#and i finally did some dishes yesterday as soon as i could and they all got used up🫶🫶🫶

[paperbag1999]

three days ago when i was in isolation i had to beg my brother to make me dinner and it wasn’t ready until 9:30 (because he was playing elden ring). yesterday my mom didn’t finish dinner until 10 (because she was playing elden ring). today my mom said she was making dinner and at 7:30 i considered making my own food but opted out of it because well my mom is making dinner… dinner wasn’t ready until 9 there wasn’t much of it and it was barely palatable. i’m actually going mad and insane in this house!!!

[prael]

An Oral Agreement

QWER Magenta x male reader

Masterlist word count: 3,008 Kofi(donations/commissions)

She's equal parts infuriating and fascinating.

Magenta.

No last name. Or maybe that is her last name. Either way, that's all it said on the rental agreement and her bedroom door when you first moved in: Magenta. The letters were all lowercase like she was too cool for proper grammar. You know Magenta, in the Biblical sense (and it didn’t take long).

She's always in her room streaming or recording or...doing whatever it is social media influencers do when they aren't online. But she likes candles, fried rice and catcore aesthetics. She thinks pumpkin spice season starts September 1st and she loves reality TV. Not exactly the makings of a deep and spiritual connection.

Now, living with Magenta, well, it has its ups and downs.

There are some things that never get done around here without you doing them; she rarely cooks, which wouldn't bother you so much if she at least did dishes once in a while. It doesn't help that she takes long hot showers. In a house with only one bathroom, this can really put a cramp in your morning routine.

Magenta doesn't clean the place very often either. At first, you just let it go because everybody has their own ways of doing things, right? But after a few weeks of living together, you realised that she's just...not going to do it. Like ever. So then there's nothing for it but to either live in a constant state of messiness or bite the bullet yourself.

Sometimes you feel like you're not living with a roommate so much as providing lodging for some kind of freeloading spirit that passes through periodically.

When you first moved in, you were worried about what your roommate might think of you: would they be weirded out by your habits? Would they judge your taste in decorations? Would you get along? Would you have enough space for both of you?

Those fears melted away pretty quickly once you met her. You could tell from the moment she opened the door that day (and didn't even look up from her phone) that she didn’t care.

You soon learned that Magenta is messy but friendly. She stays up all night and sleeps during the day. She's everywhere online: Instagrammer, Tiktokker (is that what they call it?), live streamer or these days she’s even on the radio and TV. She doing something for one of those things right now, with her bedroom door closed and music playing faintly behind it.

You're standing in the kitchen, staring down her latest infringement. Now, these empty take-out boxes were here this morning when you left. They were also here last night, and yesterday afternoon, and...you get where this is going.

"Hey, you awake in there?!" you shout towards her bedroom but get no response.

With a sigh, you walk over to her door and knock. Twice. Then again, louder when you still get no response. Finally, you resort to pounding on it repeatedly until it suddenly swings open to reveal your roommate shouting, "What!?" You step back, slightly taken aback by how loudly she said that single word. Her eyes soften instantly, though when they land on you.

She looks good. Not even just in a 'good for someone who hasn't slept yet today' kind of way. Just straight-up hot. Magenta wears a faded pink crop top emblazoned with an anime character and little cut-off cotton shorts covered in cookie prints. The low waistband of the shorts hangs off her hips, exposing the start of a light purple thong that cuts diagonally across her hip bones.

"I think our apartment might get condemned if you don't clean sometime soon."

Your roommate leans against the door frame. She pushes some dark brown hair behind her ear as she says, "Can't you do it for me? Just this once?"

"Just this once?" you repeat, crossing your arms. Your lips curl into a smile as you ask back to her, "Can't you do it just this once?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm always reminding you to clean, and you never do it. So guess who does it? It's not the magical cleaning fairy—it's me."

Her eyes roll skyward so forcefully you imagine you can hear them squeaking in their sockets.

"Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?" she says. "This seems really petty."

"It's not petty," you protest. "I have stuff to do and I shouldn't have to keep picking up after my adult roommate." You say the word 'adult' laden with implications. She gets your meaning immediately. Her lips twist.

"oh, I get it," she says with a smirk. "I guess it's been a while since I gave you a little thank you. Well, I need to get this video finished, so could you maybe clean it up and come back here after?"

So there's the perks. Two of them actually, as she pulls up her pink crop top and flashes you what's beneath. A pair of purple lace bra cups strain to contain your roommate's ample endowment. Pale skin pours out from beneath them, flesh squeezing together into a deep cleavage that entices you closer even as you shake your head.

"You can't keep pulling tricks like this, Magenta," you say, trying desperately to hold onto your train of thought while also enjoying the view. It helps that you know those breasts intimately. Hell, you've worshipped those breasts. They've spilt around your hands, smothered your face and laid upon your thighs. You know what the soft warmth inside each cup feels like. And, God, they feel really fucking good.

"I really appreciate your help and everything," she says, her bottom lip suddenly pushing out into a cute pout that goes well beyond suggestive. "And I'd like to show you just how much I appreciate it..."

Your resolve lasts right up until Magenta runs a finger down one of her tits to tease along the edge of the lacy purple material. That's when you give up. There's no point in fighting anymore—she has won this battle (just like all others).

"Just go finish your work already," you finally say, letting out a sigh.

Magenta smiles and giggles, lowering her shirt. "Thanks. Love ya!"

With a wink, she slips back into her room. You stand alone for several seconds before shaking your head. Back to cleaning, then.

-

It's not exactly easy to focus on sorting the recycling into the correct bins when your roommate has just reminded you how nice her tits are. They're on your mind a lot, to be honest. More than they should be probably. Sometimes they're on your cock, though not as often as they should be. Probably.

You're counting your blessings that none of the neighbours are doing late-night recycling because then you'd have to explain why your face is red and your pants are bulging.

That doesn't stop the occasional glance towards your neighbour's house, where Mrs Kim likes to smoke on her front porch some nights. You think she smokes more than she should, but that's really none of your business. Her watching you from across the street, however, is very much your business, so you peek over your shoulder once in a while to check if she's spying. Again. Or still. Whatever.

One last box. The light outside is fading rapidly, but you can just barely make out that it comes from...the Greek place you love?

Oh. Oh no. Did she eat gyros and not bring you any? Damn, that girl knows how to be cruel!

When the recycling is finally squared away you dust off your hands. It's a symbolic gesture since all you've done is shove cardboard and glass into the right bins, but it makes you feel accomplished nonetheless.

Back in the apartment and lock the door behind you.

"There you are. Where have you been?"

"The bins, have you ever seen them before?" You mock while still fiddling with the lock chain.

"That was quick," comes her response. Your eyes follow the sound of her voice. Magenta is lying upside-down on the couch. She swings her feet lazily in the air while looking at something on her phone. Her dark hair cascades nearly to the floor. Those short shorts mean you can see most of her long legs. Then there's the curve of her hip, the crease of her thigh... "Get over here."

It's a rare occasion that Magenta voluntarily puts her phone down, yet she does just that as you walk over. The closer you get, the more enticing her position becomes: laying across the couch, head tipped backwards off the cushions to watch you approach her.

"So," she says. Her fingertips brush over the exposed skin of her belly. The fingers trace lines up and across her abdomen, moving between the edge of her shorts and her top. The motion catches your eye—and she knows it. "I owe you, don't I?" Her eyelids flutter innocently. Or rather, far less than innocently.

"For today? Yeah. Definitely." You clear your throat and try again, "For quite a few days, actually."

"Quite a few," she echoes in agreement. Her hand continues to crawl upward until it reaches the peak of her breasts rising beneath her faded pink crop top. The movement presses the supple skin together in a way that has you standing right in front of her before you even realize you've walked over.

She pushes them hard together before letting them settle back to normal. Gravity spreads them apart, flesh pouring across her chest from the tightly gathered fabric keeping them barely contained. She reaches out over her head, to you, and grabs you by the belt buckle. Pulls you forward until you are stood over her. Even though she's upside down, she makes such effortless work of unbuckling the leather strap that you barely notice. One second it's on; the next it's flapping loose.

It takes only two sharp tugs to force your pants and boxers down past your knees. Magenta doesn't waste any time reaching out to touch your cock, gently running her hands over it until she can wrap her entire hand around the warm shaft and pull you until you fall to your knees. Her head hangs right in front your your length, and you see the teasing sparkle in her eye even upside down.

Her hot breath hits the skin of your bare cock. Lips press a series of soft, wet kisses down from your tip towards your balls. Then back up again, trailing even more tiny pecks that leave your skin tingling. You let your cock nudge against her cheek, feeling it slide along the smooth skin.

With both hands wrapped around your cock, Magenta holds your tip right in front of her mouth. Her tongue sticks out from between her lips, slowly, methodically lapping circles around the crown of your cock.

"Oh, God," you mutter, and you need to hold onto something, anything. First, it's the couch, then it's her tits.

Your hand lands heavily atop the nearest swell of flesh and squeezes tight, pushing it further out of her crop top. She hums approvingly at the groping and wraps her lips around your cockhead. Suckles sweetly. Slurps noisily until spit pools at the corner of her stretched lips.

She lets gravity help guide your cock into her waiting mouth. The further you slip inside, the more she relaxes her jaw to accept you. But then she reaches up and pulls on your hips. You glide up against her grateful tongue. Until her nose meets your stomach. She gags. It's so fucking lewd.

The whole thing makes you squeeze her chest harder. So big in your palm and yet somehow always bigger than you remember. You forget sometimes just how incredible these tits are. When they bounce in a video she's recorded, you remember—but never quite how heavy they are when you hold them; the way they give to your grasp in exactly the right amount; or the way her nipple puckers just slightly as it stiffens beneath your kneading grip.

"You're so sexy like this," you say.

The compliment elicits an appreciative groan from Magenta. Her head moves with your hips now, bobbing to meet each thrust, spit dripping down her cheeks. The messiness of the sloppy blowjob matches her other personality traits frighteningly well.

With her head pinned and her arms on you, you're free to pull up her shirt and expose her. The dirty minx has taken off her bra, so the expanse of her milky skin greets you. You cup them in each palm, feeling the heft of them, squeezing them greedily. They push back, moulding into the shape of your desire, and she moans, a low guttural note vibrating right through your length.

Her body writhes beneath your attention. Her thighs spread outwards, feet rolling at the ankle in time with each gently guided thrust into her throat. Fingers squeeze you, scratching lightly at the skin above your ass to encourage you deeper inside her hungry maw. Deeper into her throat until she chokes—

You let up, panting, admiring the sight of her stretched out for your viewing pleasure. Her eyes flutter open, looking up at you from her upside-down position. The intensity in them draws you in again.

"Oh shit," you groan as you drive into her, plunging your cock balls deep until her purple-painted nails dig into the small of your back. You pump faster, lost in the warm embrace of her greedy sucking.

Magenta squirms beneath you, whining and groaning and bucking, begging you for more. Her cunt must be throbbing with anticipation. Poor thing wants your cum. You can tell.

You want her tits.

She gasps when you fully withdraw from her mouth. Her face is a fucking mess of saliva and smudged makeup. Before she can question you, you reposition yourself in front of her, straddling her beautiful face as you lower your rigid length between her breasts.

She's quick to pick up what you're putting down. With both hands pressing the creamy flesh of her boobs inward, she creates a tunnel for you to slide your dick into.

It feels as good as it looks. Soft pressure envelops your slick length, wrapping around the sensitive skin and creating a delightful sleeve for you to hump into. You can't get enough.

As soon as you hit a good pace, fucking your roommate's chest hard and fast, she starts giggling.

"What?" you ask.

"It tickles." Her laugh is breathy but not as loud as it usually is. "Keep going."

So you do. Thrust after thrust you plunge deeper, drawing more and more of yourself into the valley between her perfect tits. The more you use her, the further she parts her legs that run up the back of the sofa. Soft thighs splayed for nothing but display. Then, just as you start to admire them, she clenches them together. Your eyes trace down the pale skin until they arrive at her crotch where the bottoms of her cookie-patterned shorts have ridden up against her wet slit. She's gyrating her hips in all sorts of directions and rubbing herself against the material in some attempt to satiate her growing needs.

The soft flesh of her midriff jiggles between the thrusting into her tits and the twisting of her hips below. You can't stop staring. Fuck. How does this girl have every single curve?

At first, you try holding back—you want this to last longer. But after a few seconds, you realize you can't fight this feeling. Not when you've got such a good view. And certainly not with her nipples so hard under the press of your thumbs. She arches up when you pinch them, and you know you're done for.

And then, as if she can feel it by the way you're thrusting, she begins to coo and beg under you. She knows she's getting you close, and she wants it. Bad.

"Cum on me," she coaxes sweetly, the words barely audible over the slapping sounds. "I've been so bad, baby. You deserve to paint my body."

That's all it takes. That final little plea. Your eyes roll back, your hips snap forward and your cock explodes. Thick ropes over her body, the first reaching her thighs before you adjust your aim and finish across the plane of her belly. Soft curves take your load while she encourages you through soft, little pleasured mewls. You may have got some on her shorts, but you paint her stomach white before pulling up and jerking the final drops onto her chest.

"Mmmm, messy boy," Magenta laughs breathlessly as your cum drips down her curves. She lays there beneath you, her smile wide and wickedly innocent, one hand slowly running circles over the sticky mess on her tummy, smearing it across her skin.

After a few seconds of panting and trying to gather yourself, you climb off of her and sit back against the couch. She turns so her head rests in your lap, facing your spent and dripping length. Magenta teases you still by using her own fingertip to collect your seed and place it across her lips, then licking them clean while making sure you're watching. And fuck are you ever.

"So, about my room," she purrs, eyes twinkling mischievously up at you.

"What about it?"

"Well... It needs cleaning, and I was thinking—"

"No," you feign protest, knowing you've already agreed. "Just clean it yourself." Her negotiation will come next. You can see it on her lips. "I'm not doing it."

Magenta leans up and whispers, "But you might change your mind if you find out what's waiting for you beneath my shorts."

That damn purple thong, still visible at her waistband, calls you toward her like a beacon. "What's beneath your shorts?"

Her laugh is playful. A little shrug as her fingers toy at the hem of the garment in question. "Agree to clean my room and you’ll find out."

[pomefioredove]

Hello! I hope you feel better soon :) remember to drink lots of water!!

Could I request a one-shot with Idia, where reader brings him a meal they cooked themselves since he hasn't had much to eat in the past few days? (Sorry if this is too vague I've just been having thoughts of taking care of Idia)

no this is perfect! <3 actually just what I needed to write rn

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ you have that effect on him

type of post: fic characters: idia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, food, mentions of eating and not eating, depression👍, actually cute, reader is not there much sorry,,,

One breath in. One breath out.

Idia has been counting the snicks and scorches on the ceiling all weekend.

They're mostly his. Haywire robots and Ortho mishaps, which he always takes the blame for. One dark smudge is from his shoe, when there was a bug on the ceiling and his brother was out of the room.

Each like a star in his own sky, memories of the days he could get out of bed.

This is not one of them.

Nor was yesterday. Or the day before that.

Just one of those weeks.

One breath in, one breath out. Idia feels painfully aware of the rise and fall of his chest.

He'd sent Ortho on some pointless sidequest for the day. He needed to be alone- well, not really. He just didn't want his brother to worry about him.

He gives up sleep, and lies on his side instead, opening his phone to doomscroll again. The harsh blue light makes his eyes water in the dark of his room.

It feels like he's been locked in an unskippable cutscene all week.

What would you think of him if you could see him now?

He doesn't want to picture it. Idia feels pathetic enough as a cringey, awkward, social reject, even if you like him that way.

There's no going up. When he hits rock bottom, he starts digging.

Knock.

Idia cringes at the sound. He was hoping to be asleep before Ortho came back.

Knock, knock.

"Come in,"

But he doesn't. Idia finally looks up, at the door. Ortho will give the compulsory three knocks, then wait for a verbal command, and then come in. He was programmed that way. He usually talks, too.

But, nothing.

Not Ortho, then.

Idia cozies himself back up in bed, dressing himself in blankets as if they were... well, a shroud.

Another hour goes by. At nine PM sharp, Ortho's melodious knocks, his happy chiming, and the light from the hall follow.

"Find that thing?" Idia asks. He can't even remember what he asked Ortho to get.

"Yep! And guess what! You have a present!"

Psh. Wut? Idia looks up from his phone.

Ortho hovers to the edge of the bed and hands Idia something lukewarm, in a covered glass dish.

"Whatsit?"

His brother giggles. "Can't you guess? You don't even need a scanner for it!"

Idia can't help but crack a smile at that, and he slowly sits up. He peels off the lid of the dish. It's soup.

"Did you make this?" he asks, inspecting the lukewarm dish.

Ortho gives a negative chime. "It was by your door when I returned. Would you like me to heat it up for you?"

"Uh..." Idia hums. "...Yeah. That'd be good."

Within a few minutes, it's back in his lap, hot again. Idia cautiously takes a bite. It's rich, filling, and good, clearly homemade. Not some cheap junk out of a can. One spoonful is more filling than any of the garbage he'd eaten in the past week.

"Your hormonal levels and body language indicate that it's satisfactory. Do you know who left it?" Ortho asks.

Idia shrugs. "Someone came by earlier, but I didn't get the door. Who'd leave me a home cooked meal, anyway?"

He eats some more. It's hard not to enjoy himself, if only a little.

"Well..." Ortho says. "...I may have mentioned to the Prefect that you've been unwell."

Idia almost does a spit-take. "WHAT?! WHA- WH?! This is- th-"

"Calm, Idy! I just said you weren't feeling well! They must have thought you were sick!"

He almost collapses on his bed. His hands are shaking. How humiliating. And he already looked lame enough as it was.

One breath in, one breath out.

"They came all the way out here..." he mutters, stirring the soup around the dish.

"They must really care about you, Idy!"

Idia's face goes bright red. "Don't say it like that..." he mumbles.

But he'd be lying if he wasn't secretly hoping that was true. The thought of you having made something like this just because he felt bad... well... it's a nice one.

You care.

Idia makes a mental note to send you a DM later. As thanks. And to ask if you have any soup left. It's pretty good...

Maybe the promise of you coming over will motivate him to get out of bed.

You have that effect on him.

[wearebarca]

7. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 7

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 6,4k

A/N: Feedback is always nice. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy

Rosalie knew before she opened her eyes that she wasn’t in her bed. The stiffness in her neck was indication enough, along with the slightly rough feeling of the wool blanket she kept as a decoration on her couch. An unknown alarm was blaring from her phone on the coffee table. Suddenly, the memories from the night before  started to come back to her. How good it was to be wrapped in the footballer’s arms, how warm and safe it felt. She was probably the one who set an alarm to make sure the photographer wouldn’t be late for work.  The simple thought put a smile on the woman’s face.

 A quick look around her kitchen told her that most of the dishes were put away and a cup of coffee along with a note were waiting for her on the counter. 

“ I have to bring Nala home before training. You looked too peaceful to wake up. Thank you for yesterday, I really needed it. See you at training bonita.”

Ale

The photographer took the note and pinned it on her fridge. Every time her eyes strayed to it while getting ready, she could feel butterflies fill her stomach. The brunette hopped quickly in the shower and changed into her day clothes before heading out for the training center. 

The first thing she noticed upon entering her office was the small brown paper bag which seemed to be the source of the delicious smell lingering in the room. There could only be one person responsible for such a gesture. The fluttering feel from the morning came back full swing as the photographer pulled out a fresh pastry from the bag. 

Her morning was quite slow. She had tasked some of the junior photographers to attend training to allow her to finish answering some emails and send the contend Martina was waiting on for the next social media campaign. Rosalie’s morning was surprisingly productive considering the stiffness in her neck. The only thing that pulled her out of her work induced trance was the repeated buzz of her phone. When the device kept vibrating after a good five minutes, the brunette finally checked her screen to see what was going on. She was surprised to see the nicknames of several girls from the team appear on her screen, with the first notification being “Capi has added you to the chat”. Most were welcoming the photographer to the group and the rest were discussing the team bonding night organised by Ingrid that would most likely take place two weeks from now. 

Deciding she would read everything later, she left her phone on her desk and focused on finishing a few tasks before lunch. When she arrived in the cafeteria, she was immediately called by Mapi and Ingrid to join them and the rest of their group. The brunette grabbed her food and took the last available seat, which happened to be next to the Spanish captain. 

She was leaning with her elbows on the table, her hands holding her chin up and listening intently to what Patri was saying. Only, as soon as the brunette took her seat, her focus shifted. 

« Hola, » she said with a lazy smile stretching on her lips. Patri was aware of their budding friendship, but so far had not been aware of a deeper connection blooming between the captain and the photographer. Now, with her friend who had seemingly forgotten about her in order to engage in a conversation with the Canadian, it was clear that something more was happening.

“Did you sleep ok?”

“Yes, thank you, I didn’t even realize that you left this morning.” The photographer said a little embarrassed by how hard she was sleeping. They were leaning close to each other in order to keep a certain level of privacy in a table filled with their friends and colleagues. “ How did you sleep? Can’t imagine my couch would provide the best sleep.”

“I slept good actually, but I can’t say it’s because of your sofa no.” She said with a smile. 

Patri, still amazed by what was unfolding in front of her, tried to catch Pina’s attention by elbowing her in the ribs. “¿qué es?¿qué es?”

“¿desde cuando?”

“no sé” Pina said, watching the two women converse in front of her. “tengo curiosidad por saber que esta pasando”

“Le preguntaré a algunas de las chicas sobre esto.” Patri said, getting up to bring back her tray. 

The week passed on quickly for everyone. The team was preparing for their game next wednesday and the media team was working extra hard to provide the fans with fun content with their favourite players. Rosalie was able to get out of her office more, and take back her place as the main photographer present during the training sessions. More than ever, Rosalie was appreciating the little routine she had formed, but now, there was a new element present in her daily life. Every lunch, she would spend it with the team in the cafeteria, more precisely with a certain blond captain. 

As they grew closer, the rest of the team noticed the growing chemistry. With the realization came the teasing, which Alexia shot down pretty quickly. Even if these girls were her family, she did not want her private life to be the subject of discussion among them. But even with her efforts, the whole team was soon aware of the clear interest the women had for each other. 

Even with the thought of the photographer in her mind, Alexia was still dead focused on training. Her comeback after her injury had not been an easy road and the pressure of getting back to her old standards was a heavy load on her shoulders. Her appointment with the physio had been full of warnings against overtraining and focusing on a slower but safer road to full recovery. 

Alexia knew all of this. She knew that overworking herself would only slow her down in the end. But she was stubborn. The guilt she felt for her club, her teammates, the fans, who had yet to see the return of their queen, was simply too strong. 

She wasn’t surprised when Monday , two days before the game, she felt some discomfort in her knee. It wasn’t pain, yet, but it was enough to allow fear to grasp at her mind. 

Rosalie could see it from the sidelines, the anxiety slowly creeping in the blonde’s eyes. She was slower than normal, running through the drills with a carefulness she hadn’t seen her use before. She wasn’t the only one who had noticed the change in intensity. Jonatan soon after called for the captain who immediately ran to him, making a tremendous effort to hide the slight limp she had developed in the course of the session. 

Their exchange was fast. Alexia clearly seemed to want to finish this session and was arguing her case with as much intensity as she would with a ref during a game. Jonatan stayed strong, even with the captain towering over him. 

At this point, their argument had pulled the attention of several of the girls. Rosalie lowered her camera, not wanting to breach what clearly was a conversation meant to stay between player and coach. When she realized that Martina failed to show the same respect as her, she positioned herself between the pair and the head of media’s phone. 

“ I doubt this is the entertainment the fans want.” She said with a raised eyebrow. She had heard from the players how Martina could sometimes be invasive but she hasn’t seen her cross the line just yet. 

A dry laugh escaped Martina’s lips as she finally lowered her phone. “Si, si, you are right.” She said as she moved farther on the sidelines. Rosalie turned back around just in time to see Alexia storm off the pitch, leaving a discouraged Jonatan behind. 

“ Thank you Rosa.” Mapi said, approaching the photographer. “ Ale would have been livid if this came out in one of her instagram stories.” 

“Would she really?”

“ She has before.” Mapi said with bitterness in her tone. 

“ I’m starting to understand why Alexia is so wary of the media team.” Rosalie made a move towards the tunnel but was stopped by a hand on her wrist. 

“I know you want to make sure she’s alright, but for now Ale needs a minute to process.” Mapi said with a sad smile. Rosalie knew the Spanish woman was right, and she could not just leave practice to go comfort the captain. 

“ Oui, oui I understand.” She said, picking back up her camera. The rest of the practice seemed to drag on to no end for the photographer who wanted nothing more than to see how the blonde was doing. 

Once training was over, Rosalie learned that Alexia had been sent to the physios to assess the situation. Not wanting to disturb the professional, she went back to her office to work in the editing of the pictures she had taken. 

Once again, her afternoon seemed a lot slower than usual, and for one of the first times since she had started this job, Rosalie left her office at the same time as the rest of the staff. 

Lucy and Keira could not believe their eyes when they saw the Canadian walk out of the building. 

“Are you feeling alright Frenchy?” Keira asked, almost worried for her friend.  

“Oui oui, I just thought finishing early would hurt once in a while.”

“Who are you?” Lucy asked, grabbing the younger woman by the shoulders. 

“Non mais voyons lâches moi.” The brunette said, laughing loudly. 

“Wanna come by for dinner? We could watch a movie or something.” Keira asked, happy to finally have the opportunity to finally spend some time with her best friend. 

“Sure! That’s a great idea!” They all walked together in the parking lot, discussing what they would watch, when a specific dark grey cupra caught the attention of the photographer. 

“Isn’t that Alexia’s car?”

“Yeah, I thought she left at the same time as the rest of us.” Lucy said, checking her watch. At this time, the medical staff had already left and no one was left in the gym. 

“I hope she’s ok.” Rosalie said as she came to a stop half way to her car. Lucy and Keira could practically see the dilemma forming in the younger woman’s head. They knew that she would not ditch them, even if her heart was telling her to go see the Catalonian.

“Go.” Lucy decided for her. Rosalie sent a thankful look towards the couple as she turned around and almost dashed to the training center. 

She let her instincts guide her to the pitch, where she found the blond sitting alone on a ball. She  took a seat next to her. They stayed silent for a while, until the blonde was ready to talk 

“I am not playing on Wednesday.” The blonde said, her gaze not leaving the pitch. “They want to prevent further deterioration.”

The brunette shuffled closer to the footballer. “Can you still train?”

“ In the gym, yes, and light drills.” She said sadly. 

Rosalie took a second to take in the footballer's sad features. With her foot, she kicked the ball slightly under Alexia, just hard enough to make her lose balance and slide to the floor. As soon as the ball was free, Rosalie dashed down the pitch to the nearest goal and sent the ball in the top right corner. When she turned back towards the blond, she was still sitting on the floor with a very cute and confused expression. 

“Come on! What are you gonna do about that?” The photographer yelled arms in the air with what Alexia thought was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. 

“Are you scared of an amateur, La Reina?” Rosalie knew she had her now. Alexia got up and slowly jogged to the goal to retrieve the ball. She kicked it in the brunette’s direction and stood a few feet away from her. 

“ I just know that you  are no amateur Rosalia.” She said with a soft smile. 

As soon as the brunette touched the ball, Alexia’s whole demeanour changed. Her face was the epitome of focus and her whole body tensed, revealing her taut muscles. The sight was intimidating to say the least, but Rosalie was not going to let the opportunity to show off a little pass. 

She dashed forward, ball at her feet, pulling all the tricks she could think of. She was fast, but Alexia seemed to be able to predict her every move and soon enough, the photographer ended up on her ass, no ball in sight. 

A loud laugh was heard behind her. She turned around to see Alexia with one foot on the ball, seemingly trying very hard to keep her composure. 

“ You’re fast, and skilled, but a tiny bit predictable.” She said, offering a hand to pull the photographer up. 

“Rematch.” Was all the photographer said as she took the ball from the blond and positioned herself once again. Alexia smiled at the brunette’s eagerness. She had found someone as competitive as her. 

They were at it for  almost an hour, with Rosalie successfully scoring a grand total of seven times against Alexia who blocked at least twelve attempts.

 Rosalie, unsatisfied with these statistics, almost begged the footballer for one last attempt. Whoever won this, would win the whole game. 

“ I think I have you now Reina.” Rosalie said with a cheeky smile. 

“ Don’t get so cocky now bonita, I won’t go easy on you.” The nickname made the photographer blush furiously, but she refused to let it distract her. She finally launched her attack , but Alexia’s response was so fast Rosalie wasn’t even able to register what was happening. She was left standing alone in the field while Alexia was already halfway across the pitch, sending the ball in a perfect arc in the opposite goal. 

Rosalie sat on the grass and let herself fall on her back dramatically, arms in a cross. Alexia retrieved the ball and ran back to the photographer, flopping down almost on top of her. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, but she made no move to get out from under the blond. 

“ I think it is safe to say that I won.” Alexia said, still laughing. No answer came from the brunette, who was too mesmerized by the blond’s eyes and the feeling of her weight on top of her. 

Her smile softened as her eyes shifted to the captain’s lips. Alexia seemed to finally notice the position they were in, as well as how little space separated the two. She could feel the rapid pulse of the photographer, which matched her own. The pull was magnetic, and every second passing seemed to eat away at the woman’s resolve. 

They did not know who reached for who first, their movements almost synchronized. 

Her lips were even softer than Rosalie had imagined. They fit perfectly on her own and it felt like something had just clicked. She could feel the tension in the captain’s body slowly fade away, as if she was melting in their embrace. The shift of weight brought the delicious feeling of the footballer’s body moving on her, which pulled a small moan from the brunette. 

The sound caught Alexia’s attention. She smiled into the kiss, which made the smaller woman pull away slightly. When she saw the happy expression on the footballer’s face, she smiled and angled her head away, embarrassed by her body’s reaction to the blond. Alexia’s hand came up and caressed the photographer’s cheek before diving back in for a slow kiss. The contrast between Alexia’s callous hands and her soft lips made the photographer’s head spin. 

They pulled away when oxygen became an issue. Alexia thought, as she looked at the smaller woman who’s pupils were blown and lips swollen from their kiss, she realized that she needed to see more of this blissed out version of the photographer. 

Rosalie’s expression changed, mistaking Alexia’s silence for regret. “I’m so sorry I didn’t want to overstep I’m…” she was interrupted by the feeling of the blonde’s lips back on her. 

“ Don’t apologize, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” She said with a smile. They got back up and retrieved their bags. None of them uttered a word as they walked back to their car, content in the comfortable silence. Alexia stopped next to the photographer’s car, holding the door open for Rosalie. 

“Thank you,” Alexia said with a shy smile. “I needed this.”

“Which one, the game or the kiss?”

“I think it’s safe to say both.” She said with a grin. 

Rosalie had a love-hate relationship with her phone. She liked the convenience of having a decent camera always with her, but she hated the constant buzzing and being bombarded by text and notifications. She kept her phone on silent outside of work hours.

 If she had it on, she would have seen the notification of a new instagram story on the club’s account. She would have seen that she had been tagged in it, along with Alexia’s account. She would have seen the massive wave of messages flooding her dms. 

Instead, it was in her bed , when she reached for her phone in order to set her alarm, that she realized exactly how invasive the head of social media could really be. 

The video wasn’t too bad really. It captured the moment of the photographer’s fall after she had lost to the captain and Alexia toppling on her a few moments later. To anyone else, it simply looked like two friends having fun after a long day at work but to the women’s football community, it was a lot more. 

Emotions flooded the brunette all at once. Never would she have thought that her privacy would be so easily exposed to the world. She never wanted to be thrusted into the spotlight, and all this attention made all the color drain from her face. 

The feeling only grew much worse when Rosalie thought of Alexia. She knew how the blonde felt about her life being exposed to the public eye. 

Rosalie didn’t sleep that night, and the consequences were very visible the next morning when she pulled up at the training center. She had ignored all of Ingrid and Mapi’s numerous calls and texts, and only answered a thumbs up to Lucy and Keira’s worried messages. 

For the brunette, it was impossible to think about anything else than Alexia’s reaction to all this. The facility was quieter than usual, due to the fact that Rosalie had opted to arrive later to avoid crossing paths with anyone. Surprisingly, Ingrid was sitting in the lobby, and got up as soon as she saw the Canadian enter. 

Rosalie froze and didn’t move when the Norwegian made a move to hug her. «How are you? »

« Worried.» the photographer said in a small voice. « My phone won’t stop buzzing. »

The raven hair girl tightened her hold before letting go and grabbing her arm to start guiding the brunette down the corridor. 

 « The media team and the coaches have called a meeting to deal with the situation. Alexia is there as well. »

« How is she? »

« Very angry. » Ingrid said. She panicked a little as she saw her friend’s face fall. « Not at you Rosy! She’s in this state mainly because this time, Martina dragged someone dear to her in this mess. »

Rosalie blushed slightly at that and stayed silent for the rest of the walk. They arrived in front of a room where loud and rapid Spanish conversations could be heard through the closed door. Ingrid sent an encouraging look to the photographer before pushing her inside the room. 

Inside was a long table where Jonatan, Sara, Marcelo, Martina, Alexia and another man she did not recognize were all sitting. The room went quiet as the Canadian entered. Jonatan got up and smiled at the nervous photographer. 

« Bon dia Rosalie, take a seat. » he said motioning to the open seat next to Sara, which happened to be right across Alexia. Just like Ingrid had said, the captain looked livid, anger overtaking all of her features, making her look cold and almost Dangerous. 

« Hey, I’ll translate if it gets too fast.” Rosalie sent a grateful nod her way, but when the conversation started back, they had switched to English to make sure the photographer would follow. 

“ As I was saying, it is simply unacceptable to use the player’s personal life to promote the club. Let’s not forget that this video was taken outside of training hours and I am certain none of the girls gave their consent to post this.” Jonatan said, turning to Rosalie to confirm his statement. 

“ I never gave my consent, nor was even aware of being filmed during that time.” She said in a shaky voice. 

“ But you were at the training centre. That makes it ok to film since what happens inside these walls is club business.” Martina said, clearly trying to justify her actions. “ It was a wholesome moment that attracted a lot of attention to the club.” She added. 

Every word coming out of the woman’s mouth seemed to chip away at Alexia’s patience. She decided that she had been silent long enough and it was time to show just how angry she truly was. 

“ Attention? You exposed us for attention? You forcefully pulled Rosalie at the forefront of an obsessed fan base who’s been harassing us for the last 12 hours, for attention?” She said, the sound of her voice getting louder and more aggressive with every word. 

“You don’t realize the impact your actions have on other people. As players, we know that we are constantly being watched and that our lives are but a source of entertainment for others. But Rosalia never asked for any of this. She doesn't deserve this violation of her privacy.” She added, sending a look in the photographer’s way. One that greatly reassured the brunette. Alexia was trying to protect her. 

“We are tired of the abuse the head of social media  has perpetuated and the team, along with the coaches, ask management to take action against the perpetrators.” Alexia sat back in her chair. The rest of the table was silent, waiting to see who would dare speak after Alexia’s declaration. 

Finally, the man Rosalie did not know coughed a little and spoke in spanish, too fast for Rosalie to be able to understand properly. 

“He said that from now on, Marcelo would be acting as head of social media and that every post Matina would prepare would have to be approved beforehand.” Sara whispered to the brunette. She turned just in time to see Martina’s face fall and Alexia’s smirk appear. 

“There is still the matter of the video itself.” Marcelo said, pulling out his computer. “Millions of people have already seen it. Taking it down now would only attract more attention to it.” He said, turning his screen so they could all see the statistics. 

“ The response is mainly positive and Alexia told me that the messages she’s been receiving are mostly positive.” The new head of socials turned towards the photographer. “ What about you?”

“I haven’t read anything really, but none of my notifications stood out.” She said pulling out her phone and opening the app for the first time since the night before. 

“ So it seems that for now, most people see this as the friendship we all know you two have. This is good. I think that the best course of action would be to leave it up, and simply continue our posting habits as usual, but featuring the other players more.” He said with confidence. 

“ We need to give the fans something else to focus on. We can post a fun interview from media day today along with an update on our injured players.” The solution seemed like a good  plan to the rest of the staff who all agreed and stood up. The man Rosalie had yet to know the name walked out first, followed closely by Martina who looked dead set on trying to explain her point of view. The fact that she seemed incapable of understanding what she had done was wrong baffled the brunette. She really did not regret her actions and Rosalie was starting to think that her consequences weren’t harsh enough. 

From the corner of her eye, the photographer saw Alexia abruptly stand up and bolt out of the room. Her instinct told her to follow, and she was glad she did because she arrived just in time to see Alexia trap Martina against the wall. 

“¿Viste algo más anoche?” She asked in a low, menacing voice. Her tone gave Rosalie chills, and she didn’t know if it was because of fear or something else. 

“No, me fui justo después, lo juro.” Martina said, visibly shaken by the taller woman’s action. Alexia released her and stormed out towards the locker room. When Rosalie passed her, she sent a strange look her way, as if she was trying to see something that would have evaded her keen snooping skills. 

Her gaze made the photographer feel uncomfortable as she quickened her steps. She pushed the door of the locker room and found Alexia, head in her hands, sitting at her cubicle. 

“Ale…” At the sound, the captain’s gaze met her own and Rosalie saw for the first time how Alexia truly felt about the whole ordeal. Fear and panic was visible in her hazel eyes as she stood up to pace around the room. 

“You shouldn’t be in here.” She said, eyes to the floor. “If someone sees…”

“Everyone is on the pitch, it's ok.” Rosalie could see Alexia getting agitated , so she decided to take a seat in the closet cubicle to her, on the opposite side of the room. 

“I knew this would happen. It’s always the same thing with your team.” She said, still pacing.

“My team?” Rosalie said incredulously. 

“Si, you can’t stop putting your nose in other’s lives and it’s hell for the rest of us.” Alexia said, stopping in her tracks to look at the brunette. 

Rosalie was too stunned to speak. Her expression was a mix of hurt and sadness that broke the captain’s heart as soon as she saw it. 

Rosalie knew that Alexia was angry and it was this anger that pushed her to say these things, but she couldn’t help how bad she felt after hearing it. 

“ I thought you knew I wasn’t like this. I would never breach your privacy like this.” 

“ I know, I know.” Alexia said, trying to calm down. “Maybe we should just be colleagues,” she said in a small voice, incapable of looking the photographer in the eyes. She knew that if she did, she would cross the room and take the smaller woman in her arms, apologize and tell her that everything would be alright. 

“Is that what you really want?” 

“Si.” 

“Then there’s nothing I can do but respect your decision.” Rosalie said in a sad voice. She turned around and walked out of the locker room, leaving Alexia alone. 

As soon as the brunette left, Alexia sat back down. She felt like her legs weren’t able to carry her anymore. Her hands were shaking and a heavy feeling lingered in her heart. 

She knew that what she had just done was cold, but it was the only way she could protect her from the scrutiny of the public eye. She knew Rosalie was like her, a very private person and the moment the photographer crossed the threshold of the confederation room, she could see from how small she looked, how much this was affecting her. Distancing herself from the French-Canadian was the only option to keep Rosalie, and herself, out of the spotlight. 

When she finally mustered up the strength to get out on the pitch, her eyes immediately scanned the field for the family silhouette of the brunette. She only found one of the other photographers and the rest of the media team. Thankfully, Martina was nowhere in sight. 

Alexia walked to the huddle in the center of the pitch and took a spot next to Lucy. The woman turned around and sent a glare her way, almost frightening the captain. The rest of practice was hell for the midfielder. She made mistake after mistake, missing targets on her passes and unable to complete plays that she usually had no difficulty doing.    

She simply could not stop thinking about how it all went down this morning. She knew that it would be hard to stay away from the photographer, especially now that the feeling of the woman’s soft lips was ingrained in her mind, but she had not planned feeling this sort of withdrawal so soon. 

As soon as the photographer reached her office, the tears that were threatening to fall ran down her cheeks. It was all too much at the same time for the woman. Her phone blowing up with various messages from fans, her anger towards the former head of social media, Alexia’s rejection and the workload that came a few days before a match, was simply more than what she could handle emotionally. 

So Rosalie did what she always did when it became too much. She buried herself in her work and training. She spent her whole day barricaded in her office, arranging the photoshoot schedule for the next month and working on the fan project. She skipped lunch and stayed well after the last staff member had left. She ignored the messages from Lia and Leah who had seen the story and wanted to know if their friend was alright, and sent a quick answer to Lucy, who she had briefly talked to before hiding in her office. She needed to be alone, isolate herself from the world for a bit. 

Having the match here in Barcelona came as a relief for Rosalie who didn’t have to take the team bus or interact with anyone before the actual match. She had tasked the other photographers to take the arrival pictures and was able to receive and edit them in her office while everyone was preparing. 

With Alexia on the bench, Rosalie found her job sligh harder than normal due to the piercing gaze she could feel on her back. It took every ounce of self control to not turn and meet her gaze head on. She knew that if she did, she would forgive the blond for the harsh words she had said. So she focused on her job, and did not linger on the pitch once the team secured the win. 

The rest of the week stayed more or less the same for the French-Canadian. Wake up, run, breakfast, work, strength training, sleep then repeat.  She had declined coffee with Ingrid and Mapi and had yet to decide if she was going to show up at the team bonding night, which was scheduled in 3 days. 

All week she could see, as well as the rest of the team, that Alexia was clearly not in the right mindset. Her temper was short and she easily lost her patience when training wasn’t going the way she wanted. The whole team had come to fear the blonde and simply did not know how to approach their captain. 

When it became clear that Alexia’s mood wasn’t going to change anytime soon. Mapi decided that it was time to have a talk. Which is why, when the midfielder was sulking all alone on the sidelines, she was swiftly grabbed by the jersey and dragged in the stands.

 From their spot, they could see the rest of the girls doing drills and for a moment, Alexia was able to take a breath. She had loved watching her teammates practice when she herself could not play. She used to close her eyes and visualize herself back in the field. But for now, she was focused on the reason why her friend had dragged her in the stands in the middle of training. 

The tattooed woman stayed silent while she kept looking at the blonde in the eyes. 

“What?”

“You are going to talk to me now.”

“What about?” Alexia knew exactly what Mapi was hinting at, but she still tried to act confused. 

“ You know exactly what I’m talking about, now spill.” Mapi said with a stern expression. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s the same thing every time any of us gets close to someone. We get exposed and our whole lives are scrutinized. I don’t want this and I am pretty sure she doesn’t want that either.”

“You are scared.”

“No.”

“Alexia, you can’t let this dictate your life.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t be distracted by all this. I can’t have people think football is not my priority.”

“They won’t. Ale you are human, you are allowed to have a life outside of football. We all saw you with her. You haven’t been this happy in a long time.” Mapi said, trying to reason with her friend. She could see that beneath this facade, the woman was simply scared to allow herself to thrive outside of football.

“It’s too late now, she probably doesn’t want anything to do with me anyway.” Alexia said.

“ I know for a fact that isn’t true. She cares about you too Alexia. Make it right.” Mapi got up and made her way down the stairs, leaving Alexia alone to think. She knew her friend was right, and she knew that the true motivation behind her decision to cut ties was fear, but the feeling was still so potent that the blond could simply not allow herself to act on her emotions. 

Alexia did not go back to practice, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the photographer who was currently dying under the harsh Spanish sun. Even after last week, the brunette still caught herself seeking out the captain on the pitch. She shook her head and tried to focus back on her job, but the heat combined with the exhaustion caused by her excessive training and lack of proper sleep was a deadly combination. 

One second she was up, the next she was on her ass with her head on her knees, concentrating hard on staying conscious. The first to notice was Lucy, who bolted across the pitch, followed closely by Sara and Kiera. 

The last thing the photographer saw was Lucy crouching down in front of her, and the feeling of her hand on her forehead before the world went black. 

Rosalie woke up in Sarah's office with her head pounding and vision blurred. As soon as she opened her eyes, Lucy was all over her, making sure that the girl had everything she needed. The older English woman managed, after some arguing, to convince Rosalie to take the rest of the week off, since she had already finished her work and the rest of the photography team could manage without her just fine for two days. 

A knock suddenly echoed in the room and a silhouette blocked the frosted glass of the door. Lucy stood up from the chair and opened the door slightly before sliding out once realizing who was at the door. Rosalie could not clearly see who was at the door, but she could hear the faint sound of talking 

“Lucia I just want to know if she is ok.” 

“ I’m telling you she’s fine. It’s just exhaustion Alexia you can relax.” Rosalie could hear a long exhale that most likely came from the blonde. 

“Alexia, if you care about her so much why did you treat her like this.” Lucy asked. The captain stayed silent, but Lucy learned a lot more from the blond’s silence than any word could explain. 

“Make it right ale.” Lucy said, echoing the words Mapi had said to her just a few hours prior. 

Rosalie heard some footsteps and soon after, the door opened softly and a disheveled blond head poked through. Once she saw that the brunette was awake, Alexia realized that she had not planned what she would say to the photographer. 

“Hey..” Her voice was so hushed and shy that Rosalie almost didn’t hear it. 

“You can come in, you don’t have to hover at the door.”

“I won’t disturb you too long. I just wanted to see if you were ok.” She said, finally stepping in the room. 

“Just a bit dizzy still, but I’m fine.” She said,

“Good.” She stood awkwardly for a moment, looking around the room unable to look the brunette in the eyes. 

“I am sorry about the things I said. I was stressed and did not think before speaking.” Alexia finally said, taking  the few steps separating her from the chair next to the exam chair. 

“It’s ok, it was the stress talking, I can understand that this kind of pressure is hard to deal with.” The younger woman said. She couldn’t deny that the initial reaction had hurt her but after a while, especially after seeing the echo it had online, she was able to understand why one would react like that. “ But I want you to know that I don’t appreciate how you blamed me and my profession for someone else’s actions.” 

Rosalie could excuse the reaction, but this part still stung. “ I am not like that, I respect and value the privacy of every player in this team.”

“I know. I am truly sorry.” The brunette offered a smile which was answered by Alexia’s shy one.

“ Do you need me to drive you home?” Alexia offered.

“Thank you but Lucy has that covered I think.” 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Alexia asked with the slightest bit of hope in her voice.

“ I think I’ll take the next two days off and work from home if they need me.” 

“ But I’ll be there at team bonding night on Friday. The girls won’t let me miss it after disappearing on them these past two weeks.” She added when she saw the blond’s shoulder fall at her previous statement.

“ Good, I am glad you are ok Rosalia.” Alexia said, standing up and making her way to the door. “ I would like it if we could start over, be friends again.” The blond added.

“ I think we can do that.” Rosalie said with a smile.

“ Ok, you take care of yourself Rosalie please.” Alexia said before walking out of the room, leaving Rosalie alone, feeling the best she had all week.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Yan Phantom Troupe + Hisoka + Illumi / Darling Asking “What Am I To You?”.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, kidnapping, implied violence, not SFW implications for Hisoka because he’s a creep (and a mention of M*lluki in Illumi’s section I’m sorry for your loss) and also for Nobunaga because he’s bleh, Nobunaga threatens to take out your teeth for biting him it's up to you whether or not to believe him, and manipulation.

Word Count: 4.5k. (literally how lmao)

*~*~*~*

Chrollo

“Hm…” The sound goes on for much longer than what you would have liked or at the very most could handle without sneering, the crescendo in his voice rising and rising like tulips sprouting from soil. “Hm…”

His tone was barely a whisper at first, but it soon evolved like some hideous, god-forsaken species outcasted to a deserted island or planet. If you did not have your forks and knives taken away for trying to pick and cut off the cuff and chain attached to your ankle, a consequence from last week’s horribly executed escape attempt, you would threaten to stab your eardrums if he didn’t actually answer your question. But part of you thinks that he would only find it funny, and simply hum for twice as long as he has already planned to. Or would he be petty about it, and a second cuff and chain will appear on your ankle along with having your only friend, a silver spoon, taken away? With Chrollo, you do not think you will ever be able to fully tell.

“Please answer me,” You decide on responding with a musical note of your own, a drone. It seems to be the safest option, all things considered. You stare at the soup in front of you instead of at him, playing with the idea of counting the precisely cut vegetables and small rings of pasta. You would have entertained the thought of throwing the boiling bowl at him, but you now know that his speed is beyond what you could ever hope to achieve. 

You would never get that far, would you?

You would have to wait until he is gone for the time being to even be able to step on the welcome rug by the door. You managed to convince him to finally buy you hairpins yesterday, and they are safely tucked away in the corner of the table next to your side of the bed, hidden underneath a pile of neatly folded silk pajamas until further notice. 

“Well, what do you think you are to me?” He asks, brushing his foot against yours underneath the dining table. It takes everything in you not to move your chair away. That would only make things worse, wouldn’t it? Or would this just further make him see you as an adorable little thing because he knows you would not get that far, not with the cuff and chain on your ankle and the several locks on the door and him here right in front of you? 

Again, you cannot tell. When can you ever? Could anyone ever read him, you wonder?

His porcelain dish is already empty, with but a few drops of red broth and a few herbs swirling about. He moves his chair forward and gently grabs your hand, his thumb massaging circles into your palm. You don’t know whether or not to answer his question.

This life is like a torturous game of chess, and you aren’t a player at all. It is up to Chrollo to decide whether or not you are worthy of being a pawn or queen or king, and where you go.

Is this all you will ever be?

His fingers rise to your cheek as he stands up, the touch so light it is hard to decipher the intentions of it. Comfort? Ownership? A statement?

Without thinking, you shut your eyes and lean into it. You coo. You coo like a dove, a baby bird, something so small and fragile in the face of a predator that wants nothing more than to take off its wings so it can never fly away. Perhaps the predator in question is the parent of the chick, never wanting it to leave the nest and explore the big, scary world.

Is this all you ever will be? A helpless, silly little thing stuck way up high with no way down, something cute and small that needs to be protected and cared for because they cannot take care of themselves? 

You finally look up at him and he leans in then. He coos back at you, and you want to go back to closing your eyes and trying to stop hearing whatever he will say as a response to your refusal to answer. But you can’t.

So, you think of an answer, something that would make him happy but also not have you speak too long because you don’t want to speak at all. You just want this to be over with, you just want Chrollo to for once respond to your question instead of rebutting with one of his own.

You don’t have a choice, as always.

“Something to possess,” Your voice is soft and hoarse because you never use it aside from when you cry. “Something… someone to keep for your pleasure and your pleasure alone.” He coos again. It is sweet and sticky and latching onto you like thick honey or candy. 

“You’re halfway there.” There is an unspoken praise in the air, one so nectarous it’s suffocating and you almost can't breathe. It is like Chrollo’s hands are on your throat, squeezing and squeezing until you pop like a balloon. There is no escape.

He turns and gets his fingers off your face, but the feeling of freedom is quickly taken away by the sound of Chrollo’s footsteps approaching you. 

“I suppose I see you as both above and below me at the same time.” He says. You want to run but he’ll catch you in no time before you could even execute the idea.

He is behind you now, grabbing your arms and tugging as your chair squeals and squeaks like a lamb cornered by one who will soon sell its tender meat. You want to scream like one because you too are cornered by someone who will never let you out of here alive.

One of his hands smoothly moves up like you are a violin, lightly pinching your chin and forcing you to look up at him. You just hope there is no encore after this. You hope that in the future there are no such things and that he will just answer your questions and be done with it, but that is so foolish of you, isn’t it?

“You are human and have humanity,” He murmurs, his eyes wider and more intense than you ever had seen them before. “And I would love nothing more than to steal that away.”

Nobunaga

“You’re so silly, you know that?” You recognize the rhetorical nature of the question and choose not to answer. This causes Nobunaga to toy with the thigh-high socks he insisted you wear after returning from another day of thievery.

Every time you tried to express yourself verbally, you were met with a laugh, a gentle touch, an embrace, a peck, or... something far more dreadful than any of those gestures. You preferred to steer clear of that type of affectionate act for as long as you could, even if it meant just a few days. It would be a noteworthy achievement. Of course, Nobunaga's libido would never wane, as he shows no mercy unintentionally to you and intentionally to anyone else in his life.

The way your food is placed on pink plastic plates with little sections of where to put vegetables and where to put a small dessert for a job well done of eating all the food, which is always raw or burnt to a crisp. The pastel frilly clothes you’re forced to wear always show too much skin. The threat to remove most of your teeth if you bite him again. The way he keeps touching your thighs, pinching and groaning and-

Nobunaga never answers your question, resuming to hand-feed you some severely undercooked cookies he baked himself. Well, you scooped the dough at least, and that’s the most you’ll ever do in the kitchen while you are held captive.

Still, raw cookie dough is better than burnt in your opinion.

Just like delusional Nobunaga is much, much better than angry, heartbroken Nobunaga.

Your broken pointer and middle fingers are proof of that.

Feitan

“...”

He blinks; once, twice, thrice… and then you stop counting. It’s pointless anyhow, he is most likely not going to answer your question yet again.

As anticipated, Feitan walks away wordlessly, descending to his basement without a single step on the stairs being audible.

Just as you believe he has vanished, he creeps up from behind, clutching an object in his palms, causing you to nearly shriek. He would find amusement in that if you did. Whenever you engage in any action he deems foolish, he chuckles. It is the closest semblance of happiness you have witnessed from him, his snickering. 

“...Here.”

With trembling hands, you accept the concealed object from his grasp.

“...Well?” Feitan asks, raising his eyebrow, his coat hiding what is most likely a smirk of some kind. “Like it?”

Huh? It's... a ring, from a fancy jewelry shop that you had been setting aside money for. This shop happened to be the priciest in the city you grew up in, with all of its items being highly sought after.

“I do.”

Happiness is like the rarest star in the universe to you now, and you will never let it go, now that you have it once again.

“...Glad.”

After a few moments of silence, Feitan is the one who speaks again as you stare at the jewel’s beauty.

“Do you want the finger that came with it?”

(machi, hisoka, phinks, shalnark, franklin, shizuku, pakunoda, bonolenov, uvogin, kortopi, and illumi under cut!)

Machi

Somehow, Machi’s posture becomes even more tense. But it does not stop her from still pouring the pot of instant ramen into your plate, though hers remains empty.

In silence, she puts some edamame, still cold from the fridge, on top, along with some spinach and carrots.

With her bare hand, she pulls out one of the soft-boiled eggs from the bowl of ice water, rolling it on the table until its shell cracks and she takes it off. She then, along with the egg and vegetables, puts some seaweed on top.

When you lean in closer to the utensil drawer, Machi opens it before you can.

She doesn’t ask you which chopsticks you want. She already knows your favorite one by now. The wooden ones with purple handles with white rabbits on them. Hers are plain.

She puts yours in one hand and your food in the other, walking to the kitchen table and putting both down. It’s winter now, and so she makes you drink tea nonstop and thus has a cup of it in front of your chair too.

“…Do you think I hate you?” Her voice, while still cold, has an emotion in it this time; worry. “I don’t, I really don’t. I promise you.” With that, she cracks the other boiled egg and puts it into her empty bowl. “I promise.”

You feel horrible for asking. You just wanted to know. You never know what she is thinking, that is why. But you feel horrible. Now she does too. Both of you, here, in silence, pondering whether or not the other despises you.

“I know, I just… wanted to make sure.” You don’t know if you are lying, and neither does she.

She takes good care of you. But she also ties you up when she has to leave, and one time she had to take out the syringes when you got too aggressive.

So what exactly are you to her?

Hisoka

Hisoka, still standing over your sitting form, puts his right hand on you, squeezing it just barely enough for it to sting.

“Aw, come on [First], lighten up.” If it were possible, with his words Hisoka grows twice as large as he was before he said anything. “I still have lots to teach you.” He chuckles as his long nails, sharp enough to be daggers or a ferocious beast’s teeth you think, dig further into your shoulder. The message is clear. You’ll never be rid of him, as much as you try to.

Even now, when you move to a secluded village on the other side of the country, for just the slightest chance he would leave you alone.

Your basket of berries and herbs is still next to you, a reward for all the foraging you did just before Hisoka showed up again.

“I did your leaf-in-water test already for you.” Just before you ran for the hills, you finally gave into Hisoka essentially begging you to test what kind of Nen user you are, claiming that you were now his pupil. “The water tasted sweet. I’m a Transmuter. That’s what you wanted to know. There is nothing else you can do for me, you know I am no fighter.”

Hisoka nods, and you think that this is it. Maybe he will finally leave you alone and you can go about your life without knowing anything else about Nen. But instead, Hisoka sits next to you on the grass.

He takes a berry from your basket and squeezes it between his fingers before it turns into a sticky mush.

It’s red.

“I know, but there are other things I can indeed teach you, can’t I?”

You don’t want to know what he means, you don’t want to know what he wants to do to you, but before you can stop him he is already on top of you, pushing you behind the bush you were picking rose petals from. You kick and scream at him to let go and cry, but he, as always, is so much stronger than you’ll ever be. 

“This will hurt for a bit, but I promise you’ll feel very good, and you’ll want more.”

Phinks

Phinks stops pressing the buttons on the remote and stops reading the little synopsis on each of the shows he was thinking about watching with you, or each of the movies. You were not paying attention, instead looking at your fingers and playing with the dry skin by each nail.

He sets it aside, placing a hand on the back of his head and gently scratching. His gaze falls to the floor, and you follow suit.

He exudes nervousness. This comes as no surprise, as Phinks has always been one to shy away from openly displaying his romantic desires, as odd as it were to you when you were first brought here.

“Uh. Why do you ask? Isn’t… it kinda obvious? Um… you know I’m not exactly cut out for all this sappy bullshit… I… I… Um. Just… just forget it, okay? Just know that I see you as my partner… Wait, oh God, that sounds so bad…”

He keeps stuttering as he tries to explain everything. But, as funny as it would have been if you had known him outside of being your stalker and now current captor, his words only make you feel more hopeless.

Shalnark

He puts down his phone and stands up from his armchair. You’re in your pajamas, the fluffy pastel pink ones, standing in the doorway to Shalnark’s office area, where there are many computers and such on the walls and his large desk.

“Aw!” He murmurs, then gently pinches your cheeks upon approaching. He playfully rubs his nose against yours. Trying to distance yourself, instantly regretting seeking an answer of any sort from him, yet as always, his overpowering strength prevents any escape.

“C-Come on, Shal…” The nickname sometimes works when you ask for some dessert or a game of some kind, so maybe it will work in a situation like this too. “I wanna go to bed.” You nearly whine as he stretches your cheeks out further. 

“But I still haven’t answered your question, sweetie!” He exclaims.

“F-Forget it.” You mutter, looking to the side. “It’s fine. Really. Get back to work.”

But he does not let go.

“Let me answer! Hmm… you’re so cute, like a kitten. You sure snuggle against me in bed like one!” Shalnark chuckles, and you can smell a mix of coffee and oranges in his breath. “So maybe… that’s the best analogy for it?” Some mint too. “Something to cuddle with? Something to keep safe.” He boops your nose. “Something too silly and adorable and airheaded to live on their own.”

You’re not sure if his words are supposed to hurt you or cheer you up.

“Yeah, I think something like that works!” After what seems like an endless amount of time, Shalnark releases his grasp on your face. “Just look at you.”

“O-Okay.” You murmur, turning away and attempting to make a beeline for the bedroom, regretting ever opening your mouth. “Sorry for asking. Good night-” Shalnark grabs your arm, making you stop moving before you even start. 

“Come on, cutie! Spend some time with me. We can even play Wild World together again!”

He points to your 3DS, a rose gold color, and then to his, which is dark violet and covered in stickers referencing popular memes he saw on the internet. At least he has never made you see some particularly gruesome scene in the horror games he plays late at night out of impulse.

Franklin

As your words hang in the air, a silence so profound that you begin to question if he even registered your message, you find yourself fixating on your unfinished meal. Contemplating the merits and drawbacks of broaching the topic once more versus letting it go, you suddenly hear him put his cup of coffee down with a clatter as he almost slams it by accident.

“Where did this come from?” He asks. His tone almost seems concerned, you think, concerned for how you think of him when he is always so quiet or concerned for how you think he thinks of you, that one day he will simply not come back and find someone else more willing.

Franklin does not seem angry, not that he ever was. He is trying to appear neutral, to not scare you, like you were some sort of stray cat who he has yet to earn the trust of.

Though you don’t bite or scratch, you do hide from him.

“I… just want to know why you did all… this.”

Your eyes go everywhere, from the pots of plants he brought you recently by the barred windows to the blinking light above the stairs he promised to fix soon to Frank Herbert’s Dune laid across the couch next to your blanket. 

“Franklin, since you claim to care about me… why can’t I go outside and be free?”

After a few more moments of silence, you look up at Franklin. He looks remorseful almost, from his visible frown to his eyes almost being closed to the way he does not look at you. Something akin to pity blooms in your chest.

“...Because unfortunately for both of us, I am… selfish, and you are too much for me to lose.”

Just like that, the pity dies similarly to the vase of flowers in the middle of the table.

Shizuku

You don’t know whether or not she will respond while knowing what you are and what she is. A captive. A captor. But you doubt it because every time she comes back she thinks you are here of your own volition and that you love her just as much as you know her.

Sometimes, you wish that you did, because whenever she sees you she looks at you like you were a gift that she had wanted for years.

Sometimes you wish that you did because that would make things oh so much easier for you. She sometimes forgets you are here, sometimes still goes to your actual home, and panics when she sees you are not there.

Shizuku merely chuckles, hugging you tighter. Perhaps she even forgot the slap she inflicted upon you earlier today for daring to say that you hate her, making you fly across the room.

“My love of course, silly!” Sometimes you hope that one day you will forget everything too because you envy Shizuku for never being cautious.

Pakunoda

“[First]...” Pakunoda’s eyes meet your own, one of her hands holding onto a chocolate-covered strawberry from the box she just got. Her other has a presence above one of your own, a presence so light you hardly recognize it is there.

She looks regretful and concerned.

The look fills you with so much guilt you immediately apologize and put the back of your head on her lap once again. It always works.

“You do know I care about you deeply, right, beloved?” Her long nails glide over your hair, making you close your eyes to calm yourself. You hope that look is gone because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take it before you break under its pressure fully. “I really do.”

You know she does, but it does not make the first days of your capture, which feels like an eternity ago, feel any less real, as much as Pakunoda denies the more horrifying parts of it all.

“I know, Paku.”

She smiles at the nickname.

The strawberry approaches your mouth, and you bite into it. Dark chocolate, you think this one is. Pakunoda loves her strawberries, but she loves parfaits just a little bit more. Maybe, to get her to forget your question, you can ask her to get some and feed them to her. 

Soon, you fall asleep. Pakunoda opens her book back up after closing the box of sweets. 

With one hand she caresses your hair, and in the other, she turns the pages of her novel. She loves evenings like this.

“I love you…” She murmurs, brushing some of your hair out of your face. “One day… you’ll love me too, fully, right?”

Half asleep, you agree without thinking. Once again, she smiles.

Bonolenov

With a sigh, he turns his head, momentarily interrupting your question. However, he quickly resumes dancing before you, delighting in your observation of his favorite pastime. Although you are unsure of the specific style of dance he is performing, you are confident that Bonolenov will soon enlighten you, taking the opportunity to boast about his expertise in this particular art form.

Listening to his animated explanations is always entertaining. His frequent rants make you feel as though he is a close friend rather than your captor if only that were true. Despite the circumstances, he treats you with kindness and respect. He believes that housing you in his home is an honor and privilege, a sentiment for which you hold some gratitude.

“A lover, because I do love you. You are simply wonderful to be around, after all.” In an alternate existence, were he not involved in criminal activities such as theft, kidnapping, stalking, and multiple murders, you might have developed an affection for him. This is due to your awareness of his deep affection for you and the kindness he exhibits towards you.

So you say such.

Bonolenov stays silent for a little while after that, along with the dancing that he often enjoys doing. Instead, he gazes through the windows, adorned with steel bars, and tenderly places small tokens that he knows bring you joy upon the table in the kitchen.

Uvogin

“Huh?”

Uvogin stops punching the claw machine, turning to you. It’s a mess, all because you said you wanted a corgi plush from it. But is it your fault, when you wanted to win it fair and square?

Maybe it’s not. Maybe it is. You know Uvogin is never one to have coins in his pockets. But, then again, he always seemed to have money when he was placing bets with Troupe members, especially with that Nobunaga person.

He seems confused, albeit he is hiding it behind a smirk. In one of his hands, covered in little shards of glass, is the stuffed animal you wanted.

“Come on, [First]!” He laughs, delusionally proud of himself. “I’m your boyfriend!” He wasn’t, but you would never voice that.

“...I-I know. But still… Do you like me?” You make an effort to convey your thoughts in the most diplomatic manner possible, being cautious not to provoke Uvogin's anger. Despite never having witnessed Uvogin's wrath, you remain steadfast in your desire to avoid it at all costs.

His smile widens.

“Of course I do!”

He presents you with the cuddly toy, having meticulously removed all the splinters of glass embedded within it.

“Do you really?” You ask, thinking of the time he threatened to break your legs if you ever attempted to run away from him again. He wasn’t even angry as he said the threat. 

At another one of your questions, Uvogin says yes. But does he really? Or are you just something to hoard?

Do you really want to find out, you wonder? 

Your heart tells you you don’t.

Kortopi

He turns his head, confused. It is one of the few expressions you can decipher from Kortopi because of the many strands of hair covering him. At the sight, you bow your head down.

He steps forward, and you step back.

He stops moving. So do you.

He retreats. You don’t speak for the rest of the day. You were used to it though. Kortopi hardly ever talks to you, but you don’t think he means it to be rude.

“Everything.” He mutters, standing above your bed. You sleep so peacefully, something you never were when you were awake. “You are everything.”

Illumi

Gently, he puts his teacup down with a little clatter of the saucer as he does so.

“Do you think I see you in a bad light, [First]?”

You simply look down at your teacup, smelling the lavender and chamomile to try to calm down a bit before answering Illumi.

The query has plagued your mind for an extended period. The exact duration remains elusive, as the days have merged into an indistinguishable blur. No matter your actions, pain will be inflicted upon you by someone, regardless of your conduct. Perhaps it will be Illumi's mother, administering a slightly sublethal, tasteless toxin with a syringe. Or it could be Illumi himself, subjecting you to days of confinement in a food and water-deprived closet. Regardless of your behavior, the inevitability of suffering looms. 

With the intent of prolonging your exposure to the morning birdsong and granting yourself additional time in the garden, you opt to respond.

“N-No.” You lie. “You… keep me around to be molded into your perfect spouse, I know that, it is just… just…”

His smile sends chills down your spine, surpassing even the terror of Illumi's younger brother once launching into a lewd tirade about you in your presence.

“That is all there is to it; nothing more, nothing less.”

You sip the tea finally, and the burning sensation in your throat does not bother you anymore.

[atticsandwich]

out of focus, eye to eye

pairing: beelzebub / gn! reader (mc)

fluff, the slightest of tension, food + you = a happy demon

The times Beel shows his love for you, not through words, but in the little things you didn't think he would notice.

(He does.)

happy birthday beel and belphie 🥹 i only had enough brain juice to write for one twin, i'll make it up to you soon bel, i promise

—

11:59.

You didn't usually crave for something to eat at the dead of night, especially with how hearty some dinners at the House of Lamentation can be. Today was no exception; Leviathan as the designated cook of the day laid out an entire spread of dishes from an anime he's been watching recently, his dedicated effort paying off with an across-the-board commendable feast.

Really, you had no business still being hungry after everything you ate, but your growling stomach commands otherwise.

"There should still be some leftover doughnuts from yesterday..." you think to yourself as you close the door of your room. Thankfully, the kitchen's right next door, but that also means you immediately notice the tell-tale signs of a very awake, very hungry demon.

"There goes my doughnuts..." a tragedy, considering nothing is safe when the Avatar of Gluttony is in one of his midnight fridge raids.

"Hm? Oh, you're awake. Were you hungry too?" you must've been standing there for quite a while now for Beel to notice you, as he waves and motions for you to come closer.

"Sort of, yeah," you reply, walking to his side. "Got anything for me?"

Wordlessly, considering he just shoved an entire cupcake in his mouth— sorry Asmo— he points to a familiar box towards the side.

"...Doughnuts? I thought you've eaten them by now," you say, pleasantly surprised. Taking the box from the fridge, you take a seat by the demon's side. Upon opening, you notice that although it was indeed already eaten from, two of the same ones were left as is.

"Hm...? These are..."

"They're your favorite kind, so I made sure to save them for you," Beel says it so nonchalantly, immediately resuming his fridge raid, but you can't help the butterflies that start twirling in your belly, hunger almost dissipated.

Taking a bite, you finally relish in fulfilling your sudden craving. A few more and half a doughnut's left, and you realize that Beel switched to looking at you eat, a fond smile in his face. You couldn't help but fluster at the attention, averting your gaze away from his.

"...You have some crumbs around your mouth," before you could say anything in reply, he takes his thumb and wipes the side of your lip, his eyes on you the entire time. You muttered a shy 'thank you' before he takes his own thumb to his mouth, clearing off the crumbs that were on yours.

"...Mmm, I get why they're your favorite. It's really good."

—

Lunchtime at R.A.D can sometimes be a life-or-death affair, especially when the cooks decide to put their best foot forward for the day. Today was one of those days— with a today's menu spread rivalling that of Ristorante Six, you can almost feel the overflowing anticipation seconds before the bell rings.

5 seconds...

At this point, nobody's listening to the professor, but the fidgeting figures of students eager to dash out is quite a sight.

3 seconds...

Being human meant being at a disadvantage, you thought. Yes, your magical prowess is pretty prominent, but the average demon can still physically overpower any regular human.

1 second...

"Hey, did you want to eat out for lunch today?"

Beel's voice overtakes the blaring of the lunch bell, demons of all sizes rushing immediately towards the cafeteria. In the distance, you see Mammon's figure scrambling and slinking his way throught the crowd like a little snake— smart.

Yeah, there's no hope for you out there today.

"That sounds nice actually," you sigh wistfully. Maybe next time, after you get some wrestling pointers from Beel.

"Hell's Kitchen has some really good deals for lunch today, plus they have a new dish I really wanna try," you walk out the room with the demon, already daydreaming of his lunch spread.

"Don't worry. Next time, I'll carry you on my shoulders so we can run through the lunch crowd together," he must've noticed how you were staring at the cafeteria earlier. You gave him a reassuring smile, as if telling him you're fine.

"Thanks, Beel. But you're capable enough as is now, so... don't you want to try the chef specials today?"

"Well, yes, but I could always do that another time. I'd rather eat lunch with you," the earnesty in his voice gave you butterflies again, and you hope you're hiding how flustered you are now sufficiently.

"...I'd rather eat lunch with you too, Beel."

He hums happily in response, taking your arm on his own. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and you give him a squeeze back.

—

Sorcerer training days with Solomon varied in difficulty each week; sometimes you two would simply brew a bunch of potions together, while other times he'd have you cast a variety of spells in succession, often resulting in you tiring out your magic reserves.

Unfortunately for you, today was spell day.

You almost always came home late during these kinds of days too— which meant dinner was usually done by the time you got home. You usually didn't mind, as it also meant the house was a lot more quiet, with the brothers all retreating to their rooms for their end-of-the-day routines. After grabbing a quick bite to eat, you head to your room, fully prepared to just collapse in bed.

Weird— was my room this tidy when i left this morning?, you wondered, but who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth? Your study area was organized, the room smelt like fresh linen and citrus, and your bed—

Ah.

Beel has his head laid on your mattress while seated on the floor, letting off the smallest of snores. You let out an endeared sigh, approaching the large demon, analyzing his face as he slept before you gently tapped his shoulders to try wake him up. The demon grumbles in response, eventually slowly opening his eyes. When he finally notices you, he opens them fully, before pulling you down for a hug.

"You're back," you can feel him smile in the embrace. Although tired, you try to return the hug as best you can.

"Were you the one who cleaned my room?"

"Yeah," he nods in confirmation. "You looked more tired recently, so I wanted to help out. But, uh... I think I got some crumbs on the floor from eating while I was waiting for you. Sorry..."

You laugh again, pulling the both of you up from the floor to sit on the bed.

"Thank you, Beel. That was very thoughtful of you," you give his nose a little peck, and it's adorable the way he hums happily in response, clearly content with your satisfaction (and kiss). You sometimes wonder what you did to deserve someone like Beel, but then again, if you told your younger self the life you're living now, you'd probably look at yourself crazy.

"Well, since you're already here and I woke you up, let's just sleep together," you suggest, patting on the opposite side of your bed as an invitation. It's amazing how those string of words instantly light up his face.

"Really?" he asks, although he's already walking to the other side of the bed, already accepting the invite.

Quickly changing into your sleep clothes, you dive into bed right next to him, his arms open and ready to slot you in. You fit in his hold just right, and you inhale the distinct scent of wood and vanilla— which, coupled with how one of his hand is softly stroking the back of your head, quickly lulls you into comfort, your eyes starting to droop.

"G'night Beel," you say, sleepily.

"Goodnight," he returns, before leaning down to plant a small kiss on the crown of your head, and another on your forehead.

As you finally succumb to the world of dreams, the last thing you hear a small hum and a whisper of "I love you."

Tomorrow, you'll say it back to him first thing in the morning.

—

tags: @insomniachox

[cobaltperun]

Lost (30 - Finale) - Tangled up in you

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 3.8k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part

-You're the fire that warms me when I'm cold, you're the hand I have to hold as I grow old-

~X~ September 2037 ~X~

No matter how many times she thought about it, Tara couldn’t wrap her head around the passage of time. In a few days your children would turn ten, a few months ago you turned thirty-six and she would be thirty-five in a few months. Mindy and Anika adopted three wonderful children that would turn four next month, and even Chad got married and had a kid of his own on the way! Sam was forty, and she somehow managed to settle down with the female cop that infiltrated the cult over a decade ago, and it was about damn time. Frankly, Tara was grateful to the woman for having the patience to deal with Sam’s uncertainties and doubts in herself.

The point was, the time was passing way too quickly, it felt like she gave birth to Zack and Susan just yesterday and now they were slowly but surely entering their rebellious phase. Well, sometimes, and for small things, but Tara dreaded the moment they’d start arguing with you and her over everything. Soon they’d be teenagers, exploring the world through a fresh perspective, learning more about themselves, truly falling in love for the first time, and all the other things Tara frankly wasn’t ready for.

You on the other hand remained fairly chill about it, saying it was part of growing up and that you couldn’t protect them from everything. Speaking of you, you were on a business trip, to negotiate a deal and handle some minor inconveniences with a partner company. You’d come back tonight, and Tara hoped she could deal with the mess before you arrived.

The entire kitchen was almost at the point of no return, almost messed up beyond all recognition, and Zack and Susan loved it. Tara, however, wondered why she came up with this idea in the first place. “Zack, sweetheart, bring me the cream,” she asked the boy as she took a deep breath and prepared to remove the cake mold around the layered cake she and the twins made.

“Mommy, this isn’t going to hold,” Susan poked the upper layer and it moved! Why were cakes like this?! She made great food these past few days, breakfast, lunch, dinner, as long as it wasn’t really complex, sweets, or any pastry aside from the simplest ones, she more or less could make it, but cakes would one hundred percent be her downfall!

“Nonsense, we followed the recipe, and I watched Y/N make these plenty of times before!” Tara remained hopeful. It would be fine, she did watch you do this even before Zack and Susan were born, even before you two got together. She could do it. So, what if the sink was filled with dirty dishes, or if there was flour all over the counter, or if the stove desperately needed cleaning and the kids and her had cream and filling and chocolate all over their hands and faces and clothes. The cake would be amazing. Maybe a bit too sweet, because she foolishly allowed Zack to add sugar to the filling, and maybe, just maybe, Susan spilled a bit too much vanilla extract into it, but it would be fine.

“Sue is right, Mom, though Mom is more whipped than this cream so we’ll be fine,” Zack set the whipped cream next to her and climbed onto the chair to watch the impending doom he was so sure would transpire the moment Tara removed the cake mold. He was so much like you it wasn’t even funny. Calm, not bothered by most things. Susan picked up some of your traits as well, but Zack was like a sponge when it came to you, picking up your traits and habits.

“It’ll be fine,” Tara said, more to reassure herself than anything else and, with her eyes closed, finally removed the mold, only to feel the layers of the cake the three of them spent hours making just falling apart.

This was why you handled the cooking, you, unlike Tara, could make anything. And you, again unlike Tara, actually loved doing it.

“See? We told you,” Susan ripped off a small piece of the sponge, dipped it into the filling and put it in her mouth. “At least it tastes good?” she offered as Tara nearly dropped her head down on the table.

She would have done it, if Zack didn’t put his hand between her head and the messy table. “Thanks, Zack,” she sighed, lifting her head up and just sitting down on the chair. This was, in one word, a disaster.

Before the boy could reply Tara heard the sound of car pulling into the driveway and, despite the mess in the kitchen, she smiled, taking the apron off and watching through the kitchen window as you stepped out of the car with your bag hanging from your shoulder and a bounce to your step. You could have parked inside the garage, but you were clearly impatient to see your family once again.

“Mom!” Zack exclaimed, running toward the doors with a large grin on his face and Susan immediately followed him, just as happy to see you again after five days apart.

“Clean up first!” oh, who was Tara kidding, this was the longest the twins spent away from you, of course they wouldn’t realize how messy they were. It didn’t help that the kids were as attached to you as she was, they loved you, looked up to you, relied on you. You were everything your or Tara’s parents failed to be, their support and protection and Tara felt lucky she could raise the twins with you. You made one hell of a team if she could say so herself and the twins were happy, and actually excited to spend time with the two of you, unlike Tara or you were when you were their age.

She smiled when she heard your laughter. “Who let you two loose in the kitchen?” you laughed and she heard both of your children laughing and shouting, she couldn’t see what was going on, but she was certain you just lifted them up, and sure enough you walked through the kitchen doors with Zack and Susan in your arms. “Another year or two and you’ll have to take turns, you’re getting a bit too big,” you laughed and kissed their cheeks as they hugged you tightly.

“We tried to make a cake for you,” Zack spilled the beans.

“We made a mess,” Susan fake-whispered to you and then pointed around the kitchen for you to see.

“Well,” you took the horror slash crime scene in front of you in as Tara just sheepishly smiled at you. “There are words that could be used in this situation,” you chuckled, lowering the kids down and walking over to Tara.

She just looked at you, too exhausted by the failure to get up and greet you. And, well, unlike the twins she was aware of how messy she was. Although, your clothes were already stained, so maybe adding a few more stains wouldn’t hurt.

“I missed you so much,” you kissed her as you wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her up, and Tara hooked an arm around your neck.

She deepened the kiss and caressed your cheek, leaving a bit of whipped cream on it. “It’s a complete failure,” she chuckled softly when she pulled back and looked you in the eyes, and she still saw the same intense, absolute love she saw all those years ago. All these years and the love you felt for her didn’t fade even a bit, in fact, it just got stronger with time.

You took her hand and brough it to your lips to taste the whipped cream. “This is fine,” you said and glanced at the filling. “That’s not thick enough though. And you forgot to put the whipped cream on the edges,” you told her, just from one glance seeing where the main issues were.

Well, you were the one who handled the cooking, not Tara.

“Can we fix it?” Susan asked as you lowered Tara back down.

“Maybe next time, I wanna eat what you guys made for me,” you said, and so you just freshened up a bit and came back to the kitchen to enjoy the end results of your family’s efforts. It was just another thing she loved about you, because it didn’t matter that the cake was a mess, Tara, Zack and Susan made it for you, and to you that meant it was perfect as it was.

“See,” Zack grinned at her, and Tara noticed that his grin looked a lot like yours. “Mom is more whipped than this,” he reminded her, causing you to ruffle his hair.

“I mean, I can’t argue against that,” you laughed, taking another bite of the cake.

“Sue got an A for her drawing, by the way,” Zack suddenly said, and Tara watched with a wide smile as Susan blushed when you, proud of her, got up and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m proud of you, Sue,” you smiled, hugging your daughter when she wrapped her arms around you.

Susan shrugged. “It’s just the usual stuff,” she said, though the smile on her face gave away the fact that she enjoyed the praise.

“Maybe, but,” you pulled Zack into a hug as well. “we’re both still proud of you. Both of you. No matter what you get at school, as long as you’re happy and put effort into what you’re doing, we’ll both always be proud of you,” you told them, and it was something both you and Tara told them as often as possible. No matter how big or how small, no matter if they succeed or fail, you would always be there to celebrate with them or cheer them up.

And Tara got up to hug the three of you at the same time. It felt good to have her entire family with her again, even if you were away for only five days.

~X~

It was late at night when you and Tara finished returning the kitchen to the original state. “Did you three have a whipped cream fight?” you asked incredulously as you brought the ladder to clean a few bits of whipped cream stains that somehow ended up on the ceiling.

Tara chuckled uneasily. “I’d like to tell you how that happened, but this whole night feels like a fever dream,” she sighed as she slumped into the chair, exhausted and sleepy, but not complaining for even a moment. Hell, she wanted to clean this all up alone and let you rest. As if you could rest knowing she was fighting the kitchen mess all alone.

At least Zack and Susan got too tired to make a fuss about their bedtime.

You climbed down from the ladder and approached Tara. “I appreciate the thought, Love,” you said, getting behind her and massaging her shoulders and neck slowly.

“That’s the spot,” she sighed contently and closed her eyes, just surrendering to the sensations of your touch over her shirt, well, your shirt, but at this point it was a shared closet. “How did your business trip go?” she asked while you lowered your hands to massage her back, or at least whatever you could reach above the chair.

“Eh, they were being greedy so I went and made it very clear we were paying them enough already, but I might need to look for another export company soon enough,” you said, thinking over the past few days. “Oh, and I managed to make a good deal, the company should earn a bit over a million from it, so that’s always a good thing,” you told her more, going into details on the deal and the work you did over the past five days.

All the while Tara nodded, congratulating, and praising you every now and then. Safe to say, you didn’t have to worry about money, and with how things were going Zack and Susan would be fine and able to pursue any interest.

~X~

Next morning you and Zack came back from the two-mile-long morning jog. Zack’s been training with you almost every morning, nothing too intense, but he went with you on a jog and did some cardio with you as well. He had no interest in martial arts though and just liked being active, and he liked to focus on the training he did do.

You followed him into the home gym you set up and, as he sat down to rest from the jog, you put on your gloves and began shadow boxing. It was one of your favorite exercises, as you moved in response to the imaginary enemy, maintaining the speed and power behind your hits as the doors opened.

You grinned, but you didn’t stop training. “Drawing again, Sue?” you asked, effortlessly switching from one stance to another.

“Yup!” Susan sat down next to Zack with a notebook and a pencil in her hands. While Zack had no interest whatsoever in martial arts, Susan did, though not the way you did. Instead of training or developing an interest in the uses of martial arts, she was mesmerized by the motions, the stances, the artistic side of it as she called it. Repeatedly she captured your movements and stances as she drew sketches, she later turned into detailed pencil drawings. She could easily depict a small fight scene through her drawings, and she was technically still nine. You were eager to see where her talent would take her. And while Zack lacked the more artistic talents, he had his own share of skills, mostly rooted in logic and math.

So, as you continued going through the motions you found yourself thinking you were the luckiest person in the world. You had two wonderful children and Tara with you, and absolutely nothing would make you happier than spending the rest of your life by their sides.

About an hour later, while you were in the middle of punching the sandbag you and the twins heard the doors upstairs opening and Tara came down with laptop in hand. “Baby you need to see this,” the urgency in her voice made you quickly take the gloves off, but the excitement in her eyes told you whatever she had to show you was good news. So, you took a few extra moments to wipe the sweat off your face as she set the laptop on the table.

Zack and Susan ran over to the laptop and paused. “UFC?” Zack read, puzzled.

You raised an eyebrow, that was the last thing you expected, but you leaned against the table and looked at the mail you got. “An invitation for the charity event? All the money made from the ticket sales will be donated,” you read, grinning as you saw the details.

“Is it because we have money?” Susan asked.

Now that you thought about it, you never really told them you were once a world champion. It just never came up.

Tara placed her arms around their shoulders and pulled them a bit closer. “Let me tell you a tiny little secret about your mom,” she winked at you and you pretended to not pay attention as the kids got excited over the idea. “Your mom used to be a world champion, the strongest female MMA fighter in the who world,” she fake-whispered.

“What?! Mom?!” Zack exclaimed, looking from Tara to you and back as if he couldn’t believe that.

“That’s so cool!” Susan shouted and ran over to her phone. From the corner of your eye you could see her Googling you and sure enough she found the proof of Tara’s claim. “It’s true! Look Z, she knocked one lady out in one punch!”

“No way!” Zack ran over to her, and you just smiled as you pulled Tara into a hug.

“You look happy,” you muttered against her neck.

“Mhm. I know you’ll accept,” she said and placed her arms on top of yours. “All these years and you’re still so strong,” she whispered as she turned her head and kissed your cheek. “My badass, adorable, MMA fighter.”

“I’ll show you adorable,” you grumbled, annoyed that she still pulled that out every now and then.

Tara looked a little too pleased with that. “I’m counting on that,” she spoke quietly, just for you to hear her. “Mmm, Daddy.” 

Fuck. She was going to be the death of you.

~X~

A month later you were more or less back in fighting shape and ready to fight. You felt good, light on your feet, with explosive punches and fast kicks and while you weren’t too confident in your grappling all these years later you had to admit that was never your go-to approach to begin with. So, here you were, once again in the octagon, surrounded by the fences and the crowd screaming your and your opponent’s name.

“You sure you don’t wanna give up, I’ll even bring you a chair so you can rest, after all, you might as well be a hag in the cage,” the girl was close to her prime, in her early twenties and, from what you heard, current world champion.

You just unzipped your jacket and tossed it outside to the team the organizers gave you and the girl paled a bit. She looked a bit like Anya now that you took a moment to look at her, only without any respect. “I’m good, brat,” you smirked bouncing on your feet and rolling your shoulders to warm up a bit.

The bell rang and the round began, and in that moment everything else disappeared, nothing mattered but the fight. Your body moved on instinct, with barely any thought in your head as you rushed the woman and landed a few quick, precise jabs.

She stumbled back, still completely open as you went for the haymaker and stopped right before your fist collided with her face. “Come on,” you pulled back and clapped a few times before beckoning her to come closer.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as you smirked. She was faster than you gave her credit, but you weaved and dodged all of her attempts to hit you. You weren’t even keeping your guard up as she tried to go for your jaw. You just leaned back and brought your fist up, more bopping than hitting the side of her head, but she bared her teeth and tried to go for a haymaker.

You ducked and while her weight was off balance hooked an arm behind her knee and slammed her onto the floor. You didn’t follow up on it though, and instead just took a few steps back. You held up two fingers as she just blinked, looking at you as if she couldn’t believe what was going on. “One more chance, use it wisely, brat,” you said.

It wasn’t like you wanted to humiliate her, it was just that your instinct was to go for the killing blow, you needed to wait for the adrenaline to pass so you could follow all the rules. She tried again, though more cautiously this time. She was more precise, more focused, if you weren’t as relaxed and if she already wasn’t fighting at the pace you were setting she would have been a challenge, as it was, you just glided around the octagon, swaying and moving out of the way of her hits. She tried to knee you, but you just blocked her knee and pushed her back slightly. She stumbled and you went for a high kick. Her eyes widened, but once again you stopped before you could land the hit and stepped back once more.

“Warm up is over,” the easygoing smile disappeared from your face, leaving only complete focus on the fight. The cheers of the crowd became louder when you caught her in a clinch before she could even figure out that you went on the offensive. You hit her twice, breaking her hastily put up guard and then hit her face. While she regained her composure you went for a spinning back kick to the side of her head, ending the match with only a few hits and before the first round even ended.

“And the winner by knock-out is Y/N L/N!” the announcer shouted as the crowd cheered and you raised your arms high. You looked to the front row, to Tara, Zack and Susan cheering for you and, driven purely by emotions you swiftly climbed over the fence and ran over to them.

“Mom you were awesome!” Zack ran into your arms and Susan followed just a few moments later.

“Yeah? Your mom can still kick ass?” you lifted them up and kissed their cheeks.

“We have the strongest mom,” Susan giggled as her and Zack took the belt the judge was trying to give you. He looked uncertain but you just nodded, lifting your kids up higher as they raised the belt up high.

It was a short reunion with the octagon, only one fight, but you remained undefeated in your career, and you were satisfied. You fought one again, with rules and regulations and still won despite all of your instincts telling you to dispose of your opponent. And you got the chance to fight in front of your children, to show them who you once were, before the company, before training became just the way to stay in shape and capable of keeping your loved ones safe.

Eventually they gave the belt back to the judge and just hugged you tightly. With Zack and Susan still in your arms Tara stepped closer. Her eyes softened as she caressed your cheek, and then she just hugged both of your children and you at the same time.

It took years of trial and error, years of fighting to keep you and Tara and everyone else you loved alive, and you’d fight again if there was ever the need to do so. But right now nothing mattered but your family, and no matter what, as long as Tara and your children were by your side you would never be…

Lost.

A/N: So, that’s the finale, as far as the main story goes. As for the future of this story I want to do some side stories, some that are completely canon to Lost, and some that are more what-ifs than anything else. So, maybe I’ll write a few chapters about what would have happened if Tara called R over the night Amber first attacked her. Or maybe I’ll write something you request, so go ahead and tell me if there is something you’d really like to read. Truly, how often I come back to these two is as much up to you as it is up to me. Either way, thank you for reading!

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part

Taglist: @alexkolax

[penkura]

Fever Dream [2/2]

Note: Hi! This is part 2 of the request from the lovely @xxchaosjojoxx for Penguin x Reader! :) I finally got it done, I really hope you guys will like it as much as the first part! It may have gotten away from me, sometimes I don't know how to stop myself and just add more parts, that's probably why the WCI chapter of 'knowing' was almost 8k words. :')

Oh well, again, hope you all enjoy!

Part 1 here!

Taglist:

@bby-deerling | @xxchaosjojoxx

Penguin doesn’t think anything is wrong the next day, not at first anyway. He’s finally over his fever with strict orders from Law to take it easy and let others help him out, which he promises to do with the threat of toilet cleaning duty over his head, the thought of asking you or Shachi more than anyone else, especially when he goes to greet you that morning before breakfast.

Only, you give him a wide-eyed look before shouting your own ‘good morning’ and quickly walking past him, saying you’re starving and want to get breakfast right away, when Ikkaku asks what’s wrong. When your best friend sees Penguin is the reason you’ve run to the kitchen faster than she’s ever seen, Ikkaku just smiles a bit, laughing slightly.

“Oh it’s you, Penguin. Morning, happy to see you’re better!”

“Ha, thanks, Ikkaku,” before she gets past him to kitchen, Penguin grabs her wrist to stop her, “Is [Y/N] okay…? She’s never run away from me before.”

“Mm,” nodding, Ikkaku keeps grinning like a devil before Penguin lets her wrist go and she pats him on the shoulder, “She’s doing great, thanks to you.”

Ikkaku doesn’t tell him anything else, not even when Penguin tilts his head in confusion and tries to ask what she means, she just continues on to the kitchen. He follows suit shortly after, catching your eye again and giving you a smile, but it falters when you look away quickly, turning to Jean Bart and asking him something. That’s not normal for you, anytime Penguin speaks to you or gives you a smile, you always reciprocate, you have from the very beginning. When you joined the Heart Pirates you seemed so nervous about everything, Penguin made it his job to help you get comfortable, he didn’t really expect to fall in love with you over that time. He seriously thought you felt the same, that he’d be able to ask you out soon and start courting you.

But now he has to wonder what he did to make you be like this around him. A few of your crewmates notice the difference, shaking their heads at Penguin or snickering over it, especially when you finish your breakfast and take off before he can stop you. It starts to frustrate him, to the point Penguin looks at everyone still around with a frown, though some of them don’t meet his eye (granted they can’t even see his eyes but still).

“…what the hell happened?”

+!+

You don’t stay around Penguin for very long that day, if you can help it. Law paired you both up briefly to wash the dishes, Penguin being surprised when you put your headphones on and ignore him this time. Whenever you do any task together, the two of you would have a blast, chatting or swapping jokes or book recommendations, time flying by and you both feeling like you’ve gotten closer. You’ve been a Heart Pirate for five years now, there’s still so much Penguin has to learn about you he feels like, but if you won’t even talk to him now, it feels like your growing relationship, still a friendship, is starting to backslide.

And he doesn’t know why. You were fine two days ago, what happened yesterday?

“Shachi…” Penguin’s whining pulls Shachi’s focus from his task of checking supplies, Law wanting one more run to the island before you all take off. He barely looks at his lifelong friend before going back to making notes on what the ship could use extra of, since the next potential stop is weeks away from the current one.

“What’s up, Pen?”

“[Y/N]’s been ignoring or running from me all day!”

“Oh yeah?” He snickers a bit, knowing exactly why, Ikkaku had told him and Shachi may have let it slip to a few people who knew how smitten you two were with each other. He really did hope this was the push you both needed to get your relationship going.

“I can’t figure out why, and everyone keeps shaking their heads at me! Did I do something??”

“…wait, you don’t remember?” Shachi stops writing to finally look at Penguin, who shakes his head with a pout.

“No! And if someone says that one more time, I’m going to—”

“Dude, you told her you love her.”

Penguin stops ranting and rambling when Shachi says that, his eyes widening as he barely manages to get a quiet ‘huh’ out before his friend nods.

“Ikkaku said that [Y/N] told her you thought she was Ikka, and were asking how to tell her that you love her—”

“I don’t—” Penguin feels his face turning red and starts to pull his hat down over his face.

“—and then you kissed her before passing out from your fever. That’s the basic gist of it, man.”

Shachi is somewhat amused seeing Penguin fully cover his face with his hat, a bright red blush showing through what’s visible. Twenty-eight and still nervous as hell when it came to romance, no matter how times he’s flirted with other women in the past, it stopped the second he met you when you joined them. It was like a flip switched in Penguin’s brain that told him ‘she’s the one!’ and he’s been enamored with you ever since.

Not like you didn’t feel the same, he’d heard it from Ikkaku constantly. She tells him everything about what you say regarding Penguin, how much you like him back and wish you could make a move but you didn’t want to ruin your friendship in the process. A fair reason, though if you’d only known sooner how in love Penguin was, you probably wouldn’t be running from him all day. Penguin probably wouldn’t be going through such mental anguish and feeling like he’s done a terrible thing by kissing you like that.

He keeps muttering about how that was so wrong, he messed up, you must hate him now. How could you not? He probably just stole your first kiss! And without even asking if he could kiss you! That wasn’t fair to you, he just feels awful about it.

Letting him have a few minutes, Shachi eventually pats Penguin on the shoulder, giving him a smile.

“You should go sit down and talk to her. You guys need to work this out, but I doubt she’s mad at you.”

“Shach—”

“She’s probably more embarrassed than anything, based on what Ikka told me. So just go give it your best shot, Pen.”

+!+

Law pairs you up again that day to work on the crew’s laundry, something that shouldn’t take long or cause Penguin enough stress to make his fever come back. The only thing really stressing him out is the fact you still haven’t really spoken to him, except when you tell him you’re taking clothes to their respective owners. The few times you leave to do so, he tries to hype himself up and convince himself to just talk to you, see if you’re mad or if you’re willing to work things out with him.

When you come back the last time, no headphones in sight, he feels like he has a chance.

“Captain wants me to help him with something, can you finish here?”

His shoulders slump and he’s about to say that he’ll be fine, but instead Penguin shakes his head.

“No, uh, I mean, yeah I can, but…can we talk?”

You bite your lip a bit, Penguin not looking at you, and you shake your head slightly.

“What’s there to talk about? You were sick, it wasn’t on purpose.”

“But what I did was wrong, even if it was because of my fever.”

The way he sounds when he speaks almost sets you off, you almost start telling him that no it wasn’t a big deal, you have the same feelings for him. You were just shocked he returned them! Okay maybe a little embarrassed still, but that was all on you, he’s the first person you’ve ever kissed, you don’t know how to handle it yet.

“I,” you want to tell Penguin he really didn’t do anything wrong, but even though you can’t see his eyes for that hat, you feel like he’s giving you puppy dog eyes and you’re going to absolutely break down and try to kiss him if this keeps up, “I need to go!”

“No, wait, please!!” Penguin grabs your arm, nearly begging you to stay, “I…I’m sorry for kissing you! But I…I love you! So please…stop running away from me.”

You’re both silent for several minutes, you still don’t look at Penguin and it makes him so much more anxious. He needed to apologize, right? That would fix it, it would fix everything. He was delusional and didn’t think that fever dream was reality, he made a mistake and kissed you without permission or knowing he was even doing it. He felt so bad about it, that’s not how it should’ve gone!

“This wasn’t…how I wanted to tell you…”

“…how did you want to tell me?”

“I…I wanted to take you on a date,” he quietly speaks, while you turn around and watch him, Penguin doesn’t lift his head to look at you, “I was going to take you out yesterday but, well, you know…”

“Yeah, I know,” the laugh you give when you respond makes Penguin finally look back to you, he’s almost shocked to see the blush on your face as you slip your hand into his and lace your fingers together, “I would’ve said yes, if you asked.”

“…yeah?”

Nodding, you let Penguin pull you closer to himself, slipping his other arm around your shoulders in a hug that you return. He’s honestly glad to hear that you’d agree to a date with him, finally deciding to ask you today.

“So…will you go out with me tomorrow? Before we leave the island.”

“I’d like nothing more, Penguin.”

“And,” he takes a breath and sets his forehead against your own, giving you a better look at his pretty blue eyes and the blush across his own face while you smile, “Can I kiss you…for real this time?”

You giggle a but and nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“To your heart’s content.”

You’ll probably have to talk about things more later, but the grin Penguin gives you before properly kissing you makes you forget about anything else you wanted to say.

At least until Law comes looking for you and has to break you apart before you two take things too far, deciding that he’s not going to be pairing you up for tasks again anytime soon. You and Penguin making out isn’t what he meant by taking it easy.

[writingsbychlo]

UNDER THE MISTLETOE (day six)

summary; you cook dinner with vivianne, and you and azriel celebrate a joint mating anniversary with your hosts.

word count; 9638

notes; treatin' y'all good in this part, I promise.

“So, you and Azriel…”

Your hands stumbled a little in the bowl, jumping at the sounds of Vivianne’s voice as she sidled up beside you, knocking her hip into your own. She wasn’t looking at you when you turned to face her, instead just examining the bowl of mashed potatoes in your hands, and you shrugged. “Wha d’you mean?”

“I mean, that you’ve been mashing that poor bowl of potatoes for ten straight minutes now, and staring into the middle distance. You’ve missed, like, everything that I said.” She was giggling, a grimace on your face, and now that you were made aware of it, your arm was a little sore. Stopping the intensive mashing, you tested the consistency, happy to find they weren’t ruined at all, just incredibly smooth, and letting out a defeated sigh. 

You had been distracted. Kallias and Azriel were sitting in the other room, cracking open one of Kal’s best bottles of whiskey, and you’d been completely lost absorbing the feelings of happiness and amusement and hazy warmth that had been flooding down that new thread around your heart. This morning you’d woken up tangled in Azriel’s arms, your bodies pressed so tightly together you were practically one, and you’d had hardly any time to enjoy it. Despite wanting to make the absolute most of your holiday, there was no denying that you couldn't wait to get back home, and have nothing to do except lay in your new mate’s arms.

“I mean, something happened, right? After that kiss yesterday, he was even more all over you than usual. He could barely take his eyes off of you, it was adorable. He hasn’t looked any more like a lovesick little puppy than he did this morning when you told him to go and sit in the other room, and he comes to check on you every half an hour.” Your cheeks flushed with heat, and you had to bite at the inside of your cheek to hide your smile. “Not to mention, you two sort of reek of each other.”

You lost the battle with your blush, embarrassment filling you from head to two. You’d taken a bath last night, when you’d finally been able to move again, and a shower this morning, hoping to at least dampen that smell. At the look on your face, she laughed loudly, head tipping backwards.

“I mean, you’ve smelt like each other this whole trip, but you’re all over each other. This is just… stronger.”

“We’re mates.” The words burst out of you, feeling so unusual on your tongue, and her smile melted away, replaced with a look of awe instead. 

“You are? I mean, Kal and I had a suspicion, but-” She didn’t finish, cutting herself off by instead pulling you into a hug, squealing happily in your ear as she rocked you side to side. Gripping her back, you let the excitement of having told someone take over. It was exciting, it meant it was real and true, so much more tangible. Even though you hadn't completed the bond entirely, you would have very soon, not planning to let much more time pass before that bond was cemented and permanent between you both. 

“Tell me everything!”

“There’s not much to tell!” Hopping up to sit on the counter beside her, she worked to put the final touches on some of the dishes, just waiting for the gravy to come up to a boil. She wasn’t accepting that as an answer though, her brows raising, a pointed look being shot at you, and you could only chuckle. “There’s always just been this connection, you know? I just never thought we were equals, so I never expected it. This holiday, though. Lines had gotten blurred between us, we had a few almost moments, and then under the mistletoe yesterday, it snapped for me. He already knew, apparently, but…”

You shrugged, and she cooed a little, smiling to herself while sprinkling chopped herbs over some of the roasted potatoes. “He already knew? How long for?”

“I… I don’t know.” Your brows dipped with confusion, the question having entirely escaped you last night, and you tucked that little thought away into the back of your mind, a question to bring up later, when you were alone. 

“You know what this means, right?”

“What?”

“We’re practically bond-twins! We could have joint anniversary parties and everything.” She practically shook with her excitement, and you laid down from the counter, helping to transfer stuffing balls from the over tray into a neatly assembled pyramid on a plate for her. 

“What in all of Prythian and beyond is a ‘bond-twin’?”

“Y’know, like, our bond dates align and stuff!” You were positive this was something she’d just made up, gesturing to the traditional meal surrounding you both that you’d cooked up. 

She’d explained it all to you, about their first meal when they were bonded, how it was Christmastime and she cooked him a Christmas dinner, and how she likes to hand make it herself every year to remind them of that tradition. You’d been honoured to be a part of it, and so you certainly weren’t going to complain now about her creating another tradition involving you and your mate. 

Traditions were evidently Vivianne’s love language. 

Giving everything a final look over, and an approving nod, she began to stack all of the plates up on the centre island, to be taken to the table that Kallias had already prepared for you all.

“Alright, I think we’re ready. I’ll start taking some of these dishes to the table, and corral the male-folk into action. I’ll send them in to get the next dishes.” With a bowl in each hand, she disappeared with her roast potatoes and stuffing tray, and you could hear her voice bouncing along the corridors as she commanded your other halves.

She returned a moment later, Azriel and Kallias trailing behind her. Vivianne grabbed two more plates, Kallias carrying the large turkey that had been his wife’s pride and joy for the morning, and she glanced between you and Azriel. With a nod, she silently left, giving the two of you a moment, but not before shooting an exaggerated wink behind the shadowsinger’s back as the couple disappeared from sight.

Azriel cleared the kitchen in just a few large strides, coming to a stop before you and dipping down until he was brushing a soft kiss across your lips. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hi, Az.” Your heart lurched, thumping against its cage, wanting to escape and leap right into his waiting hands. He gave another kiss, lingering and sweet, and when you pulled back, you swore he’d never looked at you quite the way he was looking at you now. His stare was filled with so much love, so much affection, the kind of look that would bring you to your knees if it wasn’t for his arms around your waist keeping you steady. 

You couldn’t wait another minute.

Twisting in his arms, you searched through the drawers all around you, breaking free from his arms for just a second as he watched you with confusion, until you could find a spoon. With a triumphant noise, you marched back over to him, swiping the bowl of potatoes on the counter and dragging them across towards you. “You should really try these potatoes.’

He only chucked, hands settling on your hips once again, his fingers tucking under the edge of your shirt to brush idle circles against your bare skin. Sparks shot throughout your body just from his simple touch. “I will, don’t worry. They look good, I’m excited about the meal.”

“No, Az.” You scooped some up, bringing them up to his lips and pressing them to his smile. “You should try them right now.” His smile soon faded, eyes widening, and he pulled back enough to stare at the spoonful, licking over his lips, throat bobbing. 

“You made these?” Before you’d even finished nodding, his mouth was closing around the spoon, letting you pull it back from between his lips empty, and he offered a shaky smile around them.  “S’really good.”

You laughed, the sound wet with emotion, and he swallowed the mouthful. Taking the spoon from your hand, he tossed it into the sink with a clang, sniffling back against the tears beginning to line his eyes. Your trembling hands came up to cup his face, feeling that final part of the bond click into place between yourselves, hardening into something unbreakable now.

“You just accepted the bond.” He whispered the word against your lips, sealing it with a kiss before you could reply, both of you breathless and emotional, but not enough to care through the desperate kisses. “You accepted our bond.”

“You bet your fine Illyrian ass I did.” You mumbled right back, reaching around him with both hands to squeeze at that same ass, and he laughed against your mouth as you did. In return, he nipped your bottom lip, kissing the bite a second later, as your hands retreated to his lower back instead, his still sitting on your cheeks. “I couldn't go any longer without it.”

“Thank the gods, I don’t think my sanity would have survived waiting until we got home, but I didn’t want to rush you.” His nose dragged over your own, Vivianne’s question about just how long he’d known flicking through your mind once again, quickly suppressed by your hunger, the smell of the food sinking in around you. “C’mon, let's go eat. You put so much work into this food, it’d be a shame to waste it just standing here.”

One more kiss, that became two, that became three, before finally his nose was dragging over your own and he was letting you go. Taking the rest of the plates in your arms, you walked side by side through to the dining room, telling Azriel all about how you’d become bond-twins with Kallias and Vivianne. 

The pair were waiting patiently, the former was carving the turkey while the latter poured wine, neither mentioning your delay in coming to the table, but both offering you a sweet smile and a nod of silent congratulations and you took a seat at the table. Azriel took a seat beside you, Kallias joining his wife on their side of the large table, and she lifted her glass, ready to propose a toast. 

“To mates, and love, and the mistletoe that brings us all together.” She smiled, your breath held, and all your glasses remained raised in the air. Silence followed, and you shifted a little in your seat. 

“That’s it. Viv is horrible at speeches.” Kallias clarified, a laugh bursting out of Azriel and a protest from Vivianne as she demanded to see him do better. Your glasses clinked together, and Kallias cleared his throat. “This dinner is not just for our mating anniversary, and for your newly acknowledged love, but to celebrate new friends. After decades of turmoil and being turned against one another, we triumph in the face of all odds. Love is our reward for our bravery, and this dinner is merely a tribute.”

“That’s why you’re a High Lord.” You teased, and Kallias beamed, his mate scowling at having been proven wrong but tapping her glass with you all once again, before you lowered it down, taking a hearty sip of your wine. Simmering just underneath your love and gratitude, was the beginning of that mating frenzy. It was kicking into place so fast, the moment he’d taken that bite and the bond connected its final seal, your body began to react. 

His arm brushed against your own as he shifted to hand both of your plates to Kallias for meat, but your eyes were on him. Taking in the shape of his side profile, the slope of his nose, the angle of his jaw, the way he’d look so fucking good between your thighs-

His hand shot out, gripping your leg under the table and rubbing his thumb access your knee. The bond in your chest felt like it was plucked, vibrating inside you with need and lust, and you took another mouthful of wine in an attempt to swallow it down. Taking back his hands to retrieve the plates, you gave a soft sigh, relief flooding your body as the heat of his touch becoming absent left cold chills along your skin, soothing you enough to be able to think clearly. 

Kallias and Vivianne were caught up in their own moment as you reached for a bowl of seasoned vegetables, everyone working in harmony to serve their dinners. Adding a generous portion of seasoned carrots to your plate, they were quickly smothered by creamy mashed potato, your head snapping up to look at Azriel as he went for another large spoonful, dolloping that onto his plate. 

“Fuel up, my love. You’re gonna’ need the energy.” He only smirked, sweeping in to press a taunting kiss to your cheek. “I’ll take some of those veggies, too.”

So much for thinking clearly.

Adding vegetables to his plate, you tried to tune back into the conversation across from you, as the Winter couple began to talk. 

Despite having left you alone for the beginning of the dinner, the moment everyone had finished their servings and were beginning to eat, Azriel’s hand was back on your thigh. One held his wine glass, sipping at the contents casually as he listened to Kallias’ story, while the other was squeezing at your knee, stroking absentmindedly. 

After only a moment or two, it moved up an inch, those sweeps of his thumb that had gone over your knee were now above, and your breathing got moderately shallower as it did. Your glass was nearly empty already, and you didn’t want to risk topping it up. You were pleasantly buzzed, any more and you’d be edging towards tipsy, and you knew your head would already be spinning as soon as Azriel got you alone, no need to make it any easier for him. 

Your name was called, almost sounding impatient, and you cleared your throat, gaze snapping from the centrepiece you’d zoned out on and glancing between the other three people at the table. Azriel’s smirk was in his eyes not his lips, his hand sliding up higher again, your cheeks warming. Kallias’ brows were raised, a hint of a smile on his lips, and Vivianne look positively impatient. 

“Huh?”

“I said, what has been your favourite part of your trip so far?” She raised her brows pointedly, and you cleared your throat, hoping your voice wouldn't break as you tried to stay calm. You were a courtier, staying calm under pressure was your main skill, and you’d be damned if Azriel was going to reduce you to a pile of stuttering, love-sick goo with a few simple touches. 

Time to play his game.

Taking Azriel’s hand in your own, you wove your fingers together, tugging them up high to sit in your lap, and running a single fingertip in a featherlight trace across his knuckles. His hand twitched in your grasp, but he didn’t pull away. “Oh, there’s been so many wonderful parts to the trip already. I liked watching the snow fall outside, just chatting, it was very peaceful.”

“Even if you almost caught hypothermia?” She teased, falling right into a trap you’d set. You watched from the corner of your eyes as Azriel’s spine stiffened a little, those overprotective, unruly mate bonds kicking in full force at the mention of even the slightest danger.

“I think a few missing fingers or toes would have been worth it for the views.” A low growl shuddered across your side of the table, despite his best efforts to suppress it. “Then again, ice skating was also fun, and I think I was definitely more likely to lose a few fingers there, turns out I’m not great at it.”

Shovelling a huge heaping of mashed potatoes into his mouth to keep himself silent, the bond in your chest hummed with what felt very much like a warning. The game had turned, Azriel might have the upper hand on physical self-control, but you knew how to tug on all those brand-new internal instincts. 

“Not like Azriel would have let either happen, though.” You finally gave him a little something, his shoulders easing slightly as you acknowledged his ability to protect. “The markets were… interesting. We learned a lot, tried some new foods, and spent way too much money.”

“That’s the thing about the markets, no matter what kind of budget you set for yourself, they always get more from you.” Vivianne sighed, her husband’s eyes rolling fondly. 

“That’s because you have no self-control with money, Viv. You bought eight teacups this year. What do we need eight new teacups for, we already have about a hundred!” 

You snickered, releasing Azriel’s hand and placing it back down on the edge of the table, before picking up your cutlery and digging into your food. “And now, we have one hundred and eight.”

“For all the tea parties you hold with one hundred and eight guests?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kallias.” She smirked over her wine glass, turning to face him a little more fully. “We’d only have one hundred and six guests, we’d need a teacup each.”

“You are terrible.” He muttered, relenting in his argument and freeing a smile when he pinched his cheek, beaming through her victory. 

Just like that, dinner went on. 

Every time Azriel attempted to wrangle back the power, you tugged on another raw mating bond instinct, making sure to chafe it a little more, until he was so tense in his chair, or borderline squirming, before you let him relax. Eventually, he chose to keep his hands to himself, only letting the heated stares or occasional bursts of something inappropriate down the bond come across, but there was little you could do about those.

When the plates were piled high, and dessert was being debated, Azriel seemed like he was about to snap. His hands were balled into fists on his thighs, not even pretending to keep his gaze to himself as he faced you, staring longingly in your direction. 

At last, Vivianne stood, beginning to gather up the wine glasses. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton wool, throat thick with the tension, but you continued to play your best role. Standing too, you began to stack plates and cutlery, only stopping at Vivianne’s tutting. 

“Stop that, I’ll take care of it. You two go, already.”

“But we haven’t cleaned up yet!” You never wanted to be a bad guest, and you’d always been raised to help clear a table, no matter what. 

“Oh, you two are practically buzzing. Get out of here, go and have the rest of your evening together.” Azriel’s chair scarped back sharply, obviously needing no further convincing, his hand coming to sit on your lower back to guide you away. “Besides, my favourite part of the evening is watching Kallias wash up while drinking my wine.”

She winked at her mate, who only grinned back cheekily, the happy balance of a well-worn routine sparkling through. “Are you sure, we could stay, and-”

Azriel didn’t even try to hide the growling sound he made this time, stepping even closer to you, body heat even higher than normal rolling off of him in waves. The High Lord opposite you only laughed. “Stay and, what, subject us to being in the same presence as Azriel while he dresses you with his eyes some more?”

He followed his wife’s example, standing up to press a kiss on her cheek. 

“I’ve been there, I’ve been that male before. Go and put him out of his misery, my dear. We’ll be just fine here, we have traditions to uphold. I have pots to wash.”

You could only nod, offering a high-pitched ‘goodnight’ in response to their deeply amused glances, and Azriel’s hand tightened on your back as he led you from the dining room. The moment you had cleared sight and were into the empty corridors, that attitude changed, the last of his gentlemanliness slipping away, and with a surprised yelp, you were being twisted, and tossed over his shoulder. 

A second later, a harsh slap came down across your ass, and your breath rushed from you in shock. Shadows were curling around you as he did, everything going dark and your stomach twisting like you were falling, for only a moment.

Then, you really were falling, tossed onto the sheets of your bed, bouncing as Azriel stood at the end, a dark look in his eyes as he stared down at you. Your cheeks were flushed, breathless and eyes wide at the manhandling, and he smirked as your thighs clenched together. 

“You really would have made me wait, huh?” Tugging his shirt up and over his head, the pop-buttons under his wings snapped open in a flurry at his movements, toeing off his shoes to match, before he was crawling up the bed over the top of you. Your giggles faded out when his nose was tapping your own, his eyes a blazing inferno of passion and excitement. 

“A little patience wouldn't kill you, spymaster. Patience is a virtue, after all.”

That only made him smirk. There is nothing virtuous about what I will be doing to you tonight.” His wings flared, his head dropping to leave a bite on your covered shoulder, and your arms shook where you held yourself up. “Since you were so willing to make me wait, and to tease me all through dinner, I think it’s your turn now. Let’s see how long you can take it for.”

Grabbing you by the front of your shirt, he tugged you back up, following his body until he was divesting you of your top, bra following to the pile of clothes on the floor, and your arms looped around his neck. Skin to skin, he was so hot that you could have mistaken Winter for Summer, his hands setting fire to you everywhere they touched as he smoothed them down t your hips. Tugging them down roughly, your body jerked in his grasp, until the bundles for fabric were stripped down over your ass, scraping your skin in the most delicious way, and baring you to the elements. 

Tossing you back onto the bed with one kiss to your lips, he stripped the clothes the rest of the way off you, humming in pride at having you so bare before him, spread out on the bed like his own personal feast. He palmed himself through his jeans, constricting and stiff but doing little to hide the prominent bulge on the front, a wet patch of his arousal already beginning to soak through. 

At the sight of it, you bit your lip, and Azriel only smirked. Popping the button and undoing the zipper, he slipped a hand into his boxers. Pumping himself through the restrictive fabric, he left you untouched, letting your thighs rub together to find any kind of relief. 

“No, no, no. I have been rock-hard and desperate for you for hours. I couldn't touch myself, what makes you think you get to?” 

With a single tilt of his head, black bands of shadows were wrapping around your leg, your begging for mercy cut off as another looped over your mouth, thighs yanked apart and hips bucking, no relief to be had now. You gasped against the misty ribbon at your mouth, eyes finding his own, playing your final card as you sent nothing but desperation down that bond. 

It seemed to strike a match, adoration raging in his eyes as he looked at you. “You need me, baby?”

You could only nod, rolling your body down, anything, you needed anything, and he dragged one scarred finger down the centre of your stomach. 

“I suppose I could give you a little.” His tone was condescending, like he was doing you a favour as he slipped one finger into you, sinking all the way to the first knuckle as your slickness made it all so easy, and yet it somehow felt enough. Your back arched, a happy shudder racking through your body as he pumped it in languid, uneven bursts. 

He was searching, learning, every spot he brushed that would make you jump and twitch, all the ones that made you cry out behind the cuff at your mouth. He was too good, too fast, that one digit already bringing you spiralling towards bliss, your stomach knotting as you writhed on the bed. Dropping to his knees, he pulled his finger out, your whines barely passing your lips before it was replaced with his tongue, and when you screamed, there was nothing blocking it this time. 

His name bounced off of the walls in an endless circuit, his restraint having burnt up entirely, and he lapped at your core like you were his final meal. He alternated between fucking his tongue into you and teasing your clit, your mind bending with every touch, hanging on the precipice of something more, so close you could taste it in your mouth, and-

And he stopped, that traitorous bond connecting you both telling him just where you were, and a shamefully embarrassing cry left you as he pulled away, to nip and suck marks into your inner thighs instead. Your hands loosened in the bedsheets, knuckles aching from the grip you had, and an acute kind of pain zipped up your spine at the feelings that had been stolen from you. 

“Told you, my love, you have to wait.”

“Azriel, I want to cum!” You thrashed a hand weakly into the mattress, your evident frustration only getting you another binding, that hand pressed back down into the mattress by another horde of shadows, and you bit your tongue from spewing out curses.

It would do little good, because despite anything you might say, he was all but watching the juices drip from between your parted thighs as he lifted your legs to dangle a knee over each shoulder. “I’m sure you do, love. But I’m far too happy watching you right here to allow that. Your pretty pussy is begging for me already, clenching around nothing, but if I were to just-”

He slipped a finger back into you, relief palpable in the air as you gripped him as best you could, muscles clenching, the pad going right to that spot that made you moan his name, and he smirked. 

“Just like that, and you’re all needy for me all over again. Now why would I want to let you cum, when you weep so beautifully for me when I don’t?”

Leaning in, he sucked gently at your clit, lapping and rolling the bud with his tongue, matching every pace between his finger and mouth perfectly. “Azriel…”

You were nearing that place again, that release hanging just out of reach, out of touch, and you could do nothing. Your hands were held, you were pinned to the bed, shaking under his touch as he used you for his own enjoyment, and you’d be damned to admit how much you loved it.

As soon the climax was ripped away from you again, a loud shout of frustration left your lips, his response was merely a laugh, muffled by your thighs as he kissed away along the inside of each, never touching where you wanted. Blowing a cool hiss of cold air over you, your complaints and weak threats became nothing but a whimper, squirming in his hold as he wrapped an arm around each leg to hold you still. 

“You may be the calm and collected diplomat, but I'm the wicked torturer baby.” Licking a single stripe up the centre of your core, your hips arched up and off of the bed, following the wet touch as he flattened his tongue over your throbbing clit, before pulling away again. “You wanted to play to your strengths, now I’m going to play to mine.

Over and over again, Azriel dragged you to the brink, until you were gasping back tears of frustration, hours seeming to go by as he teased you but never gave you what you needed.

You’d lost your dignity, lost your strength as he dove back in, your body far too sensitive from what felt like hours of teasing. You were pushed to the point of tears, the air thick around you as you gulped in lungfuls of air on a hoarse throat, trying not to sob as your fingers scratched at bedsheets you worried you’d tear right through by the end of the night.

“Please, Azriel… Please, mate, please, let me cum…”

His growl at your words shot through you, his tongue buried inside of you flicking at the word ‘mate’ and he pulled back, pressing his finger down your clit harshly, licking at the juices that had flowed from around his lips. “Say that again.”

“Mate, mate, mate!”

He bit lightly at your clit, the graze of teeth so sudden and harsh that your body jumped from the sheets. He didn’t hold you back this time, your body crashing through a release so powerful that you felt like you blacked out. Your body seized, legs kicking out, and he continued to tease you through it until the sensations were far too much, the stimulation so overwhelming you had to fight your way up the bed to escape them, and when he finally let you go, you seemed to descend from Heaven itself. 

He didn’t let you get far, crawling onto the bed after disposing of his jeans, the night was far from over yet already, and he wiped his shining cheeks against the back of his wrist. Kissing his way up your body, over tender muscles and twitching limbs, he found your lips with his, the taste of you flooding your mouth as he kissed you deeply. 

He gave you a moment, a reprieve, filled with whispered praises and his lips on your body, leaving a mark everywhere that he could reach as you gathered yourself once again, pulling all the shattered parts back into one fragile body.

“You… godsdamn, Az. Who would have thought you’d be so mean in bed?” You teased, one hand flying over your face to cover your eyes, and he kissed along your forearm, to your palm, before linking your fingers and pulling away from your face. 

“That’s what happens when you tease me. Remember that, for the future.” He pecked the tip of your nose, your lips, and your chin, before settling himself into the cradle of your thighs. “Now that you’ve learned your lesson, though, you’ll learn just how kind I can be in bed, too.”

“Oh, more of that in store, is there?” Your legs hitched up around his waist, his chuckle light as he leaned in once again, noses bumping together. 

“So much more. I can’t get enough of you.” Shadows were dancing across your bodies, learning you just as well as he did, tickling at sensitive spots and soothing bites with cool touches, as he used everything at his disposal to blow your mind. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fantastic. How do you feel, you’re the one who’s holding yourself back?” Tugging him closer with the cross of your ankles at his lower back, you rocked your hips across his length, coating him in your juices, and he dropped his head down to groan.

“I feel like I want to fuck you, now. I’ve been waiting far too fucking long to take this anymore.”

“So do it.” He kissed you, shifting his body until he was lined up with your entrance, lips going slack against your own when the head dipped in.

Easing himself into you, he took his time, no rush as his hands kept your own pinned down to the mattress, eyes locked together, as he sank in. When his hips were sitting snuggly against your own, he smiled, another sweet kiss taken from your lips, his stray curls brushing your forehead as he leaned over you. 

He built his pace, piece by piece until he was pounding into you with reckless abandon.

“How did I get so lucky?” He mumbled, pulling back out and dragging along every inch, just to fuck back into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. “How did I get so lucky as to have you?”

It didn’t make sense, how such romantic words could come pouring from his mouth as he fucked you like there was no tomorrow, his hips colliding with your own enough to send the sound reverberating around the room, your cunt dripping around him, leaving more mess. You could only whimper, nudging your lips up into his for a messy kiss, and making sure to send everything you felt out to him, too fucked out to speak but you could feel it all. 

“Gods, you’re so- fuck.” Another harsh thrust, one that had your moaning cut short, eyes rolling. There was no space between your bodies as you tried to roll to meet him, to get more, but he seemed to understand.

Azriel pushed your knees up, barely slipping from you for even a second before he was plunging back into your core, your thighs pressed to your chest as he watched where he entered you. Your back arched, a raw scream tearing from your lips as he dove right back into a brutal pace. 

Slamming into you, over and over again as you writhed against the bedding, feeling that taut pulling that connected you both between your chests, every sensation he was feeling reaching you in equal measure, a violent storm of shared ecstasy crashing between your bodies. You could barely feel the bedding, your trembling legs, the chill in the room across your sweat-slicked skin, as an orgasm like no other began to coil in your lower stomach. 

“Az, Az, Az…” His voice was a chant, a plea, a prayer as you stared up at him. He looked like some kind of god, his head hanging back, golden skin shining with exertion and muscles flexing with every ragged breath he took. His skin was flushed, and when he pulled his head back forwards, your name spilling between those parted lips, you couldn't take it anymore. With a strength you didn’t know you still had left, you reached for that bond, tugging on it until his body fell forward over you, like you’d pulled a rope around his neck. 

Catching himself, just barely, on one muscle-corded forearm, he growled at your abuse of that thread, biting your lower lip roughly between his teeth and pulling, but you didn’t care. You needed him, needed him close, needed to feel every inch of him pressed up to you as he worked. Just like this was what you needed, the friction of his chest against your nippled as he continued to fuck into you, pounding towards another orgasm as your toes curled and nails scraped lines into his back by his wings, it was just what you’d wanted. 

“Oh, fuck! I’m- I’m-” Your words bite off towards the end of your sentence in a scream, your back leaving the bed entirely until you were pressed flush to him, barely breathing as your world exploded. You spasmed, body jerking through the thick of your peak as Azriel never slowed, never let up, pace growing uncoordinated and messy as he followed you right over that cliff, never ceasing in his shouts of your name. 

When it had finally become too much, his arms shaking too much to hold himself up anymore, he fell down against you, gasping breaths into his body as his lips hovered by your ears. Your tremors were contained by his weight, your legs still locked tightly around his waist, arms gripping to his back, whimpers still spilling from your lips as the aftermath of a climax like you’d never had before still wrought havoc on your body. 

His fingers traced your arm softly, mumbling something you couldn't make out as you twitched against him, his cum leaking out from between your still-connected bodies as he shifted weakly. 

“Holy shit, baby. That was fucking incredible.”

“Wish I could take some credit but that was all you.” You panted your way through the sentence, his equally breathless laugh washing across your body as he tucked his face into your neck. 

He shifted, moving to lay at your side, and he left a loving kiss on your shoulder as he did. Propping his head up with an elbow in the bed, he leaned over you, spreading his hand out over your stomach and stroking softly, until you turned to look at him. He held your gaze, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips, like he was controlling your own as you matched it. 

“I wish we’d been doing that since the moment we’d met. How long have we wasted, not knowing…”

“We have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn't make every other orgasm I’ve ever had before this seem like an utter waste of time in comparison.” Feeding his ego was like throwing meat to a wild animal, his smile growing wicked as he leaned over you, lips parting to catch yours in a filthy kiss, growling like a beast to match as he did. 

You didn’t wait, not for a second, to lace your fingers into his hair and hold him closer, legs crooking and flames sparking excitedly along your body as he teased his way into your mouth.

Azriel licked his way across your tongue, another flaming burst of heat sending your arousal spilling across your thighs, already slick from your first around, and you slide your hand down his chest. Grazing a nail across one of his firm nipples, a broken moan leaves him, your nails scratching lines down across his chest, defined abs, until reaching your destination. 

The head of his cock bumped the back of your hand, bobbing at the impact and already leaking once again, angry and red and hard, the mating frenzy making itself known. The second your fingers wrapped around his slicked shaft, your arousal and his, his hips bucked into your hand and he groaned into your mouth. 

Your grip tightened, pumping slowly, teasing enough that he fucked up into your fist just to get some relief, lips pressed together but no longer kissing. “Baby, don’t fuckin’ tease me right now. I’m aching for you, don’t do this.”

“Big words for someone who was so willing to edge me to the point of tears not long ago.” You let go entirely, tracing one finger under the head of his cock until he whined, before dipping down further. One finger traced across his sensitive sac, and his hand on your hip gripped so hard you swore the bruise might never leave, his whole body stiffening. 

As he moved to roll back over you, your hand shot up again, flat on his chest and pushing until he was sprawled on his back, shadows exploding out from around him like a stone tossed into a pool. Golden eyes went wide as he watched you climb into his lap, calloused hands fumbled to reach for you as you lined him up, before slipping easily back onto his cock, and sinking to sit fully in his lap. 

His head pressed back into the pillow behind his head, so hard the veins in his neck strained, and your plant your hand on his bared chest for leverage. Your fingertips left crescent moons on his chest, bouncing atop him and slowly building a rhythm on already unsteady legs. The last orgasm was still washing through your body, lingering effects that had yet to go away, and yet you couldn't wait any longer, every instinct in your body screaming to be connected to him once again. 

Propping himself up on his forearms to watch, Azriel licked slowly over his lower lip, watching the bounce of your tits before his face, the clamp of your thighs around his hips, the place where your body took his so wonderfully with every roll of your hips. His hands came up, wrapping around your hips to hold your body to his. “Fuck, sweetheart…”

“I know, I know.” You picked up the pace, breathless and exhausted but the flame inside of you demanded more, and you couldn't possibly bring yourself to fight the fire. You only wanted to stoke it. “Gods, Az, you feel so good…”

“Me? You’re perfect up there, such a good girl, making us both feel so good.” Dragging his body up some more, he took one bouncing nipple lightly between his teeth, a squeal on your lips as one hand flew to grip at his hair, tugging when his tongue smoothed over the bud, sucking lightly. “Taking what you want, looking so good while doing it. You’re my perfect little mess, leaking all my cum, screaming for my cock, such a pretty sight all fucked out.”

“Azriel!” Your hips slammed down into his, words going to your head and making every other thought clear out, until nothing but the raspy words were bouncing around inside, his praise encouraging you to work harder. 

“C’mon, baby. Come for me. Let me help you.” His mouth twitched to the other breast, his hand sliding down your stomach until he could thumb at your clit, and stars burst out in colourful bursts behind your eyes as they crossed. “Good job, squeezin’ me so tight, feelin’ so fuckin’ good.”

His words slurred together with bliss, your body jerking in his hold. His thumb kept spinning his lazy circles as his other arm banded around your waist, holding you down onto his cock. When he fell back, he took you with him, using your own method against you and yanking on that bond until you tumbled down with him. Planting his feet on the bed, he snapped. 

Fucking up into you needily, your jaw hung open, silenced by the force of the pleasure cascading through you. Every cell was alight, every nerve electrified. He gripped your ass in one hand to hold you steady, the other sliding up to your neck to hold you in place, and the utter helplessness was intoxicating as you surrendered to the man who controlled you.

“Yes, yes, yes, Az!” 

He grunted, your hands trying to roll back as best as you could to meet him thrust for thrust, your body preparing to give way as you had nothing left to give. “Fuck, I’m so close…” At his statement, you leaned in, brushing your nose over his and letting your lips tease over his. 

“Come for me, mate.”

A yell left his lips as that word tossed him over the brink, and when he came again, his hot spurts coating your core, you felt the last of your sanity melt. He kissed you through it, your lips meshing together as best you could as your bodies rocked together until you had no energy left to give. 

Laying spent atop his chest, your vision was practically spotting around the edge as you struggled even to breathe, lungs bursting with each pull of air. Your body slipped from atop him and down onto the bed beside him, to lay half across one wing as he let you go, both of you too tired to even care. 

You didn’t know if stable thought and sound mind would ever come back to you, and if you’d ever have the strength to move from these sheets again.

You’d already suspected Azriel would be good in bed, it had been the terribly personal discussion of many girls’ nights between you, Mor, Feyre and Nesta, but now you had the proof to back it up. Not only did he meet all of those claims, he excelled in every single one, leaving the bar you’d set so far behind in the dust that you couldn't even see it. 

Twisting your head to Azriel after finally catching your breath, you found him already looking at you. His head was nestled in your pillow, his chest still rising and falling quicker than usual, and he reached his hand out, brushing a finger over your temple and behind your ear to clear away a damp strand of hair. 

The wetness between your thighs was beginning to grow sticky, the sweat cooling on your skin was making you cold, and the weariness in your bones was making you tired, but you still didn’t want to move, to leave this bubble the two of you had entered. 

“Az?” Your voice was a whisper, feeling like anything more would shatter the moment, and his lips flickered at the edges, running that finger across your face some more, tracing the bridge of your nose now.

“Yes?” His voice was a whisper too, hoarse from the evening’s activities, and you shuffled closer pathetically, trying not to let the mess between your thighs spread to the sheets. 

“I love you.”

His smile grew, red rising on his cheeks, and his head rolled back to the side. His eyes closed, retracting his hand to sling it over his face, and you giggled a little at his response. “Can you say it again?”

“I love you.”

He hummed happily, a tidal wave of happiness finding you from him, and your own eyes closed at the feel of it. Moments passed, silence enveloping you both as sleep threatened to draw you under. When you felt his side of the bed dip, your eyes cracked open, watching him roll onto shaky legs and wander away towards the bathroom, perky ass still bearing the nail marks you’d dug into it, and you bit your lip to hide your chuckle. 

He returned moments later, a damp cloth in hand, kneeling at the edge of the bed and tugging you towards him by one ankle. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I made a mess of you, I get to clean you up.” Your legs fell apart, too tired to protest at all, but you couldn't look at him as he did so, head falling back onto the bed to stare up at the ceiling. He traced the cold cloth up the insides of your thighs first, gathering his release that had already spilled out, and goosebumps followed in its wake. 

“You don’t get to clean me up, you have to. It’s not an honour to wipe up cum.”

A loud, gravelly laugh burst from him, fingers trembling between your legs as he began to gently wipe your folds clean of both your juices, leaning down to press a kiss to both bent knees. “It is an honour, but when you say it like that, it sounds gross. It’s an honour to get to care for you, to have the privilege of making a mess to clean up, to have you trust me to intimately and fully. To let me see every part of you. Mind, body, and soul.”

“Only you could make aftercare so romantic, Az.” You sighed, cupping a hand over your eyes as a weak laugh followed, and his pride was palpable in the room even without the bond. He wiped himself down as he walked away, swiping his pyjamas from where they’d fallen from your bed to the floor in such a hurry, and pulling on the bottoms. 

With the top, however, he lifted you up, wrapping it over your neck and helping you to guide an arm into each hole. He got himself resituated on the bed, under the covers this time, tugging the blankets out from under your body and holding his arm up, welcoming you into his chest. “C’mere, already.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, dragging tired limbs across the mattress until you were wrapped up in him, his arm, the blanket, and a wing on top of it all, nose to nose on the same pillow. He took advantage of that proximity, leaning in to kiss you through a smile. 

It felt surreal, to possibly ever feel this happy, to have found something you’d always dreamed of, with the man you never thought you could have. If only you hadn't wasted so much time putting yourself down. 

That thought sent something from the back of your mind crashing back to the front, and you pulled back from him by an inch with a gasp. His lips were still puckered when his eyes fluttered open, filled with confusion. “I have a question, something I was talking about with Viv before!”

“We just finished having mindblowing sex, your legs are practically still shaking, I was kissing you, and you’re thinking about someone else? I’m kinda’ offended, that was some of my best work.” You scoffed, wanting to deny his claims, but like a traitor, your right leg gave a sudden spasm, as if to emphasise his point. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to get possessive.”

“Going to get possessive?” You teased, and he shrugged.

“I could be so much worse, baby. I was well-behaved tonight, just you wait.” You reached a hand down to steady your twitching leg, and Azriel watched with a smirk, waiting for your question, despite his complaints.

“It was something she said about you, so, I am thinking about you!”

“Well, that’s much better then. Proceed.” Your eyes rolled at him, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, followed by a nip, and your face scrunched up a little. “You already knew about our bond, why didn’t you say anything? How long did you know?”

His jaw dropped a little, obviously not expecting something like that, and before he could even think about turning away, you settled a hand on his cheek, fingers tracing his face reassuringly as you smiled. 

He paused, seeming to think it through, a blush spreading across his face under your fingertips, and embarrassment crawled across the bridge between your hearts. You met it with unyielding support and affection, a soft puff of breath leaving him. 

“I wanted you to fall in love with me organically, if you were going to fall in love with me at all. I knew I’d never be content knowing that you might only be with me for the bond, and if we were going to have a relationship, I wanted it to be because you wanted me.” He rolled his lower lip between his teeth, obviously not finished, and the blush darkened. “You’ve known me for so long, you’ve meant so much more to me than I could have possibly begun to understand for decades, but it wasn’t until… recently that I put those feelings into perspective.”

“Recently?”

“I began to understand what they meant.” You didn’t miss the way he avoided the second part of your question again, but he was getting something off of his chest, and you needed to hear it all. “I realised you weren't just my best friend, you were so much more to me. Not long after I realised my true feelings did the bond click for me. But, you’ve known me. You knew how much I let that desire control me, to do stupid, selfish things. I couldn't let you think it would be just about that. If I was going to win your heart, you had to be able to trust it was for me, not just the bond.”

“My heart is yours, Azriel. It was for a long time before I discovered the bond, you just never knew. You know now, right?”

“I do, and I don’t intend to ever give it back.”

Your smiles matched one another, the light in the room now only provided by the dying flames of the fireplace, the two of you keeping one another warm, tucked in together. Finally, it was time to ask again, “How long?”

Azriel’s gaze dropped from your own, and he took your hands in his instead, raising them up to kiss your knuckles. 

“How long, Az?”

“Don’t be mad.” Your eyes narrowed a little at his fragile whisper, barely audible words, and under the weight of your stare, he slumped, a confession rising. “Almost four years.”

Your inhale was so sudden you choked on it, spluttering a little as the air got trapped in your throat, and his alarmed gaze snapped back to you. “Four years?”

“Are you mad?” his grip on your hands tightened, and as you regained control of your breathing, he winced. “You seem mad.”

“No, Azriel, I’m not mad. I’m heartbroken.” His face fell, concern morphing to despair, and you shook your hands free from his, clutching his face in both now. “Heartbroken for you. You’ve known for four years, and you’ve just suffered with that?”

You were reeling, guilt eating you alive, stomach twisting as a replay of the last four years of your life spinning through your mind. 

“I’ve been on dates in the last four years. I’ve- oh, Gods.” You’d been on dates, you’d been on more than just dates, all unsuccessful and pitiful, and it was Azriel’s arms you’d fallen into to complain about them all, to seek comfort. He only shrugged now, reclaiming your hands with his and resting his forehead against your own. 

“I know, but it made you happy.”

“Az, you’re breaking my heart right now.”

He only shook his head, wrapping you up tighter in his hold. “Love, if you never fell for me, I’d have happily stayed friends with you for our entire lives. Just because I was in love with you, didn’t mean you’d love me back. The bond is special, but love is more so. It doesn’t guarantee mutual feelings. Having you in my life at all was always enough for me.”

You were shocked, guilt and adoration waging a war inside of you, and your eyes closed to block in tears that were threatening to break free. You didn’t know if they were from sadness or joy. “Four years, Az…”

“It’s nothing. Compared to how long we’ll live, it-”

“Don’t! Don’t pretend like that.” Your voice cracked, giving way to the emotions overwhelming you, and a sad sound left Azriel in response. He nuzzled a little closer, until your lips were brushing with every word you spoke: “Just because we live so long doesn’t make time any less precious. Four years is a long time, Az. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know why it didn’t snap sooner for me.”

Your lip wobbled, and he steadied it with a kiss, desperate for understanding and needy for comfort, and you could barely bring yourself to kiss back you were so shaken. When a sob left you instead, he shushed you quietly, rolling over you until your back was pressed into the mattress, and he was kissing away every tear, every spot on your face, until a wet laugh was finally pulled from you. 

“Please, my love. Please, don’t cry.” A final kiss, salty and wet, to your lips. “I’m happy it took so long. I got the pleasure of watching you fall in love with me, under no influence. I got to watch every smile that was something more, every blush I drew from you, every compliment you took to heart. I got to watch you fall in love with me, and it was the best thing that I ever did.”

“You’re killin’ me, Az.” 

“I got to feel the moment that you knew for certain I was the one you wanted forever. It made it all so worth it. I’d have waited four hundred years for you if that’s what it took. I’d have waited forever, and if it never came, I’d have spent my life going on vacations and stealing cuddles, or curling up in the library on cold nights to read together.” He leaned in, leaving another kiss on your lips, and you managed to return it this time, looping your arms around his neck to hold him close. “Do not cry for me, because I’m not sad or scorned. I’m so godsdamned happy. I’ve never been happier.”

He sent a flood of that happiness to you to emphasise his point, your eyes watering again, and this time you knew exactly which emotion had brought it on. “I love you.”

“I know.” He murmured, tugging you back into his chest as you cried again, letting you bury your wet face in his neck. 

“I love you, Azriel.”

“I love you too. My beautiful mate.” Rolling onto his side again, you clung onto him, the mere thought of letting him go sending a surge of ice-cold dread down your spine. Any distance at all felt tragic, your body trembling as you finally let go of so many locked-up emotions, so much overwhelming love for him, his hand smoothing over your hair, another tucked under your shirt to trace your spine soothingly. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“I love you. So freakin’ much.”

“I feel it.” He tugged on that bond, your chest warming at the intensity of it, heart beating hard in reply. 

“I love you. I love you.” Pulling back, you found his cheeks wet too when you pulled back, his eyes a little puffy, silently joining you in the tears, and offering a shaky smile. You pressed a kiss to his lips, frantic and quick, a series of them to follow. “I love you. Don’t ever forget it.”

He met you kiss for kiss, urgent in the dark as such a heavy burden was lifted from his chest and yours. “How could I possibly forget, when your love is the thing I treasure the most?”

[everlasting-luv]

Our First Fight

/// A Stanman Drabble ///

Eric was so exhausted.

He works at a shitty warehouse job and he's in his last four months of college. Fuck...between finals and working required overtime, it's a miracle he's still standing. The only good thing about his life at the moment is his boyfriend, Stan.

He spent years pining after his childhood friend. He never thought in a million years he would win the heart of his beautiful best friend, but he did. Almost a year ago, Stan confessed to him with tears in his eyes; telling him how he's had feelings for Eric for years now but was too scared to tell him.

He remembers that moment like it was yesterday. They were sitting in the middle of Eric's small apartment living room. They had been playing games when the power had suddenly gone out. Alone together, in the dark, Stan confessed and then kissed him.

Just thinking about it again sends shivers down his spine. Only Stan ever had the power to scatter goosebumps up and down Eric's arms with a simple glance.

Their first kiss was like magic.

Now, it's a year later, and they live together. The last couple of months have been rough because Eric had been swamped with studying and working OT at his job. He hasn't had the time or energy to take Stan on a date or anything.

Hell, sometimes when Eric comes home, Stan is already in bed. It's like they hardly see each other anymore. Lately, it feels like they're roommates as opposed to boyfriends.

He just needs to get through the stupid finals and his last few days of overtime, then things can go back to normal.

He parked his car in the reserved parking spot that Stan always let him have, considering Eric gets home so late. Otherwise, he'd have to park in the street. He grabbed his empty water bottle and lunchbox from the passenger seat and began to trudge his way up the stairs, back to his apartment.

He felt like he was walking through molasses. He never hated stairs so much in his life.

He opened the door to the apartment and shut the door behind him, kicking his shoes off. Stan was busy tackling the mountain of dishes they both accumulated and he could hear the laundry going. From the looks of it, Stan was also trying to clean up the living room.

"Eric, can you help me with some of this please?" Stan asked with exhaustion laced in his tone. He sounded raspy and like he was starting to get sick.

Eric, however, didn't notice it. The first thing he felt was irritation. He couldn't even get a chance to relax and take a shower before Stan had to nag at him again.

Which isn't fair to Stan. He wasn't nagging. Overworked, tired Eric Cartman doesn't see the difference, however.

"Why did you decide to do all this now? It's nine- thirty." Eric said, flat and annoyed. Stan wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Eric, please? I can't think straight in this pit. I've been trying to clean for the last two hours. I'm tired and I just-"

"You're tired?! Are you shitting me?! I've been pulling seventy hours at my shit job these last two weeks because it's required, plus I have to study for finals on top of that!" Eric snapped, feeling the anger boiling in his gut. Stan was as still and quiet as a statue. "For fuck sake, at least give me a chance to fucking wind down before you ask me to do shit! Jesus Christ!"

Stan's eyes were as wide as silver dollars and his hands were gripping either side of his head. As soon as Eric looked at his boyfriend and saw the tears trickle down his flushed cheeks, his stomach dropped.

"Don't....please don't...yell at me..." Stan spoke in a quiet, broken voice before he began to cry. Eric dropped everything in his hands and rushed for him in the kitchen. He reached for Stan, but he flinched away from him as he pressed himself into the corner, staring up at him with wide blue eyes.

Fuck...I'm such a piece of shit...

Eric felt hurt that Stan flinched like that, as if he actually thought Eric would hit him. Nothing before this moment had ever made him feel so fucking horrible.

"Stan...I'm so sorry. I'm not mad at you, okay?" Eric tried to reason with a much softer voice. He shed his coat off and tossed it aside, softly taking Stan's trembling hands from his face as he sobbed. "Baby, come here. I'm sorry."

"I...I know you're tired. I know you're overworked. It's just..." Stan mumbled as Eric let go of one of his hands and held the side of his face instead, wiping the tears away.

"It's just?"

"You haven't so much as looked at me or talked to me in days. Now...you're yelling and cursing at me...I'm scared you're going to...going to leave me." Stan broke into a fit of sobs again as he finally expressed his fears. Eric, on the other hand, felt his jaw hit the floor.

Did Stan honestly believe Eric would ever leave him? Seriously?!

Eric wrapped Stan in a tight hug. His heart was breaking hearing his beautiful, loving boyfriend cry...because of him.

He realized now that he's been awful to Stan. When Eric was too exhausted to talk to him, Stan saw that as a cold shoulder. When Eric left without saying goodbye, Stan saw that as indifference. When Eric didn't bother to eat a meal with him and go straight to bed instead, Stan saw that as uncaring.

He never felt like such a shitty ass boyfriend.

"Stan, I love you more than anything. I'm not going to leave you, are you kidding? You're amazing, loving, beautiful...fuck, you're everything I ever dreamed of." Eric held the back of Stan's head, threading his fingers and burying his face in his soft black hair. "I'd be an absolute moron to even think about leaving you."

Stan clung onto Eric as if he was going to fall through the floor, eyes still wide and filled with tears as he listened. Eric pulled away just enough to cup Stan's face in his hands, giving him a soft, loving kiss before pressing their foreheads together.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. You don't deserve that. And...I'm sorry I've been neglecting you these last few weeks. From now on, I'll make sure to tell you what's going on and when I feel overwhelmed, okay?"

Stan nodded, wiping the remainder of his tears from his face. Eric pressed a kiss to his forehead before quickly ripping away, forcing Stan to look straight up at him.

"Stan, you're burning up! Are you sick?!"

Stan gave Eric a confused look, pressing his own hand to his head. "I am?"

Eric chuckled, pulling Stan away from the kitchen by his wrist. "Come on. Let's get you some medicine and then go to bed. I'll take care of the dishes."

"But-"

"Stan. You're sick. I got it, okay? It's the least I can do for being a shit boyfriend lately."

Eric gave Stan some medicine and helped him get into lighter clothing before helping him into bed. As soon as he got him settled, Stan threw his arms around his neck, burying his burning face into his shoulder.

"You're not a shit boyfriend. I love you."

Eric felt as if he could cry too. What did he do to deserve someone as sweet as Stan Marsh?

He'll never understand.

"I love you too." Eric whispered back, kissing Stan passionately like he deserved.

Stan deserved so much better than what Eric has been offering him the last few weeks. He's so used to resorting to anger, but with someone who feels so much more than the average person, like Stan, he needs to be gentler. He needs to be calm and communicate properly.

This would be their first, and only fight. Eric would make sure of it.

[igglemouse]

The sun cast its golden hue over my new town of Oasis Springs as it brought in the hopes of a new day. The simoleons from yesterday a reminder of my success and also what might be possible for me here.

But while I considered my last food sale a financial success it was certainly a failure socially. My mystery guy did not stop by which had me wondering if perhaps I had failed my first impression. Maybe that's not it? Perhaps the waffles left a lingering ill taste on his lips and he's decided my little offerings are just not enough?

Or...maybe he's taken?

I chomp down on my waffle with that thought bouncing through my head. That was far more likely, wasn't it? He was very handsome and I could tell he was brimming with confidence, the odds of a man like that being single? Very very low.

Later in the day, after a shower and some cleaning, my phone rings and it is someone I've met through my food stand but it's not the person I hope. It's Daniella, the girl I met yesterday who came by a little too late for a plate.

After introductions she tells me that she wishes to be my guide for the city. Hinting and teasing at private parties that she can drag me into and perhaps I'm far too eager to tell her I'm down for it because the mysterious tone she takes on after that kind of worries me.

Honestly, I was just being nice. A girl needs friends, doesn't she?

I head outside and set up. Calling out the usual. Waffles, tortillas, brownies, three dishes that were becoming an early staple of mines.

If only the air wasn't different. Less hurried, less eager, and less people. Perhaps it was too dry and just a little too hot but the result? Ninety-six simoleons.

The weight of my daily gains was both light and heavy. I didn't quite reach my goal but I was thankful for every simoleon made. It was a reminder that success would not be achieved in a straight line and that there would be ups and downs along the way.

The sizzle of my pan brings me solace and a promise of a future to come. The simoleons will be there. I'll work hard, I'll learn a new recipe every day, I'll get better and better to where my skills cannot be declined.

I am a student of flavor and my latest design, simple sliders, are sure to help me have my best day. After all, they are small, easy to plate, and even easier to eat. Perfect dish for a food stall, someone can drop their simoleons off on the table and take one to go. If only they are good.

I take a bite, letting the flavors dance around in my mouth. When it comes to any sandwich it's about creating the perfect mix of meat, bread, veggies, and condiments and I think I've hit the spot. It's a small confirmation of my work but not the final one. That test will come with my customers, of course.

The day stretched on with the promise of little which was expected. I figured I would sit down and find something to eat. Maybe even go to a bookstore and pick up recipe books? Something like that, have a quiet night in and prepare for tomorrow.

The ping of my phone presented another idea. The gym. With the curious man whose been lingering on my mind. When he asks I tell him maybe but we all know my curiosity and quite frankly my desire to see him again will not allow me to decline this invitation.

I'm just surprised he was able to find my number?

When I arrived at the gym I wondered how I had ever missed it. It stood large and looming over the busy street, the other businesses clearly benefitting from the crowd that it drew.

Once inside I met our mystery guy and he wasted little time leading me upstairs, claiming that a session would begin soon and he did not have time to waste.

The session? Yoga.

Fortunately, the class was small. Two others, including him, and he of course took a mat behind me. I laughed inwardly but a man will be a man I suppose? If he's going to admire the female form then I suppose I'd rather it be mines than the girl next to him at least.

Either way, the session starts and reluctantly and clumsily I follow the instructor. She starts with easier poses of course. Breathing exercises, she called them, which were more about relaxing and finding your mental center.

Eventually she would move on to more difficult ones. Stretching out legs and balancing on one foot. Nothing impossible for a beginner but I do think we both looked like fools trying to keep up.

We end on the flat of our backs, eyes closed, and letting our muscles find their natural states. Yoga is a lot harder than it looks but I admit it does feel very rewarding? Perhaps it is something I could get into? Especially if our mystery man is into it...

When I first step foot in this gym my first thought was how chilly it was inside. I almost wondered if I should have brought a coat! Now, I'm thankful for it, the cool air was far more welcome after our little workout and I was thankful that it kept my brow from glistening with any sweat as Pascal (that's his name by the way, so no longer a mystery guy to me) pulled me over for a conversation. A 'get to know each other' conversation, by the way, and thankfully in Selvadoradian so that saves him having to hear my terrible accent.

"So why this?" I ask. "Why yoga?"

"Orders of the captain," he says casually, as if I'm supposed to know what that means. Is he a sailor or... "He says it helps with the flexibility, prevents injuries, and helps with mental focus. All important on the field."

The field? I was still confused until I thought on it a moment longer. He's talking about a sport.

"I kick a ball for a living," he assists, that confident tone of his pulling me in closer.

So this is who I sat across from, Pascal Alcocer, a name that in itself seemed to carry a significance to it. At least to him. To me it was but another name. I think he liked that, he liked that I was ignorant of who he was. Perhaps it's why he's interested in me.

"You've never heard of me? Truly?" he seems sincerely confused. I just stare at him and shake my head. Revealing that I'm really no big fan of sports ball. Oh, don't get me wrong, fútbol as it is called back home is massive but it simply never pulled me in. It's just a bunch of people kicking a ball around in the end.

"I'm sorry," suddenly I feel ignorant. Here is this great athlete, presumably, setting out time to get to know me because he feels like I should already know him. "I just don't watch-"

"No! Please! Frida, is it?" I nod and bite down on my lip, my name seemed to slip so naturally from his lips. "It's refreshing, actually."

I am sure it is. If he's a big time athlete I can imagine he has women buzzing around him daily. Throwing themselves at him, begging for a moment of his attention and wanting a lot more. The more I think about it, the more I dislike it. Dating a man like this would be stressful, wouldn't it?

As I think about it he tells me more about himself. He's a young player with a lot of promise, a 'midfielder', he tells me. That word is filled with pride. I have no idea what it means but I can tell just by how he says it that its a special role on the team, perhaps like that of a sous chef? Either way, he says he plays for Oasis FC which again has little meaning to me beyond the fact that he plays for a professional team but he assures me he's not the big deal some make him out to be.

"I still have lots to prove. I don't quite have that big contract yet but everyone thinks it's a matter of time," he leans back as he says this, realizing that he's spent most of the time talking.

"Sounds like a lot of pressure," I say finally.

He gives me a stern nod and waves away that thought entirely. "I'd rather have the expectations to be great than be regarded as a failure...so, what about you?"

"Oh," where do I go from there? "I just opened up a stall and hope to see where it goes?" Watcher that sounds so lame in comparison. "I just enjoy cooking I guess and-"

"You are adorable, do you know that?"

Well that has me chewing on my lip again and has my face feeling a little warm.

"I-I like you too..."

I find the comfort of a bar soon after, too restless to head home and needing a drink to think on the night I've had with Pascal. First impression? I was impressed.

Sure, the man was so full of confidence that it was bordering on cockiness but I have a feeling that it takes pure arrogance to become a professional athlete.

It was also very clear that was into me. After all, he sought out my number and invited me to a gym and made sure he had a good look of me. Should that make me happy or should I worry that he's a teeny bit pervy?

I don't know. The good thing about a drink is that it allows me to not overthink any of what happened and look forward to seeing him again which, according to him, will be sometime tomorrow...

Episode List - Next

The wonderful public gym lot is by @streneesims

[acciocriativity]

The Cat and The fox III - PSH & JWY - TCTF SERIES

(Pictures aren't mine, credits for the original creators)

Pairing: hybridcat!seonghwa x reader x hybridfox!wooyoung (non-romantic)

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings/tags: mentions of abuse and trauma (not explicited); hurt/comfort; happy "ending"; hybrid au; hybrid series

WC: 2,7 K

N/A: This is the official ending of The Cat and The Fox, BUT if you guys are interested, I'm all for making little snipts of the past and the future for this story with your requests!

Ateez Masterlist

The Cat and The Fox I

The Cat and The Fox II

Seonghwa was the kitty and Wooyoung was the foxy. It took me a while to get to the introductions, since they could barely look at me, even less talk to me.

Some would dare say they were some of the easiest people to live with, but that would be a false statement of a selfish person. They were the hardest roommates to live with for the same reasons, one could say the opposite.

They didn’t ask for a single thing, not even a drop of water.

“Of course, I’m sure, you can just grab what you want”.

The both of them looked at each other before looking at the table full of the different side dishes, fried chicken and the two bowls full of rice in front of them. Then, finally, they moved slowly for the chopsticks.

“Thank you, we’ll eat well”, Seonghwa said and both took a bite of the steaming rice.

That was the first time I heard his voice. It was a sharp contrast to his soft and shy demeanor and he himself seemed shocked to hear it, or maybe he was shocked he actually said something, since his eyes went big, and he recoiled on the chair.

He chewed slowly, eyes focused on the uninteresting table cloth while my eyes were on him, he was clearly tense as his fluffy gray ears were glued to his black hair. So I looked down to my own untouched food and started to eat too.

I tried to be more discreet as I looked over to Wooyoung. It was a weird sight to see Wooyoung, who as a fox had zero shame, be this meek as a human, no, in his human form. Both of them seemed embarrassed, and I thought at first it was just because I saw them naked, which sure, who wouldn’t be dying inside at that situation? But as soon as I looked his way, he seemed to recoil in his seat like he wanted to become smaller and invisible, and I got a glimpse of his tail hugging his own waist.

That was really the same person that just demanded space for himself on my lap as a fox?

If I ever find those moth—

“It’s delicious, thank you for the food and… for everything else”, Seonghwa was the first to spoke up, yet he didn’t look up to me.

Seonghwa as a cat did seem more quiet and calm since the beginning, but he wasn’t like this after being comfortable in the house. They clearly rather their animal forms, but then, why they don’t… shift?

“Yes, the food is excellent, thank you” Wooyoung said something for the first time.

“Well, thank you, I try to cook most days when I’m back from work”, I said as I smiled at them.

His voice was less deep, yet it sounded raspy like Seonghwa’s, and it was clear that they didn’t use it for some time, but I kept this and every other observation to myself.

“Try these two together”, I said as I grabbed one bite of the kimchi and put on Seonghwa’s bowl, then one bite of the rice cake right beside it. I did the same for Wooyoung.

The air seemed less tense around us after that moment, but as I went to sleep that night, I couldn’t call any of that progress.

They were so quiet that an easily distracted person could forget they were in the room

I had to go to work in the morning, but as soon as I got back, it was like I was all alone again. The house was spotless and the blood on the carpet disappeared, it was like nothing happened yesterday. However, the smell of food cooking was unmistakable.

“Seonghwa? Wooyoung?”, I called in a soft tone. I already learned the lesson of not screaming in the house, not even when I’m trying to catch their attention.

There was no response.

I knew at least one of them had to be in the kitchen, but they weren’t on speaking terms quite yet. When I showed them where I left breakfast and lunch for them, I got soft thank you’s again, but nothing more.

My steps announced my presence to the whole house, so at least they would know to expect me soon. It was clear they got easily scared by anything, really.

I went to my room first, left my bags on the bed and went to take a shower. The hot shower helped clear my mind of my current worries. I couldn’t bring my stress over to them, when they were so on edge around the house, yet there was still a big chunk of work waiting for me after dinner.

When I stepped a foot into the hallway, the house was silent as it was before, and I debated calling both of them again, but decided against it. They’d show up when they wanted to, and they’d talk to me when they wanted to. It was hard to keep that in mind, but their decisions deserved that respect and patience.

“Hmm, exc-”

I gasped as my soul almost left my body. I turned around to Wooyoung, just two steps away from me. His face went pale, and his eyes were wide, as he looked around, and I noticed how his tail was around his waist again.

“I’m… I am so sorry, I did not mean to scare you”, he gestured non-stop with his hands. “I wanted to… I just thought that you, no, miss, I-”

I didn’t try to interrupt him, not when that was the most he ever talked to me, I only smiled, a reassurance smile I hoped, as I nodded along.

But he stopped trying. He gulped while playing with his own fingers, looking over my shoulders, but never to me.

“You just wanted to… say that dinner was ready? To call me over to the kitchen?”.

He nodded in an eager way while barely meeting my eyes for a second, then turning to his room.

I didn’t notice the door half open, nor did I hear the light creek of the wood when it opened. It was that moment I released how good they were at being invisible.

“So, let’s go downstairs together then?, I asked as I smiled, and his attention was on me again.

I saw the way his lips curled up, before it faded to a neutral expression. He nodded.

“It smells delicious. Did you both make it or one of you likes to cook more than the other?”, I asked as I walked down first without looking back at him.

Even when we walked, I only heard my footsteps. There were two beats of silence before he answered.

“Seonghwa-hyung and I made it, but he does not cook often”.

There was this smile on his voice, even he hid it off his expression. He sounded happy, and proud and I couldn’t hold my own happiness.

“Oh, speaking of him, is he going to come eat soon?”, I asked as I looked over to him, waiting by the stairs.

Wooyoung looked to the kitchen. The door wide open, yet not a single sound came from it for a few seconds. Then, soft steps reached my ears. A second later, Seonghwa’s flustered face was out, the rest of his body hiding.

“Hm, yes, I will. I was just checking to see if the food was still warm”, he stumbled a bit over his words and disappeared again.

I noticed the table was already set, which left me without nothing to help them with.

“It was really sweet of you both to make dinner for us, thank you”.

A big noise came out of the kitchen, almost like a pair of chopsticks hit the metal of the sink from a high place.

“I’ll go help him, please, take a sit. We want to thank you for your kindness”, Wooyoung said in such a confident tone and a small smile on his face that surprised me a little, but he immediately walked over there as if he didn’t notice himself.

Maybe I could call that some progress.

They were so polite and so respectful

I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

It’s been great 4 days up until now, and they were becoming more and more open as time went by, but something never changed. It was in the way that they spoke, that they moved around the house, even when they sat on the couch. I noticed it all yesterday, the first weekend I was home the whole day. It was perfect. The perfect posture, the perfect tone, the perfect way to walk. It was unsettling, it seemed like they were never relaxed. Again, another perfect opposite of their animal form, it seemed.

I couldn’t make myself ask anything, it would cause more bad than good, but I also couldn’t let those thoughts go. However owned them, maybe still own them, did this, all of it. It was frustrating because I knew that 4 days could not erase it, nothing could erase it, but I wanted to so much.

“That one”, Seonghwa said it at last in that soft tone of voice.

Now the roughness was almost completely gone of their voices, which was a relief, and I liked to think that they looked more healthy now. The slight glance of their bodies I took 5 days ago told me enough about the amount of food they had these past… days? Weeks? I hoped it wasn’t months.

“Are you sure?”, I said it while finishing the popcorn in the kitchen.

It was still hard not to be loud when speaking and the fact that they could perfectly hear me this far if I whispered was still unsettling, but the hardest of them all was to pay attention to make sure I understood what they said.

“Yes, I won rock, paper, scissors, he can not complain”.

I was almost sure I heard Wooyoung complaining right after that, and Seonghwa shushed him quickly.

I came into the living room with two of the three bowls of popcorn that I made for us.

“Here we go”, I gave them theirs and hurried into the kitchen to grab mine.

The silence was understandable since we were paying attention to the screen, now on the 9:56 minute mark of the first Narnia movie, but there was a palpable distance between them and me. The couch wasn’t that big, yet they seemed to leaned away so our shoulders and thighs wouldn’t touch for a moment.

“What do you both think until now?”, I whispered while glancing at both of their faces.

It was fascinating to watch how their eyes brighten up to a scene or how they would be tense from another, reacting like a real open book. I knew the movie by heart anyway, so it wasn’t like I’d lost the plot.

“I wish something like this existed in real life”, Wooyoung whispered with focused eyes on the screen.

“Then the witch would also be real too”, I said.

“There’s people like her already in real life”, Seonghwa said, and I couldn’t do anything other than nod. “But they have a chance against her, right?”

“They do, they have a lot of people, I mean, animals that are going to help them throughout this”, I said while giggling at my own mistake.

“Hey, when did you watch this for the first time?”, Wooyoung turned to me, catching me off guard.

“Hm, I don’t know, when I was 9? I just remember being young”.

He simply nodded and turned back to the TV. Was that supposed to make sense? Seonghwalooked over at me with a small smile.

“They seem a little like hybrids, don’t you think? The only thing is that we don’t speak like that”, he said.

It felt like my mind was blown away. It was true that study with hybrid weren’t news, it came close to a century ago, but back then, nothing was a “success” as it is now. The topic of hybrids has been in people’s lives for a while, but it never occurred to me, it could be related.

“Does that offend you in any way? The similarities, I mean, if it was an inspiration”.

“No, if anything it would be nice to have that much freedom”, Seonghwa’s comment left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I’d be willing to bet they felt the same.

“Maybe you could, you know? There are a lot of different ways a hybrid could live now, there’s…”

The way both looked at me made me shut up. They knew that I was going to say “new laws”. It was everywhere a few months ago when the four new protection-laws for hybrids came into force, but my knowledge ended where the public information ended. I couldn’t know if it was something to be happy about or not, and by the way they looked at each other, it wasn’t.

“If there’s anything that I can do to help the both of you…”, I saw Seonghwa getting ready to interrupted me, but I kept going. “…even if it’s hard, I’ll do it, I promise”, I extended both my pinkies at them.

Wooyoung took my hand at the blink of an eye. “Do you really? Even if t means that we do not have anywhere to go?”, he looked at me with those big brown teary eyes and his voice trembled a little.

Were they worried about that all this time? That I would throw them out?

“Of course, you can stay as long as you both want, didn’t I say that before? I never wanted to make you both stay unwilling though, you both can come and go whenever, haven’t I said that?, I said in a whispered tone, looking into Wooyoung’s eyes

I was scared of ruining that fragile vulnerability that he put was on my hands and I wanted them to believe me, because it was true, and it was clear that I wasn’t as clear the first time.

So I wrapped my hand around his slowly. “I’ll do anything to make sure that you both are going to be okay from now on, is that clear?, I looked from Wooyoung to Seonghwa, who just held out his pinky to me.

“Yes”, Seonghwa answered out loud.

Wooyoung did in his own way. He hugged me to his best ability, considering our position on the couch and the fact that our pinkies didn’t leave each other. I opened my free arm to create some space for Seonghwa, a silent request that he could deny if he wanted to.

He threw himself at us.

“That’s the Seonghwa and Wooyoung that I’ve met and missed dearly”, I said as I attempted to play with their soft hair without touching their ears, which was no easy task since they didn’t stop moving for a second.

Seonghwa looked up from his spot on my arm. “Did you?”, it was like some of the brightness in his eyes came back alive.

“I did, I guess you both give some good cuddles”, I shrugged as I smiled back at him and I felt Wooyoung’s head moving from the spot on my shoulders.

“It was all I needed to know”, Wooyoung said, and before I could ask , I felt his fluffy bright red tail hugging my waist. “You’re locked now”, he whispered like it was a threat and Seonghwa laughed.

“I guess I am”, I tried to play pretend with them, but I couldn’t hold back a smile.

Their proximity wasn’t weird for a second, if anything, I caught myself relaxing right after that moment. Then, only then, I remembered we were supposed to watch the TV and my eyes went back to it.

“Shit, we lost one of the best parts…”

“Can we start from the beginning?”, Seonghwa asked and nested himself on me to get more comfortable.

“We have time, right?”, Wooyoung said from that one same self-claimed spot on my shoulders, and there were still some doubts by the sound of his voice.

“Right, we do have a lot of time from now on”, I said as held tighter onto both of them and I felt the smiles on my skin that they tried to hide, but the ears gave them away while I did my best not to squeal because of how cute it was.

I didn’t care, I didn’t really have to think about it, they were worth the hardships that would come my way, and I’d prove that to them.

TAGLIST: @babyhailey819 (I'm assuming you wanted to be tagged in this, but please let me know if you don't!)

[docholligay]

Shamash day points: Misc Nominations

Boy do I always have so much fun reading these! Thanks you to everyone who answered. It was hard picking the winners, as it often is, but here they are!

The question was: Tell me about the worst meal you had this year.

1 point to @beefsaladthethirtythird with that's herring under a fur coat! I love herring under a fur coat WHAT DID YOU DO:

For new years my partner and I made this Russian dish called "selyodka pod shuboy", dressed herring salad. It has salted herring, potatoes, carrots, beets and onions,(but we might have left them off), all held together with layers of mayonnaise. My partner put way too much mayo on the salad, and combined with the fatty herring, it was so greasy as to be borderline inedible. Like, it was give-you-GI-issues bad. My partner loves that salad recipe, but she also could not eat more than a little of it. I tried to get through it but it was making me ill after eating so i trashed the leftovers. we made other Russian New Years dishes, and they were all pretty good, but the dressed herring was a no-go.

2 points-- @seolh with the saddest bachelor meal I have ever heard

It's late. I've been at the office for over fourteen hours, but finally I am home. I am hungry but I am also so, so tired. A basic salad sounds like a nice, low-energy idea for food.

I take a chicken breast out of the freezer and put it directly in the oven. It is not seasoned.

I put some lettuce in a bowl. I decide to I am too tired to chop veggies right that moment. I sit on the couch. I sit. I sit some more. I'm so hungry.

I go get the bowl and start picking at the lettuce with my fingers, shoving it into my mouth. It is bland and almost bitter and not particularly pleasant. I continue eating it. Soon, it is gone. The chicken continues to cook.

I just want to go to bed, but I am not sated, and know I need protein. I wait for the chicken to cook. I let it rest. With no seasoning or oil, the top of the chicken breast looks rubbery and a bit shrivelled.

I slice up the chicken breast. I consider attempting to add some flavour, but that's effort. I stand at the corner eating unseasoned pieces of chicken breast. It is not unpleasant, but it is extremely boring. And finally, time for sleep.

…THE worst meal of the year, by far, and I did it to myself!

3 points, @katrani with how did you manage to fuck this up so badly what a wild ride:

….it was actually just this morning. I had bought some ciabatta rolls last weekend, for a specific thing, then because of Reasons couldn't make the thing on the planned night. We had a get-together yesterday, and someone had to spend the night because they were a little too drunk and tired to get home. Perfect, thinks me, even though it is the time of year for jinxes, I still have that bread and can do breakfast sandwiches! Well. Morning arrived, cheerful and optimistic. Even having our first real chill for the year was fine, cause it meant I had been extra cozy and woke up gradually, I felt so rested! Amazing energy levels for cooking! …..the bread had molded. I took too long, and it had been claimed by that stealthy t-rex of modern biology.

This is still okay, muses me, I can find a workaround. Except my fridge and cupboards are emptier than normal, as I'm trying to keep things low so I can scrub everything during an upcoming long weekend. However!!!!!!!!!!! A light! A shining, glorious utility food- I have instant potato flakes! I can very easily make some bullshit hashbrowns!!!! Who doesn't love even a shitty hashbrown patty! And it'll still work as a sandwich kind of thing!!

So I mix the flakes with the smallest amount of water, just enough to make them pasty/battery. I season them, I mold them together, they're sticking as patties fine enough! I heat up the oil, and… they fall apart. So badly. I forgot that the last time I used them for this I had to make them into the mashed potato format and then fry dollops of that. Doing it straight out of the box does not work. Can I blame the heteros for straight out of the box being a terrible idea? Probably not, but it would make me feel better.

Even thinking that okay, it'll be a skillet now, I'll break apart the patties and fry it as lumps of potato batter does not work. They just WILL NOT fry up, the oil soaked into the solid portion a bit too much and now it's not cooking right. Sure, the bottom is crisping, and I can scrape that up and mix it in, but most of it has become just a sludge. A slurry even. Completely unappetizing. I'll have to throw it all out, and borrow someone's rosary or something so I can make proper apologies to the spirits of my fiance's Midwest Irish family for fucking up perfectly good potato product so horrendously.

So all I have to offer my guest, 45 minutes after we've been awake, is some eggs, and they do not like eggs by themselves. My fiance and I eat what I was able to make, and they're well-seasoned, and the texture is actually the best I've gotten eggs to be in a while… but it is poisoned by the shame of not being able to care for my guest, any enjoyment I might have would be a slap in the face to their hunger, a breach of their trust in me to be a proper hostess.

As they were leaving they told me they don't really have breakfast most of the time anyways.

You definitely would have gotten points if you had elaborated at all, @iscahwynn because a 7-11 challenge sounds TERRIFYING

[emperasnake]

forever

pairing: mikage reo x gn reader content: fluff to angst wc: 0.9k event: @https-true-egoist's 'love me not' valentines collab

You woke up to darkness. Various thoughts scrambled around in your head. They were in a rush, as if they'd woken up late, and they kept bumping into each other in the process.

When they finally came together, they reminded you of the delightful day you'd had yesterday.

You sprang up in excitement, then immediately laid back down, your giddiness and racing heart making you dizzy.

You shot Reo a quick good morning text, telling him you'd be opening his gifts soon.

Throughout your relationship, Reo had shown he was the type of partner to go all out. From buying you presents, cooking for you, helping you clean, and consoling you when you felt down; he'd been there for you in every way he could. He promised he would forever.

You didn't believe him at first. Nothing lasts forever. Maybe you'd be together for a long, long time, but forever? It was incomprehensible, like infinity. How could he promise you something that couldn't be understood?

But Reo turned it into something you could grasp. Like your favourite teacher would, he explained it at a pace suited for you, paying attention to your reactions and slowing down when he thought you needed some time to process.

'forever'

You started to see it as a beautiful concept. You even began to believe you and Reo would last that long, however long it may be.

It seemed everything he did only solidified that belief.

Yesterday, for Valentine's Day, Reo had snuck into your apartment to make you breakfast. He cooked up your favourite dish and served you with a dazzling smile, telling you to get ready for a day you'd never forget.

He drove you around town, calling it a drive down memory lane. You went from place to place, reminiscing and gathering memorabilia of previous dates. He'd put all the gifts in a woven basket and asked you to open it the next day.

Your favourite gift was the teddy bear. Reo had insisted it be the opposite of the one you two had made together—green instead of red, with a matching bow tie around its neck.

A warmth spread from your chest at the sight of the gift basket, covered in translucent pink plastic and decorated with hearts and ribbons. You grabbed it and sat down, plastic crinkling as you pulled it off, allowing a card to fall to the floor. A flap on its back piqued your interest.

"Goodbye," written in a beautiful calligraphic script.

Goodbye?

A nervous laugh slipped past your lips. What did he mean by 'goodbye'?

As you stared at the word, your confusion slowly melted into an uncomfortable panicky feeling.

You turned over the card, scanning over the "Happy Valentine's Day" on the cover and Reo's scrunched-up script inside. He'd tried to fit a lot within two pages, and it all seemed like compliments.

The goodbye must've been a joke, you convinced yourself.

You took a deep breath and started slowly reading from the beginning. Reo had written about his favourite memories with you, the habits you had that made him smile, the times you'd taken care of him when he hadn't been well and that he appreciated everything you did for him.

As you neared the end of the card, you let out a sigh of relief. Yeah, the goodbye must've been a joke.

Your mind half-soothed, you read through the rest. But as you came upon the last few lines, your heart dropped.

I'm sorry.

I loved you.

And on the back, hidden behind the flap you'd opened too early, goodbye.

How long? was the first question to pop into your head. How long had he been pretending? He loved you, past tense.

He'd loved you and he'd left you.

He'd left you with so many gifts to remind you of him. Did he realise how much that would hurt? Did he realise he was stabbing you in the back, then twisting the knife?

Your mind and your heart raced, jostling with each other, trying to figure out what you were feeling, trying to figure out some sort of logic to your situation.

You grabbed for your phone, wanting to text Reo, though you had no idea what you would say. With shaky hands, you typed out a message asking if you could talk.

Message not delivered

Your stomach churned.

Exiting your texts only made you feel worse.

Reo stared back at you from your home screen, wearing a sweater you'd gifted him. It looked great on him, but the word scrawled across the front dug claws into your heart.

'forever'

Where had those promises gone? What did Reo suddenly not like anymore? He was the one who'd made those promises. He was the one who'd worked so hard to have you believe him.

Tears rolled down your cheeks onto your phone screen. You had to fight the urge to throw the damn thing to the floor.

Reo's laugh mocked you, the word on his sweater making it all the more painful. They taunted you together, first from your screen and later that evening, when your tears had slowed.

A package arrived at your door. It contained everything you'd left at Reo's place, with the sweater placed on top.

'forever'

It meant nothing to you.

a/n: happy valentine's day!

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.65 Mistake

Sophia took advantage of her day off and slept in. I woke up around 11:00 and made sure the pups were okay. Kooper was snoozing while Rosie was completely awake, just like me. I showed her some love, then taught her how to go potty outside. Sophia was still knocked out at like 2:00, so I went for a jog, hoping the puppies wouldn't bug her too bad. See? Neither of us would survive this relationship either if we kept woohooing like that. One day, our brains would just stop working, haha. But if we croaked early, at least we'd be together.

After I returned and showered, Sophia had finally woken up and ate leftover frittatas. Dad called, saying Mama had called him this morning, all excited about me. He was relieved I finally decided to tell her, not because he had difficulty keeping my secret, but because he believed I shouldn't have hidden it from her.

"What's all that noise back there?" he asked. "It sounds like screaming children. Do you have another secret to share?"

"HA! No, I do not. We adopted two puppies. I think they're doing a duet."

"Oh my. Well, you've certainly got your hands full. I'll let you go. That's all I had to say."

We said goodbye, and I washed dishes.

"So...yesterday I got the feeling you wanted to go out," she said.

"Oh. I mean.... It's not that I wanted to go out. I'm just not really a home guy, so all my suggestions involve leaving the house. But I enjoyed being at home with you, though."

"Okay, well, yesterday we did what I wanted, so today we're going to do what you want, and I think you want to get dressed up and go dancing!"

"That's what I want, huh?"

She nodded affirmatively.

"That's what you want."

She took Gammy's advice way too seriously, but I had no problem with that.

Yasmine called while I was getting dressed, and I seized the opportunity for privacy while Sophia was in the shower. She wanted to see me, of course. I told her I had plans and was currently getting ready, but assured her I'd reach out tomorrow because I wanted to talk to her. Knowing she'd soon have my undivided attention, she let me go.

Sophia took her sweet time getting ready, but when she finally came out, I was floored. She had on a short skirt, a crop top with plenty of eye candy, and cowgirl boots. The boots were an odd choice, but surprisingly, they worked. Her hair was all curled up, and she had on a bit more makeup. She was smoking hot, and I did not want to leave the house anymore. But she insisted we get a move on, so we made our way back to Windenburg, the mecca of nightlife and the very spot where it all began for us.

It was like six something in the evening, but the place was packed as if it were 11:30. The DJ was on point, and I knew the night was about to be lit. We hit up the bar first, and I couldn't take my eyes off Sophia. She was already beautiful without all the extra, but damn! I didn't expect her to go all out, but she still had the simple elegance theme going. She never ceased to amaze me.

We finished our drinks, headed downstairs, and got in where we fit in. The dancefloor was massive, so there was plenty of space for us, despite the crowd. Still, we decided to stick to the back, where it was more relaxed and private. Mama would be bummed if she found out I was a just okay dancer, but Sophia and I were equally matched in that department. We had so much fun, moving and grooving, shaking our hips. Heh, I particularly enjoyed Sophia's hips.

I got my fill of dancing and turned around to check out everyone else. That's when I saw her...

I still thought her outfit was cool and would know it was her anywhere. Did she see me? Did she see Sophia? The dancefloor wasn't the best spot for our chat, but if she saw us, things could get messy—on both sides. I went to Sophia first to explain what I was about to do because I didn't want her to get the wrong idea when she saw me talking to another woman.

"Sophia... I just saw someone I used to hang out with. She's been calling me a lot lately, so I'm gonna go over there and talk to her."

She had a total deer-in-the-headlights look.

"O-kay?"

I knew deep down this was a bad idea, but it was already out there, so I tried to fix it up.

"I've been meaning to call her and tell her about us, but I keep putting it off. And she's right there. I could just do it right now."

She still looked confused, but not as much.

"Do what you need to do," she said.

I pulled her into a tight hug for more damage control.

"I love you. I'll be right back."

Yasmine spotted me, and I watched her smile fade as she connected the dots.

"That the reason you've been dodging my calls?" she asked, nodding toward Sophia.

I looked back at her and smiled.

"Yeah. That's my girlfriend, Sophia."

She shot me a glare that could melt steel.

"Girlfriend? Since when do you have a girlfriend?"

"Officially? Since this week. But I think I always knew she was the one for me. I met her a while ago."

Her jaw dropped, and I could tell she was getting heated.

"The one? Y'all getting married or something?"

I shrugged.

"Sure...one day."

She put her hand up to stop me from speaking.

"I just have one question."

My stomach did a somersault. This was a terrible idea, and I was not prepared for the coming storm. She seemed like the kind of person who was really good at causing scenes.

"How you gonna judge me for wanting an open relationship when you were messing around with both of us?"

I tried on different responses like clothes, but none of them fit. Our situations weren't the same—not by a long shot. Yet, I could see how she arrived at that conclusion.

"I didn't... That's different! I wasn't in a relationship with either of you! It was just casual dating. I thought you understood that."

She sighed.

"I did."

"So...what's wrong?"

"I played myself. I really like you, Luca."

"You know what I was looking for, and I have that now. Sorry I didn't say anything sooner, but I can't have you blowing up my phone."

"She's pretty."

"Yeah...she is."

"I hate this."

"What?"

"This! How it feels. I'm usually the one breaking things off. I hate you," she said with pouty lips.

I tried to keep a straight face.

"No you don't."

"Maybe just a little."

"I'm really sorry you had to find out like this. I wish I'd been braver and talked to you sooner."

"That makes two of us. I feel really stupid, Luca."

She was not going to give me even one inch.

"I'm sorry! Can we agree to keep things friendly from now on?"

She sucked her teeth.

"She's not gonna let us be friends."

I glanced at Sophia who was watching us closely with the most amazing smile.

"You're probably right. But that is something we're both going to have to respect."

I was mainly talking about her, but it taught me something too. Mama's problems began with this exact scenario when she refused to let go of Dwayne. But since I wasn't in love with Yasmine, I didn't see myself going there. Still, it was probably better to cut ties to avoid all suspicion and temptation. I'll never get why Mama did what she did, but maybe I could be more forgiving.

"Was this what you wanted to talk to me about tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes."

As if on cue, Sophia sashayed toward us with that unwavering smile, glancing at Yasmine.

"Are you ready to go, babe?" she asked, brushing past me.

Yasmine shot her a dirty look as she walked past, but surprisingly, she didn't stay mad for long.

"Okay, Luca! She cute cute. I bet she's a closet freak. And thicc too? I know you like that. Not mad."

I let out a big breath and shook my head at her being so outspoken.

"Thanks...I think?"

"It hurts, but I'm glad you found someone who can give you what you want. If you have any open-minded friends or a twin, send them my way."

I'd never get her and this whole non-exclusive thing, especially after seeing her mope about us not hanging out anymore. Regardless, I hoped she'd find someone who could give her what she wanted. May the Watcher bless him.

[frogofalltime]

06.02.2024

as i am no longer taking adhd meds this is not a medication diary anymore but it has been helpful for my mental health to write about my day like this so i will continue it with a new tag :)

i slept very badly; i didn't fall asleep until very late and i kept waking up in the night having weird dreams.

i had to get up at 7:30 which was really hard but i did it. i ate breakfast and got ready and i was two minutes late for my 9am class but it's okay, the most important thing is that i went. i only wrote two lines of notes on the lecture though.

then immediately after that lecture i had a 3-hour long lab class. i did Not have a good time: i was so tired and the lab is so overstimulating even in the best of times, so i was really struggling. i also was very hungry, i think my body is catching up on the food it missed out on last week, so i went out of the lab for a few minutes to eat a snack and tried to mentally recover before i went back to continue working.

as soon as lab was over i had yet another lecture. thankfully this is the class that i have with @etherealspacejelly (seeing robin always cheers me up even if it's the worst day ever). it was just revision of some stuff we learned last year so it wasn't too hard but i was so tired that i just couldn't wait to get out of that room.

finally after 5 hours of back to back classes i finally could take a break. i went to the house where all my friends live to eat my lunch which i had left in the fridge there yesterday, and then i accidentally fell asleep on the sofa for an hour.

when i woke up we had to go to another class and by now i was Not feeling well at all. i had a headache, i was hungry again, i felt overwhelmed, and i just wanted to sleep. i spent most of the class with my head on the desk trying not to have a meltdown.

when that was finally over my friend tried to talk to me but i was unable to speak. i've struggled with this my whole life because i am autistic and i have situational mutism (?) but recently this has been happening every day. i left without saying goodbye and went home and stared at the wall for an hour because i felt like i was going to have a meltdown or cry or throw things around while screaming.

eventually i forced myself to get up and make myself some food and that helped a lot. i ate while reading percy jackson. by the time i had finished eating, i felt much better, though i still couldn't speak to my flatmate when she came in to the kitchen.

i washed my dishes and took a shower (which was very overstimulating, idk why showering has become even harder for me recently, and it was already difficult enough). i considered going to bed but it was only 8pm and i didn't want to wake up in the middle of the night so i decided to do some art instead.

drawing and creative things always improve my mood, but i often don't have the energy to do it, so i'm glad i was able to do that tonight. after that i was feeling hungry again. i was unwilling to eat Again because i already had eaten 3 meals and one snack and eating more than one "treat" food per day is against the Rules. but i know my body wouldn't ask for food if it didn't need it so i made myself some toast with nutella and seeds and i also had some grapes. it was very nice, my favourite kind of food, and i am proud of myself for letting myself eat it.

then i washed my plate and realised i had forgotten to take my antidepressant meds this evening, so i took them when i went to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

now i am in bed and i feel a lot better than i did all day. sometimes i guess i need some rest, a lot of food, a creative outlet, and some Autism Time, otherwise i turn into an insane little creeture.

goodnight everyone, i hope tomorrow is better <3