a gentle push, urging you to your feet. “Go, I’ll take a few for you.” 

You groaned playfully and got up. He was right, afterall. The albums you’d put together over the years were filled with him and the kids growing up. In fact, you’d started making them because of how often he was gone; you wanted to keep some kind of record for him to look back on. And being so focused on keeping his memories with the kids, you often forgot about keeping some of your own.

Leon watched you jog out to the kids, laughing as you stole the soccer ball from S/n. You carefully and swiftly moved the ball between your feet. The twins charged at you, but flew past you as you turned to dodge them. 

The twins shared a look and split up, D/n running to get himself behind you and S/n staying in front to distract you. Leon raised the camera, waiting just a few moments before pressing down on the button. He watched through the viewfinder as you tried to keep both of them in your sight. D/n sprinted up behind you, throwing her arms around your waist as S/n swooped in to take the ball from you. 

God, he wished his vacation days would last forever. 

He put the camera away and went to join you. He easily snatched D/n from you, picking her up and lightly tossing her in the air. She squealed with laughter, “That’s cheating, Daddy!”

“And what were you doing just now?” He caught her and tossed her up again. You’d taken off to chase after S/n. The next half hour continued like that: racing after the kids and eventually ending up in a pile in the grass trying to catch your breath.

The sky had gotten darker, gray clouds threatening to rain. “Alright,” Leon said, pushing himself to his feet, “time to go.” He helped you up and S/n followed. D/n continued to lay in the grass, her eyes closed. It was obvious she was only pretending to be asleep but he didn’t care. He scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the car.

“Want me to drive?” you offered once the car was packed and the kids were buckled in. Rain had begun to fall and you knew how it could put him on edge.

“If you don’t mind.” He tossed you the keys. Truth be told, he was exhausted. But in a sense, it was satisfying. For once it was the kids who wore him out, not some bioterrorist trying to shoot him down or zombies chasing after him. It was the sort of tired he’d love to get used to.

By the time you returned home, rain was falling steadily and the twins had officially fallen asleep in the back seat. The two of you decided that everything in the trunk could wait to be taken in later and instead simply carried the twins inside.

You gently set them down on the couch and woke them up. They stretched and yawned, rubbing their eyes. “Go take your showers,” you instructed softly.

“Do we have to?” D/n whined.

As much as you wanted to give in to her, you nodded. “Don’t want to wake up all sticky tomorrow, do you?” She shook her head. Slowly, the two of them waddled down the hall to take their showers and get ready for bed.

Leon watched them until they were out of sight and then took their spot on the couch, pulling you down with him and tucking you against his side. You were happy to oblige, tossing your legs over his lap and nuzzling into him.

“Want me to get any of those pictures printed?” you asked tiredly.

“I have a few in mind,” he replied. You could print out all of them and he’d cherish each one. He sighed and leaned his head back against the cushion, closing his eyes.

The next time he opened them, he found the twins settled on either side of you, their hair still wet from their showers and sound asleep.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Napoleonville [Chapter 2: The Jailhouse]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, historical topics including war and discrimination, smoking, blasphemy, kids, parenthood, alcoholism, y'all know exactly who is in jail come on now, Pizza Hut, a wild ex-husband appears!

Word Count: 7k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @eltherevir @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @aemonddtargaryen @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @libroparaiso @bluerskiees

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰🧁

Amir is sitting at the kitchen table and icing peach cobbler cupcakes; he has a single white flower from a dogwood tree poked through one of his cornrows. He wears a short sleeve button-up shirt with a kaleidoscopic geometric pattern, high-waisted khaki shorts, and eyeglasses with large rectangular, tortoiseshell frames. He has one leg crossed over the other and is kicking it absentmindedly as he works, a habit he’s had since long before you met him in your 9th grade English class. The microwave is humming. Walk This Way is blaring from the little pink boombox.

“Ho, I mean it this time, I gotta get the hell out of this town.” Amir uses a fork to place a small peach wedge—sauteed in butter, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla—atop the swirl of buttercream frosting, then sprinkles the cupcake with cinnamon before moving on to the next. “Guess what some inbred neanderthal swamp creature did last night. They busted a window out of my car again.”

“I told you to take that thing off it.” Amir has a homemade bumper sticker on his Ford Escort that reads, in holographic rainbow cursive: Fuck Ronald Reagan (not literally)!

“That war criminal can let 50,000 people die of AIDS but I belong on America’s Most Wanted for exercising my First Amendment rights?”

“I know you’re not wrong. You know you’re not wrong. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“To be afraid is to behave as if the truth were not true. Bayard Rustin said that.”

“And I’m sure he was a very smart man, but he didn’t have to live in Napoleonville.” The microwave beeps, and you remove the sweet potato inside with an oven mitt and place it on the counter alongside the others. This is a trick you’ve learned: they’re so much easier to peel and slice once they’ve been microwaved a bit, thirty seconds for a small potato, one minute for a larger one. “You want me to ask Willis to do a stakeout or something?”

“He might be the one committing vandalism.”

You frown down at the sweet potatoes as you peel them over the cutting board and toss the skins into a bowl so Cadi can feed them to the squirrels later. You doubt Willis is responsible, but one of his friends very well could be.

Amir sighs, acquiescing, wistful. “Six months from now I’ll be in San Francisco.” Yes, he will; he’s been saving up for years. The thought of him leaving is practically apocalyptic. You can’t envision a future without Amir. It’s like the very worst version of when you’re a kid and some event—Christmas, your birthday, summer break, prom—is so glimmeringly monumental that whatever life will exist beyond it is incomprehensible, a haze of other people’s dreams and warnings. Surely you won’t exist in that timeline; surely you will dissolve away once that fateful checkpoint is reached and become nothing but sun and sand.

You don’t tell Amir any of this. You don’t want to make him feel guilty. Instead you tease: “You sure you don’t want to stay and get a job on one of those shiny new oil rigs?”

He laughs as he pipes buttercream frosting onto the last peach cobbler cupcake. His artistic talents far surpass yours, but you bring the baking techniques and recipe ideas. Still, you have always split the bakery profits—however meager they might be—equally. “Yes, how could I possibly pass up the opportunity to lose half my skin in an explosion caused by company negligence? Or inhale toxic fumes, or have my limbs ripped off, or fracture my skull? Or fall off a platform in the middle of the night and be eaten by a gator before anyone bothers to fish me out? I will surely regret all my life choices when I’m lying on the beach in Pacifica next to my new boyfriend who looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

The front door opens. It’s Mr. Fontenot, the town pharmacist. You call out: “Hi there! Come right on in! We’ve got your cake ready. Blue velvet with marshmallow cream and topped with candied blueberries. We read up on how to make them just for you. So thank you kindly for the learning opportunity.”

Since you’re wrist-deep in sweet potatoes, Amir leaps up to retrieve the box. He opens it so Mr. Fontenot can inspect his order. “When you cut into it, you’ll see that it’s a dark royal blue on the inside. Cookie Monster blue, not robin egg blue, just like you wanted.”

“Will ya look at that,” Mr. Fontenot says, beaming down at the cake. Written across the marshmallow cream in blue icing is (in Amir’s most elegant script): Happy 8th Birthday, Corey! “My grandson is going to get such a kick out of a blue cake.”

“He sure is,” Amir agrees. “Now can I talk you into anything else for the party? Some peach cobbler cupcakes, perhaps? Praline brownies? A brown sugar pie? Homemade Fruity Pebbles Rice Krispie Treats? Kids love them…!”

You say once Mr. Fontenot has gone: “He works for the company, you know.”

“Huh? Who?”

“Aemond. He works for Jade Dragon. He’s an engineer.”

“Ho, you are obsessed with that man!” Amir says. “You’ve brought him up, like, four times already!”

“Yeah,” you confess, a humiliation that is futile to deny. Parts of you are still sore from what he did to you; other places are aching for more.

“And you didn’t even get to see the dick?!”

You shake your head as you cut the peeled sweet potatoes into haphazard chunks. Amir puts a pot of water on the stove so you can boil them until they’re soft enough to mash into filling for a sweet potato pie. “Didn’t see it, didn’t touch it…”

“Didn’t lick it, didn’t suck it?”

“Okay, that’s enough, Dr. Seuss. But no.”

“Secret dick, scar on his face, missing an eye…” Amir mutters. “Maybe he’s a veteran who lost his andouille in combat! Yes! That’s it! He was there when we invaded Lebanon or Grenada or Libya and now he’s horribly disfigured and can’t bear the prospect of your inevitable horror and rejection!”

“His andouille is definitely unchopped. I could…uh…tell. Through his jeans.”

Amir closes his eyes and presses his palms together. “Sweet baby Jesus, please send me a gainfully employed big-dicked blonde man too.” He looks at you again. “But he really wouldn’t use it?!”

“Aemond said he wanted me to trust him first.”

“Maybe he doesn’t trust you. Maybe he thinks you might be on the prowl for Shotgun Wedding #2. You should tell him he’s got nothing to worry about in that department. You’ve been on the pill practically since Cadi was born.”

You murmur: “And I will be forever.”

“I know,” Amir says gently, pausing to squeeze your shoulder before taking the sweet potato hunks you’ve sliced already and dropping them in the boiling water. “So! When are you going to call him?”

You startle. “I can’t call him! I called him the first time. Now it’s his turn to call me. I can’t call him again, that would be desperate. Right?” Right?!

“Does he even know your number?”

“He knows my name, and he knows about the bakery. The number is publicly listed, he can find me in the phone book.”

Amir groans. “Lord have mercy, just call him! Pick up that pink phone right there beside the refrigerator and press those cute little buttons and say, loud and proud: Come on over here, big boy, I want to see that traumatized war veteran dick.”

The phone rings. You trip over your own feet as you lunge for it.

Amir snickers. “Pathetic!” He takes over slicing the rest of the sweet potatoes.

“Hello?!”

You hear a deep, slothful drawl; Willis’ family have been bayou people for longer than the United States has been a country. “Hey sugar, you want to bring your favorite ex-husband some dessert?”

You sigh. “Hi, Willis.” From across the kitchen, Amir makes retching noises.

“So what’d ya say? I just had a late lunch and got to thinkin’ of you. Gave me a sweet tooth.”

“Um, I don’t know, we’re really busy right now.” Amir snorts; you’ve had three customers in the last hour. There’s usually a rush first thing each morning and then again around closing time.

“Ya ain’t got time for me? Well, alrighty then. Maybe I won’t have time for you when you need a wild hog chased off your porch or a flat tire changed out there on Route 401.”

This is the eternal dilemma, the balance you wrestle with like a boat in a storm: not making him angry, not letting him get too close. You and Willis don’t have a formal agreement for custody or child support. You’ve worked it out yourselves, and he typically doesn’t make it too difficult. You’ve always felt that appeasement is the wisest course of action. As the elected sheriff of Assumption Parish, Willis Boudreaux is responsible for all criminal investigations, court proceedings, and tax collecting. Even when he was just a deputy, he had plenty of friends at the little white courthouse in the heart of downtown Napoleonville. You’re better off working with him than against him. “Okay, fine, I guess I have a few minutes. What do you want?”

“Why don’t you make a professional recommendation?”

You glance irritably at the kitchen table. “We have brown sugar pie, peach cobbler cupcakes, praline brownies, lemon blueberry cookies, uh, I’ve got half a strawberries and cream cake left in the fridge…”

“Definitely the cake,” Willis says. “I love strawberries. Remember how you fed them to me on the beach when we went to Grand Isle?”

That was…what, eight years ago? Ugh. “Barely.” You like when Willis has a girlfriend; then he mostly leaves you alone. Tragically, he and his most recent fiancé Colleen broke up last month. “I’ll drive the cake over now.” You slam the phone receiver into the base before Willis can respond.

“Let’s kill him,” Amir says.

You laugh. “I’ll consider it.”

“We can feed him to that gator out in the tree row.”

You grab a flat white bakery box off the pile, fold it open, and fetch what remains of the strawberries and cream cake from the refrigerator. “You’ll get that sweet potato pie in the oven if I’m gone for a half hour?”

“Yup. Then I’ll start working on the brown butter oatmeal raisin cookies. Is the recipe…? Oh, I see it, it’s right here on the counter. Got it. Have fun with your awful ex-husband. You sure you don’t want to add a little something special to that cake? Windex? Rat poison? He sure looks like a rodent to me. That nose? Those eyebrows?!”

“Amir, he’s just French.”

“He should be exiled to Saint Helena.”

“I’m going to have to put my own ad in the Bayou Journal,” you say, smiling sadly. “Who’s going to run the shop with me when you’re in San Francisco?”

Amir winks. “Maybe your traumatized, half-blind, hung-like-a-horse war veteran knows how to bake.”

Outside, the gator is sunning herself by the gravel driveway. She’s only about five feet long and dozing with her muddy green eyes closed, jagged upper teeth on display, missing toes here and there, back scarred by boat motors. It’s 90 degrees and sunny, warmth flooding over your bare legs and arms: denim shorts, lime green tank top. You can hear cicadas, doves, chickadees, starlings, goldfinches, ospreys, the benign droning of bumble bees. You throw the white box in the passenger seat and start your Chevy Celebrity, yellow paint, wood paneling, brown velour upholstery. You crank down the windows—the air conditioning is broken, that’s one reason why Willis’ brother was willing to sell it to you so cheap—and turn on the radio: 867-5309 by Tommy Tutone. You pull out onto Route 401, headed northeast towards downtown Napoleonville.

You pass fields of sugarcane and soybeans, shacks and trailers, grass green like emeralds. The hot mid-May air, humid and stagnant, blows through your hair. If the ride was any longer than ten minutes, you’d have needed a cooler for the cake. You find a parking spot on the street outside the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office and grab the box containing half a strawberries and cream cake, probably just starting to get melty around the edges. Deputy Melancon is on his way out when you arrive. He holds the glass door open for you.

“Comment ca va, cherie? Is that for me? I hope so!”

“I think your boss would chew your arm off if you tried to get between him and this cake.”

Deputy Melancon guffaws as he ambles towards his police car. “Have fun in there! It’s a zoo today.”

“What…?” But now you can hear the noise coming from inside the building: howling, banging, Willis telling someone to sit down and shut up, his Cajun drawl lethargic and calm. Willis is not a yeller, and you’ve never witness him raise his hands in violence. The being a cop part of his job is the aspect he enjoys the least. But sitting around jawing with his deputies until long after midnight, regaling them with tales of supposed glory acquired while you were home with a screaming baby, scrubbing floors, fixing dinner, still bleeding eight weeks after birth, waiting—because it was all there was to look forward to—for him to walk through the door and shuffle to the couch and collapse there with an ice-cold can of Bud Light in his fist, dripping condensation down his sinewy forearm? That’s what Willis lives for.

Willis is at his desk and grudgingly plodding through an intake form. His sunglasses have been shoved up into his dark curly hair; his hat—which he loathes wearing—is resting atop a mountain of deserted paperwork. There’s a poster of Heather Locklear on the wall along with a dartboard with a cutout of Tommy Lee in the center. There’s a man in one of the three holding cells that you’ve hardly ever seen used. He has slicked-back blonde hair, an aristocratic wisp of a moustache, an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and tiny red shorts and thick foam rainbow-patterned flip flops. He’s the person responsible for the ruckus.

“I want my phone call!” the prisoner shouts as he beats his palms against the iron bars. “Hey! Hey, mullet boy! I want my fucking phone call!”

Oddly, the stranger has a British accent. Aemond? you think for a split second. But no; this man couldn’t possibly be related to Aemond. He is short, slouched, soft all over, uncoordinated and uncomposed, pathetic, petulant, innately pitiful. Willis ignores him. He speaks to you instead.

“Bienvenue, sugar. Ya got something sweet for me?”

Obediently—though not entirely willingly—you bring him the white box and set it on his disorganized desk. Willis produces a stack of Styrofoam plates and a Ziploc bag full of plastic eating utensils that he keeps stocked in a drawer specifically for such occasions. He opens the box and sighs euphorically, his eyes on the moist pink cake and layers of whipped cream frosting as if it’s the flesh of a naked woman.

“Hey!” the prisoner shouts, gripping the iron bars and pressing his flushed cheeks flat against them. “Hey! I like cake too!”

“Just what I needed,” Willis tells you, as if the man isn’t there. “Sit down, eat with me.”

“I really don’t have long.”

“Ya got five minutes, don’t you?”

I guess I do. You sit down but don’t take any cake. As Willis cuts himself a slice, you can’t help but watch the man in the holding cell. He stares back at you, a little ashamed, a little defiant, palpably weak. You ask Willis: “What did you book him for?”

“DWI,” Willis says with his mouth full of cake. “Driving While Intoxicated.”

“Huh. You don’t usually pick people up for that.”

Willis points at the prisoner with his fork for emphasis. “This one was very intoxicated.”

The man kicks the bars with his flip flops. “I want my fucking phone call!”

“Ya already used it,” Willis says pragmatically, and nods to something on the floor of the holding cell: an empty, grease-stained Pizza Hut box. The prisoner looks at it, regretful.

“I didn’t know I’d only get one,” he admits. “But also! You ate three slices of my pizza!”

Willis chuckles. “Consider it payin’ your taxes.” Then, to you: “It was tres bien. Meat Lover’s. Ya can’t argue with that.”

“Hey cake lady,” the prisoner says, his prominent eyes weepy, needful, a deep stormy blue. “Can I have a piece? Please? Please? I’m having a rough day here. My flip flops are giving me blisters and your redneck husband committed pizza theft. And I’m in jail.”

“Ex-husband,” you correct him.

“Good for you. Smart cake lady.”

Willis says: “You just settle down and I’ll drive you over to the parish jail as soon as I’m done with my dessert.” He shovels cake into his mouth; he eats like a gator, like a pig.

At last, you cut a portion of strawberries and cream cake—the whipped cream frosting turning thin and runny—and place it on a Styrofoam plate. Then you get up to take it to the prisoner. You have a soft spot for the freaks of the world. You and Amir, you know exactly what it’s like to be freaks.

“Don’t give him no fork or nothing,” Willis says around a mouthful of cake. “I can’t have him tryin’ to kill himself.”

“As if I’d give you the satisfaction, Sasquatch!” the prisoner flings back.

“It’s the Rougarou we got down here, son,” Willis replies, unbothered.

You set the plate on the beige linoleum floor close enough for the prisoner to reach out and drag it to his cell. When you step back, he retrieves the cake and eats it with his bare hands. “Oh, fuck, this is so good!”

You turn to Willis. “Cadi keeps mentioning some horseback riding camp that a bunch of her friends are going to this summer. Can we make that happen?”

“Are you kiddin’ me?! It’s over $300! That’s a new boat!”

“I think it would mean a lot to her.”

“Tell her if she grows her hair back out, maybe she can go next year.” Willis licks pink cake crumbs from his fork. “Why the hell’d she ever get it cut like that?”

You shrug, irritated. “Because she wanted to.”

“Never wears no skirts or dresses, doesn’t care about jewelry, always got dirt on her face…ain’t she gonna want a boyfriend in a few years? Who’s gonna take her out lookin’ like that? Who’s gonna marry her one day?”

“She’s ten years old, Willis.”

“She’s been spending too much time with your little friend, that’s the problem.”

You glare furiously at him, but are interrupted before you can say something unwise. The man in the holding cell has finished his slice of cake. He sucks frosting off his chubby fingers and then yanks on the iron bars in vain. “I gotta go home! I gotta feed my ferret!”

“Guess ya should have thought about that before driving 70 miles per hour in a school zone, Mr.…” Willis glances at the intake form to refresh his memory. “Targaryen. What the heck is that, Italian? Polish? It ain’t French, that’s for sure.”

“It’s Greek, you dumb hick.”

Willis jabs his plastic fork at him. “You oughta watch that, son, or you’ll catch yourself a nasty case of what the liberals call police brutality.”

“He’s a Targaryen?” you ask, stunned. The man in the cell peers back at you with large, ever-wounded, ocean-blue eyes, glassy but not entirely unintelligent.

“So what?” Willis says.

“Willis, those are the oil people. Jade Dragon, the new rigs on Lake Verret? The Targaryens own that company.”

“Well I’ll be damned!” he marvels. “Really? This bon a rien right here, his family are a bunch of millionaires?”

“Yes. And you should probably let him make another phone call.”

“Yeah!” the prisoner says excitedly. “Listen to the cake lady!”

“Alright, alright,” Willis grumbles. “Guess I don’t need no legal trouble.” He picks up the phone off his desk and walks it to the holding cell; the cord stretches just far enough. “Make your damn phone call, gros couillion.”

Mr. Targaryen snatches up the receiver, punches some buttons, and listens as it rings. “Hi. Okay, don’t yell at me. Here’s the deal. I’m at the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office and I need you to pick me up. Wait, I said don’t yell at me! Stop yelling!!”

“I really need to get back to the bakery,” you tell Willis as you make for the door. “I’ll see you around, okay—?”

“Hey, sugar.” You stop and wait for him to finish. He’s considering you in that way he does sometimes: mild, thoughtful, vaguely sad, how’d we end up like this? He should know, you’ve told him a hundred times, but that doesn’t mean he understands. “I’m supposed to be gettin’ a new deputy next week. When he shows, I’ll send him down your way, recruit ya another customer. Charge him a little extra if you want. He won’t know no better.”

“Thanks, Willis,” you say, and you mean it. Then you step outside into sun glare and the shrieking of cicadas.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s almost dinnertime when the phone rings. You’re heating up the turtle soup that Amir brought over earlier, stirring the pot as the sky outside turns from a crystalline blue—just like Aemond’s eye—to rust and amber and fool’s gold, as the twilight air breathes into the room warm and ancient. There’s a plump nutria nibbling on grass at the edge of the backyard. Wham’s Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go pipes from the boombox. At first you’re too startled to race for the phone—too terrified that it won’t be Aemond, too afraid to get your hopes up—and you hesitate just long enough for Cadi to answer instead.

“Hello?” she says, and then: “Yeah, school was good.”

Everything sinks in you, heart, spirit, the sweltering pressure of blood ebbing in your veins. Oh. It’s Willis.

Cadi continues chatting away obliviously. “Uh huh. Not really. We learned about robber barons and cannons of Italy. Yeah, captains of industry, that’s what I meant. Uh huh. Yup. It was okay, I guess. Yeah. Today it was pizza, but it’s always shaped like a rectangle. Exactly, no crust. It’s weird. Pepperoni. I always sit with Michelle and Erica. Erica has this totally tubular book about horses she showed us. Yup. I like the Appaloosas the most. Uh huh. Okay, I will. Yup. Bye.” Then she hands you the phone. “For you,” she says, then resumes setting the counter: cups, bowls, spoons, folded Bounty paper towels, dinner for two. You never eat at the kitchen table. The table is reserved for business.

You raise the pink phone receiver to your ear with some uncertainty. What does he want now? “Willis?”

“No,” Aemond says, amused. “Though we’ve been to some of the same places.”

You try not to let the smile fill up your face. You fail. “You were asking Cadi about her day?”

“Evidently.” You don’t know what this means; you don’t ask. “When are you free?”

“I usually have the house to myself on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.” It’s currently Monday.

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow. What time?”

“I should be done in the bakery at around 5:00.”

“I’ll be there at 5:01.” Then Aemond hangs up. So do you, your skull suddenly abloom like springtime, colors and promise and warmth. He’s going to be here in less than 24 hours. I really am going to see him again.

You turn towards the counter. “Cadi, what are robber barons?”

“Rich people who are mean to their workers to get as much money as possible. They don’t care about others. They just want more and more and more. They’re very greedy and are never satisfied.”

“So like the Rockefellers and Standard Oil,” you say, thinking back to your high school American History class. It feels like a lifetime ago, it feels like trying to catch lightning bugs in your bare hands.

“Yeah.” Cadi pours herself a cup of Tang. She’s wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt and green corduroy pants; her father would not approve. “Or Jade Dragon Energy.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Tuesday, 5:03 p.m., rattling cicadas and golden light like the lit coil of a stove burner. You’re still scrubbing dishes, and Amir is icing the last of the orange creamsicle cupcakes for the next morning. Aemond opens the unlocked front door and strides purposefully into the kitchen: ripped jeans, red t-shirt, Converses to match, Marlboro jacket. He is carrying a neon teal duffle bag that he drops on the sloping wooden floor where the living room meets the kitchen. He is momentarily taken aback when he sees Amir, then recalls what you told him about your friend who helps run the bakery. Aemond pulls out one of the kitchen table chairs and sits. He lifts the glass lid from a cake plate, takes the last peach cobbler cupcake for himself, makes unflinching eye contact with you as he licks the frosting off it with long, slow, sensual drags of his tongue.

Amir says: “Hey Scarface, that’s $1.”

“Amir!” you scold, mortified. But Aemond doesn’t seem offended. He smirks, extracts his black leather wallet from the pocket his jeans, and fishes out four singles. He slides them across the table.

Amir sighs. “This bitch can’t even count.”

“I’m sure he can count,” you say, smiling. “He’s an engineer.”

“He’s mouth-fucking this cupcake right in front of me, he’s clearly unstable.”

Aemond looks to you. His voice is low, imposing. “I need to know what your limits are.”

“Oh my God!” Amir squeaks, bent over the table and icing as quickly as he can.

“Okay,” you tell Aemond. You rinse the pearlescent soap bubbles from your hands, wrists, forearms. Then you step out from behind the counter and watch him, remember him, imagine what will happen next.

He gives the peach cobbler cupcake another lap. Buttercream frosting coats his mischieviously curled lips and then is swiftly licked away. “Can I spank you?”

“Yes.”

Amir mutters to himself: “Grandma is never going to believe this.”

“Can I tie you up?”

“Yes.”

“Can I bite you hard enough to leave bruises?”

You pause. “Only places that will be covered by my clothes.”

“And what should you say if you ever don’t like what I’m doing?”

“I just tell you to stop.”

“Exactly.” Aemond grins. His right eye skates from your face to your chest to your hips to your thighs to your ankles, drinking you down like the earth swallows rain, like the vines and cypress trees and Sanish moss of the bayou thieve sunlight and never give it back. His left eye doesn’t move at all, though this is not something you would notice if you didn’t know to look for it. “Good girl.”

“Done!” Amir announces triumphantly, completing the swirl of frosting on the final orange creamsicle cupcake.

“Can I pull your hair?” Aemond asks you.

“Yeah, I think so. Not hard enough to yank it out though.”

Aemond scoffs. “Of course not. I don’t actually want to hurt you. That’s what some doms are after, but not me. Not here, not with you. You don’t want real pain, do you…?”

“No, definitely not,” you say, relieved.

“Brilliant. Then we’re on the same page.”

Amir could leave, but he doesn’t. His eyes dart between you and Aemond from behind his large rectangular glasses, fascinated, scandalized, too astonished to move.

Aemond continues: “Birth control?”

“I’m on the pill and have been for years. I can show you the pack if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you. I saw them in your bathroom last time I was here. I’m in the practice of using condoms regardless.” He tilts his head impishly. “Can I fuck your ass?”

“Um.” You hesitate. This is uncharted territory, though you cannot say that you are entirely unintrigued. “Maybe one day.”

“Noted. Some people find the sensation, the taboo, the fullness…quite pleasurable.”

“Do you?” Amir asks flirtatiously.

Aemond gives him a lazy, ludicrously charming smile. “Well I’ve never been on the receiving end, but I’m game to give it a try if you are.”

Amir bursts out laughing, then says to you: “He’s alright. He can commit abominable sins with you, I guess.” He stands and shakes Aemond’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Kind of.” Then he saunters off through the living room and out the front door. After a moment, you and Aemond listen to his blue Ford Escort rumble to life and then the crunching of gravel as it rolls out of the driveway. From the boombox drifts Just What I Needed by The Cars.

Aemond licks the last of the frosting from the peach cobbler cupcake and says: “Now you’re going to be the cupcake.” He crosses the kitchen, kneels down in front of you, roughly yanks down your denim shorts. He presses his face to your royal blue satin panties—hastily purchased this morning while Amir watched the shop and changed into just one hour ago in anticipation of Aemond’s arrival—and inhales deeply, desperately, like a drowning man gasping for air. Then, through the sheer fabric, he begins to tease you: nudges of his nose, nibbles of his lips.

Your fingers tangle in his short blonde hair. Blonde like the drunk man in the holding cell, you think randomly. “Aemond, why didn’t you want me last time?”

“I wanted you. I wanted you then and I want you now.”

“But I disappointed you. You didn’t finish.”

“Oh, I came,” he purrs. “Went home, got in the shower, thought of you. It didn’t take long. I would have disappointed you terribly. Woke up in the middle of the night thinking of you. Tried to miraculously get some work done yesterday while thinking of you. Crawled out of bed this morning thinking of you. Are you noticing a theme?”

You smile as his tongue presses forcefully against the satin. “I might be.”

“How many times in your life has a man treated his orgasm as essential and your own as an afterthought, if he considered it at all?”

Oh God. That’s the fucking truth. “A lot more than once.”

“So consider what we did on Sunday as one little notch in the other column. Just restoring a bit of much-needed balance to the universe.” He hooks his thumbs under your panties and tugs them off. “Open your thighs for me,” he orders as he pushes them apart with his palms: large, smooth, artful hands. You brace your own hands against the kitchen counter as he buries his face between your legs, not lapping in a tentative, exploratory sort of way but feasting on you, drowning in you, lips and tongue and then fingers that skate up the downy inside of your thigh to taunt you, enter you, fuck you expertly yet leave you wanting more of him, all of him. Your nerves are on fire, your blood is simmering. Outside the birds of prey are emerging from their liars and battle-scarred gators stalk boldly through the green prehistoric wildness of the Deep South.

What happened to his eye? you think through the lust-pink haze, knowing you cannot ask him. Aemond respects your rules. You must abide by his as well. How was he injured so gravely? Who hurt him? Did they atone for their misdeeds, did they pay the cost?

Suddenly, Aemond stands and pulls you against him by your waist, rips your yellow tank top over your head and unhooks your bra, kisses you fiercely. His mouth is dripping with you, clean mineral longing; his right eye is gleaming, famished, not just lustful but half-mad. No one else exists. No one ever has or ever will. “Go to the bed and wait for me there.”

“No.”

He spanks you once with his open palm; the sound is sharp and exquisite. “Go.” And this time you obey, counting the seconds in the dusk-lit splinter of time before he joins you.

In Aemond’s duffle bag—among other things, surely—are silk scarves the color of sapphires. First he fastens one over your eyes as a blindfold. Then he ties one around each of your wrists and binds both to the same bedpost, low enough that while your hands are kept up by your head, you still have some room to maneuver on the freshly-laundered, wildflower-patterned duvet. “Not different posts?” you ask Aemond.

“No. Tying your arms far apart like that can cause cramps in your back and your shoulders. It can even make it difficult to breathe. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to be focused entirely on what I’m doing to you.”

You moan as his fingers slip between your legs and circle over the place that makes your muscles yearn and twist and tighten until you feel they might snap, until you can imagine every string of you breaking and dissolving from the prison of flesh into water, air, gravity, the eternal silent progress of time. He bites and sucks at your nipples, flicking his tongue over them, admiring them, praising them, ravenous for them. You are enraptured by the weight of him on top of you. Without your sight, everything else is more noticeable, more real: his warmth, his sweat, his every brush of skin against yours, his smoke and cologne and gasps and sighs, the grinding of his bare cock against your thighs as he makes you ready for him. And you beg for it long before he gives it to you.

“Roll over,” he commands breathlessly, and then guides you: your fingers clutching the scarves that secure your wrists, your elbows propped on the mattress, your back arched and hips angled up towards him, his lips murmuring against your shoulder, your cheek, the side of your throat. He’s telling you so many things, perfect things, delicious things you’ll never hear enough of: how beautiful you are, how badly he wants you, how well you’re doing. There is the sound of Aemond opening a condom wrapper, and a strange sorrow ripples through you. I wish I could have him raw.

One of his hands reaches around to stroke you, keeping you soaked and supple for him. The other begins to guide his cock into your aching, starving wetness. You stretch for him, you accept him eagerly…and then there is resistance. He stills immediately and tries a slightly different angle. Nothing. He could force it, probably, but he won’t. He recedes from you, agonizing emptiness, dire unfulfillment. I’m disappointing him, he’s too big, I’m too tight, too nervous, too inexperienced at being dominated, I can’t please him. You whimper: “Aemond, I’m sorry—”

“No,” he says, more ferocious than any words you’ve ever heard from him. You are not allowed to criticize yourself. You are not allowed to give up so easily. He leans down and whispers into the shell of your ear, his ribs against your spine, his heat entombing you: “Relax. I’m in charge now. I’ll take care of you.”

You want him to. You need him to. His commandment rolls through your blood and bones like a wave, loosening those last vestiges of anxiety, shaking grim psychological heirlooms from the highest shelves. You can surrender yourself completely to Aemond. He is worthy, he is safe, he is euphoria made flesh. His fingertips are still stroking you. He pushes your thighs just a little farther apart and—slowly, cautiously—eases his cock into your throbbing warmth. He hisses in a breath, though he tries not to break character, to show you that he might just be a little bit at your mercy too.

You moan loudly and shamelessly, letting him know you’re alright, more than alright, in ecstasy, in bliss, in torment, on the edge. When Aemond thrusts, he finds a place that’s never been hit so directly or so well. The climax is on you before you are aware of it, one of those swells that rises out of nowhere, capsizes the boat, fades back into the endless blue of the ocean. It jolts through your pelvis, your spine, your skull, and then evaporates like steam from a bathroom mirror. And now Aemond is trying to finish too, but something is off. He tries a few different rhythms, can’t seem to get it right. You think you can feel him beginning to soften. No no no, I can’t leave him unsatisfied again.

You look back, though you cannot see him through the blindfold; instinctively, you want to be closer to him. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing,” Aemond says. “Nothing, nothing, nothing is wrong. You’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.” He turns your face so he can kiss you deeply, his tongue in your mouth, swallowing you down, entangled in every way possible. And only then he is able to come: powerfully, trembling, crying out like he’s in the kind of pain that leaves scars for life.

He glides his cock out of you, and you can hear him snap off the condom. Then he unties your blindfold and your wrists. You reach for him, then stop yourself; he reaches for you—a reflex, surely—and then shakes the notion away and collapses beside you on the duvet. You both lie there panting, gazing dizzily up at the long shadows of centuries-old oak trees that cascade across the ceiling, minds drained, bodies spent.

After a moment, Aemond clambers off the bed to grab a lighter and a pack of Marlboro Reds out of his jeans pocket. Then he flops back down next to you, lights a cigarette, takes a deep, slow drag. “So, cupcake,” he says nonchalantly, exhaling smoke, hand shaking. “Where’d you get married?”

You laugh; this is ridiculous. “Why on earth would you want to know that?”

“I want to know things about you. Things other than your tits and your pussy. I mean, those are great. I enjoy them tremendously, and I plan to keep enjoying them. But I also enjoy you.”

You sigh. Aemond waits, puffing on his cigarette. “The parish courthouse.” Plain, boring, economical. “I wanted a wedding at Saint Honoratus, but…”

“Saint…who?”

“The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens,” you say. “It’s this gorgeous place in a town called Belle River on the other side of Lake Verret. Very small, very old, it’s a historic site or something, they can’t ever knock it down.”

“Why couldn’t you get married there?”

You shrug; how much could the details matter now? Someone needed to organize it, someone needed to decorate, someone needed to pay for food and drinks, someone needed to send out invitations, someone needed to care enough to make it happen, and that someone would have been you, just you, seventeen and broke and bedridden with morning sickness until noon every day. “It just didn’t work out.”

“Sounds like a lot of things didn’t work out for you.”

You raise your eyebrows. Aemond winces.

“Sorry. That was…not the way I meant to express that sentiment.”

You forgive him. You’d forgive him for anything right now, right here, in a bed stained with his sweat and your wetness and the seed you wish he could have spilled inside you. You taunt him: “Should we meet up at your house next time?”

He recoils, horrified. “No. Definitely not.”

“Why? What’s at your house? An abandoned wife and six tall, blonde, prominently-jawed children?”

He chuckles; he has collected himself again. “No. It’s just that…well…I have family in town currently. They’re staying with me while I get set up with the new job and everything. Quite a lot of people. And my family is…unorthodox.”

You wish he would stop using words you don’t know. That’s the hazard of affiliating with a highfalutin petroleum engineer, you suppose. “So they’re strange?”

“That’s a kind word for it.”

“I like strange people. I like you.”

Aemond smirks warily. “You wouldn’t like them. Just trust me on that.” He traces the border of your face with his fingertips, contemplating your secrets, tending his own like a nightscape garden. “Do you ever want to do something…not in your bedroom?”

You grin and he kisses you, nicotine and quelled desire; he can’t help it. You say when you break away: “What, like dinner or flowers or any of the other activities that were very clearly not a part of this arrangement?”

“Arrangements are flexible.”

“Are they?”

“This one is. Increasingly so.”

You ponder his proposition. “There’s this new restaurant I really want to go to. I’ve never been before, but it looks pretty rad in the commercials on tv. It’s up in Gonzales.”

“The same town as your illustrious Kmart engagement. How fortuitous. Pease continue.”

“It’s an Italian place,” you say.

“I love Italian.”

“It’s called Olive Garden.”

Aemond’s mouth falls open. He is bewildered, appalled. His cigarette smolders forgotten in the crook of his fingers. You might as well have told him you wanted to run over puppies with lawnmowers. “You want me to take you to Olive Garden? Seriously?”

You are wounded. “What’s wrong with Olive Garden?”

“Cupcake, Olive Garden is not real Italian food. That’s like saying Taco Bell is Mexican.”

“…Isn’t it?”

“Okay,” he capitulates. He smiles as he smooths your disheveled hair and touches his lips to your forehead. “It’s fine. We’ll go to Olive Garden.”

“Really?” you reply, beaming.

“Really. You’re free Thursday?”

“Unless Willis has to switch nights for some reason, yeah.”

“Then we’ll go Thursday.” Aemond rolls off the bed and finds a mug—Return Of The Jedi, Princess Leia and the Ewoks—left on your dresser to put his cigarette out in. He looks through the screen of your open bedroom window as the sky turns ever-darker, as the moon and stars begin to rise, and he breathes in the verdant, humid, ageless witchcraft of the bayou. “You have no idea what the last few days have been like for me,” Aemond says softly, his bare back turned to you, the ridge of his spine like a road cut through a swamp or a forest or a field of sugarcane. “You have no idea how badly I needed this.”

[adachimoe]

The Tohru Adachi Cafe @ Nico Nico Honsha

Back in 2014, when volume 4 of the Golden anime came out, Nico Nico held a Tohru Adachi Cafe in Ikebukuro (nerd town ~for girls~) at the Parco Annex. The cafe ran from December 10th to December 23rd.

If only it had ran from the 8th to the 24th... Then it'd be the same as the days you have to clear Magatsu Inaba in-game...

Food Menu

Narukami's Cream Stew: Website caption is Yu saying, "I'd like to give this to you, Adachi-san. Or... do you not want it?" There's also a note that you can't take the tupperware with you lol

Adachi's Cabbage Rolls: Website caption is Yu saying, "But you had bonds all along. Let's go home, Adachi-san."

"Stole the Only Piece of Uni" Cream Pasta: Referring to the post-Mitsuo celebration scene in the game where Adachi takes the only piece of uni sushi. The text mentions you can order as many as you like so you won't get yelled at for stealing the only uni.

Drink Menu

A person who went took photos of the drink menu that describes what's in each drink. Which omg thank you person from 10 years ago. The Nico announcement doesn't say what the ingredients are haha.

Magatsu Izanagi: Cola, grenadine, mixed berries. The berries in the glass are supposed to evoke the imagery of Magatsu Inaba with Shadows floating around. (The photo from Nico makes it look like Amenosagiri.)

Izanagi: Cola, passion fruit syrup, and a lemon. The lemon is a stand-in for Izanagi's chrysanthemum-looking emblem.

Caption for both Izanagis is Adachi saying, "Dohoho our Personas look so similar, what iony".

Nanako's Strawberry Milk: Strawberry ice cream ice cubes, milk, and strawberry syrup. The person who went to the cafe ordered this and said it was really sweet at the end w/just the ice left.

A Gift of Mango Juice for Bedridden Dojima: Mango juice and cut mango. The quote caption is Dojima yelling at Adachi for buying mango instead of apple in the beginning of episode 7.

(Yea, it's pretty traditional to buy apples as a gift for someone who's ill. You might have seen that in jdramas or anime before lol. The text mentions Adachi isn't old-fashioned and thinks mangos work fine 'cause they have nutrients and are easy to digest.)

Cabbage Juice for Busy Detectives: Yes... Cabbage juice... Cabbage, banana, milk, and honey. The text mentions there's a certain detective who can't be fucked to cook, this drink is a way for him to get some nutrients, and also a great way to use up all of your cabbages when you buy too many lmao. Nico posted a follow-up that mentioned the cabbage juice was a staff favorite. The blog of the person who went to the cafe said that the cabbage juice tasted like banana, but it had no ice in it and was lukewarm, which sounds like a gigantic skull emoji ngl. (Also it was served w/fresh potato chips.)

Bonuses

They gave out placement size stills from the anime (episodes 6/7) with orders. These are pretty common at Japanese cafe events - you can go get them laminated after to actually use as a placemat lol. The particular placemats of Adachi holding the Jester gets resold on Mercari, in K-Books, etc, for $$ crazy money $$. Wish there was one of Narukami princess carrying Adachi.

Photos

Nico Nico later posted photos from the event that showed off the cafe and the decorations:

And there were chalkboards and whiteboards where people could doodle and leave messages:

Left image:

Left: The uni pasta was delicious. Thank you, Adachi Cafe!

Above Ame: This world is full of Adachi (A parody of Adachi's "This world has gone to shit" line (世の中クソだな))

Right: Congratulations on the opening!

Right image:

Blue chalk: Ya~y!

Yellow chalk: Congratulations Adachi Cafe!

[twstgarden]

❁ ❝ 𝗸𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗯𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝗿𝗮𝗺𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲 ❞

━ first years and gn! reader (reader can either be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ the weekend is finally here, and you and your dear batchmates have decided to make the best of it with a simple get-together. (f/n means first name)

this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia's arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

­­­­knock, knock, knock

the obnoxious thumping on the door abruptly interrupted your blissful weekend nap. you groaned in annoyance as you sat up, rubbing your eyes and realising your accompanied creature with an abyssal appetite was nowhere to be seen.

you got out of bed and opened the door in a rather grumpy manner, preparing to show your frustration to whoever was knocking on your door on a weekend.

as soon as your eyes landed on a familiar group, your frustration grew even more, “what’s the big deal, guys?”

deuce was the first to apologise sheepishly as he spoke, “ah, sorry, n/n…” before he could continue speaking, however, a certain first year cut him off, casually draping an arm on your shoulder with that cheeky grin on his face.

“happy weekend, n/n~! remember the plan we talked about? also, it’s 3 in the afternoon, why are you still sleeping?”

ace’s words made you realise this weekend had some plans for you with your batchmates. it was no wonder that epel, jack, and ortho were standing by your bedroom door as well. however, there was one missing person…

“where’s sebek?” you asked, trying to get ace’s heavy arm off your shoulders, but he took it as a sign to tighten his hold onto you just to annoy you even more.

“he’s in the backyard, setting up the grill,” replied jack, and as soon as he said that, he excused himself and went to the backyard to assist sebek.

“the foods to be grilled are all prepared! go and dress up, n/n,” spoke epel as he smiled at you before walking away, presumably heading to your kitchen, leaving ace, deuce, and ortho with you. the Ignihyde child had a bright smile on, showing how excited he was to spend time with you.

“f/n-san! good afternoon!” greeted the child enthusiastically, causing you to smile as all your frustrations from earlier disappeared in the blink of an eye. you patted ortho’s shoulder as you replied, “good afternoon, ortho. well, i’ll make me look presentable.”

ace hummed as he replied teasingly, “you should. you look like you came out of a cave after a century has passed."

you were about to reply but he quickly left with deuce and ortho in tow, heading to either the backyard or the kitchen to prepare for today’s hangout. you sighed, shaking your head slightly before closing your bedroom door.

“grim! that’s my chicken!” yelled epel as he tried to get his barbecue chicken from grim, but it was long gone from his hands as it met the darkness of his stomach. you gave epel a piece of your chicken to make up for grim’s behaviour, “you should have guarded your food better, epel~”

the pomefiore first year huffed before trying to hand you back your meal, feeling embarrassed that you had to give up something of your own for him. your conversation was abruptly cut off by a loud voice from the microphone coming from the lounge.

“HELLO!!!”

the rest shrieked, almost dropping their food or drinks in the process before you looked at sebek standing by the lounge window with a disapproved expression, seeing him hold the microphone as he tested its volume. jack, who was beside him, was clearly annoyed from the loud noise, “sebek, don’t yell into the mic…”

“i was testing it!”

“you could just tap it…” mumbled jack before lowering the volume a little.

you chuckled at their dynamics before sipping on your drink. deuce and epel were busy grilling the marinated meat and potatoes. the aroma of the savoury meals reached your nostrils, filling you with delight as you felt your stomach rumble a little.

ace noticed you had been staring at the grilling barbecue meat and potatoes, and without a word, he grabbed a small plate and filled it with the recently cooked meals. he then approached you, sitting beside you as he handed the plate, “you did not eat yet and i could see how you were drooling at the sight of the grill.”

deuce quickly glanced at you as he continued grilling the potatoes while epel continued grilling the meat, grabbing your preferred sauce, and handing it to you as the heartslabyul first year smiled, “eat up, n/n. we still have plenty of food to grill.”

“thanks, guys, but this is a lot. i can’t finish this,” you spoke as you looked at the filled-up plate. ace grabbed some utensils and said with a teasing grin, “who says you’re eating that alone? now, scooch over.”

“the karaoke is all good!” announced jack as he and sebek stood by the window of the lounge with a proud smile. the karaoke machine was seen behind them as it was flickering colourful lights to indicate that it was on. “i’ve updated the song list, too!” added ortho, causing epel and ace to cheer in delight, feeling excited to just start singing with drinks and barbecues on the table.

“let’s eat first before we sing our hearts out,” recommended deuce as he continued grilling the potatoes. “more like annoy people,” corrected epel with a soft snicker as he continued grilling the meat.

as you all ate to your heart’s content, evening came rather quickly. laughter and light-hearted bickering filled the atmosphere as you enjoyed your drinks and meals with your batchmates. as soon as the sun had set, ace decided to use his magic to put up some lights in the area – to impress, perhaps, or to fish out compliments.

“oohh, that’s more like it. now, i can see if a certain paw tries to steal my food again,” remarked epel before grim huffed. “you were not even eating it, so i did the meat a favour and devoured it!” spoke the cat-monster as the rest of you chuckled.

after a few minutes, you were conversing with sebek about the books he lent you a week ago. he was seated beside you, the grill settled on his other side as it remained closed after having all your meals. your conversation was unfortunately cut short by a sudden loud singing.

(1) “🎶 YOU CAN RELAX MY FRIE—”

“not yet! the instrumental isn’t even playing yet,” exclaimed epel as he laughed, stopping ace from singing with no background music. deuce chuckled while ortho had a smile on as he spoke, “ace trappola-san is just excited to sing!”

“the lyrics he sang did not match his current demeanour, though,” remarked jack.

“ortho is right! come on, epel, play it already! i’ll show you all that i’ll get the highest points!” cheered ace as epel sighed, playing the instrumental as ace started singing. both you and sebek were already cut off from your conversation and listened to ace’s singing. as much as you wanted to tease him, he sings pretty well that you can help but sway to the beat.

after ace completed the song, the point system showed up and he got a perfect score, making him cheer, “WOOHH!!! told y’all so!” deuce sighed and stood up, snatching the microphone from ace as he spoke, “it’s too early to celebrate.”

deuce went through the track list, wanting to see which song he would start singing. it took a few seconds until he found the song he wanted to sing. as soon as the instrumental started playing, he started singing.

(2) “🎶 welcome to wonderland, we’ve got it all~ 🎶”

if you had a light stick, you would have been waving it. you enjoyed deuce’s performance, complimenting him once he was done singing as you liked how his voice sounded. he was bashful due to your compliment but remained calm as he thanked you.

as soon as deuce’s points showed on the screen, ace chuckled and said, “hah! you’re just 3 points lower than me!” deuce huffed as he retorted back in reply, “i-i didn’t give it my all, okay!” ace laughed in response, “nah, i’m kidding. there’s actually a trick in getting the perfect score during karaoke.”

and with that, the heartslabyul first year shared his trade secret, but of course, he wanted something in return.

once that was done, it was jack’s turn to sing, but he declined the offer, “no, i don’t sing… it’s not my thing, you know.” his words made the rest of you let out disapproving groans as deuce practically shoved the microphone to him, “it’s all for fun, man! don’t worry, we won’t tease you.”

“hehehe…”

“ace, stop chuckling.”

as the rest continued bickering and laughing about, you remained seated with your arms crossed and a smile on your face, eyeing each and every one of them as thoughts swirled in your mind, finding peace, comfort, and happiness from just being surrounded by them, by the people you call your friends.

‘you always make me feel included... like i belong here...’

lyrics are taken from: 1 – Open Arms by Jorge Rivera-Herrans, Steven Dookie, and EPIC Ensemble from EPIC: The Musical – The Troy Saga 2 – Welcome to Wonderland by Anson Seabra

© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[cas-skz]

Back to you (Crumble pt 2.)

Wooyoung x FEM!reader

| non-idol au | drama/romance | 18+!! |

Weeks apart from Wooyoung and San have effected you mentally and physically. Your travel companion has no luck breaking through to you and with all your energy drained, you pass out. What happens after the hospital will change everything.

[writers note]

THANK YOU SO SO FLIPPIN MUCH!!!! I seriously always feel so touched when I get good feed back & responses. It means a lot & I appreciate your support so so much!!!

I hope this pulls at your heart strings just as much as the first

Tag List: @a-teez-4-exo @ppeachyttae @pearltinyy @yujuvly @kiwimash12 @neteyamandloakisfoine @mayblues @miaatiny

Every part of you felt numb. Your body was heavy and heart shattered. The whole event of last night played through your head over and over again, hurting more each time.

You didn’t want it to be real. You didn’t want San and Wooyoung to be gone.

“Wake up. We’re here.” The males voice came from the front seat.

You sat up to look at your surroundings, a small cabin on a lake front with not much else in sight. To most it would be peaceful, but to you it was hell at the moment.

You took Ella from her car seat, holding her in your lap as you sighed quietly. “Guess we’re here.” You told her, exiting the car.

“Where are we?” You asked the male, who was grabbing the bags from the car.

“Somewhere safe.” He simply replied, motioning for you to follow him to the cabin.

You rolled your eyes at his answer, following inside. It was decent enough, a living room with tv, the kitchen was stocked with new pots and pans, and a pile of groceries were stacked on the floor.

You made your way down the hall, glancing in at the bathroom before finding your and Ella’s bags in a room at the end of the hall. You got her freshened up and grabbed a bottle before setting in a crib that had been set up.

You laid on your side on the bed across from the crib, watching as she played with the toys and stuffies Woo had grabbed for her. You couldn’t help but cry again, feeling hopeless and confused.

San and Wooyoung had always kept the business side of things hush hush, but over time you started to pick up on little things. Woo arranged boxing matches where people placed high bets to watch San fight an opponent.

99% of the time San was victorious, in exception for Leeknow. Every few weeks the boys would come home after a loss and chat over how to defeat him the next time. Woo always said the loss left a dent in their wallets.

The knock on the door woke you up. You groaned quietly, not even realizing you had fallen asleep.

“Sorry…she’s been fussing. I can take her if you want.” The male said.

It was only now you realized who had been accompanying you this whole time. “Mingi?”

“Yea..I didn’t think you remembered.” He chuckled, taking a few steps towards the crib.

“No.” You said quickly, “I got her.”

You rushed to your feet to swoop Ella into your arms, hushing her as you dug through one of the bags.

“Sorry.” Mingi said quietly, scratching the back of his head. “I have dinner going. It’ll be ready soon.” He smiled softly before turning and heading back to the kitchen.

You didn’t exactly remember Mingi, but he had been one of your elementary school friends and you thought he’d left town years ago.

Once you found a soother for Ella, you both made your way into the kitchen. You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep, but the cabin looked much cozier than when you arrived.

A small play area had been set up in the living room, which you placed Ella into after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“Are you hungry?” Mingi asked from the kitchen.

“Uh, no. No thanks. Ella’s probably starving.”

“I made her mashed peas and potatoes. There’s a few pieces of pork chop cooling for her too.”

To your surprise, the food at prepared correctly for her age and was made into a smiley face on a cute dinosaur plate.

“Don’t worry, I know how to not kill a baby. I have a three year old and a handful of nieces and nephews.” Mingi smirked, passing you the plate and a baby spoon.

“Thanks.” You mumbled quietly.

You sat inside Ella’s play area and propped her inside the bumbo seat before feeding her dinner.

“I think she approves.” Mingi said from the kitchen table as he munched down on his own meal.

You ignored his comment, focusing on keeping Ella’s face clean as your thoughts wondered to Woo and San. You couldn’t help but worry and wonder where they were, if they were okay. Not to mention the hurt you felt from then suddenly leaving you.

The day creeped into night and you went along with your normal routine with Ella, bathing her and reading a couple of stories before settling her down in bed with a bottle.

Mingi had made himself comfortable in the smaller bedroom, setting up a little gaming station and some mood lighting. It seemed like he was always making someplace feel like home.

“You still haven’t eaten.”

His deep voice creeped out from his room, you peaked in to see him sitting on a bean bag chair, playing gta on a small tv screen.

“I just don’t feel hungry. I’m fine though.” You smiled softly before turning towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower. Do you mind listening out for her?”

“No problem at all.”

The hot water washed over your face as you sobbed as quiet as you could. There was a million questions running through your head. Why San would just send you off without explanation. Why they couldn’t go with you. There was no off button to the mess in your head.

As you opened the bathroom door, Mingi gave you a small wave, “She’s snoring. I’m heading to sleep soon.” He stretched out before standing up and heading to the door, leaning onto the side as he started to close it.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks. Night.”

You tried to comfort yourself with Woo’s shirt, the familiar sent of him brought you mixed emotions, which you tried your best to push aside. At some point you drifted to sleep on your tear stained pillow, thought it was nothing compared to falling asleep in Woo’s arms as he fucked you slowly.

The next few days felt numb. You went through day by day, moment by moment just focusing on Ella. You were a mess. You had barely eaten, barely spoken to Mingi. The only update you had gotten was that Leeknow had thrown a fight and his people were angry with the loss.

You were too exhausted to focus on what was being told to you as Mingi filled you in the latest events.

“I guess it’s almost resolved. There was some sort of confrontation but they ended up actually chatting.”

Your eyes tried to focus on Mingi cleaned dishes, but the room started to spin.

“If all goes well, you should be going home pretty so-”

Your body fell to the ground with a hard thud as you blacked out. The lack of food and hours of crying finally had you hitting a brick wall.

Mingi cursed as a glass dropped from his hand, he ran to your side and patted your face a few times. “Fuck. Come on, wake up.”

He grabbed your glass of water off the table and splashed it on your face, “Y/N.” He tapped your face a little harder as you woke a bit, still very fuzzy and spaced.

You remember being in the car as Mingi drove towards the nearest hospital. Ella was strapped in her seat and you laid fading in and out on the seat next to her.

The beeping of a heart monitor rang in your ears as you came out of unconsciousness, you mumbled to yourself as the nurse greeted you and let you know what was going on.

“We gave you some fluids but you’re going to need to eat before you leave, other than that, you and the baby are overall fine.”

“What?” Your tone was unexpectedly harsher than you expected.

“Well we had to run a blood test just to make sure it was lack of nutrients…I-I’m sorry, if you didn’t know.”

You stared blankly for a moment, “No-“ you paused to look at her, offering a small smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You laughed quietly as a tear fell down your cheek. “Thank you.”

After following the doctors orders and apologizing to Mingi and Ella for not taking care of your self, you were happily on your way home.

Though your heart ached for Wooyoung more than ever, you couldn’t help but smile down at your stomach.

“I think you should name them Grey.”

“Grey?”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite color - well actually charcole, but that’s a weird name for a kid.”

You shook your head and laughed as the drive continued, filled with small chat and plans to make the best of things.

“By the way” Mingi started as he pulled into the long driveway down to the cabin, he paused and quickly checked his phone before pointing to a car parked near the house. “You have a visitor.”

Your eyes filled with tears at the sight of your brother as the car came to a stop, you rushed out and over to hug him tightly.

“I swear to god if you ever do that again”

“It won’t happen again. Ever.”

“Promise.”

“Promise. We’re going straight.”

San explained how Wooyoung had made a deal with Leeknow’s people to get them out of the game and in exchange they would own and operate a car repair shop.

As San continued to speak, your eyes drifted to the cabin door opening and you took off running towards Wooyoung as he walked out.

Tears were streaming down your face as you leaped into his arms, kissing his lips as deep as you could.

“You came back.” You whispered against his lips, pressing your head against his.

“I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

“Good. Ella and her little brother or sister are gonna need their daddy.”

Woo looked down at you with a look of shock and wonder, which you nodded a few times to confirm what he was thinking.

He wrapped his arms around you again, spinning you around as he kissed your cheek repeatedly.

“Get a room!” San yelled with a laugh.

Woo gave him the finger as he carried you back into the cabin and closed the door behind him.

You laughed in his arms and held onto him until he put you back on the ground, “Go get your daughter.” You laughed, giving him another kiss.

“Our daughter.” He whispered.

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 24]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word counter: 3.2K

You let out a long sigh as you stepped out of the building. Looking up at the bright sky, you paused for a bit before heading to your car. You drove home, feeling the weariness start to settle in your bones. It was no surprise to see a pair of shoes at your entrance way when you entered your house.

"Hwa? I'm back." You called out, putting your own shoes away. Seonghwa let out an acknowledgement and poked his head out from the bathroom.

"Welcome back." He wrapped his arms around you. You melted into his touch.

"Are you hungry? I made some potato waffles and bacon." He offered. You let out a hum, standing straight to go to your room.

"After I eat, I need a nap before meeting Yunho later." You informed, putting your bag aside and changing into more comfortable home clothes. Seonghwa fixed a plate for you.

"Sure you're good to go out with him?" He asked.

"Yeah, just need to rest for a bit and I'll be fine." You assured, leaning your elbows on the counter and rubbing your temples.

"He doesn't know?"

"No, not yet. He did offer to pick me up but I told him I'll end late or at least after noon, just to give myself some time." You said, looking at the clock that only showed 10:30am. Seonghwa nodded and put the plate on the counter, alongside the cutlery.

"Have you eaten?" You asked, taking a bite of the potato waffle with some bacon. Seonghwa shook his head, making his own plate and sitting beside you.

"You know I will always wait for you." He patted your head before digging into his own food.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I haven't told him yet?" You ask, nibbling on the edge of a strip of the bacon.

"You know I won't ask... Plus, I know you well enough to know the reason without having to ask you." Seonghwa replied with a feigned scoff of offense, drinking his juice.

"Some times you knowing me too well makes you very unfun." You rolled your eyes.

"That's the point." He chuckled.

"I'm going to do the dishes and go to bed." You yawned, bringing your plate to the sink to wash, silently hoping Seonghwa wouldn't offer to wash them.

But like Seonghwa said, he knew you. He purposely didn't offer to do the dishes because he knew you didn't want to be babied or treated like you were fragile. When Seonghwa was done, you did his dishes too and he waited for you at the counter. After you finished all the dishes, you both headed to your room.

"Set an alarm for me, I don't want to oversleep." You murmured, burying your cheek against the pillow.

"Yes, ma'am." Seonghwa set the alarm and placed his phone on the nightstand. You let out a soft sigh as Seonghwa tucked you in under the blanket. He made sure you were comfortable.

"Thanks, Hwa." You said.

"Get some sleep before you become a grump monster with Yunho." Seonghwa teased.

"And there it goes. You know, I was trying to be nice and appreciative but you just had to ruin it." You glared at him before turning away so he faced your back instead.

"Hmph, I'm going to sleep and ignore you." You said like a little kid and drifted off the sleep almost immediately.

"You act all tough but deep down, you're like a baby." Seonghwa said softly, a small smile on his face. When you were kids, you always protected Seonghwa, being the outwardly tougher one of the two. Taking care of you is how he repays you.

"Sweetheart, wake up. You got to get ready." Seonghwa shook you lightly to wake you. Your mumbled something incoherant and slid under the blanket.

"I can still see you." He laughed.

"No... You can't." You drowned out. Grabbing the ends, Seonghwa pulled the covers back.

"You're going to be late. Don't keep Yunho waiting." He patted your butt, coaxing you to get up. Holding your elbows, he gently tugged you into a sitting position, combing your hair back.

"Alright, I'm going." You yawned and stretched your arms over your head before getting out of bed to go shower.

"Be useful and help me decide what you wear to a carnival!" You said and entered the bathroom.

Any other person would have thought you were being rude to Seonghwa but he knew you were just joking. Rolling his eyes, he opened your closet door to put together an outfit for you to wear. He picked some wide legged pants and a light purple button up crop blouse that had a chinese collar.

"Outfit's laid out on the bed!" Seonghwa knocked on the bathroom door.

"Okay, thank you!" You replied. He went to use the other bathroom outside as you stepped out of the shower. You looked at the outfit that he laid out on the bed, happy with it.

"Too girly?" Seonghwa chuckled as he walked back into the room.

"Nope. It looks good." You smiled. You kept your robe on to dry your hair first. Once your hair was dried, you changed into the outfit.

"You sure you good? I'm sure Yunho will be fine if you postpone." Seonghwa leaned against the wall, sipping his tea that he made and watching you put on makeup.

"I'm fine, Hwa. Don't worry." You smiled. Choosing some jewellery, you put them on and checked your reflection.

"Beautiful." Seonghwa cupped your cheeks.

"Stop~" You whined, going to retrieve your bag and shoes. You wore purple air force 1s to match your top. Yunho sent you a text to let you know that he was on the way. Seonghwa gathered his things too, he'll go home when you leave.

"Some coffee will do the trick." You headed to the fridge. Seonghwa watched you with a raised eyebrow while you poured cold brew into your cup and drank it before pouring more.

"Hey, enough." Seonghwa chided. You pouted, like a little kid that was denied candy.

"Fine." You put the container back. When Yunho texted you that he was downstairs, you and Seonghwa put on your shoes.

"Have fun, love. I'll see you tomorrow." Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, kissing your temple. You wrapped your arms around him, leaning against his chest.

"Thanks, Hwa. I'll see you tomorrow." You said. While you got off the lift on the first floor, Seonghwa got off at the basement to get to his car.

"Hey, Yunho." You smiled.

"Hi, (y/n). You look nice." Yunho smiled back, opening the door for you to enter. You bowed your head as you sat down and put on your seatbelt. Yunho came back to the driver's seat. Opening your bag, you took a small plastic pack out and handed it to him. He blinked in surprised, not expecting a gift from you.

"What is this?" He asked, eyes lighting up in excitement as he studied the pack of treats that you handed him.

"You've been giving me flowers and gifts so I wanted to make something for you as a gift from me. It's peanut butter chocolate chip cookies." You explained.

"I love peanut butter! Thank you." He grinned and suddenly hugged you. You laughed, slowly reaching up to pat his back.

"You're very welcome." You giggled.

"Let's go." Yunho put the cookies in his best seat before beginning the drive to where the carnival was located. You were excited to be spending time with Yunho at a carnival, it seemed romantic.

"Have you been to a carnival before?" You asked, fingers drumming against your thighs.

"Yeah. But the last time I went, I was in high school with Mingi. So it's been a while. What about you?" He asked back.

"I went to some when I was little, my mother liked to go and play the games there, win all the prizes for me. But we stopped going as I got older. I guess it's been a while for me too." You chuckled. You missed going to the carnival with your mother and father.

"Sorry the parking is a little far. I guess they blocked the usual carparks for the booths. It shouldn't take more than 15 minutes." Yunho apologised as he pulled up into the parking lot.

"Nothing to apologise for. Besides, it'll be nice to walk along the beach." You smiled. You both got out of the car.

"It's this way... I think..." He said, checking the map on his phone.

"I trust you." You giggled. Yunho's cheeks turned red at your admittance. He cleared his throat and gestured for you to start walking with him.

"The weather is nice and cool, thankfully." You let out a content sigh, feeling the light breeze from the beach shore below.

"Let me know if you're cold." Yunho smiled softly. You nodded, looking away shyly.

While the both of you walked along the path, there was a nice silence in the air. Whatever awkwardness had dissipated, you both just quietly enjoyed being in each other's presence. And somewhere along the way, the both of you mustered the courage to hold the other person's hand.

"Tickets, please." The person at the entry booth asked. Yunho handed the two tickets and the attendant put wristbands around each of your wrists.

"Enjoy the carnival." He bowed. You grabbed a map of the carnival to see what booths there were.

"Shall we go for these rides first?" You asked.

Seeing that you were the one that suggested going on the rides first, Yunho was silently relieved. Somewhere along the way, Hongjoong had asked Yunho if he knew whether you were afraid of heights.

"Are you okay with heights and rollercoasters?" You looked up at him when you noticed the look on his face.

"I'm okay. I was worried that you weren't and realised that I had forgotten to ask you before suggesting coming here." He said.

"Don't worry. Even if I was, there are many other things to do here together." You laughed. Yunho nodded in agreement, reaching out to laced your fingers again before you set out to find the different rides the carnival had to offer.

"I think I felt my heart drop to my stomach." Yunho rubbed his tummy as you got off the swinging viking ship.

"Shall we go to the disco pang pang before moving to the carnival snacks?" You asked.

"Is it safe? I've seen people fall from the lack of seatbelts." Yunho frowned slightly. Also, he was secretly worried the operator would throw you onto the lap of someone else.

"I'm sure it's safe." You patted his arm. As you stood in the line, you watched the other people have their turn.

"Time for matchmaking!" The operator announced excitedly. Yunho watched in horror as girls were thrown around for guys to catch.

"Yunho, are you okay?" When you placed a hand on Yunho's bicep, he turned to you with a tight smile. He wrapped an arm around you to hug you, surprising you.

"I'm fine. I just want to hug you." He said.

"We don't have to if you don't want to." You assured. Yunho shook his head and waited with his arm holding you close to him. When the previous goers stepped off, you and Yunho stepped on, finding an empty space to sit together. Yunho eyed the other guys that filled up the other seats.

"Are you ready to roll?!" The operator yelled. Yunho put an arm over your lap securely, his arm becoming a makeshift seatbelt for you. Thinking he was scared, you draped an arm over his shoulders.

"Hold on tight." Yunho warned. You nodded, pulling yourself until your side was pressed to his.

"Woohoo!" You let out happy laughs as your body was thrown around from the ride. Yunho laughed, seeing how happy you were.

"Matchmaking time!" The operator began to point at different patrons, both boys and girls, asking if they were single or taken before throwing them around.

"Yes! Protect her! Introduce yourselves to each other!" The operator encouraged as he threw a girl into a boy's lap.

"You, girl in the purple blouse! Are you single?" The operator asked you. You were about to open your mouth to reply when Yunho cut you off.

"SHE'S TAKEN BY ME AND ME ONLY! MOVE ON TO SOMEONE ELSE!" Yunho barked, a frown on his face. With his arm over you and your arms around his shoulders, was it not blatantly obvious that you were not single? He was annoyed that the operator still dare ask you.

"Yunho..." Your hand stroked the back of his head. He turned to you, his frown becoming a charming smile. The operator didn't care and just moved on to the other patrons.

"Hold on!" You were all thrown for another round. Yunho loved how you were genuinely enjoying yourself, laughing loudly.

"Be careful." He held your hand to escort you down the steps.

"Did you hear what he said? That's so romantic. I would want a protective boyfriend like that." Yunho heard some girls whispering to each other behind him.

"So, I'm yours?" You raised an eyebrow at him. Yunho's jaw slacked, suddenly flustered.

"I'm just teasing." You giggled.

"I'm hungry, let's go get some food." He mumbled, holding your hand properly and leading you to the food stands. There was very typical carnival food, a lot of fried food and sweet treats.

"You sit here to keep our seat. I'll go get the slushies, what flavour would you like?" He asked as you both put the trays of food down on the table. Turning your head, you squinted your eyes to see what flavours the vendor had. After giving Yunho your order, he trotted off to purchase them.

"Mom! It's time for the spring carnival, shall we go this weekend?" You asked with a big, excited grin, jumping onto the couch where your mother sat, sipping her tea.

"(y/n), your mother is sick. You should know better than to ask her to go to the carnival." Your father scolded.

"Mom...?" You turned to your mother.

"I already said no. Do you want her to collapse and get more sick?" Your father asked with a deep, angry frown. Your bottom lip quivered as tears formed.

"I'm sorry, mom. I don't want you to get more sick." You hugged her, crying softly as guilt consumed you. She stroked your head.

"No, there's nothing for you to be sorry about. I'm the one that should be sorry, angel. I promise we'll go next time, okay?" She said apologetically, continuing to comfort you. You nodded, that was the first spring carnival that you missed.

Little did you know, you would never go to another carnival again. Your mother just got sicker and it was impossible for her to go with you.

"(y/n)?" Someone calling your name made your memory break. You shook your head to focus again.

"Are you okay?" You met Yunho's eyes of concern. There was a lump in your throat that you struggled to swallow. Not trusting your words, you merely nodded.

"Here." He handed you the strawberry slushie.

"Thanks." You whispered and took a sip. You knew you needed to push aside your feelings and not worry Yunho even further.

"Eat up before the food gets colder." You said to him. Yunho nodded, he was still worried about your sudden change in demeanour but he didn't press the issue. You seemed distraught enough.

After the food was done and you were both full, you and Yunho strolled along all the different game stalls. Unknowingly, you were holding Yunho's hand a lot tighter, not that he minded. He just really wished to know why you were sad or upset. He wanted to make you feel better and cheer you up.

"Young man! Would you like to win this cute plush for your pretty girlfriend?" A stall owner beckoned Yunho over.

"You don't have to." You said.

"Let me prove my sniper skills. All those gaming hours should have some payoffs right?" He laughed. You giggled and nodded, cheering him on as he grabbed the toy rifle.

"Just hit the target down and you win. Easy." The stall owner said, tucking Yunho's money into his pouch.

"I'll win whatever prize you want." Yunho winked.

"Good luck." You shot him a double thumbs up. However, as Yunho aimed and shot out the 3 soft bullets that he had, the target wasn't knocked down.

"Oh, sorry. Young man, maybe next time!" The stall owner said. But Yunho wasn't going to give up. He slammed the money down.

"Again." He stared at the man. But even after going for a second time, the target was still standing and Yunho was defeated. That didn't stop the man. Taking his wallet out, he took out more money and handed it to the man.

"Yunho, it's okay. You know these things are mostly rigged anyway. We can try the other stalls." You said softly.

"No, I'm going to beat it. I'm winning you that toy." He said with determination and frowned, showing just how serious he was. Finally, after a few more tries, Yunho knocked it down.

"I did it!" He hugged you, jumping up and down. You laughed and followed along with his actions.

"Here you go, young man." The stall owner handed Yunho the stuffed golden retriever. He held it out to you with a smile.

"Wait, I want to take a picture of this. Hang on." You leaned back slightly to take a picture of Yunho holding the plush with a proud smile. You giggled at his smile.

"A golden retriever with a golden retriever." You snickered. He had a flat look on his face, thrusting the plush into your arms.

"So what are you naming this one?" He asked, stroking the dog's head as if it were a real animal.

"I'll name it Yuyu!" You looked up at him with sparkling eyes and a big smile. Yunho smiled fondly at you, letting out a laugh of adoration. He was touched that you named both of your new plushes after him. Handing the stall owner his phone, Yunho wrapped an arm around you and posed together with Yuyu in the middle.

"Thank you." You both bowed and went along to the other stalls. You and Yunho took turns paying for the games, focussed more on having fun rather than winning more prizes.

"Shall I win something for you now?" You teased.

"I'd much rather continue to beat you at games." Yunho shook his head with a mocking smile.

"You practically spend all your free time gaming! Of course you will beat me at all these." You glared at him while he just gave you a cheeky expression.

"I'll let you win some, okay?" He wrapped an arm around you as you continued walking.

"Don't patronise me." You rolled your eyes but made no move to get out of his hold. You felt secure and safe with Yunho's arm around you, almost like you could feel how he protected you.

And for some reason, you just never wanted him to ever let you go.

~

Series masterlist

[thatssonanii]

Chapter Thirteen

A/N: The highly requested and anticipated chapter! Yall I been working on this chapter for soooooo long, I just couldn't get it to flow but I finally got it! Pay attention when you're reading😌 ⭐LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG & SHARE⭐ Enjoy!

Warnings: Cussing, light smut, 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

DO NOT REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE AND CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN!

Masterlist

Chapter Twelve

Flashback #2

Dating again was something Hassan never thought he'd do but now that he was, he realized he was lying to himself when he would say that he was okay without it. Deep down he was a romantic, a lover and needed to give that to someone special. The deterioration of his marriage hurt more than he'd vocalized, living on the other side of the country away from his daughter hurt even more but he knew when the end came there was no comma. Nadine once the apple of his eye was now rotten but he would always love her for giving him his babygirl. His babygirl being the reason for everything he did since her birth which funnily included dating again. He wanted to show her that moving on and away from the things Nadine had done was possible. Healing is what he chose for him and his daughter which is why he was preparing himself for another date with Tamara. 

They, mostly him, had been dancing around what they obviously were but he planned to change that. Having spent most of the day getting a few gifts, her favorite flowers and making sure his house was up to par, Hassan was going to lock them down. 

Standing in his kitchen, he cut zucchini to roast when his phone rang interrupting him and his music. He glanced over to see it was Nadine facetiming him. After not hearing from her for a couple of weeks, he wasn't exactly excited to hear from her but answered it nonetheless. 

Being met with silence made him roll his eyes knowing what she wanted. “I'm cooking, Nadine. I can't look at the phone.”

“Mmm okay,” she conceded. “What are you cooking?”

“Lamb shoulder, mashed potatoes and zucchini.”

She hummed in surprise. “Oooh, I should've flown in just for dinner. Your parents coming over or your sister and her husband?”

He glanced at the phone, seeing her expectant face. “What's up, Nadine? You wanted something, I can tell.”

“You know me so well after all this time,” she laughed softly. 

“That's what happens when you're with someone for 20 years, married for 14. I'm listening, I don't have a lot of time.”

There was a brief pause on her end which he allowed. A sigh escaped her before she spoke. 

“Gabi came here not too long ago, unannounced, and she said something to me that I wanted to check with you about.”

“Don't say unannounced like that's not still my house and like you don't and haven't done your share of pop ups at her house.” He continued cutting. “What did you wanna check with me about?”

“She said that you're seeing someone and it's … it's serious. But I know you would've told me if you were.”

Stopping what he was doing, Hassan went to stand in front of his phone that sat propped up on the counter. He folded his arms across his chest, staring at her. 

“We're not married anymore and we're not friends so I'm not sure why you would think that I would tell you what I'm doing.”

He could tell that she was taken aback by his words but he had to let it be known. 

“Yes, we're not married but I'd like to think that we were friends, San.” She explained softly. “So you are seeing someone seriously then?”

“I am.” He answered. His voice was as cool and calm as always. 

The panic in her eyes almost made him feel bad but that went away quickly. He watched her get up from her seat and pace for a moment before coming to stand in frame with her hands on her hips. 

“I can't believe you would do this, Hassan.”

“Do what? Move on with my life?” He asked, stroking his beard. “We've been divorced for over ten years now, Nadine. I honestly should've done it sooner.”

Even though she wasn't as close to the phone, he could still see the tears that fell from her eyes. They were real and he knew it but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

“Why? I thought,” she mumbled in distress.

“You thought what?”

“I thought … we were still in this. Do you not love me, Hassan? I was your wife.” She cried. 

He stared at her with a brow raised. “Is that really what you thought? Nadine, I will always love you for giving me Moriah but I don't love you in that way that you want me to anymore. And I haven't for a long time.”

“What? How can you say that after everything?” She asked in a whisper. 

“After everything how can you think that I would wanna be with you again? Disregard what you did to me,” he responded. “Think about the way you’ve tortured our daughter all these years. I could never love someone that's done the things you've done to someone that came from you, Nadine.”

Her tears at this point were streaming down her face, she didn't bother to wipe them. Her heart was breaking, crumbling piece by piece. 

“I did what I needed to protect Moriah. I was helping her and you hate me for it. What was I supposed to do?”

“You weren't protecting or helping her, Nadine. You were torturing her because you were mad at me.” He retorted, ignoring her tears. “Even though it's damning, let's sit aside the abortion, let's sit aside you making her babysit and working in that daycare and the other things. The camp you sent her to, let's talk about that.”

Nadine stopped her loud sobbing and brought her hands down from her face to stare at him. Shock was displayed all over her making Hassan chuckle. 

“How did you know? Who told you?”

“Well let's see,” he paused, “Before Rye told me, your mother called me when she was on the way to pick Rye up after Kami told her. I've known for years, Nadine. Do you know what they did to her there? Of course you do, that's why you sent her there.”

She shook her head repeatedly. “Moriah needed help! She was going to be another statistic, San! The sneaking out, having sex with whoever, that baby … she was out of control!”

“Don't bring up my grandchild. She was not out of control and you know it,” he spat. “She snuck out with Zilla a few times, she had sex with only Zilla. You're trying to spin it into something it wasn’t. Her grades were good, she was still in her activities and never got in trouble.”

“You weren't there! You don't know!”

“I know everything about my daughter, Nadine. It's your fault that I wasn't there no matter how much you try to make me the bad guy.”

“You picked that job over me and our daughter. That's why you weren't there.”

“That's why? It wasn't because I was taking a pay cut for the first two years? It wasn't because you didn't want us to bring Moriah with us to Georgia, that you wanted to leave her with your parents because she was too much of a hassle? It wasn't because you didn't wanna leave the man you were fucking? You sure it wasn’t any of those reasons, Nadine?”

“Hassan, those first few things may be true but I never cheated on you! Never!”

He gave her a relaxed smile. “You sure? I've known for years. You think I don't know the real reason you all of a sudden didn't like Zilla and his family?”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't like them because they were steering you and Moriah wrong.”

“That's not it, sweetheart,” he said calmly. “You didn't like them, Eddie specifically, once you found out the man you were fucking was his cousin and you knew he would tell me so you wanted to get us away from them. That's why. Isn't that right?”

“I'm not doing this with you. He lied to you. I can't believe you believed him over me.”

He shrugged. “You should just be lucky I was nice enough to keep that secret among all the others.”

Done with their conversation, Hassan ended the call and took a deep breath. The secrets he held onto for the sake of her and to some extent Moriah were feeling heavier than usual. It felt good to get two off his mind. He hadn't breathed a word of her infidelity since Eddie had told him and he met the man. Initially, the revelation damn near broke him down but now he felt relieved. He took a moment to get himself together then went back to cooking. Although his conversation with Nadine was unexpected and deeper than he anticipated, he was glad it happened because it solidified his feelings of wanting to make his and Tamara's relationship solid and defined. 

“It's been far too long since I've seen this lovely face.” Trenice exclaimed seeing Leata. She abandoned her shopping cart to go hug the other woman in the middle of the aisle. “How are you, sweetie?”

“I'm … I'm doing okay. How are you, Mrs. Parker?”

Trenice hit her arm playfully, “Girl, I'm good but we are family. Trenice will always do. And who is this little beauty?”

Leata smiled down at Sienna briefly. “My grandbaby Sienna. This is Auntie Rye's Umi, SiSi. Tell her hi.”

Sienna waved excitedly. “Hey, Auntie Rye's Umi!”

The older women laughed at her greeting. Trenice leaned towards the shopping cart to hug the little girl, placing a kiss on top of her head. 

“You can call me Umi, too, sweetie.” Trenice winked at her before turning back to Leata. “Back to you, I heard that hesitation. Since I'm sure everything is okay with my two grandbabies, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's my oldest daughter. Am I right?”

She was hesitant to confirm. They always had a good relationship but Nadine was still her daughter at the end of the day. 

“It's okay, you can tell me. You've known me long enough to know it won't offend me.” Trenice assured noticing her hesitant pause. 

“It's her. I love Moriah like she's my own flesh and blood and I don't understand. The things she's done are just horrible. The more I find out, the more disgusted I get.”

Trenice moved to rub her back, noticing the tears pooling in her eyes. “Trust me, I understand. Nadine is my flesh and blood but very often I wonder where she gets this from. She wasn't always like that and I know you know that.”

“She was one of my best friends and I just don't know who she is now and haven't for awhile.” She paused to dab at her eyes. “And then I feel awful because I was around Rye and couldn't tell that something more than I already knew was going on.”

“Listen to me,” Trenice demanded softly, still rubbing her back, “I knew almost everything and there still wasn't much I could do so I understand your feelings. Nadine knew there wasn't much we could do especially since Moriah rarely reached out.”

“Which pisses me off even more because despite what Nadine did to her, Moriah still protected her.”

Sienna watched them noticing the body language change. “Nana, you sad? What's wrong?”

Leata quickly shook her head, “I'm not sad, baby. I'm happy cause I haven't seen you and Auntie's Umi in a while.”

“Oooh okay, Nana. But still don't cry. Kay?” 

“We should talk more about this in private. I'll be in town for the next two weeks helping Kami house hunt. Call me and we'll set something up.”

“Yes ma'am,” Leata answered, leaning to hug her. 

“I mean it. If you don't call me, I'm gonna call you.” She smiled then kissed Sienna's head. “I'll see you later, sweetie.”

With the thought weighing heavily on him, Bronco went looking for Gia. The way she was shamelessly throwing herself at his friend wasn't sitting right with him and he knew it made not only Moriah uncomfortable but Zilla as well. He searched backstage until he found her. 

“Of course she watching his match,” he mumbled, going to stand beside her as the monitors. He glanced briefly at her, noticing the small smile on her face. “What's up, Gia?”

“Oh hey, Bronco. Nothing, just watching Zilla. He looks good out there.” She answered not taking her eyes off of the match. “Wrestling wise I mean.”

‘Uhuh. We gotta talk.”

“About?” 

The two of them spoke without moving their attention from the monitors. Gia because she didn't want to take her eyes off of Zilla. Bronco because truth be told, he couldn't stand to look at her too long. 

“Whatever you tryna do with Zilla. He's been more than clear that he's not interested but you keep trying him.”

She smiled. “What are you talking about, Bronco? Him and I are just friends.”

“Barely,” he slid in quickly. “Whatever you're tryna do, just chill.”

“This match really should've been the main event. Don't you think so, Bronco?” She asked, turning to look at him. 

He turned to look back. “Did you hear me?”

“Did you hear me?”

“This not the time for games. Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you but it sounds like to me one of two things or both are happening.”

He sucked his teeth, snarling at her. “What?”

“Either lil miss Moriah is worried that I can take her spot or you know Zilla wants me and you're trying to play mediator. Hmm so either way whatever you think I'm doing is working.”

“Girl, what the hell? Are you delusional? None of that is true.”

She shrugged, turning back to the match in time to see Zilla get illegally rolled up. “It's okay. I know you liked them together but it's bigger than you. You can't keep them together. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go get ready for my segment.”

Bronco stood dumbfounded as she walked away from him. He thought she would resist a little but accept what he said. Her reaction was puzzling to him but he realized Zilla was in way more trouble than he initially thought. 

“Oh my gosh, San. I am stuffed.” Tamara laughed softly rubbing her full belly. “You been hiding your cooking skills from me.”

Hassan smiled bashfully. “I wouldn't say hiding them, you just always volunteer to cook. Who am I to shut down your wants?”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah well next time we stay in, you're cooking. And if you keep cooking like this, I won't ever leave.”

“Speaking of never leaving,” he paused to sip his wine, “I want this thing we're doing to be permanent. I don't want anybody else.”

Tamara raised a brow leaving onto the table, laughing softly. “This thing? You mean dating?”

“Yes that. What would you say to us making things official?”

No matter how she tried to fight it, a smile spread across her face and warmth spread through her body from the rush of happiness she felt. 

“I would say what took you so long.” She laughed at his playful frown. “But I would like that a lot actually. I know why you were hesitant, I get it but I am not her and you are not the person you were when you were with her.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I got you.”

“And as much as I know you’re going to hate this, I wanna meet Nadine.” 

He stared at Tamara for a moment wrestling with the thought in his mind. The women he’d dated previously had no desire to meet her after hearing about her from him and Moriah and after hearing conversations between the divorced couple. And even if they did have any desire to meet her, Hassan would not have it. Too much of a hassle.

Reaching across the table, Hassan took her hands into his, rubbing them lovingly with his thumbs. The action brought a smile to her face, she also knew there was some form of rejection to follow the gesture. 

“I really don’t see the need for that, T. Moriah isn’t a kid anymore, that would have been the only reason I would put you in that situation.” He explained softly.

“San … I know that you think that you’re protecting me by not allowing me to meet her and I appreciate that,” she squeezed his hands gently, “But you don’t need to do that. She needs to know that this is serious and I’m not going anywhere so she can let up on those unrealistic expectations she has. Give the final nail to the coffin that was your marriage.”

To say he was speechless would be an understatement. The calmness in her voice almost put him at ease, the fire in her eyes though, that told him she meant what she said and she was serious.

“I don’t think that it’s a good idea to put you in the direct line of unnecessary stress,” he chuckled hearing her huff, “Wait there’s a but. But this sounds very important to you and you do make a very good point so I will make it happen.”

Her smile has returned and grown even wider. “Great. When?”

“Soon, beautiful.”

“Aht,” she sassed, pulling her hands from his. “I’ve heard you use that ‘beautiful’ card with Moriah enough to know you’re placating me. Nope. I want an actual date and time.”

He laughed heartily, going to take a sip of his wine. “Alright, alright. How about next weekend?”

“Book the flight now.” She pressed.

“In the middle of dinner?” He asked slyly. Looking at both of their near empty plates, Tamara gives him a pointed look that makes him laugh and pull out his phone. “Alright, alright, Ms. Lady. Doing it now. You prefer early or late flights?”

“Early. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he responded lowly, his focus was on his phone. “Any other demands?”

“Yup, I have one more since you asked.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t tell her that we’re coming.”

Hassan’s eyes slowly looked up from his phone, putting his focus on her. “Don’t tell her?”

“Don’t tell her.” She repeated firmly.

After the show, Zilla and Bronco went to the hospital to check on their girlfriends. They sat in the waiting room until their girlfriends had a moment to talk. The emergency department was much busier at night than they thought.

“Listen before they get done, I gotta tell you something.” Bronco whispered, making Zilla frown.

“What? And why the hell is you whisperin’? Ain’t nobody over here.”

“Cause Toni got some good ass ears, bro. Ion need her to hear this shit and tell Rye.”

“Aight, I guess. What’s up?”

“I went to talk to Gia during your match. And excuse my language but that bitch delusional,” he whispered. “It's like the whole time I was talking she heard what she wanted to hear.”

He frowned at the thought. “What she say?”

“She said that either Rye knew she could take you or you want her and either way, what she was doing was working.”

“The hell? What you say to her to make her say that?” Zilla asked, pulling his buzzing phone from his pocket. 

“All I said was to chill out cause the shit wasn't gonna work and you made it clear you ain't want her.” Bronco recounted. “That's it but somehow she got that. She said it's bigger than me that I can't keep yall together.”

“The fuck? Now when Fat beat her ass, ion wanna hear shit.”

“Fucked up thing is, she prolly won't take that warning either. That bitch looney. Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll move her to main roster.”

Zilla shrugged. “That won't solve it. I gotta go there at some point.”

Bronco thought for a second then smiled. “I got it. Trick single, maybe we can talk her up to him and get him to get her attention. If she got her own man, she won't be worried about you.”

“You think it'll work?”

Bronco shrugged, “Don't hurt to try. Who texting you?”

Rolling his eyes, Zilla texted brothers back then sat the phone down again. “Ma, my brothers, and Josh.”

“Which one you rolling your eyes at? I know it ain't Ma.” Bronco joked.

“Nah, nah.” He smiled thinking about her. “It's Josh. Ever since we got into it at Jon house, he been textin me.”

“Oh yeah. You never told what yall got into it about.”

Zilla quickly responded to his mother’'s message. “He don't like Fat. He think that she gon end up like Ms. Nadine and that I should leave her for Gia or somebody.”

“He don't like Rye?” He asked with a frown. “That's strange as hell. She ain't shit like her moms from what I been seeing.”

“And that's what I was sayin. He kept going, then when he brought up kids, I snapped at him.” He shook his head thinking of it. “I promised Fat I wouldn't say anything about it but he pissed me off, I told them about the abortion and her having her tubes tied.”

“Damn you must've really been pissed off. He textin you to apologize?”

“Yeah but he still tryna get me to hear him out.” Zilla answered, shaking his head. “Anyway, though, we can talk to Trick tomorrow. Sooner we do that shit, sooner I get her the hell away from me.”

Bronco laughed, slapping hands with his friend. “Hell yeah. Cause I can’t deal with that shit too much longer.”

“Deal with what shit?” Toni asked.

She and Moriah entered the waiting room finally getting a break from the overflow of patients coming in. Bronco gave his friend an ‘I told you so’ look before they moved to hug their girlfriends. 

“What’s up, old lady?” Bronco joked, kissing her head.

She hit him in his stomach laughing. “I got your old lady. Answer my question.”

“You nosey as shit,” he laughed, “Doing extra shit in practice cause they keep messin’ up.”

“Mmhm and so are you.”

Zilla stood with his arms still wrapped around Moriah, hugging her tight, keeping his face in her neck. She giggled trying to get him to let go.

“Zay, that’s enough.”

He shook his head, still holding onto her.

Toni pinched the back of his neck making him hiss and let go. “Always bothering that girl. Stay off of her.”

“She don’t want me to stay off her, mane. Ask her.” He laughed, pulling Moriah back to him.

“Anyway,” Moriah called out to stop their brewing argument, “We been so busy, we didn’t even get to watch the show. How was it?”

“My match was good. His match was aight,” Bronco boasted playfully and they started to play fight. “Aight, aight, you got it, bro. You know she mean as hell and gon put us out.”

“Who you callin’ mean? I am not mean.” Moriah sassed with her hands on her hips.

“I mean you are a little bit mean, girl. Just a little.” Toni laughed, pinching her fingers together.

“You know he wasn’t talkin’ bout Fat. Fat mean as hell but she ain’t gon put us out.” Zilla corrected. “You put us out like four times already.”

Toni scoffed at his interruption. “And yet yall asses still somehow end up right back in here. Ima get yall banned from my ED.”

Bronco wrapped his arms around her, poking his lip out payfully. “You gon ban ya man? If you do that then I can’t make those trips up here that you like so we both gon miss out.”

Toni gasped, hitting his arm. “Why would you say that in front of them? Now his bad ass is about to try and come up here and do that.”

“My bad, baby.”

Zilla frowned again, preparing to give an unedited response to Bronco’s admission but Moriah put her hand over his mouth and pulled him away from the couple. When they were far enough away she took her hand down and folded her arms across her chest waiting for his response.

“You knew they was up here gettin’ busy, Fat?”

“Of course I did. She’s my best friend.”

“And you ain’t tell me? I coulda been slidin up here to see you too. But it’s cool I know now, I know what to do.” He grinned rubbing his hands together.

She shook her head, wagging her finger at him. “Nope, absolutely not. No. That’s why I didn’t tell you. You do not understand the meaning of quick and you do too much.”

“I told you I can try,” he laughed. “ When you get off, we can try then.”

“Boy when I get off, you’re gonna be getting ready to go to the PC. You are not about to blame me for you being late.”

“I ain’t gon be late, I promise. You been straight up here though?”

She nodded, taking a look around the now empty waiting room. “Yeah, I’m never volunteering to switch shifts for a week again. It’s Toni fault, she tricked me. She just didn’t wanna be here alone. Heffa.”

He chuckled, running his fingers through his growing hair. “She was gonna miss you and she knew you was gonna miss her. And she know you would acted like a brat the whole week yall was without each other, man.”

She scrunched her face at him. “You get on my nerves, always tryna make sense.”

“Love you too. But you know that I ain’t what I was askin’, Fat.”

“He hasn’t been bothering me. The good thing about night shift is that when I’m coming in, he is gone or almost off. He doesn’t even leave through the ED anymore. Whatever you and Bronco did, worked.”

“What you mean? We ain’t did nothin.”

She stared at him. “You and him keep saying that but that don’t make it true, Isayah. Me and Toni already know.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you say, bae.”

“Mmhm.That bitch had her hands on you tonight?”

Hearing her tone go from sweet and light to annoyed and heavy gave him pause. He stared at her for a moment trying to contain himself. Although he would never say it out loud especially not to Moriah but the territorial side of her turned him on. If he could see more of it and it wouldn’t fuck up her mood for too long he wouldn’t complain at all.

“What bitch?” He asked biting his lip.

“You know exactly what bitch I’m talkin about, Isayah. That frog eyed bitch.”

He brought his hand to his face rubbing it trying not to smile at her, folding his other arm across his chest. “What frog eyed bitch, Fat?”

Moriah moved closer to him, pointing her finger in the middle of his chest as she spoke. “The frog eyed bitch that thought I was your damn cousin. That one.”

Chuckling a bit, Zilla grabbed her hand bringing it to his lips to kiss it but she snatched it away. “You talkin’ bout Gia? Nah she ain’t put her hands on me, Fat. I ain’t even talk to her outside of the interview I had to do.”

“Mmm, if she know what I know she better keep her hands off you. I don’t wanna have to beat her ass but I will.”

“I know you will,” he admitted in a low voice. “You can take a break right now?”

“For what?” She asked, clearly still annoyed by the thought of Gia.

“So we can go talk real quick, Fat.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “No, Zay. We literally just talked about that. No, there isn’t shit quick about what you wanna talk about.”

“I promise, the way I feel it’ll be quick.”

Holding his stare for a few moments, Moriah nodded and went over to Toni and whispered in her ear. “We’ll be right back. Don’t start.”

Toni nodded, giving her a slight push and went back to her conversation with Bronco, who shared a quick look with Zilla.

Putting her hand in his, Moriah let him lead her out of the emergency department to the lower level of the parking garage to his parked car, both of them getting in the backseat. Not wasting any time, Zilla laid her down in the backseat, his lips finding hers and his hands finding the waistband of her scrub pants, helping her pull them along with her panties down. He leaned up for a moment to pull her shoes off and then her bottoms off completely and tossed them into his front seat going back down to kiss and bite her neck.

“Zay,” she moaned softly, wrapping her arms and legs around him, wanting him closer. A squeal escaped her feeling his cold fingers moving lazily up and down her slit, purposefully not touching her clit. Her hips moved in tandem with his fingers as she tried to control the sounds she made. Knowing she was struggling with keeping as quiet as possible, he captured her lips in another searing kiss. As they kissed, he withdrew his hand from her to free himself from the confinement of his briefs and basketball shorts. He teased her for a few moments, gathering as much of her essence as he could before plunging into her bottoming out immediately. Moriah broke their kiss, her back arching as she gasped loudly at the welcomed intrusion. 

“Baby, baby, baby,” she mewled out. 

Sitting up a bit, he pulled her closer, angling her hips up smirking when she cursed under her breath. “You good?” He asked. His hands caressed her thighs and hips while he waited for her answer. 

She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”

Now having the confirmation he needed, he tapped into his earlier feelings. The annoyance and anger in her eyes that lit a different type of fire within him. He pistoned his hips into her, lifting her thighs so they rested on his forearms making sure she couldn’t go anywhere. His thrusts rocked her body making her cry out to him.

“What you called her, Fat? What you say about her?” His voice was low and thick.

“Umm … fuck … I.” Her voice trailed off into incoherent words mixed with her moans. She brought her hand up to the window for leverage and to keep her head from hitting the door anymore than it already had. “That frog eyed bitch better … shit, Zay … she better keep her hands off you.”

“Yeaaaah,” he drug out lowly chasing his approaching release. “That’s that shit. What you gon do if she don’t?”

Feeling knots forming in her stomach and her body starting to tingle, she reached between them to push at his stomach. “Too much, Zay. Fuck,” she whined breathlessly. 

He smacked her hand away from him then rubbed her clit. “Watch out. Answer my question, girl.”

Moriah twitched beneath him, writhing trying to get away from him with nowhere to go. “Beat her ass,” she yelled out feeling him graze her spot. The realization wasn’t lost on him, he targeted it not sure how much longer he could hold out. “Zay, please,” she begged pulling him down to her.

“I know. I’m witchu.” He mumbled against her lips. “Shit, you want me to pull out?” The thought to put on a condom crossed his mind much too late. Even though there was a small chance that she could get pregnant, he still wore them occasionally.

She shook her head, bringing her hips up to meet his. “Cum inside me.” 

At her words, Zilla lost control, his thrusts switching from measured and controlled to erratic and sloppy, driving them both to orgasm. He shuddered, still thrusting as the both of them rode out their high. He collapsed gently on top of her, his face in her neck kissing her there. After a few, he lifted his head to smile at her. 

“Zilla told you that he could be quick.”

“Boy,’ she laughed, hitting his shoulder, “You got lucky.”

He laughed and kissed her neck and face again. “Shit, we both got lucky.”

“Swear you get on my nerves, Zay. Get off me, I gotta go back to work.”

Leaning up off of her, he eased out of her both of them hissing at the loss of contact. He reached up to turn on the courtesy light. His eyes went from her face to between them, using his index and middle finger to push his cum that started to leak out of her back in making her stare at him.

“What I do, man?” He laughed, grabbing the baby wipes out of the middle console.

She slid up a bit to lean against the door. “You know exactly what you did.”

He shrugged playfully as he took a few wipes out to clean her up and then himself and tucked it back into his briefs and shorts. Grabbing her discarded bottoms, he passed them to her then got out to give her space to put them back on. By the time he came back from the trash can, she was standing outside his car tying her shoes up. When she was finished he held his hand out to her so they could walk back to the hospital.

“So you gon let me try again when you get off or no?” He asked once they got to the waiting room.

“Maybe but I get to be on top this time.”

“Whatever you want, Fat. Zilla only purpose is to please you.” He answered lowly as he brought her into a hug, his hands finding and squeezing her ass.

Toni pushed them apart, shooing him away with her hand. “Alright, that’s enough. I’m gonna need an insulin shot if yall keep that cute stuff up.”

“Come on na, T. You coulda waited a few minutes. I was saying bye,” he laughed.

She looked at her watch then pointed at him. “I gave you fifteen minutes. That was more than enough.”

Moriah and Bronco laughed watching them go back and forth. The two of them argued like brother and sister every time they see each other and then would be the best of friends if it meant going against Moriah or Bronco. 

The phone rang and rang making Nadine’s nerves worse by the minute. With the stress of her conversation with Hassan and the shambles her relationship with Moriah was reduced to, she needed to take her mind off of it. Her head had been pounding from the off and on crying she had done after Hassan hung up on her. The life that she had built up for herself wasn’t turning out the way she had planned. Their marriage had been perfect until Hassan decided to take the job she always pulled him away from. Art and design was great and everything but it was unpredictable, she couldn’t handle the unpredictability of it. Not when he had a family to provide for. She knew he was an expert with numbers and convinced him to go into finance when they were in college but instead of him completely dropping art he had a double major. 

Him in finance and her in speech-language pathology. Their life was great, they could afford the lifestyle she needed and take care of their daughter while still being comfortable. And when Moriah met Zilla, she got the friend she never knew she needed or was missing. She had her husband, her baby, her career, the lifestyle that she dreamed of and a friend. It was all a dream until it wasn’t. 

“Nadine … you there?”

She laughed a little. “Sorry, sorry. My mind is just all over the place right now.”

The low chuckle flowed through the phone. “Is it now? My schedule is clear for the next three days.”

“That sounds lovely but I just don’t feel like the hassle of the airport and all those people in there and on the plane.”

“I wouldn’t put you on a commercial flight. You know better. I’ll send my private jet to get you.”

She snorted. “Private? Since when do you have a private jet? And didn’t tell me.”

“It’s a new purchase. You’ll be the first person I’ll have on it.”

For the first time all day, a slick smile graced her face. “What time should I be ready?”

“I’ll have a car there in about three hours to get you. That should be enough time for the jet to get there. Is that long enough or do you need more time?”

“Nope, that sounds perfect.”

“Good. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my favorite girl,” he cooed into the phone.

“It has, I’m sure we’ll make up for lost time.” She agreed, finally relaxing. “I’m gonna go pack. Thank you, DJ.”

“You’re welcome.”

[sweetbunpura]

After stepping out of Potential.

Kalim: It was nice seeing Jahzi again.

Jamil: Right “nice”

Kalim: We really should all hangout together again.

Jamil: 😠

Round 6!

Start - Daydreamers (Ch. 2) - Junglehearts (Ch.3) - Aqualetta (Ch. 4) - Potential (Ch.5)

Nevemela

"Are you mad, Jamil?" Kalim asks with a tilt of his head. "Jahzi seemed fine with you-"

"This time, he was fine with me, this time." Jamil sighs. "You remember that he used to throw Amur at me constantly, right?"

"I was unaware you had a cousin, Kalim." Rollo voices before the heir could add onto what Jamil said. "I know you had little siblings, but cousins?"

"Yeah!" He beams and places his hands on his hips. "He and his family used to live on the estate until they moved away! It was really nice to see him again!"

Jamil shakes his head and lowers his voice. "Now which one of us is going to tell Vil where he has to go?"

Kalim flinched. "Um...."

Rollo raised an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with Nevemela that Vil has an issue with?"

"My, my." They jolted and turned to see Vil towering over them. "Talking about me while I'm in the room? How shameless."

"H-hey, Vil!" Kalim rubbed the back of his head and gave a laugh.

"Apologies, Vil." Rollo gave a small bow. "We were discussing Neve-mmph!"

Kalim and Jamil shoved their hands over Rollo's mouth and the Scarabian duo slowly turned to see a dark look appear on Vil's face with a twitch of his eye.

"Nevemela?" He whispered. "Potato is in Nevemela?"

"R-Riley hinted at her being in there.... with Neige..." Kalim muttered.

Vil took a deep breath, cleared his face, casually pulled Rollo free of the pair, and made his way towards the archway with the image of a bird on the emblem. Rollo let himself being confusingly dragged along while the model waved Epel and Rook to his side. They entered the portal and the sound of chirping birds filled the air. A chill breeze blew through the air and rustled the trees. In front of them lay a series of small cottage houses encased around the area, creating what looked like a border separating the cottages from the woods.

It was very quiet as it seems like everyone had retired to their homes for the remainder of the day... all apart from a deer beastman coming towards them.

"V-Vil Schoenheit and co!" He stood straight up. "I am Julies Roan, vice leader of Nevemela!" Julies' ears fell. "Forgive us for having no one to greet you as you came in, but Neige was on the phone with his producer."

Vil took a breath. "It's fine. We're actually visiting the dorm to see if Pot-" He corrects him self with a small cough. "Apologies, if Yuu Homura happened to still be here."

"Queen Homura?" Juiles tilts his head as Rollo has to have the back of his shirt tugged by Rook before he can even think of jumping the poor beastman. "I recall her getting frustrated with Neige and the lack of ability to access her phone. She asked who could fix it and I pointed her towards Nimbus. Had I known you were coming, I would've asked her to stay for a few moments longer."

Rook comments. "I'm sure Madam Trickster wouldn't have stayed here for long anyway."

"Right, she ain't too fond of Neige." Epel mutters behind them.

Vil turns to glare at Epel, making his straighten up and apologize, before returning to Juiles. "Then we'll be leaving-"

"Vil-san!"

Vil closes his eyes and sighed through his nose as Neige came bounding up to them.

"....Hello, Neige...."

The youthful looking boy smiled and hugged the model, unaware of the flinch that went through his body.

"It's so nice to see you again!"

"Mmhm."

Neige looks over at Rollo and he feels himself backing up as he spots the boy's bright shining eyes staring right at him.

"You must be Rollo-san!" Neige hugs him next and Rollo feels the wind get knocked out of him. "You're much cuter and prettier in person than Mademoiselle Yuu's picture!" He grabs his face. "Oh wow! And your eyes are beautiful!"

"U-um." Rollo looks to someone for help as Vil steps forward and pulls Neige off of him.

He quickly moves away and places his handkerchief over his mouth.

"If that's all, Neige, we really must be going." Vil hands him off to Julies. "Sorry for troubling you."

"Oh, it's okay! You're always welcome here, Vil-san!"

They head toward back towards the entrance, Rollo's started to get more haggard over this whole "Journey". Vil pulls him aside and motions for Rook and Epel to continue on without them.

"I should've warned you about Neige's eccentric side." He fixes Rollo's hair and adjusts his clothing. "I know how much you value your personal space and he has no knowledge of what that word even means. I'm sorry."

Rollo sighs and nods his head. "Thank you for pulling him away at least. How many blasted dorms must we visit before she's returned to us?"

Vil gives a small chuckle. "You and Potato really are a pair, aren't you? She keeps you in check, while we can not." He moves towards the portal. "Just try not to burn anything out of frustration, Yam."

He follows after him. "I wouldn't have to if they just returned what they stole...."

[serxinns]

Yandere mha x Svarlet reader Extra 1: Hot springs

The reader is gender neutral use they/them pronouns

(the reason why they're going to the girl side of the hot springs is because they didn't wanted to be by mineta and you don't wanna be with a lot of people rn)

A/N: so I've been reading @demonlamb666 Class 1a reaction to mineta climbing the bath to see you and the girls naked bodies and I was like "Man I wish they could make a extended version of this" and I realized "If nobody's doing it Fine ill do it!" so here you go!

This Fic was inspired by the dabble by demonlamb666 if you wanna go on her og then go to here

The class cheered as Aizawa announced that there would be a hot spring to relax in You however didn't you just want to have a summer break and play with your game device all day and laze away luck isn't on your side today now is it

Cmon y/n join our side it'll be fine," Hakagure said while waving her arms around "I don't know guys I don't like the hot springs very much and I'm gonna see y'all naked..." you muttered the last part out in discomfort while clutching your towel but tsu put a comforting hand on your shoulder "we trust you y/n we know your not gonna do anything *kero*""Yea! You not like that disgusting perv like Mineta ur the total opposite!" ochako said the other girls chimed in encouraging you saying it was fun until you made up your mind "Fine fine! I'll join but only for a little the girls cheered and praise you for your braveness

They decided to let you go in 1st so they wouldn't see you and then they decided to go in as well "See isn't it nice y/n" Momo said while giving you a hug "Y/n San feels so warm~" momo thought in her head as the other girls glared jealousy her

the girls and you chatted along while at times splashing each other and giggling at each other's jokes mina brought each ball and decided to play ball-related games like a hot potato, keep the ball in the air, or even volley ball the girls had a little fight over who gets to be in your team but other then that it's been fun unaware that a purple cockroa- I mean teenager plotting a plan

"What I'm here for is beyond the wall," mineta said while holding his towel he then pressed his head up against the wall with a satisfying smile hearing you and the girls chatting and giggling the boys were now focusing on Mineta now confused about what he was gonna do "nowadays, for them not to stranger bathing times for men and women is an accident" mineta continued his speech while the boys were slowly starting to know he was doing "Dont tell me you're.." denki said with a glare while tenya standard up lecturing mineta not to do what he's about to do while Mineta eyes rolling back rolling as he eagerly listen to the other size of the wall (EW EW EWWWW 🤢)

"You're being too fussy" mineta said while reaching for his hair taking a ball out "cause walls.. ARE MEANT RO BE CLIMBED OVER PLUS ULTRA"

And chaos exploded over

"mineta stop what your doing it's wrong!" zuku pleaded while holding him by the ankles "YOU FUCKING BASTARD WHEN I REACH UP TO YOU UR DEAD" katsuki threaten while Shoto created a nice step to help Katsuki get higher Meanwhile Kiri and Denki was fantasizing about what would your body would look like while getting turned on about it while kiri was waiting for katsuki to jump Sero was aiming tape to trying to tie down the grape boy

"What's going on?!" y/n said while hearing the commotion at the other side of the wall "MINETAS TRYING TO CLIMB OVER THE WALL JIROU MOMO COVER Y/N" Shoto yelled while trying to keep Katsuki steady Momo and jirou quickly wrapped you up in their arms while also blushing at the fact that they're touching your warm s/c skin Making the most of it "LET ME GO IM GONNA TOUCH HIM NOT TO MESS WITH OUR LIGHT" black shadow yelled out while trying to come at mineta but tokoyami was holding him back trying to calm him down "DARK SHADOW NO!" As much tokoyami wanted him to do it but he didn't want him to be responsible for him he's focusing on you being safe and sound "LADIES PROTECT Y/N's HONOUR"

"OH IT ON" Mina yelled determined to beat Minets down for your honor, Ochako and Mina nodded to themselves, and while Mina Jumped in the air she slapped ochakos hand to make her float to the top of the wall to drop kick Mineta You stared at the chaos that was in front of you the yelling the screaming honestly it was pretty hilarious to you and you wanted to join in beating Mineta's ass cause why not you wrested out the grip of momo and Jirou and use your telekenies to make yourself float, tsuyu to tried to grab you by using her tongue but you dodge you went and grabbed mina's hand floating her up with you when Mineta made it to the top you both dropped kick him so hard he lost his balance and fell right on top of iida

(Poor boy having a image of that 😅)

Safe to say you were praised for your dangerous but badass stunt the girls were all over how amazing that love was and Mina even suggested you be her training partner even iida praised you but still lectured how unsafe that stunt was for the boys (including Bakugo) was shouting how compliments of how badass or manly it was even Aizawa heard about it and praise you for it and also gave mineta 48-hour detection and gave you extra credit all the teachers heard and gave u praises as well and hawks gave you a high five for it they're never living this memory down

Also, the class planned to pay Mineta a visit when they got back to the UA dorms

[redflagshipwriter]

Hi, it's Tim (just Tim) chapter 6

Masterpost

San Francisco was a breath of fresh air. It would have been better if Dick wasn’t shepherding him there like the world’s most anxious and chatty herding dog. Tim halfway wanted to make a break for it to see if Dick would bark at him.

He nobly resisted the urge. He actually hadn’t gotten in trouble for going no contact. Incredibly, Bruce hadn’t noticed that he had been with Superboy. He must really be wound up about the Red Hood.

Speaking of- “What’s the Red Hood done that makes B think I’m the target to be concerned about?” Tim asked.

Dick looked a little ill. He clearly didn’t want to answer. “Well, he’s been pretty clear,” he said apologetically. “Very clear. A lot of metaphors about breaking off your wings that B is taking pretty seriously. It’s like English class all over again,” he complained. Dick scrunched up his face and gestured wildly with his long elegant hands. “There was this like, poetic reference that I didn’t get, but it was about stomping on a bird and crushing all their bones under your boot. B had to look it up.” He cocked his head to the side at the end.

…This guy was referencing poets B didn't know offhand, and they were meant to think he was some big scary thug?

“...So he’s, uh, well-read, then,” Tim concluded, adding it to the very short list of things they knew about the Red Hood. “Loser.”

“We shouldn’t say that,” Dick demurred, which meant ‘lol yeah.”

Tim gave the older bird a judgemental look for even trying as Dick typed in pass codes for Titan Tower. That was their whole thing as Bats. They took information and made deductions. This particular deduction made him feel cockier. While the big bad Red Hood had been wasting time reading, Tim had been studying the blade and uh, making out with a really hot guy. Heh. He couldn't hold in the self satisfied smirk. Hood was a loser. He could use his time much better than by reading moldy old books.

Dick stayed long enough to get Tim settled, but he was clearly anxious to get back to Gotham.

Tim was torn. On the one hand, he did not like essentially being benched. But… Well, he wasn't benched outside of Gotham, Tim decided, wandering through the shared kitchen and rummaging around for a snack. He could go on any Titans mission that came up. He opened the fridge and squinted suspiciously at something in the vegetable crisper.

He had always assumed someone really liked potatoes. But knowing what he did now, he wondered if those were Kon’s groceries. Did the guy just eat raw fruit like some kind of lunatic?

…Maybe no one kept potatoes there after all. He had thought it was weird since he never really saw anyone cook. Tim picked the suspect up and sniffed at it. This ugly thing was a fruit?

Well. He was brave and he was bold. Tim bit through the skin. His teeth sank in with much less resistance than he expected: not a raw potato. It tasted okay. This was Kon’s favorite flavor? Tim had another bite and mulled it over. It was alright. It wasn’t exactly bacon and artichoke pizza or sour cherry candy, though.

Huh. He shut the fridge door with his hip and made his way to his room, planning to drop off his travel bag.

A window opened and slammed shut nearby. Tim detoured to see who it was. His heart beat hard against his chest when he rounded the corner.

“Superboy,” he said casually, as if he hadn't been making out with the guy a couple hours ago.

“Hey, Rob.” Kon breezed past, obviously lost in thought. He stopped midair and frowned. “Do you smell mango?”

Tim hid the half eaten fruit in his utility belt. “No. Maybe you're just hungry.”

Gaslight gatekeep girlbossing worked, as always. Kon let out a “huh,” cocked his head, and zipped away to the kitchen.

Ah, hell. Tim realized he was smiling like a dope to the empty hallway. He wiped the expression from his face and hoped that no one ever reviewed that section of security tape. How embarrassing.

He hid away in his room for a while, letting tactics and plans stew away in his mind. He was hyper aware of the fact that Kon was somewhere in the tower. Was anyone else? He didn't know. He should check.

While he was at it, he should try and hack into whatever B was hiding about the Red Hood on the bat computer. Tim spun idly in his desk chair as he thought it over. Bruce was being twitchy. He wanted Tim so far away from the situation that Tim knew in his gut it would eventually be his problem. That was how this shit always worked; the most dramatic thing possible would happen.

He emerged from his room to find Kon in some kind of argument with Cassie. Tim decided to stay way the fuck away from that. He steered to the living room. Raven looked up from her book, expression flatly unamused.

“Robin.” She acknowledged. Then she looked away.

She was in a great mood, then.

He checked through the logs: it was just the four of them. As Tim watched, Cassie's status dinged to display ‘out of the tower’.

Just the three of them, then. And Raven wasn't going to come seek anyone out.

Tim went Kon hunting. Kon was sprawled out in his room, tossing something up and down. It glittered where it caught the air.

“Superboy,” he said, leaning on the doorframe casually. Did it look casual? Did it look douchey? Tim stood up straight before Kon looked up.

“Hey, Rob,” Kon said. He flashed his toothiest grin at Tim. Fuck, he was pretty. “Did you want something?”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk. Can I come in?”

Kon sat up on his elbows. “Come right the hell in, my dude.” He cocked his head to the side and a curl fell over his face. “Everything alright?” A smile tugged one half of his mouth up mischievously. “Come sit on my lap and tell me all about it.”

The thing was that Kon said shit like that all the time. He said it to Tim, he said it to Cassie, he said it to any number of civilians. Tim had thought that Kon was just being kind of a bitch to him.

“Thanks,” he said easily, and sat with his knees on either side of Kon’s thighs.

Kon’s mouth fell open. Tim waited, but no sound came out.

“I was actually wondering- you say things like that to me a lot,” Tim continued, feeling very smug. Haha, Kon hadn't just been needling him. He'd been pulling pigtails. He wanted Tim, what a loser. “A guy starts to get the impression that you're interested. And…” he dragged his gaze pointedly down Kon’s perfect body. “I'm not disinterested,” he finished coyly.

“Robin.” Kon swallowed visibly. “I uh. I'm really flattered.”

Ah. Fuck. Tim had a very bad feeling.

“I'm kind of seeing someone at the moment.” Kon’s voice cracked. “If- if I hadn't been, I would be all over this. But I am. So.” His hands hovered uselessly a few inches from Tim’s sides.

Well then. Tim slid off Kon’s lap. He didn't let howling frustration show on his face. He was cock blocking himself. “I see,” he said simply. “No worries. I'll see you around.”

“Right.” Kon’s voice cracked again. He shoved his hands in his pockets. His eyes were wild.

Wow. Okay, so life isn't fair. It was good to know. Tim sulked his way back to his room. Well no, actually, he hated this information a lot. But it was useful for his prediction models. He should have known better than to think things would work out.

On the one hand, Kon was apparently loyal to his flavor of the week. Tim could choose to appreciate that, since he was flavor for early September.

Or he could be mad that he'd apparently chosen the wrong ID to flirt with Kon under. He paced an angry circuit in his room around the pile of things he was going to eventually reconstruct. Hell. Fuck. This sucked. Kon had a crush on Robin, the guy he actually knew. What a wasted opportunity!

He calmed down enough to think.

Of course that was when sirens went off. Tim booked it to the landing pad, pulling up the alert on his wrist computer on the way.

They had a mission. Okay. Tim compartmentalized away all the mortification. He could deal with it after they got back.