#actually quick or not i just could do better

[buckiverse]

☆ warnings: mdni, this is literally just a description of how caleb, zayne, and sylus jerk off and if they watch porn

☆ a/n: I have officially decided all the boys are virgins, so i feel it's only right to write about them yearning for you but also being overcome with guilt <3

☆ Caleb

Caleb has spent so long secretly admiring you, adoring you. All he wants is for you to like him the same—but Caleb is patient. Caleb understands long-suffering and is willing to wait for you. He won’t force you to come to him. You have to want it—this, as he does. With this being said, for a long time, he will not watch porn. He’ll feel bad like he’s betraying you—like you’ll know he lusted after another person. 

When you both go to college, he’d spend more time away from you for the first time, and he wouldn’t even dare to think about letting another woman touch him. He’d even have you act as a liaison, discouraging others from approaching him romantically. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t heard stories of what his friends were doing in bed, the fantasies they were living out—now he was curious. 

He’s not a boy anymore, and this is different—it’s educational, he’d tell himself. When the video loaded, a woman, blindfolded, a vibrator pressed between her folds. Teasing her clit gently. The blush spread on his face furiously as he felt himself getting hard. He watched as she writhed against the toy, but not daring to close her legs as her partner commanded. He could feel the heat spreading across his neck—taking mental notes. He would love to do this to you.

Though he had no experience, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make love to you so good you’d never want to leave. He’d read books and look at fanart, especially of things you like. If you tell him about the latest manhwa you’re reading, best believe he's going to study that shit like no other. You read romance? Well, now he does, too. 

He might even have a whole notepad. Seeing what works, what he likes, what he thinks you might like. He knows you well enough to guess, though he’d definitely ask you directly. 

But when Caleb touches himself, he’d do it with a stolen pair of panties. Sometimes, the washer would eat your socks, underwear, and towels, which was nothing new.

Now, speaking of guilt, he knows this is horrible for him, but he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. But when Caleb saw the pair, unwashed and forgotten in the washer, he couldn’t help but pick them up and stuff them in his pocket. Now he closes his eyes, stroking himself slowly, the underwear in his mouth to muffle the noises from his lips, hoping you wouldn’t hear him. He decided this would do. Using little pieces of you to get himself off. 

He would think of the times before college when he could hear your muffled moans and breaths coming from your room late at night and secretly press his head against your shared wall, trying to listen to you better. He couldn’t wait to use his newfound knowledge on you. He’s just eagerly waiting. 

☆ Zayne

Zayne wants to be romantically involved with you. He desires—yearns for it. But he knows that's not the current state of your relationship and will respect the pace at which you want to take things. His busy life keeps him occupied. He almost relies on it to monopolize his attention since he can’t give it all to you. But it doesn’t stop the guilt he feels—watching porn. 

It takes a lot for him actually to touch himself. He won’t do it often. Yet. It would be an actual internal conflict for him. When he finally decided he was going to watch porn, he would make it quick. The cold metal of his phone in his hand, the dark screen reflecting at him, would almost snap Zayne out of it—but he’s currently wrapped up in his lust. Even so, he still feels like he’s being unfaithful to you—the idea of you more accurately. 

He’ll decide only to watch one while allowing the video to load. He’s just desperate to get off at the moment. It’s almost painful, the way his cock is straining against his slacks. Lately, waiting or sleeping it off hasn’t been working. He’d been so pent up that Zayne stayed hard the whole drive home, and now he gave in. 

It's a short video, but fuck it was hot. The woman squirmed underneath her partner. And Zayne’s pupils blew wide when he saw him suck on her clit, and he could hear the *pop* of his lips detaching from her folds. The groan that fell from her lips when he pushed his tongue inside her—how his arms kept her legs pinned down, though her hips bucked upwards. 

He wanted to do that to you badly. So bad that he closed his eyes, his head thrown back, his lips parted as he leaned back in the chair, jerking himself fast. He had to have you—he couldn’t take it anymore. And he came so fucking hard, and when he finally opened his eyes, he saw the come all over his slacks.

But the guilt was quickly spreading through his chest. It almost feels like he has desires towards the people in the video, but honestly, all he wants is you. He’s never even touched another woman—but still, he felt mortified at the idea that you’d look at him and know what he was doing late at night, imagining it was you there.  

He would never touch another woman. You are all he has wanted since he was a child. Even back then, he only wanted to be connected to you, keeping other girls at a distance even into his adulthood. But maybe now that was catching up to him.

☆ Sylus

Sylus is patient—but only with you. He’d been frustrated for a while. Between your apparent hatred of him and the chaos in the N109 zone, it was slowly eating away at him. Still, no matter how adamant you were about holding your grudge, he’d never be angry with you. Disappointed? Maybe. But never angry.

He loved the game you were playing but wanted—needed—more of you. You were bonded to him, whether you realized it or not. Fated. And the longer you pretended to hate him, the more amused he became. Sylus knew your walls were crumbling, piece by piece.

Like the patient man he is, he waited. Even as you kept those walls standing, even as you unknowingly softened him in ways he never expected—he never sought out distractions. He wouldn’t watch porn. He didn’t need to. First of all, he was busy. Running a city, being a crime boss. You know, important stuff.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t come home late at night, exhausted, missing you. That he didn’t lie in bed on his stomach, the ache of longing settling deep. He might even pull a pillow beneath him, letting it fill the empty space—imagining it was you.

He’d press his weight into it, wishing it were your body beneath him instead. His breath would hitch, a flush burning its way across his cheeks as he rutted against it, slow at first, then more desperate. His fingers would twist into the sheets, knuckles white, your name slipping past his lips like a prayer.

He just felt so desperate. The need for you—your touch, your claim—clawed at his chest, leaving him raw. And when he finally came, hips stuttering in one last, shaky grind, a tear would slip from the corner of his eye.

Sylus doesn’t cry often—if at all. But the thought of you never choosing him? That breaks him.

[sturniqlo]

VALENTINE'S DAY- SHY!MATT X SHY!READER

summary: matt and darlings second valentine's day together

cw: SMUT; unprotected p in v, face riding, oral!f!receiving, handjob (kinda), creampie, use of "good girl" (said once), + some FLUFF; cute couple shit😔

an: surprise!!! i missed matt and darling and they missed you too | also this is darlings underneath surprise for matt

masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist

"okay, put this on." matt held up a bunny sleeping mask he had stolen from darlings room. "what?" she raised an eyebrow and stared at him. the two were currently sat in matt's car parked in front of the cabin they were staying in for the long weekend.

a couple of weeks prior, matt had decided to book a cabin for valentine's day, since it was presidents' day weekend they had an extra day. "put it on, please." he tried to hide his smile. darling hesitated, but eventually gave in. "okay, you better not leave me stranded somewhere." she giggled as she slipped the eyes mask on. "i'd never do that." he squeezed her hand lightly. "wait here, i'll open you the door."

exiting the car, he closed his door and made his way to the passenger side. "gimme your hand, pretty." he held his hand out. "matt, i can't see, silly." she smiled, her hand trying to find his. "oh- right." he blushed, capturing her hand in his. "okay, step out—careful." matt looked down to make sure she wouldn't step on anything that would make her lose her balance.

"c'mon, just hold on t'me." he said and her hand came to grip the red sweater he was wearing. his sweater matched darlings red sweater with white hearts.

before coming to the cabin, they had spend the entire morning and afternoon together. they exchanged their valentines gifts and went to a nice and cozy breakfast place. for lunch, darling made matt's favorite meal and they ate at her house. from her house, they packed up matt's car and went for a quick grocery run and then arrived at the cabin.

"alright, watch your step. there's a small flight of stairs." matt warned her and helped her up the four steps. "let me open the door." he let go of her arm and entered the code for the door. matt hadn't actually seen the inside of the cabin, and he was met with pink and red rose petals along with small candles in the entrance.

"you can take it off now." he stepped behind her and closed the door. darling slowly lifted the eye mask and gasped. "matt—" she smiled, her eyes darting around the heart shaped balloons and rose petals on the floor. "wha— how?" she turned to him with a huge smile on her face. "remember how i went to my dorm to pack?" she nodded. "i actually came here to do this. you like?"

"my love," she pouted. "i love it." her bottom lip quivered. "hey—hey, why're you crying, darling?" he wiped away the stray tears that fell from her eyes. "i'm so happy. this— it's so nice and- ughh! i just love you." she wrapped her arms around his neck. "i love you." his arms came around her waist and he pressed a few kisses on her hair. "you haven't even seen the best part, yet."

"there's more?" she looked at him, her eyes still glossy. "for you always." he pecked her lips. "c'mon." he held her hand and walked her to the dining area. as they approached it, darling could the room glowing. rounding the corner, she saw how he had decorated. "oh matt. it's so pretty." she stared in awe. there was balloons along the windows, a table with rose petals and many pictures of them, and the dining table was set so beautifully.

"thank you." she turned to him, jumping on him and of course he caught her, he always did. "thank you, thank you, thank you." she repeated as she pressed kisses on his face, leaving faint kiss marks behind. "anything for you, i mean it." he scrunched his nose as she left a peach there. matt was able to catch her lips in a passionate kiss as she pecked them. "i love you so much, pretty girl. happy valentine's day." he spoke against her lips. "mm—happy valentine's day, baby. i love you more."

what was supposed to be a quick kiss turned into a heated make out session. matt's hands that held her up were squeezing her ass over her jeans, her hands were tugging thag the hair at the nape of his neck.

"please— let me show you how much i love you, yeah?" he pulled away, his lips red and swollen. "yes— mhm, please." she nodded, her lips coming up to his neck to kiss the skin. matt wasted no time in taking them to the bedroom. the dinner matt had brought earlier crossed his mind, but he didn't care. he could order something new.

as he gently kicked the door open and the bedside lamps were on from when he had first came here. "i was supposed to show you this later, but now is a good time." he gently placed her back on the floor and she saw the rose petals on the bed in the shape of a heart. "you're just perfect aren't you." she smiled, turning back to him. matt chuckled, and grabbed her by the waist. "speak for yourself." his lips dipped down to kiss her neck and he guided her backwards to the bed.

matt pushed her lightly and laid her down on top of the petals. "we're ruining your masterpiece don't you think?" darling gave him a teasing smile. "you really think i care about that when i have you in front of me?" his warm hands slid underneath her sweater. "i guess not." she giggled.

"can i?" matt asked when her sweater was pushed up just underneath her bra. she held back a smile knowing what she was wearing underneath. it was the first time she had actually worn sexy lingerie, as much as she was excited, she was nervous. when matt pulled the sweater up and off her body he groaned when he saw her lacy yet see through bra.

"holy shit, baby. you really are perfect." he threw his face on top of her skin just above her boob. "you like it?" she said quietly. "i fucking love it. you look so pretty." he planted a few kisses on her skin. "does that mean?" he came to a realization and his fingertips went to the hem of her jeans. "matching underwear." she nodded, and blushed. "fuck— can i see?" darling nodded. "go ahead." she gave him permission.

darling didn't have time to blink and matt already had her jeans off. "oh my god. you're killing me here." his fingers raked over her front of her underwear. matt threw her jeans on the floor to meet with her sweater. "so beautiful, so perfect, all mine." he muttered against her warm skin as he kissed up her body. his soft, warm kisses made her whine softly as she wanted more.

matt pulled away, and took his sweater off. "want you so bad, pretty girl. let me have you please. fuck— let me taste you again" he practically whined against her neck, his fingers teasingly nudged her clothed slit. her arousal had damped her underwear. "please, yes— please." she nodded her head, shifting on the bed a bit and she could already feel the rose petals sticking to her.

he slowly kissed down her neck, stopping that the top of her breast and kissed over the mesh material. with his other hand, he brought the material down to expose her tits. his lips wrapped around her hardened nipple and he swirled his tongue around it, while the other one was occupied by his fingers. "oh— matt." she gasped, her hand came on top of his guiding it to squeeze her harder. "you were made for me, my love. so fucking perfect, so perfect." popping off, his hands never left her tits as he continued to trail kisses down her body.

his kisses ended just above her core. she could feel his warm breath so close to her, so close. "let me take my time with you, show you how much i love you, especially today." he kissed and nipped along her inner thighs. matt's arms wrapped around her thighs as his head was caged in. "but—" she whined, trying to roll her hips to get closer to him. "i know, i know." he cooed, sucking so close to the edge of her covered pussy.

"want you to remember this night, wanna show you how special you are." his right arm unwrapped from her thigh and he pulled her panties to the side, seeing her glistening pussy in the warm light. "so wet for me, aren't you." his forefinger nudged her puffy clit. "matt, baby." she watched how he brought the same finger up to his mouth to taste the but if arousal. "so sweet like always." his finger went in for another dip, but this time, he swiped it up from her hole to her clit, collecting much more.

"mm, so good." he licked his finger clean. finally, he dipped down and licked up her slit. "yes— yes matt." her hands few to his hair. his nose nudged her clit and he licked her. it was as if her hips had a mind of its own and started rolling against his face, trying to get as close as possible. matt pulled off her pussy. "no, matt. wha—" she almost cried. "it's okay. want you on my face, sit on my face." her face turned more flushed.

"are you sure? what if i suffocate you." she said and matt crawled up to her, his face above hers. "you won't, but if you do i wouldn't mind going like that." he smirked, pressing a kiss to her lips. "matt—" he cut her off. "please, i promise it'll be like last time." she bit the skin on her lip, thinking and remembering how good it did feel, her hips rolling against his face, his nose nudging against her clit as his tongue dipped in and out of her hole.

"okay, okay." she nodded, matt moved away to let her sit up. matt went to lay on the pillows and noticed a few rose petals on her back as she unclasped her bra. "you got a little something on your back." he giggled, reaching out to pluck them off. she thanked him and discarded her underwear. crawling up to him, she straddled his lap and leaned down to kiss him, she could taste herself on his tongue.

his hands came down to knead her ass. "c'mon, get on my face." matt gave her a light slap on her ass cheek. she gave him on last kiss before moving up to straddle his head. matt almost groaned when her pussy was so close yet so far from his mouth. he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down to his mouth. "oh! matt- yes— mhm, just like that." her hips rolled against his face, her hands came went to hold on to the headboard.

matt looked up at her and saw her blissed out face, her eyes were closed and her jaw was slacked, little moans and whines slipping out of her. "feel good, baby? because you taste amazing." his tongue lapped at her wetness. "feels so good, matt." she managed to let out.

many, many sucks and licks later, her thighs began to ache. "i- i can't." she whined. matt gave her core a open mouthed kiss before speaking. "it's okay, i got you." he patted her hip and she laid next to him. "you alright, pretty girl?" he rolled to his side, his hand running through her hair. "mhm." she nodded, a flushed expression on her face. "i want you." darling pouted, and matt crawled on top of her. "fuck— i want you too." he muttered against the skin of her collarbone. her fingers trailed down his happy trail and tugged on his jeans.

he nodded, granting her permission. she unbuttoned his jeans and matt kicked them off, leaving him in his boxers. "so hard, baby." she palmed him over. "you're killing me, baby." his head fell in her neck. darling gently pulled his boxers down and his cock sprung out in between them. "fuck." he groaned as she wrapped her hand around him.

"please, matt." she looked up at him through her lashes, her hand moving up and down his length, pumping him for a good while. her thumb circled around his leaky tip and his hips jerked "shit—" he bit down in her neck. "i need you." he kissed her neck and she removed her hand from his dick and spread her legs. "ready f'me?" he looked at her, and he stroked his cock a few times.

he sat up on his knees and grabbed her thighs pulled her towards him. with a shriek and a giggle, darling wrapped her legs around him. "mhm, m'ready." matt held his cock and ran the tip up and down her wetness. "matt." she whined impatiently, rolling her hips trying to get more.

"okay, i'll stop." he giggled as he lined his tip up with her hole. slowly, he pushed himself in, feeling her warm walls suck him in. "oh, baby. you're so tight, so warm." his mood instantly changed. "fuck— you're so big." she whined, pulling him down so she could wrap her arms around him.

once he was all in, he stood still for a few seconds so she could adjust to his size. "you can move." she whispered in her ear. "y'sure?" he kissed her cheek. "mhm." matt began to rock his hips into her. he soon picked up his speed and the roll was filled with their moans and the sound of skin slapping together.

"feel so good around me— yeah, shit— keep squeezing me like that." he groaned, kneading her tit in his hand. "matt, matt— oh my god!" he hit that spot deep in her. "it's so good, you're so good. love you so much." she whined, her nails digging into his back. he hissed— in pleasure. "scratch me up, baby. m'all yours. mark me as yours."

his hand trialed from her tits, down to where they were connected and toyed with her clit. "yes! fuck— yes, matt." her hips rolled against his. "darling, i want you on top of me. i'll do the work, promise." he kissed her lips down to her jaw, lightly nipping. the feeling of his fingers on her clit and his continuing thrusts only let her nod.

the thrusts slowed down and he gently pulled out. matt laid on the bed and grabbed her pulling her on top of him. he wasted no time in putting his cock back into her. darling instantly moaned at the new angle. he felt even deeper inside of her. "feels better?" his hips thrusted up into her, his hand came up to her face to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "mhm— so deep." she nodded.

"i love you." matt's hands trailed down her back, feeling a few petals on her back, and his hands landed on her ass to caress her skin. "i- mm- i love you." she kissed his neck. "matt— harder, please. need it harder."

"yeah? want it harder, baby?" he asked as he picked up the speed, "o- just like that! fuck!" the sound of their skin slapping echoed in the room. "i'm- i'm so close. don't stop, don't stop." she whined into his neck. "want you to cum all over me, darling. wanna feel you cum around me." he kissed her hair, his cock buried deep in her.

matt could feel the familiar pressure building up, but he wanted her to cum first. "can feel you squeezing me. you're so close, aren't you." all she could do was nod against his neck, her breathing heavier than ever.

all of a sudden matt felt her go tense and he knew she was cumming as her legs began to shake. "there we go, good girl." he praised her, as he felt incredibly close to his orgasm. "fuck— i'm so close. where do y'want it." he held his eyes from rolling back. "in me, want you to come in me." she said tiredly, yet still moaning. "oh... s- shit." his hips stilled as spurts of his cum painted the inside of her walls.

"holy shit— happy valentine's day, pretty girl."

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ additional authors note ࿐ྂ

happy valentine's day from ME :D i love each and every single one of you guys!! i had so much fun going on a date with matt today ;).... jk :(.... but if ur like me and have no valentine this year... you're my valentine🌷

[w2soneshots]

Valentine -W2S

words: 1.0k+

warnings: none, just fluff!

summary: you and Harry spend a wholesome valentines day together.

notes: hello my loves! I’m single af so here’s a cute little fic I wrote with my fav British boy to make me feel better😌🫶🏼. Enjoy!!✨

Liked by wroetoshaw, taliamar and others

y/username: happy Valentine's Day💌

-comments-

wroetoshaw: sneaky

-> y/username: took my chance while you were distracted by the sweets🤗

faithloisak: gorgeous as always

-> y/username: I 💗 U

y/nfanpage21: balloons AND flowers! my girls living the dream🥹🤍

user: ugh, they're disgustingly cute

I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was red heart shaped balloons. I looked around for Harry but he was nowhere to be found. I was extremely confused for a second before I remembered that it was valentine's day.

Just a few minutes later Harry walked into our bedroom holding a tray. "Good morning love," he greeted with a bright smile before placing it in my lap. The tray had pancakes covered in fresh fruit, a coffee and a card tucked into the side.

I looked up at him. "Thank you. Happy valentines day baby." Harry smiled then leaned down and we shared a quick kiss.

After eating the food, which was delicious, I opened the card. On the front it read, "you're a bit of a twat, but you're my twat." with read hearts surrounding the letters. "Very funny," I mumbled through laughter.

Inside the card was a different story. He wrote, "to y/n. I love you so much I don't think I could live without you (so you better not leave me!)," I giggled as he sat patiently waiting for me to read. I continued, "we have a special dinner at 7 so be ready to get your hands dirty. Love Harry."

"That was so sweet." I set the card on my nightstand and moved over to hug him. "Okay, wait there. Lemme go get your card from me!" I called as I cheerfully made my way into our wardrobe where I'd hidden everything.

I returned just a minute later with a gift bag. "Ooo, what's this...?" Harry inquired as I plonked myself down next to him and passed him the bag. "Open it and see!"

Harry was quick to fling the tissue paper across the room and look inside. "Ah! This is sick!" He looked at me with the cutest and brightest smile. He pulled out the special addition supreme jumper that he's had his eye on.

It wasn't super cute or wholesome like most valentines gifts but he's impossible to buy for so I didn't have many options.

"How the fuck did you manage to get this?" He asked, "it's been sold out everywhere!" I chuckled as he admired it. "I have my ways..."

A few hours later we decided it'd be fun to go and see the movie we've been wanting to watch in the cinema. We both got dressed into some comfy clothes and headed out.

On our way we stopped off at a shop to get some snacks since they're always extremely overpriced in the cinema and Harry loves a bargain. "Which one do you want? Actually... I'll just get all of 'em," he said as he looked at the selection of sweets. I giggled when he stood up with an excessive amount of them in the basket.

After watching the movie we stopped off for some lunch and then spontaneously decided to go bowling since we walked past the place on our way home.

wroetoshaw posted a new story!

"Beat ya!" I smiled when the final scores registered on the board. "By like... two points," Harry huffed. "Don't be a sore loser baby," I teased with a smirk then leaned into him to press a kiss to his lips. "Alright alright," he chuckled, "let's go home."

We walked back to our apartment building, hand in hand. The sun was setting and the air was surprisingly warm for February, in London. I breathed out a content sigh and leaned my head on his shoulder when we finally got into the lift.

"Hungry?" Harry asked me a little while later, while we sat on our couch with a random show playing on the tv, that we definitely weren't paying attention to.

"Mhm," I hummed. He jumped up. "Well, we're makin' pizza!" he said excitedly, "you coming petal?" I cocked my head to the side in surprise. "Oh, Haz. How romantic," I replied with a smile and followed him into the kitchen.

He took his time making the dough while I prepared the sauce and grated the cheese. Just as I was pouring the sauce into a pot I felt a puff of flour cover my shirt.

"Ah! Absolutely not!" I giggled before quickly gathering some in the palm of my hand and blowing it straight into his face. He coughed out a laugh. "Jesus Christ woman!"

He rolled out his pizza into a misshapen circle while I made mine into a cute little heart. We then covered it in tomato sauce, sprinkled on the cheese and added any last toppings.

y/username posted a new story!

After popping our masterpieces into the oven we sat back on the sofa with our drinks of choice and waited patiently for them to finish cooking.

"Mmm... this was one of the best ideas you've ever had," I murmured happily with a mouth full of pizza. "I know. I'm a genius, what can I say." I shook my head as I giggled at his sarcastic cockiness.

"You ready for bed love?" He asked as I yawned. I nodded slowly. I closed my eyes for just a second and before I could even process what was happening I was being lifted into the air, fireman style.

I leaned into my boyfriend's chest and exhaled deeply. He set me down on our bed gently. "I'm just gonna go take a shower. I'll be back in a minute to get into bed with you. Good night, I love you and happy Valentine's Day," he whispered with a kiss to my forehead before I drifted off with a soft smile on my lips.

[heavyhitterheaux]

40-22

See Me Through You Fic

Synopsis: You and your husband watch the Super Bowl along with your best friends in NOLA

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Seeing as Joe was doing a press run the week leading up to the Super Bowl in New Orleans, you decided that the two of you should have a party for it at your new house that Joe had surprised you with as a Christmas gift. A party that would literally only be your best friends, but still a party nonetheless. He had noticed that you were missing being in Louisiana more than usual and it had actually been in the works for him to buy it since the beginning of last year.

In order to get your input without actually telling you about it, he would show you different pictures that the designer was sending Joe and as soon as you had given him the approval, everything was a go.

This was your first time actually seeing the house in person and you immediately fell in love. There was a hallway leading to what would be considered the man cave of the house and the walls were decorated with pictures of both you and Joe at your time at LSU. Seeing this definitely made a few tears slip out that you of course blamed on your hormones being all over the place.

Ja'Marr and Justin of course wanted to see the house and essentially invited themselves over, even though they were going to be invited anyway. You had sent a quick text to Erin and Alisha to see if they were free and they of course said yes to be able to spend time with you.

Joe told you that he could order food so that the two of you didn't have to cook and he didn't want you to be on your feet for a long period of time.

Of course he was met with resistance from you since cooking was one of your many love languages the last thing he wanted was an argument to come out of it. He knew once you made up your mind about something that it was the end of the conversation. But if it was something that he was dead set on not letting go, he had no problem letting you know how he felt. But for now, he would just help you with what you decided to make and make sure you got breaks in between.

As you were making your famous chili cheese dip that you knew was going to go in less than ten minutes, Joe had just finished seasoning the wings and was about to put them in the oven.

He had come up behind you and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on top of your head.

“You okay? And are my other two babies okay?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“Yes, babe. I told you that I'm fine. And they're fine too.” You replied and gave him a small smile before he gently moved you to the side to open the oven.

“As soon as we're done, you need to sit down and put your feet up so they don't swell.”

“Yes, Doctor Burrow.”

“Princess, I'm serious.”

“I know, I know and I promise I will. Just have one more thing to make and then I'll sit.” You replied as you reached up to kiss him.

“What else do you need help with so I can make this go faster?”

“They’re just cheesesteak sliders, but if you can start cutting up everything that would be helpful.”

“On it.”

When all of the food was done, Justin was already in the kitchen so you told him to come and get his plate so that way you could sit down yourself.

“Justin, it’s hot on the bottom, take the sides of it.” You told him as he was reaching for it.

“Uh huh.” He replied as he was still looking at the television and not at you.

“Don't touch the bottom. It's hot, move your hand away from it.”

Justin once again nodded and you decided since he wasn’t going to listen to just let him learn the hard way.

“Ow! DAMN, THAT’S HOT.”

“I know and I told your stupid ass two times not to touch the bottom, but you were so interested in looking at the TV instead. And you better not break my damn plate either.”

“Joe! Your wife was nicer before you got her pregnant!” Justin yelled towards him and Joe looked at him confused.

“Says who!?” Ja’Marr asked as he immediately chimed in and you gave them both a death glare.

“No, Justin, you just like to do stupid shit.” Joe shot back and Ja'Marr stifled a laugh.

“Next time I'm not cooking shit for yall. I can't even see my damn feet and they're probably swollen and I'm stressed because I'll have to probably call 911 messing with both of you. Justin, take this plate and get out my face. IMMEDIATELY.”

“But we didn't ask you to cook since I…”

“Ja’Marr keep talking and I'm going to make sure the next time I cook for you will be at your funeral.”

Ja’Marr immediately threw his hands up in defense as you went to sit down while everyone fixed their plate.

“Damn that food is about to be good as shit. Baby, can I request meatballs?” Joe asked you and you stifled a laugh.

“SERIOUSLY?” Ja’Marr asked Joe as he shrugged.

“No, Joe you got it backwards. It's funeral chicken and baby shower meatballs.” Erin told him while laughing and Ja’Marr made a face at her.

“Not you encouraging his nonsense….”

“Well Erin come through with the meatballs for our baby shower.” Joe told her and she quickly agreed.

“All you had to do was say the word. Consider it done.”

“So, no one is going to mention how my twin is planning my funeral?” Ja’Marr asked the entire room and everyone gave him a blank stare.

“No.” Everyone replied and you couldn't help but to laugh.

“She’s older and she's pregnant? Yeah, not getting into that one.”

“Some friends yall are.”

The game was just starting and Joe told you to sit down while he fixed your plate for you. He made sure you were comfortable with your multiple pregnancy pillows and put your feet up for you.

“The Eagles have one damn job and if they don't come through, I will RIOT.” Alisha said as she sat to the left of you while Erin was on your right.

“You and me both.” You told her as you turned up the volume.

It was during the second quarter when you suddenly got bored. The Chiefs were playing like they had never seen a football before in their lives and you honestly couldn't believe what you were seeing.

“Are they really serious right now?” Justin said out loud and in disbelief.

“Apparently they are.”

“I told yall that they aren't as good as everyone thinks they are. Because they are playing like straight ass.” Alisha added and everyone couldn't help but to laugh.

“Jalen is cute.” Erin said and you gave her a small smirk.

“AHT! Princess, wipe that smirk off your face!” Joe said and you held your hands up in defense.

“But I…”

“Nope, don't even try it. I saw it.”

“I only have eyes for you and you know that! Last time I checked I am pregnant with YOUR children."

"Mm hmm. Sure."

"Such a big ass baby." You quietly said, but he still heard you.

"Want to repeat that Mrs. Burrow?"

"Nope, I'm good." You replied while taking a sip of your lemonade while both Erin and Alisha laughed.

“As I was saying before, Joe rudely interrupted. Have you seen the entire team!? It's a TRAIN. And I wouldn't get off until I had a taste of the entire roster.” Alisha exclaimed, and you couldn't help but to laugh.

"Alisha, I heard that." Joe said, and she held her hands up and acted as if she didn't know what he was talking about.

“You know that there's 52 people on the roster, right?” You asked her and she immediately nodded her head.

“Like I said before, it's a train.”

Joe was on his second plate of food and focused on the game when you decided to send him a text.

Wifey- Baby, I'm bored.

Joey- You don't want to watch the game?

Wifey- Yes, but at this point I want it to be halftime. But in the meantime could you do something for me?

Joey- Of course baby. What do you need?

Wifey- For you to put your dick inside me

As soon as Joe read the text, his eyes went wide and he glanced at you with a smirk on his face as he bit his lip.

Joey- We have seven minutes until halftime

Wifey- I'm not missing Kendrick so we have to do it now

Joey- Go upstairs and I need to teach you a lesson for having a smirk on your face about that quarterback who ISN’T me

Wifey- So dramatic as usual. Just like a Sagittarius. Smh.

Joey- Just you wait until I get you alone

Once you got up, Joe was following your lead and Ja’Marr suddenly made a face at both of you.

“Where yall going?”

"Just going to the bathroom." You told him, but looked at you confused.

"And taking your husband with you?"

"Look Ja’Marr! My whole body is swollen and I can't see past my boobs!" You exclaimed as you crossed your arms and continued walking towards the stars as Joe stifled a laugh.

“Those things are going to be Z cups by the time the twins get here.” Alisha said without hesitation.

"So, you don't know where your vagina is located anymore?"

“Ja'Marr, if your twin wants to get her cheeks clapped by her husband who has clearly done it multiple times before since she's pregnant, that's her business. That's obviously where they're going.” Erin told him and he made a gagging noise.

"Bam Bam, keep talking and I will choke you.”

“Wouldn't be the first time.”

"Unless you're volunteering to wipe my ass, baby brother. By all means, come on.”

“NO! I'm good!”

“That's what I thought and that's why you need to mind your damn business.”

“You're my twin so you are my business.”

By this time, you had reached the top step and rolled your eyes before you responded to him.

“Leave me alone, Ja'Marr!”

“Never going to happen!”

As you entered your bedroom, you were attempting to walk towards the bed before Joe tugged your arm in another direction.

“If I take you on the bed, you know for a fact we'll be up here for the rest of the game and you are entirely too loud. No offense, princess.”

“Hmm, good point. Bathroom it is. And if Ja’Marr would have minded his business we would have been up here sooner! We have like 4 minutes now.”

“Then stop talking and let me take care of my wife.” Joe told you as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

As you were coming down the steps, Erin was grinning and wiggling her eyebrows at you and you instantly laughed at her.

“Nasty ass fuckers. Couldn't have even waited until we left.”

“I seriously went to the bathroom, dumbass!” You replied as you took your rightful seat in between your best friends just in time to see Kendrick come on the screen when Alisha leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“I know that white boy be turning you every way but loose.”

You tried so hard to keep a straight face but failed miserably as Ja'Marr shot you a look.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“You'll never learn, will you?” You asked and he shrugged his shoulders before turning back to the TV.

“Probably not. You know I'm nosey.”

“And no lie was told.”

It was now the third quarter when the Chiefs finally decided to score, which clearly still left everyone unimpressed.

“See that's what they asses get for making sure we didn't make it in the playoffs.” Ja’Marr muttered to your husband who quickly agreed with him.

“Look, I'm just happy that I don't have to look at Taylor Swift for four quarters.” Erin confessed with Alisha letting out a laugh.

“And her boyfriend has done absolutely nothing this entire game.” You added before getting up and sitting on Joe's lap.

You sat to the side so that you could put your head on his shoulder and your feet in Ja’Marr's lap who quickly protested.

“Why are these things on me?”

“So they don't swell. Help a pregnant lady out. And besides I fed you and you're in my house. And I just got a pedicure so leave me alone!”

“She has a point.” Joe said and he crossed his arms in response.

“My going rate for babysitting those two when they get here is 50 dollars. EACH.”

“BULLSHIT. We watch baby uno for FREE.” Joe exclaimed in response.

“Because he's a low maintenance baby! Yall kids are about to be spoiled as hell with big ass heads that look like Joe. That last sonogram picture was wild. Count on having a c-section.”

“HEY! MY HEAD IS NOT THAT BIG!”

“Keep telling yourself that, Shiesty.” Justin muttered and it took everything in you not to laugh. You turned away from Joe, but he could feel the vibration of your laugh since you were leaning against him.

“My own wife laughing about jokes about me, I see.”

“Um, pookie… have you seen your baby pictures? It's always been big.” You asked him and he turned up his nose.

“I…forget about that Birkin you wanted for Valentine’s Day.”

“Hold on! Wait! I take it back!”

“Nope. Damage is done. I'm sleeping in the guest room.”

“Okay Mr. Dramatic.”

“AYE! ANOTHER TOUCHDOWN!” Justin exclaimed as he raised his arms in excitement.

“Andy needs to whoop everybody's ass on that field.”

“I think the Eagles got him covered in that department.”

“No 3 peat is happening at this point.”

It was now the final seconds of the fourth quarter and it was now set in stone that the Eagles had won. They were interviewing Jalen when a thought popped up in your head.

"I can not believe they got their ass beat this bad. I feel like a curse has been lifted." Justin said, and you stifled a laugh.

“I expect everyone in this room that has an NFL contract to be in the super bowl next year. Do with that information what you will.” You said and all three of them looked at you.

“If the front office actually gets its shit together so we can keep everyone we need.” Joe said before rolling his eyes.

“Are we going to make bets? I think we should.”

“Sure when the regular season starts, but my husband needs to take me to Disney World after he wins. And Ja’Marr is on babysitting duty.”

“Fine, 250 dollars an hour. EACH.”

"You must be out of your damn mind." Joe told him in response as he looked at him in disbelief while you were laughing.

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty thoughts, feat. mingyu •

the valentine’s day / co-worker crush one

mingyu has sat in the cubicle next to yours long enough to know exactly how shitty your ex made valentine’s day last year, plus he knows you definitely haven’t even thought about a valentine’s date since you just accepted a stack of last minute work, because to quote you, “fuck this pretend holiday”

but he really hopes to change your mind

mingyu’s had a crush on you since you started working in his group, maybe before that even when he would just see you in the break room sometimes

at first he thought you were a bit unapproachable, but the longer he sat next to you, the more he realized you were a really good co-worker and friend - you always have great ideas for projects and you don’t make him feel like shit for not knowing every single thing like most people in the group, plus you’re always happy to grab coffee when he wants to complain about how something personal

he was glad when you had offered to exchange phone numbers so he could message you “just whenever” - it took him a week to finally decide what to send - a photo proving that he really uses the name ‘james’ as his ‘coffee order name’ because he was tired of the misspellings and you would not believe him - you had practically cackled at ‘james’

he was surprised when you asked if he had a date that night, “no, i haven’t really been talking to anyone” besides you, he thought

“at least you won’t be stuck here all night, though,” you smiled, leaning towards your computer to read something

he nodded, “yeah, true,” even as he spoke, he started to poke around seeing if there were any assignments he needed to complete (he knew there weren’t)

“wait, actually, sorry - there’s this part i kind of need help with,” you mumbled from your slouched over position

he blushed and scooched his chair over to your side of the barrier, you had already moved so he could see your screen - he was glad that you seemed to always have problems with excel functions

he started tinkering with the spreadsheet while you read some documents next to him - before he realized it, he was ready for dinner

he leaned back, “want to take a break?” it was a totally normal question

you nodded, “yes, please, I’m so tired of looking at this,” you whispered and then stood up to look around the office, “wow, it’s like a horror movie in here - absolutely everyone is gone but us”

he smiled knowing you mean zombie movies, which you proclaim to hate but still seem to know a lot about

“so what were you thinking?” you asked as you sit back down next to him - he notices when your knee bumps his leg

“hm, how bad do you think the waits are across the street?”

“oh fuck, i forgot, couples out in droves, right?”

he nods, watching you scrunch your face as you start checking for reservations close by - it takes a few minutes but you’re suddenly grabbing his sleeve, “oh my god, if we leave right now, we can just make it to a decent place,” you practically drag him along

the ‘decent’ place is actually really nice, way more than he was expecting, but he was glad for once that he was in dress clothes - he actually looked like he was your date

they seated you in one of the open booths, another couple were right next to you - he had started to look at the menu when you nudged him with your foot, he glanced up to see you covertly glance at the other couple - mingyu almost laughed when he saw the girl’s foot was practically buried in the guy’s crotch and moving at a concerning pace

he blushed slightly at the scene and glanced back to you, seeing the dangerous smirk on your face, he suddenly felt the toe of your shoe press gently to his calf - he was quick to slip a warning hand onto your thigh, squeezing gently

“i think we can do better darling,” he whispered

you looked too game, “oh, can we, sweetheart?”

he wasn’t sure what to make of your sugary voice, but he knew you were horribly competitive (both of you, if he were honest, could be a bit scary at company retreats)

he didn’t hesitate to nod, “of course we can,” he answered in a low tone, his thumb tracing circles against your thigh

when the waiter came back, you both ordered drinks, but he noticed quickly when the other couple conspicuously got up at the same time and wandered towards the bathroom

he sipped his wine, “did they really just go to the bathroom?”

you giggle, “they definitely did”

he swirled his glass gently, “okay, so if we go into the men’s room after them, do we just need to be louder?” he was genuinely asking

you laughed behind your hand, “seriously?” you grinned, “it’s not like we get a peleton this time,” you shoot back, voice soft in a way that makes his stomach flutter

“yeah, but,” he wasn’t sure where he was going with this, “they were annoying, why not be, you know,” he shrugged

“be more annoying, my darling, dearest,” you smiled and covered his hand with yours

he flushed but had a sudden thought, “look if we freak them out, i will literally pay for a full weekend at that glamping place you keep ogling,” he was very serious

“oh, okay, no wait, it has to be the one with the hot tub that overlooks the trees,” you were getting serious

he nodded, “i’ll give you my card, book whatever you want,” he was too sincere

he noticed the slight blush blooming across your cheeks, “you know it’s like a couples thing, right?”

“so, you can book for two and go alone, whatever,” in his mind this was completely reasonable to offer a co-worker who he clearly had just a crush on, especially when he hadn’t confessed

he watched you bite your lip lightly, “okay, but shouldn’t we both go? it’s like a group activity,” he flushed, knowing you’re looking at him much too clearly

“just come on or we’ll miss our chance,” he stood, glancing around and walking towards the bathroom

he pushed the door open and was immediately assaulted with sounds, really wet sounds

he caught you as you walked through the door, knowing you would laugh at the sounds, he pressed his hand across your lips and guided you to the stall next to the occupied one, locking the door

you glance at the stall wall, rolling your eyes at the sudden feminine cry of “oh, baby - yeah, just like that”

you lean close to him, “make it good, okay,” you whisper, your hands suddenly ghosting down his chest and stomach

he’s shocked when you ran your hands down the front of his trousers, “fuck, daddy, show me how hard you are,” you say in a breathy voice as your hands press roughly to his hips

he bit his lip hard to avoid laughing in total shock, “that what you want baby girl, my hard cock filling that tight pussy?” he asked, his voice lower than he expected, even though he was leaning down close, whispering against your throat, obviously in character

“mhmm, yes, i want you so badly - i’ve thought about it all day, daddy - i’ve just been sitting, waiting for you, all wet and ready for your cock”

he paused hearing this, his mouth immediately dry, he could feel your hand working him through his pants

he kissed your throat gently, “daddy’s good little girl, just waiting at her desk, hoping to get fucked,” he nipped your earlobe gently, “my naughty little girl,” he whispered as he bit your throat

he was momentarily stunned when you pulled your shirt down enough to expose your tits and your perfect nipples, but he didn’t even think before he dipped down, latching onto one and then the other, hearing your moans, as he licked and sucked “yes, daddy” - “yeah, just like that” - “fuck, i bet you could empty me”

he leaned up, catching your mouth in a soft kiss, he licked into you, tasting you as he pushed up your skirt, his cock was way too hard at the idea of your full tits

he slid his fingers under the hem of your panties, immediately feeling the slick waiting for him, “oh, baby, so wet for me,” he barely broke the kiss to murmur

he watched your face as he plunged his first two fingers inside your hot, wet pussy - you gasped softly, pulling his hair roughly as you did, “yes, daddy, play with me, you’ve kept me waiting so long,” you whimper as he crooked his fingers to hit the soft spongy spot he knew your ex had never been able to find

he had completely forgotten the other couple - all he cared about was the way you were writhing in pleasure in front of him - that and the way your cunt was clenching around him, it was so fucking tight and already dripping

he pressed close, “come for me baby girl, i can feel you holding back, just let go, make a mess for daddy to clean up,” he whispered

you pressed close, “give me one more finger first,” you breathed heavily against his skin

he was happy to slip his third finger in, stretching you and then scissoring you open too, pressing against your tight walls

you moaned loudly, “oh, fuck, yes - daddy, don’t stop, make me feel good”

he wasn’t worried about how loud you were - it was part of the point, but when your pussy suddenly gushed, “fuck,” he breathed, feeling your juices wet his thigh

he held you close as he he still worked his fingers inside your pussy, you yelped as a second orgasm tore through you, a new splash of hot pussy juices running down his thigh as you shivered with pleasure in his arms, grasping blindly for him, needing him to hold you as your orgasm worked through you

“mhmm, daddy, oh, fuck, did i do good?”

he was quick, “yeah, baby, you’re so perfect, so messy and wet for me,” he pressed soft kisses to your cheek, nuzzling close to you

it was obvious that you were more fucked out than either of you expected - he definitely didn’t hear anything from the couple in the other stall, but he wasn’t especially concerned either

he suddenly turned you around, pulling your back to his chest, as he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, “still want daddy’s cock, baby girl?”

you nod, “yes, please, use me like a toy, make me yours”

he breathed slowly, lining his cock up with your cunt, he needed to control himself or he would come too fast

he plunged in, pausing to breathe, to feel your slick cunt stretching so wide to take all of him - he listened to your whimpers and soft pleas as you adjusted to being full

but he waited to move - and when he did, he was slow at first, feeling every bit of you squeezing him, wanting him

and when you leaned back, “fuck me daddy, fuck me like you want”

the way you gazed up at him told him everything - that you knew - you already knew exactly how he felt

and so he plunged in, setting a quick pace, not being afraid to snap his hips - he wanted to fuck you raw

and when he felt you clenching and fluttering around him, he pulled you close, holding you tight, and reaching down to work your clit, he gasped at the feeling of your third orgasm, the feeling of your slick against the head of his cock was too much

he came, he clenched his teeth together tightly, moaning low against your skin, his cum filling you, he kept moving, slowly fucking his cum deeper into you

“keep it inside baby,” he demanded, breathless, finally letting you go

you nod with a little smile, “what do i get if i do?”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, and fixed his pants

he helped you fix your clothes, glancing to see how massive your pupils were

he stopped and nuzzled close, feeling nothing but tenderness for you, “want to leave?”

you nodded, holding tight to his lapels, “can we still fuck though?”

he smiled, “mmmh, of course we can baby - we can fuck all you want,” he kissed you softly - he meant every word

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨

a/n: happy v day - if you’re not getting fucked tonight, just think of mingyu ^^ we all know he would do it right …every time

♡ kat

tags: @syluslittlecrows

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

[cugzarui]

future self here: read the article it's pretty good. anyway down heres my take before i finished the article

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

ok imma make the post while reading the article

this reads more like something thats meant to make you outraged than something that makes a genuine attempt to analyze the lightning thief. ragemongering if you will.

Now why the hell would the Greek gods ever live in America? Great question. Here’s where it starts to get real ugly real quick.

is it though? is it really? cuz im pretty sure the real world reason is to have an excuse to make the series happen in America (the home of the target audience) as opposed to greece (not the home of the target audience). and the in-story reason is just whatever lets you justify this in-universe.

Chiron who had been previously disguised as a Latin teacher in a wheelchair—presumably to better hide his… horse parts? I’m not sure

yes? it has admittedly been a while since i read those books but im pretty sure that is the cannon in universe reason why he uses a wheelchair. did you read the book?

ok reading further they start bringing up actually relevant points that do support their claim. im not gonna copy all of that but i will respond with: it is still a book about the greek gods and is based on greek legends. idk if you forgot but greeks are white europeans. legends about demigods tend to have exceptionalism as part of their main themes. often explicitly. yea unless you're writing some really sanitized story, basing it on greek legends will probably make it at least a little problematic.

i didnt know that bit about western civilization being a new concept. that is a good point:

This emphasis on the power of western civilization — a concept that didn’t emerge until the 19th century and was bound up in “imperialism and colonialism, white supremacism, classism and exceptionalism” — absolutely pervades The Lightning Thief,

lets keep reading -

It is perhaps tempting to write this off as a common — albeit indelicate — narrative technique. Riordan is writing for Americans, so he crafted a narrative focused on Americans.

oh i was anticipated.

the promotion of a (falsely) white ancient Greece and Rome is not limited to The Lightning Thief. White people love narratives wherein Greeks, Romans, and their gods are white

ok yea ancient greece wasnt just white people. still they were definitely europeans. actually let me just google this real quick -

What races lived in ancient Greece?

Hellenes

Central and Eastern Greek tribes (Aeolians, Achaeans and Ionians) ...

Western Greek tribes (Dorians and Macedonians) ...

Macedonians-Magnetes.

https://en.wikipedia.org

List of ancient Greek tribes - Wikipedia

that doesnt help much. a bunch of ancient greek tribes i don't recognize. hmmm maybe if i go into the article and nope nope just more words and graphs i dont understand. ok since im a little stupid lets go with this. ancient greece definitely had non-white people in it too, but i dont think its that controversial to say it was mainly white europeans. if not, then you have to explain how the current inhabitants are mostly white europeans. which...idk you can probably explain it pretty easily but i am not smart and the simplest explanation is just that the ethnicities of the current inhabitants roughly matches that of the ancient inhabitants.

i still dont think its so unreasonable to assume that rick decided to move the gods to america as a way to appeal to his audience, rather than as some kind of white supremacist move. though tbf it could be both. he doesn't even have to be aware hes doing it for it to be the case. but just because it could be the case doesnt mean it is.

the way he phrases it in-story does kinda seem supremacist now that i think about it but again, this is a story about demigods and is based on ancient myths and literal legends. giving these things some epic framing with exceptionalism is hardly surprising.

and...thats about all the notes i have about the article. it goes on to make a lot of good points and best of all, it doesn't actually pile up on rick and his stories that much. just brings attention to the fact that there is some genuine white supremacy stuff in there and that you should be aware of that. it doesn't even tell you not to read them and it makes note of the fact rick has gotten much better at not doing white supremacy.

in a way i was right about this article being rage mongering. just that it only rage mongers at the beginning as a way to draw you in to read it. call that a hook call it clickbait but the article is genuinely good and insightful and i recommend reading it.

you thought you can just read my addition instead of the article didnt you? think again buster you are merely a fool.

so like. everyone in the pjo fandom has read this article right? ok cool

[writingwisterias]

All of me for All of you

DI!Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Fem! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Fluff, Friends - Lovers, Insecurities, Oral (F- receiving), Praise Kink, Slight Breeding kink ;), Unprotected sex, Summary: He was always the best at surprising you Words: 2.8k Happy valentines day! I know I said it would be a drabble but I'm starting to think I don't actually know what the word is. Stay safe tonight if you do have plans! and hope you all have fun ;))

It was probably better for you that he cancelled instead of waiting in the restaurant for the dickhead to show up with some cheap chocolates and dying flowers in exchange for sex. Dating was hard enough these days, with all of the apps being used for a quick fuck instead of a meaningful connection. Did that not matter to anyone anymore? The idea of a relationship with someone who felt like your best friend seemed like a distant dream at this point. 

Instead, tonight you were sitting in your apartment with a glass of wine and some expensive chocolate you treated yourself to. It just always felt so sad spending the one holiday that is meant for people to declare their love to each other like this. To make matters worse you were the only one alone today, you couldn’t even have a galentines day since their dates didn’t decide to cancel. The only person you knew that was free was Leon. A recent edition in your life after joining his workplace. Your relationship progressed quickly into best friend status as your skills worked well together, trusting each other almost immediately. Humor even more so. 

The ideal couple if the office had anything to do with it. You wouldn’t be yourself by ignoring the blossoming crush you had on him. After all he was the office heart throb there were many others that felt the same. Yet, with his lack of text today you assumed he was slumped in some bar or busy on a mission. Too busy to deal with you stewing in your self worth. 

The rom-com playing in the background did nothing to improve your mood, only adding to the sense of loneliness that suffocated your brain. You hadn’t realised how sad it felt being alone when there were so many people booking up the restaurant spaces. To make a bad evening worse you couldn’t even get a takeaway dinner because of all ‘Love day’ deals. 

Leon however had remembered the brief comment you made yesterday about the date cancellation. The backpack he was wearing was full of dinner supplies, wanting to make sure that at least you had something to make you feel better. Did he have a date because you had one? Yes. Did he cancel it because yours was cancelled? Also yes. 

Perhaps this is just the life of someone smitten. It took him a while to even gather the courage to ask you on a date, spending days calculating every moment of it so he could finally admit how he felt only for you to crush it by showing a picture of sir dickhead. His plans ruined and replaced with some woman he found that same night at least then he wouldn’t be alone he thought. Hopefully you’ll settle for some homemade pizzas as the poor guy couldn’t even get the shop bought ones in the frozen section. 

The knock at your door surprised you more than anything, scrambling the mountain of blankets you had on the sofa for your phone in case you missed a text. He could hear your feet thudding to the door. Leon stood in the doorway, rocking on his feet as you turned each lock but the nerves settled quickly when he caught a look at your adorable face. You were wrapped in a blanket, hair down and messy, the house highlighted by the soft glow of the fairy light he helped hang up a few weeks ago. It felt like you, a ball of warmth. 

“Happy valentines day?” He chuckled holding out the squashed flowers from where they were crushed in his backpack along with a squashed box of chocolates. He grinned as the confusion on your face was slowly wiped into a happy expression. The corners of your mouth twinging upwards slightly until it finally broke into a fill on grin. “Leon, what are you doing here? I thought you had a date or something?” You questioned, stepping aside anyway to allow him to enter. He placed the flowers and chocolate on the table, his jacket finding the spot you reserved for it on the hanger by the door. “It..uh…got cancelled? Anyway, no point in us being lonely” He spoke. 

The backpack landed on the table with a thud before he started to unpack it. Various pizza toppings, bags of many types of cheeses. “What is all this?” You asked, picking up a few items trying to correlate his plan. “Well I tried to pick up some pizzas but there wasn’t any. It might be fun to try and make our own, I thought” 

You could have melted in a puddle right there and then you swore as you turned to look at him. The smile he wore was genuine for a change not the forced one he often used around the office or when the team went out for drinks. He really wanted to be here with you tonight, even going as far as to conjure up a last minute plan. So with a large grin you turned to face him, rolling up the sleeves of your pjs “Guess we better get cooking I’m starving” 

Music slowly filled the kitchen, flour covering every surface as well as each other as you both shaped your pizza bases. “We should do hearts, to keep in theme” You suggested as you started to create the arches perfectly. Leon nodded, giving an attempt himself laughing at the mess. “At least we will tell each others apart,” He joked. Whilst he lacked the artist approach that yours did it was still endearing anyway, it gave it character. “I can see the attempt” You giggled, resting your chin on his shoulder as you looked at it. Leon’s breath faltered – he hadn’t expected the night to turn so domestic, to feel like a relationship with you was something he always missed. It fuels the determination inside him to correct it to ensure that no matter what he succeeds.

“Yeah well yours was always going to be perfect, everything you do is” He spoke, catching your eye briefly before turning to look at the pizza creation he was working on. It was a prime opportunity to wrap your arms around him, hold him close and just feel his warmth seep into your bones. You didn’t though; instead you reluctantly peeled away moving towards the oven to begin cooking them. It felt like time had slowed as you both waited, sitting on the counters opposite each other whilst the pizzas baked in between you too. “So how come your date cancelled on you then?” You asked him, legs thumping on the cabinets as you swung them. 

Leon shrugged he wasn’t sure if was ready yet to admit the truth, the real reason why he was here. He was currently enjoying the atmosphere. He spent time with you often breaking his rule of allowing people close, letting them worm their way into his closed off world in case they got hurt. You didn't even need to try. You just did it, made him crumble and falter; gave him an adrenaline rush of something that wasn’t fighting death. “Rather be here instead anyway” He stated. You believed him, the look in his eye told you he was content. Happy even. The beeper on the oven interrupted your own admittance, cutting the tension you had both created before it was too late. You didn’t want to ruin this. 

“How come I have the shit blanket?” He grumbled as you both curled on the sofa, the pizzas cut and ready on plates in your lap. He was letting you choose the movie today, after all he chose the last one a few weeks ago. “Because this one is my favorite” You stated eyes glued onto the screen. You were both a respectful distance away, curled up in either corner of the sofa, your legs touching slightly as you sprawled out at a diagonal. You had managed to find a cheap candle, lighting them around the tv which added to the warmth of the room. It was the perfect night in. “I like that one as well though” He whined. You knew he did, he stole it every time you got up to the bathroom, used it when he slept on your couch. It smelt like him every time he left; that's why it was your favourite. 

“Cry about it. I could have not given you one” 

It was true he supposed, he could have been left to the cold. His body moved before he thought logically about it, sliding across the couch holding his pizza carefully. Worming his way next to you under the blanket. You stiffened as he moved the pillows around to create a fake arm rest, kicking his legs out on the coffee table in front of him. He was so close, you could feel his arm brushing against yours as he moved them to bring the food to his mouth. Brushing his hand against your thigh as he rubbed the crumbs off his finger tips. 

“This pizza’s great, what a great idea. I wonder who came up with” He joked but when he turned to look at you his breath caught in his throat. You gazed at him with a soft smile, your eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. Your hand landed on his, holding it gently. “How do you want your credits?” You whispered, heart pounding as you leaned closer. Leon could feel your breath against his cheek, feel the weight of you as you leaned in closer to him. His eyes scanned you, looking for any sign that he was reading the situation wrong only to find that yours were doing the same. Waiting for the rejection from him, for him to push you away and leave you alone again. 

Leon didn’t dare, not when your lips tasted this sweet once he finally closed the gap. Your skin soft underneath his palms as he held your face and brought you close. The empty plates clattered to the floor, the sound muted as the blanket fell with them. Leon dominated you, pushing you back against the couch. “Are you sure about this?” He asked nervously, his body caged you in. His aftershave intoxicating you as you nipped at the skin of his neck. “I’m sure” You whispered against the stubble that covered his jaw. Slowly making a trail back to his lips. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing because we are lonely” 

“Good. Me neither” 

With a smirk his fingers began to slide up your pj top, helping you remove it quickly. “No bra?” He teased as he pulled one of the hardening buds in his mouth. Sucking at the flesh loudly, his tongue circling the bud with an infinity symbol flicking as he moved over it. You couldn’t even respond to him if you tried, your heart thumping as he kissed along the valley of your breasts. His fingers replacing his lips on the breast he left behind. Your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, pulling him closer to your chest like you were trying to suffocate him with the sweet smell of lavender that lingers on you. 

You felt him smirk his teeth grazing the bud, small nibbles around the area that was soon to leave marks. He wasn’t even doing anything but devouring your breasts and it got you all hot and bothered. Your breathless moans were your only form of communication; words failing you as he continued to move south. His grip was gently – barely there as he moved his hands down to your thighs. Leon’s fingers dug into the soft flesh prying your legs apart. Your grey shorts are already displaying your eagerness to him. “Never pictured you to become this horny” He teases, his tongue moving up the insides of your thigh marking the journey he made. You felt him suck against the fabric, moaning deeply as the muted taste of you hit his tongue. 

His fingers returned their teasing touch, hovering above the waistband of the shorts. Leon however paused, glancing back up to you waiting silently for a final form of approval before doing anything. Your fingers stroked the soft strands of his hair as you smiled down at him and nodded. The shorts were removed fairly quickly and discarded somewhere in the room. “Cute” He chuckled upon seeing your underwear. You had totally forgotten about the heart shaped ones you wore this morning after not expecting company. “I…I wasn’t planning on this” You chuckled nervously. Your cheeks are heating up as embarrassment flooded through your system. You knew he didn’t care, not when his lust blown eyes watched the unveil of your underwear as he exposed your pussy. 

He watched the poor thing clench around nothing, the cold air making it twitch and spasm as you silently begged for attention. Who was he to deny you? This is what he wanted after all. To finally prove his affection and how much you mean to him, how much effect you had on his life since entering it. His kisses were firm, your arousal was just as sweet as your personality. Now sweetening up his bitter outlook on life. Fuck it was addictive, to ellicite each whine and whimper as he devoured your taste. His cock throbbed in his jeans. It was almost painful.

You didn’t miss the subtle shift in his hips as he ground them into the couch trying to give himself any form of pleasure he could. “Leon- please..more” You whimpered, tugging at the soft strands of his hair to get him to face you. His mouth curved into a grin upon hearing your request. Your slick coating his lips like lip gloss as he finally lifted his head to face you. “Anything for you” He grinned. The warmth seemed to follow him as he stood up, his presence immediately missed as began to remove his jeans and boxers in one fluid motion. 

His cock was pretty, the tip flushed red – cum beading in greeting of your greedy eyes. The shaft decorated in veins you knew would feel perfect as he moved himself through your folds. He knew he should fiddle through his pockets for that shiny wrapper, keep each other protected but at this moment he didn’t seem to care. Not when you were looking at him like that. Your legs spread even wider, pulling them back towards your chest as he returned to his spot. The couch had barely enough room for this type of motion, the coffee table limiting his leg room meaning it was an awkward angle. It didn’t matter in hindsight, not as he sunk himself in your welcoming warmth.

For the first time in years his mind was empty, no thoughts except for the pleasure that coursed through his cock, all of his blood rushing south. Fuck you were devine, he wouldn’t regret what he did to get to this moment. That poor woman who thought she was going to get lucky is now sobbing at home alone. He didn’t care not when you felt this fucking good. Tasted this fucking good. 

“I’m never letting you go” 

His obsession with you was rising, jealousy making him sick with thoughts of the competition he didn’t even have. Leon poured everything he could in the movement of his hips, hoping you’ll never forget the way his cock curved slightly as he entered. The tip brushed against your cervix as he pushed you further into the couch. Your nails grounded him, dug into his shoulder blades as you lost yourself to the feel of his cock. “I don’t want you to” 

The words were breathless, teased against the nape of his neck as you spoke them. His eyes met yours, he didn’t have to explain anything. Not with the history of his love circling around them. You had both been through too much, the job you shared demanding so much of everything. You both needed this. Something to return to – to remind you both you were still human. 

Your orgasm builds up quickly with his rhythmic thrusts hitting every spot you need him to. Your back arched with a gasp as it finally shattered through you, Leon smiled at the sight of you, his hips moved against yours at a bruising pace. It was a dangerous line to push himself this close without pulling out, the claim he could have by finishing inside you. Prevent you from finding anyone else, get anyone else from looking at you. He craved you for so long and it was gone too soon. “Where?” He grunted, burying his head in the crevice of your neck. “Inside” you whispered. 

He smiled against your skin, biting down as he finally let himself go. Your nails dragged along his skin as you felt his warmth flood through you. The two of you laid there, basking in the aftermath of your affection. Breaths mingling as you stared at each other with giddy smiles. “Happy valentines day” He whispered before bringing your lips in a sweet kiss. “Thank you, Leon” 

[bratbarzal]

Could you please do ⁵⁾ “i couldn’t think of a better night to show everyone how in love with you i am.” with Nico?

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

“i couldn’t think of a better night to show everyone how in love with you i am.” this also goes out to the anon who requested this exact line with meier sister reader bc it's where my brain immediately went when I saw this!!!! BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND!NICO NATION WE UP!!! RISE AND SHINE!!!

*this includes sexual references, but no actual smut.

"Stop watching me like that."

Nico sits at the top of the bed, the bed sheet only just covering his modesty as his legs sprawl out from beneath the covers. He has one arm stretched across the pillow you just vacated, and another scratching slowly at his stomach, where the soft patch of hair on his abdomen disappears under the flimsy strip of cotton.

He looks like sex personified, and he needs to give it a rest.

Laughter rumbles lowly from the depths of his chest, a sly smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes follow you - rushing around the room to retrieve the clothes he had torn from your body maybe an hour ago now. You hop back into your panties, and then your shorts, and it's as you're clipping your bra back on that he asks, "Like what?"

His tone is teasing, familiar, exactly the kind of flirty cadence that had lured you into his bed earlier today, in the first place - passing by a little too close for comfort with a hand on your hip, and lips to your ear, muttering how good your ass looked in your shorts before he planted a quick, light smack to it.

He knows what he's doing.

"Like you could go again," you huff, buttoning at the light, summery shirt you were wearing before as you look up at him.

"Maybe I could," he shrugs, straightening up in a way that makes the sheet slip dangerously low, an action that attracts your gaze like a high powered magnet, stuck on him until you can shake yourself out of it. "Maybe we should."

"No," you rattle your head, trying to claw back any kind of sense or dignity, diverting your attention in search of your sandals. "Not happening. I need to go shower. I smell like a combination of a sex den and you."

"And what's wrong with that?" he chuckles, "You use my stuff in the shower every time you come over, you wear my clothes when you leave, why's today any different?"

"Because we're on vacation with my brother, Nico," you huff, finding where you had kicked them off and they had slid toward his side of the bed. "He catches a whiff of you on me, on today of all days, and he'll throw you overboard the next time we're out on the boat."

"C'mon," he sighs, although that tempting smirk remains, and shuffles his legs over the side of the bed, the sheet slipping, forcing you to spin on your heels to avoid staring down the barrel of what you have no doubt is, once again, a loaded gun.

That man is insatiable.

You hear his laughter from behind you, along with footsteps that fall out of pattern for a brief second, and you're thankful when a large hand places itself on your upper arm to turn you, that he's at least wearing boxers now.

"We can't keep sneaking around forever, it's been long enough, don't you think?"

You feel your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you close, his assertive grip holding you in place with fingers now curved around the back of your waist, and you sigh - a big one, that despite the heaviness of it, does little to quell the anxiety swirling around your chest.

"I thought you wanted to wait until the season was finished," you frown, distinctly remembering how you felt after that conversation back in November - when your situation became a lot less casual, and Nico had officially asked you to be his girlfriend one morning when he had finally run out of other excuses for you not to leave his bed.

"I did," he muses, fingers pressing into your flesh and forcing you forward, until you're flat against him, and once again encompassed by his ever lasting warmth. "But now I'm tired of hiding. Just want to love on you, not just in private or when Timo isn't looking."

His actions mimic his words as his hands start to wander, and his lips press soft, lingering kisses in a trail from your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck.

You melt, as you always do, body feeling like putty that moulds to his touch and sticks to his fingers as he reels you back in.

"We can't hard launch to my brother on Valentines Day, Nico," you mumble, your resolve weakening by the second with every slight ministration, his lips nipping at all the sensitive parts of your neck and his hands seeking out whatever skin he can get to first.

"Why not?" he asks, his voice low just beside your ear - so low that it sends a shiver down your spine, your chest pressing straight to his. "It's technically our anniversary after all."

This whole thing had started last year - in his bye-week - not long after you had moved in with your brother, and had been invited with the two of them and a couple more of their friends for a week-long trip.

What had always been teasing and lingering between you and Nico had swiftly evolved into more - one night of one too many drinks leading you straight to his bed, and one night leading to something frequent and forbidden.

Something changed in the summer - the two of you meeting up a little more back in Switzerland, when you weren't under your older brother's constant supervision, and you weren't worrying about being caught all the time, and then when you all came back to the states, you found yourself in Nico's bed more often than your own.

“I couldn’t think of a better night to show everyone how in love with you I am.”

Your heart thuds in your chest at the revelation, muttered straight into your ear - it taking you a second to get past the vibration of his words down your whole entire body before you register exactly what he said.

And then you lean back, your faces close as you turn to meet his eye - that captivating glimmer shining straight across dark chocolate irises, the smirk from before melting into something softer, more serious, more real.

"You're in love with me?" You ask, watching the smile slowly grow.

"Obviously," he replies, his thumb swiping gentle strokes into your spine, not giving it a chance to tense up or stiffen at the revelation - still moulded perfectly to his touch. "I don't risk my life at the hands of your brother for just anybody."

You smile too, despite the four-tonne block of anxiety that's launching itself your way at the all the possible ways this could go wrong.

Nico loves you.

And Timo's just gonna have to deal with it.

"I'm in love with you too," you tell him, leaning in immediately to press a kiss to his lips, like sealing the sentiment in place, feeling them curve against your own.

"Good," he mutters against you, kissing and kissing until you're too far gone again to do anything about it. "We should fuck again to celebrate, just in case your brother kills me."

You giggle, still not pulling back, letting his feet shuffle towards the end of the bed and guide you the same way.

You'll shower later. Probably with Nico - and the smell of his shampoo in your hair might give the two of you away, but who cares.

He's in love with you.

[sunseed-fandump]

Jailhouse Rock

The kids make a new (and very questionable) friend.

AU: Bad Batch Word Count: 3,281

Well, it was official, this was the most awkward moment of Gingerbrave’s life.

The jail cell was a cramped little thing, definitely not something built with the idea of containing more than one prisoner, just like the jailhouse itself didn’t seem to be built with that many criminals in mind, as there was only one cell. He supposed it made sense that a small town in the middle of the desert wouldn’t expect too many criminals stopping by, let alone having the misfortune of all of them being caught at the same time. Yet here they were.

It wasn’t like they had wanted to get caught. This was actually one of the few times they had bothered to keep a low profile. They had stopped into town for supplies on their trip down the Pilgrim’s Path, and figured it would be best for their long journey to conserve their energy. Just get in, grab the stuff, toss the money on the counter, get out. Simple.

Then things got decidedly less simple when a couple of bounty hunters recognized the kids from their wanted posters. (When did those get printed? They looked so cool! Gingerbrave hoped he got to take one home to put up on his bedroom wall.) The scuffle resulted in a lot of property damage, Wizard getting a minor concussion, and all three kids getting hit with tranquilizer darts. Who the hell carries those around? Well, those guys, apparently.

An hour later found the trio waking up disoriented, disarmed, and awaiting transfer to the nearest Kingdom for processing. Oh, and they had a cellmate. A cellmate who seemingly hated their guts if the way she scowled at them from the other side of the tiny cell was any indication.

Resulting in the awkward stare-down that was currently happening. On his right, Wild Strawberry seemingly lost interest and started fidgeting with the drawstrings on her hood. Meanwhile to his left, Wizard had begun muttering something to himself. (A quick glance to the clock on the wall beyond the bars told Gingerbrave they probably had about an hour or two before Wizard started going off the deep-end due to withdrawal from his stupid staff. Gingerbrave couldn’t stand that parasite…)

Luckily, since he was undead, Gingerbrave didn’t have to blink, which meant he could literally stare at this weird angry lady all day if he wanted. He didn’t want to, though, so instead he tried to strike up a conversation.

“So, uh…” He scratched at the stitches on his neck. “What are you in for?”

The cookie’s scowl deepened. She was a spicy cookie if the red hair and strong scent was any indication. Her hair was done up in a ponytail and she had a scar on her forehead. She was dressed in the traditional black-and-white striped outfit one typically associated with criminals. Gingerbrave wondered, when the sheriff came back, if they would be expected to get changed into something similar.

At the cookie’s lack of a response and neither of his friends lending him a hand, Gingerbrave decided to keep talking.

“Right. Anyway, I’m Gingerbrave, and these are my friends Wizard and Wild Strawberry—“ He was cut off by the other cookie’s very clipped response.

“I know who you are.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. It seemed that was all she felt like saying though as any attempt to talk to her earned the boy the cold shoulder.

Gingerbrave eventually figured she was a lost cause, and judging by Wizard starting to rock back and forth from where he was seated, he was beginning to head into the first stages. So it was time to get going.

“Alright, we’re gonna leave now.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before getting up from his seat and heading over to the front of the cell. He pressed his face up against the bars to get a better view of the hallway. He could just barely make out the sheriff’s office at the end of the hall. No doubt, that’s probably where their stuff was. Judging by how quiet it was, the sheriff was still out doing whatever it was that sheriffs did, which meant Gingerbrave had to be quick.

The boy tested the bars. Solid as a rock and he had neglected to bring any of his stronger arms with him. Unfortunate, but he’d have to work with it.

“Hey, Wizard,” Gingerbrave looked over to the shorter boy, who seemed to briefly snap out of whatever daze he had slipped into. “If I can get you your staff, could you get us out of here?”

“Yes!” He replied way too quickly, before shaking his head and rubbing at his temples. The migraine must have been setting in. “Yes, get me my staff and I can teleport us.”

“Sounds like a plan!” And without any hesitation Gingerbrave grabbed at his forearm just under the stitches on his left elbow, and snapped it off.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” The spicy cookie jumped back, clearly startled; all the color had drained from her face in an instant. All the kids laughed a little at her expense. (Even Strawberry, with a barely restrained ‘pfft!’)

“It’s fine! See?” The severed hand waved at her like nothing was wrong. “Watch this!” He gently set it down to the floor where, with a bit of awkward finagling he got it balanced on its fingers like a spider. He walked his hand out of the cell, slipping it between the bars, and all the cookies watched as it scuttled down the hall towards the office. Gingerbrave scrunched up his face in concentration, leaning the stub of his left arm out of the cell as far as it could go to help keep his hand within range. His spirit could stretch pretty far, but not forever, and he wanted to make sure he had full reign of the office.

Okay, that felt like the office chair. There’s the desk. He poked around a little to the right and hit a wall so maybe if he…

“Does that hurt…?” The spicy cookie’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts briefly and the boy looked over his shoulder at her. Huh, that usually wasn’t the first reaction he got when severing his parts in front of new cookies. Usually it was fear, panic, and accusations of being a dough-eating monster, but this cookie’s initial surprise had melted into an emotion Gingerbrave wasn’t quite familiar with.

“Nah, they were made to come off.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before turning his attention back to feeling around the distant room. What was that? A bookshelf? Maybe he should try a few paces to the left.

The spicy cookie gave him an assessing look before turning her attention to the other two, specifically Wizard who was looking a little more harrowed than usual. “Yo, shortstack, you good?”

Gingerbrave snorted at the nickname. Oh! That felt like a chest! Maybe their stuff was in there but… it was locked. Rats. Then again, maybe the staff couldn’t fit? Probably best to be thorough.

“I’ll be fine once Gingerbrave gets my staff back.” Wizard said with a harrumph and a mutter of “I’m not short…”

“What’s the hold up? Any longer and Wizard is gonna start getting all freaky.” Strawberry asked, to which Gingerbrave huffed.

“I’m trying!! This would’ve been a lot easier if I was awake when we were brought in. Wizard, tell your stupid staff to be less stupid—!”

‘BANG!’

A screech ripped itself out of Gingerbrave when pain shot through his hand. He flung himself back from the bars, hitting the opposite wall and clutching at his stubby arm as if it would stop the pain. He heard a few exclamations of surprise from the cookies around him along with a horrified scream from down the hall followed by two more gunshots that (thankfully) missed their mark.

The sheriff was back and he just shot Gingerbrave in the hand.

His hand scuttled wildly around the office, blindly bumping into everything in an attempt to get to some kind of cover. Wild Strawberry had gotten up and put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“He shot me…!” Gingerbrave bit out between clenched teeth just as a few more shots rang out, one of them glancing the boy’s dough.

“Screw this.” The spicy cookie flung herself at the cell door and after a few moments it popped open…

Wait, what?

“You could’ve done that this whole time?!” Strawberry voiced what Gingerbrave was in too much pain to say.

“Shut up and move!” Replied the other cookie who sprung out of the cell and down the hall. Wizard was right on her heels, no doubt seeing the opportunity to get his staff and not at all caring about the actively shooting lawman. Wild Strawberry called out to him, cursed under her breath when she was ignored, then grabbed Gingerbrave and hauled him out of the cell to give chase.

They arrived just in time to watch the spicy cookie deliver a round-house kick to the sheriff’s face, sending him flying back and hitting his head on the corner of the bookshelf, knocking him out cold.

“How could a cookie that moves so slow become sheriff? Can’t believe I let myself get caught by this moron…” she tsked and checked his pockets.

“There you are!” Wizard exclaimed happily before flinging himself at his staff that was propped up in an umbrella stand for some weird reason. He scooped it up into his hands, the tension practically melted from his body as he felt the staff’s familiar magic settle once more within his dough. “That fool didn’t shoot you, did he…? No?” He sighed in relief.

Gingerbrave looked at the scene with a small frown, but held his tongue. Instead he focused on trying to find his hand. He experimentally tapped his fingers against the nearest hard surface and cringed at the pain blossoming from his fresh wounds.

Wild Strawberry Cookie got down on her knees and checked under the desk when she heard tapping, sure enough, there was Gingerbrave’s hand with a bullet wound in it. “Got it.” She pulled it out and held it up for her friend to take, who cradled it close to his chest. “I’ll get the extra icing stitches from my backpack and we can stitch everything up.”

“No time.” Wild Strawberry jumped when her backpack and lollipop were shoved into her arms by the spicy cookie. She had picked the sheriff’s pockets clean, gotten the keys to the chest in the corner, and cleaned that out too. She strapped a belt around her waste and clipped two daggers to her side. “All that ruckus is gonna have the whole town coming down on top of us. Pointy hat, if you got magic I suggest you start using it!”

“My name is Wizard–!” The small boy’s correction was cut off by the glass of the window shattering in front of him.

“GET DOWN!” She grabbed Gingerbrave and Strawberry and pulled them behind the desk. Wizard, who had been a bit further away, joined them shortly after just as a hail of bullets poured in through both windows and the open front door. “Unless you wanna have more holes than swiss cheese then I suggest you get us out of here!!”

Wizard growled, but instead of snapping at her, he focused on the vocal components of a well-practiced spell. A magic circle appeared beneath the group of cookies and in a flash they were gone. One moment they were hiding under a desk, the next they were on top of a bluff overlooking the town. The gunshots, once deafening, were nothing but an echo on the rocks at this distance.

The spicy cookie stumbled, not used to the sensation of being teleported around, caught herself, and then let out a huge ‘WOO!’

“Wow! What a day!” She exclaimed with a sigh of relief.

“Tell me about it…” Wild Strawberry muttered as she dug into her backpack and pulled out the icing stitches. “Yo, Gingerbrave, let’s get your arm back on.”

“Y-Yeah…” The other boy hissed, allowing himself to be guided over to a rock and took a seat.

“That was some nice quick-casting there, pointy hat!” The spicy cookie went to pat Wizard on the back, but paused. “Oh, right, I’m supposed to be mad at you guys…” She pondered this for a moment before shaking her head with a laugh and then patting him anyway. “Ah, but it’s hard to stay mad after such a fun jailbreak! Definitely one of my favorite ones yet!”

“Who even are you?” Wizard Cookie turned on her, giving her an absolutely baffled look as he adjusted his hat.

“And, uh, why are you mad at us?” Gingerbrave called over, trying to remain as still as possible while Strawberry worked. It wasn’t like they weren’t used to being scorned by most, if not all, of Crispia, but this strange cookie’s anger seemed rather out of left field. The spicy cookie reared back, as if offended by this line of questioning.

“You mean you guys don’t recognize me?! Seriously? And here I thought you were supposed to be big shots…” She reached into her pocket and produced a rolled up piece of paper which was quickly revealed to be a wanted poster that she unraveled with a proud flourish. “The name’s Chili Pepper Cookie and I’m the best thief in the world! There’s nothing on Earthbread I can’t steal.”

“Whoa! Look at that bounty!” Gingerbrave gasped at the sight of all the zeroes. “But… Uh… What does that have to do with being mad at us?”

“Because!” She rolled the paper back up and jabbed a finger at the trio. “Your collective bounties are higher than MINE! How am I supposed to go down in history if I’m being outclassed by a bunch of twerps?!”

Wizard Cookie sputtered indignantly at this revelation. Wild Strawberry stared at her, thoroughly unimpressed. Gingerbrave, however, burst into laughter.

“That’s what all of this was about!?” He cackled a few moments, clutching his aching gut, before settling down and saying breathily, “You’re a weird cookie. I like you!”

“If you want our bounties, you can have them! They’re what got us into trouble in the first place!” Wizard huffed.

Chili Pepper tilted her head, fixing them with a weird look. “Wait, you mean to tell me you aren’t in this for the infamy? Guess that’s why I haven’t seen you around the usual haunts rubbing your status in everyone's faces. You’re totally out of the loop!” She brightened, as if this revelation was both a massive relief and a big joke at the same time.

“Yeah we’re… not really interested in whatever weird crime competition this is.” Wild Strawberry Cookie shook her head as she finished up Gingerbrave’s stitches and stashed the spool into her bag. “If anything those bounties make reaching our goal harder…”

Chili Pepper Cookie looked at her as if she had grown a second head. “What could a group of kids like you want so badly you land bounties that put you in the criminal elite?”

“We’re going to steal the Soul Jam to free the world!” Gingerbrave proudly announced, jumping to his feet, he was already feeling a lot better now that his wounds were stitched up.

“A world without judgement!” Wizard added with a nod.

“And lawlessness…” Wild Strawberry muttered.

Chili Pepper Cookie gave the three children a thoughtful expression, putting a hand to her chin with a little ‘huh…’ before shooting a wide grin at the kids. “Well, I’m not sure about half of that, but I can definitely get behind the stealing and lawlessness parts! Are those Soul Jam things shiny?”

“They are incredibly powerful magical artifacts that have the capability of changing the world as we know it!” Wizard rattled off. When Chili Pepper gave him a blank look, he sighed and said, “And they’re shiny, yes.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Gingerbrave cut in with a wide smile. “Chili Pepper Cookie, why don’t you come with us?” He got a mixed reaction of surprise and confusion from the cookies around him. Wizard Cookie and Wild Strawberry Cookie knew that Gingerbrave didn’t just extend offers like this to just anyone. He might have been the more chipper and outgoing of their group, but he didn’t trust others so easily. He must have really liked something Chili Pepper did or said to even think about such a proposal.

“You want me to come with you? Why?” Chili Pepper was just as confused as Gingerbrave’s friends. She couldn’t imagine them wanting her around after she gave them the silent treatment back in the jail cell.

“You seem fun.” Was Gingerbrave’s simple reply. “You helped us get out of that jail cell when you really didn’t have to. Plus, if you travel with us, I’m sure your bounty will sky rocket! And we could use the world’s greatest thief on our team!”

Chili Pepper Cookie seriously considered his proposal for a minute. When she had first heard about them and their rapid climbing of the leaderboard, she had thought they were nothing but a bunch of punk kids who wanted to be rowdy and cause trouble. Now she could see though, they had bigger plans than just topping the charts of the Underworld. She could appreciate such a large ambition.

Besides they didn’t seem to be jamthirsty monsters like all the rumors said they were. They were just… weird. The criminal underworld had plenty of downright monstrous folks who Chili Pepper tried not to associate with, but she could tell, these kids didn’t seem heartless. Mischievous, yes. Troubled? Absolutely. But not heartless.

“You know what?” Chili Pepper grinned. “I’ll think about it. But for right now, I got a job I need to finish.”

“A job?” Wild Strawberry asked just as Chili Pepper turned to walk towards the cliff that overlooked the town.

“Yeah? Do you think the greatest thief in the world would screw up and get arrested in a nothing town like this?” She gestured to the settlement below. “I let myself get caught! The train they were gonna put us on has a massive safe full of gems. I was gonna bust out of my cuffs mid-transfer and clean it out! But now I guess I gotta do it the good old fashioned way…”

Gingerbrave once again laughed, giving Chili Pepper a sharp grin. “Well, if you decide you wanna join up, head to the Bear Jelly Village in the Land of Little Big Dreams! There’s a cookie there who’ll point you in the right direction.” With that he raised a hand in farewell. “Good luck, Chili Pepper Cookie!”

Chili Pepper gave the kids a mock salute. “See you around, stitches! Make sure you stay out of any more jail cells, punks!” With that she jumped over the side as nimble as an acrobat, and out of sight.

“Well, that was certainly… interesting.” Wizard sighed, before clutching his stomach. “But we failed to get any supplies, and teleporting us this far has made me famished…”

“Right… I forgot about that…” Gingerbrave’s brow furrowed. Should they try heading back into town and risking getting arrested again? Did they push forward and hoped they reach the next town before they starved? He didn’t really know much about hunting or foraging, but he doubted they’d be able to sustain themselves with much in this sugar-free wasteland.

“Hey, look!” Wild Strawberry pointed further up the main road where the kids could see a huge cloud of dust being kicked up. “I think that’s a caravan.”

All three kids stared at it for a long moment.

“Welp!” Gingerbrave clapped his hands together. “Fellas, it’s time to commit robbery!”

“YEAH!!” Strawberry and Wizard raised their respective weapons into the air, excited at the prospect of getting some food in their stomachs. With that, the trio ran off to intercept those travelers.

From the bottom of the cliff, Chili Pepper watched the kids disappear. She lingered for a moment, deep in thought…

‘CHOO CHOOOOOOO!’

The thief turned on her heel and raced towards the tracks. Their paths would cross again someday, but for now, she has a train to catch.

[iocles]

Alexis Ness HCs (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

crashout ness💔💔 ness pls I could treat u better

• avid Instagram reels watcher when he isn't busy w/ kaiser

• He used to have one of those lil sea monkey pets

• He wants to get matching pajamas with Kaiser so bad, but Kaiser only likes wearing that damn robe (🤤)

• Even with how much time he spends around Kaiser, he could never see himself living with him or anything like that in the future.

• If he is able to make a name for himself other than being Kaiser's little sidekick, he might limit how much he interacts with Kaiser

• He knows how bad Kaiser is for him, but he's deadass his only companion

• His favorite animal might be the little monkeys he finds on social media, like Xing Xing

• He wants to do theatre so bad, but he doesn't wanna get clowned on🤕

• His favorite musical is Heathers btw

• He eats up streetwear, but he would NEVER pull up to something important without wearing something classy

• VERY strong, esp in the legs (duh)

• Sleeper build

• He falls for the "I bet I'm stronger than you" thing (like the one where s/o tells other s/o that they're stronger, just so the obviously stronger s/o could manhandle them)

• Great playfighter, because he can actually playfight without getting too rough

• When he realizes why someone would tell him they're stronger, he only gives them that little blank stare with a smile he has to show he's processing their request, then a quick grin after because he knows what they want

• Speaking of knowing what someone wants, he ALWAYS knows when someone's craving something

• Craving a specific food? He probably already knows it, and is on his way.

• Oddly really good at math, It's baffling

• Fairly clear English

• He didn't dye his hair, he was born w pink hair he's not a faker like KAISER who puts BLUE in his hair😒

• He sleeps all curled up, then wakes up and wonders why he feels sore

• Has a video he took of Kaiser for funsies of him sleeping, he put the little "HONKKKK mimimimi" sound over it

• He and Kaiser go to bully little kids on online games

• One of them was one of his little siblings and he got absolutely FLAMED for that

• If he wasn't a soccer player, he'd probably be super into film

• VERY locked in with soccer, but not to the point where he doesn't know anything but soccer the way Sae does

• Owns soccer jerseys from random ass countries, bro owns a Mexico jersey

• He wears these jerseys with pride either way, because he knows random countries teams really well.

• "Name 3 players" baby he'll name you all of them

• He likes eating those huge pretzels that they have at fairs, but not so much the ones that have the excessive salt- more so the ones with cinnamon and stuff in them

• Fall is his favorite season

• Massive sweet tooth, he'll be like "ill just grab a LITTLE treat(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)"

• That little treat is half a huge tub of ice cream

• UGHHH and Valentine's Day with him is so funny because he'd buy you a box of chocolates then he'd be like "open them!" so he could eat them with you (he'd eat half of the box)

THATS ALL I HAVE FOR NESS i love ness so bad

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Great!" Travis said, grinning. Once the Twins were gone, he could recommend Russell's actual channel.

Russell was already wondering if this was the best idea. Yes, he had given them payment. Yes, he had offered them the perk of free, and yes, he had said as long as he had employed them, Antonio wouldn't lay a mental hand on them. But that still didn't mean they couldn't decide they preferred Five's employment.

"I think it's better if none of us think about it too much," Leofric said, with a subtle look of disgust, "Gloves would be suitable in this matter."

"Yeah, you're right," Bill said, before he looked down at his own gloved hands, "It'll save me burning this pair when I'm done with them at the very least."

"That's a good positive way to see it," Simon said, "It's a little extra strength training."

While Antonio quickly regained his composure, he couldn't resist taking a subtle glance over at Ratchet, just to see what kind of effect that might have had on him.

He missed the smile on Willow's face, having been too busy watching Erica and Ratchet, but it seemed that it had been a quick easy task for the elf too.

"I'll have to be ready next time," was all Antonio said then, "Now where were we?"

"We're, we're not, not expecting it," Russell said. He wasn't about to tell them it was their own money they were spending. But nonetheless, he took out an extra thirty dollars from his own wallet and held it out, "Just, just come, just come back safe, all, all right? And, and get yourselves some-something nice while, while you're at it."

Bill gave a nod then. He almost wanted to make a snarky comment about how smithing the tools into something better would be harder if they didn't come back safe without them, but he could see that Russell was trying to offer some kindness despite everything.

Who knows, maybe that would help the Twins see things their way just that bit more?

"Look forward to seeing you back here, boys," Bill said, giving them a fanged grin and a cheerful wave as they left. Then he looked at Leofric when he was certain they were out of earshot, "Did you get their scent?"

"Yes," Leofric said, "If I do need to find them, I'll be able to smell them."

"Willow and I can also keep track of them with their phones," Simon said, "So we'll know what they're doing."

"I will!" Or at least she would look up the channel. It was a little difficult to keep up with videos while living in a different universe.

Though it wasn't the time to bring that up either. They were about to send the Twins out on their own, not knowing if they were going to come back. There was no need to give them more information that they could potentially share with Five while left unsupervised.

"I'm not sure I want to know what else he's been doing with these." Rook muttered. It wasn't hard to do so, but thinking about the implications only made her wish she had a way to clean her magic. "Add some gloves to the list."

"And we get a free workout, right?"

"-right?"

It felt like petty punishment, especially with how long that list was. Tommy held it up so his brother could read it as well, then watched Erica disappear in the dark pit on the floor. Somebody was about to get a good scare.

That person couldn't be Willow, though. She was already reaching into her coat before Erica had even made her entrance. Hopefully, neither Lucien or Antonio were going to notice her own smile at her double's shenanigans.

The cyborg handed over a neatly folded roll of cash, "This should suffice."

"Thanks!" Erica grabbed the money and leaped back into her portal, "I'll be louder next time!"

"Like that's going to help." Lucien grumbled.

The money was slapped onto Timmy's palm as soon as Erica's feet touched the ground. "There! Now you can go buy us stuff."

The brothers consulted each other through a brief look after the money was counted.

"This will take a while."

"And don't expect any change back."

They could barely do anything with that budget. The Twins didn't wait around to say their farewells and headed for the exit. It wasn't very interesting work, but at least they weren't looking for sage again.

[fruitswrl]

Valentines Shifting Pick a Pile જ⁀➴₊♡

" what your DR s/o loves about you + letter from your s/o "

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ what better way to celebrate valentine's day than to share your s/os feelings for you ?

i hope you find what you may be looking for, and if i was able to help in any way then i'm glad. and just like any other reading you find, take what resonates and leave what doesn’t

ꨄ take a deep breath and choose the treat you are most drawn to…

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Pile One 🎂~

/)/) ( . .) ( づ ♡

keywords/signs : allergies, sneezing, procrastination, daze, 3, garlic, cracking knuckles, waiting rooms, secret dates, laughing till your stomach hurts, pasta, cooking dates, car rides, engagements, new york, big families, ponds/bodies of water, loss for words, gifts, best friends to lovers, lack of communication, forgiveness

ꨄ ok i get the feeling that your relationship with your s/o is a wild adventurous one, fast paced yet a long drawn out one. perhaps some of you have been with them before “ officially ” getting together. or maybe an on again, off again situation. i got the sense that, someone, particularly your s/o being confused regarding their feelings. maybe it took them longer than they would like to admit, just how deeply they feel for you. but oh my pile one, they feel so much for you ! 

ꨄ they may play it cool on the outside, but on the inside… they are totally gushing over you. maybe for the first time in a long time you’ve brought out their inner child and they are just entirely giddy being with you. you definitely have been in their head for a long time, no matter what they do they think about you. they have definitely caught themselves thinking things like “ oh you would love this dress. ” or “ i can't wait to tell you about this. ”

ꨄ they truly admire your willpower and ambition. you just don't give up. it’s a quality they wish they saw more in themselves, i mean overall you definitely inspire them to be the best version of themselves. i get the feeling that some of you may be shifting to a fame DR, specifically one in which you are an actor. i sense that you and your s/o work in the same/similar career. I think that's part of the reason they admire your ambition so much. 

ꨄ whether or not you are shifting to a fame DR, and this might only be for a select few, but i get the sense that you two at some point or another have had to keep your relationship hidden. secret glances, hushed voices, hidden rendezvous and all. maybe this was a source of conflict in your relationship, but i think your s/o actually really liked the thrill of it, whether they admitted it or not. 

ꨄ you two seem to be really competitive individuals, you both push each other to their best. even if your s/o shows irritation for this from you, they are really grateful deep down. i think they see you as their lucky charm, with you by their side what could go wrong ?

ꨄ you definitely keep them on their toes, they absolutely love what a free spirit you are. you're down for anything like spontaneous road trips across the country, or getting a ( deeply questionable ) tattoo late in the night. but that's not all, you are willing to do anything for the people you love and care for, heck you'd probably give some random stranger your car just because they needed to go to the store real quick. not because you are naive, but because that's how big your heart is. and i think that might be your s/o’s favorite thing about you.

love letter from your s/o

" hello dear, it feels so long since i've last heard your voice. when are you going to give me a call? i think we should go to that spot near the water next time and feed the ducks. i hope you are doing well lately, i've been meaning to check in on you, i'm sorry if i took too long. there's a lot going on lately–but i really miss you and i desperately want to take you out. maybe we could go see a movie as well? my mom’s been asking about you, i think she misses you too shes just too stubborn to admit it, i guess i got that from her, anyways, call me…

p.s. i finally found that shirt you used to always wear around the apartment, i swear it somehow still smells just like you. "

songs

ꨄ pleaser - wallows

" back in your room remain the words i wanna say to you

but couldn't leave my mouth "

" language of averted eyes

silence is what i do best "

" quite the people pleaser

if only i could please her "

ꨄ this is how we fall in love - chelsea cutler and jeremy zucker

" you are the reason i can survive "

" this is how you fall in love

let go and i'll hold you up "

ꨄ r u mine? - arctic monkeys

" she's a silver linin', lone ranger ridin' through an open space "

" i go crazy because here isn't where i want to be "

ꨄ bonus songs: cedar by gracie abrams and dog days are over by florence and the machine

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Pile Two 🤍~

/)/) ( . .) ( づ ♡

keywords/signs : heavy water sign energy, 222, twin flames, mirrored souls, ice cream, 111, country life, past traumas, rough childhoods, religion, night sky, prayers, gemini, past lives, parties, drowning, separation, “written in the stars”, guitar, kdramas, moon, stars, lengthy conversations, blue lights

ꨄ well pile two, i felt such heavy emotional energy drawing cards for you. mostly just for how much you and your s/o feel for one another, but there might be some here whose s/o ( and maybe yourself too ) had their hearts broken in the past resulting in trust issues. it seems your s/o loves how much you trust them, and how they can trust you too. you are a very dependable individual, you've helped them heal from past hurt and to be able to open their hearts again. they feel like they can actually cry in front of you, free of judgement. you've freed them of a lot of emotional burden. perhaps they've done the same for you. it seems they view you as a literal angel, maybe you came to them in a really dark time in their life and “ saved ” them, and now they would like to save you as well. they are eternally grateful to you.

ꨄ it seems they adore how absolutely intelligent you are, you stimulate them intellectually in a way others bore them. you two probably have very similar hobbies and tastes in things, it seems reading is might be really important to the both of you. i can see that you two might share opinions and beliefs that others don’t, maybe that is part of how you both first bonded. ex: you two having a ( heated ) debate on something no one else particularly cares about but you both end up surprising each other by sharing the same perspective on something. along with your intelligence they admire how honest and direct you are with not only them but everyone, maybe that is part of the reason they trust you so much. you've shown them that even at their worst you will be there fully, right by their side.

ꨄ it seems that despite your honesty with others, to your s/o you have this air of mystique, they can't quite figure you out. i get the sense you might be playing into that as well… but you are not quite what you seem are you ? they desperately want to learn more about you, you are all consuming for them, they cannot even escape you in their dreams ( not that they'd want you to ). they love how in tune you are with your emotions, you are the stability in their life they never really had. you can easily manage making emotionally mature decisions with both your heart and head. maybe they are sometimes quick to anger, quick to let the highs of their emotions take over their actions and words. they really admire how mature you are ( despite the fact that i get the vibe that a lot of you guys are younger than your s/o ). with your high eq ( and iq ) you are a highly intuitive individual, able to pick up if something is off with your s/o. it makes them feel truly seen and cared for, especially in moments where they might not be able to express what they are feeling in the best way.

ꨄ they feel as though you are the one for them, no one else even comes close. pile two, your s/o only has eyes for you. i get the sense that for a lot of you, music is really important, and perhaps your s/o writes you loves songs. sometimes your s/o really worries for your well being, like making sure you've eaten, brushing your hair for you, getting you something from the store even when you say you don't need anything. it seems there's a chunk of you that may struggle with your mental health, and your s/o wants to make sure you're taken care of and wants to try and make you feel safe, ( even when you need your space or push them away ) they want you to know that just as you have for them they will show up, and they will stay.

love letter from your s/o

" love, this is hard for me to say, so i hope you can be patient with me. it’s nothing bad i promise. for the longest time i've been on my own, i haven't had the option to live life with the consideration of others, and i hope you haven't paid the price for that. you mean so much to me, and i don't think i've told you just how much. you are the breath of fresh air i needed, i can't remember the last time i felt like i wasn't drowning. you’ve shown me a different way to live, a different way to love. i have much to be grateful for, for one, you saving my life. i don't think i've ever mentioned that to you, but it's the truth, my truth anyways. no matter where we are, how far apart, i will always find you.

thank you for everything, but most importantly, for being you. "

songs

ꨄ come back home - bts

" i've seen the end of my life

i feel suffocated inside my heart

what is blocking my life is my fear towards tomorrow "

" why are you wasting your time?

my blood and sweat are truthful

now, let's imprint my name on that trophy and

come back home "

ꨄ kaleidoscope - chappell roan

" i guess we could pretend

we didn't cross a line

but ever since that day

everything has changed

the way i write your name "

" whatever you decide

i will understand "

" and love is a kaleidoscope

how it works we'll never know

and even all the change

is somehow all the same "

" and if you ever find

someone who could write

a better song for you

well i'd love to see them try "

ꨄ step on up - ariana grande

" you can't forget me

gave you the time of your life "

" what you need, babe, is a work of art

what you need, babe

come get it, i got it "

ꨄ bonus songs: angels by adrianne lencker and clean by taylor swift

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Pile Three 🍫 ~

/)/) ( . .) ( づ ♡

keywords/signs : music dr/band dr, travelling on the road with your band, smoking, games, wild one, messy hair, all nighters, independence, leather, eyeliner, moles, dancing, life of the party, 777, jealousy, third party/love triangle (?), the seventies, money problems, extremely fast paced, rock music, lullabies , fashion, forbidden romance, red hair, spacing out, 333

ꨄ pile three, it seems you are quite the trouble maker aren't you ? and it seems your s/o loves it. they love how you embrace all aspects of your life even the ugly and dark parts, whatever life throws your way you take it and own it! you easily adapt to any situation, always saying the right thing, you could charm anyone. you don’t have to change for anything, you are the change ! it seems for a lot of you, you and your s/o may have rushed into getting together, your feelings overwhelming. you live in the moment and that means wasting no time, why wait to be together when you can right now ? you are such a rush for your s/o. you could probably talk them into doing anything. one thing you definitely are not is boring. spontaneous and wild. and a love for the times. others can’t decide if they want to be you or with you ( probably both ). and somehow you chose them, they can't really wrap their heads around it. i think in a lot of ways they don't feel good enough for you, that you may deserve better, but they definitely don't let these insecurities show ( they try not to anyways ).

ꨄ despite your overwhelming popularity and stardom, it seems you may be overly criticized by others. your s/o definitely loves you for your flaws and all. you just feel so authentic to them, you don't hide who you are for anyone or anything. others might think you are more focused on yourself and or work to have proper relationships with others, but that doesn't actually seem to be the case, not entirely anyways. you reassure you s/o and their insecurities, if they are maybe going a bit off the deep end rest assured that you are the one to pull them back to shore.

ꨄ they often find themselves daydreaming about you. maybe they want things from you they are scared to ask for. i think they are a lot more of a serious person than others think, and that scares them, how serious they are about you. but even when they think you might leave, you are still there. you give them hope for a better future. you wrecked their plans, and that may have been frightening at first for them, but now they can't imagine it any other way. no matter what happens they truly believe they were meant to find you.

ꨄ they are inspired by your positive outlook on life, you can find meaning in something others can’t, in something they can’t. you are a creative soul, something you are quite passionate about, and they are honestly a bit envious of that. they might be someone who is more methodical than wild and creative. you definitely made them think of love and relationships differently, maybe in the past they had a more cold, closed off, demeanor to it. they still have a long way to go it seems. despite their new perspective they might still become easily jealous of the others in your life. due to their own insecurities.

ꨄ this really might not be the case for everyone , but i get the sense that for the older shifters in this group your relationship may have started as hooking up / friends with benefits. i'm trying to keep this pg, but they definitely think of you, a lot. so do what you want with that…

love letter from your s/o

" think a lot has gone unsaid between us. some days i really don't mind, it’s who we are. but sometimes i think we could be more honest, but maybe that's just me. i know that i don't want to lose you, and that might mean showing you parts of myself i hate. but if that means you staying in my life, even for just a little bit longer than okay, you have me, all of me. i think even as much as it would hurt, even if you hated these other parts of myself, i would know that at least i was honest like you. i think you'd probably think this was cheesy and maybe a bit dramatic. god, i can see it now, you laughing, hopefully with me and not at me. it's fine either way though, i'll take what i can get. just don't make too much fun of me... "

songs

ꨄ strange love - halsey

“ and everybody wants to hear

how we chainsmoked until three

and how you laughed when you said my name ”

“ we wrote a story in the fog on the windows that night

but the ending is the same every damn time ”

“ that's the beauty of a secret

you know you're supposed to keep it ”

ꨄ filter - bts

“ i'll be anything

you can pick and choose me, yeah ”

“ for you, every day i'll be new

it's not fun to stay the same all the time ”

“ you'll be wanting only me

yeah, because you are the one who made me ”

ꨄ triptych - samia

“ keepin' you awake, keepin' you awake on purpose hey, did i make a mistake and do my mistakes worsen? ”

“ i'll be good to you, i'm worth it you, i'm worth it ”

ꨄ bonus songs: to be alone by hozier and closer by rm

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[littelovelunette]

Services top vi is everything omg could you do like a mean femme reader with vi and vi being a bit of a simp for her (more loser! vi that was soooo good)

Loser Lover (3)

Contains smut, degradation, obsessive vi, strap, nipple play, oral

after having dominated vi for the first time something in you had clicked and made you somewhat arrogant with her throughout the entire relationship, the dynamic was already weird as it was with vi; despite being the taller, older and muscular one between the both of you she was somehow very obedient and just like a little puppy to you

very unlike all the other pig you'd dated before anyway.

she could never say no to something you did or demanded

vi was exactly what they'd call a service top and today you had one of the worst days at class due to the recent outbreak of rumours that you both were together, you hadn't made it an exclusive thing yet and people were already driving you nuts with the rumours

"hey princess you look like you had a bad day," vi said offering you a steamy mug of coffee which you gladly accepted, it was your comfort drink

"thanks," you muttered to her and took a small sip of the coffee, "it's good," you added before deciding to reply to what she had initially said, "yeah just schools been all up in my head. need to blow off some steam," you glanced at your coffee mug, "literally."

vi laughed a little coming closer and encircling her strong arms around your waist, "yeah? what can i do for you my princess?"

"just, y'know, fuck me," you said so blatantly that vi almost choked on her own saliva she composed herself and nodded, "I um see..."

vi watched you finish your coffee before you wrapped your arms around vi's neck, she picked you up with ease as she carried you to the bedroom, "so... you want me to use the strap on you huh?"

"don't get cocky," you warned

"alright, alright," vi chuckled and let you down, letting her tanktop fall off her figure exposing her beautiful muscular figure underneath, nipples perky and pierced.

vi undid her pants and let them fall too, pussy adorned with a bush and thighs as muscular as ever. you bit your lips at the sight, "cmon, suck mommy's boobs yeah,? you know you wanna you're such a good little fucktoy aren't you?"

your words were enough, instantly vi crawled on top of you and impatiently undressed you. once you were completely undressed vi started sucking on one of your perky nubs, twisting and pulling the other.

"fuck, little slut for me, little slut all for mommys pleasure," you cursed, "s-so fucking well," your fingers found their way to her hair caressing her hair and holding her in place as she continued sucking on your boobs like a little infant. it was cute to watch her like this.

"okay okay that's enough. get to the actual fucking already," you said after a while and vi looked up from where she was, you handed her the strap that she was quick to put over her waist, readying herself to absolutely rail the fuck out of your tight little cunt

vi held your hips and looked at you for your affirmation, "go ahead, bitch, whatcha waiting for?" you said and vi slipped the dildo inside earning a series of profanities and moans from you, her eyes were cautiously locked onto your face to ensure you were doing well you were her absolute top priority through everything in life

she wanted to make sure you had the best of the best even when it came down to sex

quite frankly vi didn't think she was deserving of you she thought you deserved way better but she never bothered you with her insecurities because a part of her knew deep down you wanted her just as bad as she wanted you

"f-fuck, slut, it's so good you're doing amazing keep doing that," you moaned out as she pounded the dildo with slow measured thrusts but it was still enough to send you reeling because of the amount of force put into every single thrust of her hips, strap already covered with your sleek juices and arousal you were getting closer to cumming with every thrust

"f-f-fuck," you stuttered as vi got faster.

"am i doing okay? want this dildo deeper?" she asked and you couldn't help letting out a desperate moan and nodding at her, vi smiled and grabbed your legs holding them up but not folding you

she had learnt a lot from you when you had strapped her the previous day and she was putting her newly learnt knowledge into good use

with great power came great responsibility, "im gonna make you cum," vi said and you gasped for air nodding along to her words eitherway

you screamed as you came all over the dildo, liquids gushing out of your pussy obscenely vi didn't waste a second and lurched her mouth towards your pussy greedily lapping up at whatever came out of your pussy

you were sure this girl was obsessed with you

you smiled at her, entangling your fingers in her hair absentmindedly, "I'm thinking of making this relationship exclusive you get me?"

"exclusive?" vi looked up, tongue still pressed against your clit

"yeah," you answered and let out a small breathy sigh, "we'll have to... make some improvements though," you said and continued running your fingers through her hair as she licked and sucked your pussy obediently

she'd have to be able to fit in, huh...?

[nick-writes-stuff]

Luck Runs Out

Seong Gi-hun x gn!reader

summary: You've been by Seong Gi-hun's side through all of it, and despite his best efforts, you stuck with him even after his usual demeanor hardened from the traumatic experiences in the games. As he prepares to infiltrate and end the games once and for all, both of your feelings for each other emerge. (~7.6k words)

!warnings: canon-typical violence, implied suicidal throughts/actions, verbal arguments, use of y/n, mega hurt/mega comfort

a/n: i'm actually really happy with this one, guys. no clue what the next fic will be yet. if you have an idea, send me a request, and i'll see what i can do! ily all and hope you enjoy <33

You have always joked with your friend Seong Gi-hun by saying that he is the luckiest man in the world. This was entirely sarcastic most of the time. Misfortune seemed to be woven into his DNA. Nothing ever went his way, and the few times that things worked out for him seemed to be a sign for more hardship to come.

Things changed in his life quite often. Money came and went. Jobs were often short-lived, and the one that did last a long time ended in a deadly strike. He got married and had Ga-yeong, and it seemed like things were going well, and then the divorce happened and he lost custody. He had to move back in with his mom because he couldn't afford both his rent and his gambling habits.

The one constant had been you. You had been close friends with him and Sang-woo growing up, but you hadn't moved away to university like the latter. You stayed local and worked a fairly steady job. You lived comfortably but definitely not as wealthy as the pride of Ssangmun-dong was. (Well, at least not as wealthy as you thought he was.)

Gi-hun definitely took you for granted sometimes. He asked you for money more often than he'd like to admit. You tried to help him when you could, but sometimes you had to give him the hard truth. It annoyed you sometimes that you knew the money you gave him was likely going right to the horse races, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt because you wanted to believe your friend could turn things around.

And it wasn't like he was just using you for your money. He was genuinely a great friend who was trying to make up for his faults. He'd always try to do something for you to metaphorically repay his debt to you. Sometimes, it would be as simple as bringing you some snack or trinket when he stopped by to visit, likely something he stumbled upon rather than an actually planned out gift. Other times, he would insist on doing something for you, like running errands or trying to fix the valve you had been complaining about. Sure, it didn't repay the actual money, but it was the principle of his actions that you found endearing.

You would be lying to yourself to say that your feelings for him were purely platonic. You'd been smitten with him since you were kids. You assumed he just thought of you as a friend, which is a fair assumption seeing as he married someone who wasn't you. You admired his compassion. He would give someone the shirt off his back if he was able. He was selfless and kind and funny. He had some rough edges, but you couldn't fault him for that.

He also recognized you as a constant in his life. When so many other things were changing rapidly, he could rely on you. Even when everything else seemed to be against him, when everyone else seemed to have moved on without him, you were there for him when he needed you.

His feelings for you were a bit more complicated. He always felt very close to you, but that's normal for friends, right? When they were younger, Sang-woo was quick to notice Gi-hun's adoration of you, but he always insisted you were just friends. There were a few times that he did consider testing the waters and ask you, but he always chickened out before he could. Plus, you deserve someone better than him. Someone without his faults. So he started seeing Eun-ji. She was nice, thoughtful, and pretty. But she wasn't you. He pushed any feelings for you into the deep recesses of his mind, and they only presented themselves in the dark of night when he couldn't sleep.

Despite being two idiots in love who didn't realize it, you stayed close through the years. But not close enough to recognize the elephant in the room.

Your feelings for him finally resurfaced shortly after Gi-hun had left for the games, although you hadn't known that was what he was doing. You were worried that he got himself into trouble with his loan sharks, and something happened. You were even more worried that he ran off, never to be seen again.

You learned of his disappearance from his mother calling you. She asked if you had seen him recently and you realized that you hadn't. She requested that you run an errand for her as she wasn't feeling the greatest. You had the free time, so you did. You arrived at their apartment to find her unresponsive. She was alive, thank goodness, but she was in rough shape. You got her to the hospital, using whatever money you had to spare to pay for the ambulance ride.

While she was getting treated, you were pacing in the waiting room, trying to get into contact with Gi-hun. Calls and texts left unanswered. You tried to call as many of Gi-hun's friends as you knew and had contact information for. Jung-bae hadn't heard from him in days. You even tried calling Sang-woo in hopes he would have answers, but that too was unanswered.

At one point, a nurse stepped out into the waiting room. “Are you Ms. Mal-soon's next of kin?” She asked gently.

The question caught you off guard for 2 reasons. Firstly, you were so invested in his mother's wellbeing that you were assumed to be her next of kin while her own son was off doing God knows what. But more importantly, hospitals don't usually inquire about that without something being seriously wrong.

You shook your head. “No, I'm just a friend of her son's.” You said.

“Do you have a way to reach him?” She asked.

You sighed. “Yeah, I've been trying to call him. Do you have something you want me to tell him?” You asked.

She nodded. “Tell him to get here as soon as he can. She's trying to refuse treatment, and I hope he can talk some sense into her.” She said, sounding somewhat exasperated. You gave her a knowing look. Mal-soon was a stubborn woman.

“I'll let him know. Thank you.” You said, giving her a slight bow. She turned and left, so you continued your efforts to call Gi-hun.

It was another 20 minutes before he answered the phone.

“Gi-hun, thank God. What were you doing that you couldn't answer?” You asked.

He sighed. “It's a long story.” He dismissed that line of conversation. There was no way he could explain that to you right now. “What's going on?” He asked.

“Your mom is in the hospital right now. I can explain more later, but you need to get here.” You said.

You heard him curse on the other end of the line. “I'll be there in ten.” He said. before hanging up the phone.

It was more like 20 before he made it to the hospital. You didn't leave until you knew he was there. While he was talking with the doctor, his mom left the building. You got a call from him later that evening.

You didn't let him get started on any small talk. “Where the hell were you?” You asked. You were stern but also concerned.

He sighed. “That's not important right no-”

“Not important? Really?” You interrupted. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down. “You scared the shit out of me, you know that, right?” You weren't angry, just worried.

He knew you were just concerned for him. So his answer was only going to make you more worried. “Listen. Remember when I told you about that business card?” He asked.

“Oh my God, don't tell me you actually went there.” You said.

“I did.” He admitted. He didn't want to explain further. He didn't need to burden you with that information. How do you even explain that to someone?

You could tell from his tone that it hadn't gone well there. He sounded so defeated.

“Y/N, I hate to do this but-”

You scoffed. “Are you serious?”

“I know, I know. But she needs treatment, and we can't afford it right now.” He said. He didn't even know why he was asking you. You didn't deserve to be treated this way.

“Gi-hun.” You started. You tried to keep your voice from breaking. You didn't want to say no. You knew he always felt like a scumbag anytime you had this conversation. You hated to say it, but you stood your ground. “I wish I could help, I really do. But I can't. I already used what I had to spare to pay for the ambulance.” You said.

This was new information to him. “You did?” He sounded in disbelief. How could you care so much for them when he treated you like this?

“Of course I did.” You said softly.

He laughed. “I don't deserve a friend like you, y/n.”

You flinched upon hearing his words. It felt like they pierced through you. You'd always be just a (friend), wouldn't you?

The second he said the words he wished he could take them back. It felt wrong to say for some reason.

The line went quiet for a moment. “I'll see what I can do.” You said softly.

“Thank you.” He said.

You hung up the phone, taking a few deep breaths before going about your evening. Later on, you got a text from him:

Hey. I've decided that I'm gonna go back to play those games. Can you check on my mom while I'm gone? I'll make it up to you, I swear.

You sighed, staring at the words as you tried to assess your feelings about this situation. It was complicated, to say the least. You desperately tried not to feel used. You were just covering for him while he ran off to do something that would probably be more trouble than it's worth. But he was your friend. That's what friends do, right?

You typed back: Yeah, I can stop by when I get a chance. How long will you be gone?

His response was fast. Not sure. It might be a few days.

You had plenty of questions about this. How was he going somewhere to play ddajki for a few days? You didn't get a chance to ask before he started typing again.

He was thinking of how to address the elephant in the room that you had no way of knowing it existed. How do you tell your best friend that you might not come back? How does he tell you he might die in pursuit of the money he desperately needed? If he told you, you would try to talk him out of it. And he knew himself, you would definitely convince him to stay. But if he didn't tell you and he died, you would assume he walked out on you like he does everyone else. The last person in the world who still saw the good in him would see the truth.

He stopped typing. He had to do this. There was no other way.

You furrowed your eyebrows as the tiny message bubble disappeared. You replied: Keep me updated if you can. Good luck with the games :)

He smiled slightly, but it was fleeting.

Thanks, I'm gonna need it.

He really did need it. He felt like nothing had gone how he expected it through the entirety of the games. He picked the hardest shape in dalgona, faced one of the strongest teams in tug of war, and paired with his closest ally in Marbles. Overall, a few hundred people died in his attempt to survive. Most were not by his own hand, but he still felt the overwhelming guilt of every life lost like he was at fault. He made it through all of this, but it never felt like he had a say in any of it. He felt like the universe was stringing him along to see what other hell he could be put through.

You kept to your word. You tried to stop in to see his mother once a day. You made excuses to see her. One day, you made too much food and gave her the leftovers. The next, Sang-woo's mother asked you to deliver something to her. She seemed somewhat suspicious with your intentions, but you could tell deep down that she appreciated your concern. She seemed mostly fine. She was more tired than usual and a bit less lively, but you hadn't thought that her condition was worsening.

At one point, she even asked you, “How come you seem to care about me more than my own son?”

The words tugged on your heart. “Gi-hun cares. I'm sure he's trying his best to be able to pay for your treatment.” You said. You weren't lying. He was trying his best. Unbeknownst to you, he was putting his life on the line for her.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Then where is he?” She asked. You didn't have an answer for her. “You have too much faith in him. The quicker you see the truth, the better.”

You should have defended him. You wanted to. But you just couldn't. He'd been gone for how many days without a word. Was she right? Were you just too naive? Maybe he really did skip town and leave you behind. You didn't want to believe it, but you couldn't find a different explanation at the moment. You made your excuse to leave as soon as you could.

You tried to cling onto hope as long as you could. It all came to a head one night when you stopped after you had a double shift at work. You knew it was late, but you wanted to stop by since you hadn't been able to all day.

You knocked on the door. No answer.

You knocked again. Nothing.

“Mal-soon?” You called.

You strained to hear inside. You could hear something. Almost sounded like crying.

You tried to open the door. It was open. You decided you had the right away to check on her safety. You felt a pit in your stomach as you swung the door open. You took a few steps in to find Gi-hun on the floor holding his mom. She isn't breathing. He hadn't noticed you.

“Gi-hun?” You asked.

He didn't react. He was distraught. Rightfully so, of course.

You knelt down. “Gi-hun!” You called. You reached out to touch his shoulder, and he flinched away violently from your touch. His eyes looked wild, like he had expected you to hurt him.

Your breath hitched as you yanked your hand away. Your eyes were wide. “Hey, it's me. It's just me.” You said softly.

He looked up at you, and the second he recognized you, he threw his arms around you.

You froze for a moment before wrapping your arms around him, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't the time for that.

You didn't know how long you sat there with him. You just sat and comforted him. Your fingers carded through his hair. You didn't say anything. How could you? What would you even say? There are no words in this scenario. You shed tears as well. You have been seeing her so often recently. A part of you blamed yourself, but you didn't voice it. Maybe you missed a sign. You should have come here on your break so you could have prevented it.

Eventually, he confided in you about everything that happened. The games, the death, the violence, the money. Telling you about Sang-woo was the hardest part. You couldn't believe it. You didn't even know he was struggling for money. You didn't even get to say goodbye. He was gone. You'd later see the media expose him for various financial crimes, but he was “evading arrest” according to the police.

The next year of your life involved trying to live with the shell of the man who was left. He hardly did much of anything. He moved into your apartment for the time being. He paid your rent in full, but he refused to touch any more of the money. He hardly ate, hardly sleeping. It was hard to watch your best friend succumb to the demons in his mind, but you stayed with him through it all.

Then, one night, he wasn't home when you arrived home after work. It freaked you out beyond belief. Considering his emotional state, you feared the worst. You tried calling him but he didn't answer. You didn't even know who else to call. You were pretty much the only person who knew he was still here. It probably seemed like he skipped town to everyone else.

But when he came back, there was something different about him. Literally and metaphorically. He had gone and got a goofy haircut. It was cut shorter and dyed a candy apple red. But more than that, he seemed to finally have the spark he once had. You could see your friend through the cracks of his once hardened exterior. He was himself again.

God, you missed him so much despite the fact you had been under the same roof for over a year. You missed the way the skin around his eyes creased when he smiled. You missed the sound of his laugh. You missed the joking and lighthearted teasing. You missed the random acts of kindness he would do when he felt he owed you something. You finally had your friend back, and you couldn't be happier.

He had some business to attend to. You weren't entirely sure what it was, but he assured you it was nothing dangerous. And then he decided he was going to go over to the US to be near Ga-yeong.

It was a bittersweet feeling. You knew it was something he really wanted. Of course, he wanted a chance to be in his daughter's life. You obviously wouldn't try to stop him from doing so. He had every right to go.

But a part of you felt betrayed. His family hadn't even tried to contact him once in the past year. Maybe Ga-yeong wanted to and wasn't allowed to, but as far as you were aware, they didn't even bother to check in with him. Even after his mother died.

But you had stayed with him in his darkest hours. You made sure his daily needs were met when he didn't have the energy to sustain himself. You talked him down from trying to end his suffering. You were woken up by the screams he would let out as he had nightmares. You stayed with him through all of it, and now he was leaving.

You made no attempts to stop him, but you felt a piece of your soul die every time he mentioned it.

He could sense there was something bothering you, but he couldn't find a way to start the conversation about it. He knew you were probably upset about him leaving, but he also knew opening up that line of questioning wouldn't be helpful. Because you both knew there was nothing you could do to stop him, and it would likely just end in an argument. Ignoring it felt like the easiest option for both of you. The path of least resistance.

So you said goodbye. You allowed your best friend, your only friend, leave you. He would probably be happier that way.

He cracked a joke as he left, and you laughed weakly. He closed the door behind him. You were trying to hold yourself together. He lingered outside the door for a moment. You knew because you didn't hear his footsteps leaving the hall.

He was second-guessing his decision as he stood. Were you going to stop him? Maybe you would follow him out and beg for him to stay. You would be able to convince him. He'd give in with little resistance just to be with you.

You didn't open the door.

He waited for a minute or so before walking away, looking somewhat dejected.

When you heard his footsteps fade into silence, you broke down.

He was gone.

You were shocked when he arrived back at your apartment 2 hours after his departure time with dried blood in a trail running down the side of his neck.

“What the hell happened to you?” You asked, stepping back to let him into your apartment.

There was a hint of that panic inside him. The panic you saw in full force the night his mother passed away. But there was also a deep-seated anger. You could see it in his eyes.

“I saw the salesman in the airport terminal.” He said without elaboration.

You had been getting a wet paper towel for him to clean off the blood as he said it. You turned around and gave him a confused look. “Am I supposed to know who that is?” You asked.

“The man who recruits for the games.” He said.

Your eyes went wide. You handed him the towel. “Did he say anything to you?”

He shook his head.

“Why did you come back?” You asked.

He sighed. “I can't just sit by and allow the games to continue. If I did, it would be a slap in the face for all 455 of the others who died. I need to find a way to stop them.”

You were still confused. “Okay, but what's with the blood?” You asked. He hadn't explained, and you wanted to make sure he was okay.

He seemed puzzled until he realized what you were talking about. “They had a chip in me. They were tracking me.” He said.

“Holy shit, why did you cut it out yourself?” You asked, a slightly scolding tone in your voice.

He didn't have a satisfying answer for you.

You left the room to grab a first aid kit to help patch him up. You both felt sparks fly whenever your fingers would graze his skin.

When you dabbed the wound with an antiseptic, he instinctively tried to pull away. You moved your free hand to lightly grab his jaw to hold him in place. You could feel his shoulders shake as his breath was caught in his throat. You assumed it was due to the pain, but in reality, the sudden contact flustered him a bit.

You bandaged him up the best you could with the supplies you had on hand. He probably should have gotten a stitch or two, but you managed to stop the bleeding yourself.

“Promise me that next time you will leave the exploratory surgery for the experts.” You said softly. You phrased it jokingly, but you were dead serious. That could have been dangerous for him if he had nicked something.

He laughed. “How about there's just no next time?”

You smiled, but you had a gut feeling that this wouldn't be the last time this would happen. He displayed almost a disregard for his own safety and it scared the hell out of you.

You once again saw your friend change drastically, but this time, you weren't sure if it was for the better or for the worse. He tried to keep you at an arm's length, likely due to the fact he had seen so many people close to him die.

Even more troubling, he dedicated himself to taking down the games at all cost. He bought a motel to conduct his operation from. It would be his war room. He tried doing it alone for a year or two, but he soon realized this was going to take more work than he could do himself (although you helped when you could).

He started working with Mr. Kim and his lackeys, hiring them to patrol the city to find any activity of the games. Suddenly, every subway station in the city had two men watching over it at all hours of the day. He made them document their patrol and controlled everything from his car with a dozen different electronics to monitor.

You felt like he was making his own game in a way. Stringing along people who are desperate for money, tracking their every move, dangling elusive prize money over their heads if they disagreed. You would never tell him that, but you couldn't get the thought to leave your mind.

He did everything he could. Even if it wasn't entirely legal. He had been getting way too many weapons too quickly for it to be above board.

Deep down, you thought this was a fruitless endeavor. The people who ran the games managed to be completely untraceable for years. They had the money and resources to own an island, a small militia, and a massive crematorium. And Gi-hun was just one man obsessed with taking them down, with a few dozen loan sharks and petty criminals doing his bidding just because of the money that got sent their way.

You tried to support him as best as you could. You often brought him meals when you knew he was working especially hard. He often didn't even remember the last time he ate something, so you figured if you were already making food for yourself, you might as well make him a portion as well.

That's what you were doing when you heard the single gunshot. You had been using your key for the motel door when you heard it ring out. You started panicking, suddenly having difficulty with the lock as your hands trembled.

You feared the worst. A single gunshot isn't typical of a confrontation. It implies intent to kill. And you knew there wasn't supposed to be anyone else in the building.

You eventually got your hands to work to remove the chain. You swung the door open, barely remembering to close it.

You called out his name. Heading toward the back room where he usually stayed, you couldn't stop yourself from getting panicked. You didn't even want to go in the room. You didn't want to see it. You didn't want to walk in to see his body, your best friend dead.

Luckily, that isn't what you saw. Gi-hun was sitting at a table, just staring over the body of another man. The man was slumped over onto the table. You could hear the pattering of blood dripping onto the tile floor.

“Gi-hun, what happened?” You asked, stepping closer to him. You tried to keep your gaze focused on him. The sight of the man in front of him was ghastly. You could smell the metallic scent of his blood in the air, and it made you queasy.

He hardly reacted to your presence, only murmuring a soft, “He lost the game.”

(And reader, you too just lost the game 😉)

Your brain was putting together the pieces of the situation, and every piece of the puzzle only fueled the anger and fear within you. “Please don't tell me you were playing Russian Roulette.” You said. There was a desperation behind your words. You were almost begging for it to be true.

He didn't understand your concern. “Why does it matter? I won anyway.” He said. He carried little regard for his own life at this point. He saw this as a win for the cause. He just killed their recruiter, the man who reaches out to the desperate people to take advantage of them. This was a victory. Why didn't you see that?

You stood there in shock at his words. “What do you mean ‘Why does it matter?’ You could have died.” You said strongly.

“I did what I had to do!” He said, raising his voice at you. Your breath caught in your throat. You tried hopelessly to see your best friend in the man who sat before you. The games really changed him, but that didn't mean you didn't care about him.

“Really?” You countered, “You had to put the gun to your head and pull the trigger? Did he force you to?”

He scoffed. “You don't get it.”

You laughed. “I don't get it? Go on, enlighten me then.” Your sarcasm was just a way to disguise your fear and concern.

He rolled his eyes. “That's how things work with them. The game has to be-”

“Fuck the games!” You cried out. He seemed to sober up a bit at your outburst. You took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. You didn't mean to yell at him. You were just so scared.

“If you are trying to take them down, why do you care about the rules? You could have just shot that man and been done with it.” You said, trying to reason with him.

He didn't say anything in response to your question. He wasn't going to be convinced of anything you said, and he knew he wouldn't be able to explain his thought process. It wasn't worth the argument. He had to follow the rules because that's how things work. He needed an opening to get back into contact with them, and while the game of Russian Roulette killed his only lead, it was the first lead he had in years. He was close.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you.” He said sheepishly.

You sighed. “Me too.” You said softly. You paused for a moment. “Just don't be so reckless, okay? Plus, hearing a single gunshot while you were alone was terrifying.” You said with a light chuckle.

You saw the look of realization on his face when he finally understood why you were so freaked out. “Oh, you thought I-” He started.

You nodded. “Yeah.” You cut him off.

There was an awkward silence before Gi-hun spoke up. “So what did you bring me?” He asked.

His nonchalance about sitting across from a dead man was concerning to you, but unfortunately, it made sense to you since he was probably desensitized after his time in the games. When you've seen enough doom and gloom as he had, you have to be able to laugh, or you'll drive yourself to madness

“Your favorite.” You said, setting the bag holding the food onto the reception desk. “More importantly though, what are you going to do with…” You trailed off, gesturing to the body, “him.”

He sighed. “I haven't the slightest idea.”

You never did find out how he dealt with that situation. You had a busy few day stretch at work, so you hardly had time to stop by the motel. October had always been a busy time at your workplace, but you had managed to get the holiday off. You found yourself at the motel once again. Gi-hun had mentioned that there was going to be their next step on Halloween, and while you were hesitant to get involved, he convinced you to sit in on the meeting. But you were convinced it was just so you could make something for the men to eat, since he always said that your food was “simply the best.”

You sat in the back of the room, just observing the surroundings. You really only recognized one other person, Choi Woo-seok. You frequently used the subway station that he was posted in with Mr. Kim. Your conversations had never gotten much farther than small talk, but even if they had, he seemed to have changed so much after the death of his boss. He was clearly committed to the cause now, with or without the money.

There were also some mercenaries Gi-hun had hired. Something that you doubted was legal but never mentioned. And there was another man as well. You hadn't seen him before today at all, but he seemed to be someone who Gi-hun trusted, seeing as he was so close to the investigation.

You were really only half paying attention, idly fidgeting with the bracelet you were wearing. You knew that you weren't going to be involved in the actual operation itself, so you didn't have that much of a need to listen. But when you did tune in, you felt like you got punched in the face.

“So what is your plan when you meet with the man in charge?” One of the mercenaries asked.

Gi-hun answered, “I'm going to ask to go back into the games.”

Your head shot up to look at him. You wished you misheard him, but you knew you didn't. He didn't look at you, almost like he was ashamed that you heard it. But he knew what he was doing. He invited you intentionally so you knew what was going on, but he was hoping to leave as soon as they were done with the meeting. As much as it made him feel like a deadbeat, he knew he couldn't bear to face you after you learned of the plan.

Unfortunately for him, you were stubborn as a mule.

While they were getting things ready to leave, you made your way over to him. “May I have a word with you?” You asked. Your voice was soft, but your tone was less like a question and more like an order.

He unwillingly followed you out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you both.

“What the fuck are you thinking?” You asked the second the door shut.

He rolled his eyes slightly. “How else will I get to the island? We can't even find it. If I go in as a player, it'll be easy.” He said.

You scoffed. “Yeah and what happens when the games start?”

“I'll have the tracker so the guys can find me. Plus, I've played the games before, so I'll know how to make it through them this time.” He said.

“What makes you think they'll follow their own rules?” You asked.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. “The rules are of high importance to them. They wouldn't break them, trust me.” He said.

“That was before you were hell bent on taking down the regime. They could just kill you. I don't know why you aren't getting that.” You said. Your voice was starting to waver slightly as your emotions rose. You couldn't even begin to identify the feelings swirling around in your brain.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Then that's a risk I'm willing to take.”

“Why?!” You asked loudly. He looked like a deer in headlights. “Is this really that important to you that you'll throw your life away for it?” You asked.

“How many lives were thrown away because of the games? Something needs to change.” He said. You could hear the determination in his voice, but to you, it sounded like blind faith.

“I understand that, but is it really worth dying for? Not seeing your daughter?” You asked. The words ‘not seeing me’ were left unsaid.

You seem to have struck a nerve, but he didn't respond with anger. “I'm the only person who has a decent shot in pulling it off. I know what I'm doing.” He sighed.

You fight off the tears forming in your eyes. “What happens when your luck runs out? You're staking your life on blind faith.” you asked quietly. You met his eyes to see that his were glassy as well. You wrapped your arms around your torso, hoping to soothe yourself to an extent.

After a moment of silence, you continued speaking. “I'm just so fucking scared, Gi-hun. I can't lose you too, I can't.” You said, voice becoming more frantic. The second a tear rolled down your cheek his arms were around you, engulfing you into his embrace.

You cried into his chest as he rubbed your back so gently. He didn't know what to say to comfort you because the only thing that would calm your fears would be him deciding not to go, and you both knew that wasn't going to happen.

You felt him take a deep breath, his shoulders shaking slightly. He was crying at this point, too. He felt so bad for you. He knew he was causing you pain and distress, but he knew that he needed to do it. Why did he have to hurt everyone he loved? You were the one person he had left in his life, and he was walking out on you again. You understood his reason, but it still hurt you.

After a few moments, Gi-hun spoke. “I love you.” He said softly. It was his first time saying it, but it was a fact he had known for years. He had always been too afraid to say it. He ended up pushing everyone he loved away, and he didn't want to lose you, too. But leaving it unsaid and keeping you at an arm's length was doing the same. He realized that now, and since he was walking into danger again, he wasn't going to make the mistake of not letting you know. You had to know. He hoped his show of devotion could give you hope that he would do anything necessary to make it home to you.

You didn't pull back to look at him. You just hugged him tighter. “I love you too. I always have.” You replied. Those words had been caged by your fear of ruining your friendship, but now they were let free. It felt like a weight off your chest.

“I promise, I'm going to make it out of there, okay?” He said. He meant it wholeheartedly, but you both knew that the promise could very well become empty.

You pulled away from his embrace. “You better. If you don't, I'll kill you myself.” You said with a slight smile across your face. He laughed at your contradiction.

You just looked up at him, contemplating leaning in to kiss him, but the door to the hall swung open. You both turned to look at the noise, and Gi-hun cleared his throat awkwardly. Woo-seok stood in the doorway. “We should really get going.” He said.

You both met each other's eyes again. “Good luck.” You said.

He gave you a slight bow of his head before leaving. You tried to push down the fact that this might be the last time you saw him. Repressing it seemed to be the easiest way to continue functioning.

You had stayed in the motel until the rest of them returned, sans Gi-hun. You tried to ignore the pit in your stomach that grew as you realized there was no going back.

You exchanged phone numbers with Woo-seok and the other man you didn't know until then, Hwang Jun-ho. You asked them to send you updates when they could.

For the next few days, you tried to keep yourself as busy as you could. If you were working, your mind couldn't wander. You couldn't think about the fact your best friend might never come home. The man you loved might be gone forever. There's nothing you can do anymore.

This need to be busy only intensified after Jun-ho had told you that they found the tracking chip in the bait of a fisherman. The gamemakers ruined the one way they definitely would be able to bring Gi-hun home. There was no telling where he was anymore, although the men went with the boat captain to search the sea regardless.

You worked as many shifts at work as you could. You were only home long enough to pass out for a few hours before you had to get up to do it again.

That was until you passed out at work. Your boss wanted to take you to the hospital to be checked out, but you refused. You knew it was probably because you were dehydrated and not eating regularly. Your boss gave you a few days off to rest, and there was no convincing them otherwise.

Being at your apartment was basically torture. You could only do so much to distract yourself there. Plus, you found little reminders of Gi-hun's presence (or lack thereof) in your home. And being at the motel was worse. It, too, was empty for most of the time. There were two mercenaries stationed there, just in case something would happen. They had plenty of resources needed for the cause there, so Gi-hun wanted to protect it. Plus, the two men left behind weren't sociable at all.

So you stayed home. Most of your time was spent on the couch, sitting idly while reruns of some TV show you'd never seen before played in the background of your anxiety-ridden thoughts. Sometimes, when you needed to be actively doing something, you kept your apartment spotless in an attempt to keep yourself busy.

You didn't know how long they should expect him to be gone for. You knew that back during his first games, he had been gone for maybe 5 days after he told you he was going back to the games.

As it neared two weeks of waiting, you started to accept that he was probably dead. You weren't being given updates anymore, probably because there weren't any to give. There was no way to get leads when every plan had failed so far.

You were once again zoned out on the couch. It was nearing the time most people would eat dinner, but you didn't feel like eating right now. It was hard to eat when the pit in your stomach felt like it was swallowing you whole. You were sitting on the couch, unfocused gaze watching the TV screen while your mind was elsewhere.

Until you heard a knock at the door. You heard the noise, but you hadn't realized what it actually was. Maybe it was in someone else's apartment. Maybe you were just hearing things.

The knock rang out once more. You recognized it was at your door, but you were trying to get yourself the motivation to go see who it was. When it happened a third time, you finally got up. You ought to give them a piece of your mind for disturbing you. You weren't expecting anyone. It was probably a traveling salesman or some American missionary or something.

You twisted the handle. “What do you wa-” You started to ask as you opened the door, but your words got caught in your throat at the sight.

It's him. It's really him.

Your arms were around him within milliseconds, pulling him into a hug a bit more roughly than he was expecting.

He chuckled softly. “Easy there.” He said jokingly. He slowly helped to move you back a step so he could shut the door behind you both before he embraced you once again.

You were crying the second you laid your eyes on him. Happy tears this time. He's back. He's really back. Your fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt, shoulders shaking with your sobs.

He'd be lying if he claimed he hadn't shed a few tears. He was exhausted, but he was just so relieved to be back. To be here with you. To have you in his arms again.

He stood there in your embrace, comforting you with infinite patience. He rubbed your back gently. He occasionally murmured something to remind you he was here. He's not going anywhere. He loves you so much, you know that, right?

You stopped crying, instead turning your head so your ear was against his chest. You listened to his heartbeat like it was a prayer. He's alive. He's alive and back home with you, and listening to the steady rhythm helped you realize that.

Even after you calmed down, neither of you wanted to let go of the other. You both had feared you wouldn't get to do this again, so you wanted to savor the moment for as long as you could.

You were the first to pull away. You wanted to ask him about what happened. But there was something else that Gi-hun had feared he would never get to do.

Before you even had a chance to speak, his lips crashed into yours. You were in shock for a moment, but it didn't take long for your brain to catch up and kiss him back. It was full of desperation and longing and love, and it felt incredible. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers idly toying with hair.

Eventually, you both pulled away for air. You laughed breathlessly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to do that.” He said quietly, only making the blush on your face more obvious.

You cleared your throat. You tried to stutter out an agreement, but you couldn't form the words. Instead, you nodded vigorously with a soft “Y-yeah.”

He laughed at your flustered demeanor. Knowing he was responsible for that made him stirred butterflies in his stomach.

You interrupted his laughter with another kiss. You smiled into it, slowly trailing your hands from his neck to his chest. You felt his breath hitch at the movement. This kiss was softer and sweeter.

When you pulled away, you looked up at him. “You're probably starving. Go get yourself cleaned up, I'll start working on making something to eat.” You said.

“You're the best.” He said, a smile creeping onto his face.

You smirked. “I know.” He rolled his eyes slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before heading off down the hallway.

You know, you should have assumed there was a larger depth to your relationship once he had spare clothes in your apartment.

After he walked away, you couldn't wipe the stupid smile off your face. You were just happy. For the first time in a long time, you were happy. Happy he was safe, obviously, but also relieved that your previously unrequited love wasn't really unrequited. Having it out in the open was freeing, exhilarating even.

You started working on preparing a meal. His favorite, of course. As the food started cooking, you suddenly realized how hungry you actually were. The apartment was quiet, except for the running water, and a sound that you swore was Gi-hun humming in the shower.

After a while, he must have left the hallway without you seeing him. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, the sudden contact making you jump.

“Fuck you.” You said with no malice.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How much longer do you think?” He asked.

You sighed in mock annoyance. “It would probably go faster if I didn't have you clinging onto me like a koala.” You said.

He didn't let go, instead burying his head into the crook of your neck. He was mentally scolding himself for not having the guts to accept his feelings until now. He also regretted every time he took you for granted. Every time he gambled the money that you were able to spare. Every time he kept you at arms length in order to save himself the pain of losing you like he had everyone else.

Ultimately, all of those decisions led him to this moment. Fate, luck, destiny, call it whatever you want. All of it led to this. And this was fucking amazing. While holding you in his arms, he started to believe he really was the luckiest man in the world.

[merakiui]

HALLOWEENIE. [3]

skully j. graves x (female) reader cw: nsfw, retail au, smoking, modern au (no magic), cheesy workplace romance, may be ooc (some creative liberties were taken for various aspects of skully's character and may not align with characteristics shown in tnbc event), characters written as 18+ note - skully returns for another season of work at fellow honest's halloween store. is this the year he finally musters the courage to confess to his cherished coworker, or is it going to be another year spent with his nose buried in his poetry journal? // split into three parts due to size. read part one and part two.

Fellow saves everyone from the nail-biting tension by not scheduling you and Skully together, which takes the duo out of his prized Dynamic Duo. Now you’re just a disaster. Skully doesn’t fade into obscurity, though. Rather, he’s ever-present in your thoughts. You think about him when you drag yourself down the halls at school, occasionally sticking your head into the drama club or the music room in hopes of spotting him. You’re not sure why. You’ve never had anything to do with either of those spaces, but now you’re haunting them like a pesky poltergeist in search of something just out of your grasp.

That’s what it feels like to have this cavern open up between you and him. As if you’re confined to separate worlds. You dwell in the realm of the dead and Skully exists in flesh. It’s impossible to cross paths like this.

No one seems to know of him either, which makes him seem more cryptid than he actually is. When you interrupt a drama club meeting with, “Which one of you nerds knows Skully J. Graves?” they blink owlishly at you.

You’re beginning to think he really is the ghost and you’re actually the living person.

You’ve considered visiting him during one of his shifts, but then you’d be no better than Salad Fingers.

This is so lame. Why do I care so much? I shouldn’t, you think, scrolling on your phone while Rollo does inventory for Fellow. You search for Skully’s number before remembering you never exchanged contact information.

“Your moping is bringing sales down.” Fellow raps his cane against the linoleum to get your attention.

“I’d argue it’s bringing in more business. Not often the customers get to see me without my usual swag.”

“That’s what she’s calling it?” Rollo mutters from behind his clipboard.

“Miss (Name), it pains me to see you in such a tizzy. Skully hasn’t been any better, I assure you.”

You perk up at the mention of him. “What does he say? Does he talk about me? Does he hate me? Should I disappear forever and never return to this town?”

“Whoa, whoa! Where is this coming from? Honestly, the youth are so complicated nowadays.” It’s a whack from Gidel’s hammer that sets Fellow straight. “Ahem! Right. What I meant to say was that it’s obvious this situation is causing a fair bit of trouble for both of you. These conditions limit your ability to work as you normally would. As your boss, I should only intervene when it’s truly detrimental, but as someone with a brain I think we’d all benefit from a quick solution to this mess.”

“Believe me—if I could wave my magic wand and fix this, I would. But we can’t just kiss and make up. I hurt his feelings.” You run your finger over your phone and catch your shattered expression in the cracked screen. “No amount of apologizing can undo that.”

“You ought to know he asks after you.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“It’s true,” Rollo adds. “Incessantly.”

“Why?” When all three of them look at you like it couldn’t be more obvious, you throw your arms up. “No one answer that. I’ll take you out back and curb you if you do.”

“I won’t speak on Skully’s behalf, but I believe it’s rational to assume he would never want you to disappear.”

“And he certainly wouldn’t hate you. Goodness, I don’t think that boy has the heart to harbor hate.”

“No, he does. He definitely does,” comes your and Rollo’s swift correction.

Gidel opens to a page in his notebook, where he’s doodled you and Skully holding hands in a heart. It reminds you of the flower wreath, which still resides on your desk even though the flowers are beginning to curl up and wilt.

You groan and slump in your chair, arms hanging limply at your sides. “Halloween’s in two weeks! If I can’t find some way to make it up to him, he’s gonna spend his favorite holiday sad and miserable.”

“Heartbreak isn’t something you can simply mend with goodwill. It’s a process. You heal over time.” Melancholy descends on Rollo’s face. You get the feeling he’s weathered the woes of a broken heart before. If anyone understands loss, it’s Rollo Flamme.

He loves me and I crushed him.

“You don’t think I gave him false hope, do you?”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“Even though it was as clear as glass to anyone looking in,” Fellow murmurs, and you choose to ignore that. “Well, what’s done is done. Cliché as it sounds, you can only move forward from here.”

You lift yourself off the chair and stretch. “I’ll grab the broom and get to sweeping.”

“Don’t bother. We won’t do all of that tonight.”

“Ooh, looks like someone was bitten by the bug of benevolence. How sweet.”

Fellow chuckles and collects the completed inventory from Rollo. “You’re free to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. And, Miss (Name), try to get some sleep.”

Immediately, you open the camera on your phone to check for any noticeable signs of sleep deprivation. Finding none, you scowl at Fellow.

“Not funny. I actually thought you were being serious.”

“But you checked.”

“That she did,” Rollo notes with a small grin.

“Because you—ugh. You could’ve just said my shoes are untied.” You click past the both of them in your Mary Jane pumps. “What does it matter if I’m losing sleep?”

“Are you?” 

“I’m not. Shut up.”

You’ll bury yourself alongside the worms and maggots before you confide in them about your recent sleepless nights, each one punctuated with a replay of your fight with Skully and all the ways it could’ve gone differently had you just been honest.

There are two sides to your honesty: the lies that can pass as the truth and the actual truth—the truth you were keen to shelve ever since it cropped up.

The truth that feels a little like the onset of…

You won’t dwell on it or the profound consequence it has on tonight’s dreams.

You’d praise the convenience that is small town logic if it applied to Skully. In this foothill town enshrouded in trees and mountain peaks, everyone knows everyone. Students only have one choice for university, and it’s a dinosaur-aged institution that’s probably seen every era and more with countless graduating classes having been fostered in its brick walls. If you’re searching for someone, you shouldn’t have to look very far. Inevitably, you’ll stumble upon someone who knows someone who knows someone who can get you into contact with that person. Everyone’s stapled into the paper chain here.

Everyone except Skully, apparently. 

It continues to baffle you that no one—not even any of the students in his classes or club—knows of his existence.

“Skully J. Graves,” you stress to the head of the drama club, who stares absently in reply. “He’s literally in your club. White hair, glasses, tall, kinda nerdy but overall really sweet. Does any of that ring a bell?”

When you’re met with silence from him and the rest of the club, you smack your hand against your face and groan. “Jack Skellington.”

A murmur of collective consideration sweeps through the group.

“You mean that weird guy who keeps to himself?” a girl pipes up.

You give her a censorious look. “You’re gonna hafta be more specific, girlfriend. You’re naming, like, a decent chunk of the school’s population.” 

“Always has his face in his books,” another offers. “Not really friendly, that one. Definitely on the quiet side.”

“And he’s usually scribbling stuff in a journal during club meetings, right?” a third student asks.

“Yes!” You clap. “That’s my guy!”

“Ohh, you’re talking about Halloweenie,” the head of the drama club says, snapping his  fingers once the descriptions finally click.

Halloweenie?

You’ve known Skully to go by all kinds of nicknames at the shop: Skulls, Skeleton, my boy, and (from snotty Salad Fingers), Prince of Darkness. This one, however, is brand-new. You don’t need a thesaurus to get the general gist of the meaning behind that self-explanatory name.

“What do you want with him?”

Apple-red lips curl up into an impish grin, and you lift your finger in shush. “It’s a secret.”

“Well, good luck finding him,” he says with a snort. “Halloweenie’s practically a ghost when he isn’t working on props for the shows. He could be anywhere on campus.”

The rest of the club confirm this with mechanical nods. It’s so synced it’s almost like they’re a group of mind-controlled marionettes.

I can’t believe none of these losers know where Skulls is.

You remember browsing the drama club’s website with Rollo. Skully was noted as an ordinary stagehand there. Once more, it seems like fate is having a grand time keeping the two of you apart. Maybe it’s better that way. Maybe you don’t deserve a friend like Skully.

Before you can sink into self-deprecation, you whirl towards the door. 

“You come by looking for Halloweenie a lot, y’know,” a member accuses, arms folded like some hard-boiled detective. “You into him?”

What the fuck? Why is everyone assuming that?

“Nooo—oh, hey! What’s this?” You point to the poster pasted on the door. The words Drama Club Presents: A Thrilling Tale of Treacherous Love and Music! are printed in fancy font above an infamous mask. “Is this what you’re putting on for this year?”

“For Christmas, yes. It was either that or an actual Christmas play. Like ‘A Christmas Carol’ or something equally festive. Majority wanted the charming and dangerous Opera Ghost.”

“Good taste. So where can I audition?”

“Can you sing?”

“In the shower.”

“Can you act?”

“What is life if not the stage we play on?” you counter, stealing a philosophical page from your boss’s book of esoteric wisdom.

The head of the drama club isn’t impressed. To be honest, you’re not either. An actor’s life is not for you.

“Why? No offense, (Name), but you’ve never been interested in us or the work we do. You’ve gotta have passion and soul to put yourself on that stage—something you so clearly lack. If you’re only doing it for Halloweenie—”

“That stings, Prez. And here I was ready to dazzle my way to stardom.”

“Sure.” He rolls his eyes. “If you have no other business with us, have a good day.”

Are all the presidents in this school hard-asses?

Sensing your presence is no longer welcome, you wink and take your leave.

Now left to aimlessly wander the halls, you think back on Skully’s lamentations from before: I was all alone before you moved here—nothing more than a quiet, transparent existence.

You know what that’s like because that’s exactly how you lived when you were growing up. There is no trick to surviving the devils of childhood. You just have to hope that if you’re silent enough they’ll leave you alone. Because hiding beneath the covers only works when they’re figments of your imagination. When they’re very real and oh-so-tangible, they can dismantle the seemingly impenetrable blanket fortress you put so much faith in.

If you lived as a ghost back there, then this dreary town was your resurrection.

Perhaps she, sitting solitary on her throne, is lonely just like me.

Skully was right. As it happens there is no truth in being accessible to everyone in your infamously obnoxious, effervescent way. You’ve built yourself up on flowery lies—a faux Spider Queen who isn’t so venomous as she’d like everything to believe. The (Name) who smiles and flirts, who holds every bed partner at arm’s length because she’s too scared to let them into her embrace, is a phony.

The Spider Queen is scared of loving and being loved.

That’s why she strings everyone up in her web, never letting them know what hides beyond gossamer strands woven so meticulously thick.

Because once they start to disassemble her messy masterpiece they’ll see its flaws and insecurities woven into unmistakable patterns.

Get it together, (Name). No way were you about to throw yourself into a school play all for some guy! Be more swag and less dramatic.

But just as you admonish yourself with that, a discordant note rings out. You failed to realize you were traversing random halls until now, where you find yourself in a desolate corner of the building, just outside the music room. Shaken from your self-doubt, you peek into the room out of plain curiosity…and immediately come to regret it when you spot a familiar head of white hair.

His back is turned to you, head bowed, and he plays according to the sheet music propped in front of him. You linger in the doorway to listen and it hits you then—what he’s playing.

A piano rendition of “The Music of The Night.”

Transfixed, you allow yourself to creep in closer. The soft, soulful melody lulls you into a state of serenity. Watching him and his fingers waltz along the keys, you can’t help but feel like you’ve missed your chance. What that chance might’ve been, you don’t have the guts to name.

Just when he’s about to reach the chorus, he misses a chord and the entire piece falls apart.

“Consarn it!” He slams his hands down on the keys.

You wince at the strident smash that echoes through the room, but nothing is more jarring than his language. You’ve never heard Skully, the quintessence of chivalry, curse so openly, even if it’s very 1800s. But after your argument with him, you’ve acquainted yourself with his temper and all that boils within it.

“It needs to sound just like the song.” The sound of shuffling sheet music follows. “If I can’t get past this chord…” He sighs and taps a few keys in random succession. “My dear will never be impressed with my lousy performance.”

Your heart flips over in your chest, knots itself like Ouroboros, and then collapses into your stomach. Any confidence you had in approaching Skully vanishes in a blip. Of course he’s still into you. Why wouldn’t he be? Rejection and a few weeks of separation aren’t going to undo years of infatuation. Silently cursing the world, you press the heels of your palms into your eyes, realize you’ve just ruined your eyeliner, and drag them away with an aggravated breath.

“Is someone there?”

Skully turns on the bench right as you stumble out of sight. Your sneakers squeak on the tiles as you make your escape, darting around a corridor just in time to avoid the confrontation. That’s all you’re good at. Salad Fingers’s criticisms play in loops. You hasten your steps. Running away.

Rollo’s slender fingers work deftly to lace up your corset. In the background, faintly pouring in from the kitchenette, Halloween music plays. 

“Tighter,” you hiss at him, bracing yourself on the edge of your vanity desk, hips jutted out and ass raised high. “Make it so I can’t breathe—like I’m getting disrespectfully choked by the latex. None of that ‘Love Me Tender’ shit. I need to be fighting for my life in this fit.”

“This is foolish. You should prioritize your comfort over…whatever this is.”

“Aww. You really are an angel, looking out for me and my lungs.”

In retaliation he yanks on the ribbons and the corset cinches around your ribs, effectively stealing your breath. You crumple against the desk with a wheeze.

“Is that tight enough for Her Majesty?” he asks, smirking at you in the mirror. 

“P-Perfect…” You raise a weak thumbs-up. “Thanks, Uriel.”

Rollo rolls his eyes. He looks every bit the modest angel in pure-white robes with accompanying gold accents. The look is finished off with feathery wings, a halo headband, and a pair of open-toed sandals. He adjusts one of the aureate cuffs around his wrist and scrutinizes his reflection in the cheap material. Conversely, you’re dressed as a sexy succubus, all red, tight-fitting, skimpy latex and matching thigh-high stockings. The costume came with horn hair clips, an attachable tail, and a pitchfork. It was your creative idea to accessorize with a black choker, sheer, lacy gloves, and suede knee-high heeled boots. You even got your nails done for the occasion, and they drip in grisly patterns of blood splatter.

“It’s missing something.” You pull Rollo against your hip so he can see what you’re attempting to visualize.

“Your makeup looks fine, (Name).”

“Not that.” Your blunt-toothed, smiling reflection peers back at you. “Oh, I know!” 

You rifle through your makeup box to find them: the packaged fangs you swiped from Fellow’s store just the other day. Your boss graciously gave you and Rollo the day off after it became clear he wasn’t very willing to shell out holiday pay. Knowing your erudite roommate, he would’ve debated Fellow into his grave until he budged. Day off or holiday pay? It would’ve been his losing battle no matter which side of the argument he fell on. 

Gleefully, like a cannibal ripping into a corpse, you tear open the plastic and fit the fangs on over your teeth. 

“What do you think?” you ask, flashing a wicked grin at Rollo. 

“Appropriately hellish. Anymore and the Devil might come up here to give you his regards.”

“Aren’t I just the luckiest girl?” You giggle and nudge him. “You’re not half bad yourself, Bible Study.”

“High praise coming from Satan’s Sweetheart.”

“The Devil wears imitation Prada.”

“‘By all means,’” he quotes, draping a fuzzy jacket over your shoulders, “‘move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me.’”

With a snicker you follow him out the door, playfully poking at his back with the pronged pitchfork to hurry him along. He swipes the car keys on his way.

Paper lanterns and strands of amber-hued lights are strung up on low-hanging branches. In the very center, hollowed out into the ground and circled with sizable stones, is a bonfire pit. The flames lick towards the stars, wavering in time with the bass thumping through the trees. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the swaying silhouettes were monstrous fiends gathered for Halloween night.

Having left your jacket in the car, you’re quick to pull Rollo towards the refreshments. You’re desperate to warm yourself with a few drinks before you make your way towards the fire and the throng of bodies. Rollo, while not the partying type, is very particular with his preferences, so you don’t expect him to jump at the sight of beer. It does, however, startle you when he slides the cloth covering away from the basket draped on his arm to reveal a bottle of sacramental altar wine.

Sometimes you forget your roommate can be cool.

“You’re the best.” You pull him against your side in another hug. He doesn’t fight it. The yellow-orange glow casts shadows on his face, obscuring his pleased smirk. “I cherish you, you know that?”

“Yes, well, I can’t allow you to indulge in this party slop.”

“Amen!”

You squeeze him once before releasing him from your constriction to grab two cheap chalices. After checking to make sure they’re clean and haven’t been tampered with, you stride over to Rollo. You notice he’s eyeing the pit warily, his haunted expression looking much more cadaverous in the firelight. Gently, you shake his shoulder and step in front to intersect his view of the fire.

“Hey, you okay?”

Rollo shakes himself out of his head and loosens his grip on the bottle. “Yes… Yes, I’m fine.”

You want to trust him, so you hold out the cups. “Wanna say our prayers and indulge in the Body of Christ?”

He taps your head with his fist, features drawn in a humorless lour. “Bread is the body. Wine is the blood.”

“My bad, Father.” You pout at him. “Forgive me for my sins and transgressions and everything else. I’m just sooo unholy.”

He spends a quiet moment staring at you—long enough that it has a smile spreading on his lips. He breathes a soft laugh. “What a peculiar choice of words for a demon.”

“Even more peculiar for an angel to be drinking on the job.”

“I suppose that makes us even.” He unscrews the cap and pours a generous amount in both cups. You watch the scarlet liquid slosh within. Capping the bottle, he tucks it away in the basket and takes the cup from you. “Merci.”

“A happy Halloween to us.” You raise your cup and his bumps against yours in toast. “Are you ready to be dead on your feet for tomorrow’s shift?”

“Only undead,” he replies, following you to a fallen tree. “I’m driving, so I mustn’t become too much of a zombie.”

“Who cares about coherency? Live it up tonight! We can sleep in the car. I’ve got pillows and blankets in there.”

“Mhm,” he hums around the plastic rim.

You plop down on the tree trunk and take a gulp, smacking your lips in approval. “If it’s cold, we can just cuddle.” You bump shoulders with him.

“I’ll pass. The last thing I need to earn is more of Skully’s frosty envy. I’d like for my plants to survive winter, if possible.”

“Ugh, right.” Your gaze drifts to your pitchfork propped against the tree. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I mean, I almost joined the school play for him. That’s bonkers even by my standards.”

“As if the club would allow that.”

“They hate me for my potential.” You click your tongue. “How can I make this…not worse? Because it feels like all I’ve been doing is making it significantly worse.”

“You should have a proper conversation. One that isn’t senseless screaming.”

“He was inside me, Rollo. How the hell am I going to have a ‘proper conversation’ when that’s our history?”

He peers into his chalice, contemplation burning behind his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t expecting you to lay with him. ‘Disprove his alleged crush,’ she said and then proceeded to do the exact opposite.”

“I mean, I don’t want him to think I hate him or that he has to avoid me. That’s not it. And I wasn’t trying to sound so cruel that day. Stuff just slipped out unchecked and he wasn’t listening. It’s not like we can go back to being friends with this whole cloud of unrequited romance hanging over our heads.” Sighing, you draw circles into the leaf-strewn ground with the tip of your boot. “I wish things weren’t so complicated. It’d be easier if he was terrible through and through, but he’s not.”

“What makes it so complicated?”

“His feelings.”

“Are you sure that’s all?”

You narrow your eyes at him, perplexed. “Why? Is there supposed to be something else?”

“What about yourself?”

You chug the rest of the wine in your cup. It burns the back of your throat and straightens out your thoughts. Not so much your heart, though. Rollo takes his time pouring to give you a moment. He even offers you half of a baguette from the depths of his basket, which draws a snort from you.

“What? You can’t drink on an empty stomach. Last time you did that, you sullied the car with your vomit. It took days to clean and freshen up the interior.”

“At least it was pink! That’s much prettier than non-pink barf.” You shake your head, unwilling to argue old news. “Thanks for your concern, Little Red Riding Rollo, but I’m not hungry.”

“I’ve brought an assortment of jams and cheese.”

“Oh, my gosh,” you say around a high cackle. Rollo doesn’t see the humor in any of this, but he still manages a pinched smile. “You’re amazing. The best roomie I’ve ever had.”

“I try.”

“Okay, Father, I yield. Break the bread and let’s give thanks.”

Between sips of altar wine, you and Rollo munch on pieces of baguette spread and topped with strawberry jam and nettle cheese. 

“Why me?” you ask around a mouthful of bread. “I know Skulls isn’t sociable at school—drama club told me all about the unlikable Halloweenie—but I’m sure there are better candidates for him to crush on. I’m a mess. I can’t garden or look after houseplants like you do. I can’t do any of that cute shit girls do on their socials—like live aesthetically or be effortlessly adorable. I don’t think I’m Skulls’s type.”

“Hmm.”

“He said I’m the only one who’s ever understood him, but isn’t that what friends do? You and I understand each other and we’re friends.”

“Somehow that’s different.”

“How? What makes it different?”

Rollo shrugs. He looks like a mouse as he nibbles at his bread and cheese. “Perhaps it’s because my relationship with you is nothing like the one you have with Skully.”

You scowl at the crowd of dancing, costumed partygoers. It’s only different because of love and sex.

“Putting that aside, what makes you think you’re not his type? Have you ever considered what his type might be?”

You hadn’t given it much thought. Skully has never mentioned love and its variations at work. That’s your job—to complain about and commend all of your flings and situationships whenever it’s necessary. To flirt with customers who look wealthy, attractive, or like they’d be good in bed. To aim for a phone number or an exchange of socials when they’re funny, sweet, or just annoying enough to seem charming. Your list of past lovers is as long as a photo spread in a wallet.

“If we consider his poetry,” Rollo says, as if pushing you towards a cliff you don’t want to jump from, “his preferences aren’t so elusive.”

Even though there’s no reason for it, you feel an unusual warmth climbing up to settle under your cheeks. You hurry to tilt your cup back, putting your mouth on the same lipstick stain from earlier.

“So what sort of type is the Spider Queen?”

“She’s meant to be you, is she not?”

But you’re not sure what he sees in you—in the Spider Queen. You annoyed him during the first real conversation you had, back when he was just fifteen and you were an angsty eighteen-year-old trying to look like she hadn’t just gotten disowned by her family. What changed in the four years since then? You remember he absolutely hated the Halloween party and spent the entire time scribbling in a journal. You wouldn’t be surprised if the entry about his first impression of you was written that very night. He has every right to despise you for your rowdy spirit. What he sees in you, you clearly can’t see in yourself. Maybe you’d feel less guilty about the situation if he hated your guts, but that’s not the case.

“I don’t know!” You groan. “Maybe he’s in love with the character he’s created and not me.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Do you have candy in there? I need something that’ll mess me up and make me forget all about this.”

I need to stop running away and face reality.

“I’m certain the alcohol will do the trick.”

And it is. You haven’t kept count of how many chalice-sized drinks you’ve had, and at some point you’ve even swiped the bottle from Rollo’s basket. 

“Shall we address the facts?” he tries again, and you’re tempted to listen because he’s logical enough to sort through the emotions. “Skully is in love with you, a truth too blinding for you to notice, but we were all wearing sunglasses.” You smack him for that and he clears his throat. “Right. The two of you went on a ‘date’ and it ended in bed. You’ve told him you don’t love him. Really, (Name), if your feelings don’t match his, I see no other reason to stump yourself.”

And isn’t that the truth?

But there’s a niggling sense of something more that you can’t confront. You push it down to make room for the wine.

“I need a cigarette.”

“From one vice to the next. Very clever.”

Your acrylics tap anxious pitter-patters against the glass bottle. A distraction would suffice—anything to take your mind off of Skully. If you could saunter into the crowd and fall into the arms of a temporary thrill, you would. It’s what you plan to do as your eyes survey the crowd, cherry-picking faces from the firelight. And then, just past the flickering flames and undulating ghouls, you see him.

“Erik!”

You stand up so quickly that you lurch forward. The bottle almost slips from your grasp. Rollo catches your arm before you can fall.

“What?” Rollo blinks up at you in bewilderment. “(Name), sit down. You’re drunk.”

“Piss off. I know what I saw. Someone’s come as the Phantom.” You throw your head back to suck down the rest of the wine. “And it takes more than that to get me tipsy.”

“Congratulations. How’s the liver?”

“Ha-ha-ha,” you snap, sarcastic. “Unlike you, I’m about to tongue it with the Phantom. Not many can say they did that on Halloween night. Be back soon!”

“No one else is trying to accomplish that!” he calls after you, but you only catch part of it as you beeline for the fray.

Pitchfork in hand, you weave around kissing couples and clusters of friends. You have your sights set on the mysterious Phantom, his back turned to you. You call out to him: “Hey, you!” but your voice is lost in the deafening beats and the ecstatic, tipsy whoops from the partygoers.

“Excuse me! Pardon,” you hiss, pushing past a witch and a knight. “Move.”

You’re nearly there. But then someone knocks into you, and you stumble into another person. He catches you with a whistle, his palms strangely slimy.

“Hey there, little lady. Looks like it’s my lucky night. You sure you’re not actually an angel in disguise?”

You scrunch your face, looking past him. The Phantom is gone. “Fuck!”

“At least introduce yourself.” He laughs and spit speckles your cheek. “Then we can get there, yeah?”

“You want an introduction?” You slam your heel on his foot and are quite pleased when he draws back with a curse. “How’s that for angelic? Happy Halloween, asshole.”

Equipped with a mission, you disappear into the darkness. Stapled to your feet, your shadow stretches into the trees behind you. In hopes of locating the familiar mask or cape, you whirl to and fro. It seems like you’ll never find them, and for a second you wonder if they’re a hallucination birthed from your tumultuous feelings. Of course you’d be imagining the Phantom after that day in the bookstore with Skully. It’s like he’s everyone you look. How could he not be? Halloween is his day.

You hope he’s happy, even if it’s only for tonight.

This is a waste of time. I’m going back.

You pivot on your heel…and there he is. The Phantom of the Opera, hunched over between the trees, his gloved fingers splayed against the rough bark. The exact opposite of graceful and mystifying. More of a mess than a graceful, gothic beauty. Your mouth drops open, and then you cringe when you hear a not-so-musical retch.

Oh.

He’s sick.

“Uh, hi…” You inch closer. “I recognized your costume. You’re supposed to be Erik, right? The Phantom. You know—that guy from the opera?”

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and turns to look at you, woozy and mechanical. Your heart rushes into a gallop when those infamous orange eyes fall upon you. Even with the mask hiding half of his face, you know it’s him. You think he’s worked out your identity as well because he straightens to his full height on unsteady feet, as if he’s been slapped sober. The only indication he’s inebriated is the way he sways like a spinning top on the verge of falling over. 

“Skulls—”

“(Name)—”

“Ah, um. My apologies. You should go first.”

“No, it’s nothing.” You wring your hands around the length of the pitchfork. “Um. You… You came.”

“I was looking for you.” He gestures to the crumpled can at his feet, sheepish. “Found that instead.”

“Why?”

Skully twists the hem of his cloak in his fists. “I wanted to wish you a happy Halloween and show you my costume.”

His costume? You remember he told you and Rollo he was going to dress up as something scary, and while the Phantom is technically a fearsome villain… It’s not the first thing you’d think Skully would go for. Did he dress up for my sake? What if he had another costume planned but changed his mind after—stop that. Don’t go down that rabbit hole.

“But you hate parties.” You poke at the can with your pitchfork. “And you don’t drink.”

His eyes glaze over. You watch his lip tremble. “I’m sorry. I… I thought that if I… If I could just—” He inhales a rattling breath. “If I was more like you—like Mr. Rollo or any of your partners—you might… Y-You might want to—” He breaks off from that sentence with a choked cry and sinks to his knees.

“Skulls…” Lowering to his height, you reach out for him, hesitate for a strained breath, and then gingerly peel the mask away to reveal his teary, snotty face. 

“I’m so s-sorry,” he continues, his voice breaking more and more. “I yelled at you. I wouldn’t listen. I pushed you into a corner and provoked you, and that wasn’t right. I was no better than Salad Fingers.” He places his palms on the ground to steady himself. A sob shudders through his body. Salty globs pool along his lash line and slide down to his chin, landing in steady drops on the leaves below. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair, not fair, not fair! All of those undeserving people who get to behold you! Those… Those foolish, idiotic bastards—none of them are worthy of you. I don’t understand. They never see you. They’re so attached to flimsy, vapid pleasure that they don’t even cherish you properly. Why?”

You manage to find your voice then. “I don’t care about them. I mean, I did. I always care. Just not like…that.”

“So then why? Why do you let them—why won’t you let me—”

Love you?

“Skully, you’re drunk.” Hardening your heart, you stagger to your feet. “Now’s not the time for this.”

Running away again. Typical, Salad Fingers jeers. She’ll eat your heart if you aren’t careful. Save yourself while you can.

You swat his influence away.

A twig snaps behind you. You almost don’t hear it over Skully’s sniveling.

“Do you know how many fools have been pointing me to ‘Grandmother’s House’ whenever I ask after you?” comes Rollo’s voice, every accented syllable threaded through with annoyance. “I’m sick of this asinine nonsense. It’s not even funny. I’m very clearly an angel, and yet everyone thinks I’m on my way to see—oh, Skully’s here. Ahem. Pardon me.”

“It’s just not fair,” he’s mumbling to himself, over and over, like a broken record. He doesn’t even acknowledge Rollo’s arrival or greeting. “Not fair, not fair, not fair.”

“Is he…all right?”

“Does that look ‘all right’ to you, brainiac?” You knock Rollo upside the head with your plastic pitchfork, and he rounds on you with an indignant glare.

“You tell me! I only just found you.” Rollo can’t hide behind his handkerchief, so his frustration is on full display. It twists his features into something loathsome.

“He’s drunk.”

“Clearly.” Sighing, Rollo stoops over him. “Skully, can you hear me? How did you get here?”

He pans his bleary gaze over to him and sniffs. “What’re you supposed to be?”

“God’s little lamb.”

“That’s not terrifying at all.”

“It is if you carry the guilt.” He takes a harsh elbow to the ribs for that, one he begrudgingly accepts with a scoff. “You should go home, Skully.”

“Did someone bring you here?” you ask, peering into his face. It’s hard to imagine him willingly coming with a friend or classmate.

Actually, it’s hard to imagine he came here at all.

He lifts an unsteady arm and gestures in a general direction. “Bicycle,” he says.

A silent debate mushrooms between you Rollo, wedged in the space where your eyes meet.

“He’s a liability,” you whisper after pulling him aside.

“A liability to your love life, maybe, but we can’t just leave him here.”

“I wasn’t saying we should! I just don’t think it’s gonna help if he comes home with us. He’s not thinking straight. And last time he was there…”

“So we drop him off at home and his parents can handle it. I know the way.”

“They’ll kill us. Are you looking to be lectured tonight?”

“He’s nineteen.”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s their baby—all two-hundred-something centimeters of him—and he’s drunk off his ass on Halloween night.”

“He risked a scolding all for you, didn’t he?”

“He…” You groan, unsure of what to say. “I’ve never met a guy like him. He’s in another league of his own.”

“And I don’t suppose he’s ever met a girl quite like you.” Smiling, Rollo cocks his head playfully. “You’re meant to be.”

“I’m meant to punch you in the mouth if you keep talking stupid. Just—ugh, fine, whatever! You carry him back to the car. I’ll get his bike. He can crash with us tonight. A slumbie is safer than getting him and ourselves in trouble with his parents.”

“So the demon’s secretly a good girl.”

“All that altar wine’s going to your head and making you cheeky, ‘God’s little lamb’. I guess you do care for your friends after all.”

Index pressed to his lips, he hushes you. It takes a few minutes of coaxing and “Lift your head, Skully. How else are you going to look up to Jack Skellington?” before Rollo manages to get him to his feet. He’s all gangly limbs as he drapes himself over your roommate, clinging like mildew to a damp corner. Grunting with the effort, Rollo hoists his arm over his shoulders and Skully flops against him like a worm.

Before the two of them begin the hobble to the car, Rollo asks, “Will you be okay on your own?”

“I’m the Devil. There’s nothing I can’t do!” You wave your pitchfork around and flash a fanged smirk. “They don’t call me God’s strongest soldier for nothing.”

“Uh-huh. Well, be safe. If you’re not at the car in the next five minutes…”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll exorcise me on the spot. I hear ya.”

Rollo turns away then. “Could you be any more boneless, Skully?”

“Why, of course I can! Does this help?”

“Wha—hey! Don’t go limp! Stand up straight!”

After locating his bike and wheeling it through the woods to the car, where you and Rollo work together to load it in the back, you both head for the driver’s side.

“I’m driving.”

“No, you’re not. I am.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you merrily sipping your little God juice like a sailor.”

“You had more than me, and it’s not ‘God juice’. It’s sacramental altar wine, sourced from the finest—”

“Blah, blah, blah. My name is Rollo Flamme and I—”

“My wonderful, spectacular, amazing…deeeaaarss,” comes Skully’s slurred voice. He pokes his head out from the back, half-leaning out the open door. “I can drive.”

Rollo stares blankly at the very inebriated Skully.

“Yeah, go on, Rollo. Let the Phantom drive. I trust him with my life.” You stick your arm out and present him with a cheerful thumbs-up.

“Skully, sit back down. And don’t even think of getting sick in the car.”

“Yes, sir.” You hear the click of a buckle and then, miraculously, he passes out.

“Walk a straight line and I’ll let you drive.”

“I got this. Watch.”

You shove your pitchfork at his chest and, looking to make sure he’s observing, walk along the strip that divides the road from the forest. It doesn’t feel like you’re doing it right, your feet blurring and crossing over each other clumsily, but somehow you think it must look straight to Rollo. Once you’re thirty paces from the car, you whip around to hear the verdict.

“Well? Straighter than straight, yeah?”

“About as straight as a rainbow. Now get in.” He opens the passenger side for you and tosses the pitchfork in the back next to a snoring Skully.

Wordlessly, you perform your staggering walk of shame back to the car. The drive home is punctuated by the sophisticated notes of Indila’s Mini World album. The song’s instrumental—the one where you can only parse the lyrics love story—reminds you of a music box. You sink into the worn polyester seat and paint yourself as a princess in a grand, glittering palace. Waiting for you in the gardens, haunting your head like your very own gothic ghost, is the too-tall, dorky Phantom of the Opera.

Maybe it’s the alcohol—it’s definitely more than just the alcohol—but you feel warm thinking about him. So warm you forget you’re not wearing your jacket.

Fuck. This altar wine is really hitting. How are they not partying during every sermon? Oh, wait, they only drink a pinky’s worth. Laaaame.

“I think, if I were to murder someone, I’d get your help getting rid of the body.”

“Please don’t,” Rollo mutters, awkwardly lifting Skully out of the car with your aid.

“Don’t ask for help or…?”

“Don’t make me accomplice to a crime and don’t murder anyone.”

By the time you’ve carried Skully up the stairs to your door, you feel the mawkish beginnings of affection weighing on your shoulders. That, and Skully’s arm.

“Hey, Rollo?”

“Mhm?”

“Thanks.”

“What for?” He fiddles with the keys in the dimness, half-listening.

For being my friend. For never getting tired of me even when I’m nothing but trouble.

“For being my roomie.”

His hand stills. “Don’t be foolish,” he says, clicking his tongue in chastisement. The key twists in the lock. He pushes the door open with his foot, revealing an apartment cloaked in shadow. “You said it yourself. We’re a team. We need to stick together.”

“How else is rent going to be paid?”

He exhales a short, authentic laugh. “That’s the million madol question.”

Skully is deposited on the sofa, snoozing away like it’s the middle of winter and he’s hibernating. After locking the door and flicking on the lights, where you then proceed to hiss like vampires as said lights burn holes into your eyes, you and Rollo roll your stiff shoulders.

“We should stay indoors next Halloween.”

“Agreed. Maybe introverts know what they’re doing. This was exhausting.” Plopping down on a nearby stool, you work to remove your heels. It’s more challenging than it seems, what with alcohol muddling your motor skills. “My feet are killing me.”

Rollo pulls the fridge open and pokes his head inside for mindless inspection. “Hmm. Whose turn is it to buy groceries?” 

“Mine, probably.” You toss your boots across the room and flex your toes. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“We can survive a little longer. At least until the middle of the week.”

You snort. “So are we leaving Skully out here? Should we call his parents?”

“I doubt they’re worried. Not truly.” Rollo shuts the fridge and comes to stand on the other side of the kitchenette peninsula. “It’s a small town with a middling population, and the majority are harmless elders.”

“But what if they think he got murdered?”

“Because someone’s itching to put Halloweenie in his grave. Sure.”

“Okay, fair point.” You glance over your shoulder at Skully, his legs hanging over the end of the armrest. “He’d make for a difficult corpse.”

“If two of us struggled to drag him back here, imagine how much more burdensome he’d be undead.”

“Ooh, a zombie. Something tells me he’d rather be bones than rotting flesh. Just like Jack.”

“Somehow—“ Rollo drums his fingers along the countertop— “I feel it’s poor manners to talk so morbidly of our very alive and well coworker.”

“Mm, probably.” You swivel in your seat. “More importantly, where’s he gonna sleep?”

“I’m keen to leave him here. We’ll dim the lights.”

“Kinda rude to make him sleep on the most uncomfortable couch in the world.”

“It could be worse.” Rollo walks around to the wall opposite of you to lower the switch. The lights lessen in their intensity, from searing to merciful. “Besides, where else is he going to sleep? There isn’t room on my bed.”

“He can sleep in mine,” you say without thinking, and you really aren’t because he looks at you like he can’t believe he’s hearing you right now. “He deserves a comfy bed, at the very least… It’s not gonna mend heartbreak, but it won’t give him stiff joints in the morning.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“On the floor.”

Rollo raises a dark brow. “The (Name) I know would never sacrifice her comfort for someone else.”

“For flings, fuck no. But he’s a friend.”

“All right,” he concedes. “Let’s get him to your room. He’s staying there, though. I’m not going to move him anywhere else.”

“Roger that, roomie.”

Like before, the both of you lift him from the sofa and, taking care not to disturb his slumber, transport him to your room. He’s lowered onto your unmade bed. You move with absolute precision, undoing the clasp around his neck to pull his cape from his person so it won’t tangle around him in sleep. And then you drag a fluffy quilt over him. His fringe falls over his face in a way that reminds you of Sleeping Beauty…only if she had been pie-eyed and prone to vomiting in the hours before her eternal slumber. He looks less of a prince and more of a pale monster.

Sleeping Liability.

You wince. That sounds a lot like something Fellow would say. You’re too young to start thinking and speaking like your boss.

It’s then when you realize you’ve been staring at him like you’re about to lean in for true love’s kiss.

“Are you going to bed?”

“No, I’ll be up.” Rollo rubs his tired eyes and stifles a yawn.

“Try to get some sleep. I’d say let’s watch a movie, but I don’t think I can stay awake for another hour.”

“Don’t force yourself. We all need the sleep for tomorrow’s shift,” he says, but you suspect he’ll be up late into the night and he’ll wake just as early.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. I guarantee Fellow’s gonna be just as sleep-deprived as we are. Gidel probably kept him out as late as he could for trick-or-treating.”

Shaking your head, you begin to pick off pieces of your costume. The detachable tail, the horns, the little fangs. You prop your pitchfork against the vanity desk.

“So we all have valid reasons to complain.”

“I’m always ready to be a hater. No fair we have to go into work after a fun night. Why couldn’t he be nice and give us tomorrow off as well?”

“One can hope.”

“And one does.” You open your closet and retrieve a few spare blankets from within. “Good night, Rollo.”

“Yes. Good night to you as well.”

His footsteps pad down the hall to his room and then you hear him ease the door shut. It’s not even a minute later when your thoughts begin to buzz in your ears. You busy yourself with spreading out the blankets and creating a comfortable place for yourself on the floor, listening to the low hum of a fan in place of soothing music. The fairy lights strung around your bed shine soft light on the snoozing Phantom, who’s curled into your bed like it’s to become the chrysalis that envelops the squishy, vulnerable pupa that is Skully.

You don’t want to think about it. About why he was here tonight and why he came dressed as one of your favorite characters. And the last time he was on your bed was when…

Blotting that memory out, you snuggle into the blankets and rest your head on a sizable plush you’ve swiped from the end of your bed. If you can sleep all of this mess off, you’ll have a better time making sense of it once morning dawns.

That was your plan, but now that you’re in the position for sleep, eyes closed and mind racing, you find yourself unable to settle down. You turn one way and spend the next few minutes in your own head, tossing around Skully’s motives and what everything means. Maybe you’d sink into slumber if you were contemplating brain-bruising philosophy, but when every route leads back to that complex, confounding feeling it leaves your body crackling with nerves.

Shifting over on your back, you gaze up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry, Skully,” you whisper before you can stop yourself. “Salad Fingers was right. I’m only good at running away. I’m the best at being the worst. I’m, like, super, pathetically, abysmally bad at romance. I don’t know how to do it or what it means to feel it. I… I’ve never given myself that chance.”

I’ve spent too long pushing everyone who’s ever tried to love me away. 

You feel around blindly for your goat plush and hug it to your chest. His name is Mini Rollo.

“The truth is that my worst fear isn’t even thunderstorms. I hate those, too, yeah, but it’s love that scares me the most. Which probably sounds really silly to you because you’re so…full of it. Full of love, I mean. And I was afraid. Afraid that you’d found something about me that’s worth loving. I mean, you kinda saw through me from the very beginning and not many people do that. It made me feel so itchy. Like, what the hell? Who does this guy think he is, solving me like I’m some lousy cube puzzle? How’d you do that?”

A weak laugh tumbles out of you then. You’re not sure where the humor is in any of this. Maybe you’re just laughing at yourself.

“What scared me most, though… I caught myself considering it. It’s all I’ve been able to think about, actually.” You bury your face in Mini Rollo to save yourself the embarrassment of addressing a dim room with an unconscious audience. “I really don’t know how you do it. You’re like an infection. Or, uh—hold on. That came out wrong. Ugh. Just as bad as the lice poem. What I meant to say is that you’re so good at making me feel happy. So I guess that means your energy is infectious?”

Sighing, you shut your eyes and place yourself in the memory of that day, swapping cruel cowardice for a real confession. Mini Rollo’s soft head is tucked beneath your chin. “No one’s ever danced in the rain with me before to chase away my anxiety. And they’ve never made me their muse or written pages and pages of poems about me. They’ve never made me smile and laugh as much as you do. They certainly didn’t come to my door to give me an entire handmade flower wreath. That’s the stuff you’d only find in romance novels. You’re seriously one of a kind.” You force another sad, pitiful laugh. “I don’t deserve you or your love. If anything, you’re the cool one. Definitely way more than a fly.”

You’re my Pumpkin King.

“Never mind. What am I saying? Ew, ew. Gross. This is so…yuck.”

Stop talking. You’re making it worse, (Name).

You yank the blanket over your head and stuff down whatever else is threatening to spill out in this moment of alcohol-addled vulnerability. Although you’re not sure how much of that was liquid courage.

Is love supposed to feel so…itchy?

Like a sweater woven from coarse wool. Like an irritating bug bite that’s just out of reach. Like an allergic reaction. 

But then that same love is also so welcoming—a blanket fresh from the dryer, a flattering poem penned from the heart, a dance in the rain. A distinctly Skully-shaped love, one that’s cradled in the cobwebbed confines of his heart. 

You don’t want to run away from that—from him.

Warmed by these revelations, made weightless from the truth, you drift away on a stream of waning consciousness.

Good night, Skully.

Morning trickles through the mountains, bringing with it strips of sun that shine through the thin part of ratty curtains.

Your body is strangely light when it should be heavy with a skull-crushing hangover. Even your mind, which is normally fuzzy and filled with an unshakeable pressure in the dawn of last night’s chaos, is the shape of a Zen garden. You think you hear movement in the kitchen, but your sixth sense tells you it’s still too early and so you roll over in search of Mini Roll, who somehow slipped from your embrace during the night.

You find Skully instead.

He’s squished in the space between your bed and the nest of blankets piled around you, and it leaves you wondering how he managed to get down here. From how soundly he slept last night, you didn’t take him for a restless sleeper. You realize then that his eyes are open, watching you, and suddenly nothing else matters.

Oh.

“H-Hey,” you whisper, cringing at the roughness in your voice.

“Hi.” His voice is no better. More of a crow’s call than fluttery birdsong. “Good morning.”

You’re not sure what to think at first. Is this real? How did he get on your floor? Why is he here? Where’s Rollo? Where’s Mini Rollo?

You reach out; your palm hovers over his head. To save you the trouble, he leans into your hand. He feels real. He looks real.

“There’s only 365 days left until next Halloween,” you blurt.

Skully blinks at you. “364.”

You start to smile. He follows your lead.

He’s real. It wasn’t a dream.

“Um… So,” you start, but he reels back before you can get the rest out. 

“S-Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m much too close.” He scrambles to sit up, but the sudden change in position has him gripping his head. “Spinning… Oh, I feel ill… Please give me a moment and then I assure you I’ll be out of your hair.”

You bare your teeth in an awkward, sympathetic simper. Welcome to hangover hell.

“Why were you on the floor anyway?” you venture, sitting up with him, and then the shitty feelings descend. You hiss out a colorful word.

You realize you’re still wearing your costume from last night and, even though you think you should wrap yourself in a blanket, it’s nothing Skully hasn’t seen before. He’s seen all of you, as a matter of fact, and the knowledge of that sends a timid tremor ricocheting through your veins. You feel like you need to cover up now, as if you’re somehow exposed in your skimpy latex and sheer stockings, and it’s a ridiculous thought. The time for diffidence and modesty has long since passed.

Skully refuses to meet your stare, opting to gaze at a boring corner of your room instead. “I…” He sighs. “I heard you last night. And shortly after you retired… Well, I was struck with a jubilation like no other and I…”

“Rolled right off the bed?”

You picture it then: a squealing Skully squeezing the pillows and kicking his legs out, tangling himself in the sheets, every nerve alight with celebration.

“I’m sorry. I would’ve moved, but I feared I’d wake you if I wasn’t careful. You looked so relaxed… I couldn’t bring myself to risk it, so I remained there until now. Oh, but I promise I didn’t do anything untoward while you slept! I’d never!”

You exhale through your nose. “I trust you, Skulls.” And then you stiffen. “Wait. You heard me? H-How much?”

“All of it?”

You flop back onto the floor and muffle your groan in your hands. Not how you’d been hoping to start your morning. The hangover, you can handle. No problem. Whatever’s going on between you and Skully? Big problem. Massively heart-sized problem.

But you’re not going to tuck your tail and flee. Not this time. You’re better than that.

“I think…” Skully hesitates around the mouthful perched on his tongue. “I acted rashly last night. You saw such a terrible, immature side of me—and on Halloween, no less! There are no words in the dictionary to describe my shame.”

You remember his drunken meltdown. It’s not the prettiest image, but there’s no one else in this world you know of who’d go to such lengths for you. 

“You’re upset. I get it. Alcohol will do that to you. Makes you ten times more of an emotional wreck than you already are. I would know.” You’re not sure where you’re going with this, but you peek through your fingers at him and hope the tenderness in your tone hits its mark. “What I’m trying to say is that I’d like to try. If you don’t mind. If you’ll have me.”

I think I understand now—what I want.

“Try?”

“This. Us.”

He stares at you with dinner plates for eyes. A few seconds of silence bloom between you, and all throughout it he’s growing more pink-cheeked.

“We don’t have to! I mean… I completely understand if you don’t want to after everything. I’m a mess and I haven’t treated this situation very well, but I’m willing to give it my best shot. Fellow always says there’s only one way out of a ditch and maybe—”

Skully’s outstretched arm is in your face next. You follow the length of it to find his encouraging expression. Tentatively, you place your palm in his and allow him to help you up from the floor. You sit in front of him on your bed, and it’s as if you’re the last two humans on the planet.

This is new. The anxiety and the nervous sweats. The rushing blood in your ears. You’ve never felt this way before.

Then again, you’ve also never done any of this before. It’s all instinct; you’re treading the path projected by your heart this time. It’s every bit the terror you imagined it to be, but it’s exhilarating and refreshing all the same.

He’s still holding your hand. When you look down, you notice it’s shaking. You can’t tell if that’s from you or him, but it settles once your fingers interlock. 

And then, before you can prepare yourself, he’s yanking you towards him. The force of his pull has you falling, and your arm shoots out to prop yourself above him. 

“MayIkissyou?” he babbles, hurrying through the question so it’s pronounced like one gasping breath. And then he catches himself. “Forgive me. I’m just…so relieved! Oh, I was terrified you’d hate me and think I was a rotten person.” He’s tearing up, but you surmise these are happy tears. “I thought we’d never end up together. Like in ‘Sally’s Song’! I thought we were doomed. I thought I wasn’t the one for you…”

“No, I couldn’t ever hate you! You’re not a rotten person. Never. I—” think I’m falling for you— “I’m feeling things for you. Like in-my-heart things. Good things. That’s a horrible way to put it, I know, but I promise I mean every word. I’m just not as eloquent when it comes to these things. Compared to your poetry, I probably sound so dumb and—whoa!” 

His arms wind around you, and he traps you in a tight embrace.

“(Name)… My darling.”

“Y-Yes?” 

He sounds so serious… Wait, wait. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! Don’t tell me he’s gonna say it? The L word! I don’t know if my heart’s ready. It wasn’t the first time he said it. Will I be okay? This is fine, right? It’s normal. It’s just…love. Aaahhhh!

“I’m pleased we’re so close.”

“Uh, yeah. Me too.”

“Without my glasses, I can scarcely see anything. You’d be nothing more than an indistinguishable, blurry shape. A beautiful shape, of course, but still impossible to discern!”

“Oh.”

Never fucking mind.

Hand in hand, you emerge from your room as more than friends. A couple. Lovers. A pair. So many florid titles you could probably fill the remaining pages in his poetry journal with. You’re not sure which one you should use to describe you and Skully. You’re used to temporary affairs. But this—what you have with him—feels like more than that.

Us. It’s us, you decide, and it’s the cheesiest thing but you’ll be damned if you deny yourself this newfound sweetness. 

Skully’s wrapped you up in his cloak. He’s also still clad in his costume, and he made quite the fuss about yours just moments ago.

“Now that we’re together,” he said with a childish pout, his face burning red-hot, “I don’t want others to see you like this. It’s selfish, but I can’t help it. I want to preserve these lovely sights for myself.”

“It’s just Rollo,” you argued. 

“Especially Mr. Rollo.”

You find his possessiveness endearing. Maybe you’re crazy for thinking that, but it’s addicting to be wanted so robustly and appreciated in full. Honeymoon phase be damned. You want to giggle and blush over everything Skully says and does, even if it’s complete nonsense. He could tell you the moon is made of cheese and you’d turn gooey like fondue. 

“Good morning, you two,” Rollo greets, a cup of coffee cradled in his hands. His pale lips quirk up knowingly. “And what a good morning it appears to be. Gidel and I are due for a payout.”

You level him with a glare that could wilt lettuce. “I can’t believe you. Your greed sickens me. Isn’t gambling a sin?”

What happened to being honest examples for the youth, Fellow?!

“When it’s a gamble you have every chance of winning, does it truly count as such?”

“It does if you’re betting money! And even Gidel got in on it? Are you serious?”

“Fellow owes him new art supplies. The fancy kind.” 

“Well, if it gets the kid his crayons…”

“Might I ask what the bet was for?” Skully pulls out a barstool for you, ever the winsome gentleman. He seats himself beside you.

“Whether you and (Name) would get together on Halloween or Christmas.”

“In that case, my sincerest congratulations to you and dear Gidel! Isn’t that wonderful, my love?”

“H-How do you know we’re together? You don’t even have evidence to confirm…” You trail off. Skully props his elbows on the countertop, a moony look softening his eyes.

“Surely you’re not as blind as you are dense.” Rollo glances between the both of you, as if asking, Are you seeing this shit?

Before you can snap back with defensive vitriol, he sets a paper bag down. A sugary peace offering awaits. It works a little too well because you forget everything he’s ever done at once.

“Pastry day! You’re the best, Rollo.”

“I’m aware.” 

“It looks and smells divine! Thank you graciously, Mr. Rollo.” Skully fishes something from out of the bag. “Shall we share this croissant, my dear? In honor of our first meal together as a pair of love-doves.”

Whoa. That’s so official. Hearing that is…really nice, actually. Kinda huge and a little scary, but nice.

“Skulls, I’d say let’s do it, but I’m way too hungry to go halfsies.” He’s quick to wither at that, his cuteness a weapon you’re unable to fight. You giggle and lean it to peck his cheek. “How’s that instead?”

“Not even a dozen sugar cubes could compare to how sweet you are.” He clutches his chest, swooning like a fanboy struck down by Cupid. “Aah, I adore you most ardently.”

Rollo fills two mugs with what’s left in the coffee pot. “There’s tea if you’d rather that.”

“It would be rude for me to turn down your hospitality. If it’s not too much trouble, tea would be much appreciated.”

“More for me.” You take hold of both mugs and are instantly soothed by the warmth bleeding through the ceramic. The caffeine will ward off the rest of whatever hangover symptoms might be encroaching.

While Rollo fills the kettle with water, Skully searches through the bag for a pastry that suits his tastes. You’re already licking your fingers clean of croissant crumbs. 

“I must thank you for allowing me to stay here through the night. I apologize if I caused you any trouble.” Skully bows his head. “You must forgive me. I don’t quite remember much of last night’s escapades.” 

“It was nothing. We weren’t gonna leave you in the woods.” 

“We considered it.” Rollo sips idly, unbothered by the now distraught Skully. 

“Don’t listen to him. Rollo’s being morbid on purpose. We’d never do that to you.” You take Skully’s hand beneath the counter and squeeze it. “We almost dropped you off at your house, but we decided against it at the last minute.”

An awkward chuckle rumbles through him. “I owe you more than my gratitude.”

“As long as you’re safe and comfortable, that’s all that matters. Make sure you let your parents know if they’re asking after you.”

“Mr. Rollo… Your kindness precedes you.”

“Rollo has a big heart today,” you tease around a bite of pain au chocolat. “He bought sweets, he made coffee, and he’s so chatty. Must be a lotta money Fellow’s coughing up if you’re in a good mood.”

He rolls his eyes, quietly amused. “We all have reasons to be pleased.”

You suppose that’s true. It’s a happily ever after for each of you.

“Oh, that reminds me!” You turn towards Skully. “Give me your phone. There’s something I owe you.”

He relinquishes it without a second thought, which allows you to input the digits for your number. You should’ve done this a long while ago—back when you first extended your hand in friendship—but as they say there’s no time like the present. You can move forward with this. It’s a stepping stone in a new direction!

You catch a glimpse of his contacts while you make one for yourself. He doesn’t even have ten contacts. Of the few saved, you spot his parents—named Mama and Papa separately—and then Rollo and Fellow. And then there’s the latest addition: you. You’re not sure what to call yourself, so you simply leave it as your name. You’re certain Skully has plenty of contact names in mind already. You won’t veto any of them because you’re positive they’ll stick.

“There.” You hand him the device. “My number’s saved.”

With a gasp, he stares at the screen with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Oh! Oh, how splendid! I will treasure this gift forever.”

“It’s not that special,” you start to say, but the rest of the argument dies in your throat. It is to him. Very special. You don’t want to take that away from him. “Don’t hesitate to text me. I’m always down to chat.”

“I shall text you every morning and night without fail. And every hour between then, too.”

“D-Don’t overdo it!”

“She says that, but she’ll enjoy every second of it,” Rollo cuts in, setting a fresh cup of tea down in front of Skully.

You hide in the ruffles of Skully’s oversized cloak. “I never said I was opposed to it…”

To think I was missing this all along. This warmth… It’s so sweet.

You waste the rest of the morning away with the both of them, laughing about whatever you can remember from last night’s Halloween.

 “It may not have been very successful, and it certainly wasn’t my ideal Halloween,” Skully explains to Fellow and Gidel hours later, both of them rapt, “but it didn’t end in complete disaster.”

“All’s well that ends well,” Rollo applauds.

“Of course you would say that,” Fellow grumbles. “To be loved is to be changed apparently. What a scam.”

“Ah, that’s right. Seeing as our resident lovebirds have taken to the nest, I do recall someone owes me the sum we agreed upon. And Gidel is awaiting his art supplies. It’s only fair, no?”

Gidel, who is brimming with excitement on Skully’s behalf, a supportive mirror image of his joy, snaps over to give Fellow puppy eyes. To really sell it, he digs around in his pockets for a few halves of crayon. Your squirming boss is looking everywhere but at the two of them, sweating from head to toe.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen!” Fellow lifts his arms in timeout. “Why must we let our desires lead us? Shouldn’t we learn to live as minimalists? Repeat after me! Hi-diddle-dee-dee! A minimalist life for me.” When no one follows suit, he drops to his knees in desperate prostration. “Best two out of three? We can bet on whether they’ll stay together long enough to get married or if they’ll split along the way. How does that sound? Just peachy, yes? If we’re in agreement, just name the terms and then we shall see! I’ll double the payout. Gidel, you can have an easel and oil paints. Isn’t that much better than a few measly crayons? And Rollo—my fair friend, surely you’d rather pay rent for the next five months rather than just one?”

That was fast. He really has mastered the art of begging like a bitch baby, you think, folding your arms over your chest. A few customers glance at the spectacle, curiously attracted to the obnoxious whines of a grown man.

“You made a bet and you lost. I’m merely here to collect my promised payment, as is Gidel.”

“How’s about you get yourself something from the store? It’s on me!”

Rollo surveys the store and the major half-off sale that has descended over what’s left of this year’s stock. “I don’t celebrate Halloween.”

Gidel shoves the broken crayons at him. Neither is going to budge. It’s amusing in the way an old sitcom is, but the way they interact with each other makes them look more like puppets than people.

“Aaaaghh! You’re unrelenting!”

“Just give Rollo his money and Gidel his art supplies.” You prop your feet up on the counter, your back poised against the wall. Skully nods in agreement. “Begging only makes you look worse, Fellow.”

With a growl, he pushes himself up onto his feet. “Yes, yes. I suppose you have me cornered.” And then with a woeful sigh: “Skully, my boy, couldn’t you have waited until Christmas? The holiday is right around the corner according to every marketing scheme ever. Halloween isn’t even remotely romantic!”

Skully gasps, scandalized. “It is if you’re Lord Jack and Sally! Halloween is the most romantic holiday! Have you never heard of traditional gothic romance?” He huffs and turns his nose up. “You have much to learn, Mr. Honest.”

“You’d be ill-advised to argue Halloween with the Phantom of the Opera,” Rollo says, holding a hand out. He scowls behind his handkerchief. “My money, if you would.”

“All right, fine. Don’t give me any more trouble, you hear?”

“Perhaps next time you should have more faith when placing bets.”

He stuffs a handful of crumpled bills in Rollo’s palm, grumbling all the while. You watch your roommate count each one, double- and triple-checking to ensure it’s the correct amount.

Gidel blinks up at him, hammer raised in threat.

“Yes, Gidel, I’ll get you those supplies. You have my word.” Fellow heaves a withered sigh. “You little devils are so conniving.”

“You love us. Don’t lie.”

“We cherish you, too, Mr. Honest!”

“I suppose you’re not impossible to tolerate. A semi-sensible boss,” Rollo agrees, pocketing his well-earned cash.

Fellow huffs, face tinged pink, and refuses to look at any of you. “You’re all nothing but trouble. I can’t believe I’ve put up with you kids for another year. How many more can I take?”

That’s right. Halloween’s over. The store closes in a week, you realize with a start. It went by so fast, and so much has changed.

You look at your humble work family—because that’s exactly what they’ve become in the time you’ve known them—and feel a smile stretching. These are your people. Misfits who have struggled to find their footing in the world. You watch a smirking Rollo and Gidel playfully push all of Fellow’s buttons, with Skully occasionally chiming in with a comment of his own, and you can’t imagine working minimum wage with anyone else.

If someone told you you’d end this season with love, you’d have laughed in their face. Back then, the mere idea was preposterous! Lust has always been your prerogative—loveless desire placed on a towering pedestal, far enough from the blooms of romance cluttering at the base, desperate to claw their way up into your heart. It’s not a joke or an aversion anymore. It’s real. Your first relationship that isn’t built on intermittent sex.

You wonder if you’re still stuck in last night’s Halloween, drunk off your ass and on the verge of passing out. Maybe you did and this is all a surreal dream—a fantasy spun from the silky strands of your heartstrings.

It’s not. Thank the stars it’s not.

There’s a lot you don’t know about romance and what it takes to maintain a relationship with sentimental stakes. You’re not an expert and neither is Skully. Perhaps no one is. Perhaps there is no such thing as experts and perfection where love is concerned. It’s a mystery—one you won’t be investigating alone.

Glancing at Skully, who’s still without his glasses and has been squinting at things from afar ever since this morning, you realize he looks different like this. In his Halloween costume—something he wore exclusively for you—and with his autumnal eyes uncovered by his trademark shades.

He’s cute.

And he’s all yours.

What a magical thing.

The sticky, sweet smell of sugar cookies and gingerbread umbrellas the apartment, cloying like dew on grassy lands in the first rays of sun. A cinnamon-scented candle mixes with the natural scent of the balsam fir positioned in a corner of the sitting room. It reeks of Christmas in here—of commercialized cheer and festive fun—like Santa Claus crash-landed through the door and spattered against the walls in a smattering of good tidings and season’s greetings.

Rollo was against a real tree at first, grousing over the mess and all the work, but even he couldn’t remain a grouchy Scrooge for long. He always softens around the holidays, which makes it easier to exploit his tender heart. And so together, while blasting a playlist of Christmas tunes at full volume, you hung ornaments and strung lights and garland along the full, fragrant boughs.

“We used to do this a lot,” he told you as he placed the star at the very top, and you turned the speaker down to hear him. “Before my brother… Ahem. My father would lift him onto his shoulders and he’d be the one to put the star on the tree.” He smiled at it, his eyes glazed in reminiscence. “And what a luminous star it is.”

You pulled him in for a reassuring side hug. “It’s gonna be a good holiday. Your brother would love it. He’d like that you’re carrying on the star tradition, too.”

Rollo hummed, and for the next few minutes you stood and admired the tree in peace.

Now you’re weeks into December and basking in the break from school. Normally you’d take this time to catch up on lost sleep, wasting the hours away into late afternoon in a comforting cocoon of blankets, aimlessly scrolling through your phone, but today you’re up plenty early. Excitement buzzes through you, even more so when you sniff the air and come away with all kinds of mouthwatering smells. You jump out of bed at the sound of “Last Christmas” and throw on a slim-fitting white sweater and a red jumper skirt with fur trim. After gliding through your makeup routine, you pucker your ruby-red lips in the mirror and fit a Santa hat on your head. It matches the peppermint patterns on this month’s set of acrylics.

You find Rollo hunched over the counter, wearing an apron and garnishing the Yule log with red currants and fondant mushrooms. He sprinkles icing sugar over the cake to give the impression of snowfall.

“You’ve outdone yourself.” Whistling, you examine the counters crowded with all kinds of dishes—some native to Rollo’s hometown and others from your favorite recipes. “Santa’s Little Helper works so hard. I hope you got some sleep.”

He smacks your hand away when you reach to pluck a berry from the cake. “This is nothing. Besides, I’m almost certain Skully’s going to bring snacks.”

“Probably.” Pouting, you cradle your hand and feign hurt. It’s ineffective against the no-nonsense Rollo Flamme. “You should’ve seen the way his parents lit up when he introduced me last month. You’d think he was telling them about how he won the lottery or something—the way they couldn’t stop gawping. I guarantee they’re sending him over with a tray of something to repay the favor.”

“Good. And I hope that Fellow sticks to his promise of bringing an appetizer.”

“He will. Gidel’ll make sure of it.” You sniff your wrist and frown. “Do I look okay? Am I overdoing it? Too much perfume?”

Rollo glances at you. “It’s Christmas. Everyone overdoes it.”

“I know, I know. But… I dunno. It’s my first major holiday with Skulls and I don’t wanna look like I’m trying too hard.”

Rollo places the glass dome over the cake and sets it off to the side. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“You’re not helping. Do I look nice, at least?”

“You look very nice.” And then he ducks down to check the cookies in the oven. “Why are you so worried? Skully will appreciate you and your efforts regardless.”

“That’s just it! What if I look just okay? I’m not saying he has to drool over me, but if he shows up looking like a prince and I look like a bog monster—”

A sharp rap at the door shakes you out of your spiraling ramble. You and Rollo look between each other and then at the door. He starts for it and you throw yourself into his path to intercept him. 

“Wait! I’m not ready. Put a different song on—something to hype me up. Like Michael Bublé’s Christmas album! I need his confidence.”

“(Name), you’ll be fine.”

He strides past you, but you race the rest of the way to get to the door before he can. Wrenching it open, your heart sprouts wings like Icarus…and then immediately burns away at the sight of Fellow and Gidel. Temporarily relieved, you usher them in with a welcoming grin.

“Happy holidays!” You bend down to Gidel’s height and ruffle his hair. He beams up at you, his face half-hidden in a scarf that seems to swallow him whole. “Are you excited for Santa, Gidel?”

He nods and, digging through his pockets, pulls out a crumpled list. You read through the shaky misspellings (and the added corrections from Fellow) and your heart melts. It’s so wholesome. He wants art supplies, carrots for the reindeer, a new sewing kit for Fellow, books, a new hat…

“This is a great list! I’m sure you’ll get everything you want and more.”

“Now why can’t there be a Santa for adults?” Fellow huffs. “I’d love for the big man to come down and shovel my walkway or pay my bills. Winter Wonderland, they say, and yet I’m more frozen than the tundra!” He shakes himself out of his coat, which Rollo gracefully hangs on the nearby rack. He takes Gidel’s winter wear next. “Merry Christmas, both of you. I’ve brought apples.” Looking quite proud, he holds out the bag.

“Nice to see you, too, Fellow.” You lean in to embrace him and he returns the gesture merrily. “I hope the winter’s been kind to you and Gidel.”

“You’re too kind, dearie.”

“You didn’t think to do anything with the apples?”

“Now that, my fine friend, is where your imagination comes in! An apple is a very versatile fruit.” Fellow plucks one from the bag and, after shining it on his sweater, takes a greedy bite. “To some, it’s just an apple, but to others it could be candied or turned into pie. Limitless possibilities.”

“Hmm. Well, thank you for this. I’ll wash them and put them out with the rest.”

“Make yourselves comfy,” you add.

“Oh, and by the way… Would you assure (Name) she looks the furthest thing from a bog monster?”

“What’s this about a monster?” Fellow peers at you, incredulous, while he helps Gidel out of his winter boots.

Embarrassment flashes through you. “N-Not important! Don’t listen to Rollo.”

“She’s fretting over her appearance.”

You bark out a sudden laugh. “Who said anything about that? Me, fretting? No way. I’m just…conscious of today and everything. You know how it is.” You wring the hem of your dress. “It has nothing to do with fretting.”

The three of them—yes, even Gidel—look on with mutual disbelief. Fellow’s the first to break the silence.

“You’ve been together for—how long has it been now?—a month or so, and now you’re afraid of these things?”

“It’s been one month, three weeks, and three days, actually, and I’m not afraid.” You scoff. “Christmas is a big deal for couples. At least, I think it is. If the movies are to be trusted—”

“Miss (Name), take it from me—”

“I’m not sure I want to.”

“Holiday romance is a scam—ack!” Gidel jabs Fellow in the side for that. He clears his throat before carrying on. “But! But, but, but—I’ll be the first to tell you that that boy loves you more than anything, be it during the holidays or on a regular day. Bog monster or not.”

Nodding quickly, Gidel points at you, poses like Skully, and then forms a heart with his hands. 

“Based on what we saw of his poetry, he’d probably salivate if you became a monster,” Rollo says, and you can’t refute his claim. “So what’s really plaguing you?”

Sometimes you hate how easily Rollo can read you.

“I haven’t told him I love him. We’ve been together all this time and he showers me in it—it’s obvious—but I haven’t been able to say those words myself. I don’t know why.”

You miss the way they all facepalm.

“I don’t want him to think I don’t feel the same—because I do! I love him to bits. Just…how? How to put those three words into a sentence, and how to say that sentence to him?”

“‘I love you, Skully’. Easy. Wouldn’t you agree, Gidel?”

He stalls around a nod.

“If only.” Rollo sighs. “You show your appreciation for him in other ways. I’m sure he understands.”

“But I think he’d like to hear it. Anyone would.”

“Lucky for you, Skully isn’t ‘anyone,’” Fellow remarks, patting you on the shoulder.

Still… It’d be nice to say it.

Just then, a rhythmic knock resounds. You look to Rollo for help, but he, Fellow, and Gidel have retreated to the oven to pull the cookies out. Why it’s a two-man-plus-spectator job, you don’t know.

The door opens to reveal Santa. A much thinner, lankier version, but Santa nonetheless. With a beaming smile and a hearty chortle, Santa Skully announces his arrival.

“Merry Christmas to you, my dear! You look as lovely as always.” He grabs hold of your hands and pulls you in, kissing each of your cheeks in turn. “Simply ravishing.”

You’re hot down to your toes. The cold air from outside helps regulate your temperature, if only for the moment.

We literally went on a date last week and yet I can’t stop myself.

“You look very handsome, as always.” You tug him down to your height to return his smooches with some of your own, placing one directly on his mouth. You linger long enough to leave him reeling with rekindled cravings. “I hope I’m on Sandy Claws’s nice list this year.”

“Let’s see,” he teases in a singsong, pretending to unfurl an imaginary scroll. He scans it for a few seconds and then leans in to whisper, “Sandy Claws says you’re just shy of naughty, but we can arrange a solution.”

“It won’t be an easy fix.”

“Then aren’t I lucky to have a wonderful soul such as yourself to call my own? A little naughtiness never hurts.”

Fuuuuck. I love him.

With a giggle, you release him and pat his suit down. “Everyone’s already here. Let’s get back inside before we freeze.”

“We wouldn’t want you to become Frozen Charlotte. Beautiful as you would be, I quite like you warm and alive.”

“As do I.”

You step aside to let Skully in. He hauls a red sack through the door. “Good day, wonderful people! Happy holidays and Merry Christmas!”

“Skully, my boy, you made it!” Fellow slinks over to shake his hand. “A very merry one to you as well.”

You shut the door to keep the cold out and watch as he takes his turn greeting everyone.

“I’ve brought gifts for everyone, and my parents sent me with a treat for today’s gathering. They send their well wishes and regards, each one baked into this tantalizing treacle tart.” Carefully, he pulls it from the bag, wrapped delicately in foil, and passes it to Rollo. “It’s my mother’s own recipe. I wish I could take the credit, but unfortunately I’m still learning how to bake.”

“I’ll be sure to send them a card to express my thanks.”

“Why, I’m honored, Mr. Rollo! They would love nothing more.”

“Ooh, a tart? Now that sounds scrumptious. What say we tear into the food, Gidel?”

Gidel agrees with two thumbs raised.

“If you fill up on sweets now, you’ll never have the appetite for dinner,” Rollo scolds.

“By the time the food’s done cooking, we’ll be plenty hungry. And we have lots of stuff to do to pass the time.” You make a vague sweeping gesture with your hand. “Decorating cookies, making gingerbread houses, watching movies… It’ll be fine.”

No one’s going to argue with that. And even if they were about to, the delightful Christmas music puts everyone in bright spirits.

While you and Rollo prepare the main courses, Fellow, Skully, and Gidel clear the table to make space for trays of now-cooled cookies and gingerbread. A rainbow of frostings and various toppings are set down next.

“A very smart use of your guests’ labor,” Fellow comments, but he doesn’t have any credibility when he’s clearly putting his soul into crafting a little bow for his gingerbread man. And then he catches Gidel’s arm before his sleeve can drape into one of the bowls. “Be careful! Now what have I told you about rolling up your sleeves when you’re going to be working?”

He sets his cookie down and turns in his chair to help Gidel fold his sleeves back. He’s given a grateful smile in return.

“What do you think of mine so far, dear Gidel? I’m recreating Lord Jack’s terrifying likeness in cookie form! Ooh, are you decorating yours based on Mr. Honest? How darling!”

Skulls, you’re a delight. I hope you know that.

“What is it?” Rollo asks.

“I’m thinking,” you reply absently, gazing at your reflection in the oven. The Christmas ham cooks within. 

“How dangerous.”

“I really like him, Rollo. It’s one thing to show it, but I want to be able to tell him. I want to say it and not feel so…insecure. Yeah, that. That word fits.”

We’ve gone on dates, we kiss, we hold hands, we have sex. He tells me I’m pretty and I melt. I give him all kinds of things because I like spoiling him. I’m going to spend Christmas Day with him and his parents. Everything we do is lovey-dovey, so why can’t I say it? It’s not like it’s a forbidden phrase.

It was for most of your life, though, and that’s the crux of the problem. The phrase has negative connotations. It’s been weaponized in the past, a verbal dagger meant to carve at your chest. Even now, a month into your relationship, you can’t tamp down the surprise whenever Skully lavishes you with that three-word phrase. Over and over, as if it’ll imprint itself on your soul if spoken enough. He means everything he says—each iteration of fondness. You wish you could be so unfaltering in your approach. You wish you could just scream the words because they’re trapped inside your ribs and you desperately want them out. You want Skully to know.

“I’m glad everyone can come together like this,” you say instead, and thankfully Rollo doesn’t press the matter. “We should get together to celebrate the New Year, too.”

“So long as our schedules align.”

“As if Fellow’s gonna be too busy for a free meal.”

For the rest of the day, you decide it isn’t worth it to sweat over the complications of love. You can do that after the holidays. Or later tonight when you’re alone with your thoughts in the shower. Either way, now’s not the time.

I’m too pretty to stress over this.

Somehow it works. You’re beginning to wonder if procrastination (alongside a dusting of delusion) really is the solution to all of life’s issues. Maybe not a long-term fix, but it provides temporary relief from the demons haunting your every thought.

I’ll say it once I’m ready, you catch yourself thinking hours later while Skully feeds you. Mindlessly, you open your mouth to receive another spoonful of whatever’s on his plate. There’s not a time limit on stuff like this. It’s not like I have to say it today or tomorrow or two weeks from now. 

“I really should capitalize on Christmas…” Fellow announces, mostly to himself, as he peers out the snow-frosted window. “This town grows so soft during the holidays. It seems far more profitable than Halloween.”

“We can dress Lord Jack up as Sandy Claws and have him pose in the very front!” Skully suggests, pausing midway to accept a bite from your fork. “Wouldn’t that be marvelous?”

“Hmm. There’s potential.” A flicker of mischief spots Rollo’s green hues. “You could play mall Santa and listen to everyone’s Christmas wishes.”

Fellow laughs and cuts into the slab of glazed ham on his plate. “Sounds to me like someone’s offering to stand in as an elf.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” You slam your hand down on the table. “He’s Santa’s Little Helper! Who’s with me? Gidel?”

Said boy is looking at Rollo with hope painted across his youthful face. Any initial objection Rollo had promptly vanishes at the sight. He sighs loudly behind his napkin.

“Ask me again next year and then we’ll see.”

“I didn’t hear a no! Did you, Skulls?”

“We can all dress up together! How lovely!”

“Then it’s settled. Santa’s Workshop will open for business next holiday season!” Fellow raises his glass in toast, and the rest of you follow suit.

“Cheers to that!”

Some time later, while you and Skully exchange gifts with Gidel, Fellow and Rollo slip out of the room. You don’t realize they’re gone until it’s just the three of you, Skully’s chatter filling the space and tricking you into believing there are more people present. It’s not like them to scheme so collaboratively, and they’re not going to pick at the desserts. Suspicion crawls up your back and spins its web in your chest. Those two are up to something. You’re sure of it.

“This one’s for you.” Skully’s voice draws you back to the present. He hands you a tiny box with a bow. “From dear Gidel.”

“For me? Oh, that’s very kind of you.” You peel the lid back and lift a beaded necklace with an accompanying drawing from inside. It’s of you and Gidel holding hands, happy smiles and flowers all around. “This is beautiful! Did you make this yourself?”

He nods, face flushed with pure happiness. You fasten it around your neck, swelling with pride the whole time.

“It suits you well. An excellent job, dear Gidel! And your art looks exquisite. You’ve captured my darling’s radiant smile.” Skully pushes his gift into Gidel’s hands. “Here—open mine next!”

The packaging remains intact for all of five seconds before it’s shredded to pieces. Inside are an artist’s sketchbook and a how-to art guide. Gidel’s mouth falls open at the sight of them.

“I thought you could use something a little more professional. Notebooks are great to start with, but a real sketchbook suits our budding artist even better!”

He hugs both books to his chest and then, setting them down, throws his arms around Skully. 

“You’re very welcome! I await the masterpieces that shall soon grace these pristine pages.” He places his hat on Gidel’s head. “Nurture that imaginative spirit of yours and never stop creating.”

“Miss (Name), would you be a dear and come here for a second? Rollo needs you for something,” Fellow calls from just down the hall.

And then Rollo, in a hushed hiss: “Fool! You’re supposed to call Skully first!”

“Oh, pish-posh. They may as well be one body, the way those two fawn over each other.”

“Just be quiet!”

These idiots… you think and shake your head, amused with their antics. 

“I’ll be right back.”

You kiss Skully’s cheek and pat Gidel’s head, and then you’re rising to your feet to tromp down the hall towards your bedroom. You’re not sure what to expect when you round the corner and find the both of them there. And nothing’s amiss. Your suspicion triples, and you cast a dubious glance between them.

“Okay, you two, what’re you doing? It’s not like you to plan…whatever’s happening here. Hold on. What is happening?”

“Call it a Christmas miracle, dearie.”

“Or a favor. Whichever is sweeter on the tongue.”

You roll your eyes and that’s when you spot it. The mistletoe hanging from your doorframe.  

“All right, Gidel, you can bring Lover Boy over!”

Right on cue, Gidel drags a sputtering Skully along. 

“What’s this about? Dear Gidel? Mr. Honest? Mr. Rollo?” He looks at each of them. “Is this a surprise? Am I meant to cover my eyes?”

He’s brought in front of you. Gidel grabs both of your hands and forces them together.

“Merry Christmas, you two,” Rollo says as he departs for the sitting room, where a few gifts still linger untouched beneath the tree.

“Three words,” Fellow reminds you with a hum. He mouths them to you as he passes: You got this.

Even Gidel offers you an encouraging thumbs-up before he, too, skips after Fellow.

“I’m not sure I follow…”

“Look up, Skulls.”

He turns his bespectacled gaze skyward and gapes at the mistletoe. “Oh… Ohhh! Did they put this up for us?”

“Seems like it.”

Awkward silence gathers in the hall.

“Should we kiss?”

“We should kiss.”

“Ah, sorry. You first.” You shrink away, but Skully holds firm to your hands. 

“I would be honored to kiss you.” And then he squeals. “Aah, it’s really mistletoe! My first kiss under the mistletoe with my sweetheart!”

He leans in, but you’re not ready. You can’t kiss him until you’ve told him. Until you’ve uttered three magic words.

“Skully, wait!” 

He pauses. “Is… Is something the matter?”

You steel yourself. “I… There’s something I want to tell you.”

“I’m listening. You can tell me anything, my dear. Anything.”

“Okay. Cool. Good.” Where the fuck am I going with this? Words. Love. Right. “I know we haven’t been together very long—I’m hoping we stay together forever—and you’ve always been so expressive about your feelings. Heart on your sleeve and all that. But I… I’m not the best at this and I know it’s painfully evident, but I’m really happy to call you mine because you get it. You get me. And I guess I’m the luckiest girl alive to have someone like you. No, not guess. I know I’m the luckiest. Wait, that’s not the point I’m trying to make. Ugh. This is so rambly. Sorry, sorry. The point I’m trying to make is…”

I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone and I need to say it. I need you to know.

Skully’s hand grasps your chin and turns your head back to face him. The contact—his warm palm, soft fingers, gentle, magnetic touch—reminds you of why you feel these things. Tongue-tied, buoyant on a sea of clouds, always strung up in the wonderful web that is romance.

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this. I wanted to say it the first day I realized it, but I couldn’t. I was scared and maybe I still am, but I want to tell you.” You inhale a deep breath. “Skully, I… I really, really… Really, really, really—”

He sweeps you against him, his lips on yours for but a breath. “I know,” he murmurs, closing his hand around yours. “I love you, too. And until you feel comfortable saying it out loud, I’ll continue to echo the sentiment. Now and onwards.”

You stare at him. The first tear tracks down your cheek and then another. Before you can stop yourself, you’re crying. He smiles in that sweet, sympathetic, Skully way. It sculpts your heart into a candle, and the wax organ weeps all over your ribs. Messy. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“No fair… You’re too cool and I’m a mess.”

Thumbing your tears away, he cradles your face in both hands like a saint. “The Spider Queen is always cool and so is my darling (Name). I will always think so.”

“Even when I’m a dreadful mess?”

“Especially when you’re a dreadful mess because that, too, is beautiful. Dreadfully beautiful.”

“You’re seriously amazing… I adore you, Skulls.”

Glassy-eyed and sniffling, you yank him in for a starved kiss underneath the mistletoe.

You might not be able to say those three words right now, but this comes close.

It’s love all the same.

[cmdrfupa]

Former rivals now business partners, Toji and Kento have made it clear that two heads are better than one as they run the top boxing club in the city. But now you've made an appearance in their lives and the static from all those years ago may still feel as fresh as ever.

a/n: IDK. Happy Belated V-Day lol. I was in a silly goofy mood while writing this and now here we are. smut, fluff, toji and nanami. what a time

11.2k words

The gym smelled like sweat, metal, and old leather—an oddly comforting mix as you stepped inside, taking in the rhythmic sounds of fists hitting heavy bags and the occasional grunt of effort. It wasn’t a commercial fitness center; no polished mirrors or spa-like amenities. This place had character. The kind of gym where people actually worked, where blood and sweat stained the mats, and the air buzzed with raw energy.

You hesitated near the entrance, scanning for a front desk or someone who looked like they were in charge. Two pink haired guys taking turns kicking a punching bag, a tall blonde woman working the ropes. Everyone in earshot range was occupied.

“Maybe this is a sign,” you whispered to yourself as you looked at the dark gray walls that were littered with old school boxing posters. You stopped at a large poster of a large set of shoulders with an almost iridescent snake wrapped around the thick neck. “This is definitely a sign. Heavenly Heavy Hitter Fushiguro?” you read it as if it were the most absurd thing you’d seen today.

A man stood in the center of the gym, taping his wrists with slow, practiced ease. Tall, broad, and built like a wrecking ball, he had the kind of presence that made people step aside without him even asking. His dark hair was a little messy, a few strands falling into his sharp, wolfish eyes. His black tank top clung to his frame, showing off muscle that wasn’t just for show. He watched as you took in the match posters on the wall.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, but he definitely noticed you.

“Lost?” he called out, voice lazy but deep, carrying over the sounds of training.

You straightened, clearing your throat before turning around. “Uh, no. I mean, maybe? I was looking to sign up for some of your beginner training classes.”

He tilted his head slightly, lips twitching into a smirk as he finished wrapping his hands. “Yeah? You train?”

“Not really,” you admitted. “But I wanted to try something new. To keep myself active.”

He walked over, sizing you up in a way that wasn’t judgmental but definitely assessing. Up close, he was even more intimidating—but there was something in his gaze, a flicker of curiosity beneath all that casual confidence.

“New, huh?” His smirk widened. “Guess I could show you a thing or two.”

Before you could respond, he nodded toward the ring. “Come on. Let’s see what you got.”

You blinked. “Wait—now?”

“Best way to learn is by doing,” he shrugged, already pulling on his gloves. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll go easy on you.”

Something told you he was about to have way too much fun with this.

­______________

Stepping into the ring, you walked closely behind him as he grabbed a pair of gloves from the nearby stool and turned to you.

“Hands out.” He took your right hand, fitting your hand snugly inside and velcroing the wrist before doing the same to your left. The feeling of the weight settled against your hands as you brought them together, punching your fist into one another all while Toji stood in front of you, rolling his shoulders as he raised his hands in a loose guard.

“Alright,” he said, voice smooth, “first lesson—stance. Keep your feet planted, one a little ahead of the other. Stable, but light.”

You copied his movements as best you could, adjusting when he took a step forward and nudged your foot into place with his own. His presence was overwhelming up close, but you pushed past it, focusing on his words.

“Good,” he nodded. “Now, basic jab. Pop it out quick, straight from your shoulder.”

You threw a few hesitant jabs, feeling ridiculous at first, but his sharp eyes watched each movement with scrutiny.

“Loosen up. Too stiff, you’ll telegraph your moves if you want anything to have even the slightest impact.”

You exhaled, shaking the tension from your shoulders before trying again. This time, he nodded approvingly.

“Not bad, you’ve got some grit.” he admitted. “Now, let’s see if you can hit me.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

His smirk was pure amusement. “Come on, just try. I won’t hit back—this time.”

You hesitated for a moment before throwing a quick jab toward him. He swayed effortlessly out of the way, the motion almost lazy. “Again.”

You tried another. And another. Each time, he dodged with minimal effort, looking downright entertained. “You’ve gotta hit me. This is suppose to be boxing.”

Irritation flared. He was toying with you.

Gritting your teeth, you took a step forward and threw a quick jab—but at the last second, you shifted and aimed a light hook instead.

Your gloved fist actually connected with his ribs.

Toji stilled. Then, to your utter disbelief, he grinned. A real grin, full of something wild and pleased.

“Well, well,” he mused, shaking out his arms. “Guess you’re a fast learner.”

“That.. how did I do that?”

Toji came up to you and lightly tapped your gloves. “You’re finding your power.”

You looked down at your hands like they held some type of magic in them as he chuckled.

“You’ve gotta get out of your head. Don’t think about how hard you might hit me. Just hit me. And ignore all the grunting going on. Its just you and I in the ring, no one else matters.”

“Its just.. a lot. What if I hit you too hard? How can you ignore the sounds? Its like being in a pit of bears or some shit.”

Toji came up closer to you and leaned in, leaving a foot of space between you. “Mind closing your eyes for me?”

Your heart quickened for a millisecond before nodding. “Sure.” you hesitated before letting them flutter shut. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” Toji could sense the nervousness in how you held your shoulders, he took a step back. “Alright. Now visualize me and this ring. I’m still the same distance away, still holding my hands up.”

“Huh?”

“Visualize.” He reiterated.

You shook your head. “I can’t.”

“Listen to how close I am. You could hear me just fine, yes?”

You nodded.

“Perfect. Now, listen for where my voice is going as I sway. Take your stance and let your fist find me.”

Doing as he asked, you planted your feet, placing one foot just slightly ahead of the other before bringing your hands to your chest. “Okay.”

He leaned to the left, “One.” your fist hit his palm within seconds.

“Again. One, two.”

You reached out, quick punches in the direction of his voice until you began to notice the pattern.

“Take notice of how the movement feels for your body. You naturally jab hook when you let your body lead. Keep doing that.” Toji stood directly in front of you, watching the intricate way your torso just casually knew to twist in order to get a proper hit. “I’m going to step forward and adjust your guard.”

“You’re gonna hit me?” a hint of concern coated your words.

“No. Never. I just want you to get use how this feeling is for you. You’ve gotta put it all together.” Toji gently grabbed your elbow and brought them toward your body then raised your hands so the gloves covered your face.

You opened your eyes, peeking really, to see Toji biting his bottom lip while he adjusted your hands.

“Now bring your chin down. I should be able to see you between your gloves.” his thumb lightly grazed your chin as he brought it down for you and smiled.:”Perfection.”

The stomach thing. The stomach thing happened. “Yep.”

“Now one more time. Eyes open.”He tapped your gloves and went back to a loose guard and planted his feet. “Remember. Keep your eyes forward, on me. I’m your target.”

You waited for him to sway then you popped a quick jab, this time going back to guard your face as you watched him weave his head.

He rocked, one two and you shifted effortlessly, landing a quick jab then right hook, causing you to jump back with a smile and Toji to raise his hands above his head. “Atta girl, Look at you!”

“That was correct? That felt a little.. too good.”

Toji nodded coming to help you remove your gloves. “With a little more power, you could’ve rocked my shit. Good job.”

“So does this mean you have a boxing class to put me in?”

Toji grinned and took the gloves from you. “Unfortunately no. But I have some defense kickboxing courses with all fem people that I hold on weekends from 9am til 10:30 then another from 11 to noon- thirty.”

“Is it some fufu bs because it’s women? I want to learn actual technique, not some watered down defense.”

You seemed to take offense to this and for some odd reason, Toji found that hilarious.

“No. What you just learned with me is the part of the first days lesson. And I wouldn’t call that ‘fufu bs’.”

Your cheeks warmed and you went over to grab your belongings. “So… which do you lead?”

“Neither.” He stated matter of factly. “You see those two over there? The pink starburst for hair guys?”

You looked back to the see the leaner of the two recording the bulkier one as he did what you could make out to be as a tutorial of some sort. “Uh huh..”

“Yuji and Ryo K. My best here at the club.”

“You aren’t the best?”

Toji looked down at you, raising an eyebrow as he really took you in since you came in. He watched you jush out your fro and smiled as you sipped your water. “I can be. Wanna find out why I own the place.”

“Heavenly Heavy-hitter.” you spoke lowly as if you couldn’t be heard saying his name.

“In the flesh.” He matched your tone.

You felt the need to straighten your posture, rolling your shoulders so you could erect your back. “Sorry for hitting you.. three times.”

“Part of the job. Don’t worry. But you could make it up to me if you really feel bad.”

“Not exactly feeling bad but I did just smack around the owner soooo… tell me and it’s done.” Your eyes shined as you waited to hear his offer.”

He laughed and ran his hand through his wet hair. “Have dinner with me. This weekend so you can tell me all about your first course here.”

“Deal.” no chance to even think about it. No reason to overthink. “Dinner with the heavy hitter it is.”

_____________

Buzzing about your date later that night, you spent your Saturday afternoon knocking out your to do list, ending with picking up some items for your Sunday dinner.

It was just supposed to be a fairly quick stop. A short errand squeezed between the rest of your day, in and out without much thought. But apparently everyone else in the neighborhood had the same idea.

“Thank goodness there was a buggy left.” you looked down at your list as you slowly made your way down your first aisle, grabbing a small container of sugar cubes and confectioner sugar then maneuvering around 3 people standing in the middle of the aisle.

Tall, blond, dressed a little too sharply for a casual grocery run.

You first noticed him near the produce section. His sleeves were rolled up just enough to hint at the strength beneath, his movements precise as he picked through a selection of oranges, inspecting the navels on a few before he added them into a bag. He barely spared you a glance, offering only the smallest nod of acknowledgment before he walked off from the aisle.

You picked up a bag of pears and two lemons, going back to scratching them off of your list before exhaling and slowly trekking to the bakery.

Amazing enough, you ran into him again. This time, you didn’t let him get away without a word. You were letting the energy of the day make you a little more extroverted.

“You don’t look like the type to buy pastries,” you said, watching as he considered a loaf of sourdough.

He turned, brow slightly raised. “And what type would that be?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Serious, maybe. Too structured to indulge in fresh bread.”

A pause. Then, to your surprise, he let out a small, almost amused sigh. “I enjoy good bread.”

“Well, I’m more of a sweets person,” you admitted, tapping a package of chocolate croissants. “But I respect your choices.”

“I’m glad.” Another nod—like you’d passed some unspoken test—before he placed the bread in his basket and walked away, looking back at you putting a loaf of potato bread in your basket and striking it off of your list. Internally, he was fighting the urge to bother you.

“Imagine being one of those men being recorded because you cant read the room. Let it go, Kento.” he thought as he turned to the next aisle, thinking of your radiant smile as he added pasta to his basket.

Now the third time felt less like coincidence. Coffee aisle. You stood, contemplating which roast to go for, when you heard his voice behind you.

“You seem indecisive.”

You turned, finding him beside you, his own gaze locked on the shelves. “And you seem like someone who knows exactly what they want.”

“Usually.” He reached for a bag and handed it to you. “Try this. Very robust flavor. Perfect even for those with a sweet tooth.”

You examined it, then smirked. “If I hate it, I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll take that risk.” He gave a small smile and reached for a second bag of same coffee placing it in his own basket.

The rest of your shopping trip went without a hitch. You didn’t find yourself bumping into the blonde haired beauty but you ended up finding everything you needed. “Just need to grab some laundry detergent and we’re done.” you folded your list and threw it in your purse as you approached your final item.

You stared at the large box on the top shelf, sighing internally. Of course. Too high.

Without hesitation, he came up to your side and looked at you. “Need assistance?”

He followed your gaze, then smoothly plucked the fresh linens detergent from the shelf and handed it to you. His fingers brushed yours—just slightly—but enough to make your pulse stutter. You definitely weren’t staring at his forearms.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning. “Guess all that bread keeps you strong.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “Something like that.”

Silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, there was a weight to it, like something unsaid hanging between you. Then, shifting his basket to one hand, he spoke.

“You seem... interesting.” He chose the words carefully, like he wasn’t used to making impulsive decisions.

“Strange way of calling me beautiful but I’ll take it.” You teased. ‘You seem quite interesting yourself.”

You saw his ears turn just a faint hint of pink at the tips. “Interesting and beautiful, absolutely. Would you like to continue this conversation over lunch so I can make a more astute observation thats better than just ‘interesting’?”

You blinked. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yes.” A beat passed. “Unless you’d rather keep meeting in random grocery aisles.”

You laughed, warmth creeping up your neck. “Lunch sounds better.”

He nodded once, like a deal had been struck. “Good. My names Nanami Kento but call me Kento. Here’s my card.” he held it out and placed it in your hand.

“I’ll call you tonight.”

He smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

And just like that, a simple errand turned into something much more interesting.

__________

You didn’t feel the usual first date anxiety like usual with Toji. He kept conversation nice and short during the week with getting basic information like favorite foods and doing the formal ‘how are you today?” check-ins. From that it was clear how he was more of a in person kid of guy, which you could learn to appreciate.

The restaurant was lively, the scent of sizzling meat filling the air as you slid into the booth across from where Toji was sliding in. He looked completely at ease, one arm resting along the back of his seat, eyes scanning the menu with a lazy confidence.

“You’ve been here before,” you noted, watching the faint smirk tug at his lips.

“Course,” he said, glancing up at you. “Gotta know the good spots if you wanna eat right.”

“So, what’s the move, then? Gonna impress me with your order?”

Toji chuckled, setting the menu down. “I could, but where’s the fun in that? Let’s see if you can keep up first.”

Your eyes narrowed playfully. “Is that a challenge?”

“More like a test.” He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping just enough to make your skin warm. “Gotta see if you can handle a little heat.”

“You sound pretty confident in your ability to bring the heat, Fushiguro.”

“What, you doubting me already?” He grinned, motioning for the server. “Let’s get started, sweetheart. Pick your choices and leave the rest to me.”

The waiter got the grill fired up, and soon enough, Toji was handling the meat with an easy skill, flipping each piece with just the right timing. He moved with a casual precision, but there was something undeniably attractive about the way he took control. Every piece of food, he’d give you the first few pieces before he served himself. This time, 2 of the pieces of sirloin he held over the flame.

“Ready? This one should be perfect.”

You held your plate up and shook your head with a laugh. “Toji, you also need to enjoy some of this. You take one of these.”

He winked and placed both slices on your plate. “Next few are for me so you have time to clear your plate.”

“So, you cook often?” you asked, picking up a piece he had just finished grilling and popping it into your mouth.

“Only when I gotta.” He watched you chew, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Good?”

“Damn good,” you admitted. “I think you’ve earned some points.”

“Only some?” He tisked, shaking his head. “Tough crowd.”

You laughed, nudging his foot under the table. “You’ll live. But tell me something—what exactly do you do, besides being suspiciously good at grilling meat and running your gym?”

Toji chewed thoughtfully, smirking. “Just keep myself out of trouble.”

“You? Trouble?” you teased.

Toji chuckled before grabbing his beer and taking a small swig. “All kinds. Use to be my favorite thing to do when I didn’t have much to do.”

“Mmm. So running the gym is what keeps you in line?”

“Something like that. What about you, Miss lady? I’m sure you do things outside of coming to my gym and making me teach you basic boxing.”

He grinned as you playfully rolled your eyes. “I’m honestly a bit of homebody. Not sure if me being active in online communities counts but I do love going to little pop up events around town.”

“Such as?”

You hesitated for a second. All of a sudden you lost that streak of confidence you’d been filling since meeting him. You took a sip of water and cleared your throat.

“Like anime and pop culture things. Ever heard of Demon Slayer?”

Toji seemed almost confused to you. He chewed for just a moment more then spoke up. “The show with that Michael Jackson looking motherfucker with the eyes?”

It took everything in you to not bust out into the loudest laugh you could. You instead opted to let out a chortle, pushing out a deep breath while he did the same.

“Muzan, yes.” You replied. “There was a Demon Slayer pop up about two weeks ago. Me and a couple of friends went to it. Food, merch, chance to meet other fans.”

“Oh, my son told me about that. He said it was a cool event.”

You blinked. “Your son?”

Toji glanced up, chewing, before realizing your surprise. “Oh. Yeah. Didn’t mention that, huh?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, still processing. “Kind of a big thing to leave out before a first date.”

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I tend to forget to mention it since he isn’t a small kid anymore. Didn’t mean to spring it on you like that.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen.”

That gave you pause. “Wait, really?”

Toji smirked at your reaction. “Yeah. We’ve had a… bumpy few years. Trying to patch things up now. He’s a good kid. Mouthy but great.”

“I’m sure you have no idea where that came from.”

Toji smiled and finished grilling a piece of corn and plated it for you.

There was something softer in his voice when he spoke about mending things with his son. Something that made you see past the easy confidence to the man beneath it.

You nodded, offering a small smile. “I think it’s good you’re working on it.”

Toji held your gaze for a beat before grinning again, the weight of the moment easing. “That so? Well, don’t start thinking I’m some sentimental guy now.”

You smirked, leaning forward. “Oh, don’t worry. You’d have to do a lot more than that to convince me.”

“I’ve gotta stand. Sorry. My backs feeling a little stiff” He slid out the booth.

You shook your head. “No worries. We’ve been here for awhile.”

He stretched, his shirts rising just a bit as he rolled his shoulders back. He reached above his head, and there it was: a dark, dense happy trail that led all the way down to what you were certain was to be a pot of gold--

“You checking me out, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the grin. “You just happen to be in my line of sight.”

Toji hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Mm. Convenient.” He sat back down. This time, scooting to sit just a little closer to you.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between bites, teasing laced in every exchange. He was smooth, but not in an over-rehearsed way—just natural confidence, the kind that made it easy to get caught up in the moment.

By the time the last of the meat was gone, you were leaning forward, elbows on the table, grinning at him. “I’ll admit it. You make a damn good dinner companion.”

Toji smirked, resting his chin in his hand. “That so?”

“Mhm. Might have to let you take me out on another date just to make sure you’re really this good.”

He reached across, tapping your chin with the end of his chopsticks. “Careful, sweetheart. Say things like that, and I might start thinking you like me.”

You caught the chopsticks, holding his gaze. “And what if I do?”

For the first time that night, Toji didn’t have a quick comeback. Instead, he just smirked—slow, dangerous—and let the silence speak for itself.

__________

The garden café was a stark contrast to the lively buzz of the KBBQ restaurant with Toji. Soft alternative played in the background, the scent of freshly baked confections filling the air. It seemed like the complete opposite of the type of place Kento would be into.

The warm glow of hanging lights gave the tucked away eatery a cozy ambiance, and for a moment, you thought about how different this felt already.

Toji was the fun catch. Probably the exact opposite of what you usually dated but it felt right. He kept in contact after the first date, checking in, sending great questions to get to know your day to day, making impromptu plans for a night of bowling and dinner midweek that you were really looking forward to.

You tried to feel bad about dating two people at once but it was still the early stages and you could have your fun until it gets serious. No harm, no foul.

Looking around the small room, you found Kento waiting at a small table near the window, a book beside his untouched cup of coffee. He glanced up when you entered, standing politely as you approached.

“You’re early,” you noted, smiling.

He nodded., also smiling “So are you. It’s great to see you.”

You took the seat across from him, amused by his neatly pressed collar under the cable crew neck sweater he dawned and the way he folded his hands over the table, ever the picture of composure. The server came by, taking your orders and after, you leaned in slightly. “So, do you always bring a book on dates?”

Nanami glanced at it briefly. “Only when I’m not sure if my company will arrive on time.”

You laughed. “So I passed the test?”

“Hm. Barely.” His lips quirked, the smallest hint of amusement breaking through his otherwise serious expression.

“Whats the book about?”

He smoothly pushed the book over to you. “Dragonfly in Amber from the Outlander series. I am rather new to the hubbub but I caught an episode of the series and wanted to find the books.”

Well loved, slightly tattered corners and a bookmark that you knew to be a receipt. You softly laughed as you flipped through the pages.

“You’ve got just a little left. Enjoying it?”

“Immensely. Didn’t think I still enjoyed historical fiction and fantasy like I did as a teen, but I’m invested.”

You raised your brow, “Did you read American Gods by He who we won’t be naming as of right now?”

Kento gave you a smile that you almost missed before chuckling. “I went on a 3 hour rant about the series in high school to my best friend and he hasn’t let me forget about that. So yes.”

“Now I guess its my turn to listen in.” you leaned forward.

“Well first,” Kento pushed his sleeves up and grinned, “Fuck Neil Gaiman.”

With that, you knew you were in for a treat.

As the date went on, you found conversation with Kento easy, in a way that was different from Toji. With Toji, there had been an undeniable heat, a teasing energy that felt like a game. But with Kento, there was a depth to the fun, a steadiness that made every exchange feel like a light game of tug of war.

“You have a good sense of humor,” you remarked after a particularly dry comment of his made you snort into your drink.

He sighed, shaking his head. “That’s what people say when they’re surprised.”

You grinned. “Maybe. You just seem like you despise meetings and people who turn meetings into a social hour. Very serious.”

“I’m serious when necessary.” He tilted his head slightly, considering you. “But I do enjoy good company.”

Your stomach did a little flip at the way he said it, voice low and sure. The moment lingered, charged in a subtle way, before he shifted slightly, exhaling as if bracing himself for something.

“I should be honest with you,” Kento said, voice dipping into something quieter. “I don’t really date casually. If I’m pursuing someone, it’s because I see it going somewhere.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his directness. “Oh.”

“If that’s something you’re unsure about,” he continued, watching you carefully, “I understand. But I’d like to see you again. I find you incredibly charming and such a breath of fresh air.”

There was no pressure in his words, just quiet sincerity. And maybe it was the way he made you feel so at ease, or the warmth that had been steadily growing between you all afternoon into the evening, but your answer came easily.

“I’d like that too.”

Nanami exhaled softly, as if he’d been holding his breath. Then, just like that, he nodded, returning to his usual composed self. “Good.”

You smirked. “And here I thought you weren’t the type to smile.”

“I do,” he mused, picking up his coffee, “when given a reason.”

“So you have one now?” you countered.

“A very beautiful one in front of me right now.”

And from the way he looked at you then, you had a feeling you’d be giving him plenty.

___________________________________________________

Toji sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, thumb hovering over your contact. It was late—not too late—but late enough that he hesitated.

"Tch." He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just call, dumb ass.”

This wasn’t something he usually did. Call someone just because he’d been thinking about them too much. Because he wanted to hear their voice. Because he was starting to crave something steady, something real, and that was the last thing he thought he wanted.

Only a few months and he was whipped.

“Just call. Tell her you miss her.” He hyped himself up and sighed.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he hit the call button.

The phone rang once. Twice.

“Hey, Toji!”

Your voice—smooth, warm yet excited, familiar—sent something tight through his chest.

“Hey.” He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. "You busy?"

"Not really. Just settling in for the evening. What’s up?”

Toji exhaled through his nose. "Nothin’ really. Just figured I’d call."

A pause.

"...Figured you’d call?" You repeated, amusement slipping into your tone. "Well, this is a first."

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, already regretting this. “Don’t make it weird.”

"I’m not," you teased. "Just appreciating the moment."

Toji huffed, but he could hear the smile in your voice, and somehow, that made it easier.

“Anyway,” he said, shifting the subject.”I have some friends in town and some from my circle here.. We’re going to be heading out for some drinks, catching up and all that this weekend. Thought you might wanna come.”

That got your attention.

"Oh?" There was a playful lilt to your voice. "Are you introducing me to your friends, Fushiguro?"

Toji clicked his tongue, a huff of a laugh leaving his lips. “Don’t say it like that.”

"Like what?" You laughed.

"Like it’s a big deal," he muttered, rubbing his temple. “It’s just drinks. No big deal. Figured you’d enjoy it. Some of them will have their partners with them. Just thought, you know..”

There was another pause—short, but he felt it. Then,

"I’d love to."

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

"Good. I’ll text you the details."

"Looking forward to it," you said, and he could hear your smile again.

When you hung up, Toji stared at his phone for a second longer than he needed to, lips twitching.

"Tch. Damn brat’s got me wrapped up in this."

And he genuinely didn’t mind being all wrapped up for you.

____

The bar was buzzing, low golden lights and neon signs covered the dark brick walls that kept the crowded space. You were nestled comfortably right next to Toji as his friend surrounded you at each turn. The pink haired brothers were in attendance, some gym colleagues, pals from his prime and a guy named Shiu who kept asking you just what was it that had you willing to be seen in public with ‘ToFu’.

Friends, drink in hand, laughing at a story one of them was telling. It had been surprisingly easy to blend in—their energy was rowdy but good-natured, and Toji, ever the instigator, made sure to keep you engaged.

He leaned in closer, kissing your temple as his breath brushed your ear as he murmured, “Didn’t think you’d fit in this well.”

You smirked, tilting your head toward him. “Oh? Thought I’d be shy?”

“Nah.” He took a slow sip of his drink, eyeing you. “Just figured you’d be a little thrown off. My people can be a lot.”

You glanced around—his people were definitely a lot, but in the best way. One of them had an arm slung over another’s shoulder, laughing too hard at a joke. Someone else was dramatically reenacting a moment from a fight at the gym. And yet, despite all the chaos, it felt easy. Like you’d been here before. He had good people around him and you could tell it meant the world for them to welcome you so easily.

Toji watched you take it all in, his expression unreadable for a second before he said, “There was someone I really wanted you to meet tonight, but he got caught up with something.”

You turned back to him. “Oh? Someone important?”

Toji shrugged. “Old friend and business partner. Known him a long time. Thought you two would get along.” He smirked, taking another sip of his drink. “Guess we’ll see when we get together soon.”

Something about the way he said it made you curious, but before you could ask, someone called his name. “Be right back sweet girl.”

“Take your time. Gonna get another drink.” He kissed the top of your head before making his way off the couch and to the other side of the bar, now pulled into another conversation.

You let it go, enjoying the rest of the night and ordering another blue Hawaiian.

Then your phone buzzed. You glanced down, heart skipping slightly when you saw the name.

Kento Nanami.

You swiped open the message.

>Thinking of you. Glad I got to see you this morning.

A small smile tugged at your lips. Then, another text popped up.

>Would you like to be my plus one for a wedding? I know its last minute but wasn’t sure whats too fast for a wedding invite..

Your stomach flipped. The timing was almost comical—here you were, hanging out with Toji, being immersed in his world and now Nanami was casually asking you to a wedding.

“I really have to figure this shit out soon.” you whispered to yourself. “Can you add an extra shot to that blue Hawaiian? Lets just double it, actually.”

You glanced up at Toji, who was still caught up in conversation, unaware of the coincidence unfolding in your hands.

Biting your lip, you tapped out a response.

<Hmm. Tell me more.

As you stared at Nanami’s message, fingers hovering over the keyboard, a slow grin crept onto your lips. A wedding invite? That was definitely unexpected.

Toji’s voice pulled you back into the present. “You good?”

You quickly locked your phone and looked up to see him watching you with that sharp, unreadable expression of his. You weren’t sure if he’d caught your shift in focus, but there was something in his gaze—mild curiosity, maybe.

“Yeah,” you said easily, swirling the last bit of your drink before taking the fresh one. “Just got an interesting text.”

Toji arched a brow, smirking. “From some poor bastard trying to win you over?”

You snorted. “Something like that.”

Toji chuckled, leaning back against the bar, bringing you with him. “Well, whoever it is, tell ‘em they gotta step their game up if they wanna keep up.”

You hummed, pocketing your phone. “Oh? And what’s the standard, exactly?” you sat your drink down and wrapped your arms around Toji’s neck. He gently rested his fingers at your waist, tracing the curve before running his hand up your side.

His smirk deepened as he studied you. “Guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

“Count me in then.”

He leaned in for a quick peck and brushed a coil from your face. ‘Counted.”

The heat in his gaze sent a small thrill down your spine, but before the moment could stretch into something heavier, one of his friends called for another round, and Toji turned to flag down the bartender. “What would they do without me, huh?” he joked before letting you go but not letting you stray. He kept a hand behind him as he leaned over the bar, reaching so you could hold his hand. You grabbed onto a belt loop and grinned.

“Good girl.”

With his attention elsewhere, you pulled your phone back out and finally typed a reply to Nanami.

<A wedding, huh? Sounds like an interesting night.

His response came quicker than expected.

>It will be. More so if you’re there.

You pressed your lips together, amused by his smoothness.

<Then I’d be honored to be your plus one.

<If its okay.. mind if I come by once I wrap up with my friends? Want to see you before your trip.

Just as you sent the message, Toji nudged your arm, drawing you back to the moment. “C’mon,” he said, handing you your drink. “No more distractions. Tonight’s about fun.”

You smiled, raising your glass to his and sitting your phone down. “Agreed.”

But even as you laughed and enjoyed the night with Toji, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone every so often, wondering just who else is trying to get your attention.

_____

Nanami set his phone down on the table, exhaling softly as he ran a hand through his hair. A small part of him hadn’t expected an immediate response to his invitation, but when he saw the reply pop up—

>Then I’d be honored to be your plus one.

>If its okay.. mind if I come by once I wrap up with my friends? Want to see you before your trip.

<Call me when you're on your way. See you soon

—he felt a quiet satisfaction settle in his chest.

He let the message sit for a moment before locking his phone and stretching his shoulders. The day had been long, but not unbearable. He glanced at the time—just past 11 PM. He wanted to make it out to meet the woman who could stand to be around Toji for longer than 5 minutes, but business had to be handled.

Toji was probably still out with his group, which meant he was either three drinks in or already being egged into a round of arm-wrestling.

Shaking his head, Nanami grabbed his phone again and scrolled to Toji’s contact, pressing call.

The line rang twice before a gruff, familiar voice answered. “Yeah?”

Nanami leaned back in his chair. “Still alive, I assume?”

There was a low chuckle on the other end. “Barely. These bastards keep tryin’ to make me drink like I don’t have shit to do in the morning.”

Nanami smirked. “That ‘shit’ wouldn’t happen to be our spar, would it?”

“Depends.” Toji sounded amused. “You gonna actually put up a fight this time, or you still stickin’ to that technical shit?”

Nanami sighed, already used to this brand of provocation. “It’s called strategy, Toji.”

“It’s called boring, Kento.” Toji huffed. “But yeah, we’re still on. What, you thought I’d bail?”

Nanami let a beat pass. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Toji scoffed. “Tch. That was one time, and I had a good reason.”

“Falling asleep doesn’t count as a good reason.”

Toji outright laughed at that, the sound cutting through the noise in the background.

“Fair enough,” he admitted. “Anyway, what’s got you callin’ this late? You miss me?”

Nanami rolled his eyes, ignoring the warmth of familiarity in the exchange. “Just checking in. wanted to see how the night out with everyone was.”

“Yeah?” Toji paused. “It’s winding down. Had a few drinks but I think I’m ready to call it a night. You got plans tonight?”

Nanami glanced at his phone, at the last message he’d sent. His fingers drummed against the table. “Nothing too pressing. Once I finished with those investors, I just wanted to turn in for the night.”

There was a small beat of silence before Toji spoke again. “Huh. Guess that means I’m not the only one seeing someone interesting lately.”

Nanami’s brows lifted slightly, chuckling as he didn’t take the bait. “Not sure how you got that from me saying I wanted to come straight home.”

“I mean, I couldn’t even tempt you with an old fashioned. Clearly I’ve got competition.”

“See you in the morning, Toji.”

“Yeah, yeah. Try not to dream about me.”

Nanami ended the call before Toji could get another word in, shaking his head at his friend’s usual antics.

Tomorrow, they’d spar like they always did. Just another routine morning between them.

At least, that’s what Nanami told himself.

____

Kento met Toji during his first year in the professional league. Young, no where near impressionable but he was 26 and in the same weight class as the then current reigning heavy weight champ, Toji “Heavenly Heavy-hitter” Fushiguro. Second longest holder of the title until Kento came along and jump started the beginning of the end of Toji’s in ring career:

The seventh round was brutal.

Nanami’s breath was heavy, sweat trailing down his temple as he squared up once more. Across from him, Toji rolled out his shoulders, shaking off the last hit like it was nothing—but Nanami knew better.

He’d felt it. The slight hesitation in Toji’s movement, the way his stance adjusted just a little too late. The man was powerful, aggressive, experienced—but he was also slowing down. He was on the verge of not having enough fight.

Toji grinned through the ache settling in his ribs. “Not bad, kid.”

Nanami didn’t respond. He never did, not in the ring. He just tightened his guard and waited for the next move.

Toji took the bait. He always did.

He lunged, throwing a hook aimed right for Nanami’s side. But Nanami had spent six rounds studying him, learning the way he moved, the way he favored power over precision. And this time, he was ready.

He sidestepped just enough to let the punch skim past before snapping forward, a clean right uppercut landing square under Toji’s chin.

The impact sent a sharp crack through the arena. Toji’s head snapped back, his stance faltering—then, just as quickly, Nanami followed up with a left cross, striking right through Toji’s loose guard to his ribs.

Toji’s body swayed before his legs finally gave out.

The crowd erupted as the referee rushed in, starting the count.

Nanami didn’t move. He stood still, heart pounding, waiting. Toji groaned from the mat, blinking up at the lights above him. He could hear the count, knew his time was running out—but for once, he didn’t push himself to rise.

Every time he was asked when was he going to retire his answer was always “When someone knocks me out and the heavens open. That’ll be my time.”

And it did. That day, in front of millions, Toji happily accepted retirement and handed over the title to Kento “Time Keeper” Nanami

“…Shit.” A breathy chuckle left his lips as he exhaled through his nose, tasting copper. “Guess that’s that.”

The count hit ten.

The fight was over.

Nanami had won.

When the referee raised his hand, he barely registered the cheers. His gaze remained on Toji as the man was helped to keep standing up. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Nanami braced himself for bitterness—resentment, maybe.

Instead, Toji smirked, wiping blood from his lip. “Didn’t think a rookie could drop me like that.” He embraced him, speaking directly into his ear. “You got me.”

Nanami took a slow breath before finally speaking. “You made me really fight for it. But you underestimated me.”

Toji scoffed. “That won’t happen again.”

It didn’t.

In the weeks that followed, Toji reached out—not as a sore loser, but as someone who saw something in Nanami that others hadn’t. They trained together, Toji pushing Nanami beyond what his previous coaches had dared to and they became the duo of there time.

And when Nanami eventually retired early from the ring 7 years later, it wasn’t the end of their dynamic.

It was just the beginning.

__

The cadenced sound of gloves smacking against pads filled the air as Toji and Nanami circled each other in the ring, sweat glistening on their skin under the overhead lights. It wasn’t a serious match—just an easy back-and-forth, a way to stay sharp and kill time between training sessions and before a final investors meeting.

“You’ve been looking a little distracted, pretty boy,” Toji smirked, ducking under a jab before landing a playful tap against Nanami’s ribs. “What’s got you all caught up in your head?”

Nanami exhaled sharply, stepping back and rolling his shoulders. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Toji’s grin widened. “No shit? Me too.” He danced back on the balls of his feet, shaking out his hands. “Met her here at the gym actually. She’s different from the usual crowd—fun, smart. Real easy to talk to.”

“She a boxer? Or just looking to train.” Nanami leaned back against the ropes, rolling his neck before beginning to remove his gloves.

“She came in wanting to sign up for some beginners kickboxing courses. We did some friendly sparring and it turned into a whole thing.”

Kento smirked. “A whole thing he says.” He smoothed his hair back and raised his eyebrows, amazed at how casually Toji was talking about this. “So clearly she isn’t just some fling. Shes meeting friends and even has you going to bed before 2 am on a Friday.”

Toji smacked his lips and laughed. “She’s a great girl. Sweet, really into her books and interest. I really dig her.”

“Well good. Maybe now you’ll stop trying to drag me out of the house since you have someone else to take with you.”

“I’ll never stop trying.” Toji grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. “So how about you? Where’d you meet your girl?”

Kento slid his glasses back on, nodding. “I met mine at the store.”

“The store?” Toji barked a laugh, throwing a lazy hook that Nanami effortlessly deflected. “What, she bump into you in the bakery section and you share a baguette?”

Nanami sighed, but there was a small smirk threatening at the corner of his mouth. “She enjoys sweets, conventions and historical fantasy, We ran into each other in about 5 different aisles and I ended up asking her out for lunch. She’s is really something special. Intelligent, kind. Kinda quirky. Like a breath of fresh air.”

“Look at Time Keeper, Kento. All ready to settle down.”

“Its only been a few months.” He spoke firmly, his thoughts now drifting to you as he visualized how he saw you last. Hair in twist, gold cuffs dawned on every other strand as you sat in his lap. “But I think she’s good for me. Definitely getting me out of my comfort zone with the conventions she wants to take me to.”

Toji hummed, stepping back to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “She’d probably like my girl. She’s into anime and other pop culture events. She had me way across town looking for trinkets. She’s got a weird thing for those little anime snacks—Demon Slayer, I think?” He shook his head, amused.

“She gets these ones with a little prize inside. Has me looking for one of a guy named... Gyomei?”

Nanami froze mid-step. His stance didn’t change, but there was a flicker of realization in his sharp gaze. He blinked once. Then twice.

“…Gyomei.” The name left his lips like a heavy revelation.

Toji raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. What’s up?”

Nanami sighed, unraveling the tape from his hands, thinking, movements deliberate. “Is she also looking for one with white hair?”

“Tengen.” they spoke in unison.

“It’s the same woman.” Kento couldn’t help but huff out a chuckle, head now swimming at the actual thought of dating the same person as Toji.

For a beat, there was silence. Then Toji’s grin stretched wider, a chuckle building in his chest before spilling into full-blown laughter. “Oh, this is rich.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, shaking his head. “So, we’ve been dating the same girl this whole time?”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “It appears so.”

Toji leaned on the ropes, still chuckling. “Well, well, Ken. We’ve got a problem.”

“I don’t see a problem. I’m not planning on stepping back.”

Toji grinned. “Good. You shouldn’t.”

“You don’t plan on doing so either. I see.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, Toji smirked. “We both think highly of her.”

“We do. And I personally don’t want to give any ultimatums. We’re adults.”

Soooo… you wanna mess with her a little? Just to make her heart race a little.”

Nanami sighed, rubbing his temple. “I have an idea…but what do you have in mind?”

­____________________

Toji has asked you out for an impromptu lunch since he’d been busy in the last week. Kento had also been a bit busy, explaining that his business partner had some final plans that he needed to sign off on before the end of the week.

So you seemingly decided to enjoy the slow down of your dating life while they lived their lives.

You walked into Toji’s gym, looking around until your eyes landed on the two gentlemen.

Toji and Nanami standing there—side by side, arms crossed, staring at you like they were holding onto some ridiculous secret.

“I..” your mouth dried immediately as they looked at you.

“How are you, honey?”

“Why do you look like you just solved a case?” you asked cautiously.

Toji grinned. “Because we did, sweetheart. A case of double dating.”

Your stomach dropped.

Nanami sighed, adjusting his tie. “To be clear, we’re not upset.”

You felt heat rush to your face. “I—okay, I know this looks bad.” You exhaled, rubbing the skin between your thumb and pointer. “I just… I should’ve figured things out sooner. Made a choice.”

Toji’s grin widened. “Oh, babe, we’re not mad at ya for that.”

Nanami, standing beside him with his usual air of composure, nodded. “There’s no need to choose.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “…What?”

Toji slung an arm around Nanami’s shoulder, smirking. “See, me and Kento here? We’re great with sharing.”

Nanami closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if regretting his life choices, but ultimately didn’t deny it.

You blinked at them, trying to process. “So… you’re both okay with this?”

Nanami exhaled. “We discussed it and came to an agreement. Since neither of us intends to walk away, we believe it’s best to set some ground rules.”

Toji leaned in slightly, his voice teasing. “That is… if you’re down to handle both of us.”

Your heart pounded. These men were dangerous. Not in a physical way—no, in the way that made it way too easy to fall for them.

Still, you bit your lip, a little skeptical. “And what exactly are these rules?”

Nanami, ever the rational one, began listing them off. “No favoritism. We split time equally.”

Toji shrugged. “Yeah, no sneaky sleepovers with one of us more than the other. And don’t think you can butter me up with extra kisses. I see through that.”

You snorted. “You literally love when I do that.”

Toji smirked. “…Maybe.”

Nanami continued, “We’ll have a set schedule. Communication is key.”

“Right, so like… a shared calendar?” you teased.

Toji laughed. “Shit, yeah. Google Calendar, color-coded for ‘Toji time’ and ‘Nanami time.’”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “I refuse to let this relationship be reduced to an appointment system.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to think. “…And what do I get out of this?”

Toji leaned in, voice low and full of promise. “Two boyfriends who’ll spoil the hell outta you with affections and time.”

Nanami sighed but, in the end, nodded. “What we feel for you is undeniable. And we both agree that having you in our lives has been good for us separately. So why not together? If you’re comfortable with that of course.”

A slow smile spread across your lips. “…Alright. Deal.”

Toji grinned. “Good girl.”

Nanami exhaled, already bracing for the chaos ahead. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

Toji clapped him on the back. “You’ll live, big guy.”

_____

The evening had been perfect.

Toji and Kento had gone all out—candles, soft music, and a dinner that could rival any five-star restaurant. Nanami had taken charge of the main course, ensuring it was plated with precision, while Toji handled the dessert with an almost smug confidence. Between the two of them, they had created the perfect night in.

Now, as dinner wound down, you sat between them at the candlelit table, feeling the warmth of good food, wine, and their undivided attention.

Nanami, ever the gentleman, refilled your glass before meeting your gaze. “So, was your first Valentines Day with us up to your standards?”

Toji smirked, leaning back in his chair, fingers lazily tapping against his wine glass. “Yeah, sweetheart, we do good?”

You sighed dramatically, swirling your wine. “I don’t know… I think I expected a bit more.”

Toji raised a brow. “More?”

Nanami’s lips twitched. “We made you a three-course meal. Bought your favorite wine. There are literal rose petals on the floor.”

You hummed, dragging your finger along the rim of your glass. “I mean… it was nice.”

Toji narrowed his eyes, catching onto your teasing. “Nice?”

Nanami exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “She’s playing with us.”

Toji chuckled, leaning closer. “Oh, I see how it is. You wanna mess with us a little?”

You shrugged, taking a slow sip of wine. “Maybe.”

Nanami tilted his head, studying you before he decided to play along. “Alright. What would have made it better?” His voice was smooth, warm, full of that dangerous charm.

Toji smirked, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Yeah, babe, what’s missing? Candles not romantic enough? Food not to your liking?” He rested his chin on his hand. “Or maybe you just wanted something a little more… hands-on?”

Your stomach flipped.

Nanami, not to be outdone, set his wine glass down, his voice calm but laced with mischief. “We could take notes for next time. If there’s something specific you were hoping for… you should tell us.”

Your breath caught slightly. They were good at this.

Toji grinned, seeing you falter for a moment. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You were real confident a second ago.”

Your eyes flicked between them, their expectant gazes practically daring you to respond. So, you did.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table, your voice dropping into something just as teasing. “You two are awfully competitive for men who are supposedly great with sharing.”

Nanami’s lips parted slightly, and Toji let out a low chuckle.

“Oh, she’s getting cocky now,” Toji mused, tapping his fingers against the table.

You smiled, tilting your head. “I mean, if you two are trying to outdo each other for me… I should probably sit back and let you.”

Toji let out a sharp laugh, pushing back his chair. “Damn, babe.” He glanced at Nanami. “You hear that? She wants us to fight for her.”

Nanami took a slow sip of wine, then placed the glass down carefully. He met your gaze, his voice a deliberate, slow burn. “Who said we weren’t already?”

Your pulse jumped.

Toji whistled. “Shit, he’s good.”

Nanami didn’t break eye contact. “I know.”

You suddenly felt very warm.

Toji leaned in, his grin all sharp edges. “So, babe… since we both aim to please,” he drawled, “why don’t you tell us who’s winning so far?”

Nanami lifted a brow. “Yes. I’d love to hear your answer.”

You exhaled, a slow smirk forming as you met both of their gazes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Toji grinned. “Oh, we’re in trouble.”

-==========

“Meet me in the bedroom in exactly 4 minutes.” You kissed their cheeks and pranced down the hallway.

“What does your girlfriend have in store for us?” Toji finished drying the wine glasses and placed them in the cabinet. “You think she bought us some assless chaps?”

Kento sighed, wiping the table one last before taking his apron off and leaning against the counter. “Now shes my girlfriend when she’s up to no good.”

“Yet nothing on the assless chaps? I knew you were a freak, Nanami.”

That managed to get a laugh out of Kento. “Just so we’re clear, she is probably prepping for some intense night of passion. So keeping it to the standard?”

“Standard? Toji doesn’t just do standard anything. Our girl may want to wow us. Who am I to say no to the best revue in the city.”

“Then just let her lead us. First time where we are sharing her at once so lets make sure she’s feeling in control.”

Both men swore there was power in the way you pleaded without saying a word.

They thought you’d be just as stubborn in bed. A brat to tame with a mouth to keep occupied. But you gave yourself to them. Willingly. And that in itself was more powerful than anything.

“I’m ready!” you called out in a light-some tone.

Kento and Toji stilled themselves before they walked down the hall, single file style and were met with only a sigh they could only call a heavenly one.

“”Happy Valentines Day, gentlemen.” you sat in the middle of the bed wearing nothing but a t shirt with “I heart my boyfriends” splayed across the chest.

Kento took a step forward first, his eyes going immediately to your hips that had no chance of hiding under your shirt as you sat on your knees. “That is quite the shirt, honey.”

“The gift that keeps on giving.” practically salivating at the way you looked up at them, yearning for them without saying a word. He paced himself making it to the side of the bed. “You look stunning, baby.”

Nanami, ever the charismatic one, sat behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, as he began to sing a low, sensual melody. "You're exquisite," he whispered between verses, "a work of art, a goddess made flesh. Tonight, we worship you."

Toji, ever the sensualist, began his ministrations by kneeling, slowly helping you untuck your knees as he trailed soft kisses up your inner thigh, his fingertips leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. He looked up at you through hooded eyes, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he murmured, "Nanami, I think we should have a taste test first. You’ll have to make sure our girl keeps still. I want to taste you, my love. I need to feel her come undone on my tongue."

Nanami chuckled, “I’ll make sure she keeps focused.”

Toji let out a throaty rumble and the vibrations sent sparks of pleasure through you, before he settled between your legs. He started with teasing licks nips at your inner thigh, his thumb running up your glistening slit to your clit. He savored your essence as he brought his thumb to his tongue before delving in with a long, slow lick up your slit. His tongue was skilled, knowing just how to curl and flick to drive you wild.

Nanami kept up his sweet talk, one hand cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh, while the other slid down to rub slow circles around your clit, amplifying the sensations Toji was creating. "Look at him, honey. You feel him? Feel his tongue tasting you. That's it, my dear," he purred, his lips lingering at your ear as he kneaded your breast. "Isn’t Toji taking good care of you honey?”

Toji increased his pace, humping into the bed as his hardening length couldn’t stop twitching. He practically pistoned into the sheets, edging himself as he sucked your clit into his mouth, tonguing it rapidly as he pushed two fingers deep inside you, curling them just right. The dual stimulation was too much, and with a cry of ecstasy, you came undone, your walls clenching around Toji's fingers as he lapped up your release. “Toji, fuck!”

"Beautiful," Toji said, surfacing with a satisfied grin, your juices glistening on his chin as he worked his fingers until your thighs closed. He sat up and kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Nanami smirked, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

Breathless from your intense climax, you felt a surge of desire to return the favor, to make your lovers feel as incredible as you did in that moment. Toji and Kento exchanged a knowing look, a silent communication passing between them. They were competitive, yes, but only in their shared goal of giving you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.

“You know hun,” Toji stood “I think Kento has been a little wound up tight lately.”

Kento released you from his embrace and reclined back on the bed as Toji helped you to your knees.

“And I’d hate to be too wound up and not enjoy our time together.”

One arm tucked behind his head in a show of casual confidence, Kento unzipped his pants and like a spring, his cock jutted out proudly, hard and ready, a bead of pre-cum already glistening at the tip.

Emboldened, you crawled down their bodies, taking a moment to admire the qualities of their physiques. They were both exquisite in their own way, and you felt like you’d won the lottery with getting to have them all at once.

Starting at Kento's thigh, you mirrored Toji's earlier actions, trailing kisses and licks up to his groin. You could feel him shudder beneath your touch, his breath catching in his throat. Encouraged, you took his length in your hand, stroking him slowly as you flicked your tongue out to taste the pearl of pre-cum.

"Fuck," Kento gasped, his hips twitching upwards seeking more of your touch. "Your mouth feels incredible."

You took him into your mouth then, sinking down until you could feel the coarse blonde hair at the base of his cock tickling your nose. You held him there, swallowing around him, relishing the feeling of his thickness stretching your throat. He tensed, eyes closing while failing to keep a guttural grunt from escaping his lips

While you pleasured Kento with your mouth, you felt Toji shifting, getting up to stand behind you. He gripped your hips, kissing your bottom softly and biting before he pulling them up and back until you were on your hands and knees, your ass raised and presented to him. You felt the blunt head of his cock prodding at your entrance, slowly rubbing against your clit. And then, with one smooth thrust, he was inside you.

"Oh god," you moaned around Kento's cock, the dual sensations of being filled and the taste of him overwhelming your senses. Toji set a slow, deep pace, pulling nearly all the way out before sliding back in, his hips pressing against your ass.

The room filled with a symphony of sounds - the slick, obscene noises of flesh meeting flesh as Toji thrust into you, your muffled moans around Kento's cock, their grunts and curses of pleasure. It was a sensual ballet, a dance of passion and desire, with you as the centerpiece.

Kento tangled a hand in your hair, guiding your movements as you bobbed up and down on his length. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged. “All the way.”

How your eyes glistened and teared up made him want to lose his mind. He cupped your face as you slowly massaged his balls.

You continued to take Kento deep, your lips stretching around his girth, your tongue swirling around his sensitive tip. The obscene sound of your slurping and sucking filled the room, mingling with the slap of Toji's hips against your ass and your own wanton moans.

Toji gripped your hips tighter, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your ass as he picked up his pace. “Like a fucking glove.” He gritted through his teeth. “So fucking tight, mama.”

He was hitting that spot inside you with every thrust, that perfect angle that made stars explode behind your eyelids. The pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming, you could feel another orgasm building already.

Toji leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, his breath hot against your neck. "You feel incredible," he grunted, punctuating his words with a particularly hard thrust. He smiled up at Kento and with a huff, Kento grinned. “Our angel baby is doing so so good>”

Kento, not wanting to be left out, started to thrust up into your mouth, fucking your face with shallow, quick movements. "Fuck, your mouth is incredible," he grunted, his grip on your hair tightening. "I'm getting close, sweetheart. You want my cum sweetheart? Will you swallow it all like a good girl?"

you begged without a word, nodding eagerly while you kept your pace of taking him whole while he bucked his hips up

“Fuck its coming, fuck fuck,” with a thrust deep one last time, he held your head in place as he exploded in your mouth. You felt his cock pulsing, his cum shooting out in thick ropes down your throat. You swallowed it all greedily, not wanting to waste a single drop.”Fuck, look at my sweet baby.”

His dirty talk, combined with Toji's relentless pounding, pushed you over the edge. You came with a scream around Kento's cock, your pussy clamping down around Toji like a vice. The sensation of your walls fluttering and squeezing around him was too much for Toji.

“God thats it, thats it, take it baby,” With a guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you, his hot seed spurting out, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside of you.

As they both started to come down, you collapsed forward onto Kento's chest, Toji falling atop you, his softening cock still nestled inside your dripping pussy. The three of you lay tangled together, panting and sated, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my loves," you murmured, nuzzling into Kento's neck, Toji's lips finding your neck, leaving a soft kiss.

“Gonna go start her bath, take care of our girl?” Toji lightly tapped Kento’s leg as he got up slowly.

Kento waited a beat, kissing the top of your head as he lightly ran his fingers down your back. ‘You feeling okay?”

You didn’t respond quickly, a minute passing before he realized you’d fallen asleep.

“Honey?”

“You want the cocoa and vanilla soap or the lavender?” Toji came out of the bathroom, holding two bottles of soap and looked up to see your eyes closed against Kento’s chest. “Oh. She’s out.”

Kento chuckled, “Like a light. Lets give her a bit of time to rest before we get her in the bath.”

Toji nodded in agreement, sitting the bottles on the dresser before gently sitting and joining you both back in bed. He brushed your hair from your face and kissed your temple.

“So when she wakes up, I’m carrying her to the bath.” Toji whispered while looking at you.

Kento grinned and wrapped an arm around your waist“ And why do you get to? I’m sure you’re tired, old man. I’m happy to do the lifting.”

“I can’t even get a nap in without you two having a dick measuring contest.”

Toji smiled and placed his arm around you also. “It’s out of love.”

“Yes. Love and the title I took from him. The title where I retired hi-”

“Okaaay, okay.” Toji reached over to cover Kento’s mouth, “Now is not the time.”

You tried hiding your laugh but Kento had to keep going. “It was a day I recall easily. Toji was tired, looking for a chance to show he still had it.”

“This is my thirteenth reason why.”