#also something about kids being around him while he eats and him being unbothered by it

[ranarenee]

USAGI WITH KIDS COMPILATION

[old-schoolgenz]

Chapter 5: Barcus and Bluey

After enlisting Aphmau's help Abby became much more manageable. But she wasn't joking when she'd described her as a “little Katelyn” his shoulder was beginning to ache with how many times the girl had punched his arm.

Still, he was able to admire just how good Aphmau was at parenting. Her patience with Abby was awe-inspiring, her tone was soft, caring, and being so in touch with her inner child helped with playing (and distracting) Abby while he made lunch for the three of them.

Normally he would make something more complicated if it was just Aph and himself, try out a new recipe or even attempt one of hers, but right now it was baloney sandwiches for Abby and only slightly more complicated sandwiches for the both of them. It was at least something he knew the girl would eat.

“Okay! Foods Done!” He yelled from the kitchen, and was met with Abby’s voice screaming back an “Okay!” trailed by Aphmau's “Coming!”

Abby ran in giggling, looking much happier than when she arrived. She grinned up at him, which made him feel slightly uncomfortable due to mischief that usually followed a grin like that.

“Thanks Aaron!” Aphmau came in a moment later, grabbing both plates of sandwiches and handing the smaller one to Abby, who was jumping in place.

“Yeah, thank you mister!” She was already buried into the sandwich, munching away happily, good, a smile looked better on the girl than the near permanent suspicious scowl she'd worn when she first arrived.

So yes, very much like a little Katelyn then.

Aphmau also buried herself in her sandwich, humming in contentment as she chuckled at Abby’s current antics, like trying to sneak feed Celestia bits of bologna.

“Are you even packed enough to stay here a few days?” Aaron found himself asking, thoughts drifting back to who was going to sleep where, and if Aphmau would even be comfortable at all staying in the house.

“Aaron I live basically across the street, if I need something I can go get it.” She looked unbothered by the situation. So Aaron took it upon himself to also be unbothered, if she wasn't making a big deal out of it, perhaps it wasn't.

“Auntie Aphmau, can you put my favorite show on? It's starting soon.” Abby had already finished and was dragging Aphmau by the hand from the table even though her sandwich was only half eaten.

“Woah, Abby slow down!” But she was laughing and shooting an apologetic glance at Aaron before being dragged off to his living room. The sound of a kids show followed soon after.

Aaron took the chance to finish setting up the guest room, taking the very few old toys he had and setting them around incase Abby wanted to play with them. Although he doubted it, it wasn't much except old toy cars and outdated action figures.

Aphmau was rather intently watching another episode of Bluey, she had to admit that the show had captivated her more than she'd ever thought, and she was grateful for the adult jokes and themes to keep her entertained too.

And Abby… well Abby seemed to just like the chaos the two sister characters put their parents through, she hoped she wasn't getting any idea's including her and Aaron.

Speaking of, he'd gone upstairs and hadn't come down yet, while she didn't think he'd leave her to watch Abby alone she did think that he may still be a bit overwhelmed, which was fair. He'd always been wary around people, and Abby could be… excitable.

“I'll be right back Abby, I'm gonna go check on Aaron.” She ruffled the young girls hair and felt her charge nod. Still engrossed in the television.

She made her way up the stairs, idly she thought about how she hadn't spent much time up here, as the only thing up here was the guest room and Aaron's bedroom, apart from the bathroom of course.

She checked his room first, half expecting him to be sitting on the bed but found him absent from the black fleece sheets. So she knocked hesitantly on the guest bedroom door only for it to creak open to find Aaron standing near the bed, trying to get the only plushie he had in his possession to sit up on the bed.

“Come on… work with me here.” She heard him mutter underneath his breath as he tried to gently coax the well-loved terrier plush into a sitting position without it falling over.

Aphmau couldn't help but smile at his efforts, digging out his old toys for Abby to play with was terribly sweet of him. Expessially the terrier plush he'd had as a baby. She was thankful Abby was usually gentle with toys that weren't hers, otherwise she probably would have told him to keep it out of sight.

Aaron would be a great dad. And she wasn't sure how she knew that but she did know. He had so much love to give, and it wasn't like she didn't know how badly he'd wanted a family of his own. He'd done everything but outright tell her that. Telling her about how terribly fucked up his childhood actually was without going into too much detail.

“Aph? How long have you been standing there?” Whoops, she'd gotten lost in her thoughts and stared at him like a dweeb, oh well.

“Sorry, I came up to check on you, you'd been up here awhile.” She glanced over at the plush, it was sitting finally.

“Oh. Yeah I wanted to finish setting up the room her her, dug out some old toys.” He gestured to the shelf of toy cars and action figures.

“And Barcus.”

Aaron immediately flushed red, regretting wholeheartedly in that moment he'd ever told her the name of the terrier plush, he glanced over at it, feeling the heat crawl up his back.

“He… always made me feel better whenever  I was in an unfamiliar place. I thought…” He grumbled off, far too embarrassed to continue whatever he was about to say.

“Oh Aaron that's so cute”

“It's sweet.” Is what she actually said, shuffling over to him and putting a hand on his back to lead him back downstairs.

“Now, come join us, Abby is probably still watching Bluey. Then maybe you can actually bond with her?” Aphmau smiled warmly at him, causing old butterflies to stir in his gut, if only for a second, before they quickly dissipated.

“You think?” He questioned lightly, still feeling the nerves of being ambushed by responsibility.

“Once she sees how sweet of a guy you are, she'll be all over you just like she is with her dad. Trust me.”

They find Abby downstairs, still watching the TV but cuddling in her other hand a turtle plushie, still looking pleased if not only a little somber.

Her face brightened up a little at the sight of them coming around the corner into the living room. And she started to hop on her place on the couch, gesturing the both of them to sit down.

Aaron stole a glance over at his best freind. Who elbowed him gently in the side while her mouth bubbled out a pleased laugh.

“See? It's not so bad.”

[sweetbillwriting]

The Finer Things

Part 3 - Too Many Questions

Description: Ines lives a modest life in Brooklyn but has a secret, a valuable painting. Out of nowhere Vincent De Gramont appears and wants to help her sell it. He welcomes her into a life of luxury the question is just why?

Characters: Vincent De Garmont, The Marquis, From John Wick 4, the rest are my own characters.

Setting: This story is set in my own universe, so not exactly the John Wick universe.

Warnings: 18+, prejudice and stereotypical thinking about nationalities, mentions about sex, alcohol, talk about body and weight.

Notes: Don't hate me if the French is bad, it's google translate! The reason why I don't write out the translation is because Ines doesn't understand but of course you can use your sources to translate it if you want to know more than her haha!

He looked at her strangely while he chewed his steak slowly. Ines had expected him to eat something more classy than steak fries but he ate pleased. 

“I guess I like it?” He answered a bit dismissively and looked out at rainy Paris. It wasn't the best side of Paris Ines got to see. She had just asked him about his habit of being barefoot and smirked a little. Vincent was dressed in a gray three piece suit but had taken off his jacket and let a servant hold it while he was eating. The servant didn't look so pleased that he was forced to be a human clothes hanger. 

“You look embarrassed by the question,” she said teasingly and leaned forward on her elbows. 

“No elbows on the table,” he said bluntly without looking at her. Ines leaned back so Vincent could see the dusty purple midi dress she wore. The chiffon was light and floated around her legs. 

“Come on, why?” She said when the embarrassment from her bad manners had been forgotten. 

Vincent sighed and took a sip of his wine. He looked uncomfortable but gave her a long look. 

“My uncle had this… Big castle with soft rugs in every room. I was there a lot as a kid and I guess I just liked feeling the soft materials against my feet…” he said while wiping the corner of his mouth with the napkin he had laid out in his lap. Ines had laid hers the same way, it felt like it was expected. She smiled at his story. Little Vincent must have been cute with his big eyes. A little dolly. 

“But a castle? That's insane! Did you also live in a castle?” 

He still didn't look at her, just cut the steak elegantly. 

“No, not a castle.” 

Ines giggled a little, she could just imagine him living in a mansion that for her would be a castle. 

“Your home outside of Paris, is it pretty?” 

Now Vincent finally looked up at her but then sighed. 

“I like Shangri-La better.” 

He was silent again while Ines tried to come up with more questions while eating. 

“Your parents are dead. Mine too,” he suddenly said. It wasn't at all what Ines expected him to say. Even if she had asked him so many questions she wasn't really comfortable with that subject so she didn't say anything. Vincent just continued to eat unbothered and Ines got the feeling he had just said it to make her shut up. 

They went home to the hotel with a limo after having eaten up. They still were quiet even if Ines wanted to gush over the luxurious limousine. They went to their respective bedrooms without a word. She felt uncomfortable even if it was her own fault. She could have just continued the conversation, especially when Vincent seemed so comfortable dropping that his parents were dead too. She wondered how he knew but could guess, such a rich man probably looked up every person he was around.

There was a knock on the door when she stood in her underwear hanging up the pretty dress. She covered herself with her hands as a reflex. 

“I'm not dressed!” She said in panic. 

“I will not open if you don't give me permission,” Vincent said calmly. “I ordered dessert for us… And a bottle of champagne. I wonder if you want to join me to talk about the plan? About the painting?” 

Ines felt her heart beat in her chest. It sounded kinda romantic, even if she knew it wasn't his purpose. 

“Yeah… Okay? I will… Put something on.” 

“Do that,” he said with an uninterested voice. Ines sighed while she pulled on a pair of old sweats and a hoodie. He wasn't charming, he wasn't interested in her and he didn’t want intimacy. She had no reason to dress up for him. 

She opened her door with a sour look just to show him how disappointed she was by it all but she couldn't hold her face for long. In the big living room with a view over Paris and the Eiffel tower, it was dark, but not so dark she couldn't see anything. Paris' many street lights made it brighter but also the candles that were lit in high candle holders on the floor and tables. She could smell vanilla and something floral scented, something that made her think about Vincent's cologne. She looked at him when he came into the room with two coupe glasses and the champagne in a gold ice bucket. He was dressed in a black silk pajamas with a discreet pattern. 

“What is this?” She said, shocked while she quickly checked her appearance in one of the many big mirrors. 

“Evening dessert?” He said and gave her a confused look. “Didn't you hear what I said through the door?” 

“Yes but… This?” She pointed at the candles while Vincent sat down on the cream colored couch. Elegantly he laid one leg over another and Ines gave his bare foot a look. Why did she suddenly like watching his feet? It was odd and embarrassing. 

“They are there for a reason?” He just said and opened the champagne bottle easily with his big hands. 

Ines laughed a little confused and gave the man dressed in silk an examining look. It was a romantic setting but he didn't want intimacy. She couldn't read him at all. Maybe he just liked the classical romantic things, it was possible but wouldn't he hold back on such things when he lived with a single woman? 

There was a soft knock at the door and both of them looked up. The Marquis raised his voice and said something in French that made the person outside of the door open it. A smartly dressed waiter came into the room with a trolley with several silver coupes. He said something in french but Vincent just gave him a short answer before he left again. 

“I really need to learn French,” said Ines painfully. She knew it would be hard. 

“You should. He just wondered if he should present the food but I don't like it when they stay too long.” 

Ines looked at him amused while he poured champagne for them both. When he was finished and reached for a glass for her she still looked the same. He looked at her unamused, he had clearly already learned she would make a comment. 

“What?”

“You're such a snob!” She exclaimed but with humor in her voice. “Can't have the peasant close to where you sleep?” 

Vincent took a big gulp even if it wasn't the way to drink vintage champagne but he just needed the alcohol. 

“That was not what I meant.” 

“Mhm,” said Ines with a smirk and then took a sip from her own glass. She looked more elegant than him. 

He shook his head annoyed and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He walked up to the trolley and lifted the coupes one after another. 

“What do you like?” 

“Uuuuh, I love chocolate ,” said Ines and ran up to him playfully. Vincent gave her a fast look then down at the three different desserts. 

“I think this is mine then,” he said and took the plate that looked like a symphony of different chocolates. Ines gasped and wanted to hit him playfully but he felt annoyed for real. 

“You just took that one so I wouldn't get it!” She said and looked down at the dessert with pink shades and the other that just seemed to be an apple pie. He clearly took the best one. 

“No, I took it because I wanted it.” He said bluntly and sat down on the couch again with the dessert balanced in one hand. 

“It was just because I called you a snob,” she said and took the pink dessert in her hands. “You've been such a perfect gentleman before.” 

Vincent didn't say anything, just ate slowly while Ines sat down. She looked at him while she also started to eat. It was good and even had some white chocolate in the mix. 

“Can I taste it?” She asked playfully which made Vincent furrow his brows. 

“From my plate?” He almost sounded upset and Ines giggled a little. 

“I can use my own spoon…” 

He gave her a fast look and put down his plate on the table. 

“You can taste mine… It's actually really moist…” she said it playfully sexy because she knew what she said could sound like she talked about something else because even if Vincent seemed irritated she got a feeling he actually liked it.

He continued to stare down at his plate but gave hers a look when she put it down next to his. He sighed and dragged his hands over his thighs. 

“Fine!” He said irritatedly and leaned back on the couch. Ines looked at him amused and giggled. On purpose she leaned forward with a curved back and laid a hand on his thigh like she couldn't reach the plate otherwise. Even if she couldn't see his face she sucked the spoon greedily after having tasted it and made a moaning sound. 

“ That was soo good…” she said and turned to him. She looked at him playfully but he looked just as annoyed. 

“I hope your hand is clean because I don't want grease stains on my pajamas.” 

Ines felt her face drop. It wasn't the reaction she had hoped for and hadn't even thought about. She leaned back on the couch and swallowed hard. She didn't feel embarrassed, more stunned someone could be like him. 

Vincent sighed and sipped his champagne. 

“Are you ready to talk about the plan or should I wait until tomorrow?” He said and looked at her with a bored expression. Ines looked back at him with a confused face but it got so irritated by seeing his bored expression.

“Just get it over with.” 

××× 

His plan was that he would let the rumors go about the painting, send some pictures to the art knowing people and get the ball rolling. A few days later there would be a charity gala where they could go mingle with potential buyers. He was clear that she could be her most charming colorful self there and talk about her grandmother warmly. His part was to organize the speculators to see the painting and hopefully get it sold to the highest bidder. 

“So… My role is just being there and being… funny?” She asked with furrowed brows. She looked at Vincent closely and was fascinated by his skin. Didn't he have pores? 

“To be as vibrant as the painting. It's worth a lot to see the woman in the painting through a living person. You're so alike her,” said Vincent and crossed his legs again. 

“So be there, be pretty and charming?” 

“But don't forget the manners. You don't eat from someone else's plate.” 

There was some humor in his voice but it was so hard to detect Ines wondered if she had imagined it.

“Yeah yeah, yeah…” 

“Yes,” he pronounced clearly. 

Ines gave him an irritated look and stood up. 

“God, you're like an annoying teacher!” 

She took the last of her champagne. “I'm going to bed. You can sit here by yourself and say ‘yes’!” She looked at him annoyed and put down her glass but in a swift movement also took the chocolate dessert. 

“Good night!” She said and stomped away to her bedroom. 

××× 

That Vincent de Gramont was an annoying snob was obvious. That he liked sweets, had great skincare and alluring charisma was also obvious. Ines laid awake and looked up at the ceiling with crossed arms. She was tired of him, so tired. To be with a person that corrected her all the time would not be fun. Once again she was with a person that believed they knew her own self better than her. 

She already needed a break for him. After getting ready for the day in a powder pink blouse and black pants she walked out to the shared space. It was empty. She had expected him to be sitting on the couch or maybe by the table reading. She looked around confused, then annoyed but after having listened to the silence of the expensive suite she just felt sad and alone. She had wanted a break from him but now she felt a heavy panic beat in her chest. What she didn't notice was that the painting, which had stood hidden in a hallway, was gone. Her future but also her past had disappeared. Ines just continued to walk around hurt that Vincent had left her alone and decided to be kinder to him when he came back. That she should stop making sexual jokes and asking too many questions. She should be less. Be a classy woman. The fifth time she walked by the door to the suite opened up by Vincent dressed in a sage green suit, she couldn't say if he had had it before.

“Oh my god! Where have you been?!” She acclaimed upset and a bit too loudly to not make Vincent's eyes get bigger than they already were. He walked into the suite with a strange look on his face and took off his well polished shoes. 

“Hello??” She said and almost jumped to express her frustration. 

“Did you drink too much coffee or something today?” He asked him and put his jacket on the back of a chair. 

“No!” She said annoyed and stomped with her foot. Vincent looked down at her feet and furrowed his brows then he shook his head like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. 

“I met a speculator. On the painting.” 

He gave her a calming look. With his hands rested on the back of a chair. Ines looked at him and let her heartbeat settle. 

“Really?” She sat down on the chair opposite the one he was resting on. 

“Yeah. I've moved the painting to a conference room that is at the end of the hallway so we can be there to meet buyers. Pierre is guarding it. But the buyer…” Vincent sighed and sat down. “He wanted to pay nothing. Like nothing.” 

Ines nodded with big eyes. She understood that nothing didn't mean he wanted it for free but it was nothing for a rich man as Vincent. 

“Oh… But others will pay more for it?”

“Absolutely.” 

He looked at Ines reassuringly and then smiled friendly. Ines felt her cheeks warm and smiled back. Vincent smiled bigger and licked his lips. 

“Tu es une très jolie fille,” he said with a soft voice. Ines furrowed her brows and got irritated that she didn't know any french. 

“What? You can't speak French to me! I don't understand a thing, you know that!” 

Vincent smirked and stood up. 

“Dommage que tu sois juste une Américaine agaçante.” 

“You said something about me being an American!” She pointed at him and gasped. Vincent just continued to smirk and took his jacket from the chair next to him. 

“Apprends le français et peut-être que j'élargirai les règles pour toi. Je promets que ça vaut le coup.” He walked confidently to his room. “Can you order some tea for us?” 

Ines furrowed her brows in confusion, both by the French but also the tea. 

“What about breakfast?” She asked and listened to her stomach grumble. 

Vincent made an amused face and looked at her where he stood in the doorway to his room. 

“It was three hours ago. The clock is eleven.” 

××× 

Ines felt like she played house with Vincent when she lived with him in the suite of Shangri-La, but that sort of game jetset kids played. She slept in long in the mornings, did luxurious treatments in the hotel spa and made herself ready for dinner out with Vincent when he came home from his meetings. He had met with some buyers the couple days she had stayed there and over dinner he complained about how awful they tried to bargain with him. He got her to laugh, but more by his attitude and snobby ways but for every time she laughed he seemed to like it more and more. 

She had been there five nights when it was time for them to go to the charity gala and meet rich, rich people. If she hadn't had Vincent she would have skipped it because of her nervousness. She didn't feel it was fun at all because the nerves took over. 

She knocked on Vincent's door after she heard the shower being shut off for a while. 

“Yes?” He said through the door. 

“Ehhh… Can you help me?” She asked and looked down at her well manicured toes she had done in the hotel spa. She was just dressed in a fluffy robe but her hair and makeup were done to perfection. 

“With what?” 

She sighed to herself because it was embarrassing to confess how little she knew about his world. 

“What I should wear…” 

Vincent didn't say anything and it made Ines feel even more stupid.

“Hello?” 

Vincent opened the door and looked down at her where she stood. He also wore one of the hotel's fluffy robes and his hair was wet. Ines smiled a bit by seeing him so natural and rosy cheeked. 

“I can help you. If you listen.” 

Ines rolled her eyes but led him to her room. For her it wasn't a big deal to invite a man to her room, both dressed in robes but Vincent felt differently and paused outside of the door. 

“Soo… Does black work?” She said and showed him a black dress, or she thought she showed him but realized he stood outside of the doorway. “Why are you standing there?” 

Vincent gave her a pointed look with crossed arms. 

“You're a lady.” 

“Yes, but I invited you in?” 

“Sometimes it's not about that.” 

Ines gave him an irritated look and rolled her eyes.

“Are you slut shaming me now for letting you come into my room?” 

Vincent looked at her confused, confused in a way she hadn't seen him before. 

“No? No, definitely not. It's…” he cleared his voice and looked around awkwardly. 

“It just goes against what I normally do,” he said politely and Ines examined him to see if he told the truth. He looked awkward but tried to hide it behind a hard mask. 

“Okay… Emm… Can you come in now then? Just to help me?” Ines said and looked at the dress instead of him. Vincent cleared his throat and walked in with a straight back. Ines' heart beated heavily in her chest. She had such a hard time reading him and didn't know if he had manners or just issues but she got the feeling there was another man behind that well polished surface. He stopped next to her and before she had asked her question again he had taken the hanger from her hand and put it back in the wardrobe. 

“It's a formal party, you must wear a full length dress. Not black that's… A woman with real style doesn't wear black to a charity event,” he said dismissively and pulled out a red full length dress to her. 

“You have the right skin for red and tonight you should get all the attention.” He sounded like he gave her orders and looked at her like she was a project. 

“The dress is backless, do you need nipple covers? The hotel can fix that.” 

“Oh… Oh… Yeah that would be good?” She got a bit overwhelmed by it all but also a bit embarrassed that Vincent dressed her like she was his Barbie doll, or even worse, his daughter. 

“I’ll call them,” he said and started to walk out of the room. Ines looked at his broad back. She was grateful for his help but knew he would be angry when she told him the bitter truth. 

“But Vincent…” her voice came out thick and weird and she could feel how it rasped in her throat. Vincent turned around with a questioning look. 

“Shoes?” 

He made a sound of amusement that almost sounded like a laugh and walked back to the room with eyes on the stilettos he had bought her. 

“I can't walk in heels…” 

Ines felt her face get red and looked away to not see Vincent. He had stopped in his motion and just stared at her. After a few painful seconds in silence Ines looked at him. He clenched his jaw like he was pissed and pulled on the rope to the robe. 

“I've worn the ballerina flats this week, can't I just use them?” She asked nervously and Vincent shut his eyes as a response. 

“You will wear the powder pink strappy sandals. The color will work well with the red especially if you wear that pink clutch bag also.” He said and opened his eyes to give her a striked look. 

“I would feel much more comfortable in the flats…” 

“But now you aren't five years old. Wear the pink heels,” said he with a hard voice and turned around to walk back to his own room. 

When she was alone she laid out the dress on the bed and looked at it dejectively. The skirt was full and pleated while the neck was high to contrast with the deep back. It was so pretty but it didn't feel good how Vincent decided what she would wear with such an iron fist. She knew it was his world and he knew best but to go against herself completely, to that degree she would have serious anxiety wasn't right. She put on the dress and looked at herself in the mirror. Vincent would see the obvious problem too. She felt the tears push behind her eyes and took a deep breath. She wasn't at all the kind of woman that Vincent should have on his arm. She walked out from the room and walked with slumped shoulders to his room. The door was open and he still wore his robe. 

“This doesn't work…” she said and her voice broke from the tears that now pushed out from her eyes. Vincent looked up at her and gave her an uncomfortable look. He saw the problem too but also her tears. To wear a backless dress demanded another thing, being braless and it was obvious her chest was too big to look good like that. She didn't have the figure of a french model and probably didn't look like the kind of woman Vincent was around. He dragged his hands over his hips and cleared his throat. Would he say something mean? 

“Okay…” he said and nodded a little. 

“You're great at fashion and so on but I don't think you get a woman's anatomy. I have boobs, hips and ass. And I can't walk in heels because I've never been to this sort of event. I go to dive bars and get shit faced. I wear Doc Martens or converse not stilettos.” The tears streamed down her cheeks and messed up her makeup. 

Vincent continued to nod. 

“We will fix it, okay?” 

“How?” She dried her tears and looked at him defeated. 

“I will make a call. What's your dress size?”

She fixed her makeup again while Vincent called someone, she listened to his elegant french through the open bedroom door but didn't believe he would fix it. She was too fat for a french gala. Too trashy to go beside him. 

A half hour later someone knocked on the door and Vincent let them in. Ines was curious how he would solve it. Maybe he had found a skinnier American that could pretend to be her? She walked out to him and saw him stand with an ivory colored tule dream. It looked like something for a swan princess. 

“With a ballet style you can wear your flats… And it doesn't have a bare back…” he said but sounded embarrassed. He looked around in the room like he was uncomfortable with being nice. 

Ines looked at the pretty dress and the man dressed in an elegant dress suit. He looked like perfection in his white bow tie and pushed back hair. Ines laughed in joy and gratitude. 

“Oh my god Vincent…” she said and walked up to him and touched the dress. 

“You're really the greatest stylist.” She giggled and touched his hand affectionately and looked down at her hand with big eyes.

“Just change now,” he said and tried to sound cold while giving her the dress. 

Ines looked at him with a small smile and thought to herself that he was a thoughtful man behind that diamond adorned armor. 

She changed in her room and looked at herself in the mirror. A swan princess. She giggled and felt her eyes well up with tears again. Never had she believed she could look like that. She pulled on the light pink ballet flats and put on a pearl adorned hair clip and the diamond necklace and bracelet she got from Vincent. He had made her into a princess. Her fairy god… Art seller? 

She felt a bit nervous to walk out to Vincent. Maybe he wouldn't like it but somewhere inside her she knew he would. She didn't know where the feeling came from. 

On her tippy toes she walked out to him with a nervous smile. He stood leaned against one of the dining chairs and looked up at her carefully. He also looked a bit nervous but it transformed quickly into a small smirk.

“Bonsoir belle ballerine,” he said and gave her a liking nod. Ines giggled, it didn't matter what he said because his pleased expression said it all. 

“Should we start with a glass of champagne at the hotel bar?” He said and reached his hand out for her. Ines smiled at him with warming cheeks and took his hand. 

“Merci,” she said with a giggle because it was the only French she knew. 

× 

[brent-toks26]

The Weight of Choices

Sanny Brent M. Tawali

Dusty and thick cobwebs hanging at every corner and ceiling of the old abandoned house. It's been a couple decade since an ambitious young man stepped out from it. This grown man went back to where his dreams were motivatedly carved. Roaming around, he saw the old photo albums where his memories were documented. He was finally home with a clone of himself.

It was five o'clock in the morning, Zenny was up to for some coffee. She has an exceptional taste in cooking. While waiting for her husband to come home, he prepared a scrumptious breakfast. The kids will be up soon, and she'll have to get them ready again for school. As a mother of two sons, it keeps her busy in the morning. After school, she fetch them again, an everyday cycle of her life. Edward, her husband, works in a big company at night-shift and it was his sleep time during the day.

They were a lovely couple, contented living a simple life and spend their family time at the gulf on Sundays. One time when the kids were having fun, Zenny noticed her husband's hands shaking in sweat, not knowing he has something heavy to speak out. It was an unpleasant news as the mining company started terminating workers because of the sudden bankrupt and low-grade mineral extracts.

Edward was bothered, what if he could be one of the workers terminated. "What about their studies?" he asked worrily.

His wife responded with a hug and tapped his back, "We can do this". They then decided to take the kids to his hometown in the province. There, at least, the expenses are a lot cheaper than in the city.

Unbothered were the kids, Gavyn, the elder ones was of so much excitement as he can finally spend more time with his grandparents in the province. He loves listening to the stories of Lolo Berto and the eat with the especial dishes of Lola Jovita.

Leaving their life in the city, they went to the province where life was a lot peaceful. However, living there also means working for food, for everything. Julius, the younger brother used to live where everything was handed to him on silver platter. Edward had mixed emotions thinking of his family knowing the fact he might be send off from work anytime. Realizing his mistake that he spent all his money providing the kids as what he always dreamed of, to give his children the ease of life he never experienced growing. He then started saving for contingency. Distant from his family, he endured those heavy times of working to provide for his family. Zenny on the other hand was a good cook and started doing business from making deserts, meryenda, and viands where she sell at the school canteen. It was a hard time for them as couples, being rattled by life. They wanted their kids to finish their studies for their future.

The two siblings had a close bond where one follows anywhere the other goes. Going to school, Gavyn has more advanced mental stability than his brother. He excelled in academics and sports. At a young age, Gavyn was pressured by the expectations of becoming a succesful individual because of his achievements. He was viewed as an intelligent, and responsible child growing up. This broke the brotherly bonding of the two where Julius was often compared to his brother because he was a lot slower, sickly, and avoids doing work.

"Why can't you be like your brother?", said his Aunt Glory. Those were the constant words he often hear at a very young age, even coming from their neighbors.

Gavyn didn't want it happening so he always defends his brother. However, Julius thought of it negatively, then isolated his self and preferred hanging out with his friends. "When can they se me as part of this family?", he uttered as he walk away.

"Pssttt", Zenny called his sons. A sound the two siblings fear of hearing from their mother.

Strict, a single word which literally defines Zenny. A mother of old-fashioned values and ways of disciplining. Gavyn experienced once being punished because of stealing coins from his mother's purse. Angrily, his mother spread the beans on the floor and whipped the poor little boy as he knelt down on the beans with books weighing his wide open arms.

Zenny can hear his agony while pitiful crying "I'm sorry mama, I won't do it again". But for her, one word is enough. A harsh discipline teaching that a small bad act when not corrected could result even worse.

Edward on the other hand was more calm and prefer a heart-to-heart talk in addressing mistakes or unwanted behaviors. He do it in a way that none of the siblings were being tolerated or taken sides. He is more of giving advice and let them realize what they have done.

After several years of staying in the province, a man was seen from afar with heavy baggages. The two siblings rushed to hug their father with wide smiles on their faces.

Julius impatiently asked, "Did you buy some chocolates papa?".

Gavyn helped his father carry his loads. Edward was relieved seing his sons, pretentious of his heavy heart after being send off from work. His wife knowing the situation wrapped her arms tightly around him.

The following day, Edward was out early to visit the field where they used to farm. Lolo Berto was delighted his son was home to offer him a hand in the field. He is adding up ages and ached by his knee because of an injury he neglected in his younger years. Lola Jovita while still strong spends most of her time to her grandchildren. She sends the siblings to school and patiently waits until the classes are done and fetch them home.

Gavyn, became serious of his studies as an appreciation to his parent's hardships. Being the eldest son, he carried the weight on his shoulders. Intrinsically motivating his self, he ignored the numerous criticisms. He etched in his mind his father's emotional words.

"You have seen how we lived my son and I'm proud of you. You're better than me, than what I ever expected. Go live your life", Edward spoke deeply as he prepare his son's belongings for his study.

Miles away from his family, Gavyn did all the ways he can to ease the burden of his parents in his studies. He thought studying would be just books and pen, but mistakenly, he realized it's not about the subjects that make's it hard. It's actually learning to recognize the reality of life in it. Above all his achievements, he was mute until he met a girl who opened an ear to his struggles.

He met this girl, a cousin of his buddy in the air force whom he was blinded by her genuine beauty. A conservative woman of dignity, he felt attachment to Krystyn. They became doves who flew the same to a higher ground untill all is well.

In the garden where the flowers decorated the isle, everything felt unimaginable. At last Gavyn freezed out the trash conversations in his head. He vowed his love to the woman who stayed throughout the course of finding his self, Krystyn.

"Let us welcome our guest speaker for today's event", the master of ceremony announced. Claps and cheers filled the atmosphere. With the three star patch on the shoulder of his uniform, he stood in front confidently and humbled the expectators with his experience in life.

Remembering some of these events in his life, Gavyn shakingly impeding his emotions, let his eyes shed tears. He never thought of going this far thinking how he struggled taking all the steps in his journey.

With utmost gratitude to his parents he dedicated all his work to them. Sharing his blessings, he founded a house for the aged people. Done with all his hardwork, this project is a reminds him of his parents.

At some point, Gavyn was regretful how he lived his life.

"I owe you my life but forgive me when you felt left behind. I was never busy all along, I just didn't understand how I was destined to this", he sobs blaming himself while talking to his parents.

His life in the air force was never easy. Holding on to his father's dream, he had the most critical decision in his life. To pursue his father's dream and his future, or leave all behind and dig him out six feet below.

Gavyn endured all the guilt and emotional turmoil. While sharing this story to his son, he hugged his wife and son and spoke, "No matter how life put us through, Family first".

THE END.

[exy-shmexy]

high school au rivals to lovers kevaaron

kevin getting his science test back with a 98 so he smugly turns around to shove it in aaron’s face. aaron raises an eyebrow, lifts up his paper to show to bright 99 with a shit-eating grin (andrew got 100 but will never show it to anyone).

their next class is a history presentation, afterwards the teacher discusses grades (my high school did that idk if yours did too but it was the WORST anyway) kevin gets a full score.

english class arrives and it is set to be a debate, cue the two having an argument-contest of symbolism and meaning of a certain poem they had to study.

one day kevin shows up to the library to find all the seats taken except the one next to aaron. he grumpily considers his options but when aaron looks up from his textbook he turns on his heels and tells himself it’s not too cold to study outside yet.

then they are assigned a presentation for their spanish class. neither of them speaks it very well (they would have preferred being with the weird kid andrew always hangs out with) but they have no choice so kevin tells aaron to come at his place during the weekend to work on it.

it’s a bit of a disaster because they keep bickering but then eventually manage to get an outline for it after way too much time wasted deciding who should work on what. aaron brought his old laptop so they both start working on their part in silence, neither happy to be in the other’s presence but at least working is familiar and comfortable, so much so that they don’t see time pass. kevin’s step-mom comes home and she tells aaron he should stay for dinner with them. he refuses but she insists because “listen i got too much food, what’s one more mouth to feed”.

(little does she know aaron hasn’t eaten anything since the previous evening. his mom is going to be mad if he doesn’t come home but kevin’s step-mom, abby, is very sweet and besides kevin looks constipated at the prospect of him staying so he ends up accepting)

aaron helps get the table ready while kevin chops veggies with way too much force, abby makes small talks but it’s alright, at least aaron doesn’t have to think about the screaming that will be waiting for him at home.

just as dinner is ready, the high school coach, who is also kevin’s father, arrives and stomps in all grumpily because some kids tripped each other on the tracks so he had to take them to the hospital for a sprained wrist and a sprained ankle. coach wymack looks at aaron then at kevin and then huffs. “‘bout time you brought a friend here” “he’s not my friend” “whatever you say kevin”. dinner is pleasant and aaron doesn’t remember the last time his stomach felt so full, kevin’s parents keep asking him questions and he finds it surprisingly easy to talk to them, especially because kevin is silently fuming opposite him.

aaron goes home with a tupperware full of food but as soon as tilda sees him she slaps him in the face because “where the fuck were you”. aaron drops the tupperware in surprise and apologizes profusely, when tilda is done with him he runs to his bedroom and doesn’t get out until the next day. kevin is the first person he sees in class, if he notices the still red mark on his cheek or the stiff way aaron holds himself, he doesn’t comment on it. aaron sits next to him to review their notes and kevin says “you’ll have to bring the tupperware back”

aaron “i’ll bring it tomorrow”

kevin “abby gave me these for you” kevin gives him a small bag of wrapped cookies.

aaron “why?”

kevin “because she has the audacity to like you”

they get an a for their presentation and aaron is invited for dinner again the following friday, kevin starts warming up to aaron even tho aaron keeps his distance until one day it’s just the two of them left in the locker room and oh fuck kevin is shirtless and oh fuck abs.

aaron realizes something about himself in that moment while kevin seems completely unbothered, but then a smirk stretches the corner of his mouth and oh fuck aaron is standing too close. kevin tilts his chin up with one finger and kisses him right there

[clareguilty]

The Naked Thing

Hello! I was dying without air conditioning a few weeks ago and decided to make it Mando Smut Mandalorian/f!reader Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~2900

The Crest falls out of hyperspace too soon, and you go flying. Curling around Grogu in your arms, you twist in midair so that your back hits the console to avoid crushing him. A lever digs into your spine, and you curse loudly. That’s going to bruise. Oh well. What’s another?

“What the kriff, Mando?” you snarl. Grogu seems unbothered, blinking at you and probably learning way too many swear words for a child of his size.

Mando pulls himself off the control grid with a pained groan, helmet swiveling as he takes in the damage.

“The good news,” he begins after a moment, “is that we lost them.”

That is good news, you agree. You were lucky that the army of bounty hunters and ex-imps hadn’t kept track of you. If you had shaken them off your trail, then that would earn you a head start to a safer system.

“The bad news is that they shot out our hyperdrive.”

“Dank Farrik,” you curse again, then glance at Grogu. Maybe you should watch your mouth more?

“...And our temperature regulator and our heat shields.”

You decide that it is an appropriate time for as much foul language as you please.

“What does that mean?” you ask. You hadn’t grown up around ships -- spent the last dozen years on the same dead-end planet until Mando picked you up. The most you were good for was turning a knob or flipping a switch here and there. Usually you just kept an eye on Grogu while Mando did all the piloting and bounty hunting and whatnot.

“We’ll have to travel sublight, but we can’t land planet side because without the heat shields any atmosphere worth a damn would burn us up. Our only option is a New Republic Outpost. We’ll be able to land there, and we’ll be safe while they repair the Crest. I’ll chart us a course and let you know how long it should be.”

“You know,” you snap, “we wouldn’t be in this mess if you weren’t so scared of droids. If we had an astromech on board, then we could get the hyperdrive repaired without having to crawl our asses through deep space in the hopes that whoever picks us up doesn’t want us dead.”

Mando doesn’t say anything. You don’t know if your words meant anything at all to him because you can’t see shit behind his helmet. Huffing, you take Grogu down to the hold. Not long after, the engines fire up again.

It takes a few minutes to set in, but its quick enough to be noticeable. The ship is getting hotter. Like… unbearably warm.

You fill a canteen with water and make sure that you and Grogu are both hydrated. After a little bit of digging, you manage to find a portable air circulator. You and Grogu sit directly in front of the current, doing your best to keep cool.

Mando comes down after a little while, he cocks his helmet when he sees you.

“It’s hot,” you whine.

“The temperature regulator is shot too. We don’t have a way too cool the ship down or shield the heat of the engines.”

You sigh. “How long until we can get repairs?”

“34 hours. Will the kid be okay for that long?”

Grogu hasn’t outwardly complained about the heat, mostly just sitting in front of the circulator with his eyes closed and ears flapping, but you’ve been worried as well. “He’s kind of… amphibious,” you frown. “I’ll get him a basin of water to sit in and put him in the fresher with the circulator. That should keep him cooled off.”

Mando nods. “Thank you. Will you be okay?”

You shrug. There’s not much you can do. As long as you stay hydrated then you should be able to last 34 hours.

“Thank you,” he says again.

“For what?” All you’ve done is curse at him and berate him for not having an astromech droid.

“For looking out for him back there. You saved all of us with that droid popper. And the move with the cannon was impressive.”

You aren’t expecting genuine praise from Mando. It always felt as though you were dead weight to him. Through all the planets you’ve been on -- and been chased off of -- you’ve always felt useless.You can’t fly, you’re not the best shot, you can barely take care of his kid. It means a lot that he doesn’t actually hate you. 

“I’m starting to get the hang of this,” you grin. You had never considered yourself a hero or adventurer, but you had commandeered a cannon and shot down three imperial fighters.

“I’ll be up in the cockpit if you need anything. Just knock.” And he’s gone.

‘Knock’ means that Mando is probably going to take his helmet and armor off, which means you also get a few hours of total privacy. You set Grogu up in the fresher with a basin of water and the circulator -- though it pains you to give up the weak, artificial breeze.

It’s only gotten hotter, and your already filthy clothes are starting to became unbearable. You had gotten splashed with gore and grime and who knows what in your escape, and it wasn’t pairing well with the heat onboard.

Stripping out of your clothes, you sprawl naked on the metal floor. It’s dusty, but slightly cool, and you plaster as much of your skin to the durasteel as you can manage.

Time passes with you systematically rolling across the floor of the hold to try and keep from baking. It’s bearable only because you know there will be an end. As long as the ship keeps chugging along towards the space outpost, then you will be saved.

The hatch to the cockpit opens, and you leap to your feet. Mando clambers down, jumping when he sees you.

“You’re naked,” he raises his hands -- his bare hands -- and backs against the ladder.

“You’re naked.” you point.

“I have a helmet and pants on,” he says. But that’s all he has on. His chest and arms are bare, and it’s more skin than you’ve ever seen before on the man.

“I’ve never seen you out of your armor. That has got to be more scandalous than me being naked.”

You must have made a point, because Mando doesn’t respond. Instead, you both just kind of… stand there. You can’t tear your eyes away from his chest and from the angle his helmet is pointed it seems he’s having a similar issue.

“Did you, uh, need anything?” you finally manage to ask. Your mouth is dry, and you take another uncoordinated drink from the canteen, shivering as some of the water spills down your chest.

Mando coughs. “I just wanted to make sure the kid is okay.”

“Oh,” you turn to open the fresher door just a crack. You had checked on him just a few minutes ago, and he still seems fine. After a moment of pause, Mando comes up behind you and you can feel the heat of his skin against your back.

Grogu is asleep, curled up just in front of the circulator and the basin of water so that the cool air blows over him. The fresher is several degrees cooler than the rest of the ship, and while it feels amazing, you don’t want to let the heat in.

“I’m going to go back up now,” Mando says quickly, and then he’s gone through the hatch once again.

You resume your circuit of laying on the floor, but it feels like the ship is only getting hotter.

That’s when you take to banging on the hatch to the cockpit. “Mando, I’m going to kick your ass! You had better get us to that outpost or find a way too cool this ship down! I spent years on Tatooine, and this is the hottest I have ever been in my entire life!”

“I can cut the engines to stop generating any heat, but then we’ll just be coasting through empty space and we’ll never make it to the outpost.”

You huff. “At this point you should just freeze me in carbonite.”

Mando does not freeze you in carbonite, but you do eventually make it to the New Republic outpost. They give the three of you a small dorm and Mando arranges for the Razor Crest to be repaired. You don’t have any credits between you, so you wonder what he offers in exchange.

You toss your gear into the room and head out to get food for everyone. You always enjoy being in New Republic space. No one is out to murder you or imprison you. The officers are usually nicer. Everyone likes the Skywalkers.

A friendly droid loads you up with several plates of food, and you stop to check out the holonet broadcasts on your way back. Things in this corner of the galaxy are a little hectic -- something you just witnessed firsthand -- but its less gloomy than it used to be.

Mando is sitting on the lower bunk when you get back. He’s back in his full armor, but you can read his posture pretty well. Grogu is playing in the corner, levitating some rocks you had found for him a few planets back. You set the tray down, fully intending to take your portion and eat out in the hall or in one of the communal sitting rooms. Before you can even turn away, Mando has already grabbed a plate of food and tugged his helmet off.

“WOAH,” you raise your hands in front of your face, ducking your head before you can see too much. Curly hair. Tan skin. Moustache. If there is one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Mando doesn’t let anyone see him without his helmet. It’s a cultural thing, and you respect that. “What is with you being naked today?”

Your eyes are open, but very pointedly looking at a wall nowhere near him. He shifts for a moment, and you wait for some kind of explanation.

“Look,” he finally begins, “we’ve been through a lot together at this point. I’ve traveled with you longer than anyone since I was a foundling with the watch. You’ve saved my life as well as Grogu’s many times, and we just survived one hell of a fight. Not to mention, I saw, um, all of you today. I figure it’s only fair.”

You’re touched. It’s an honor that Mando trusts you enough to remove his helmet. For as long as you have been travelling together, you’ve assumed that you care for him far more than he cares for you. “You don’t have to,” you say. “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“I trust you,” he repeats.

You turn to face him. His eyes are so soft. Tired and kind and the warmest brown. He stares at you, taking you in for the first time with his own eyes and not the visor in his helmet. It’s unreasonably intimate considering he was staring at you naked with the helmet on just 16 hours before.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of cute?” you laugh and look away, smoothing your hands over your pants. There’s food in front of you, and you use that as a welcome distraction.

“I’ve never trusted anyone enough before now to see me.”

How can he just say things like that? You try to drown the rapid beating of your heart behind some kind of bitter vegetable.

Mando begins to eat as well, slowly and unsurely. He picks at a few different dishes before finally speaking again. “You’ve, uh- I mean… you’re beautiful as well.”

You laugh loudly at that. It’s so shy. This man had seen you overheated and completely naked lying on the floor of his ship. You roll your eyes and shoot him a wink. “Something you like in particular?”

Mando chokes, coughing for a minute before chugging down half a glass of green jelly juice. He finally regains his composure, but his voice is rough when he speaks again. “I’d say the best view was from behind.”

It’s the last thing you expect from him. He’s so shy and reserved and has always backed down from your defensive teasing. It’s a moment before you can pull yourself together. Still, you aren’t sure what to say. Instead, you cram some shredded raw crustacean in your mouth and hope you aren’t too flushed.

Mando offers to take the trays back. The dorm bathroom has a shower with running water and you intend to take full advantage. Grogu rolls a rock at your feet as you head into the bathroom, and you lightly kick it back to him. “Are you tired of putting up with us yet? You’ve been a baby longer than I’ve been alive. I bet we seem like idiots to you.”

Grogu, predictably, says nothing. He makes a raspberry noise with his lips and plops down into a sit.

The shower is one of the greatest gifts you’ve ever enjoyed in life. Hot water, high pressure, steam and soap. You take your time washing up and letting the jets work out all of the kinks in your muscles.

When you slide the stall door aside, Mando is standing at the sink. Helmetless. Shirtless.

He jumps slightly, staring at the floor as you step out of the shower. 

“We have got to stop doing this naked thing,” you say. It doesn’t actually bother you. You like that Mando trusts you, and you’ve never been shy about being naked around others, but he’s too attractive and it drives you nuts.

“I rather enjoy it,” he manages to pull his gaze from the floor to shoot you a wink. Your pulse speeds up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mando,” you step forward. You’re still steaming from the shower and dripping wet. He’s never been this cheeky before, and you kind of enjoy it.

His gaze darkens, eyebrows rasing. He reaches out to grab your waist, pulling you in and pinning you against the sink. You gasp at the feeling of his skin on yours, leaning back as he crowds you against the basin.

“Grogu is napping,” he whispers.

“I think the shower will fit both of us,” you breathe.

He’s already working at the buckle of his pants, toeing out of his boots. You drag him back into the shower with you. The jets hit his back, and he melts a little. You wrap your hand around his cock, and he looks like he may collapse. His eyes flutter shut, one of his hands slamming against the wall by your head.

You lean in to brush your lips over his skin as you stroke his cock. You’d never even seen this man’s face before today, and now you’re kissing your way over his jaw and down his neck. His other hand grabs your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling you closer so your hips brush his.

Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, and he shudders. It happens so fast, you didn’t know he had spun you around until your cheek is against the shower wall. His hands are glue to your hips, digging into your ass and pulling you to him so he can grind his cock against your slick skin.

“Please,” you whine. You haven’t had sex with anyone since you began travelling with Mando, and opportunities to get yourself off come few and far between with three of you on the Crest. You’re desperately horny, and you’ve wanted to fuck this man since you found him in that godforsaken desert.

He lines himself up and drives his hips forward, sinking into you with one solid thrust. You bite your forearm to muffle your moans, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch.

“You good?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. 

“Move,” you say, demanding but desperate.

It takes a moment to find leverage in the tiny -- smaller than you first assumed -- shower stall, but Mando begins to fuck you at a steady pace. You reach down to rub your clit, clenching around him. You’re going to finish quicker than you’re used to -- probably because you’ve been turned on since you saw Mando shirtless on the crest.

From the way Mando’s hips twitch and his rhythm falters, you guess that he’s close to coming as well.

His hands are everywhere. Your hips, your ass, trailing over your stomach and and reaching up to squeeze your breasts. His fingers brush your throat and you nearly come from the touch alone. He feels the way you tighten around his cock and places a hand on your neck, squeezing your jaw between his thumb and forefinger.

You come so hard your knees give out and your vision goes white. Mando keeps you from collapsing in a bruised heap on the shower floor by simply continuing to fuck you until he comes as well.

It’s not a lot of space, so you’re slumped together under the spray of the water. You manage to wipe yourself clean in a few swipes and stagger back out so Mando can actually wash up. He’s much quicker than you were, and he’s out of the shower by the time you’ve finished rubbing scented moisturizer over your skin. The New Republic sure knew how to treat their guests.

“I think we should definitely keep doing the naked thing,” he grins.

[gimletagain]

My theory is that Meghan's con is long-con (which we all know). The Bower book only tells about part-1 ie. How Meghan got Harry. How Meghan was before Harry (which doesn't seem to be much different from her after Harry). And how Meghan was setting up the groundwork for money from her connection with Harry.

IRL, we are currently seeing Part-2 of her con, ie, Undermining Harry and making sure he has nothing left from his previous life that could ever pose as a life-raft to him, should he ever decide to bolt.

If you think logically, once the excerpts were out anyone who is being or criticised as much as Meghan is, would retaliate, be upset. But she looks like the cat that ate the canary! That shit-eating grin is as fake as fake can be. While Harry looks like a walking corpse. Their UN appearance is giving me the same vibes as that royal engagement where she wore the blue sequin gown. He looked hollow, she looked amazing and confident, like she had a secret. It was also the first time they were publicly booed and it was caught on camera. She later weaponizing that appearance to say it was that day she threatened to commit sui**** and told him exactly how she was going to do it.

It's my opinion that she she hinted it was that particular day because she wanted the PUBLIC to feel bad for treating her so badly. At the same time something was clearly going on with Harry, he looked vexed. Similarly, at UN on Monday he looked completely zoned out his mind, like someone on the verge of a panic attack.

This woman is unbothered about what people think of her, because the one's she is currently profiting off of are Harry and whoever is organizing these events for her. She went to NYC fully prepared -wardrobe, makeup, hair, entaurage, paps, bermuda merching, gloria, Harry's speech everything was planned to show her in a good light and that's all that she cares about yright now.

Anyone truly on damage control mode, and with the top media guys working for her would have shown humility, got the kids along, been papped doing something with her kids and other girlfriends. Maybe arranged a cute, pep-talk moment to be video/photographed just after the speech. There's something so weird going on between this couple and it looks like both of them are just waiting for the right moment to throw the other under the bus.

Thank you so much for this thoughtful ask.

I do think MM is in it for power and money. But I don’t even know if it’s a con to her so much as it is just in her making as a person. Is a snake conning because it hides in holes and waits to bite? Call it karmic, or genetic, or the way she was raised, but she has a much higher threshold for causing others pain and upheaving standard conventions of behavior to pursue her own self interest. Which is the mistake people keep making around her: they size her up the way you would an average, empathetic person. An average person wouldn’t cause drama during a major family crisis when the patriarch is dying. An average person wouldn’t dare spit in the face of a powerful and wealthy institution giving her a leg up. When people ask why the RF didn’t put her in her place: well, they’re used to nothing but deference. When they appoint people with awards and pins and even signed letters, they gasp and literally bow by the conventions of behavior. They were giving this nobody the ultimate gift of welcoming them into their family, and the unimaginable privileges that come with it. They expected nothing less than her eternal gratitude, which is what 99.9999% of the world would have given them.

That is also why we are observing her somewhat odd reaction to this damning book, her clear failures to deliver for Netflix and Spotify, and her desperate attempts to stay in the press. We can’t anticipate how she’ll respond in rational terms because she isn’t your average person.

I do think she’s done a LOT of work to bury the press on the book as much as possible in the US. I’ve never, EVER encountered a UK publication that has so many barriers to get in the US. The fact that it’s not even searchable on US Amazon is quite damning. Meanwhile even my Apple News Alerts are filled with dumb photos of her going to a restaurant where I had my birthday 10 years ago in full Kate cosplay. Her strategy is just to completely ignore rather than rebut, which would have people discussing the allegations. It sounds like she’s listening to her PR people.

[plush-rabbit]

Uncertainty in the Household

Picture Perfect Series

TW: talk and action for miscarriage, slight manipulation

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: I wanted to explore the reader and Danny’s relationship in this chapter, so i hope you like it, first part is p rough with the whole miscarriage, so you're free to skip to after the second - if you're uncomfy with that

-

Tears fall into your palms as your fingertips dig into your scalp, your belly- while still early in the pregnancy, still feels as if it’s protruding, and you sit on the shared bed, a faint smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingers in the air and you’re alone. For now, at least. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were Danny who was the father. You want to kid yourself, to tell such lies that he could be the father, that sleeping with- that being forced into whatever sick game Ghostface has with you- that he didn’t impregnate you. You blame yourself. You should have taken the morning after pill, you should have purged yourself of everything and anything to make sure that you didn’t let yourself have his child. Your stomach twists and turns, a thin veil of acid on your tongue and you wonder how to explain this to Danny. If you even should. It’s still early, maybe you could get rid of the child before anyone has to know. Your eyes widen and you sit up, your eyes scanning the room and you let out a breath, nodding to yourself.

You can get rid of the child. No one knows. You made sure to throw away the pregnancy tests in a dumpster at a park and rip the receipts before anyone could ever see. No one has to know.

Loneliness, while always being your aggressor, has finally worked in your favor. You rush to put on your clothes, ignoring the burning desire to cry, your purse in your hand, you walk to the front door, pausing to leave a note to your partner.

“Went out, I’ll bring dinner.” Something short and simple. Marked with a little heart at the end that makes you feel a bit sick, like it’s something like a lie that you’re telling him. You place the pen down and grab the car keys, rushing down the steps. Each step down the stairs is something that feels heavy, chains around our ankle and the child- no, you can’t call it that. You know you’ll get attached. You’ve heard about the tactics that are used to pressure vulnerable people into keeping their unborn children, and you won’t be one of those. You can’t. Not now and you’re sure not ever. The car purrs to life, the steering wheel a bit too hot from being under the sun and you wait, letting the cool air fan against your already hot body and you reverse out of the parking lot.

-

You return with tuna, alcohol, fenugreek, a peppermint and aloe vera plant, a thin bag that is filled with peaches, different varieties of caffeine that you can already taste, and pineapple. Your hands ache, the base of your fingers sore from the heaviness of the bags that you stubbornly carried up to the apartment. You were not going to make multiple trips, that much was certain about your day. You hear his voice before you see him, a greeting cut off as he realizes just how much you’re carrying. Danny’s eyes widen, and he rushes off the couch, taking bags away and your palms are redden from the indents of the bags.

“Are we having a feast?” His hands are inside a bag and he pulls out wrapped fish, and he stops, turning to you, a tight smile on his lips that you don’t recognize. “I didn’t know you liked fish.” He places it down and watches as you carefully place a clinking bag down onto the table. “Alcohol too, huh? What-” he turns to you, a nervous chuckle filling the space of his words- “Did I forget a special date?”

You shake your head no, already biting into an unwashed peach, trying to ignore how many hands and bacteria have touched the fruit before you. “Just-” you speak with a full mouth and turn your head, covering your mouth with your hand and taking another bite. You swallow and take a gulp of air. “I was just craving fish is all. Why? Do you not like fish?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that I- I just wanted soup, and-” your smile falls and he shakes his head. “I can get soup tomorrow. How long until the fish is down?”

“Actually-” you reach into another bag and pull out two containers- “I was able to buy some sushi on the way home.” You pull out a pack and slide the container to him. You spare him a glance as he stares at the sushi with an odd, angry feeling. “Oh, I’m uh, I have tomorrow off, by the way.” You meet his eyes for a minute and he gives you a nod, allowing you to continue.

“You’ve been throwing up lately,” he adds, taking a bite from his plate. Your heart sinks and you try to mask your emotions, turning around to grab a bottle opener from one the drawers. “I’ve been worried, you know. Maybe-” the chair squeaks and when you turn, he’s sitting down, an unopened beer beside his plate- “I should take tomorrow off too and we can go to the doctor. Just to see if you don’t have the flu or-” he tilts his head, his lips twitching- “if it isn’t anything else.”

A part of you wants to tell him your fear. You don’t want to be pregnant, and you hope that if you manifest it enough, it’ll be true. But you also fear that he wants a family and you’ll be the one ruining it for him. Maybe you aren’t even pregnant. Maybe it’s just needless worry over a few faulty exams, but you can’t risk it. Not now. Not if it has the chance to be someone other than Danny’s.

With a bottle opener in hand, you walk towards Danny, his eyes on you the entire time. You place the bottle opener beside his drink, a hand on his shoulder and the other brushing back his hair, combing it to the side. His hands leave his meal and rest against your hips, his gaze up at you and there’s a hint of a smile at his lips, and you lean down, pressing your lips over his scar that adorns his forehead.

“We have bills to pay Dan,” you mutter, “at least one of us should be responsible.” You close your eyes tightly to avoid tears spilling over, the hand on his shoulder tightening and when you pull away, he looks unbothered for a moment before giving you a forced smile. “Let’s eat, okay? You can tell me about your day.”

-

All it takes is one doctor appointment to confirm that you are not pregnant. It was just a scare. And as if life and everything else in control of you wanted to laugh, you bled through your underwear on the ride home. The vomiting in the morning was your body simply pretending to have the signs, your mind so strong that it created a falsehood of pregnancy, just because you were so scared and sure of it.

Life is odd for the moment. You tried so hard to get rid of the unwanted child and they were never there to begin with. You had to go through with the nervousness that consumed you. The call to the doctor, the waiting, the glances that Danny gave you as if he knew something. You wonder if he did know. He isn’t dumb, a bit dense when it comes to your feelings, but he’s smart in a way that matters. You hope that he doesn’t know, for both your sake and his. The little scare will be something that you take to your grave, hoping that it’ll remain just that.

The fan is turned on with a simple swipe of your hand against the light switch, the room filling with white noise. You sit on his couch, your body stiff as if it were the first time that you had visited his home. You still remember how it was. Dirty. You hadn’t expected that from him. There was trash all over, a sort of musty smell and an empty fridge. He hadn’t seemed embarrassed, but rather mildly inconvenienced even though he was the one to invite you over. However, now the place is as clean as it can be, the musty smell now replaced by a slight twinge of alcohol and tobacco, but with an overlapping floral scent from one of your candles. You can’t help but wonder if he minds that you added bits and pieces of yourself into his home. He calls it your home too, almost too eager to make sure that you know that you belong here, but even so, it doesn't feel like your home. It’s too empty, too devoid of your touch. You still feel as if you’re a guest, waiting and cleaning, tending to him when he needs it.

The simple fact of the matter is, this isn’t your home. Your stuff, your personal items that you decorated your home are still in boxes shoved under the bed. You miss your home. “I miss my home,” you say to yourself, tears pricking in your eyes. The rent was cheap, and the landlords were kind enough, but it’s gone. The place scooped up by some stranger and the thought has your stomach rising.

You’ve thought about leaving here. Perhaps not Danny, but maybe that would be a consequence of you leaving. It was too rushed. You were too scared of Ghostface invading your life again. You made a rash decision that the both of you now have to pay for. He lost his space, his privacy and you can tell he holds some resentment, the way he slams the doors close, how he locks the rooms and won’t speak to you until he needs something, until he’s pressuring you to kiss him with a half-hearted apology on his tongue.

You glance at the coffee table, old and cracked, the paint on the wood chipped and revealing the unfurnished finish. The photo frame is cold, a slight layer of dust over it, concealing your nervous smile and Danny’s wide one. He isn't happy, but he’s smiling. You both only have a few pictures with each other. It isn’t much, and you’re surprised that the photographer wouldn’t want more, but it can’t be helped.

The photo is placed back on the table, and you lay down on the sofa, grabbing at the throw blanket that you added. Your arms act as a pillow underneath your weary head, and you stare at the photo, training over how his arms are wrapped tight round you and how close that he holds you.

-

Daniel walks into his shared apartment with you, and he immediately spots your shoes in a different position than when he left. He frowns, walking further into the apartment, his eyes scan the room, his eyes landing on a crumpled bag of fast food on the table, the drink creating a water ring on the table. It isn’t like you to be so careless.

The drink rattles in his hand, nothing but cold liquid is inside the container. His bag is heavy as he leans it against the wall on the floor, and he finally finds you. You’re asleep on the couch, your body curled with the decorative throw blanket covering your body as the fan spins above.

He lowers himself to watch you, your soft breaths and the way your face is relaxed. You’re asleep and it brings him back to a time where you were under him, where night concealed him and he was able to hover above you. It’s much different now, you’re still scared but he’s able to kiss you, to have you rake your nails down his back and hold his hand as if it’s the only thing to keep you sane.

A calloused hand cups your cheek, your skin soft and blemished with faded scars that he’s studied meticulously night after night. You wake up with his fingers tracing over your face and he doesn’t make a sound, everything about him is stoic and he wonders how you are seeing this situation in your eyes. Are you scared? Do you know? Are you pregnant? What are you thinking of him at this very moment? You blink slowly at him and he’s reminded of a cat, watching and tired, and there’s a burning desire in him that wonders what you would do if he strangled you right now. Slowly, his hand lowers, his knuckles brushing over your cheekbones and down your jawline, touching against your pulse on your neck and he feels it quicken. Your eyes never leave his and he doesn’t look away. He’s sure that he could convince you that it was a joke or that maybe it was just a dream that you had. It’s been a while since you had such a vivid dream.

Your hand creeps from under the blanket and you hold the back of his hand, moving it back to your face, letting your lips press against the side of his palm in a soft kiss. “Danny,” you say in a sleepy voice as your eyes close. “How was work?” Your hand that holds his becomes limp and he watches as it slides down his hand, catching on the cuff of his sweater until it dangles off the couch.

It wasn’t smart of him to invite you to live with him. He was too reckless, too needy and desperate to have you beside him that he just wasn’t thinking. Even if you are naïve and easily pulled into a false sense of security, he can’t just explain his costume, he can’t explain the knife and all the careful cleaning kits that he has. This is all too risky.

But he can’t throw you out either. He’s become attached. You’re like a pet to him now, and as every disgruntled man says on television, don’t name something or else you’ll get attached. And now he’s fallen victim to it. It’s nice to have such an easy fuck around, to know that he cold do whatever he wanted to you and you’ll stay here with him, because the other option is much scarier. The corners of his lips pull upwards and he pulls his hand away, fixing the blanket above you and he rises from his knees with a sigh.

“Another dead body,” he says with a chipper voice that he can’t seem to hide. “All signs point to our residential serial killer.” It’s much too risky to have Ghostface visit you, you thought this as your safe haven, you have to know and think that it still is, but fuck does he miss your fear and how pitifully you cried. “You never told me why you hated him so much.” He has to bite the inside of his cheeks when your brows knit together. “I know he’s a killer, but did he ever hurt anyone close to you?”

Your eyes shift and you pull the blanket closer to you, the folds stretching across your frame and showing the curves of your body. “I’m not sure, I just-” you catch his eyes and he sees you visibly shrink away from him- “I’m scared of his mask.”

His mouth fills with saliva as he thinks about just how frightened you are. “What a shame, I was hoping to get into roleplay.” He could think about you know, how you'd hit and scream, how he could pretend that it was all part of the act and just hold you down, thinking about how you would put the pieces together and sob.

“That isn’t funny,” you say in a high-pitched voice, already cracking and sitting up to lessen the distance between the two of you. He rolls his eyes in response, standing up from his crouch with a hiss between his teeth. “People are dead,” you whine, as if he hasn’t been keeping up with the news with you. “He killed people.” You’re much more emotional than he thought, but you’ve held your mouth for so long, suffered in your silence and in your vulnerability; it's only natural you would have such strong emotions.

“Relax, it was a joke.” He takes off his jacket and tosses it beside you, watching as you pull yourself closer, further away from his jacket and only staring at it with confusion, as if he dared to have the audacity to throw something your way.

“A dumb one,” you say with with a pout, gripping tighter onto the blanket.

“I said relax,” Danny says in a stern voice, already done with the conversation. He may have been the one to start it but he was hoping for a more playful one, or rather one where you go along with him rather than try to fight him.

“Whatever,” you huff, and he sees you bundle the blanket in your arms, pushing yourself to the further end of the couch, looking at the wall with furrowed brows as your hand tries to discreetly cover your pout.

“Great,” he says sarcastically, turning around and walking towards the fridge. “Now, you’re angry,” he says loud enough for you to hear.

He rises back up with a bottle in his hand, toying with the cap, letting the ridges play against his fingertips. You don’t respond and he can feel his anger start to rise, something thick that lodges in his throat and makes it impossible to swallow. You aren’t answering him. Usually this would be a good sign, something that means he still has you wrapped around his finger, but it feels different. You aren’t moving from your spot, and you aren’t apologizing to him. He puts the bottle down, and runs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh.

“I think,” your voice is small, and he can barely hear it, but he can, “we both rushed into this… relationship. We should have taken it slow.” When you turn to him, he sees that your eyes are wet and you try to take steady breaths but to no avail. “I’m happy with you, but I don’t think we were thinking clearly when we chose to-” your eyes glance around and you look away from him- “to do this.”

His jaw twitches and he watches you, anger boiling inside of him, white-hot that makes it impossible to think and if he could, he'd grab the knife on the counter and stick it in your back but he can’t. Copper fills his mouth and he turns on his heel, the bedroom door slamming behind him, loud enough that he can hear your yelp and loud enough that it makes his ears ring. He wonders what the neighbors would think of it, but he can’t really bring himself to care. He’ll find an excuse, he always does.

His name is muted through the door and he rummages through the closet, pulling out a worn backpack and knocking a few clothes off the anger that he steps on. You enter the room just in time to witness him opening your drawer and throwing your things inside without a care.

“Danny?” Your voice sounds so fearful and it makes him stop for a second, and when he looks at you, your foot slides back out of the room. You’re terrified of him right now. “Danny, what are you doing?” You ask in a small voice, as you take a tentative step inside the room.

“You want to leave right?” He asks in a condescending tone, stepping closer to you with the back held tight in his hand. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll help you pack.”

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t you say that we rushed into this?” With every word he stalks towards you and he tosses the backpack onto the bed, only to miss and have it slide down, the contents inside spilling onto the floor. You look away from him and that only adds fuel to the fire that is tarnishing him from the inside. “Didn’t you?” He shouts, slapping his hand on the dresses, rattling your bottles of perfume and creams. He stares at you, his nostrils flared and jaw tight as he tries to keep a sense of composure. “Did you or did you not?” He asks, his voice eerily calm as he lets his nails drag along the wall. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m sorry, Dan,” you cry, your eyes spilling over with tears. “I wasn’t thinking. Please, I promise, it was just a long day and I’m sorry.”

You’re pathetic and not in the way that he wants you. He turns around and you grab his arm, latching yourself around his forearm. His name is on your tongue and before you have a chance to finish it, he turns around, his hand raised, and mouth pulled into an ugly snarl. You let go of him immediately and try to shield yourself, but he aims for the wall instead. His palm stings and you let out a choked sob.

He can’t think. Not with you here. Not with his emotions running so high. Not when his palm stings and there’s something dark brooding inside of him. He takes a deep breath and he forces himself to look at you. You stare up at him with worry creasing your features.

“It's okay,” his words are still tense, but your body lowers its defenses slightly, and he knows he’s on the right track. “I was angry.” He pulls his hand away from the wall and rubs it with his other, the palm of his hand a light shade of pink. “Why don’t we have dinner, huh?” He tries to give you a charming smile, but it falls flat. “We’ll talk about it over dinner. You know-” he reaches for your hand and grabs it in both of his- “like couple’s therapy or some shit. How does that sound?”

You break away from his gaze, glancing at the floor, and he knows your habits and tics by now. You’ll scan the floor, and look up at him and smile and nod. You play your part so well, and if he had to be honest with himself, he can’t lose that. Not yet. Not when you’re so dependent on him and him on you. He waits for our smile, to give you his own to show that he’s okay, that his anger has subsided for now, but you never give him that. Your mouth parts open and there are tears in your eyes, your hand shakes and grows clammy in his. He calls your name, but you don’t respond. Your breath is ragged, sharp inhales and shaky exhales, and he follows your gaze to the floor under the bed.

In the corner of his eye, he spots white and his nails dig into your skin. “Go get me a beer, I’ll-” he looks down at you and your eyes are stuck, glued to the floor where you can see the face that has haunted you- “I’ll clean up, okay? Just give me a moment.” It isn’t enough, you’re still looking where the mask lays, the bottom half of the face peeking from under your undergarments. Your mouth opens in a silent question and when you look back at him, you’re scanning his face. His body runs hot, his mouth going dry and he says the only thing that can come to mind. “I told you I wanted to try roleplay.”

“I thought you were,” you hesitate, and your tongue peeks to wet your lips, “I thought you were kidding,” you say breathlessly, your words slow as if you were hypnotized and the truth of the matter is, is that you are. You’re ruined by the mask that lies on the floor, the mouth of it the only thing that you can see. You peel away from him and have your back turned to him, your arms coming up to give yourself a hug. “I’ll go get you a beer,” you say in a daze, and when you turn back, your smile is weak, and you can’t look at him for long, your eyes magnetized to the mask on the floor.

He’s left alone in the room, his nails digging into the palm of his hands and red in his vision. The worst part of it all is that he can’t go out tonight. Not when you saw his mask. You’re naïve, and easily spooked, but even you could put two and two together. Even your suspicions would start to rise as you questioned why there was a murder the night he went out. Why Ghostface hasn’t come back for you. You’d suspect him and he can’t have that, not when you’re already so fearful of him.

[estrel]

Are You Happy? (Save Them Some Pie)

HAPPY 42ND BIRTHDAY, DEAN!! this is my gift to him for being my comfort person that i would hug on sight if given the chance 💗 love you dude, may you indulge in copious amounts of pie. ~ 1.5k words.

also dedicated to marlo ( @heller-jensen ), jace ( @thiscastielhasflown ) and dee ( @castee-yel ) thanks for bein real ones <3

[READ ON AO3]

The day had already started out weird enough.

Dean had woken up drenched in sweat, mind racing with the last lingering thoughts of a nightmare. A vamp nest that he and Sam had been hunting, Dean dying in the most ludicrous way possible, and driving Baby down a long road for an indiscriminate amount of time in a supposed heaven that his father (his father) also co-habited. Needless to say, the dream had come out of nowhere, but it was easy enough to forget once the smell of bacon made its way into his room.

Breakfast was hardy and quick, with enough coffee to fuel him for the rest of the day as he skimmed the internet for a possible case. He had the itch, but apparently, looking around at the three sleepy faces around him at the table, no one else did.

He packed up anyway, preparing for what would likely be an easy salt-n-burn; he’d be gone for only a few hours, tops. On his way out, Cas stops him before he can scale the stairs, arm gripping his shoulder tightly. There’s a memory, briefly—the same hand, the same shoulder. Blood.

Dean looks down at it. Back at Cas.

“…Yeah?”

After a moment, Cas lets go. He steps back half an inch as if he had forgotten himself. “Just…be careful.”

Dean nods, moving to leave again, taking the awkwardness as both a Cas thing and a morning thing and content to leave it at that. 

“And,” Cas says. Dean turns back.

“Come home.”

//

Dean picks up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Dean, hey! It’s, uh. It’s me. Krissy?”

Dean feels himself begin to smile, mindful of the road ahead of him. He balances his phone on his thigh while he drives.

“Hey, kid! Long time no call. How are you? Everything okay?”

The case had been as easy as Dean had suspected, but he had that familiar muscle ache and heaviness to his eyes that solo cases usually gave him.

Besides that, he was getting a little confused about all of the calls he’d been getting today. Before Krissy, it had been Garth, and before that, Claire and Jody and…

“Uh, yeah, dude, everything’s good. Um. How are you? How’s Sam and that angel of yours?”

Dean swallows to keep from choking, or potentially crashing the car.

“They’re good. Yeah…good.” Alive, he wants to say, back from the dead, probably in the DeanCave watching Scooby Doo without him. “Sorry, Krissy, ah,” he steps off the break to make a left, “I’m actually on my way home right now. Was there something I could help you with?”

There’s a pause, and Dean chances a glance at his phone to see if the call had dropped off. It hadn’t.

“Krissy?”

“I,” she huffs in what sounds like a laugh, “Nothing, Dean. You get home safe, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“And hey,” Krissy says, before he can say his goodbyes, “Uh, make sure you save some pie for everybody else.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow a bit, but he laughs. “I will. Take care of yourself.”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Ba-bye.”

//

Dean’s still mulling over the pie comment when he nearly falls down the stairs, squinting into the darkness of the Bunker.

“What the hell?” he asks, voice hoarse around the high note. “Guys?”

When there’s no immediate answer, Dean’s instincts kick in. He pulls out his gun and gently drops his bag, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust so he can try for the stairs.

Before he can, though, the lights kick back on. His gaze locks onto the scene below, and Dean slowly lowers his gun.

“Happy birthday!” Jack says, the sound of a party horn whining shortly after. Beside him, Cas pulls the string of a party popper, and he jerks as bits of confetti fall around him and into his hair.

Skeptically, Dean starts descending down the stairs.

“You…this…” he manages.

“It’s your birthday, dumbass,” Sam says, swooping forward to slap a party hat on Dean’s head as soon as he’s made the landing. He smiles.

“Oh…kay.” Around them, the Bunker looks pretty normal. The only difference is the array of pies on one of the library tables, next to what looks like home made rice krispie treats, and a couple of birthday-themed plates and napkins. That, and the confetti from Cas’ party popper that litters the floor. “Are you sure?”

Cas frowns at Sam. “Sam was certain. I can’t imagine he’d get the day wrong, but he has had quite severe brain trauma over the years. Perhaps…” Cas reaches out to Sam’s head, probably intent on searching his brain for said trauma, or for the date of Dean’s actual birthday. Sam swats his hand away.

“Hey, no. My trauma is fine. Dean,” Sam redirects his attention to him, “It’s today. Did you really forget?”

Dean shrugs, trying to piece the day together from the beginning. Shitty dream, good breakfast, the three of them weirdly insisting on staying at the Bunker…the calls. Save some pie for everybody else.

He laughs. “So that’s what she meant.”

“That’s what who meant?” Jack asks. He’s wearing a party hat, too, with ridiculous stripes of blue and pink and purple patterned onto it. It matches the one currently strapped to Dean’s own. He shakes his head.

“You’re telling me all of you knew? This whole time? And…and…” He looks around again, pointing vaguely at the table and the confetti. “You put this all together for me?”

Sam shoves his arm playfully. “Course we did. Now quit pouting and come eat some pie.”

//

Sam is fast asleep, sprawled out on the couch hours later with one of his hands brushing the floor. Dean thinks he spots drool on the pillow underneath him. 

Cas has been quiet next to Dean, at least since Jack had disappeared into the kitchen an hour ago and hadn’t come back, thoughtfully tracing the lip of his beer bottle with his finger. 

“Something on your mind?” Dean asks, because he wants to know.

Cas continues unbothered. Scooby Doo reruns play in the background. Dean almost repeats the question, but Cas eventually lifts his gaze to stare at him.

“Are you happy?” 

Dean presses his mouth shut. Licks his lips. He takes just as long to answer.

“You know what,” he smiles. “I think I am.”

Cas smiles back at him, soft and genuine. The skin around his eyes crinkling tells more than the gentle upturn of his mouth. 

Dean swallows, nervously putting his beer down and turning it a few times until his fingers are wet with the condensation. 

“What, uh. What about you?” He swallows again. “You happy?”

What he really wants to ask, though, is if they were good. If, after recent events, they were still the same. If Cas was still fine with “just being.”

He’s quiet again. Dean thinks he deserves that, and tries to pay attention to the TV, but the voice in his head is too loud. Cas has to tap his knee to get his attention again.

“Hm?”

“I was saying,” he moves his hand back, “that I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift.”

Dean stares at him. “What are you talking about?”

Cas looks confused, like he’s about to repeat what he just said. Dean stops him short with a wave of his hand. 

“Dude, you just got back from the dead, alright? That’s—that’s gift enough to last me a lifetime. Don’t worry about a gift.”

Cas frowns, and Dean rolls his eyes. It’s another few moments of tense silence, until Dean breaks it, his heart pounding in his chest.

“But, uh,” he says, “I might have a gift for you.”

“Dean, we don’t share a birthday. It’s not customary to gift me something, especially when I haven’t given you—“

“Cas,” he groans, officially putting his beer aside and facing him. Cas’ features are lit up with the colors of the TV. Dean reaches a hand up to pluck confetti from his hair, a green piece that he’d been eyeing all night. Hesitating, he lets his hand fall to Cas’ face, smoothing over his cheek and jaw. The TV paints his cheekbone purple. Dean brushes his thumb over it. “Just...shut up and let me do this.” 

Cas tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed in that way of his, and Dean thinks he looks perfect. When he dips forward and presses their lips together, it’s perfect, perfect, perfect. He’s warm, his face is burning, eyes almost watering when he pulls away.

Dean lets his forehead rest on Cas’, heartbeat still crazy. He closes his eyes. “We can have it, Cas. This. We can have this.”

Cas takes Dean’s face in his hands, lifts it a little to bring them face to face again, so that he’s looking into Dean’s eyes.

“I’d like that, Dean,” he says, and his eyes are wet, too. Happy, Dean thinks.

“Your gift to me?” Dean manages, smile wobbly. He’s teasing, trying to bring down the weight of this without getting rid of all of it. He likes this type of adrenaline rush, different from any hunt he’s been on. Better.

Cas smiles. “I think technically it was you that gifted me, but, yes. My gift to you, if you’ll take it.”

“Gladly,” Dean says.

Cas hums back, brushing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck. “Happy birthday, Dean.” He leaves a kiss on his forehead.

Happy. 

Dean thinks, for the first time, as he pulls more confetti from Cas’ hair, that it actually is. 

—

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[thefanficmonster]

What's It To You?

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: To some people, relationship labels aren’t important. To some they aren’t important only in theory. Well, Y/N finds out she falls in the later category, leading to a falling out with her boyfriend Corpse.

Requested by Anon. You’ll know who you are when you read the fic 😉 Thank you for the ‘angsty argument’ request. I hope I captured what you had in mind and I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy 🥰

The time is nearing 7PM and Corpse has barely eaten anything. I always keep track of his meals and time spent in front of a computer screen, making sure he doesn’t spend too much time exhausting his eyes or starving himself. He never notices he’s hungry until he takes a bite of something and his appetite grows in  matter of seconds. The real battle is to get him to take that first bite.

I get up from the couch, walking into the kitchen. I open the fridge, scanning its contents for any ideas that might pop into my head for dinner. When nothing comes to mind, I resort to my last option - asking him. There’s only a slight chance he’ll be of any help. He’ll most likely say he’s not hungry or that he’ll make himself something late. He never does. I’ve gotten used to him being a man-child when it comes to eating. In the eleven months that we’ve been dating, I’ve force fed him more times than he has eaten on his own terms.

I go upstairs, stopping outside the door to his recording room to see if he’s talking to someone so I don’t walk in and interrupt. When no noises come from the inside I knock. 

“Come in.“ 

Upon opening the door, I’m met with Corpse nonchalantly sitting in his desk chair, leaning as back as he can without tipping over. Arms folded behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. The whole nine yards, suggesting that he not streaming.

“Hey.“ He greets me as he turns his chair a bit in an attempt to face me

“Hey, what’d you like for dinner?“ He opens his mouth to reply the millisecond after I have spoken my question. I already know what that reply will be so I hurry to prevent it, “And no, ‘later’ and ‘I’m not hungry’ aren’t on the menu.“

He sighs, shaking his head as though he’s disappointed that I caught onto his game. The smile that slowly makes its way to his lips, however, suggests that he appreciates my concern. “Grilled cheese sandwiches? I mean, if you feel like it.”

I smile, relieved that the usual convincing portion of our interaction on this specific matter has been avoided. “Ok. Be down in fifteen then.” I give him a nod before heading back out into the hallway.

Before I am able to close the door, I hear someone else’s voice come from behind me. “Hey Corpse, was that on your end?”

Oh shit, he wasn’t muted

“Yeah man, sorry. Accidentally unmuted myself.“ Corpse sounds unbothered by this, but I am a little uneasy now.

Corpse and I have agreed to keep our relationship by a ‘won’t ask, won’t tell’ rule - if someone asks him if he’s in a relationship, he won’t lie and say no, but we haven’t gone public nor do we plan on doing so without someone asking us about it head-on. Well, not us. Him. His friends don’t know me and neither do his fans. I’m not in the same industry. I don’t stream nor film YouTube videos. The most I do for that platform is help Corpse with some editing when he needs to have a rest. So, if anyone were to reveal our relationship, it’d be him.

“Oooh, who was that?“ A girl’s voice asks teasingly. “Corpse, what are you not telling us?“

By this point, I’m out in the hall but I left my ears in the room. I know I’m not in the right here - eavesdropping is most definitely not nice, but I can’t help myself.

I hear him chuckle, “Nah, it’s just my friend Y/N.”

My heart drops so suddenly for a reason beyond my understanding. I feel like a kid feels when it’s told Santa isn’t real - I can’t believe what I heard. 

I hurry to get back downstairs as soon as possible and also as quietly as I can. It’s tough, running with a pit in your stomach and a knot of I’m pretty sure is tears in your throat. When I’m finally in the kitchen, the aforementioned tears are blurring my vision. I try to blink them away but accidentally send one of them trickling down my cheek.

I’m aware this might be an overreaction and if I stopped to think I could probably find ways to justify what Corpse said. But I’m genuinely hurt, and I hate that I am.

I’ve never cared about what others know about me or think of me. Same goes for my relationships. I don’t put labels on things nor on my connection to people. I am surprised and disturbed by how much the label ‘friends’ bothers me. We’ve been dating for almost a year now, you’d think calling me his girlfriend would be second nature. Guess not.

I swallow the hurt and surprise, deciding to keep myself busy with the preparations for the dinner I was planning to make. However, keeping my hands full and giving my eyes a place to look doesn’t stop my thoughts from eating away at me. 

                                                             * * *

Twenty minutes later the sound of a door opening echoes from upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps going through the hallway and then down the stairs. 

“It smells so good in here.“ He comments, his eyebrows raising when he takes in the freshly made sandwiches on the kitchen island. “You’re the best, Y/N.“

“Hmm, aren’t you lucky you have a friend who knows their way around the kitchen, huh?“ I reply sharply, not even sparing him a glance.

In the twenty minutes I was left alone with my wilding thoughts I declared that I wouldn’t beat around bush when he comes downstairs. That I would address the issue and tell him exactly how I feel about it. What I didn’t plan was being so harsh. I actually barely contain a wince when I realize how sharp of an edge my words had.

I feel ten times more guilty when I see the regret that flashes on his face, “You heard that.” He grips the edges of the table, leaning down and letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

The anger in me evaporates, leaving room for the hurt to keep spreading and take over me. I was never really angry with him, I’m just upset by the fact that his immediate reaction wasn’t to refer to me as his girlfriend. 

“Why would you panic? What’s it to you if they know?“ My voice is barely above a whisper now, the tears I’m fighting back are clogging my throat, not allowing me to sound as clearly as I’d like.

“What’s it to you? I thought you didn’t care.“ He argues back, his gaze travelling from the tabletop to my eyes. I see the guilt in all his features and his body language.

“I thought so too.“ I shake my head, “But hearing you call me a ‘friend’...’just a friend’ stings. I don’t even know why, but it does. It feels almost like you are embarrassed of me. If that’s the case you can just tell me, you know?“

In a blink of an eye he’s crouched down in front of me, one hand holding both of mine while the other cups my cheek. “It’s not. It has never been and it will never be the case. You are one amazing person, Y/N. You deserve the world, not to be stuck with me. I’m just...” He trails off, his eyes not able to focus on mine any longer, “I’m scared of how people knowing about us will affect our relationship.”

My blood starts boiling again. I know I need to get away from him before I reach the point of saying something that’ll hurt him, so I untangle my hands from his grasp, pulling away from him. “Weak excuse, Corpse. You know it will change nothing except make me feel more included in your life. I will no longer feel like I’m a house rat no one knows about.” I stand up, unable to look at him, and start heading for the staircase. 

“Y/N, please! ”I stop dead in my tracks when he calls out my name, his footsteps following behind me. “Don’t be...-”

I turn around, cutting him off in the process, “I need to be alone right now.” I tilt my head in the direction of the dining table, “Sit down and eat dinner. We’ll talk...later.”

                                                             * * *

Now that it’s been almost twelve hours with no contact between us I realize that my reaction was justified only to a certain extent. I understand his concerns and I could’ve expressed mine a little more calmly and in a lot less accusatory manner. But what happened happened and all I can do now is go over to him and apologize, establish a proper communication to resolve the issue that I so stupidly blew out of proportion.

My phone died sometime during the night and has been sitting on the charger but still turned off for a while. I go over to it and press-hold the start button. While it’s powering up I start changing my from my pajamas into my regular clothes, noticing a small stain on my shirt in the process. As I’m examining the stain, my phone starts going crazy with notifications, causing me to jump and drop my shirt.

“Fucking hell.” I mumble, disconnecting my phone from the charger and looking at the huge list of notifications on my lock screen. They are all alerts of new followers, likes and tags, non from people I know. Non except one.

@ corpse_husband tagged you in a post 

Wait what?

I tap the notification which leads me to a picture Corpse posted two hours ago. It’s a picture of me taken in the living room without my knowledge. I’m an oversized sweater and yoga pants, my hair in a messy braid and my attention caught by the book in my hands. My glasses have slipped a bit down my nose, suggesting that I’m too concentrated on the contents of the pages in front of me that I haven’t noticed.

We started off as friends but it didn’t take long for her to become my best friend. And then she stole my heart. I know you’ll read this eventually, Y/N. So...hi. Love you. 

PS - the sandwiches were bomb 🖤

I’m more than caught off guard. Like a surprise hug from behind, warmth spreading all throughout my body. 

Without a second of hesitation I put my phone down and run to the bedroom door. However, I don’t make it very far considering I nearly run straight into Corpse’s chest as I exit the room. He catches me before I knock him straight to the ground, thankfully.

“Aren’t you a rocket this morning. Where are you headed?“ He chuckles, holding onto my upper arms.

One look at his smile, a single word out of his mouth and I’m melting. I walk straight into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, hiding my face in his chest. He comfortably rests his chin on the top of my head, not asking any further questions until I finally answer.

“Right here. I was heading for you.“ I whisper before I pull away enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I was being childish and overdramatic and I’m sorry about all I said. I was really upset.“

“It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry for making you upset in the first place. I understand now how much it means to you.“ He caresses my cheekbone with the back of his hand. “I...um...tried to make things right by...“

I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his, putting an end to his timid stuttering. “I saw it.” I mumble in the kiss.

“Did you like it?“ 

“I loved it.“

“Did you read the comments?“

My heart skips a beat when I hear that dreaded term. Just the thought of reading through the comments terrifies me. I tell myself that some strangers’ words aren’t gonna have an impact on me, but I know they will. Especially since these ‘strangers’ mean so much to Corpse.

I shake my head. He pulls away, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room. “You have to. You’re gonna love them.”

I reluctantly follow him, plopping down on the couch next to him as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the comment section of the picture he posted. He was right. All these people have said such things about me and about our relationship. Some verified names are also there, sharing their support much like the fans. 

“See, this is why I was nervous. I’ll have to do duels for your attention now.“ He glances at me, leaning in and kissing my temple as he sometimes does so impulsively.

“You don’t do duels when you are already sitting at the throne. Right next to me.“ I once again capture his lips with mine, tempted to never pull away, but also tempted to keep reading the comments.

Damn, he might be right about the duels.

He takes his phone from me setting it aside as he slowly lifts me and settles me in his lap, never letting our lips detach.

Nevermind. Fuck the duels

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze

[y0itsbri]

shameless summer series (s2 era) - based on this prompt posted by @ianandmickeygallavich & @shameless-notashamed ☀️📽️🍿

Mandy doesn’t know why the fuck Mickey is tagging along to her movie date with Ian. He says it’s because the cinema is air-conditioned. She doesn’t believe him, why would he sit through a romantic comedy just to keep cool? And she also doesn’t get why Ian sits in the middle of them.

words: 1.2k

"Ian, come on we're gonna be late!" Mandy yelled from the bottom of the steps outside the Gallagher's house.

"Jesus Christ, Mands, did you want the fuckin' Twizzlers or not?" Ian passed the threshold to the outside and smacked her shoulder with the candy before she smuggled them out of his grip.

"Thank you, boyfriend," she kissed his cheek as he scrunched up his nose at the affection -- especially in front of her brother, who looked onto their loving display amused before returning his gaze back down at the ground.

Mandy kicked Mickey in the shin.

"Ow- fuck! What?!"

"Be fuckin' nice, dickwad," she threateningly whispered.

If Ian was looking closely, he might have seen the tips of Mickey's ears blush red as he muttered a "'sup, Gallagher."

"Hey Mick," Ian smiled at him, unable to help himself.

"'m sorry my idiot brother decided to crash our date." Mandy apologized, emphasizing the last word and glaring at an unbothered Mickey. She led her boys down the side walk en route to the movie theater for the two o'clock showing they had been planning to see.

"Oh, did he now?" Ian teased, threatening to cross into Mickey's part of the sidewalk, but Mickey held his ground and dodged Ian's attempts to bump into him.

"It's hot as balls out and you know damn well Dad hasn't paid the AC in ages." Mickey pulled a piece of Mandy's hair from behind her.

"Bitch! Coulda went to wherever the fuck it is you normally terrorize," she swooped her hair to the front of her shoulders, out of Mickey-the-menace's reach.

"No AC."

"Whatever."

-

Ian caught the side door to the theater as a group of kids were exiting a movie. The three teenagers snuck in successfully.

"'ey Ian, ya want some popcorn? I was gonna get some."

"Uh, yeah, sure -- thanks Mickey," Ian grinned as Mickey turned away without another word.

"Shit! We're gonna miss the previews -- let's go!"

"What about Mickey?" Ian wondered.

"Uh, we'll save a seat? Duh? Do you have worm for brains?"

"Shut up," Ian shoved her and she giggled.

-

Mandy cuddled into Ian's side as they took some empty seats in the back of the theater. She loved spending time with her best friend, but why did her brother always have to cock block? Okay -- not that she was gonna get some, anyways, because Ian's fucking gay or whatever, but it's still the sentiment!

As the final previews ended, Mandy believed that Mickey would truly be a no show. She had no idea why he tagged along to see Perks of Being a Wallflower with them in the first place when she was pretty sure some movies with like fucking superheroes or battleships or some shit were on next door. He hasn't been soft enough to watch a romance movie in years -- especially in front of another guy. It just didn't add up.

She sighed as Mickey finally waltzed into the theater, two bags of popcorn in hand. Mandy picked up her purse from the seat next to her for Mickey to sit down, but he kept walking and plopped down on the other side of Ian. The fuck?

"Mick, I saved you a seat here," she whispered.

Mickey shook the bags of buttery puffs between himself and Ian, "Popcorn." He turned back towards the screen as if that justified everything. Whatever. Ian was still hers at least.

Ian moved his hand from Mandy's arm so he could eat his popcorn.

Motherfucker.

She gnawed on her Twizzlers.

-

Ian had a hard time focusing on the movie at first. Mickey was manspreading and his left thigh was pushing into Ian's -- hand-me-down athletic shorts touching worn denim.

Ian glanced over at Mickey just in time to see him tilt his head back, exposing his throat, and dump the contents of the popcorn bag into his mouth, spilling a few pieces.

Mickey gave him a side eye and cocked an eyebrow up, "See something ya like?"

"You're a messy eater."

"Says the guy with half his food on his chest." Ian looked down. Oh.

Before he could bring his hand up to brush it off, Mickey plucked off a piece of popcorn and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly while keeping eye contact with Ian. Motherfucker.

Ian was not about to be sporting a semi with fucking Emma Watson on screen and Mandy two inches to his left. He wasn't.

Mickey grinned and turned his focus back on the movie again.

-

Of course this movie would have a queer character that Mickey was both repulsed and drawn towards. Some things hit a little too close to home for comfort, okay?

Fuck.

He knew he was frozen and tense. He didn't expect anyone else to notice, but of course, fucking Ian was like an alien motherfucker always tuned into his frequency. He always knew.

Without looking at him, Ian cautiously placed his hand over Mickey's thigh. When Mickey didn't push away - in fact, he leaned into it, - Ian gently stroked his leg with his thumb in what he thought was a loving gesture. An I see you gesture. An it's okay gesture.

Maybe it would be okay.

-

Mandy started tearing up near the end of the movie, so Ian, in his perfect boyfriend role, wrapped his arm around her shoulders -- her face tucked into his chest. Her eyes were glued to the screen, so she didn't even notice that one of Ian's hands was dropped to the side of the seat and inched so close towards the edge, towards Mickey's seat -- so close, in fact, that the boys had been linking pinky fingers for the better part of the movie. Hidden in the dark of the theater. Their fingers had started sweating like half an hour ago, but neither of them could bring themselves to pull away just yet, savoring their little piece of forever in the grimy cinema. Some shit about we accept the love we think we deserve.

-

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom before we go, you guys gonna be fine by yourselves for a minute?"

"We'll see," Mickey muttered. Mandy frowned.

Ian clasped his hand over Mickey's shoulder, "He means we'll be fine."

Mickey flipped him off until Mandy was out of view and then dipped his head towards one of the theater doors, motioning for Ian to follow. The door didn't lead to another theater, but to a storage closet.

Before the door was even able to close all the way, Mickey frantically reached to pull down Ian's pants. Ian's brain worked slower than his dick as he managed to comprehend their current situation.

"Mick, we have like no time," Ian groaned into it, his feeble attempt to not get so turned on quickly failing.

"Imma make it quick, new personal best."

Ian's chuckle turned into a gasp. Okay, damn, maybe so.

Mickey's head rested on Ian's chest and Ian's head fell atop Mickey's, the scent of his hair gel mixed with him intoxicating his senses.

Motherfucker.

-

Mandy exited the bathroom, her company no where to be seen. She leaned against the pole, debating calling Ian or waiting another couple minutes. Sure enough, the boys came wandering over a few minutes later.

"Took ya long enough, where'd you run off to?"

"Uh, Ian wanted to look at the movie poster for, uh-"

"Battleship."

"Yeah, Battleship."

"Nerds," Mandy called, walking towards the exit. They were terrible liars. They all knew it. Whatever, they hadn't killed each other, that's all she cared about. She turned around to face the semi-stunned boys, "Coming?"

They headed back home in the sweltering sun, Mandy leading the group as always.

And if the two boys walked a little closer than before as Mandy turned a blind eye, that was nobody's business but theirs.

[goldenmorningglory]

Headcanon that Reki and Langa TALK THINGS OUT and MAKE UP and get back to skating happily together.

So weeks later, Langa's mom sees he's looking so much happier and asks him if everything was resolved. He looks a bit clueless so she goes,

"you know, when you said you messed up and broke a promise with someone you like?" She doesn't mention the revelation that came after and Langa, who now blushing a bit is thankful.

He also realises that he never introduced Reki to his mom.

The next day, Langa drags Reki to his home right after school. They skate to his house. Langa doesn't know if he should feel nervous cause it feels like his mother will instantly connect the dots. But Reki is here looking adorably anxious taking in Langa's home, so he pushes the door open and invites him in.

"Langa, are you sure I can come, we haven't told your mom, I don't wanna impose-"

Langa shuts him up with a finger on Reki's lips, whose eyes go wide in response.

"She'll probably pass out of happiness when she sees that I brought a friend home."

Reki rolls his eyes and chuckles, light red dusting his cheeks and ears. He takes a deep breath and then smiles at Langa.

Ah Reki's smile will kill him worse than any S race.

"I'm home!" he calls out at the same time as Reki's "Sorry for the interruption!" They look at each other and giggle, walking into the living room after removing their shoes.

Langa's mom is in the dining room setting the table. She looks up to see her son setting down his bag on the sofa while another teen, presumably the 'Reki' who keeps featuring in Langa's talks, is standing looking lost.

"hello dear!!" she greets him. She's nervous, Langa hasn't brought home a friend before. And if her instinct was right this was the person he had talked about. That meant she had to be at her best for the one who made her kid so happy.

"Ah, Hasegawa-san! I'm Kyan Reki! Langa's classmate!" He shakes her held out hand. There's no hint of shyness here, he's smiling brighter than the snow in Canada on a sunny day. Her son looks enamoured. She's smiles wider.

"Good to meet you Reki kun! I've heard a lot from Langa about you!" The kid blushes instantly, scratching the back of his head to probably hide his embarrassment. Langa though, seems unbothered.

"Ah mom, is it okay if Reki stays for dinner? I've asked his mother permission too."

Mrs. Hasegawa nods enthusiastically. "Of course it's no hassle! It's the first time you brought some one home Langa." She turns to Reki, who's is almost starting to resemble his hair. "You can stay the night if you wish too! I know Langa has slept over at yours."

She hears a muttered, "I don't want to burden you." which she waves away. "It's no bother to me Reki-kun. Please make yourself at home! I'll get you boys something to eat."

She leaves to the kitchen but a glance back tells her they're already in their own little world. She smiles to herself and hums a cherry tune as she gets snacks.

Reki is in general, not a shy person. That's probably owing to his bull headed ways of just being loud enough to bury any embarrassment he might accidentally show.

Here though, in the Hasegawa household, he feels different. This is where Langa lives, where he gets up in the morning, where he goes to sleep at night. He wondered if Langa felt nervous when Reki had dragged him to his home. He wonders if it is normal to want your best friend's mother to like you, especially when she's "heard a lot about" you.

"-ki REKI???"

"ah yeah Langa?" He was so lost in thought that Langa was now frowning at him.

"are you okay? you zoned out a bit."

Reki laughs nervously. "Wh- ah yeah no I'm fine I'm fine!"

Langa squints at him for a second and then shrugs.

"come with me we'll go to my room."

"okay!" Reki replies, a bit light headed.

Langa's room is pretty much like himself. Sparing the small mess of clothes and books, it's space in decor. It makes up for it but the way it's more naturally lit than Reki's own room. Reki puts down his bag on the floor, at the foot of the bed and looks around. Langa, who had done the same, comes to sit beside him on the bed. Their shoulders and knees touch and something about being close to Langa in his bedroom makes Reki blush.

"so....what do you wanna do?"

Reki shakes off his embarrassment and grins up at Langa opening his mouth to gush about how he wants to show Langa this one video about this new trick when he spots a photograph on the desk behind Langa.

Curious, he goes to take a closer look. It's a family picture. Reki recognises Langa's mom. The one next to her, he presumes was Langa's dad. "Huh. So that's who taught him snowboarding." he thinks. Then, Reki smiles. "Thank you for teaching him. He's amazing".

But more than anything, it's the kid standing between the two that captures his attention.

It's Langa. And he's tiny.

"Oh my god. Langa." He turns back to his friend and Langa, who realises why all of a sudden, flushes.

"I was 5!"

But Reki pays no mind, just staring at the tiny version of his best friend.

"Langa." He straightens and puts his head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

"Uhh Reki?"

Reki in utmost anguish, bursts, "It's not fair!!! How were you so cute????"

There were literal question marks popping on Langa's head, before he rolls his eyes and Huff's and Reki's dramatics.

"Babies are cute in general. Stop sounding so surprised."

Reki, having given up his agony stricken acting, hums.

"you're right. it's not like that has changed in your case. Well, cmon there's this video you gotta see!"

Before Langa can even process the fact that Reki, his very beautiful and adorable best friend Reki, just called him cute, he was being dragged back to bed for another skating trick tutorial video session.

By the time Mrs. Hasegawa brought their snacks, they were deep into the YouTube algorithm rabbit hole. They looked up when she entered, and Reki smiled and thanked her. She smiled back and then closed the door lightly before she left.

Mrs. Hasegawa hoped, that despite being a bit of an airhead, her son would notice that Reki was equally enamoured with him in return. She wished her son to be happy.

Ah young love. She smiled to herself.

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 5: 3-day free trial Day 1

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Day 1

A very rare day off. Usually, Sakusa would spend it cleaning his whole house, but this time Kia is around. Does he ask her to help? What does a 30-month old know about cleaning?

The night before, it was chill. Kia slept immediately after eating dinner and bathing, probably because she was tired from the flight. Plus, his parents were there to help him. He starts to think not to let the toddler nap so she’ll sleep immediately.

You are still in Tokyo, processing some papers for work and will arrive 3 days after. Which means, Sakusa has to take care of Kia alone for 3 days. He really has no idea on what to do. You gave him a schedule of Kia’s routines, but he thinks it’s systematically ridiculous. He has no free time at all.

6:30 AM: wake up (don’t let her stay in bed for a long time or you’ll suffer tonight)

7:30 AM: breakfast (she eats solid food and isn’t allergic to anything. she also isn’t picky. just make sure you cut her food into small pieces)

8:00 AM: bath (she loves playing with water. watch her carefully. she might slip and hit her head.)

8:30 AM: household chores (she likes helping with the chores, especially folding clothes and hanging the laundry)

11:30 AM: lunch

1:00 PM: nap time (give her milk. make sure you let her help you with the chores or she’ll not sleep. she has a lot of energy. also, this is your alone time. spend it wisely.)

3:00 PM: wake up. (give her snacks)

7:00 PM: wash.

8:00 PM: dinner.

10:00 PM: sleep.

She’s not as messy as other kids, but she’s still a child, she can’t help it but make mess. Go easy on her.

“Is this how she spends her time?” Sakusa stares at the piece of paper disappointedly. He checks the clock on the wall it’s almost time for Kia to wake up. “Right. Her mom said she’ll call any minute now.”

Sakusa goes to the room and opens the blinds, waking Kia up. She sits up, looking around the unfamiliar room. She sees Sakusa and raises her hands, a sign to lift her up, but he doesn’t understand. “What?”

Kia starts crying, confusing the hell out of Sakusa. He gives her a bottle of milk but she rejects it. She continues to raise her arms, her cries getting louder. Sakusa wants to throw her out of the window, but that would be murder and you will definitely kill him for it.

Kia stops crying then stares at him with teary eyes. They look at each other as if they are competing on a staring contest. And he wins, Kia says what she wants. “Carry.”

“We have to change your diaper first. Then, I’ll carry you.”

“Okay.”

Kia jumps out of bed and runs to the bathroom, Sakusa following behind her in a safe distance. He puts her on the changing station, lying her on her back. He changes the diaper in horror, but Kia is just enjoying the lights in the bathroom.

Not long after having changed her diapers, you call Sakusa. He puts Kia on the high chair, then answers your call. He takes a phone stand and leans his phone on it, so you can talk to your daughter properly. “Mama!” Kia cheers upon seeing your face.

“Baby!” You coo on the other line. “How are you? I miss you!”

‘Already? Pfft. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since you last saw her.’

Sakusa continues to make rice balls. First he makes his, since he is unsure of how much Kia can eat. He puts his finished onigiris aside, then stands behind Kia’s chair to see ask you.

The moment you see him on screen, a blush creeps on your cheeks. He is wearing a loose maroon shirt that shaped his shoulder way too good for your liking. You stare at him without realizing. ‘Has his shoulders always been that broad?’

“Hey, I’m asking you something.” He calls and you snap out of your thoughts. You clear your throat and answer with a hum. He rolls his eyes and repeats his question. “Is this enough rice for Kia?” He tilts the plate of rice, showing it to you.

You act as if you are examining the plate but you are actually too busy staring at his toned and veiny forearms. You nod at him and he leaves the screen again. You pout and forget about Kia who is staring at you. After a while of assessing your face, Kia finally concludes on why you look upset.

“Kyo, go back here. Mama’s sad. She wants to see you, too.”

The room falls silent, and your apartment that is hundreds of kilometers away from them does too. Sakusa, to save you from embarrassment, pretends not to hear Kia’s statement. Then, he hears you speak, “Kia, baby. I have to go to work now. Bye!”

You end the call immediately. Sakusa on the other hand still looks unbothered, but deep down he is smiling like an idiot. But Kia saddens upon seeing the black screen on the device.

“What’s that?” Kia asks out of curiosity and boredom, pointing at Sakusa’s hands that are molding the rice into tiny balls she won’t choke on.

“Your food.”

“What food?”

“Onigiri.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why Onigiri?”

“What do you want to eat?”

“Onigiri.”

“Then, shut up. You won’t get to eat if you don’t keep quiet.”

“Why should I?”

Sakusa groans, then puts the plate of rice balls down on the counter rather agreesively. Kia’s lower lip quivers, staring at him in guilt. He takes a deep breath in before continuing to shape the ham and cheese as he prays for more patience.

Sakusa places the finished food on her tray, then lifts Kia up of her chair to bring her to the sink. He helps her wash and dry her hands before returning her back to the table. She bows her head, mumbling a soft ‘itadakimasu’ before holding onto her spoon. She attempts to put a piece of carrot on her spoon, but fails miserably.

“Feed me!” Kia announces in which Sakusa responds with a sigh. He leaves his food to feed her. He takes the spoon from her hand and attempts to feed her. He honestly wants to shove it in her mouth, but he doesn’t want a child to die in his house because of choking.

“Don’t make a mess,” Sakusa warns, and she nods. He continues to feed her and she is calm to his surprise. On her last rice ball, Kia looks at Sakusa in anticipation but only to be rewarded by a stare.

Sakusa puts Kia down before he cleans her seat and wash her plate. He continues to eat his and tells her to go to her room. She runs to her room and start playing with whatever toy there is in there. She spots a marker and takes the lid off. She runs to the wall and starts scribbling on it in delight. Sakusa finishes eating and washing with the dishes so he checks up on Kia.

“What are you doing?!” He shouts, seeing the markings on the wall. Kia looks at him in shock, dropping the pen to the ground. She starts crying as Sakusa marches towards her. “Why did you draw on the wall?!”

“I’m sorry!” Kia cries, feeling guilty of what she has done.

“You better be because you just made a mess on my wall!” Sakusa scolds, picking up the pen she just used. He takes the other pens on the table and throws them forcefully in the trashcan. Kia cries even harder which irritates Sakusa. “Shut up!”

Kia stops crying because of his words. “Do you not like Kia?” She asks innocently.

“I don’t like messy children like you,” he answers in a stern manner before he aggressively wipes the ink off the wall with wipes. He looks at Kia, expecting her to cry but she is only staring at the wall.

“I thought papa loves me...” Kia mumbles before sitting down on the floor. Sakusa didn’t hear her words due to the stress that is filling him in. Preoccupied with cleaning, he doesn’t realize Kia staring at the wall unhealthily.

Sakusa finishes and grabs clothes from her drawer and the baby bag you prepared in case they go out. He changes Kia then leaves the room. He places Kia in the highchair again so he can change into his practice clothes.

“I won’t be able to survive being alone with you for anymore time.”

-------

The two enter the gym, Kia garnering everyone’s attention. He instructs her to sit at the bench and not to move unless it’s necessary. Everyone is quiet, confused as hell, and cannot believe what they are seeing. Sakusa Kiyoomi with a child, a child that resembles him way too much.

“Is that your daughter?” Bokuto excitedly asks, the other members are so thankful and ashamed of him for asking the question they all want to ask. “She’s taller than I thought!”

“Did you think she was 1 foot tall or something?” Atsumu remarks, walking closer to the child with Hinata. Kia’s eyes glimmers as she sees them.

She stands on the bench, looking up to them. The volleyball players put their hands on their knees, crouching, to level with Kia’s height. “You’re very tall!” Kia exclaims excitedly.

Hinata blushes at her statement, “I am?” He giggles, lifting Kia up. “You’re so cute!”

Atsumu examines her features silently, glancing at Sakusa to do some comparisons. She smiles at the faux blonde and captures his heart immediately. He clutches on his chest exaggeratedly, making Kia giggle.

“You look like your papa but cuter!” Atsumu coos at her, pinching her cheek.

Kia’s eyes widen in excitement upon hearing the word ‘papa.’ She jumps to Atsumu’s arms, which he luckily catches her. “You know my papa?”

Everyone in the room becomes silent with Kia’s question. Atsumu tilts her head to the side, then looks at Sakusa. He is looking at the court, obviously not paying attention to Kia or what she is saying. “Isn’t he your papa?” Atsumu asks, pointing a finger at Sakusa.

“My mama said papa is tall and handsome with curly hair. He also has black hair and black eyes and fair skin! He is also very tall!” Kia rambles.

Isn’t she describing Sakusa? Everyone in the room thinks.

“But Kyo!” She points at Sakusa who is now staring at her. “He’s a monster!”

Sakusa grabs a volleyball and the team members stop him from hitting Kia with it. He shouts in frustration, leaving the gym. Kia starts crying in fear again and the boys help her quiet down. Atsumu hands her to Hinata before chasing after Sakusa.

Atsumu spots Sakusa at the lockers, sitting quietly on his spot. The blonde sits a bench away from him, giving him enough space. Sakusa looks at him and sighs. “I can’t believe you’re the one I’m talking to.”

“If you prefer to talk with Hinata or Bokuto, I’ll go call them.”

“Please, no. You’re the most sane out of the three.”

“Thanks?” Atsumu chuckles, then waits for Sakusa to say something again. He’s aware of how blunt Sakusa is with his words, but Kia just seem to shut him up. He can’t say anything to her.

“What seems to be the problem?” Atsumu starts, knowing Sakusa won’t say anything if he doesn’t.

Atsumu is seen as asshole by everybody, but he is definitely not a bad friend. Sakusa may not consider him as one, but he does. And he’s more than willing to listen and talk to him.

“Kia. I just don’t really like children.”

Atsumu takes a deep breath in before asking Sakusa a question that can get him killed by the ace. “So why are you trying?”

Sakusa processes his question then laughs. Atsumu is getting scared. He has always seen Sakusa as a psychopath and he is showing signs right now. He is about to flee the room but Sakusa answers him.

“Because I want her mom back.”

But he doesn’t want Kia.

--

After their practice, Sakusa, Bokuto, Atsumu and Hinata decide to eat dinner together. Atsumu lowkey scared for Kia. What if he doesn’t feed her dinner? He’s even thinking of bringing her home until you arrive.

They arrive in Miya Onigiri, the only place Sakusa trusts to dine in. They get seated in the private room, Osamu well-aware of Sakusa’s hate towards crowds. He got surprised about seeing Kia, too, but he didn’t say anything. He gives her a highchair and she thanks him gleefully. He ruffles her hair before helping her up in the chair. After taking their orders, he goes to the kitchen to make it.

Kia sits between Sakusa and Atsumu, while Bokuto and Hinata sit across them. Kia is busy chatting with the boys when Sakusa’s phone starts to ring so he checks it and see that you’re calling. He answers it and hands the phone to Kia.

“Mama!” Kia cheers. “Look! I’ve got new friends!” She shows Hinata and Bokuto on the screen, and your eyes widen. Bokuto quiets down and stares at you in shock as well.

“Akaashi’s cousin!” Bokuto says. “Kia is your daughter too? She’s Omi-kun’s daughter as well!” You chuckle awkwardly until they grey hair boy hits realization. “You said Kia’s father is dead!”

“I never said that!” You reply in defense. Upon hearing your exchange with Bokuto, Sakusa gets bothered. Did you really say he was dead to other people?

“Bokuto don’t shout at my mama like that!” Kia pouts. You call her and tells her to use polite terms with the three since they’re her uncles.

Atsumu laughs at your statement and his deep laugh catches you off guard. Kia shows herself in the camera again and Atsumu is seen too. “We’re at the age that we’re considered as uncles already, huh?”

“Yes, you are.” You clarify and Atsumu scoffs.

“I’m Miya Atsumu by the way,” he introduces and you introduce yourself back. The three of you, with Kia, continue to call as they wait for their food. Atsumu asks questions about you which is annoying Sakusa every time you answer it with ethusiasm. The food arrives so they say their goodbyes, then you end the call as soon as Atsumu says bye, not giving Sakusa the chance to talk to you.

“You can’t use spoon well yet?” Atsumu coos, taking Kia’s spoon. He feeds her as he eats as well, the irritation in Sakusa’s body growing even more.

After eating, it is time to say good bye. And Kia isn’t letting go of Atsumu.

“I wanna stay with you!” Kia cries, clinging onto Atsumu’s neck. Having enough of Kia being way too attached to Atsumu, Sakusa grabs Kia out of the blonde’s grasps, leaving her to cry. She throws punches on his chest which obviously has no effect, but she’s trying okay?

“He’s my papa! Not you!”

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

[prev]  [next]

Random Facts:

Before Kia left for Osaka, Akaashi told her that Kiyoomi is her dad. She didn’t believe him.

Meian now has the baby fever.

Taglist:  @elianetsantana aoi-turtle ptv-hades  aquzairus a-applepi  justoneofthefangirls arianna-r13 morenabambinii

[tobesolonely]

more time with you

a/n: hello everyone! here's some dad!harry for you all :-) i had a lot of fun writing it and am wondering if this family could be a little recurring thing?? lmk what you all think! i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: fluff (super cute dad!harry!!!), oral (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk

word count: 2.5 k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

If you knew that getting your husband to take a break from all the late nights in the studio, the commitment to several different interviews a week, and the daunting possibility of a world tour within the near future, was by telling him you were ready for another baby, you would've done so way sooner.

Your daughter, Allison (or Ally, she reminded you every time you and Harry would get upset with her and call her by her full name), was nearly six years old. You knew that you and Harry wanted a big family, so it was a surprise to everyone that knew the two of you that you didn't have a house full of babies running around yet. Needless to say, you were ecstatic when Harry agreed he was also ready for another child. He immediately pushed back everything he had planned within the current year to the following year.

"Next album can come out a lil' bit later, m' sure everyone will understand." He reassured you when you asked him if he really had to cancel absolutely every single thing he had in the works. "Just wanna take some time off for you, Ally, and our second love bug. Loved the time off I spent with yeh and Ally when she was jus' a baby, 'member that?"

You smile at the memory of you and Harry being new parents, trying to care for a fussy baby that wouldn't sleep through the night for the life of you until she was nearly two years old. After that, Harry decided he was ready to get back to work, admitting that he wouldn't be as guilty leaving you with a baby that sleeps through the night versus one that wakes up every few hours.

"I remember," you sigh contentedly. "I can't wait to do it all over again. Also, can't wait to start trying…" You trail off, trying to slip your hand under Harry's t-shirt that he wore to bed the night before.

Harry tsks, giving you a cheeky look and moves your hand out from under the fabric of his shirt. "Not now, darling. Ally's football game is at ten, so we gotta wake her up soon."

Letting out a soft sigh, you cross your arms, knowing Harry was right. You were just excited by all that talk about expanding your family that you wanted to get started right away. If Ally was late to her football game, though, she'd be furious at the two of you because that would mean sitting out the first quarter. She hated not being able to play as much as she possibly could. "I'll go wake her up, and you can make her a bowl of fruit or something like that? Needs something light, so she doesn't complain about a stomach ache with all that running around she'll be doing."

"Oh yeah, wouldn't be good now, would it? Can't have a repeat of last time," he laughs at the memory of you frantically calling him during half time of your daughter's football game last year while he was at a meeting going over tour logistics to scold him for making her such a heavy, greasy breakfast, while he laughed and told Jeff about Ally's little incident. "I'll go get her breakfast started." He places a kiss on your cheek and swiftly gets out of bed. You get up shortly after him, tie your robe around your body, and head down the hall to your daughter's room.

"Ally," you knock gently on the frame of her door. "Time to get up, bug. It's half past 8, and your coach sent Mumma a message saying he wanted everyone there by 9:15. Up you go, sweetie."

Your daughter groans and pulls the covers up higher over her face. "M' sleepy, Mumma. Don' wanna go today." You smile at her and walk over to her tiny bed, sitting down on the edge.

"I'm sorry you're sleepy, bug. But your teammates need you! 'Member what Mumma and daddy told you about bein' a team player when you told us you wanted to play footie like all your friends in school? They're gonna be missin' you if you're not there with them today, sweetie."

At this, Ally peaks her head out from under her covers, sleep still in her eyes. You continue on. "And besides bug, daddy's gonna be at your game today! He hasn't seen you play very often, has he?" Ally's eyes immediately light up when you remind her that Harry would be in attendance. He was a wonderful husband and dad, but he wasn't perfect. Sometimes he'd forget about her games and practices and already have things scheduled that he just couldn't cancel at the last minute. Although your daughter understood that her daddy was very busy, she hasn't quite grasped the magnitude of exactly how famous Harry actually was. Therefore, she wasn't quite sure why he wasn't able to make it to every single one of her events.

"Daddy's gonna watch? He's gonna see my whole game!" Ally all but squeals, kicking her covers off. "Where's daddy? We can go now!"

You grin at your daughter's enthusiasm, thrilled that she was so excited for her daddy to watch her play. "Slow down, babe. I'll get your uniform out of the dryer, and you can go down and eat breakfast with daddy. How's that sound?"

Ally nods and quickly runs out of her room, ignoring you calling out to her and asking her to please stop running. Shaking your head, you get up from her bed and retrieve her football uniform. You hear her talking a mile a minute downstairs to Harry, telling him how excited she is that he was gonna get to see her play and get to see all her 'cool friends'. Ally was a daddy's girl for sure, and you loved every minute of it. After getting her uniform from the dryer, you lay it out on her bed and go downstairs to join your family.

"...and I can run so fast, Mr. Coach says I run fast like a road-runner! You'll think it's so cool, daddy, I promise!" You walk in on Ally enthusiastically telling Harry what to expect when he's at her game.

"Is that so, bub? Are you the fastest one on your team?" Harry entertains the conversation, setting a bowl of oatmeal in front of your daughter.

"Yeah, daddy! And I don't even trip and stuff over the ball anymore like I used to! Mumma says I'm more 'co-ordinated'!"

You and Harry let out a giggle at your daughter's pronunciation of the word 'coordinated'. Yet, she doesn't notice, hurriedly stuffing her breakfast into her mouth.

"I'm proud of you for being more coordinated, bub," Harry ruffles her hair. "C'mon and let's finish up so Mumma can help you get ready for your game, don't wanna be late, do ya?"

⋆⋆⋆

"That's my girl, Ally! Go- oh, wrong way, poppet! Other way!"

You watched amusedly from one of the folding chairs you and Harry brought. He's eagerly yelling to your daughter on the field who was now about to score a goal for the opposing team because she was running in the wrong direction. She kicks the ball to one of her teammates, and Harry claps loudly, causing her to stop and wave at him.

"Nice kick, Ally! Pay attention!"

The other parents are looking amused at Harry, some knowing who he is, you assumed, based on how they had their camera phones out. Harry turns to look at you unbothered, a proud grin on his face.

"My daughter is a football star! Gonna go pro, that one is."

"Our daughter," you jokingly tell him. "And sit down, Harry! You're distracting her. She has looked over this way at you probably a dozen times already!" Harry playfully rolls his eyes at you but sits down anyway, knowing you're right. He settles down for the rest of the game, cheering loudly for her but staying seated so she doesn't get distracted by him.

As soon as the game is over, Ally immediately runs over to her dad and starts talking excitedly. "Did ya see how good I played, daddy? Did ya? I told you I can run fast! Did you see how fast I run? I'm fast, do you think so?"

Harry lets out a loud laugh, hoisting your daughter upon his shoulders. "I saw indeed, poppet. Really startin' to think yeh the fastest lil' bug I've ever seen in my life." Ally's eyes widen at this statement, and you snicker as you fold the chairs you and Harry were sitting in back up. The three of you are getting ready to leave when one of Ally's teammates and her mother comes up to you with smiles on their faces.

"Great game, Ally! You're such a good little striker!" Ally beams at this compliment, as does Harry.

"Whadya say when someone tells yeh something nice, bug?" He gently reminds her. Ally lets out a timid 'thank you,' and Harry gives her a little squeeze on her leg.

"Can Ally come to my house and eat pizza with me? And we can play with my toys, and we can watch a movie!" Ally's friend looks between you and Harry, a pleading look in her eyes. "My Mumma said it's okay with her if it's okay with you!"

"Oh, we wouldn't want to intrude…" you start, but Ally's friend's mother waves her hand.

"S'not a problem at all! I'd love to have Ally over, lil' angel she is. She's always welcome over at mine." She tells you and Harry truthfully. You look at Harry and shrug, non-verbally telling him if he's okay with it, then you are. Ally's been over to her friend's house before and always has a great time, and you had no plans as a family for the remainder of the day.

"Okay yeah, that'll be fun won't it, bub?" He asks your daughter, lifting her off his shoulders and setting her back down. He reaches into his pocket and pulls his wallet out. "Let us at least pay for food and some desserts too, if the girls want. I'm sure they will, though." He winks at Ally and her friend, and they giggle and go to kick the ball back and forth to each other while the adults talk. Her mother thanks him profusely but tells him it isn't necessary, but Harry, being the kind person he is, insists and gives her a few bills to cover the girls' day together. He never liked sending your daughter with someone else's parents without money because he thought it was rude to expect them to pay for his kid. He usually ended up paying for all parties involved as a 'thank you' for having your daughter as company. After telling your daughter to be good and have fun, you and Harry walk hand in hand back towards the car.

"Got the whole rest of tha day to ourselves, don't we?" He asks, rubbing his thumb over yours. You hum in acknowledgment and turn to look at him. He has a cheeky grin on his face, and you immediately know what he's thinking.

"Think we should get started on that baby, then?"

⋆⋆⋆

As soon as the two of you are through the front door of your house, Harry has his hands all over you- one on your neck, the other gripping your ass.

"Harry," you moan out breathlessly. "M'not gonna conceive our baby next to the front door."

"Well lucky fo' you, I wasn't plannin' on takin' yeh next to the front door, hmm," he says against your neck, placing a wet kiss on it. "Jump."

You wrap your legs around Harry as he walks you to your couch. "Wasn't really thinkin' 'bout the couch either you goof, but I guess it's better than the floor."

Harry huffs in annoyance and lifts his head to look you in the eyes. "Wan' me to put this baby in yeh or not?"

"Course I do," you retort, reaching in between you to unbutton your jeans. "Been thinkin' about it since this morning."

Harry hums in response and lifts up your shirt, kissing his way down from right below your breasts until he's at your hips. "Gonna let me have a lil' taste first? Make sure you're all nice an' wet fo' me, pet?"

You nod quickly, lifting your hips so Harry could have an easier time getting your bottoms off. He yanks them off and flings them over his shoulder. Harry runs a calloused finger over your underwear, causing you to shudder. "Lets get these off, yeah? That alright with you?" You whimper, bucking your hips up against Harry's hand ghosting over your core.

"Gotta let me hear you say it Y/N, yes or no?" He has the most shit-eating grin on his face, and you know he's just trying to get you all hot and bothered.

"Yes Harry, please get these panties off of me," you all but beg. "Need to feel your tongue on me."

That's all Harry needs to hear before he's hooking your underwear in his fingers, shoving it to the side. He flattens out his tongue and licks slowly up your folds, moaning against you. "Always taste so good, pet. Love havin' my head between yeh thighs like this."

Letting out a rather loud moan, your eyes squeeze shut as you tangle one hand in Harry’s hair, the other gripping the side of the couch. He takes your clit in his mouth and hallows his cheeks, suckly gently. “Feel good, Y/N? Let me know when I’m makin’ yeh feel good, gotta hear it.” You nod, feeling yourself growing close already even though Harry hasn’t been at this for more than three minutes.

“Need your fingers, H,” you breathlessly tell him. “Make me come, please.”

You don’t have to tell Harry again. He sucks on his middle finger and slowly slides it in you, curling it up and searching for that sweet, spongy spot he’s so good at finding. His finger curls against it and you yelp in pleasure, grabbing onto his hair even tighter. “Feels s’good, baby. Fuck, don’t stop please. Whatever you do, don’t fuckin’ stop.” Harry speeds up, sucking even harder on your clit to help you reach your first orgasm of the day.

“Can feel your tight pussy throbbin’ round my finger, know yeh gonna come, Y/N. S’tha feel good?” You move your hands onto your chest, pushing your bra up and rolling your nipples between your fingers. Harry moans at the sight and flicks his tongue on your clit, middle finger moving nimbly inside your cunt. Without warning, your orgasm washes over you, and Harry helps you ride it out, not stopping his licks against your clit. He gradually slows down his movements against your pussy and lifts his head, a big dimpled grin on his glistening face. “Always taste delicious, but I think I wanna feel ya come around m’cock now. I mean, I am on a mission to put another baby in yeh, after all.”

You beam, knowing this was just the start of having Harry to yourself a lot more often.

[ignitedbynatsu]

Little Devils

A/N: @exhaustedpotat0 I hope I exceeded your expectations 🤗. Fun fact about me; I get story ideas at the most random times during the day, like for example when I’m making chocolate milk, poof there is an idea I’ve been trying to come up with for days (yes I am 20, yes I still prefer chocolate milk above coffee, fight me 🥊). ANyWaz thank you for the request and support!

Warnings: near death experience I guess? Bribing if that’s a warning

Genre: fluff? Crack? Idk tbh 

⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡

"It is time for the annual girls-day!" Cana announced as soon as she walked into the guild.

The Fairy Tail girls had picked a date and proclaimed it as the Fairy Queens off day. That day no girl of the guild would work a job or work at the guild itself. They'd all go out of town and enjoy a peaceful day at a resort.

It would be your first time since you had only recently joined the guild because Laxus had requested it. He proposed the idea since you were a bartender at a bar a couple of streets away. He didn't see the point when you could just work here in the guild alongside Mira-Jane. Everyone knew that the real reason was actually, so he could keep a close eye on you and making sure you were okay, but God forbid he'd ever say that out loud.

"I can't," you said as you separated your boys from fighting. Aidan and Keishi were the spitting images of their father. Both having the same blonde locks paired with two soft eyes matching yours.

"Why not?" Erza asked as she helped you.

"I can't leave the boys unattended" you explained as you picked up the crying child and placed him on your hip while Erza scolded the other.

"Let Laxus do it" Bisca shrugged her shoulder as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Alzack did so with Romeo when he was still a child"

You bit the inside of your cheek as you let the suggestion sink in. Laxus had never cared for the children alone. You were always around, and if for some reason you had to go do something, one of the girls was always there to assist him.

"I don't know" you mumbled as your eyes landed on Laxus that was unbothered chatting with Freed and Bickslow.

"Come on, (Y/N). He'll be fine. He's their dad after all" Levy tried to persuade you.

"Oi! You girls still here? Shouldn't you be leaving for your annual girls day?" Natsu asked, ditching the argument he had with Gray just moments ago.

"That's the plan, but (Y/N) doesn't want to go because she isn't sure if she should leave the kids alone" Lucy explained.

Upon hearing the explanation, Laxus decided to stand up and join the conversation as well "they wouldn't be alone, they'll have me"

"Are you sure you'll be able to handle them?" You asked as you looked up at your significant other.

"Is that a challenge?" He shot back while raising an eyebrow in amusement.

"No! No, of course not. It's just... They can be a lot sometimes" you hurriedly explained at which a soft chuckle left his lips, followed by a kiss pressed against your head "I'll be fine"

"Then it's settled! Let's go!" Lisanna yelled as she linked her arm with her sister, basically dragging the older girl with her as she left the guild.

Erza grabbed your arm, refraining you from turning back "Call me if something happens! I'll be back as soon as I can! I love you!"

And with that all the women of Fairy Tail had left the guild, leaving only the men and children behind.

The first few hours flew by as if nothing had changed, the biggest adjustment being Mira-Jane or you not filling their cups when they were empty.

"I really don't understand what (Y/N) was making a big deal out of. This day has passed by swimmingly" Bickslow chuckled as he placed his foot on the table while leaning back in the chair. Normally you or Mira would've scolded him, but with neither of you being there, he thought he'd take advantage of it.

Karma was lurking around the corner, cause as soon as the words rolled off Bickslow's tongue, everything went South.

Your children started a competition to see who could climb the highest point in the guild. They were both a couple of feet in the air when the youngest slipped, losing all flooring underneath his feet.

Had it not been for Jet's speed, the fall would have been catastrophic. "Not a word to (Y/N) about this"

Laxus was desperately comforting Keishi who was inconsolable as he just saw his short life flash before his very own eyes. Meanwhile, Gray and Natsu were trying their hardest to get the eldest down.

"Aiden! Get down here!" Natsu ordered as he started climbing up as well. The child didn't listen, only climbing higher as he took notice of the struggling adult.

His laughter filled the guild, but that soon turned into screams as the Fire Dragon Slayer got hold of his leg. "No! Let go of me!"

Natsu succeeded in getting down safely along with Aiden that was now also crying uncontrollably, leaving Laxus with two very upset children.

"Mommy!" "I want mommy!" The two cried out for their mother that was unbeknownst to the situation, relaxing in a hot spring a couple of cities away.

Laxus held Keishi close, rocking him softly as his hand softly rubbed circles on his back. He had seen you do this countless times, so why did it seem so hard when he did it? Elfman held the oldest, copying Laxus as good as he could.

"Shouldn't we call (Y/N)?" Gray sighed, annoyance evident on his face as every attempt at trying to calm the boys down seemed to fail.

"No!" Laxus exclaimed, earning him even louder sobs from the young child in his arms. He shushed him before returning to Gray in a lower voice "(Y/N) doesn't think I can handle our children"

"I can see why" Natsu snickered, resulting in a murderous look from the father.

"Freed, can't you put them in like a soundproof box or something with your magic" Gajeel groaned at the loud wails that kept coming from your children.

"You will not do such a thing" Laxus snapped at Gajeel in a hushed tone, already learning from his previous mistakes "I will prove to (Y/N) that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my boys. Otherwise, she'll never trust me with them again"

"We still have a couple of hours left until the girls come back. We could try bribing them with sweet, perhaps?" Freed suggested.

Everyone turned to look at the green-haired mage as if he was an angel that was sent from up above. "Why didn't you say so earlier!"

"Aidan, Keishi, if you stop crying we'll go get ice cream" Laxus tried and at the sound of the cold deliciousness, their crocodile tears slowly came to a halt.

"Can we have two flavors, daddy?" Keishi asked as he looked at his father with puppy dog eyes.

"No- yes, fine, you can have two flavors" Laxus quickly changed his answer as he saw tears forming back in the corner of his eyes. He knew you'd have his head if you found out. The two boys really turned into little nightmares if they had too much sugar.

"Yay! Let's go" Aidan exclaimed happily, wriggling in Elfman's arms, signalling that he wanted to be put on the ground.

Laxus let both his sons grab a hand as they guided him out of the guild and to the ice cream shop.

"Please don't come back!" Gajeel called after them as they stepped outside the guild, sighing happily at the thought of some peace and quietness.

"Alright, now boys, I need you to listen to daddy for a second" the dragon slayer crouched down to look at them on eye-level while the two carelessly licked away at the sweet dessert in their hands. "Mommy can't find out about today. It was a normal relaxing day without any problems, alright?"

"What's in it for us?" Aidan asked as he looked at his father, still eating the ice cream that had slightly melted on his hand.

"What the- there's nothing in it for you. I am your father" Laxus started but stopped when the boys shared an unimpressed look. For being only 3 and 4, the two definitely had an attitude. "Fine I'll each give you 5 bucks that you can spend in the candy shop"

"10" Keishi chimed in.

Laxus stood perplexed. Was he really negotiating with his own children? More importantly, how was he the one losing the negotiation? "Fine"

The elder mage did as promised, handing both boys their money to which they high-fived. "Let's go back, the girls are about to return home"

Not even 5 minutes later as the three arrived back at Fairy Tail, the girls had returned.

"Mommy!" The two children ran up to you once they caught a glimpse of your face "boys!"

Laxus walked up as well, giving you a soft peck on your lips, earnings fake gagging from Aidan and Keishi "boys that's enough. How did it go, baby?"

"Normal, not much out of the ordinary, right boys?" As on cue, your children nodded their head in agreement.

"Really? So I could leave you more often with the boys?" You eyed him suspiciously, already picking up on his small habit of twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers when he was nervous or lying.

"No! I mean, I think I should help you take care of them more regularly. I'm sorry for ditching you so often to sit with the guys" he apologized at which a small chuckle escape your lips.

You wondered what happened today, but decided not to press it. It will be a secret between all the men at Fairy Tail and you respected it, knowing very well one would slip up when they had a couple of beers too much "it's alright, and I would love that"

[shoichee]

Hi! Might I request a scenario which takes place after the match with team Jabbawock, where Murasakibara’s s/o is doting on him and his broken arm? Thanks for readibg this :3

HEHE HELLO AND THANK YOU FOR USING THE SUBMISSION IT MADE MY LIFE ALOT EASIER BLESS UP, and thank you for stopping by! 

Murasakibara x Reader

Word Count: 1300

»»—————　☼　—————««

“Jeez! You’re absolutely nuts! Have you ever considered that I might’ve gotten an actual heart attack in seeing you not only getting knocked back with a bleeding wound but also getting completely crushed by that very same basketball player?!”

“… You’re mad, Chibi-chin.” He merely glances at you in the corner of his eye as he simply reaches for another snack amongst the many cradled in his arm sling. Both of you were walking around the city for sightseeing before returning to Akita tomorrow.

“No—! I…” you hesitate, exhaling a long sigh before you cool your head from the pent-up adrenaline from the frustration, anger, and excitement in the momentous game prior. “I was just… really, really worried, okay?”

“Don’t worry,” he drawls, his mouth filled with chips that Riko’s father had splurged on earlier. “My awrm is fine.” He casually moves around his wrapped arm to make his point, but you immediately pounce on him to stop him from possibly further straining it.

“Stop, stop, stop, stop!” You held down his arm to his side with both your hands while giving him a glare. “You’re gonna strain it even more! Just… take it easy! You already gave it your all in the game, right? So…” He merely frowns at you while chewing.

“I wazn gervin it my all, though,” he pouts, finishing his bite before he continues. “Right when I got fired up, that happened, remember?” He tried to move his slinged arm around to prove his point, but your glare stopped him from having any ideas.

“Okay, I see what you mean,” you say, giving him a consoling look but then let out a laugh when you see Murasakibara quite unbothered about his predicament despite what happened. “How about to make it all up, I’ll treat you to any snacks you’re craving for today?” Immediately, he turns to you with a childish sparkle.

“Really?” Honestly, how could you say no to his puppy eyes?

“Duh,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes. “Besides, I thought you were really cool on the court. Think of it as a reward for finally giving all your effort into something, and… maybe as a future incentive to work hard? Uh… Atsushi?” He’s already eyeing the takoyaki stand across the street, his mouth practically drooling at the vivid display of the finished product at the front of the cart. You must admit, the aroma of the dish was way too irresistible to ignore. But, upon looking at the menu pricings, you died a little on the inside. You always knew how pricey takoyaki was, but being Murasakibara’s personal wallet for today, it killed you a little bit. Just a bit.

“… Um, Atsushi,” you cough. “The prices are pretty daunting.”

“But Chibi-chin, I want takoyaki.”

W-well…” In seeing your hesitation, Murasakibara stares at you before he reaches out to ruffle your hair, something that shocks you out of your inner dilemma.

“Actually, I want konpeito, so let’s hurry Chibi-chin,” he says, reaching for your hand with his uninjured hand to tug you along. “They might run out if we don’t get going.” But before he walked away with your hand in his own, you immediately pulled back.

“W-Wait!” you protest. “I’m hungry, and um—takoyaki could be a sufficient meal for the both of us—” In seeing how vehement you were, Murasakibara only gives a look that says that he saw through your bluff.

“If it costs too much, it’s not a big deal,” he says with a languid shrug. You, on the other hand, begin to drag the giant to the takoyaki stand regardless with a gained odd sense of determination.

“It’s a special occasion! We always get konpeito anyways so… something different would be nice, don’t you think?” you mumble. “Besides! I can always earn money back! And I did say that I’ll treat you to anything you crave today. Hurry up, or the line will get long!”

———

“You take too long to eat these, Chibi-chin.”

“You—you literally shoved every single one of these in single bites!”

“But they were good.”

“Atsushi, you’re not savoring these delectable flavors! The octopus bits and seasonings and—”

“If you’re not gonna eat the rest, can I have them?” He’s incredibly fixated on the takoyaki stick you were waving around in trying to scold him, and you immediately draw them away from his clutches before he had any funny ideas.

“No way! Don’t you need to save your stomach for other food we’ll eat later?—Actually, never mind, I wouldn’t doubt that you’d have a bottomless stomach for these things…” You turn your attention back to your last takoyaki and sigh in amusement. “But I guess if you still want more I’ll let you have this last one. I can’t really afford another serving of takoyaki, so this should suffice…”

You really should’ve expected this from someone like Murasakibara, but he simply stood there with his mouth slightly open, with a finger pointing to it expectantly. He wanted you to feed it to him.

“Oh come on,” you groan. “You’re way too tall for me to reach up to your head! No way I’m gonna do something this embarrassing in public!”

“But you said you’ll treat me,” he says with a slight whine.

“W-What does that have to do with this?!”

“Food always tastes better for sure when you feed it,” he insists. “You said that you’ll let me eat anything I crave. No other vendor can replicate flavors the same way you can.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Besides, can’t do much with a broken arm, now can I, Chibi-chin?” He sends a smug look your way with a slight twinkle in his eyes, all the while slightly moving around said broken arm to sell his argument.

“I… wow,” you say, looking dumbstruck. “Fine… but at least… bend down a bit so I can reach you halfway, and make it quick.” But of course Murasakibara descends in the slowest pace possible, never once letting your eye contact leave his gaze as he somehow makes eating a single takoyaki somewhat risque. You stand there holding your stick, frozen like a statue as your face heats up faster than a vendor grill.

“Yup, that was really yummy~” he says, immediately standing up straight again and turning around to look for the next dish to feast on. Like he totally just didn’t seduce you a second ago. “Chibi-chin, we should just buy snacks from the store and go home. Walking around is tiring.”

“Uh…” you cough to recover yourself. “Yeah, whatever you wanna eat, Atsushi.”

“And you’ll feed me them too, right?”

“Y-You! You totally did that on purpose, you—”

“Hah? Dunno what you’re talking about, Chibi-chin.” He tugs your arm when he realized you stood there like a wide-eyed kid, completely red like a tomato. You would’ve believed his words if it wasn’t for that slight smirk he had when he turned back to look at your state. “Nothing tastes as good as you though.”

“A-Atsushi!”

“Hn, my muscles feel all sore from the game and walking around. Let’s hurry up so we can cuddle together.”

“Oh no, you don’t! We’re not gonna pretend like you didn’t just say what you said!… But, ahem, cuddling doesn’t sound like a bad idea… Wait! We can’t strain your arm! I’ll have to check it up once we get home!”

“… Do you really have to? That’s annoying… my arm’s fine.”

“If you let me check it, we can cuddle however much you want.”

“Really?”

“Duh, think of it as another reward for today!”

You suddenly get déjà vu from your own words, and you really wonder if you accidentally dug yourself another grave when Murasakibara shoots you a gleeful closed-eye smile. But you just can’t help it when it comes to him.