#and maybe find stella too ;-;

[piulblood]

TAKE MY LIAMS AND LEAVE.

I KNOW ITS NOT MUCH BUT I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. IVE BEEN SO BUSY BUT HFJONE IS LITERALLY MY LIFE SAVIOR EVER SINCE THREE WEEKS AGO AND LIAM, BRYCE, AND AIRY ARE MY FAVS. ESPECIALLY LIAM I CANT GET ENOUGH OF HIM mind my sadistic tendencies but he was SO cute when he was drowning, i still felt so bad for him and rooted for him I LOVE LIAM FAY9SFYOSR69SIPGSR6ISOHDY79D0TDTUO9WTPWYIP

[asapeveryday]

Breath Me In

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Warnings: Smut (Fingering), weed, alcohol

Summary: Uconn’s end of summer party brings you all sorts of highs.

A/n: can you tell I like party settings??? Anyways. We need more fics of Paige receiving instead of always giving pls!! Someone please this girl!

Summer is coming to a close. Long August days turn to colder September nights, and the students of Uconn have mostly moved in for the new semester. A new year of college calls for a party.

Uconns annual end-of-summer party was an absolute staple to attend for seniors, richer students who lived in housing nearby often responsible for hosting. Summery rap and pop blasting, coolers and twisted tea by the gallons, string lights in big green backyards, patio furniture overrun by couples making out or slowly sobering up. It was a sight to behold, and you relished in the feeling of this, the beginning of the end of school.

When you make your way throughout the house, various people stop to talk to you, including the hostess herself.

Stella DeSantos is a trust fund girl who’s in her senior year for sports marketing, and this years lucky party organizer. She has the means, obviously, because the house is massive.

“So… gonna start the year off with some dick or what?” She laughs, already tipsy.

You just smile and shake your head. “I’m chill right now.” Is your reply. Honestly you just didn’t want to pull the ‘id rather have pussy’ card on her.

The girl swings an arm around you. “I could set you up with some really athletic guys if that’s your thing.” She hiccups. “Want a drink?”

She thrusts a mango white claw into your hand and you take it reluctantly. As much as you loved getting wasted the party was a bit too rowdy to feel comfortable. You were desperately searching for someone you knew well enough to hang out with that wasn’t already drunk, with no luck.

You stick by Stella for a while, standing by as she greets people and gets drunker by the minute. You’re still holding the same White-claw, though it’s mostly empty.

You’re scoping out the scene yourself, the house is filled with kids you’ve been in school with for the past years. Your gaze stops in the kitchen, where two girls reside. One tall with dark skin, hair slicked back and clothes baggy. You’d had classes with Aubrey Griffin before, she was intimidating but attractive.

The other girl was paler and slightly shorter, blonde hair tied back into a bun and glasses on her face.

“Paige!” Stella calls out, as if sensing your thoughts. She makes her way over to the two girls and you awkwardly follow behind. Everyone knows Paige Bueckers. She’s one of those students, everyone mostly likes her and she’s friends with all the right people. It puzzled you how someone so gay still attracted so many guys.

Stella talks to Aubrey and Paige, and they politely engage despite obviously being thrown off by how drunk she is. Their shared looks almost make you laugh. You take this as a chance to get a good look at Paige. She mostly stayed out of trouble or tough rumours, and kept to her main group of friends, so aside from her talent on the court you knew almost nothing.

You let yourself stare at her, noting her blue eyes, long lashes and wide smile. She carried herself confidently, but looked uncomfortable.

Finally she turns to meet your eye, and when her tongue flashes out to wet her lips you physically feel something in your stomach drop.

“You her babysitter or something?” She smirks.

“You’d think she knows how much she can handle by now.” You scoff. Stella barely notices, fully talking to Aubrey.

Paige’s eyes dart to the drink in your hand. “Good luck finding a ride home tonight.”

Before you can respond, maybe by telling her your name or sparking better conversation, Stella’s attention is drawn somewhere else and she starts to drag you away.

You turn to get one last look at Paige, and internally celebrate when your eyes meet.

-

As the summer sun finally began to set, it got a little too cold for everyone to be outside. The inside of the house was absolutely packed, the music was louder and the air was thicker. The smell of smoke and sound of people was starting to irritate you, but for whatever reason you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Stella was nowhere to be found and you were sitting on the kitchen counter next to some other girls, quietly sipping some drink while listening in to conversations. The original plan of staying mostly sober was ruined by your boredom, and though you weren’t drunk you felt significantly warmer and a little more confident.

“Oh, it’s you again.” A voice says. You turn to see it’s Paige and your heart skips a beat.

“I have a name.” You reply, not caring if you come off rude. She doesn’t seem to care either, just raising her eyebrows at you. “And it is?”

You tell her your name and she repeats it to herself with a smile. “I’m Paige.”

“I figured.” You laugh. The alcohol was making everything seem like less of a deal, had you talked to her more before you probably wouldn’t have been so casual.

“You drunk?” She asks, leaning against the counter across from you. At this angle you’re pretty much looking down at her, she looks cuter with her eyes wide and head tilted slightly upwards. You almost let your imagination get ahead of you.

“Getting there. You?”

Paige shakes her head no. “You don’t seem like much of a drinker.”

With a shrug, you say “This party is less fun than I thought it would be.”

“I’m gonna head outside if you’re tryna come.” She shrugs back.

You hop off of the counter and are reminded of the fact that Paige isn’t short. She seems happy that she’s not looking up at you anymore.

“Sure, why not.” You smile.

She leads you to the backyard and the sudden quiet is surprising. The music is muffled and the air is fresher, it’s a beautiful night and the yard is empty for the two of you. Paige heads straight for the pool, sitting down by the edge of the deep end and taking off her shoes, letting her legs dangle in the water. You join her and do the same.

“So you came to a party and you’re not drinking or getting high?” You ask her.

“Ah ah,” she smirks. “I’m getting high for sure, jus had to be a little sneaky. You can keep a secret, right?” Paige tilts her head at you, and you almost melt right there and then.

“I’m great at keeping secrets.” You eye her, tilting your head like she does. “But can all those people?” You gesture to the kids inside the house.

“Everyone in there is gonna be too drunk to remember me sneaking out for a blunt with a girl.” She finally breaks eye contact, reaching into her pocket for a tin of pre-rolled blunts.

She said ‘with a girl’ like her being with you could be a topic of conversation. The thought makes your mind race.

When Paige lights up and gets the first hit, her whole composure loosens.

The blue from the pool water reflecting onto her face, the slight glow of the blunt against her lips, the way she blows the smoke afterwards. It’s driving you insane.

You stare at your legs in the water, her pale ones next to yours. The night is beautiful. She’s beautiful. You wonder if she’ll remember anything tomorrow.

“Want sum?” Paige interrupts your thoughts, holding out the blunt. You know you shouldn’t mix weed with alcohol, but your heart is buzzing and her lips had already been on it, so you can’t say no.

Taking it from her nimble fingers (which you cursed yourself for even noticing) you inhale, letting the smoke fill you up before letting out a long breath, trying to ignore her sharp eyes on you.

“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you around before.” She says, taking back the blunt. You let the statement linger in the air. For every hit you take, she takes three. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are already slightly pink.

“Are you not the noticing type?” You ask.

Paige’s eyes meet yours. “Are you?”

You laugh and take the blunt from her, holding the smoke in before tilting your head back and blowing it into the night sky.

“I notice a lot of things.” you say, glancing at her lips before meeting her eyes again.

“Oh yeah?” She says quietly, analyzing your features. If it weren’t for the drinks and the weed, you would’ve felt like prey under her watch.

“Yeah.” You match her tone.

She’s closer than you remember her being. The air smells like weed and chlorine, but she smells like summer.

Nobody says anything, you just keep passing the blunt.

“What was your first time getting high like?” You ask her.

“Freshman year, me and some other girls on my team decided we were gonna do it together.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Don’t know why we started with edibles, but we were still high the next morning.”

“Oh shit.” You laugh.

“Yeah,” she huffs “and we had practice that afternoon, must’ve gone through like 3 bottles of eye drops each. What about you?”

“Senior year of high school.” You cringe and she smiles at your expression. “My girlfriend- at the time, was kind of addicted. Didn’t seem like a big deal then, but she begged me to smoke and I did. It was whatever.”

“Girlfriend?” She asks.

“You’re surprised?” You chuckle. “Shit, you really don’t notice anything.”

“Shut up.” She flicks your shoulder. “Any girlfriend now?”

“Fuck no.”

“I feel that.” She blows smoke into the crisp air. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, you looking into the water and her looking at you, before she finally says “Can I try something?”

“Like what?” You ask.

You can tell her thinking is slightly hazy, she’s moving slower and her eyes are tired, it’s attractive.

“Lemme jus show you…don’t freak.”

Paige takes a hit, then leans into you. In an instance her lips are on yours, prying you open and exhaling smoke into your mouth, then she pulls away. You resist the urge to choke, but manage to exhale smoothly. Your lips tingle where she made contact with you, and you feel your face get red at her expression. Paige is practically entranced.

“Little warning would’ve been better next time.” You cough.

“We can try again if you want.” She smirks, and you roll your eyes.

Once again Paige takes a hit then leans into you, this time placing her hand on your face. She huffs the smoke inside your mouth and you gladly take it, now knowing what to expect. When she pulls away you don’t turn your head, you just blow out the smoke, letting it cloud both your vision and hers. When it clears she’s staring dead at your lips.

Her lips meet yours again, this time without any weed. She’s taking her time with you, tongue exploring your mouth attentively, one hand still on your face while the other finds your thigh.

Her hands are calloused and controlled against your skin, her glasses bump your face as you kiss her. Her lips are soft.

You let your hands wander too, dancing under her black t-shirt and gripping her waist. You can feel her abs, toned from her athletic lifestyle. You can only imagine the things you could do with her abs alone.

Her hand leaves your thigh and meets yours under her shirt, gripping your wrist she guides you to her sports bra, letting you get under it and feel her breasts.

She sighs into your mouth when you lightly pinch her nipples, her usually confident voice now almost needy.

Paige’s kisses trail down to your neck, licking and biting into your soft skin. You let your fingers ghost against her until they reach the waistband of her sweatshorts.

“Can I?” You whisper, eager to feel her.

“Fuck, yes.” She murmurs against you, sucking beautifully painted hickeys from your neck to your collarbone.

When your fingers rub her through her boxers you can hear her breathing change, and it’s doing things to you. Rubbing slow circles on her clit, you feel yourself getting wet.

“You let every girl down your pants, Paige?” You mumble. She stares up at you, eyes wide and bloodshot.

You relish in the way she bites her lip when your pace quickens, you can feel her slick through the boxer briefs and you can’t help but tease her. “So wet already…”

Finally you let your hand slip into her briefs, finding her entrance and teasing around her hole. Her hips jerk upwards, giving you room to move, offering herself to you. “Stop talking.” She grumbles, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

You connect with her lips again as your fingers finally dip inside of her, causing her to let a soft moan out. You realize suddenly that anyone inside the house could come outside and see you two, but with all the weed and alcohol you couldn’t care less, you couldn’t stop now, not when Paige was grinding against your fingers and letting out sweet whimpers into your mouth, her hands feeling you all over.

Breaking the kiss is the best decision you make, because you can actually see her. Her face is perfect, hair falling out of her bun, glasses sliding down her nose, her expression a sexy, needy pout, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of her and grinning as her whimpers get a little louder. The noise of her slick, her voice, the crickets outside and the muffled music is almost magical to you. Her blue eyes shining and glossy from the weed and the reflection of the water.

“Fuck.” She murmurs, covering her mouth. “Oh, fuck.”

Her hips are violently bucking now as you curl your fingers inside of her and use your thumb to apply pressure to her clit. Her eyes are screwed shut now, and you can tell she’s close.

“Gonna cum for me Paige? Cmon baby, let it out.”

She calls out your name, legs open and pussy throbbing against your fingers. Finally she loosens around you, reaching her orgasm.

She’s still clinging to your body and catching her breath when you pull your hand out from her shorts, licking your fingers like you’ve just finished a meal. Paige’s eyes are trained on your lips wrapped around the same digits that were just inside of her.

You just smile at her staring. “You good?” You ask her. She just chuckles and takes off her shirt. “I’m good. Might needa cool down though.” Paige eyes you as she slips into the pool.

You laugh and take your shirt off too, slipping into the cold water with her.

It’s a good night, filling your lungs with her, breathing Paige in.

[c4tluver02]

best friend!Steve Harrington x shy!reader where you get asked on a date, something that has never happened before/never been something he had to worry about because usually the combination of you being so reserved and him hovering kept men from trying any funny business. Steve knows the guy, hates the guy, and spends days trying to convince you not to go on the date (because he doesn’t like the guy… certainly could not possibly be for any other reason…) and eventually you confront him and ask why he cares so much and tooth rotting fluff ensues. Steve dials the guy’s number himself after so you can cancel.

last minute cancel

wc: 3k

cw: mentions of cheating (not from Steve or r), hurt/comfort, angst?, fluffffffff, happy ending, maybe Steve being rude?

a/n: thank u sooo much for the request<333 i hope you enjoy it :D!!!!

Steve has been your best friend for years. 

You met him in high school, just before his “King Steve’ era, and from the moment you two became friends it was like you were glued to the hip. 

During school he was boyish and charming, always alluring to anyone near him.  But with you he was different. Not that he wasn't any of those amazing qualities, but he was far more than that. With you he never faltered when it came to taking care of you. Thinking of you before himself, making sure you are always okay, it was a protectiveness that you were continuously thankful for. 

No one else got this version of Steve, not even Kathy or Stella. The two recent girls on his roster. However recently Steve told you that Kathy dumped him because you went to the movies with them so maybe it’s just Stella. 

Unlike all of the other girls in school you weren't all over him, which could be the reason all those dates were shocked– feeling like they were interrupting something when it came to you two. Which in a sense they were. You and Steve had a way of doing things, a system that has been going for about 5 years. So when Kathy threw a fit about movie nights it’s not even an issue for Steve to call her the next morning saying they won't work out. 

You were too shy to do the things Steve did, it’s what made you two work so well together. He would go to the parties and date the girls while you sat there listening. Interested in all the gossip you're not involved in but still get to know about. For some reason people tell Steve everything, never thinking when he gets home that he would call you to spill all the secrets. 

–

Both of you sat on Steve's bed with your first bowl of popcorn laid between the two of you. The movie was ready, all you had to do was press play, but you had just gotten to his house so now is the time he tells you all the gossip. 

You felt like you were already watching a movie, the way Steve was so animated with his storytelling. His eyes would go wide as his hands would copy the words he says. You could sit and listen to him tell you stories for hours, he reenacts things so well and all the drama added is the cherry on top. 

Only once he was done talking it was your turn, and truly you don't know how you've kept this from him for this long. You have never been able to lie to Steve, not that this was a lie, more of a kept secret. Still something happened to you and you didn't immediately call Steve about it which was weird for you. 

But a guy asked you out a few days ago and it was something so out of the blue for you that you just had to tell Steve in person. Knowing your best friend will have the best reaction to your exciting news, along with help on how to go about it. 

So when he went quiet you began to start. 

“Okay so y’know how I was at the bookstore the other day?” You ask, the smile you have on your face makes Steve smile. This must be good, he thinks. 

“Yeah, you wanted to find a new diary right?” 

“Exactly, and while I was looking I was just so into the journals, I guess, and I took a step back and a guy caught me!” The way you gleam almost fools Steve in that moment. 

“Did he catch you or did you just walk into him and his body was right there?” Steve doesn't really know where this conversation is going but he’s not sure he likes it. 

“His hands literally wrapped around my waist Steve, he caught me, like my literal hero. Anyways, I ended up talking to him, and you’ll never guess what happened!” 

“Uh, he said sorry for being in your way?” His eyebrows raise with the question. 

You roll your eyes at his antics. “No. He asked for my number. My number, Steve.” 

“And did you give it to him?” 

Steve hasn't really had to deal with you and guys. In school guys knew not to ask you out, Steves hovering too extreme for any of them to try anything. And now that you are out of high school, you don't go to any gatherings to meet new people. A little bit too much of an introvert for it. But now Steve isn't always around, no one knows their place when it comes to the two of you. Kathy was pure proof of that. 

“Well yes, of course. It’s not everyday a guy asks for my number.” You’re kneeling on his bed now, so hyped up from your retelling of your own story.  

The way he doesn’t really move makes you a little worried. You always give a great big reaction to his stories, let alone his dates. A little cheer or a smile would help you out. 

“Well who is this guy anyways, you get a name?” 

“Um, Dean Mills.” You say drawing back to your conversation with him. 

“Dean Mills as in from English class that always snored?” His hand goes to his mouth in a faux gasped expression. 

“I don't know Steve, I wasn't in that class with you.” Your body deflates from his witty comeback that is unhelpful in every way. 

His questions have ruined your mood, you back hits his headboard and your irritation spikes just a little higher. He isn't being supportive at all, if anything he’s just making fun of you. It’s understood to not take you seriously, you never get asked out by guys. But does Steve really think you’re so awful that the idea of a guy being into you seems so funny?

“You do know that he totally got kicked from the football team for sleeping with all the cheerleaders right?” Steve sits up now, a hand pressed deep into his mattress to hold himself up. 

“You don't even know if this is the same guy Steve, how are you just gonna write off the first guy I tell you about?” 

The fold of your arms and the slight pout of your lips has Steve feeling bad. He’s really trying to look out for you here, nothing more nothing less. 

“M’sorry, honey. You're right, has he called you yet?” 

It takes you a second to respond because no, he hasn't called you yet. But the last thing you want to do is tell Steve that, it would just further prove his stupid point. 

“It just happened two days ago Steve.” You say with a huff. Movie night doesn't feel needed anymore. You weren't even supposed to have it today, normally it’s saturdays but Steve has a date on saturday so you moved it. One that you helped him pick an outfit for, with no quips or jokes coming from you. 

You pull yourself to the edge of his bed, not really wanting to leave your hang out, you even wanted to sleep over. But right now Steve doesn't feel like he has even a hint of happiness for you. It feels devastating, and you don't even know why he’s being so unsupportive. 

“I think I should head home.” Your legs dangle from the edge of his bed, his long legs get into it way easier than your short ones. 

Steve's sigh is loud from behind you. You can also hear his hand run over his face and into his hair. He didnt mean for you to get upset with him, but if he has the right Dean Mills, which he 100% does, he knows this guy is just using you for a hookup. 

“I am just trying to make sure that you’re doing the right thing, going out with this guy.”

You still don't look at him when he says it. The only thing that could be heard in his room is the sound of you putting your shoes back on. It’s a quick motion, like you positively need to get out of there and it makes Steve’s heart break in two. 

“Why is it so hard for you to think that a guy could just like me?” Your head turns sharply to look at him, finally. But the look on your face makes him wish you didn't, your brows are furrowed, eyes squinted. 

“Honey that’s not..I meant that-” 

“I’ll see you later Steve.” You say it so quickly as you leave his room that he almost misses it. The slam of his front door, however, can't go unmissed. It’s loud, saying everything that needs to be said. 

Yeah, maybe Dean hasn't called you yet, and so what if he was some douche in high school? Like Steve wasn't? You weren't the same as you were in high school, people change. The growth from high school to now is what you hope to see from people and Dean seems to have grown, unlike Steve and his stuck in set ways. 

It was really heartbreaking that Steve just wrote this whole thing off. You never do that to him, despite how badly you want to. Stella isn't lasting you knew that the second you met her. And the same thing happened with Kathy, but did you tell him that? No, you stood there and helped him pick things out for these girls who didn't know him half like you did. 

–

That night Dean had called you asking you out on a date. It was in two days, at a nice restaurant that just opened but had great reviews. You said yes, trying to wipe everything that Steve had said to you from your mind. There was no way his opinions would ruin this for you, the first date you've had in a while. 

 Steve even tried to call you for your nightly call but you didn't answer. Too upset with him to act like everything was normal and hear about the things he did while you supported every breath and movement. There was a split second that you forgot you were mad at him, it was right after Dean called you. Your next immediate response was to dial Steve's number to tell him how Dean had officially asked you out, but you didn't. 

Once morning reached your window the light flowing through your room, waking you up, your anger still sat in your chest. Heavy and painful just as it was the day before. Possibly even worse since the loud sound of a ring stopped you from going back to sleep. 

The phone on the wall was too far, and your body was still limp with the grip of sleep trying to pull you back in. You let the phone go– trying to find that dream that left you all too soon. But it rang again, somehow even louder this time now that your foggy mind didn't halfway block it out. 

Your body brought you to the wall before your mind knew where you were, picking up the phone. 

“Hello?” The grogginess in your voice was present, anyone on the other line could tell you had just woken up. 

“Hey, sorry did I wake you up?” Steve's voice boomed through the phone, loud and perfectly clear unlike your mumbled words. 

“Steve, it's so early.” Your words come out in a stern tone, like you could lecture him on why he shouldn't call people early in the morning because they might just be sleeping. 

“I know, I'm sorry, but I really just needed to talk to you.” 

He could apologize, tell you how bad he feels about the way he reacted. Maybe talk to you about the things you could wear and say to make the date go well. Or at least that's what you hope he'll say, just wanting to talk to your best friend about an important thing that happened to you. 

It’s what makes you stay on the phone, humming as if to say ‘go on’. 

“I talked to Stella about Dean, I was just trying to see if she knew anything about him and what he's been up to y’know? And she told me that she saw him at a party cheat on his girlfriend with three other girls. Three girls!” 

Of course Steve asked Stella, he had to know everything about this dude. And thank god he did or else you would be going out with him. He would hate to see you heartbroken over some idiot who didn't deserve you in the first place.  That was his whole intention with all of this, nothing else. 

“Is that really what you called me to say?” The new tone in your voice is laced with venom. No longer stuck in a sleepy state. 

“I am just trying to protect you–” 

“I don't need your protection Steve, next time you call I hope you have something a little more sincere to say.” And the line goes quiet. Only a quiet beep letting him know you hug up on him. 

What Steve didn't get to tell you was that question to Stella got him another slammed door. Apparently asking the girl you're seeing about another girl isn't the best idea. But Steve had to do it, for you. 

Everything he does is for you. You're on his mind the second he wakes up from his dream about you and right before his eyes shut letting sleep take him away. The way you care about him way more than any of his dates ever would, or how you sincerely understand him. Why he is the way he is and how despite him not being the best, you don't run from him. Always sweet and generous in every sense of the word. Steve doesn't think he could ever live without you, even with this day and a half long fight he finds himself struggling to get by. 

And deep down you felt the same. Maybe that's why this all hurt so much. 

This realization in Steve was what brought him to your doorstep the next day. A beautiful bouquet in his hands as an apology along with a script he's currently going over in his head as he waits for you to open the door. That is if you open the door. 

Steve knows he hasn't exactly been fair. Telling you what you should and shouldn't do has never been something he does regularly. 

Too stuck in his own mind he misses the sight of you coming down the stairs through the window. But when you open the door with your hair curled and a nice dress that snaps Steve right out of it. The lipstick you have on makes the blush on your cheeks pop, a perfect match. 

“Steve, I really don't have time, I have a date and–” You say, turning your head to look at the time on the clock near you. 

“Cancel it.” Steve didn't even know you had a date, you hadn't told him. 

“What?” This makes you look back at him quickly. Any quicker and he thinks you might have given yourself whiplash. 

“Cancel it. Stay with me tonight, please.” His plea sounds so heart wrenching. As if it might utterly ruin him if you left. 

“Steve, I can't just cancel, it's like 40 minutes.” Your wide eyes widen even more at his begging. 

“He’s not gonna give you what you need. He doesn't know you or get you like I do and no one ever will. It’s me and you and you know it.” It comes out in one breath, quick and hurried. He removes one hand from the bouquet and grabs for your own. You don't move away or even flinch at the touch. 

“What about Stella?” He could almost laugh at your question, how could you even think about that right now? It proves his point of you always being so thoughtful, even when he didn't deserve it. 

“Stella was never anything serious, nothing like us. I promise just cancel, we can talk everything out. I just need you here, with me.” His grip on your hand tightens, not wanting you to pull away. Almost as if the tighter he holds onto you the less likely you will leave. 

And after a minute of thinking all you do is nod. It’s enough of an answer for Steve as he elopes you in a hug, your arms immediately follow suit as they wrap around his neck. You can feel the leftover water from the flowers on your back and it makes you shutter. 

“You got me flowers?” You ask, letting go of the hug to get a good look at them. 

“Yeah, I wanted to say I'm sorry, for y’know, being a ass.” 

You look even prettier with his flowers in hand, it somehow matches your dress perfectly. As if you two were the ones that had a date and planned it all out. And maybe you should, you did get all dressed up. But for right now that seems quite far away. 

“I can't believe I’m canceling.” The laugh that comes out sounds genuine like the situation you're in was only possible in your dreams. 

“I can cancel for you if you want.” His hands on your hips feel so soothing and relaxing in this moment, like he was the perfect thing to ground you. 

“Yeah? You’re gonna tell Dean how I need to cancel because a much cuter boy came to my door with flowers?” Your arms revert to their spot around his neck, flowers in hand and all. 

“I mean it is the truth isn't it?” You throw your head back as you laugh, Steve pulls you closer and when you are face to face with him again your noses almost touch. 

“I’d hate to lie.” The smile you show is paired with a shrug. 

“Well, let's get to it honey.” Steve says letting you go, squeezing your hips lightly before letting you turn to go inside. 

Let’s just say Dean didn't really appreciate Steves message. 

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 

 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 

Would Harrington pitch a fit? 

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 

Several somethings, in fact. 

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 

An unfair advantage, really. 

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 

"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink. 

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 

"Anybody else?" He asked. 

"Nobody human." Steve replied. 

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…" 

"You take any today son?" 

Steve his head. 

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 

Course he hadn't. 

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 

[yellowf1nch]

Minors do not interact

Warning: slight swearing, manipulative/abusive behaviour

(Part 5 of the problematic roommate series, I will soon make a post that has all the parts for easy access)

Your fingers drum against your leg, uncertainty beginning to blister under your skin. Without saying anything, you turn, and simply regard your roommate with a stare. They sit, adjusting their arms and hands as they speak in a level tone.

"Look, I'm sorry about the other night. I went a bit too far, but, you know that isn't who I am, right?" You shrug. "Come on, it wasn't even that bad, I mean, you didn't call an ambulance."

"I should have." They sigh, hands lifting to gesture toward you.

"But you didn't. I mean, really it's not that bad. It doesn't look that bad to me."

"I have stitches."

"Yeah, but," they pause, "Look, you know that it's wrong of you to steal my stuff. I just reacted because you crossed a boundary that I thought you wouldn't. Just... give me my sunglasses back and we can forget, yeah?"

"They aren't your glasses, Skylar doesn't-"

"Oh my god," they bring a hand up and run it over their face, "not this shit again. You're so dramatic, god. The glasses were sent to me! They came in a package addressed to me! None of them are real people! It's just AI, or VR, or whatever. Tables and chairs don't care about anything, I don't know how you're falling for whatever advertising shit is being pulled for these. You're so stupid. You stole my glasses, give them back!" They yell at you, but remain seated, a hand extended toward you.

"If they aren't real, then how come stuff moves on its own?"

"What? Stuff doesn't move on its own, you're losing your mind."

"Oh, so the time capsule? The bobby pin? The curtains open and close themselves and that's just me losing my mind?"

"You know what? You're crazy. You've actually lost it. I'm calling someone tomorrow to send you to an institution, and when they come to get you they'll force you to give me my glasses back." You stare at your roommate, letting their words hang in the air.

"So you're gonna just send me away? Over glasses?"

"Why not?" It's as if they can't see how incredulous what they're saying is. Your mouth hangs open, words dying on your tongue, so you resign yourself to shake your head, muttering under your breath as you make your way upstairs. You hear a chair scrape along the kitchen floor, your roommate following after you repeatedly asking for their glasses. Managing to just slip into your bedroom and close and lock the door, you decide to curl up in your closet as your roommate bangs their fist against your door, shouting at you from the hall.

There's almost a sense of... shame hanging on your shoulders. You tell yourself you want to cry, but can't seem to find the energy to. Are you stupid? Is all of this some kind of twisted up fantasy made up from a not-on-the-market-yet product? A voice creeps into your ears about how you, in fact, did deserve everything. That you're a horrible person who's just hiding it all behind a friendly smile and an offer to help. Isn't it like that saying, "it's the ones you least expect"; and, well, who would suspect you? These thoughts eat away at you to the chorus of similar remarks from your roommate outside. Eventually you fall into a sleep-like state, though you don't recall dreaming or even closing your eyes. You hear loud music playing from your roommate's room.

The thought comes up again, maybe you should have called the police, but your fear convinces you it's too late for them to do anything now. You missed the window. And if you call them now, your roommate will probably be able to convince them you've stolen from them, tried to hurt them, or even worse things you can't think of. Your stomach growls, but Stella is charmingly creaky, and you don't want to leave the safety of your room. Ensuring the bedroom and bathroom suite doors are locked (and/or blocked), you grab blankets, pillows, and your old teddy bear and set yourself up in the closet for the night, dateviators tucked into the corner beside you.

You sleep, or at least, you think you do. Not peaceful in the slightest, and today you have to go to work. How you're going to hide Skylar away, you aren't too sure. The vents could work, but it wouldn't take your roommate too much work to somehow get to them in your absence. Maybe...

You cautiously, and quietly, open your bedroom door. All is silent. You walk just down the hall to the office space, and eye your safe in the far corner. You punch in the combination, the door opening, and you gently place the dateviators inside.

"Sorry if this is uncomfortable," you say softly, "it's just for while I'm at work. I need to make sure you're safe. I'm sorry," and you close the door, the mechanism locking into place.

Heading back into your room, you debate whether or not you want to try and cover your face somehow (that your job allows) to try and conceal your injuries. Your face is slightly swollen, and still covered in patchy purples and greens. A face mask would cover half of it, for the rest you make do. If people ask, either you can hope they call the cops or help you in some way, or you will probably make up some excuse. Once you're ready, you grab a quick bite in the kitchen and head out the door, commenting you'll be back later to Front Dorian before realizing you did.

Work itself was far from glorious, as it usually is, though aside from a few coworkers who asked about your bruises, you just... clocked in, worked, clocked out. You remembered to stop for groceries and supplies for fixing up some of the things your roommate damaged before you made your way back home. Loading your arms up with bags, you close your car doors, lock it, and make for the front door. You reach awkwardly, turn the handle, but it stops abruptly. You try turning the handle again, to no avail. You take out your key, slot it, but it doesn't turn. Your roommate's car is parked, you didn't think they had to leave for work today, so you try ringing the bell. When no response comes after the fifth ring, you knock, you yell, for no response. Pointing your gaze upwards to roughly where you know Dorian's eyes are, you call to him.

"Dorian? Can you open please? I've got to put this stuff away, and I have things to do." He doesn't respond, though, you weren't expecting much without the dateviators. "Dorian? Front Dorian?" At the continued silence, you instead move over to one of the gym windows at the front of the house, spotting your roommate working out. You try to get their attention, but they seem almost gleeful in ignoring you. Thinking out your next few options, you move around the house, setting down some bags briefly to unlock the backyard gate, then going up to the back door. Once again, it won't open. "You'd better have a good reason for this, Dorian," you grumble, and turn to the window beside him. "Windolyn? Could you open for me please? I'd like to enter my own house." There's a pause, the curtains slightly shifting before the window unlatches and slides upwards. Your thanks is breathy, labored, as you lift the bags inside first, then crawl in after. You close and latch the window, then carry all the bags to the kitchen where you put away food items and throw out old things. Heading for the stairs to change into more comfortable clothes, your roommate moves out from the gym, and stands in your way.

"Excuse me," you say, "I'd like to go upstairs."

"I'm not moving until you give me my glasses." As you try to move around your roommate, they match every step to block you. You try climbing the railing, only to have them pry your fingers off the banister. "Give me my glasses, and I'll let you go upstairs." Sighing, you move back to the kitchen, into the laundry room, where you fish out a dirty shirt and pair of sweatpants from the hamper. "Ew, you're gonna wear dirty laundry? What a slob," you hear from the doorway as you change.

"I'm changing so I don't get my work clothes messed up after cleaning up after you." Your roommate scoffs.

"We both make messes. You can't put all the blame on me considering you can't help but steal from me."

You move towards the doorway, sighing, waiting for your roommate to get out of the way. "Can you move, please?"

"I'm not moving," they start, a small pull at the corner of their mouth into a smirk, "until you tell me where my glasses are."

"So, what if I need to eat? Or use the bathroom?"

"You said you're wearing dirty clothes to clean up messes, so what's a few more? Use the sink if you have to. Not my problem."

"You can't keep me in here. The door opens inwards, and it doesn't lock." Your roommate frowns.

"Don't care. I'm staying here until I get my glasses." Blinking once, twice, three times, you stand there until you resign to sit in the floor by the washing machine.

"Alright. I'll just hang out here then."

"Just tell me where my glasses are," they say, though you elect not to respond or even look at them. Time passes, you're not sure how long, but eventually your roommate decides they've had enough waiting, so they turn to leave. You watch as they rifle through the bags you had left in the kitchen with repair items, looking disappointed at the contents.

They look back at where you sit, then grab the bags and take them, quickly walking upstairs before you can stand and call out to them. The doorway is your only support for the moment you need to curse under your breath. While the opportunity is here, in case you'll be stopped short again, you rush upstairs and into your room. You elect to dress in clean clothes similar to what you grabbed from the hamper, dirty clothes piled by the door until you get back down to the laundry room. Half expecting your roommate to make their way into your room, trying to block you inside, or shouting from across the hall, you wait completely still in the center of your room. You think it must seem odd, just standing still like someone forgot to input commands, but thankfully your roommate seems to be done for the night. Time flies-- almost without you realizing-- and although you have work tomorrow, you stay awake so you can safely get the dateviators from the safe and speak to Tony. He might be able to help you fix people up without needing your supplies that was just taken.

Once you're certain your roommate is asleep, you sneak over to the office, to the safe in the corner, input the combination, and grab the sunglasses swiftly. You put them on as you head to the electrical closet. As you aim the glasses at the toolbox, Tony appears before you, arms crossed, mouth already speaking before you can say anything.

"Well, well, look what the-- uh, what's wrong with your face?"

"That's not important," you whisper, "I came to ask if you could help me fix up everyone who was, uh, damaged the past few days."

"Why ya whisperin'? Can barely hear you." Rolling your eyes, you motion to your roommate's bedroom.

"I don't want to wake them up."

"You woke me up."

"I-" You hadn't thought about that, guilt coloring your eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I'll, uh, I'll leave you be then."

"Well I'm awake now," he says, shoulders bouncing with a quick huff, "shoulda thought about that before."

"Yes, I know. Just- nevermind, if I woke you up that means everyone who needs repairs done is also asleep, I'm sorry," You bring your hands up to the glasses, looking down at the floor.

"Wait-" Before Tony could say anything more, you remove the glasses and take them back to the safe, locking them up, and going back to your room.

[thecoochiefairy]

say it. toji.

warnings 𑄽��� 12.7k word count. a LOT of dialogue ngl, first person pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, hair pulling,squirting,creaming drunk/tipsy sex, oral [f] [m], choking, daddy kink, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, degrading (maybe?), condomless sex, kissing, spanking, aggressive + cocky toji, daddy toji, baby megumi, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ this was my first fic y’all, it is first person, sorry if that’s strange. enjoy! 🫶🏽

“WHO THE FUCK STILL EATS FIG NEWTON’S?”

“Me! That’s who.”

My eyes continue to wander down the snack aisle, searching for my favorite selection. I toss the fruit paste filled cookie into the basket as I respond to my friend on FaceTime, “How about you mind your goddamn business?”

“As long as you continue to buy snacks only made from the devil, I won’t.”

I roll my eyes. “Anyways, you still comin’ tonight or what? I’ll buy a bottle of Stella Rose.”

“Black?” She smirks into the camera, leaning over in her chair as she continues her makeup.

“Black, of course. Makes me feel sexy,” I chuckle.

“Sorry, bookie. I’m going on a date tonight!”

“With the man that’s not your man, but is your man?” I tease.

She pulls the lip liner down from her face as she glares, “Very funny. That’s why you’re still single.”

“Very funny,” I repeat mockingly.

I could admit, it was way too late to be in the grocery store. But as I continued to sit in my condo with an empty fridge, my stomach began imagining myself cuddling with my favorite snack—Fig Newtons. Now I was here.

“You need to get your ass home, it’s late as hell and you’re by yourself,” my friend reminds me.

“I know, I know. I’m going. Once I get my Stella Rose Imma’ get my ass out—“

I stop. I was originally alone in this aisle as I suddenly heard the sound of feeble crying, my head turning as I look down to see a child. No, a baby. The baby waddles in anguish, his olive toned face red and swollen as his mouth ejected cries. My body was frozen as he stalked towards me, his stubby arms raising as he wailed in my direction.

“Girl,” I raise the phone to my ear, “There is a goddamn baby running towards me in distress.”

My friend's eyes go wide as she looks into the camera, “A baby? Oh hell. It’s some sex trafficking shit. Get out of there!”

“This some scary shit, I’m not going to jail! Or ending up in the back of some van where they tell me they’re gonna sell each of my organs,” I exclaim. The baby continues to bawl, now inches away from me as he then raises his arms up. His dark hair sticks up in different directions, wide eyes practically pleading for help.

“Awe. He’s adorable. Shit. Them’ people might get my ass, what if he’s really in distress?” I look around, seeing as no one else appears in the store but me.

“I still say it’s a trap. Kick the damn thing like you would Chucky!”

“Oh shut up, would you kick your own child?”

“Don’t have kids, can’t answer that.”

I place my phone down in the front of the basket as I turn back towards the small being, gushing, “Awe, Pumpkin. Are you lost?”

I lift him into my hands, wrapping my arms around him and he immediately accepts my gesture, leaning his soft head against my chest. I feel my heart melt, his crying begins to subside as he hides his face in my neck.

“Now sir, you and I both know I’m not your momma’. But that’s okay! Cause you’re adorable. And we’re gonna go find her. Shit, okay, where the hell do you bring a child if he’s lost in the store?” I look back over to the phone.

“Customer service desk, I think.”

“It’s damn near twelve o’ clock at night, Customer Service is most likely closed,” I mutter, “Shit. Okay, um—fuck. I’m gonna have to call the police. Or Jesus. Or Dr.Phil.”

“Don’t call Dr.Phil,” my friend pointed out.

“Right. Imma’ have to go to the front of the store and—“

As I turned to make my way towards the opposite direction I was going, I was interrupted as a man now stood in front of me. I jumped.

“Holy shit, am I really finna’ get kidnapped?!”

As I took in his face, this wasn’t just a man. This was a man. All the way down from the large black boots he wore, my eyes trailed up to his olive toned arms, muscles bulging through his shirt as a dragon tattoo trailed around his left hand. The silver jewelry he wore stood out on him. Numerous rings and chains, complimenting his onyx shirt that clung to his perfectly sculpted body. His full eyebrows were furrowed at me, scar atop of his lip twitching on his attractive face.

“What are you doing with my kid?”

“What? Oh— I’m sorry, is this your child?” I asked, slightly panicked. As I continued to study this man, he was scarily sexy. Dark hair, dark eyes. He looked evil in the best way. He had…a baby?

"Yeah, he's mine.” The man looked at me with suspicious eyes, sighing as he looked at the baby in my arms.

“What's the matter, champ?" He asked with a kinder and softer tone, the coldness from earlier in his stare now gone.

“I wasn’t trying to kidnap your child!” I admitted, my face going hot. I felt like I needed to admit that as I continued, “He…was crying. And I was just worried. I’m sorry.”

"I never said you were,” He replied. The small scowl on his face was slowly coming back. He reached forward to take the child from my hands, the baby beginning to struggle and cry again. He buried his head back into my arms as he hugged me tighter.

“Oh…” I then looked him up and down, “Wait a damn minute. Are you sure you aren’t trying to kidnap him?”

His face seemed surprised at my question. He looked down at the baby who continued to cry in my arms as he asked, “Kid, what's wrong with you? Why can't you calm down?"

The baby refused to let go of me. As I looked down to his adorable face, he cried as he then put his hands to his mouth. I realize why he’s upset.

I then say, “He looks to be less than two. I um…he seems to have teeth coming in. You should probably get some cold stuff for him to munch on, that probably explains him being so fussy. Once he couldn’t find you in the store, it probably just scared him.”

He looked at the child and noticed the swollenness in his cheeks as well. The man looked up at me, almost shocked at my observation.

"You know about children?" He replied. I could admit that this was an odd interaction. However, it seemed to be enough to break down his guard. His face softened.

“Yeah, I have a lot of siblings that I took care of. I was basically a mom at a young age,” I reply, “But seriously, he’s just hurting. It’s like a toothache all around your gums.”

"Yeah, you're right. It explains the wailing, it's not like I've never seen these symptoms before. Just didn't connect the dots,” He explains, scratching the back of his head. The baby was still crying, but slowly started to calm down. He looked up at me with teary eyes, still refusing to let go. The man tried again to take him from me, but the child held on tighter.

“I’m sorry… I don’t understand why he’s so comfortable with me,” I say softly, rubbing his hair to calm him down further.

The man sighed, then looked at me with an eyebrow raised as he said, “Maybe he saw something about you that he liked?" a teasing smile slowly coming along his face.

“I mean, I was holding some blueberries, does he like those?” I respond awkwardly, shaking my head as I try to flirt back. Was he even flirting?

He chuckles, “I don't know. Maybe he just liked the way you smelled? Or maybe the color of your hair?"

“Maybe. At least now you can remember that your son seems to have a thing for black women. He has good taste already,” I smile softly.

He chuckles again, my shoulders tensing as he briefly washes his eyes over my entire body. He then asks, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Oni’—“ I then stop myself, “Seioni,” I then correct, “Pronounced ‘Say-Oh-Knee. A lot of people just call me ‘Oni’. And um, your name? And your baby’s?”

The look on his face seems to be amused by me. After all of this, the baby finally reaches out to him, the man quickly taking him back into his hands. He then replies, "I'm Toji. And my son's name is Megumi."

“Well, Megumi’s a very beautiful little boy,” I reach out my finger to the baby, he wraps his entire hand around it. “It’s nice to meet you, Toji.”

“Same with you too, Seioni,” He fully pronounces my name, looking down at his child who was still holding onto my finger tightly. Megumi was now rubbing the finger with his whole hand, refusing to let go. Toji tried yanking him away again, but the baby wouldn't budge.

"Don't get too comfortable, I'd rather not have him get fond of you,” Toji replied, to which Megumi let out a small whine.

“Right,” I agree, pulling my finger away from the child. I continue, “But I’m glad he found me when he did, god forbid he’d walked out of the store or worse. But um, I’m sorry again if it seemed like I was trying to take him.”

He sighed as Megumi reached his arms out to me. He begins to apologize, "It's fine. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge….” He muttered, kissing the child's head as he stared at me.

"You seem like a good person."

“Thank you,” I smile, “You seem like you and your baby have a sweet bond. I’m glad he found you safely.”

"I appreciate that. I try to be the best dad I can, this isn’t a good representation of that,” He jokes, holding the child in his arms. Megumi then started to smile, cooing as he gripped onto his fathers shirt.

“So…I um…assume that his mom is at home waiting for you guys?” I ask.

He looked down, smile disappearing from his face. He cleared his throat as he explained, “Unfortunately, no. His mom passed away,” He replies flatly.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” I shook my head, “I’m shitty for asking that. I mean—bad, sorry,” I correct my cursing, the baby giggling at my tone of voice.

Toji laughed, “No, no need to apologize. It was just an honest question, but that’s why I'm raising him all alone."

“From what I can see you’re doing an amazing job. He’s a sweet baby, and in the instance of an emergency he ran for help. So, don’t be too hard on yourself,” I compliment him. I adjust my glasses on my face, feeling a small bit of irritation as my ginger hair was slowly falling from its claw clip.

His smile felt a little more genuine than before. He held the baby in his arms as he spoke, “Thank you. I'm glad that he's turning out to be just as good as you think he is."

I notice as silence capacitates the space between us, his eyes now study me the similar way I observed him before. I was wearing a matching set, gray sweatpants and a compression long sleeve. I looked like I had just hopped out of bed, yet, I didn’t feel unattractive to his vision.

I place my hair behind my ear, “Well…um…I should probably get back to my grocery shopping, don’t wanna keep bothering you two.”

"Yeah, you're right. I still have a few things I need to buy." Toji replied, I notice Megumi begins to grumble out fussy sounds. I give him an awkward smile as I then wave to the baby, turning myself back towards my basket to push.

"Wait... can I ask you something?" Toji then said. As I looked at him, he was looking straight at me; not the baby.

“…Yeah, sure!” I nod my head, gripping my grocery list nervously in my hand.

He looked at his son, slowly looking back at me.

"Does that mean you're single, by any chance?"

I'm not sure why my heart skips a beat at the question. “Um…yeah, I am actually,” I clear my throat as I feel my face becoming warm, “Why?”

He chuckles at my reaction as he replies, "The way that he was clinging to you, I thought that maybe he was onto something."

Okay, so he is flirting. Realizing that makes me even more flustered as I speak, “Oh…babies do have good intuition,” I point out. “Well, maybe this was his plan all along…to come find me,” I smile gently.

"Maybe it was. But one things for sure, the boy is interested in you,” He said, teasing. He tried pulling the baby farther back, Megumi beginning to whine, clearly wanting to stay closer to me.

“Mmm. Fair. But the real question is, is Daddy interested in me?” I tease back, asking the question more so towards Megumi, coming closer as I delicately tickle him with my fingers.

A small smirk appeared on Toji’s face.

"Maybe I am,” He said with a flirtatious tone, his son giggling from the tickles I gave him.

“Well maybe I have a number I can give to Daddy then, hm?” I cooed to Megumi.

As I cooed over the baby, I then looked up into Toji’s eyes directly. From the way he began to look a little flustered, I guess he didn't expect me to be as bold. Maybe Megumi really was on to something.

"You do?" He asked, his voice going raspy as he leaned in a little closer to me.

“I do. Let’s see if he’ll call me then.”

I take a piece of paper out of my notebook, writing my number down and placing it in Megumi’s small hand.

"Shit. Well I might just have to then, Seioni,” He said, eyes following my body as I walked away from him. Before I turned the corner out of the aisle, I saw the baby fumbling with the piece of paper in his hands. Toji smirked as he brought his attention to him, “What did she give you, champ?"

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

MAYBE I WAS BEING A CREEP. It was nearly three in the morning, a small box of Fig Newtons on the table as I stared at my phone, curiously waiting to see if he’d text. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s three a.m, and he has a child.

I wondered to myself why I was even still awake. The interaction from earlier might’ve given me a bit of a high, and now I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. I look down as the clock says it’s now 3:01AM, rolling my eyes as I stand up to put my snack away and go to bed.

That’s when the phone begins to ring.

I could’ve flown to the table if I suddenly grew wings, looking over the phone as an unknown number pops up. It probably wasn’t him. Another spam number, mostly likely. I wait a couple of seconds before I pick up the device, stepping back as I press the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

"Is this the beautiful, kind woman that gave her number to my son?" He asked, an immediate flirtatious sound to his voice as he spoke. I could hear the sound of random voices in the background.

My heart fluttered at his deep voice. I confidently replied, “Yes, is this the handsome man with the son?” I closed my eyes, wanting to kick myself in the throat.

He chuckled, amused at my compliment as he spoke, "Yep, that's me. I was surprised that the little one wanted your number so badly."

“Seems like he wanted it more than you did,” I tease.

"That's probably true." He replied, his voice going a little lower, “I do have a couple of questions though." He started to say, sounding a bit more serious now.

“Uh…cool, no problem. Go ahead with your questions,” I prod, sitting myself on my sofa.

He cleared his throat, trying to make clear what he was about to say next. The silence suddenly felt as if he was apprehensive of his question.

“Why are you single? You seem like an incredibly kind and attractive person.”

The question makes me chuckle. “That’s sweet. But…if I'm being honest, I just moved down here. I was in a relationship for a while before we broke up. I owned a tattoo shop back in my hometown, and I decided to expand out here. So, starting fresh in a new city,” I explain.

"You own a tattoo shop, really? I'm surprised I don’t have to fill out an application just to talk to you ,” He joked, his voice filled with curiosity.

“It’s gotten a lot more eyes on it than I ever imagined. But, unfortunately not, as far as the dating scene. My shop kinda runs itself, I have my regular artists who hold it down. I just do the paperwork now,” I reply.

I hear him adjust himself, a smirk now on his voice. “Wow. So you've got this nice shop, plus your own condo?”

I laugh, “Why’s that hard to believe? I’m a woman with her shit together. The topic of companionship never mattered to me, but I also wouldn’t mind the space being filled.”

"So you can handle yourself alone, I feel that,” He replied, giving a little chuckle, “But with all those qualities it just surprises me that you haven't found the right one. If I were to guess, I bet you get a lot of guys who hit on you."

“Not much since I’ve been down here, surprisingly. I’m usually at home a lot, if not in the office of the shop. You’re the first guy to actually approach me—but that was just due to circumstances, I guess,” I giggle.

"True. I’m glad I caught you before somebody else did. You said you were in a serious relationship before moving here, right?"

“Oh. Yeah,” I almost want to roll my eyes at the reminder, “But between you and me, I just turned twenty-nine. I’m ready for a seriously committed relationship. I don’t have time for the stupid shit—That stupid shit being a lot of stuff I dealt with in my hometown.”

"Yeah, I feel you on that,” He chuckles, “Sometimes the fun stuff can turn out to be the most problematic shit. The older we get, the more we learn what we want from someone. What was your previous relationship like?"

I adjust myself on the sofa as I think for a moment. “It was kinda an off and on relationship. He was the person my family wanted me to be with, everybody expected me to marry. But he was…boring? In every aspect. We didn’t have any of the same dreams or aspirations, the sex was pretty mediocre, and he didn’t take me seriously in my career. I don’t hate him, I just didn’t think we weren’t compatible,” I explained, “Is this an interrogation?” I then ask.

"No, no it isn't. I'm just trying to get to know more about you is all, beautiful,” Toji replied, his voice becoming a bit more deeper and flirtatious as he spoke.

"Plus, it seems like you already know what you want, which would definitely weed out a lot of guys anyway..."

“Mmm. So now I’m beautiful,” I repeat, “But yeah, it does. I want someone that’s gonna excite me in every aspect of the relationship. We can be two different people, but there has to be some fiery chemistry to create the connection I’m craving, you know?”

"Ex-act-ly!" He replied, "You want someone that can match your personality, not someone who settles for just whatever is given. Someone who can actually stimulate you, make you feel things that you've always wanted to feel. Someone who's confident and willing to take charge..." He paused, realizing he was going on a little bit of a rant.

"Sorry, I just got a little carried away there," he said with a small chuckle.

“No, you’re fine. We’re not having this conversation for you to be short. That’s exactly what I mean though, everything you said. I’m a lot to handle. And I’m not saying I need a man to ‘handle’ me, but I guess being grounded back down to earth at times…or even ‘handling’ me would be nice. I like a man a lil’ rough around the edges,'' I laugh softly.

"You like a man that's rough around the edges, huh? Someone who can really 'take control' of the situation?” Toji teased back, his voice going a little bit deeper.

I was enjoying how this conversation was going, our flirting felt entirely natural. But I didn’t wanna get ahead of myself yet.

I giggle softly as I reply, “Exactly. That’s exactly what I want,” I confirm, “But what about you? I…don’t want to be intrusive, but I’m just a little curious about Megumi’s mother. What happened to her? Were you guys together before she…passed?”

Silence comes within the phone. I immediately felt bad for even asking the question, quickly correcting myself as I spoke, “I’m sorry—“

"You’re good. We were together before she was pregnant with Megumi but...she passed away shortly after. She was…”

“We don’t have to finish this conversation, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” I reply, hearing his voice becoming different.

"It's fine, really,” he continues, “We were together. We had Megumi, but then she passed from birth complications.”

“I understand. My um…my birth mom actually passed away when giving birth to my youngest brother, which left me and my second brother to go into foster care early—but my family now is perfect. So I understand the feeling you get when you speak about her. I don’t know the actual feeling because that was someone you loved romantically, but my mom was my mom, so…” I shifted my body on the sofa, distracting myself not to become upset, “I get it. Grief comes with time, time comes with patience, patience comes with preservation.”

“And here I thought you were just someone I met by chance,” I feel relieved to hear him teasing again.

I laugh softly, “And here I thought you were some hot guy that looks like a villain, or might be a villain! Clearly there’s more to you than that, and it’s very sweet. But, it seems like you’ll have a little competition in trying to win my affection,” I remind jokingly.

“Villain? Shit, might be. But I don't mind the competition. I'm up for it if you are,” He speaks confidently.

“Competing against your baby son? Shame, Toji,” I shake my head, “I think he had me first, though.”

"Damn. That’s crazy. I guess he does have you all to himself then, huh? But for real, I’m not even jealous. It's just funny seeing him take such an interest in someone. He usually doesn't show much expression to other people, but he really went out of his way to want to know you. So you can take that as a compliment."

“I do, actually. It seems like he’s tired of your ass, he needs a womanly touch,” I playfully insult.

"Oh really? You think you know more about my son than I do?”

“Mmm, I’m not too sure. I mean, I don’t have any kids, yet I somehow knew your baby was teething before you did…weird, right?” I mock his sarcasm.

"Yeah, right. Like you, some lonely ass woman who's got no kids can know more about my own son than me, even though you haven't even spent an hour with him yet,” He scoffed back, “I bet you don't even know that he started a new habit recently."

“Ouch, I am not lonely!” I chuckle, “I have two cats, actually. They’re great companions. And what’s this new habit he started? I’m curious,” I reply.

"He’s really into Doc Mcstuffins, as you can currently hear in my background. He also started chewing his thumb. He'll do it when he gets fussy, or he can't get to sleep...” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice as he talked about Megumi.

“I hope you didn’t take that baby’s pacifier away before he was ready. He’s looking for it, asshole!” I insult, “That’s why he’s chewing on his thumb. You should try putting his pacifier in the freezer and then giving it to him. He’ll love that. And yes, I am a cat lady, better than a fussy man around my house, eating all my food and paying no damn bills!”

"Hey, I didn't take his pacifier away! I would never do that to him. But you're right, I haven't tried the freezer thing with his pacifier yet before. I should do that soon, and see how he takes it."

“Good. The coldness on his teeth will really help that process of them coming in. See, maybe he ran to me because he needed a girly touch to things. The boy knows what he wants in a woman,” I hum.

"Mmm, I think he just wanted to see if he could get a better reaction out of you. I guess he was bored of me. Although, the only type of 'girly touch' I can imagine you doing to a guy is kicking him. You seem far too aggressive for someone that wants to be seen with more of a ‘womanly touch’.”

“Oh god. You did not just hit me with the angry black woman trope. Megumi was practically in love with me. Don’t act like you don’t like my aggression and hostility, otherwise you wouldn’t be on the phone with me,” I laugh.

He laughs, “Nah. It’s not like that. Maybe aggression is kind of 'my thing.' I do have a little bit of a kink for that..." He said, teasing me again.

“Mhm, exactly. I know you think it’s a little sexy, so shut up,” I reply, “ But, I guess to prove that he is in fact in love with me, a second interaction is needed.”

"A second interaction? So you think you're definitely going to win his heart this time, huh?"

“I’ve already won it. And if I don’t, you can laugh in my face for it, hm?” I suggest.

“Imma’ have to set up a second interaction then, just to see which one of us is the winner. I’m not finna’ let you take the heart of my son! I have too much pride for that."

“It’s a deal then. Give me a time, and I’ll be there,” I hum, feeling completely comfortable in this conversation.

"How about... in 3 days. Does that work for you?" I could suddenly hear a flirtatious vibe in his voice.

Three days felt like a very short time. I don’t know why I went from being comfortable to nervous. To be able to actually see this man in person again, it made me…intimidated. But it also made me very curious.

“Mmm, in three days? I think I can do that. Make sure everything’s together in my shop, so I can have all the time for you and your little miniature self,” I chuckle.

"I'll make sure everything is prepared then. But you also better prep yourself as well, you don't know what to expect fuckin’ with me,” he speaks cockily, my eyes rolling at his confident tone.

“You say that as if I’m supposed to be intimidated. I think you should be more worried about handling me, Toji…” I drawled his name sultrily, wanting to play him at his own game.

“Oh for real? And why exactly should I be worried about handling you?" he questioned, his cocky tone returning.

“I’m a shower more than a teller. Guess I’ll just leave that in mystery now.”

"If that's the case, then it seems like I have three days to figure out what kind of woman you actually are before we 'compete' for Megumi's love’,” He said.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll answer the phone, maybe I won’t,” I playfully responded.

"Then I guess I should make sure I stay near the phone the entire weekend, huh? You really want to win Megumi over? Or is it something else?"

“Don’t turn this around on me. Now, I fell in love with little Megumi. It’s a plus that his father is incredibly sexy, so, maybe I am looking for more. But so are you,” I speak slowly, flirting into the phone.

"Be more specific when you tell me what you want from me.”

I raise my eyebrows. Why the fuck did that kinda arouse me?

I clear my throat as I reply, “Damn. You making demands already? So dominant. You want everything your way, I can tell,” I point out, “But, maybe I’m…interested in you romantically as well. God, I should’ve lied, I can feel that cocky ass smirk on your face as I speak.”

“I am dominant,” he corrects me, “But repeat what you said. Are you romantically interested in me?”

I roll my eyes, “Yes, Toji. Happy?”

“Very.”

“Mhm. I think you like that idea a little too much. But, it’s unfortunate that I have to get off the phone. I have to go handle some infuriated customer at the shop, mentally preparing myself for the bullshit as we speak,” I sigh.

“Damn. This late?”

“This late. My shop runs overnight too, my artists love making some money.”

“Me and your artists have that in common… I wanted to talk to you a little bit longer,” he admits.

“Seems like someone’s more interested than they make themselves to be,” I flirtatiously hum, “But seriously, I do have to go. I’m sorry. You’ll see me in three days, so…think on that.”

"I'll be thinking about you for the next three days."

“Goodbye, Toji.” I smiled, hanging up with a small flush on my cheeks. I press my hands to my face as I lay out on the couch, laughing to myself in embarrassment. Dammit. I was such a softy.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡

“OKAY. OKAY. FUCK. OKAY, THIS IS GOOD, RIGHT?”

I stand in the mirror of my bedroom, twisting and turning my body as I stare at myself. The black corset clung to my figure. The long skirt I wear is equally tight as my hips struck out, my right hip peeking through from the high slit on one side.

“I mean, it’s not too much, right?” I frown at myself.

“Girl, I’d fuck you. You look amazing,” my friend compliments.

“Thank you. But I’m not looking for him to fuck me, ma’am. I actually…find myself liking him.”

“Ooh, the Ice Queen has a heart?”

“….I might want him to shake my uterus loose. Just a little bit,” I admit.

My friend laughs, “That’s what I thought. But seriously, you look beautiful, Oni’. If he doesn’t want you, we’ll go out to the bar and find a man that does!”

“Thank you. But I don’t want a drunken idiot. I want him,” I say honestly.

My ginger hair comes down in wavy layers as I brush my fingers through it. The color compliments my winged eyes, lips a dark shade of mauve. I hope I can survive in the skimpy strapless heel I wear, a small pink bow on the front straps. I blew out a breath.

“What if he—“

“Girl. You said you were practically caked up with him until damn near five a.m. If the man doesn’t like you, he’s insane.”

I try to shake my insecurities as I exhale, “You’re right. Okay. I’m gonna go, I love you. If I don’t text back in the next two hours, put a police report out on me!”

“Or you’re getting criminally fucked,” my friend smirks.

“You’re disgusting, and that was a horrible pun. Goodbye.”

I hang up the phone, spraying myself of my vanilla perfume as I take another spin in the mirror. I knew I looked good, I just hoped that he felt the same way. Grabbing the small gift bag, I grab my keys as I quickly make my way out of the door.

My heart stammers in my chest as I turn the music up in my Lamborghini, speeding down the road to block out the noise in my head. I usually never had an issue with presenting myself to anyone, especially a man. Why was he any different?

As I think to myself, I look down at the map on the screen of my radio, looking up to see that I was pulling in what looked to be an extremely wealthy neighborhood. All the houses seemed to be older, simple and light colored as I slowed myself down the road. One particular house stood out. As I came to the end of the neighborhood, the last house stood by itself, spaced out between all the others. It was all black, contemporarily styled as it was flat unlike the other houses that were pointed. Most of the walls within this house were glass, my eyes able to see into the home that had all black furniture, marble granite counters and other lavish items. I raised my eyebrow as the map confirmed that I had made it to my destination.

“What the hell…”

I pull my car into the circular driveway, parking next to the three cars that slanted above the grey brick on the ground. They were an all black, matte wrapped Rolls Royce, G-Wagon and a Corvette.

“Huh,” I muttered to myself.

I stepped out of the car, holding my skirt as I slowly made my way up to the front door. My heart began stammering itself again, I took a deep breath as I rang the doorbell. The longer it took for the door to open, the more I thought about just walking away and going home.

The door then swings open, my eyes following up to that same darkly attractive face. This time, with no clothes. He stood there in a dark red towel covering his lower half, using another towel as he dried his onyx hair. My eyes glanced down to the tattoo I’d previously seen, watching it snake all the way up to the side of his neck. The body that I’d see before was now in full view, more perfectly toned and defined up close. His veins traveled in his arms, flexing as he dried himself off.

“Hey, Pretty. I’m sorry for not being ready, Megumi’s pacifier went missing before I put him down for his morning nap, so that fucked up my track of time. You would’ve thought that shit was world war three,” he explains. He eyes me up and down as he then takes my hand, kissing my palm. “You look fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” I replied, “And it’s fine…did you find it?”

I try to distract myself as my eyes flicker down to the bulge that stares back at me, bigger than I’d imagine it to be.

“Yeah, in his damn toy box. Let me get dressed, I’ll come meet you back downstairs. Come in.”

I nod my head, watching as he turns away and begins walking down the hall, my upper body leaning into the door as I watch him.

“You still lookin’?” He calls teasingly, obviously noticing my eyes.

“Mhm…” I call back, watching as he disappears down the hallway.

Closing the door behind myself, I notice that all of his shoes are by the front. I take that as a sign that he doesn’t allow shoes on his floor, removing my heels next to the outrageously smaller shoes next to his. My eyes take in the up-close scenery of this house, all black architecture with minimalist decoration. Paintings of women with no faces lay along his walls, silver electronics sat on the tables, leading up to a TV as big as a theater screen. My ears catch attention to the music dancing all around the house, I nearly roll my eyes.

“Of course this motherfucker listens to Brent,” I mutter.

I sit the small gift bag I have against the table, leaning myself on the end as I continue to stare at his home. My eyes come back down as he now appears, fully dressed in a black long sleeve and matching sweatpants.

“The present is for Megumi I’m assuming? Kiss ass,” he disses.

I roll my eyes, “Whatever, hater. Don’t be mad cause you didn’t think of it!”

“What’s in there?” He repeats, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, since you think I’m such a kiss ass, I thought I’d buy some Silicone Teethers for your baby, and to help your big headed ass.”

“My head’s that big?”

“Anyways, I figured these would be better for soothing the pain. You can put these in the freezer. I also got him a new pacifier as well.”

“Cute,” is all he says, his gaze shifting down my body.

“Where’s Megumi?” I then raise my eyebrows, “You’re easily distracted.”

“I can’t help myself,” he shrugs, “He’s still down from his nap earlier.”

“Mmm,” I reply back, scanning him up and down as I compliment, “You have a nice ass house. But what do you do for work? I mean, luxury cars, inputted speakers in the ceiling? You in the mafia or something?”

“You’re half right, but it’s not always mafia related work.”

“Oh hell. I was joking,” I reminded him, “You’re serious?”

“And I get paid damn well for it.”

“And you trust me to keep this secret?”

“You can do whatever you want with that information, see where it gets you.”

“Ooh, boy. Please don’t get smacked,” I threaten.

“I appreciate the stuff you got him, seriously. Thank you. Tryna’ play mommy already?” He grins.

“You wish. The hopeless romantic you are, Toji,” I sigh, “Haven’t even been around me for an hour yet. Sure you aren’t falling in love already?”

“Who said that I wasn’t? I’m a grown ass man, I like you. And?”

He came closer to me as I still leaned against the end of the table, hovering over my frame as he stared down at me. I grinned to myself, “Well I might like you too, but I like playing hard to get.”

“That’s cool, I like to play with my prey before I catch it,” He plays back with me.

I raise my eyebrows, “You’re one arrogant bastard, aren’t you?”

The natural flirtation had returned. I raise my hand out as I place it at the bottom of his shirt, twisting as I tug him forward.

“You like it,” he comes even closer, bringing his eyes down to my lips as he leans in. I then pressed my hand against his lips as I stopped him from kissing me, giggling sultrily as I said, “I think you should go get your son, Toji.”

“Nah, I shouldn’t.”

I shake my head, amused at his now irritated face as I push him back and say, “You should. I’ll be here.”

“You better be,” he gruffly responds, turning as he makes his way back down the hallway of his house. I blew out a breath, my composure coming down as I felt my heart slowly speeding itself up. As I looked around, I began to wonder how many women had been in this house. It wasn’t my business, but I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t one of his conquests.

I turn my head as I hear footsteps making their way back towards the living room, ridding my mind of all the thoughts I had.

“You look nervous,” he notices.

“Not at all,” I lied.

I look behind him as I hear small footsteps clumsily making their way into the living room, my heart melting all over again as Megumi appears. He wears a brown wool onesie, the hoodie attached to the neck part having animal ears that looked to be bears. He wears a small golden chain around his wrist.

“Don’t ask about the onesie, the boy loves his teddy bears,” Toji shakes his head.

Instead of coming straight towards me, we both watched as Megumi stumbled around the room, observing everything that he could as he walked around. His cheeks were fat and full, movements reckless as he was bumping into things by accident.

I slowly squat down as I smile softly, “Hi, handsome. Miss me?”

Megumi's head quickly turned around as he heard me, his big golden eyes now meeting mine. Excitement comes along his soft face, a squeak releasing from his lips as he nearly falls over, staggering to me. I laugh shockingly as I catch him in my arms, picking him up as I squeeze gently.

"Ah shit. He likes you,” Toji smacks his lips.

“Mmm, I think he does, too. Now, didn’t you say that we were betting on winning his affection? Cause I think I’m doing pretty well. He recognized me all the way from the grocery store.”

“I think you’ve won the bet.”

“I know I did,” Megumi wraps his small arms around my neck and hair, leaning himself against my chest. I cooed, “Hi, sweetheart. I got you something, wanna see?” I knew that he couldn’t respond, but I still wanted to communicate with him.

“Look,” I turn, sitting him against the large black table, pulling out the teether I mentioned earlier. I also grabbed the small rattle I hadn’t mentioned to Toji, placing it in his hand. I take his wrist as I gently shook it from side to side to show him what to do. Megumi began to shake it around, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he did so.

“I think I might’ve chosen the wrong toy for your Daddy’s sake. Seems like he won’t be sleeping for a while,” I whisper, playfully rubbing my finger against Megumi’s cheek.

I could hear him chuckling behind me, coming forward as he kissed the baby's cheek, “You like everything, lil’ man?”

“Hm?” I then lift the cold pacifier I have in the bag as well as other cold toys, placing it in his mouth. The baby hummed softly in response, causing me to smile, turning to Toji as I spoke, “He really does like everything!”

“I can tell, you like everything, hm?” He then raises the baby up in the air, giggles flying all around the room. I laugh quietly at their interaction.

“So, how many women have you played house with like this?” I can’t keep this question to myself anymore.

He holds Megumi to his chest as he hears my question, raising his eyebrow as he replies, “Many women, if you really wanna know.”

That made me roll my eyes as he then continued, “But don’t act like you haven’t had as many men in comparison.”

“Mmm, I actually haven’t. But as for you, that’ll be an issue if you expect me to take you seriously,” I tilt my head.

“What are you trying to say?”

I sigh. “You’re sexy, Toji. I’m not stupid to think you don’t have multiple notches on that bed post of yours, you have a child, for god’s sake. Your sexual appetite is probably…hungry at all times. Especially if you had a woman crazy enough to moan that she wanted your child. But seriously, I don’t care about that. I just wanna make sure I’m not another one of your conquests, cause if that’s the case, we can cut this interaction extremely short.”

The amusement on his face makes a glare almost come to mine. When he notices that I’m entirely serious he comes forward as he says “You aren’t,” affirming my suspicion.

“We’ll see,” I then hum. “So, were we gonna spend the rest of the day with Megumi? Or did you want me all to yourself, you did seem a little jealous on the phone,” I tease.

"I would actually like to spend some alone time with you...but if you're okay with just spending the rest of the day with Megumi, I'm fine with that too,” he replies, shrugging as he awaits my answer.

“Mmm, I think I can spend some time with you, Daddy,” I said sultrily, “Where will Megumi be?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, “Think I’ll probably put him down for his evening nap.”

“Sure. He seems to be…already there,” I giggle as I then notice Megumi passed out on Toji’s chest.

“I’ll go put him down. Want a glass of wine? I don’t do that expensive shit, it isn’t all that good…do you drink Stella Rose?” He asks.

I place my hands on my chest as I sigh dreamily, “You had me at Stella Rose.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nods, making his way back down the hallway. He then came back and went into the kitchen. I sat myself along the sofa, my eyes sweeping over his large arms, wondering how strong he was. I could feel a chill go down my spine at the thought.

I take the glass out of his hand as I see he also poured himself a glass of brown liquor, “Thank you,” pressing my lips up to the sweet drink. He sits himself against the sofa next to me, scooting me closer to him as he pulls my legs over his thigh.

“So, tell me, what’s the plan for you in a couple of years. You mentioned your….illegal activities, anything else you wanna do career wise?” I curiously ask.

“Mmm, own a jet, build an enterprise, be able to buy Megumi anything he wants under the sun. And…time travel,” he shrugs, sipping his drink.

“I’m assuming you have a plan…” he asks curiously, finding my topic to be intriguing.

“Well, eventually. My business is doing great as of right now. All my artist get paid pretty well for their work, so I want to get to a point where I can open multiple shops nationwide. I’ll have managers for those shops, not even have to do any of the work. Just watch the money roll in,” I shrug.

“Sounds like you’re pretty confident in yourself.”

“I’m pretty cocky when it comes to my career, I’ll admit. I’m a badass tattoo artist, the work speaks for itself. My pen is fucking dangerous,” I admit, taking another sip of my wine, giggling to myself. I was becoming a little tipsy, I knew that.

“I hope you really got the skills to back it up then,” he grins.

“Of course. All the ink on my body, I’ve done myself.”

He scans my body, noticing all the ink upon it. He then asks, “What’s your biggest piece?”

“For sure my tiger. As you can see it kinda swims to my thigh,” I refer to the red ink that scales my skin, “Everything else was kinda out of pure boredom. But pure boredom caused that scar on my ass, so,” I laugh.

"You’re saying that you have more pieces due to pure boredom alone..." He repeated with a soft chuckle, finding it funny. When I mentioned the scar on my ass, he burst out laughing.

"How in the hell...did you get a scar on your ass?" He asked, unable to stop laughing.

“I tried to do a tattoo on my ass and went too hard with the needle. It’s a sad story,” I pout.

" Were you drunk at the time or something?"

I smack his arm as he still laughs, “Hey! Laughing is not allowed. I pride myself on tattooing in any state of mind. But…maybe I was a bit inebriated,” I admit, taking another sip of wine.

“You’re crazy…”

“I have a nice ass, what can I say? I thought some ink would look nice on there,” I shrug, laughing with him.

“I’ll agree, that ass is something else,” he shrugs, finishing off his drink.

“Oh? So you admit you’ve been looking at my ass?” I raise my eyebrow, “And oh, c’mon! I’m sure you have a bad drunk story.”

“Nothing as wild as your shit,” he chuckles.

“Whatever,” I shrug, “Back to this time travel thing, were you serious?”

“Kinda…you know in mythology, time travel is real.”

“Oh god, are you tipsy?” I joke, “Hm. Well, what would you do if you had the ability to time travel?”

“Probably travel back to a time where my family was alive. I’d change a lot,” he responds.

“Pretty understanding. To meet the people that created you is a wondrous adventure, I’d assume. Or a horrible idea. Same difference. I’d steal the Statue of Liberty or something, I don’t give a damn if it’s an important artifact. The bitch is terrifying,” I finish off my glass of wine.

“Something we can agree on. You uh…good on the wine?” He tilts his head.

“Boy, please. I drink wine like I drink water. And what the hell were you drinking? Does it turn you into a monster or something?”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “Nah, nothing like that. It was just Crown. Shit just makes me a little more flirty and outspoken.”

“So your regular self, then?”

“Exactly.”

“So how are you feeling right now then? About me?” I ask curiously.

“About you?” He repeats, thinking to himself, “I’d say I find you pretty charming, funny, sexy. All of the above.”

“And…you’re physically attracted to me?” I lean closer to him, a warmth over my entire body that only happened when I drank. Damn you Stella Rose.

“I’d be lying if I wasn’t, Oni’.”

“Well good, cause I find you pretty attractive as well,” I smile, “If you remember, you um…tried to kiss me before you brought Megumi out,” I mentioned.

“Did I?” He replies, a sarcasm along his face. Now he was playing with me. “I think you liked that shit, didn’t you?”

“I did. I think… I might want you to test your luck again…” I tempted.

“Really?” He grins, seeing as I have a new set of confidence within myself, eyeing me up and down as I crawl closer to him.

“Mhm,” I sat my wine glass down, pushing myself up as I now straddled his lap. I placed his hands on my hips.

His eyes widened slightly, fingers gripping around my hips yet he said nothing as he watched me. I then asked, “What’s wrong?” trailing my finger down his chest, bringing my eyes up innocently.

“…Nothing…” he stumbles, still unable to say more than that.

“What happened to that cocky man that always wanted things his way, hm? I think I miss him…” I trail off, biting back my smile.

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” His eyes come down, staring down at my lips. I could tell that he was tempted to kiss me, and if being honest, I really wanted him to.

“I mean…Toji…” I slowly come forward, hovering my lips right above his as I speak, “If you wanna kiss me…come take what you want.”

It’s almost as if the suggestion made something in him snap. The urge that had been slowly building up was now in control of him, as he leaned forward, closing the tiny distance between our mouths. But instead of just taking what he wanted from me, he started to gently brush his lips against mine in a slower, softer way. With all the flirting I did earlier to get to him, it was his time to do the same.

His lips slowly ran against mine, teasingly touching my bottom lip before he moved to the top one as well. It felt all too enticing. His teasing caused me to grip the bottom of his shirt, twisting it slightly as he made me aroused. I whimpered at this movement embarrassingly, wanting to pull him closer. He couldn't help but smirk. He slowly grabbed my hips as he brought himself closer to me. I wanted more.

“Don’t play with me,” I beg, “Kiss me.”

"I think I'll keep playing..." He countered, thankfully having no plans to keep me waiting any longer. His hands gripped my hips tightly as he moved his mouth against mine, passion flooding in. My words had caused him to lose control of himself, and the flirty talk from earlier was nowhere in sight. He also wanted more. Badly.

I moved my lips with his, nearly losing my senses as his tongue was in my mouth, taking control of the kiss as if he were trying to assert his dominance. I relaxed in his hold, allowing myself to submit to him. I was in a trance. I’d never been so aroused from just a kiss, the ache between my thighs beginning to grow as I slowly grind myself against him, moaning softly at the feeling.

He was practically filled with adrenaline. His hands gripped tightly around my hips as my moan echoed in the room, he moaned softly in response to my movement. His lips ran aggressively against mine, tongue exploring my mouth. When he pulled back, I now felt his lips along my throat, holding the side of my neck as he sucked the skin. I closed my eyes and breathed harshly, “T—Toji…I think you’re a little drunk…” I giggle, my breath hitching intensely.

"Yeah...maybe I am a little bit..." He muttered softly against my neck as he continued to lightly suck, enjoying the way I was reacting to his actions. He definitely wasn't stopping what he was doing, now biting my flesh.

I moaned at the slight pain from him biting the skin, feeling myself becoming more aroused. I could feel my corset lowering, my nipples being exposed to him and my face flushed in embarrassment as I tried to pull the material up. I kept thinking, was this gonna lead to sex? Was I ready for that with him?

“Toji…I just…wait,” I breathed, his mouth all over my skin, “I just…wanna make sure that this is the right time for us to do this…” I kept talking, moaning as he continued to touch me.

"Well...” He breathed out in between kisses, “When do you think is the right time?"

“I don’t know…I—guess there isn’t necessarily a t—time,” I responded, aroused at every touch he made against my skin, I moaned again for him as I whimpered, “S—so…good…”

I knew the way I answered with a stutter caused his eyebrow to raise in curiosity, deciding to probe a little further. His hands roamed all over my body as his kisses traced my neck, speaking to me in a flirty tone.

"So...you're telling me...that it doesn't necessarily matter the time when we do this? Because...if that's the case..." He sighed, hands sliding down to my thighs.

“N—no…” I shivered, realizing that he was now messing with me. I wanted him to continue. Dammit. Why was I nervous again? I could barely respond back to him. I inhaled a sharp breath as I then felt his hand find my hair, tugging as he used his other hand to grip my throat, pulling me close to his face.

"Ahh...so now you're getting scared..." he whispered into my ear.

“I’m not scared…” I panted, trying to remove his hand from my throat as he gripped a bit tighter, pulling me so close to his face as he cockily smiled. I couldn’t help it, I loved the way he was talking to me.

"You sure?" His hand readjusted with the intent to squeeze harder if I kept resisting.

“M’…not scared of you, Toji…” I gritted out my teeth.

The way I spoke made him smirk even more at my words. He wanted to hear me say something.

"Oh? Well, what are you scared of, then?" He whispered softly against my ear, the hand that was previously in my hair sliding up my thighs, squeezing my ass gently.

I was nervous to actually admit this. I then closed my eyes as I responded, “How r—rough you can be…” I admit. I was intimidated by him, but it only excited me more.

"That’s how you want it?"

I nodded my head, shivering at his mouth against my ear, “Yes, please.” I nodded again.

I barely had time to react. My breath hitched as he then flipped our positions on the sofa, I grunt as he bent me over the furniture, pushing my back inward so I arched my body against him. He ripped my skirt off of my legs, my ears hearing the material shred lightly. I jump as he spanks the skin of my thigh.

“So polite…”

“Toji…I…”

I took in another sharp breath as he pulled me upwards to where my back met with his chest, his hand coming around from behind as it gripped my throat, pulling me close to him. He used his other hand as he ripped the lace of my underwear apart, the fabric trickling down to the ground. My eyes flicked upwards to the wall across from us. I could see myself in full view. He twisted my hair in his fist, tugging me up to look in his eyes. Leaning down, he spread my flesh apart with his fingers as he attached his mouth between my legs, immediately sucking on my clit. I closed my eyes as a moan plummeted from my lips. I arched myself forward, his hand in my hair pulling me backwards onto his tongue, mouth creating a sloshing sound against my core. I groaned at the feeling, swaying my hips to match his movement. He grunted against my skin, spanking his palm down on my ass in repetitions.

My stomach cramped as I tensed, arching myself down to see him from behind me. His eyes flicked up to mine, a grin surfacing against my skin. He closed his eyes as he placed his hands under my legs, pulling me backwards as he moaned, full on making out with my lower lips, tongue continuously dipping in and out of my opening.

“‘Shit ain’t never tasted so good, baby. Never had anything like you. Imma eat your shit until you squirt,” he groans.

It’s unfortunate that I wasn’t too long from doing that. I could barely hold myself together, circling my hips onto his face, his tongue lapping as if he starved for me, ached for me. He was chaotic in the best way, face diving entirely into me, sucking harshly on my clit as he gripped my hips, grinding me against his tongue. I could feel myself gushing before I could realize. He encourages, “Yeah, baby. She listening to me, huh?”

I shuddered against him, taking in the breath I’d lost as he now fully stands. He removed his shirt, throwing it to the side as he brought his eyes to mine.

“Come take these off, see what’s finna’ be yours soon.”

I turn fully, seeing him back up. “Crawl,” he demands.

The heat in my body turned up with every word he said. I lower myself off the sofa, placing my hands in front of each other as my legs sultrily follow, flicking my eyes up to his as I pull his sweatpants down. His length springs in front of my face, bigger than I’d seen from his bulge earlier. It was heavy in my hand as I immediately brought my fingers around it, his hand coming back into my hair as he tugged my eyes upwards, “You want it in your mouth?”

“Yes,” I nodded.

“Of course you fuckin’ do,” he pulls my jaw open, sliding himself in between my lips, filling my mouth until I felt him in the back of my throat. He grunts, my mouth bobbing against his hips as I choke, humming out the drool releasing from the sides of my lips.

I tried my best to keep up with his movements, swaying my neck back and forward as I closed my eyes, moaning as he fixed himself to the back of my throat. He pulls out from my mouth, slapping himself against my tongue as he speaks, “Treating this shit like it already belongs to you, hm?”

I nod my head. He leans himself down as he slides his hand to where it meets the side of my face, keeping a slight grip of my jaw beneath his fingers. I had never seen myself be this immediately submissive towards a man. But I also didn’t feel bad about it either.

“Wanna put it back in your mouth, or you want me to fuck you?”

“Fuck me.”

“Please?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Please,” I softly repeat myself.

“That’s what I thought,” he replies smugly, lightly smacking the side of my cheek. I have the urge to roll my eyes, nipples hardening at the hand along my face.

As I’m back against the sofa, I turn myself to face the mirror to see my expression was now purely filled with lust, wanting to fulfill the fantasy I imagined every time I stared at him. He follows behind me as he brings his hand to back of my neck. I had no room to argue as he leaned me forward, my nipples pressing against the leather material. He takes his other hand as he grips my hip, tip bobbing up and down gently along my folds. He pushed himself in inch by inch, stretching me in a way I’d never felt before, causing my mouth to drop open. I gasped loudly. I felt a deep pinch in my lower stomach, the feeling equally overriding in a deep sense of pleasure. I whimpered loudly, “Tojiii…”

He couldn't help but grin at the way I reacted to him. His grip around my throat became tighter when he heard these things, my shivering continuing as our hips met one another. Chills crawled up my spine. He moved slowly at first, taking his time as it caused me to drag out a moan, feeling every single pleasure from him. I closed my eyes, using the sofa as leverage as I found something to hold onto. “Oh god…”

His gentle movement allowed this feeling to last a lifetime. My moans seemed to be something that he found extremely hot, planning to continue the pace to keep it going for as long as possible. His hand circled around to the front of my throat, continuing to move against me, not speeding it up just yet. I wasn’t sure if I wanted more or if this was just as perfect.

“Oh my…” I gasped, trembling as I bit my lip to control my voice. His slow movements were driving me insane, feeling so good. I couldn’t hide the amount of pleasure I felt as I kept talking to him, “Baby…” I called, finding another term of endearment for him, “F—Feels so good,” I nodded my head.

“I know.”

I continued to gasp, shake, moan, and whimper. He knew it was driving me insane, wanting to keep moving slowly for as long as possible. My words were more than enough to fill his ego. He continued to go at the same pace for a bit, then began to speed up. He was curious to see just how much more pleasure he could make me feel.

My grip on the sofa became tighter. He loosened his hold on my throat as he then moved that same hand upwards as he slid his fingers in my mouth, using the leverage to pull me back against him. I then began helping him, moving myself back to match his rhythm, causing me to moan a bit louder.

“Toji….” Is all I could say, my head falling back as I moaned, his fingers shoving deeper in my throat. I lost control of my own rhythm, the leverage he had against me stronger as he bounced me back onto him. My eyes fluttered shut as I gasped from the feeling, whining as I continued to filthily bounce against him. I babbled, “Toji…baby…my god….” I just couldn’t stop myself. I slowly began to feel pleasurable tears forming in my eyes.

"Is that all you can say at this point? Is that what I've reduced you to? Just a simple whimper and my name?” He says back to me, continuing to thrust himself back in. His rhythm became faster as he dragged me back down more aggressively. My noises became louder, more feminine and filled with pleasure. He was right. I couldn’t stop moaning his name. He then added another hand to my throat, now gripping it harder this time with two hands as I bounced back and forth.

“Toji…I—I can’t…” I panted, whining as I wrapped my hand around one of his wrists, neither of his hands letting up from their hold against my throat. I looked up as I could see the mirror across from the sofa, my eyes closing embarrassingly as I could see myself. My flustered and submissive face. When I saw Toji noticing my stare, I grunted as he forcefully pointed my face to the mirror, now snapping his hips into mine.

“You’re a big girl, Oni’. I know you can talk to me. You can't do what?” He asks, “Look at you, big girl” . He keeps my face up to my reflection, “Taking my dick like this. Your pussy is gripping the fuck out of me. She likes it, so I know you do. Keep whining. I love that shit.”

I closed my eyes, unable to hold myself together anymore. I cried out, “Oh my goddd. I love the way you’re fucking me, baby. Yes,” I groaned, crying out louder as he never stopped his movements.

He smiled as I cracked beneath him, my moans uncontrollable at this point. The way I cried out for him was a way I never responded to any man in bed. His hands now tightened around my throat in a way that it was almost too much, yet there was no second of my mouth shutting. I just kept going.

“I hate you,” I cried, “You’re making me feel so… fucking good,” I moaned loudly, my eyes unable to snatch themselves away from his face in the mirror.

His grip finally loosened a bit, still remaining firm as he started to go even faster against me. His low laugh echoed along the room in a way that heightened my embarrassment. However, he'd keep going anyway.

He pulled me upward and close to his chest, holding me firmly as he fucked me. My ears listened as he brought his lips to them, speaking filthily, "You know you love it when I choke you, right? You like the fact that I take control…You like being used by me..”

I closed my eyes, whimpering and crying like a baby. I nodded my head as I trembled, “Yes. Yes. Yesssss…” was all I could make out.

Our bodies were in unison, his ego most likely in the high heavens by now. The way he spoke filthily into my ear would only cause him to hit more buttons, he held my face tightly in his hold, voice right in my ear. He spoke into it, sending chills down my spine.

"Say it, baby…”

“…Say..what…” I panted heavily, bringing my eyes away from the mirror.He was implausible, never slowing down his movements. I was listening.

"Say you belong to me..." He spoke in a firm tone, holding both of my hands down behind my back as he kept up with his movements.

“N—no,” I stuttered, biting my lip as I lowered my head. He used the leverage he had on my arms pulled behind me and pulled me up again, forcing me to look at myself in the mirror as he bounced me back onto him harder than before. I whined, my entire body trembling beneath him. The fact that I didn't immediately obey his commands caught his attention, as he'd grip me harder to make me look at myself as well as him. The bouncing back and forth on the sofa made my muscles weak as he kept going, speaking to me through both the mirror and his own mouth.

"Such a stubborn girl...do you want to be owned by me, or do I need to break you first..."

I closed my eyes, saying nothing in response. I could feel the arrogance pouring off of him, a low sob releasing from my chest as he tugged me back against him, my arms begging to be released from his hold. His smirk grew even more as I didn't respond to his words, keeping me close to his body. He knew I enjoyed every second of this.

“My fuckin’ god….Daddy,” I whined, my entire body purely hot from embarrassment as I called him this, his movements making me submissively chaotic. I watched him in the mirror, unable to hold myself together as I kept babbling, “I’m yours, baby. It’s yours. All of it. Just don’t stop. My god. Don’t stop.”

I spoke all of this into the mirror. I meant every word I said. His hips plummeted into mine, merciless as our skin slapped together. My entire vision filled with the image of my own body, hot and trembling, as he continued to go.

“Tell me I’m yours, I love when you talk to me. Tell me I’m fucking yours,” I cry, knowing I’d hate myself later for it, “Tell me I’m a good girl, I’m listening, you make me feel so good. No one has…” I took in another breath, “Ever made me f—feel this good.”

"You're mine," he spoke now, sounding more aggressive and demanding.

“Say it again,” I beg, seeing the tears in my face as I looked in the mirror, biting my lip as I couldn’t stop moaning.

He smirked as I begged. He knew I would despise myself later on, but the words made him smile even more. It all filled him with so much arrogance.

“You’re mine.” He repeated this to me, drilling himself between my hips, skin wetly coming together each time he was inside me.

“Yes. I’m yours baby, all yours. Yes. Yes. Yes.…” I said through each movement, crying out in a way I’d never heard myself before.

"And you belong to me?” He asks, grin on his face as he'd make the movements a bit slower. As if he was teasing me for the next answer.

“Nobody else, Daddy,” my tears poured in a quick stream, dropping down onto the sofa as he had his way with me.

The way he heard these words, the way I answered him so quickly. I knew for a fact that I’d never forget tonight, and he knew that I’d be begging for him again soon. Very soon.

“I’m so close….I’m gonna…please don’t stop, Toji. Please…” I called to him, full on crying now, my body trembling so hard that I had to firmly hold myself up.

"Beg me..." he demanded. He was moving slower, as if he was teasing me even more. There was no tiredness in his voice, as I was becoming extremely exhausted from each movement he made against me.

“I’m begging, baby. Please. I’ll never stop fucking begging,” I cried, dragging out my words.

"Good girl..." he spoke, a chuckle hiding in his tone. My tension began to rise, my body becoming harder and harder to hold as he was still going slow. His grip on my throat didn't loosen this time, holding onto me firmly. I could feel that same pinch beginning to build in the pit of my stomach, begging to be released from his pleasurable touch.

My body relaxed, my wet eyes shutting and taking him as he sped up again. I giggled as I whined, “That’s it , baby. Just the way I wanted it. Yessss.”

"Just a little bit more..."

“Yes…just a little more…I’m gonna….” My wet eyes cascaded tears from them, looking up into the mirror as I watched him. “Look at me, look how good you’re making me feel, I…I’ll never think about anyone else…”

He moaned at my words. The way he made me see myself in the mirror, he knew this was exactly what I wanted. His movements became more sloppy, tugging me back and forth in a way he didn’t care, like he hated me. He wanted me to beg for him again.

“I….just…don’t stop. Right there…that’s my spot…you’re hitting it so good…” I whined, my body shivering chaotically.

"Is that a good spot for you, baby?" A cockiness had never left his voice, almost mocking mine. He angled himself as he lowered down, swiveling his hips into me, my hips wining as they followed his motion.

“Y-es,” my voice broke as I spoke back, hiccuping my cries, “I’m falling in love with the way you’re fucking me….” I jumbled out, not even hearing my own words as they came out in moans. He slowly pulled himself out as he then slammed back into me. No noise releases from my mouth as it’s now agape, eyes rolling to the back of my head as if I were possessed.

“Toji…I’m close…” I bit my lip again, fluttering my wet eyes, my body unable to hold itself up.

“Don’t tell me something I already know. Look at that pretty fucking face,” he forces my eyes up to the mirror again, twisting his hand in my hair as he turned my ear to his lips. His voice was like a sinister taunt in my mind, reading how much power he had over me as he continued, “Squirt all over my dick. Paint it like it’s finna’ be yours. It is yours,” he grips my hair tighter, pulling himself out slowly as he moans, “Look at you, baby, creaming my shit. Looks like you want to cum. Might have to give you more than that,” he doesn’t stop. He slams back in, bouncing me back with just one hand as he promises, “Megumi needs a sibling. Might just give you a fucking baby.”

I screamed. I screamed in a way that I never screamed before. My body trembled, the pressure at the bottom of my stomach releasing as I orgasmed. I turned my head towards him as I begged, “Kiss me Daddy, please.”

His breath was heavy as he heard me finally reach my climax, he knew all of this was just the result of him keeping me on the edge and teasing for so long. The sound of me screaming with pleasure filled his ear, that fucking scream of mine, it was something that would haunt my memory for a long long time to come. The way I begged him at the end made his grip loosen on my throat, turning his face over to kiss me.

He moaned against my lips, a kiss more intimate than any time before entering my mouth as I felt a warmth filling inside me, his body never completely stopping as we grind against each other. I whimpered as my body relaxed, accepting the kiss further. Making out with this man in a way that I would’ve kissed my husband. I was fucking crazy. As I opened my eyes, I fully saw myself for the first time. My makeup was all over my face, mascara running down my cheeks as I stared at him. My entire face was completely red. I couldn’t believe who I had become. It was as if he could see all of my thoughts. But instead of being empathetic, he simply brought his hand around my throat as he hovered his face over my neck, dragging his tongue along the skin. I laughed sultrily, breathless in my entire being as all I said was, “You really are fuckin’ evil.”

The sound of Megumi crying also filled my ears with his arrogant chuckle. That reaction told me that from that point on, I was indeed fucked.

“Damn right,” he grunted. 

[totalswag]

unexpected surprise ⎯⎯ chapter one!

authors note first chapter of my series omg!

summary in which you're cautious when Drew Starkey sneaks into your DMs following a casual encounter at a party. he is well-known for his role in a popular tv show and movies—has millions of fans. the two of you start communicating quietly, slipping minutes between his hectic schedule and your social media responsibilities. the secrecy adds to the excitement, but as the media learns about your link, it becomes increasingly difficult to hide.

series taglist

You are well-known in the social media world. You've been given the opportunity to build close relationships with your supporters—to develop a family and be yourself. Features everything from trip vlogs to fashion hauls, insightful conversations, and humorous content. Your work has built up a big following, with which businesses compete to cooperate. However, you value privacy and provide just the most basic information to your supporters.

Eight o'clock rolls around. Stella gets to your apartment dressed and ready for the night. Before heading out, you both walked to the kitchen to get your pre-game drinks made. Music playing from your speaker sitting on the table in the living room⎯keeping the energy high. 

Tonight you are wearing a jeans with a black tank top with a red heart in the middle along with a cute jacket. Hair and makeup was a little different for the night. Of course, you needed your earrings and twi necklaces. You felt good about yourself.

"No joke, I've been rummaging through my closet for a good outfit," you say as you place the cups down. "I'm not sure why I'm having this strange feeling, but," pause, "who knows what it is about," shaking your head.

"Maybe you'll find your future lover?" she exclaimed dramatically, twisting the cap of the tequila bottle. She put the shots into two tiny glasses. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she mocked, offering you a shot.

"How can I refuse" you say, smirking and clinking your glasses together.

Stella has been your best friend for seven years, and you are forever grateful to her. She's the type of friend that would drop everything in a moment to be with you and ensure you have a nice time. Her quirky characteristics will make you giggle until your abs hurt.

The drive to the party took twenty minutes. By the time Stella and you get to the neighborhood gate and are let inside, she has taken a few turns and there are several cars parked on the side. Fortunately, Stella found the right spot near the house.

The house was already alive with energy⎯music blared through the air, and groups of people huddled around in conversation, drinks in hand. Stella and you strolled through the crowd of people, her enthusiasm clear. "There they are!" She waved to a small gathering near the kitchen.

One of the girls in the group, carrying a drink, looked over her shoulder, her face lighting up with a smile as she noticed you both going over. "Oh my gosh, so glad you could make it!" Her voice was full of enthusiasm, “I’m Leah and this is Jake.”

"Nice to meet you both, I'm Y/N, and thank you for inviting us," you say politely, shaking each of their hands in a soft gesture. 

As the night continued on, you and Stella stayed by each other. Got the chance to introduce yourselves to new faces around the party and strike conversations. Saw a few familiar faces you’ve worked with before too. Leah and Jake were extremely amazing, keeping you laughing non-stop with their jokes.

And then he walked in.

Drew Starkey.

You spotted him right away⎯tall, effortlessly calm, and commanding without trying. He was deep in conversation with a few people before making his way to where you stood, drink in hand. You weren’t expecting him to actually walk up to you either. 

Before you could blink, he’s standing in front of you, “hey, I don’t think we’ve ever met before, I’m Drew” putting his hand out, smiling softly.

Drew Starkey is talking to me? You think to yourself.

“Y/N,” you carefully say, maintaining eye contact.

Conversation begins between you two. It felt so usual for you, and you didn't feel nervous at all⎯you felt serene, as you put it. The way he focused his attention on you and not anybody else made your tummy flutter⎯as if you two were the only ones in the room. Drew was easy to talk to.

Something about the way his eyes lingered suggested he was intrigued. The conversation between you two was comfortable and natural—even when people walked around the party, he remained, inquiring about what you did and why you came here.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do?” he carefully asks⎯it was obvious he didn’t want to go overboard.

Chuckling softly, running your hands through your hair, “I guess you could say I’m in the entertainment industry” you playfully hint, grinning. 

Raising his eyebrows in amusement, tilting his head back, “looks like I’m gonna have to find out another time then?” he asks with confidence⎯you like it.

Before he left your side, he pulled out his phone. “What’s your Instagram?”

You told him, watching as he followed you without hesitation. “Guess I have some catching up to do.”

Later that night, when you got back to your apartment, your phone buzzed with a notification. Stella's eyes nearly fell out their sockets when she glanced at your screen.

drewstarkey followed you.

drewstarkey sent you a message.

This was going to be interesting.

"Shut the fuck up" you both gasped.

series taglist

@akobx @ethanthequeefqueen

[valiwrites]

reincarnation ✧.* formula 1

part1 part2 part4

: ̗̀➛ pairing: formula 1 x senna!reincarnation!male!oc (nico santos) : ̗̀➛ warnings: strong language, hate comments : ̗̀➛ author’s note: i wrote this before and got a lot of hate for it. if it’s not your thing, just scroll past—no need to spread negativity. i didn’t write this just to read mean comments.

: ̗̀➛ smau

masterlist

f1fannews ✔︎

liked by 735k users

f1fannews new videos of our favorite driver just dropped!! seriously, this guy is something else. the energy he brings and the pure heart he’s got—it's rare to see someone so genuine and down to earth. feel lucky to be able to watch him grow and do his thing. can't wait to see what’s next for him, he’s just getting started. truly blessed to be a fan of someone like him.

view all 98k comments

user1 this is co cute he's wearing the senna shirt!!

user2 he's literally impersonating him tf

user3 how is he impersonating him what?? y'all are bothered by anything

user2 it's the fact that he hates being compared to senna yet he always makes a way to wear his merch 🙄

user4 the second slide is so adorable tho look at his smile 🥺

user5 he's just so happy to be there

user6 is there any way to buy that shirt he's wearing??

f1fannews yes!! just go on google and search senna shop and you'll find it there

user7 is this gonna be in the new drive to survive season?

f1fannews hopefully we see more of nico next season!

user8 he looks like christian coulson on the second video

user9 wait i kinds see it

user10 it's the angle 😭😭

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by mclaren, lando, valeyellow46, f1, maxverstappen1, mickschumacher and 2.1m others

nicosantos this team makes me wanna commit a felony...i’m out here giving it my all, but the car’s acting like it’s on vacation. like, bro, are we racing or taking a nap? i swear, i’m ready to have a serious chat with it. still, out here doing laps like a champ, pretending i’m not crying inside. send help... and maybe some new tires.

view all 837k comments

lando 😭😭

nicosantos fuck you too

user1 lando NORIZZ help

user2 my boy finally lost it 😭

user3 the caption is sending me

user4 lando nowins

user5 is he starting his beef with mclaren or lando hello

user6 probably both lmao watch ww3 happen

sebastianvettel what got you so mad sweetie

nicosantos you're next vettel

user7 SWEETIE LMAOO IM DYING

user8 OOP, nico's officially in his "i'm done" phase

user9 someone get this man a snack, he’s mad hungry for drama

user10 nico really out here acting like he’s the main character, huh?

user11 yo be bothered by anyone else

user12 nico santos, the personification of “don’t come for me unless I send for you”… but we didn’t send for you.

nicosantos what does that even mean 😭

enews ✔︎

liked by 123k users

enews there are rumors floating around that our mclaren rising star, nico santos, is having some heated convos with mclaren principal andrea stella about possibly leaving the team. but are they true? is our fave driver sticking with mclaren or moving on to another team? which one though? stay tuned, things are getting spicy

view all 54k comments

user1 fr hoping nico stays with mclaren, he’s got mad potential, don’t mess this up!

user2 if he’s all talk and no results, maybe it’s time to go. mclaren doesn’t need the headache

user3 he's literally one of the best drivers out there

user2 i don't see a championship yet

user3 noo nicooo

user4 you'll survive

user5 he’s been putting in the work, mclaren’s the place for him to keep growing

user6 if he can't work with the team then he's not good for it (not hating just pointing out the facts)

user7 as much as i hate to agree with you i do. bc nico is so good at what he does and if he doesn't like it at mclaren he should leave

[zarnzarn]

i see all these comments talking about this after the new episode, but. i would like to state for the record that stolitz isn't. toxic.

first off, the concept of a toxic and a healthy relationship are such... vague terms. when you're online, drenched in language and tight moral boundaries, trying to put a nuanced story like helluva boss's into boxes is easy to attempt and impossible to do.

a toxic relationship is one where one or both parties is maliciously affecting the other. I'm talking fetid, nasty, rude interactions where there is more hurt than love. they're unhappy more often than not when they're with their partner, there's no respect or give from the other side.

stolitz is nothing like that.

Stolas actively cares about Blitz and actually has no fear or hesitation in ADMITTING IT OUT LOUD TO OZZIE. he has been calling, texting, commenting, laughing and finding ways to spend time with Blitz. he's throwing everything he has to the wind, finding the courage to move forward with the divorce, putting everything he has into trying to keep him. he's been alone in a palace since he was born, on medication, with such less people dear to him that he remembered the circus boy who spent a day with him DECADES ago- so when blitz comes into his life and brings back in laughter and color and sex, he's holding on with everything he's got.

and blitz does care!!! he cares a LOT, the whole series we see him falling in love with stolas through SHOW NOT TELL (his expressions, his choices, his fear, his lashing out) and utterly unable to process that stolas cares about him too when talking to fizz; almost a desperate kind of denial-

cause yknow. the first time he tried to confess something to someone he really liked, he accidentally killed half the people he knew and ruined the lives of the rest?

thats gonna leave just a teensy impact on the will to express your emotions in the future, methinks.

even before that, he clearly felt like on some level that he was unworthy and he's said twice that he despises himself for the accident even though it wasn't actually his fault. being self aware doesn't stop the emotions from emotioning.

he keeps insisting its only sex so urgently to anyone who doesn't ask because he can't even imagine it being anything else. he's both disappointed and relieved when he repeats that stolas sees him as a novelty, because what else can it be?

(there's a whole other spiel of how brave both Stolas and Blitz have to be to say it out loud even when asmodeus can't afford to, considering how publically and completely beaten down both were at the club.)

(there's also another whole spiel about how frustrating it has been for ME to see all these comments over time with such bad takes based on like,, 20 min worth of info of a show that takes months to release an ep. like godDAMN have some patience?? let the story UNFOLD MAYBE? IT WAS ALWAYS GOING TO HAVE AN EXPLANATION WHY WOULD YOU CRITICIZE THINGS THAT ARENT EVEN FINISHED ESPECIALLY AN INDIE ANIMATION- i digress)

mind you, this has NOTHING to do with abuse. an abusive relationship is one where one is actively harming the other with full awareness. Stella is an abuser and their marriage is abusive.

and stolitz isn't that; it isn't even unhealthy or toxic. it's a consensual, transactional fuckbuddy relationship that slid into something more for both of them.

but!!!!! one of the main reasons for the problems that everyone looks over is-

they're in a BDSM relationship.

I can't possibly delve into dynamics without making this a 10k research paper BUT even though we've gotten only hints and costumes and dialogue- they're very clearly and undeniably in a BDSM contract. Behind the scenes of this crazy show is a whole different story, of these two delving into the most hardcore kinks out there- knifeplay, painplay, bondage.

if you've gotten into the community, if you've read a couple dozen particularly good fics by authors who know what they're talking about, hell; even if your only experience is fifty shades or 365 or whatever- you gotta know that BDSM scenes are crazy fucking emotionally heavy. there's so much that has gone down between them during their full moons that helluva can't get into!!

but you know how in so many of these popular medias and fics, the dom in the relationship is also like,, the billionaire/mafia heir/prince, etc, the one with financial and physical power? this isnt that. it has been very clearly stated that stolas is subbing, blitz is domming.

now take a moment and think about how much that fucks up the dynamics.

in stolas' eyes, blitz is a confident, dangerous individual who's an old friend and cherished memory of his, who he's trusted wholly with his safety during sex and he's lucky to have; and he has been in an abusive arranged marriage for the past eighteen Years, he's probably not going to be pushing his luck with his dom that much in the first place. plus, blitz is never cowed by him during their conversations- think back to the first phone call right after he stole the book, completely unafraid.

and for blitz, it's someone trusting him again- but it's also a royal- a blue blood who's nearly untouchable and so much more powerful- who couldn't possibly like a piece of shit like him, apart from the sex he gets out of it. he only flirts once he gets some sort of cue from Stolas; he's desperately trying to view this as only a Goetia trying to get his rocks off, despite all the evidence to the contrary, because anything else is unfathomable to him, no matter how clearly Stolas shows it, because of the ptsd.

both of them thinks the other has the power. both of them aren't expecting the other to keep shut if something's bothering them.

and there's so much conflicting messages from the other too!

stolas calls him a plaything when trying to intimidate the humans; stolas cups his face gently and asks if he's alright

blitz asks him on a date and tells him to get better soon; blitz yells that it's only sex and doesn't reply to his messages

ya see?

bring it to fizzozzie for a second now; even though they do look all good on surface, you can still see fizz's trauma and doubt in all their interactions, they're still forced to keep the relationship secret. do you see his face when Ozzie says in hyperbole that he's never leaving the house again, or when someone accuses him of being a pampered house pet or when he got sexualized in the 7th ep? whatever happened in the interim between the accident with mammon, it fucked him UP. even though oz seems to be well aware of this when he tells him not to apologise and in their general interactions, fizz still visibly has trouble separating plaything/commodity from healthy relationship.

shout the fuck out to Ozzie btw, man knows whats UP. rooting for these two so much omg.

i forgot where I was going with this point, I'll edit it when i remember. but yeah! lovely fucking relationship, but damn what angst filled issues.

anyway, to sum up- stolitz is not a toxic relationship. the relationship is stuck sludging through misunderstandings and careless microaggressions and trauma responses, but it's not unhealthy or toxic because of the simple reason that most of the current hurt comes from... a misunderstanding. stolas didn't realise blitz would need reassurance about what they were and blitz didn't see stolas as someone who could get hurt.

unecessarily calling it toxic, even online, is more impactful than people think too. almost all spindlehorse ARE on all social medias; so MANY YouTube animators i know have found jobs there; they see your words, especially since a lot don't tag posts with "anti hb" correctly to keep them out of the main tag. there are Very few queer medias made BY queer people that haven't gone through heavy corporate revisions- helluva boss is practically a historical landmark in its success. it's very very very fucking easy to forget that not ten years ago some of the only queer videos on YouTube were butter lover (one kiss at the end post credits), dirty paws and welcome to hell (subtext).

the amount of "critical talk" helluva boss gets for what it is is very unprecedented. it's a beautiful show. can't wait for the next episode.

[prxnce]

Welcome to The Love Letter Save File V.3

Where timelines combined from previously loved (or overlooked) sims installments…

DOWNLOAD (info below)

From: Prxnce xoxo

What is it?

In this timeline there is room for every simmer… Drama based simmers will love to lock in with the Caliente sisters, whose parents are hopeful of adding GRAND before the parent soon, or maybe going over to Britechester and seeing how much of a strain Gabe O’Mackeys fling with Patricia Wan has caused on his relationship with his daughter, Jules. Legacy players can find comfort in continuing the family line with the Monty boys.. Or just any Monty that is… Actually! Go across the street to their rivals, the Capp family! Yeah those teens will happily carry on the family name for generations to come! Occult players, I could never forget about you! Dive deep into the Windernburg School for the Young and Gifted!.. Teen occults aren’t for you? Head over to Strangerville and see how a coven of vampires do in the desert sun with the Constantine Coven! All players… with no discernable style of playing but a love for the sims have something to enjoy here. Go out on a date in downtown Willow Creek or get married in a drive-thru wedding chapel and see a flick after the ceremony in Newcrest! In my Love Letter, you will find nods to shows like The Vampire Diaries, H2O: Just Add Water, Game Of Thrones, and more! You will see familiar faces from Sims 1 - Now! Blending the personalities of Nancy Landgraab from all of her previous portrayals into one, where she can exist at her Adult age at the same time as Stella and Richie Striker exist entering their grand-parenthood. When The Sims 4 released, the gurus decided that it existed in an alternate timeline from previous games… this save does not restore the old timeline.. It crashes into it! Sims who were passing of old age in Sunset Valley as someone on Lunar Lakes was marrying someone who was being born in Pleasantview! Familiar names like Beaker, Wolff, Wan, Frio, Martinez, Loner, Smith, AND MORE lie within this file.

Also as a longtime simmer… there are faces and stories you haven’t seen, my own original tales and sims. Dabble with the tragic life of Maria Perez in Oasis Springs, or her pink-obsessed sister in Del Soy Valley. I hid plenty of easter eggs from various forms of media in this save too. This save is for the lore lovers and casual players who might be bored of the same starter homes and venues.

Why V3?

New packs! New builds! New faces (but also technically old faces)! As time moves on there are old builds or faces I know I could do better on and ideas that I want to explore.

This is the most COMPLETE version of my save to have existed but it is not the end… enjoy ;)

Required?

Every DLC up to 5/23/25

I also want to give a special thanks to LifeSimmer, who permitted me to use the Fenderson family in this save. I have been playing the sims since I was 9 years old and all these years later that family is just as special to my inner child as the Goth family.

Warning! This is a BIG save! In order to combat bloating, I recommend monitoring and controlling auto spawned NPCs in managed households often. If you don’t, the game may make surrounding lots appear as EA defaults, I’ve done my own testing and due diligence THIS IS NOT CORRUPTION! It’s simply a mechanical issue within the game from having such a large save to keep track of.

[hismercytomyjustice]

Ngl I really enjoyed Via’s arc in Sinsmas. She is just SO MUCH like her father that it both delights and hurts me lol.

Their relationship is an interesting take on struggling to try to break the cycle of abuse/neglect.

Stolas grew up with his father not even knowing his name or showing him a shred of affection. He was a means to an end, a tool. The only way he’s ever received any kind of acknowledgement from his father is by doing his duty. Mastering his powers, entering into an arranged marriage, and producing an heir.

You can just so clearly see how he is trying SO HARD to give Via a different life. He wants them to be a family. For her to never doubt her parents love her. To be the father he never had.

To the point he shoves his own wants and needs so far down that he is barely holding on.

Via going from accusing him of not loving her to realizing that he loves her so much that he forced himself to play the role of a good father and husband. To the point he destroyed himself for her…

And that realization just devastates her.

Stolas getting involved with Blitz was the culmination of decades of forcing himself to be the person everyone else expected him to be. He feels he can’t be loved, but he can be useful. And maybe if he’s useful enough, people will care about him.

The reason his connection with Blitz is so strong is because both of them feel that way. The difference is that Blitz was able to create his own found family (tho it took him ages to realize it lol) while Stolas has always been alone. They’re two sides of the same coin. And while Blitz has spent the past few years healing, Stolas has been descending further into darkness because he doesn’t have that same support.

Via has absorbed so many of his insecurities. Especially the fear of not being loved or wanted despite Stolas trying SO HARD to be the perfect father to her. But he’s not. He can never be because he forgot the old adage of “put your oxygen mask on first before helping anyone else.”

I think that definitely can come across as him being neglectful of her. But to me it speaks to his desperation to be such a good father to her that he tries to hold himself to IMPOSSIBLE standards.

He doesn’t fail Via because he doesn’t care. He fails her because he keeps setting up these unrealistic expectations for their relationship. He massively overextends himself and puts his own wants and desires on the back burner so often that his life is imploding around him out of his control.

He doesn’t miss the stars with her because he doesn’t care. He misses them because he’s struggling to put his life back together after finally taking some initiative for himself. He’s trying to deal with the fallout of wanting a divorce from Stella, but he’s waited so long and he’s so overwhelmed by it all that the date slips his mind. And the instant he realizes what’s happened, he drops everything and goes looking for her.

Via keeps watching him make these promises he struggles with or fails to keep and doesn’t realize until she finds all of the happy pills how much he’s overextended himself for her sake. And because she’s her father’s daughter, she immediately thinks she’s at fault. She thinks he would be happier if he hadn’t forced himself to play house all these years for her sake.

She’s not wrong. If he’d separated from Stella years before, they’d probably all be better off. But he didn’t because of his sense of duty. Stolas’s problem is that he never advocates for himself until he reaches his literal breaking point. By then, the damage is more of a tsunami than a ripple because now his meticulously crafted house of cards is falling down around him faster than he can pick up the pieces.

Via is right that he would have been happier, but not for the reasons she thinks. He did it because he loved her, not out of obligation for her. And also because he is deeply broken and flawed.

Via’s dealing with a lot of complicated emotions too. Her father was willing to sacrifice himself for his affair partner, which she initially believes means he’s picking Blitz over her. But really it’s just Stolas trying to save the only other person in his life who understands him and who maybe cares about him.

How could he live with himself if he let Blitz die?

And it’s not like Stolas has time to sit down and think of a rational plan. He rushes to the trial because Blitz is literally about to be decapitated. And then he saves him the only way he knows how. I think part of him was also convinced that, as much as he loves Via, she might actually be better off without him because he is a wreck. He’s convinced he’s ruined his life and the lives of everyone around him.

I think this is why he doesn’t fight Stella much for custody of Via. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he genuinely thinks Stella is a more stable parent than he is and that Via will be better off with her as a result. The man also lacks a backbone too tho because his self worth is -9000.

But then Stolas doesn’t get executed. And the consequences of his actions hit him like a ton of bricks once the adrenaline and panic wears off. He saved Blitz, but at what cost? And, based on his statement in Sinsmas, it sounds like he would’ve done it all over again if given the chance. Because he’s the one who let Blitz use his grimoire even though he knew it was wrong. Because Blitz was in danger of dying because of him. And because he has a very strong sense of morality and justice too.

Dying in Blitzo’s place was a spur of the moment decision and once the dust cleared, Stolas realized how everything he’s tried to do to keep his shit together has fallen apart at the seams and now everyone knows it.

All Via can see when she looks at him now is that he’s hit rock bottom because of her. Again, not true. But Stolas has tried so hard to give her this idyllic family life, thinking that was the best thing he could do for her. Not realizing that she could see the cracks forming. She just didn’t understand why there were cracks until now.

I don’t think Via actually hates him. I think she hates herself. Convinced she’s the reason he’s hit rock bottom. Why couldn’t she see how much he was suffering? Why would he suffer so much for her? So she’s taking herself out of the equation, just like he tried to with Blitz. If she’s not in his life anymore, maybe he’ll stop killing himself to try to make her happy. Maybe he’ll stop being so miserable.

I think a big part of their arc together has been her going from thinking of Stolas as this perfect and larger than life figure to seeing him start to crumble and now getting a peek behind the curtain and realizing how much of that wasn’t real. And it scares and upsets her that her dad isn’t the perfect person he’s tried to be for her. He’s broken and hurting and she doesn’t know what to do to help because he’s spent her whole life focusing on her.

Not to say that he’s done that well. He genuinely hasn’t. He’s overcorrected so hard that he’s fucked her up in a completely different way because he’s overextended himself. He pushed himself until the illusion of a perfect happy family cracked along with him. He’s also made it difficult for her to know how to help him because he’s sheltered her so much.

I think this sometimes makes Stolas come across as selfish. He seemingly “ruined” his marriage and his relationship with his daughter for Blitz. But really it was just the pendulum swinging wildly in the opposite direction. He was so starved for happiness and connection that now he’s trying to live two separate lives and it’s just not possible and he’s falling apart even faster.

Stolas was so desperate for affection and to be of use that he lets Blitz have his grimoire, under the impression Blitz is attracted to him because Blitz literally tried to seduce him to get it. He also does all of the dirty talk because he thinks Blitz likes it.

I think he initially sets the terms for the grimoire usage because he thinks it’s a price Blitz is more than willing to pay because he showed up trying to seduce him. I think he l also just really wants an excuse to see/spend time with Blitz too. It doesn’t even cross his mind that Blitz might want anything other than sex from him. He’s once again playing a role based on what he thinks is expected of him.

It’s not until Stolas discovers he’s starting to develop feelings for Blitz that he realizes their arrangement is wrong. And the moment he realizes it, he immediately tries to make amends. He hopes Blitz will admit he has feelings for him too, but is willing to step away if not. But he also cares about him so much, he makes sure to give him the Asmodean Crystal so he can freely make the choice.

Meanwhile he has no idea Blitz will just view this as another person trying to abandon him or look down on him. Because Blitz struggles with self worth too and believes the only way people will care about him is if he can be useful. Blitz has a deep seated fear of abandonment while Stolas fears no one could ever love him just for himself. He offers Blitz the crystal to let him know his feelings are genuine and to gauge Blitz’s too.

All of this is to say that I think Via and Stolas will reconcile, hopefully sooner rather than later. I think Via needs some time to process who her father actually is vs who she thought he was. And both of them need to be able to forgive themselves/grant themselves some grace so they can finally meet each other in the middle like Stolas has finally managed with Blitz. Stolas needs to accept Via is grown up now and he can’t shield her from the negatives of the world forever. Meanwhile Via needs to understand everything doesn’t have to be so black and white.

[spr1ngpvrinbwunnie]

🐣 Happy Easter at Playtime Co. Headcanon — Featuring Harley Sawyer (and his reluctant descent into madness)

Note: Sorry for not posting any content about PPT Harley x reader, so here's a make-up post for y'all…Now I'm going back to my hole.

You wanted to organize an Easter event for the orphans raised in the company’s care. You wanted color, joy, light—a break from sterile hallways and somber routines. You wanted Harley to be involved. He wanted nothing to do with it. You won.

🌸 Context

You, of course, bring it up during a meeting, with that look in your eyes that always means something big.

Stella’s ecstatic. Eddie says something like “Let’s make it the best Easter they’ve ever had!”

Leith suggests egg-hunting mazes and “bunny-themed hazard corridors” (he’s joking... mostly).

Harley just... slowly turns to look at you.

"Absolutely not."

"Do you understand the risk of exposing them to that much unregulated glitter?"

"And who approved this– oh. You did."

🐰 Preparations Begin

You:

Designing pastel-colored banners.

Assigning rooms for Easter egg painting, storytime, and "bunny cookie science."

Sneaking chocolate eggs into everyone's lockers, including Harley's.

Stella:

Goes full Spring Fairy Mode™.

She wears bunny ears unironically.

She starts calling it “The Spring Festival of Renewal.”

She insists the orphans do a flower-crown making session.

Leith:

Designs a massive egg-hunt route inside the facility.

Is too excited about hiding eggs in "high-risk, low-visibility areas.”

(Harley is Not Amused.)

"That’s an OSHA violation waiting to happen, Pierre."

"You don’t even know OSHA."

Eddie:

Brings in speakers.

Plays disco-remix Easter songs.

Bakes cookies that are absolutely loaded with sugar and then passes them around to the kids.

🥚 Harley’s Reluctant Involvement

You put him in charge of the Egg Dyeing Station.

He wears gloves, a lab coat, a grimace, and the smallest pink bunny sticker you managed to sneak onto his sleeve.

He says things like:

“Do not consume the dye.”

“That’s not how color theory works—give me that—”

“…Fine. Add glitter if you must. Just don’t get it on the—”

One of the orphans hands him a hand-painted egg.

It says “Doctor Hoppy.”

He stares at it in silence.

He doesn’t speak for the next five minutes.

He keeps the egg. You notice it later on his desk.

💖 The Moment

As the event goes on, Harley’s resistance slowly cracks.

He watches you helping a child tie their bunny ears.

He sees Stella lifting a kid onto her shoulders to help them reach an egg hidden on a pipe.

He sees you smile at him from across the hall—just a little messy, a little tired, but glowing.

The moment he lets out a sigh and adjusts a child’s poorly fastened bowtie, you know he’s doomed.

“If you must frolic… do it safely.”

💐 Later That Night

You find him alone in the lab, looking over an Easter egg one of the children handed him that has both of your initials drawn (poorly) in crayon.

He doesn’t say anything as you approach, but when you lean against the counter next to him, he murmurs:

“You’ve turned this place into chaos.”

“They laughed. They smiled. Even Eddie stopped breaking things long enough to be useful.”

“…Maybe it wasn’t the worst use of company time.”

He hands you a small, carefully-wrapped chocolate bunny. The tag says your name.

“Scientific curiosity.”

“…I wanted to see if you’d smile.”

🎁 Bonus: The Aftermath

Harley still finds glitter in his lab weeks later.

Someone (probably Leith) taped a picture of him mid-egg-painting to the bulletin board.

The orphans start calling him “Dr. Hoppy” unironically.

He never corrects them.

🌙 Post-Easter Soft Moment — You and Harley, After the Chaos

The facility had gone quiet. The streamers had been taken down, the confetti vacuumed, the cookies either devoured or confiscated, and the orphans were sound asleep in the guest dormitories, sugar crashing like little meteorites. Even Leith was finally gone, after a three-minute chase around the cafeteria involving a water gun and a rogue bunny puppet.

But Harley?

You found him in the East Observation Lab, where the glass windows looked out over the city like a crystal dome. The lights were off, save for the blinking panels on the monitors, casting a cold blue light on everything. His lab coat was still rumpled from the day’s chaos, and there was a faint smudge of pink dye near the collar he hadn’t noticed.

He didn’t turn when you came in—just spoke quietly:

“You survived.”

You smiled faintly.

“Barely. One of the kids tied my shoelaces together and said it was a ‘trap for the egg bandit’.”

“Hnh.” A dry sound. Possibly a laugh.

You joined him at the counter, where he was examining something with a level of intensity usually reserved for corrupted data or misbehaving prototypes.

It was the egg.

The one with your initials and his, scribbled by a child with too much crayon and too much hope. It was lumpy, imperfect, and cracked slightly down one side. He’d placed it on a weighted display tray, as if it were some rare relic.

“You kept it.”

He didn’t look at you.

“It was structurally interesting.” “The layering of paint was inefficient, yet…” He trailed off, brow furrowing. “…charming.”

You looked at him from the side—how the light caught the edge of his jaw, the curve of his mouth held just a little tighter than necessary. You could still see the remnants of stress under his eyes, but they were softer now. Warmer.

You nudged his elbow.

“You did good today, Doctor Hoppy.”

“Say that again and I’ll cancel Christmas.”

“Not even a little hop?”

He finally turned to look at you, and the expression he wore was… unreadable at first. Then it softened further—an almost bewildered fondness, like he couldn’t quite understand how you’d gotten under his skin and rearranged the wires without him noticing.

“Why do you care so much?” he asked, barely above a whisper. “About these… things. Events. People.”

“Because someone has to,” you replied simply. “Because I believe in joy. Even here.”

His gaze lingered.

Then, carefully—as if afraid the moment might break��he reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a small foil-wrapped shape. A second chocolate bunny.

But this one… wasn’t from the event. The wrapper was matte black and gold. It looked expensive.

He placed it in your hand without a word.

“Happy Easter,” he said after a long pause. “…I acquired this prior. In case you… didn't like the corporate treats.”

Your fingers brushed his as you took it.

“You’re spoiling me, Doctor Sawyer.”

“I haven’t even started.”

It slipped out so quietly that it almost didn’t feel real—but it was. His voice held no mockery, no defense. Just a subtle admission, wrapped in his usual clinical delivery.

You smiled.

And for once, he didn’t look away.

[denwritesandcries]

Later you'll laugh about this – H.C

Pairing: loser!hazel x fem!reader

Summary: Later you would say that you only got into this stupid situation because of a cotton candy. PJ and a cotton candy. A goddamn cotton candy you bought for Hazel Callahan.

Word count: 4,3k.

Content: cursing, fake dating, pining, kinda angst, insecure!loser!hazel, toxic situationships, dialogues. lots of dialogues, reader having a beef with pj, idiots in love.

Note: This fic is supposed to have 3 chapters, I didn’t mean it to be so long but I couldn't stop adding new things to the story and now it's a series cause it got out of control. So basically, Hazel is a loser and the reader is a loser for her. That's it. That's the plot.

English is not my first language.

>>

Coming across Hazel's sad face pressed against the precariously clean table you always sat at in the cafeteria, with her puppy eyes seeming to wander forlornly every damn day was becoming really depressing.

“I… I simply don’t understand.” Hazel starts and you let out a tired sigh when you turn your head to follow her gaze and find PJ gesturing to Josie in the lunch line, because of course she would be talking about this. Again. “It’s been weeks since the game and she just acts like nothing happened between us.”

Stella-Rebecca squeezes her shoulder in solidarity and you all exchange a knowing look without her noticing. None of this is really new, but it's getting more and more painful to watch now.

“I thought she liked me too, but lately she’s just acting like…”

You sip your juice audibly, absentmindedly nibbling on the straw in the box: “A bitch?”

Hazel gasps in alarm, “I wasn’t going to say that!”

You notice Sylvie stifle an incredulous laugh next to her as Isabel scolds you with a slap on the shoulder.

“Ouch! 'M sorry, Haze, but we've talked about this before.” You say gently, brushing aside a strand of dark hair that has fallen on her face. “PJ is a bitch. She's a bitch to everyone who's not Josie and especially to you, it's always been like this. You can do better.”

“Like who?” she whines and you huff.

Maybe it might seem a little rude the way you're talking now, but Hazel is your best friend and you've been having this conversation for months, even before the fight club, and it seemed impossible to give her any advice and talk some sense into her head. After the game with the big fight against Huntington and your group of friends grew, things only got worse, because now there are finally more people to hear about her longtime passion.

It turns out that there is no one to listen to you about your long-time passion for her.

It's ridiculous, sitting here next to your best friend, listening to her talk about another girl. The girl she likes.

Still, all you really take into consideration is the way her eyes shine against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, the way her hair falls in thick, unruly locks across her face, the way she rolls up her sleeve of the colorful jacket wrapped nervously around her wrist and the dreamy, yearning tone of voice with which she speaks so desperately about what ails her.

Isabel turns her attention to Hazel, looking almost apologetic: “Y/N is right. You have a crush on her since, what, third grade? And she’s being a bitch with you even after you guys made out in front of, like, the entire town.”

Annie leaned on her elbows to join in the conversation, holding a half-bitten apple in her hand indignantly: “She’s literally acting like a straight guy!”

Everyone at the table looked at her at that.

“What? It's true! She’s giving all those confusing signs: sticking her tongue on your throat after barely apologizing for calling your mom a whore, being nice with you for a while and then getting right back to her bitch act without giving you a word about it.” Annie rolled her eyes, “Aren’t gay people supposed to be more mature than that or whatever?”

Hazel shrank even more in place: “Guys, please.”

“Girl, what are you even talking about—”

“You could, you know…” You rest your chin on your palm, “Ask her what you guys are.”

Hazel seemed to suffer in anticipation just imagining this, “I don't want her to move further away and stop being my friend by insinuating anything. I just wanted her to be nicer.”

You shrug, looking away from her tiredly to unwrap your grilled cheese, “Then I’m afraid everything will stay exactly as it is, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, way to show some self-respect, Haze.” Annie added sarcastically.

Hazel dropped her weight back against the table, putting her face in her hands dramatically and you silenced everyone when you saw Josie and PJ coming towards the table, pulling Hazel a little closer and putting your arm around her back to push her away when PJ sat on the other side of her.

You change the subject quickly and you choose to ignore the look Isabel and Brittany exchange as Hazel gratefully leans into your touch.

“Why are you whining like that?” PJ asks, looking disdainfully at the scene. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

You thought you could get through the rest of the day, or at least your lunch, without any more arguments, but that unfortunately doesn't seem to be the case.

“Leave her alone, PJ.”

Hazel sighed, finally sitting up straight to cast a disgusted expression at the tray in front of her.

“I would,” she said, “but now my fries are all cold and limp and the texture gives me shivers.”

Already feeling another nasty comment coming, you decide to interrupt quickly, shrugging: “I’ll trade you for my grilled cheese.”

Hazel immediately brightens: “Really?”

You can't regret your impulsive decision when she looks so cute like this, pushing the package towards her and giving a little smirk in response to PJ's annoyed look.

“Yep,” you highlight the P at the end of the word, “I'm sure.”

Mind you, it's not that you hate the girl exactly. It's just that you hate the way she treats your best friend, which makes you not like being around her most of the time.

And maybe – just maybe – you're a little bitter, because you make a point of giving her a smug look from across the table to the sound of Hazel's excited exclamation of 'you're the best!'.

Your lunch goes without a hitch other than your sad fries and Isabel's eyes burning holes in your head and you're happy to remain quiet and listen to your friends talk for the rest of the time.

Isabel still looks thoughtful when the bell rings and everyone starts to leave for their respective classes. Luckily, the two of you shared the next period, so you could just go ahead and ask her if she had anything to say.

…Which ended up not being necessary, as Isabel pulled you aside with Hazel as soon as she said goodbye to Josie while you looked at each other in confusion as you were suddenly practically dragged through the hallways under Hazel's protests because that was definitely not the way for her to go to class – and your own too because, damn, the cheerleader had a surprisingly strong grip on your arm.

“Isabel, what the hell are you doing?” You ask, perplexed and worried, narrowly avoiding bumping into a random kid carrying a stack of books.

“You know, Hazel, about your problem,” she blatantly ignores you, “if you want PJ to actually choose to be with you and ask you out for real, you could, like, just make her jealous.”

You don’t know why you’re hearing that, “What?”

Isabel shrugged, “It worked for me and Josie, and we know they think kinda alike.”

Hazel stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway, interested: “I’m listening.”

“Oh man.” You groaned.

Your head is hurting just at the concept of such an absurd idea, with the three of you standing in the empty hallway, talking about some crazy plan.

“Josie only made a real move on me when she saw me getting back with Jeff,” Isabel grimace in disgust as she recalled, “She got all tearful and jealous when the group broke up and I started ignoring her. That made her act.”

Hazel seemed to drink in every word of what she said, nodding her head at the reasoning as Isabel explained it as if it were the most logical thing possible.

You leaned your head against a locker behind you, crossing your arms around your body defensively. If Isabel brought you along for the conversation, it's because you're definitely part of what she's planning.

“And you didn’t bring this up when we were all arguing about it because…?” You asked.

“I would have said something sooner, but you two were so busy having a moment that I didn't want to interrupt.”

You gave the finger to the sound of Isabel's laughter and Hazel dismissed what she said with a gesture, even though you noticed how red her face turned.

“This is so stupid.”

“It’s brilliant!” Hazel grabbed your shoulder, shaking it excitedly, “It might actually work! What do you have in mind?"

Isabel shrugged, “You just have to, like, get someone to make out sometimes and show it to her face.”

“Like…?” Hazel asked, not understanding what she was getting at.

But you did.

“Like her,” she pointed at you.

“Oh.”

Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

“Oh, but no freaking way!” you exclaimed, face burning with embarrassment, “Don’t bring me into this. It’s not my problem!”

“But didn’t you want to help her?” Isabel asked, sounding too innocent and you realized that this was what she had been planning from the beginning.

“Yeah, with advice!”

This is stupid. This is really so stupid. You should have been in class for a good few minutes now, paying attention to anything on the board and counting down the remaining hours so you could put it all away and leave, because it was Friday, there were no club meetings to be at and it was your movie night with Hazel. That shouldn't change.

“No, she’s right.” Hazel walked in between you, shaking her head in denial: “It’s not happening. I thought about, like, flirting with someone in front of her, maybe making up a date or something.”

“PJ’s not gonna buy this. You, suddenly showing up with someone new? Very desperately obvious.” Isabel pointed out, “Besides, just flirting with someone probably won’t hold her attention long enough.”

She was right. Isabel was painfully right and you knew it. You two, by the way Hazel's expression changed. By the way she seemed to be seriously considering it.

“But I,” she stammered, “I can’t just ask someone to do that for me and use them like that.”

You took a deep breath, “Thank you!”

Isabel cast one last glance between you, before finally raising her hands in yield, “Well, it was only a suggestion. It's just that you guys already act like a couple anyway so I thought it would make more sense.”

She turns and resumes her walk down the now completely empty hallway – only now do you wonder where the hell the monitors were –, leaving you and Hazel standing there like idiots with distraught expressions, before shouting over her shoulder:

“At least it would be more convincing!”

Your movie night starts late and turns into a sleepover because you all got detention for being so late to your periods and now it's too late to be worth going home anyway, so you stay.

In all the years you've known each other, you've slept at Hazel's house more times than you can count as much as she has at yours, you know this huge place inside out. It's like your own home too. There's nothing weird about curling up in her ridiculously large bed, wearing an old sweatshirt you left there and a pair of sleep shorts she lent you, pulling the covers up so they wrap around you perfectly, and getting as close as possible with her laptop between you, playing some animation on it. Is not strange. It's familiar, it's recurring.

Except it isn't.

There's a tension, a slightly awkward silence that has hung between you since you left school and were alone for the first time since that conversation, that damn conversation, that leaves you nervous and upset with the expectation that something horrible is about to happen and change everything between you. Because Hazel seemed too quiet and thoughtful for someone who wouldn't do anything.

God, you don't like this, this stillness and how it affects you. You don't like how you can't help but notice the way her shoulder presses against yours every time she takes a slow, deep breath, how warm and soft her arm feels where it touches your skin, and how comforting is the weight of her chin resting on your shoulder. You hate it even more to see the soft features of her face illuminated by the blue light of the screen, making you squirm nervously because Hazel is all you can focus on.

And the thing you hate most, without a doubt, is the fact that she must not have noticed any of these things, nor your behavior in general. There's no reason to do it, nothing should be strange to her. Because she doesn't like you that way.

You don't pay attention to a single minute of the movie until it's over and Hazel is moving to turn off her laptop, snapping you out of that trance you've put yourself in without realizing it. She gives you a smile and stretches her arms above her head, tired.

The two of you exchange a few words as you get ready for bed, getting around the elephant in the room, and then you're in bed again, this time without any lights, Hazel staring at the star-decorated ceiling and you with your back turned to her, fidgeting for what feels like the thousandth time and trying your best not to make things even more awkward. Anyway, you can't sleep, even with the tiredness of the day and you know she can't either.

“Hey,” Hazel calls out to you in the darkness, her sleepy voice suddenly startling you. “It was, uhm, really crazy what Isabel suggested, right?”

“Yeah,” You replied hesitantly, turning to her to see what she was getting at: “But you can’t stop thinking about it.”

She hums in agreement to her statement and turns to you as well, keeping her eyes on the sheet.

“It’s just that it seemed too good to pass up the opportunity, you know?” Hazel's hand traces meaningless patterns on the fabric, “As if in those fanfics and books where these things happen, the couple always ends up together and, I don't know, I guess I just felt like I was finally going to give a step and do something about it.”

The way she looks so upset and frustrated breaks your heart and you resist the urge to move even closer and take her hands in yours, seeing Hazel sad feels terribly wrong no matter how many times. You want to help solve her problem. You wish the problem didn't even exist in the first place, but man.

It would be so, so much easier to just be a good friend and support her if you didn't have these stupid feelings bottled up in your chest. Make crazy plans, smile and wave and encourage her to chase the person she wants. It would be enough.

“Things will work out, Haze.” You say it instead, because saying whatever is going on in your head right now might just make everything worse.

“You're right,” she turned around again, gesturing with her hands nervously: “I probably wouldn't even be that good of a girlfriend anyway. I wouldn't know how to plan dates or give gifts, or act all cool and smooth when I'm with her. What if I'm too embarrassing? What if she found me too annoying and ended up breaking up with me?! I think that would be worse. Being romantic seems so hard.”

“I think it should be something unconscious if it’s with someone you really love,” you shrugged, playing with a loose thread on your clothes, “But, no, you’re not like that. I mean, I think you'd be more of the kind of girlfriend who makes thousands of kind gestures to show that she cares without even noticing it, like, writing notes, opening doors, bringing flowers or something. At least I’d like to get flowers, I don’t know.”

Hazel turned her head to you, meeting your gaze hesitantly, with eyes so bright and hopeful that your heart swelled so much it could pop out of your chest at any second.

"You really think so?"

"Yes." You sigh, “Yes, I’m sure.”

The weekend had been relatively peaceful, with you having returned home by the morning after a very bad night of sleep that you spent mainly staring at the ceiling with Hazel sleeping next to you, the rest of the day passed in a blur and now it was Sunday night.

Sunday night and you and your friends were all gathered at the city fair, some event organized purely because there weren't many other ways to entertain yourself living in a small place like that, but there was a lot of junk food and stupid games to spend your money on, so of course everyone always went to it.

Everyone except Hazel, apparently, since she's late and you and your friends are all gathered together, waiting for her. Oh, and there's a cotton candy almost melting in your hand from where you're leaning against Brittany's fancy car.

Later you would say that you only got into this stupid situation because of a cotton candy; PJ and a cotton candy. A goddamn cotton candy you bought for Hazel Callahan.

“Hi, lads!” And there it is the source of your teenage angst.

One look and you know there's something wrong with Hazel. You haven't seen her since that night, but she seems a little distraught, panting and with her hands resting on her knees from running up to you.

“Finally!” Sylvie exclaims, fixing the beanie over her head, “The fair started already, I want to go before they take all the good prizes from the game stalls.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you guys here,” she waves awkwardly and the group dismisses without further comment, you all heading towards the colorful event.

You walk beside her, noticing how nervous and distracted she looks, eyes focused on the floor and hands twirling the rings between her fingers. She doesn't seem to have noticed your presence.

“You're late.” You say, without the expected bite because you're honestly more worried than angry right now.

She squeaks in fright, making some of your friends look over the shoulders to check on you. She recovers quickly, however:

“No, I'm Haze.”

You let out a nasal laugh at the completely adorable, stupid, and alarmed expression on her face. Of course she would answer something like that.

“Here,” you hold out the candy toward her, trying your best to appear indifferent. “I got you one before the line got too long.”

Her jaw dropped a little before breaking out into a shiny smile: “Oh, you've got my favorite!”

You shrug, “Just don’t let anyone throw it away this time.”

“I won’t.” Hazel swears.

She seems to be strangely close to you as you walk together, shoulders side by side, your hand would probably brush hers if it weren't properly hidden in your pockets and Hazel still has that nervous look of someone who has something to say.

You turn your head to her when your friends decide to stop on a stand, frowning and placing a hand on her arm gently.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” You ask and she gulps.

“Yes, uhm,” she clears her throat, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, “It’s just that I really wanted to ask you a favor.”

For a moment you don't even think twice about it, leaning back on her playfully.

"A favor? You know I don't do anything for free Haze,” you smirk, patting her on the shoulder, “Win me a stuffed animal or a goldfish and maybe I'll consider it.”

She doesn't smile and respond wittily like you expect, instead she looks even more shy, shrugging her shoulders as if she wants to disappear and folding her hands comically with the cotton candy behind her back.

“Look, I know we’ve already talked about this, but please.”

Oh, so it's about that then. Seriously.

“Haze,” you sigh.

“Please,” she repeats, “I just need you to—”

And that's when things derail out of your control.

“Guys,” Josie waves, pointing to the others, “let's go before Sylvie picks a fight with the stand dude.”

You hadn't even realized how long you spent standing around talking, but now PJ is staring at you, looking somehow uncomfortable.

“Are you done flirting there? We have more things to do, you know.” She points indifferently.

Hazel looks pleased for a moment, a determined look covering her face, which makes you suddenly nervous. A determined Hazel is an impulsive Hazel.

You clear your throat, “We weren’t.”

PJ rolls her eyes at your response and then she approaches, with Josie watching the exchange hesitantly before taking a step back and resigning herself to returning to her girlfriend, lucky girl.

PJ is too close, in a way that makes that bitter, unfair feeling come back to you, she reaches out to grab Hazel's cotton candy, just like she did at the last fair you all went to.

Except this time Hazel stops her from doing it.

“Hey, don’t.” She takes the candy out of her reach easily, looking upset, “Y/N gave it to me.”

"So what?" PJ protests angrily, “You act like she's your girlfriend or something.”

Oh god.

Hazel looks deep into PJ's eyes for a moment and whatever she was looking for in her expression, she seems to find exactly what she wanted.

“That—”

Oh my fucking god, this was exactly the opportunity Hazel had been waiting for. The opportunity to make an impulsive decision that may or not ruin your friendship.

“—Is because she is.”

You look at her in alarm, grabbing her free hand and squeezing in warning, which perhaps wasn't a smart choice of action for what you wanted to avoid.

“What?” PJ flicks her gaze between you and your hands repeatedly, as if she didn’t expect such a turn of events, “What?”

Hazel lifts her chin and pulls you closer, as if challenging her indignation, but you see the exact moment her breath hitches as you open your mouth to question all of this, her eyes meet yours, nervous and pleading, begging you to just play along.

And then, because that girl in front of you is annoying as fuck, because your best friend is convincing you with her sad puppy eyes, and because you spent 8 dollars on some stupid cotton candy, you stay quiet and let PJ think whatever she wants.

“Fine,” she huffs and turns around, “Whatever.”

You feel Hazel trembling slightly against your grip and she sighs audibly in relief when PJ finally leaves.

“Dude,” her shoulders slump tensely, “Thank yo—”

“Dude?” You repeat in disbelief, dragging her behind the nearest empty corner, “What the fuck were you thinking about?”

Hazel flinches at the sound of your screams, letting go of your hand instinctively, the false confidence from seconds ago immediately disappearing.

“I panicked!” she exclaims.

You inhale deeply, “Haze, I told you not to get me involved in this.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” she looks away, completely embarrassed and you notice that she inevitably dropped the candy along the way as she reaches her hands out to grab both of yours. They're cold and sweaty against your skin.

You know she didn't mean any wrong and you can't stay mad at her anyway.

“Why didn’t you talk to me again before making a scene like that?” You ask, as softly as you can.

"I was trying! That's what I was going to ask you. I—” She lets out, “Ineedyoutobemygirlfriendforawhileplease!”

It came out too quickly and all as if it was a single word, but you're sure you didn't get it wrong.

Hazel keeps talking to stop you from protesting – which is exactly what you were about to do –, letting go of your hands and gesturing:

“I had even prepared a speech to convince you that it was actually a good idea, seriously! It would only be for a while, just a little. But I was desperate because earlier Stella-Rebecca told me that Josie told Isabel that PJ is interested in that short cheerleader who just joined the club and I wanted to cry because I'm losing my chance and wha—”

“Haze, sweetheart,” you interrupt, grabbing her shoulders to stop her, “Slow down, okay?”

She mumbles another silent apology, squeezing the rings between her fingers and you don't know what to do. There's a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach from when Hazel pulled you close earlier, almost protectively, when she stated that yes, you two were a thing, and for a moment you think about being able to have moments like that with her every day, in her acting like this around your friends and you showering each other with affection all the time and a yearning in the back of your mind to show her that you could actually be a good partner for her.

“It was… it was pretty ridiculous, my speech,” she begins again, “I was going to say something like 'come on, don't you want to think about this a few years from now and be able to laugh and brag about how you were the one who helped put together your friend with her crush like that?'” Hazel chuckles awkwardly, “But I think it sounds too arrogant.”

Hazel tugs at the sleeves of her sweater anxiously when you don't answer, it's been getting a little cold lately and she's wearing the sweater you gave her for her birthday last year. You feel yourself giving faster than you could think.

“You know I wouldn’t ask that to hurt you, right?” she questions hesitantly and you instantly know it's true. “I just wanted to show that I’m worth it.”

You sigh, defeated, “You’re worth it, Haze.”

Hazel looks at you hopefully as you take her hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling her into the crowd.

"Let's do this." You agree.

Screw it. Maybe you'll laugh about this later.

[wosospacegirl]

New crush - Arsenal teen! r

Summary: Leah and Beth find out why Y/n has been late to training. New crush on the way?

Warnings: just a small argument between Leah and Y/n and a lot of teasing.

Word count: 2.3k

Masterlist here

..

It was weird to be a college student and a professional football player, Y/n wouldn't say she got the best of both worlds, but the worst.

Y/n was 17 years old and had the opportunity to attend college in the UK. It was a bit weird at first to have more of a specialized and focused education than the usual high school thing, but she was getting used to it day by day. It was her last year of school, and she couldn’t be happier. She wanted to focus on football and maybe get some minor qualification in any area she was slightly interested in, just so she could have some type of formal education in case she had a career-ending injury or something.

One of the weird things between attending school and playing football was that Y/n would usually arrive at training with her uniform and school bag in hand, which was enough for the team girls to make fun of her.

“Look at our schoolgirl,” Beth said teasingly. “I hope you study to be someone in life, unlike us.”

“You guys have career goals, plus half of you have degrees too,” Y/n said smiling as she walked with Beth to the locker rooms. “Anyways, how was the gym today?”

Y/n went to her locker and got her kit for today, taking off her shirt and standing on her training top, which she had put on before school, so it was faster to change from her school uniform to her Arsenal training kit.

“It was all right,” Beth said, scrolling through her phone. “We did a lot of Strength– squats, forward lunges and all that. Good thing you were busy with… a math test? I guess.”

Y/n was now wearing the full Arsenal kit, her school bag resting in its usual spot on the locker’s floor. “I didn’t have any test today, but don’t tell Renée that, she asked if I could get out of school an hour early and I said no because I told her I had this grammar test.” Y/n winked at Beth.

“And why didn’t you wanna get here an hour earlier?” Beth questioned. “Last month Renée had to beg you to go to school because the Headmistress called the Arsenal’s office saying you were missing school to be here with us.” 

Y/n had messed up.

The thing was… Y/n had met Stella. Stella was an exchange student from Northern Europe and had joined Y/n’s college three weeks ago. Stella was beautiful and super cool. They had lunch together and by the end of the last period, Y/n and Stella would just sit on the grass behind the school and talk for 20 minutes or so, before Y/n had to take the cab to get to training.

When Y/n was talking to Stella, she felt warm inside, giggly, and of course a little shy. Y/n had never felt this before. She had experienced crushes, but they were more like little obsessions, especially with actresses, singers, and well, other footballers.

She always knew she didn’t like boys, but falling for a girl was different and new and exciting. So yeah, maybe Y/n didn’t feel like coming to the training right away because she wanted to share French kisses with a pretty Danish girl.

“Well, I’m just valuing my education, Bethany,” Y/n murmured, looking down to tie her boots.

“You weren’t focusing on your education when you barely passed your business exam last week, and Leah had to beg Renée to let you play against Chelsea,” Beth retorted, narrowing her eyes. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing. Why are you being annoying?” Y/n rolled her eyes, full teenage mode activated. Something that annoyed her was how her teammates were always up in her business just because they saw her as a younger sister. 

God forbid the day she went to a club and didn’t tell anyone. Even Alessia was mad at her. OKAY, yeah, she got a fake ID and went to a very well-known adult bar with her friends, but her teammates weren’t her parents. They didn’t need to care that much.

“Who’s being annoying?” Leah asked, coming out of nowhere.

“Beth.”

“Y/n.”

Y/n and Beth said at the same time.

“She is hiding something from us, Leah,” Beth accused, pointing at Y/n.

“I’m not hiding anything, mate,” Y/n said, sounding more defensive than she would like.

Leah was normally on Y/n’s side. She didn’t get involved in Y/n's personal life that much– the captain just made sure she was well-fed, healthy, and doing okay in school.

“Well, I noticed that these past few weeks you have been a little late than usual,” Leah mumbled. “I just thought you were using those 30 minutes to go to the library or something.

Before Y/n could defend herself Beth was already talking.

“Library, Leah? Do you think teenagers go to the library?” It was Beth’s time to roll her eyes.

“Hey, I used to go to the library,” Leah argued

“Yeah, to snog girls behind the bookshelves,” Beth said.

Leah looked at Beth as if the other blonde was wasting her time.

“Have you been using drugs, Y/n?” Leah asked nonchalantly.

“What? No–”

“Are you sneaking around? Going to places you shouldn't?” The captain asked as Beth locked eyes with Y/n, hoping to catch her in a lie.

“Where do you think I would go in 30 minutes? Wales?” Y/n argued, losing her patience. She just wanted to kick a ball around, but here she was being interrogated.

“Are you having sex? I was 17 once and I just wanna make sure you are being saf–”

“Leah, man, stop!” Y/n screamed, slamming her locker door shut. “I don’t need any sex talk, especially from you two,” Y/n added, pointing at the older woman.

“Hey, don’t slam the door– we don’t do that here,” Leah said, using her captain's voice. “We are just trying to talk to you.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t wanna share everything with the team? Just because I’m 17 doesn’t mean you all need to know where I am and what I’m doing 24/7.”

The locker fell dead silent for a few seconds. Leah and Y/n staring each other down.

“You know very well how chill I am about you, Y/n but at the end of the day, you’re still a kid, and me, Beth and the other girls have to make sure you are okay,” Leah shouted.

“No, you guys don’t have to make sure I’m okay because I know how to take care of myself!” Y/n cried, frustrated. 

“Okay Leah, let it go,” Beth said, finding herself in the role of mediator. “I’m sorry if I overstepped it, Y/n. I just cared about you, and honestly, I just really enjoy knowing other people’s business—especially when they are like a younger sister to me,” Beth added, with a smile.

“I’m sorry I screamed at you,” Leah said, looking up at the ceiling. 

Apologies weren't Leah’s strongest suit.

“I’m sorry I was moody and slammed the locker,” Y/n admitted, feeling a bit ashamed about the whole outburst. “It's just that-–”

The older women looked at Y/n, waiting.

“There is this… person? I guess, yeah, definitely a person, you know?” Y/n confessed. God, she would rather take a penalty than have this conversation right now.

Y/n looked at the girls as if the words she just had mumbled made any sense.

“Well, no, no boyfriend,” Y/n admitted. “But there is…Stella.”

“A person?” Beth asked. “What kind of person? a boyfriend?”

“Just spilled it, mate,” Leah said impatiently.

As soon as the name Stella left Y/n’s mouth, she could feel her cheeks getting warm.

“Oh, so there is a girlfriend,” Beth exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement as Leah smirked at Y/n.

“You’ve been sneaking around with Stella after school?” Beth teased. She was enjoying herself a little too much.

“It’s not sneaking around,” Y/n rolled her eyes— again. “We just—well, we just sit behind school for a few minutes and talk a little.” She tried not to mumble again. “And that's it! No drugs, not sneaking around, no nothing.”

“You’re saying the reason you’ve been 30 minutes late to training for the past month is just to sit and chat with a girl?” Leah questioned.

“She is not just a girl, Le. She is Y/n’s girlfriend, or crush, or whatever.” Beth added.

“She is not my girlfriend, and in fact, she is leaving next week,” Y/n said, unable to hide the sadness in her voice. “She’s an exchange student, and she's going back to her country. That’s why I wanted to spend time with her. With training, matches, actual school, and media day, I only have a little of free time.” 

“Oh darling, I’m sorry to hear that,” Beth said, pulling Y/n into a hug. “And I’m sorry I teased you. You have every right to privacy, just like the rest of us have, okay? I will police myself a little more.”

“It's okay Beth. I know you mean well,” Y/n said, hugging her back.

“Okay, okay, enough hugging—let’s go back to training, I bet you are craving some time on the pitch, yeah?” Leah said, throwing an arm around Y/n’s shoulder and guiding both her and Beth towards the field.

“You know me so well, actually” Y/n smiled. Maybe, just for a few hours, she could forget that Stella was moving away.

Y/n stayed on the pitch after training, long after the other players had gone home. She wasn’t doing anything, just running around with the ball, thinking about a pretty Danish girl. Y/n was very much lost in thought she almost didn’t hear someone calling her from the other side of the pitch.

It was Leah, no longer using her training kit— probably getting ready to go home.

Y/n ran until she was next to her

“I’m already heading home, okay? I just needed a few minutes–” Y/n began explaining herself, knowing full well Leah didn’t like her staying at the facility alone at night. She shut her mouth, though, when she saw what Leah was holding in her hands.

“Those are for you,” Leah said, handing over two tickets.

Arctic Monkeys.

“What? Are you serious?” Y/n grinned, looking at the tickets, then looking back at Leah. “Why?”

“This way you can take your girlfriend to do something cool,” Leah said, feigning mockery. “It’s tomorrow, so send her a text to let her know you will be picking her up at 8 pm.”

“Let her know? I thought I was supposed to ask her out, not demand she go with me?” Y/n replied, still smiling.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “You have a long road ahead of you in the dating world”

“Shut up,” Y/n giggled.

“I can drive you two, so you don’t have to take a cab and all that,” Leah said, as if it meant nothing.

Before Leah could react, she found herself in a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you,” Y/n said, burying her head on Leah’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, all right,” Leah said, pushing her away. Not much of a hugger. “It’s my day off anyway.”

“It's not just that—you just gave me two tickets to Arctic Monkeys. I know how fast they sold out. I tried to buy them, but I couldn't, they were all gone.”

“I have my ways,” Leah smirked. “Go get your things— I’ll give you a ride home.”

“So, who were you going with, Y/n asked, changing the radio station as Leah drove.

“Going where?” Leah asked. “Stop touching it!” she swatted Y/n’s hand away.

“I hate country music!” Y/n whined, slouching back in her seat, a pout on her face.

“That’s your problem. You can buy a car next year and play all the songs you want.”

“Whatever,” Y/n mumbled. “You had a date?”

Leah glanced at Y/n. “What date? and why do you keep changing subjects so much? You look like Beth.”

Y/n picked up the tension in Leah’s voice. “Oh, so you had a date. That’s why you bought two tickets to the show.” Y/n assumed, feeling smug about finally getting some dirt on Leah. It was time for revenge. 

“There was no date, stop being annoying.”

“Oh, there was definitely a date. Your cheeks are getting red.”

“No, they are not!” Leah argued back, briefly looking in the rearview mirror to check if she was blushing. “You are being a bully, stop it.

“No.”

“I’ll tell Stella how annoying you are and then she won’t go to the concert with you,” Leah mumbled.

“She already knows how annoying I am and still wants to go with me,” Y/n teased, sticking her tongue at the captain. 

Leah rolled her eyes again before parking in front of Y/n’s apartment.

“Get out,” Leah said playfully. “Eat your dinner, don’t forget to brush your te—”

“Shut up, Leah,” Y/n said, “I’m not a kid.”

“I know you aren’t, got a girlfriend and everything,” Leah teased. “Don’t forget to ask her out, okay? Bye.”

Y/n waved as Leah took a right onto her street.

The only thing the young player could think about was how she was going to make out with Stella during an Arctic Monkeys concert.

“Damn I kinda love you, Leah,” Y/n said, looking one last time at the ticket before opening the door to her apartment.

[yohajitou]

[Diabolik Lovers, More Blood - Stella Set Bonus Short Story]

Note: A short story that made me want to cry with happiness. It must be said that AzuYui is the couple with the happiest ending 😭

              〜✿〜

           Under the Blue Sky

—Perhaps human dreams are far more modest than we imagine.

As I gazed out at the vast scene before me, that thought suddenly crossed my mind.

The blue sky, the white clouds, a linen cloth spread out, and on it is a lunchbox.

Inside were sandwiches, a very healthy meal made with ham, tomatoes, and cheese.

Beside it stood a thermos filled with black tea sweetened with honey - warm and sweet.

She and I, along with our two children, laughed endlessly for no reason at all as we ate and drank together.

Once our bellies were full, the four of us sprawled out, watching the white clouds drift slowly across the brilliant blue sky.

The children, full and content, soon drifted off to sleep. Their gentle breaths sounded like the soft whispers of summer insects.

“Is this… happiness…?”

I murmured softly.

She lying beside me in the same carefree pose, quietly took my hand.

“Yes, Azusa-kun.”

She turned her head just slightly toward me and smiled tenderly, gently.

For some reason, that smile filled me with joy. And I smiled with her. My heart felt as clear as the sky above us.

The sensation was something I had never known before - strange, unfamiliar - yet it entered me with perfect ease. Like a pure spring that had always been there, only long forgotten. It enveloped me, stirred something deep inside.

This… this must be what it feels like to be alive.

Though I have existed in this world for so long, whether as a human or a vampire, I never truly understood what it meant to live.

Instead, I only ever kept hurting myself.

But now…

“…I finally understand… It’s all because of you… isn’t it?”

I tightened my grip on her hand.

She smiled, yet in the same moment, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

“What’s wrong…? Why are you crying…?”

Though the tears flowed steadily, she simply shook her head.

I tried to grasp the meaning behind her silent answer. But no matter how I searched, I couldn’t find it.

However, I feel sad when she cries, so I wish she would stop. I just wanted her to keep smiling, forever and always.

I sat up halfway and peered into her face.

But her expression twisted with sorrow.

“Something’s hurting you, isn’t it…? Can’t you tell me…? Please…”

“…”

She said nothing. And I could find no more words to say either.

So I leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her eyelid.

And I whispered, “Don’t cry…”

But still, her tears did not stop.

I wondered, what should I do?

Then suddenly, I remembered the red flowers blooming on the other side of the hill. Maybe if I brought those to her, she would stop crying.

I slowly stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“To the other side of the hill… I’ll be right back.”

I smiled as I said it and began to walk away, but she grabbed the hem of my pants and clung to me.

“What’s wrong…?”

“Don’t go... Please don’t go... Stay here with me… forever. I’ll be fine…”

“……………?”

She looked so desperate that I tilted my head in confusion.

“It’s okay, really…”

I tried to take another step, but she still wouldn’t let go.

“Don’t leave my side… Let’s stay together, always. Look, our children are right here too. So… please?”

“…”

Maybe… she was simply afraid of being alone. She just didn’t want me to go.

I wanted to ease her heart. I didn’t want to make her sad or see her cry. So I sat down beside her again.

“I’m glad… Azusa-kun…”

She let out a sigh of relief and rested her head in my lap. I gently stroked her hair, forgetting all about the flowers beyond the hill. There was only her, in my thoughts.

“Stay with me forever, Azusa-kun…”

“Yeah… forever… Always, always… I’ll stay right here… So don’t cry anymore…”

“Uhm… I won’t cry anymore…”

As I stroked her hair, I whispered quietly.

If what she wished for was simply for me to stay by her side, then I would.

Because my wish… is the same.

Just like this, forever, under the blue sky.

—Let’s keep dreaming of a picnic that never ends.

[strawberrylabs]

I have FINALLY finished the raffle fic from ages ago!

the raffle winner was @stellas-starry-stories13

the 1k words was split into 3 seperate smaller fics about Lyney, Freminet and Cyno if their lover, who is cursed to be blunt and speak their mind, were to be kidnapped! I hope you enjoy!

TW: kidnapping, violence

Lyney(442):

Lyney was panicking.

He had run around your shared home 3 times now, calling your name near every nook and cranny he can think of– in the wardrobe, under the bed, heck even in the broom cupboard.

But he got no response, only a plume of dust kicked up by his hurried movements.

He sat on the end of the bed he had shared with you just a few hours prior, the warmth that was shared, sapped by the cold of night.

‘Where are you…’ 

The magician moved, forcing himself to continue searching– until something dropped from the sheets to his feet

A treasure hoarder insignia.

He knew where you were.

‘Bastards… I’ll find you. I promise.’

As Lyney made his way to the nearest treasure hoarder camp, his mind was bombarded with worries.

A particular thought swam higher than the rest; one regarding your curse. 

It wasn’t a secret– unfortunately– that you were cursed to always speak your mind. Literally.

You had done well to avoid giving out sensitive information.

If you were to be questioned about the Hearth’s whereabouts, you would instead say what else you were thinking about; in this situation, that would likely be how much you dislike your captors, or something else the hoarders would not like to hear.

Treasure Hoarders were not known for their patience, or their forgiveness. 

Whilst deep in thought, he had reached the nearest camp. 

Which luckily, was the right one.

Bow drawn, Lyney quietly approached…

He stopped when he heard voices.

‘For the last time, where do the Fatui keep their wealth in Fontaine?!’

‘Your breath really stinks. And you have something stuck in your teeth-’

A loud slap is heard. Lyney draws his bow tighter, string almost snapping.

‘For Archons’ sake! I thought you said it’d be easy to get information from her!’

Lyney finally peers around the corner to see the treasure hoarders arguing

He also sees you, covered in dirt and bruises.

Lyney lets his arrow fly.

It makes contact with the first man– the one who had questioned you.

The arrow explodes into fireworks, Rosseland appearing from the fire, effectively drawing the attention of the surrounding hoarders.

Lyney lets another arrow fly, feeling his health weaken with each charged attack.

By the 5th arrow, he calls back Rosseland-

Only to send him out in a flurry of fire.

Once the Treasure hoarders were dealt with, Lyney runs to you.

‘You took a while’

Despite your words, a tired, yet genuine smile met your lips.

‘I’m sorry- I’m here now.’

He picks you up.

‘Now, let’s get out of here and inform the Gardes of these heathens’ sad performance.’

Freminet(309):

‘Oh no..’

Freminet doesn’t know what to do.

Where were you? 

Had you finally left him?

No, you’d still be found at the Hearth, but you weren’t there either.

You weren’t anywhere.

No one knew where you were.

Freminet wasn’t panicked– not yet. But he was worried.

He didn’t want to assume the worst, but he was running out of options.

You’d been taken. Stolen from him.

Freminet had been good at finding things before, he would find you too.

He started searching known hilichurl camps– maybe there were too many, and you couldn’t take them?

He then searched areas with prominent amounts of rogue mechs. Perhaps you had been bested by a Recon Mec’s missiles?

Then, after not finding you previously, he started searching treasure hoarder camps.

He had searched 4 camps before he heard your familiar voice.

‘You look super ugly by the way. Not at all my type.’

‘That wasn't even what we asked!’

‘You don’t get to smart mouth us you bitch!’

Freminet’s world slows when he hears you cry out in pain.

Before he knew it, he was swinging his claymore at the perpetrators.

One by one, they fell to his cryo.

‘That was hot.’

Freminet is kicked out of his stupor by your comment, a blush settling over his face.

‘... Are you.. Alright?’ 

He kneels down to look at you better- slap marks and gashes littered your face and arms.

He sits back up and holds out his hand to you

‘Come on.. We need to get you patched up, then we can head back home and tell Father what happened.’

When you reach out to his hand, you can’t help but notice that he holds on just that little bit tighter.

‘Hey, Frem. I’m safe now. Thank you for saving me.’

His grip relaxes. 

‘..I’ll always protect you.’

‘I know.’

Cyno(380):

Cyno had been tracking a band of Treasure Hoarders that recently crossed into Sumeru from the Chasm.

There had been reports that their leader was more cunning than most other mindless groups.

This fact had been proven by the fact that they had managed to evade the Mahamatra all this time.

Every time an incident was reported, Cyno would arrive just too late.

Every attack was careful and calculated.

But this time, the Treasure Hoarders had made a mistake.

They tried to take you from your lover. 

Cyno has a feeling all day something was off. His instincts are never wrong.

He arrived at your home to see the door ajar, and the lock broken. After a quick, efficient search of the house, he concluded you had been taken.

It seemed that while Cyno was studying the Treasure Hoarders, they were studying him.

Cyno immediately set out tracking the group.

He wouldn’t let them get far.

While Treasure Hoarders would need to stop to rest, Cyno refused to stop.

He was after them. He was going to take you back.

It was late at night when Cyno spotted their camp.

As silent as the sand and as precise as the carvings in the ruins, Cyno snuck up on the Treasure Hoarders. He paused, however, as he heard a conversation.

‘You’re really stupid. Cyno will come for me, and he won’t let you live.’

‘Aha! You really think he’s going to catch up? We’re travelling at top speed and only taking minimum breaks. Not even the General Mahamatra can do that.’

‘Pfft you’re even more stupid than I thought.’

‘Shut it! You’re just a prisoner!’

Cyno’s spear had struck before the Treasure Hoarders hand could make contact with your skin.

Cyno’s fury could only be described as animalistic.

It wasn't long before all the enemies had been either knocked unconscious, or left to be covered by the moving dunes..

Cyno took a breath before untying you.

‘I am sorry. I should’ve known they would try to come for you.’

You hug him.

‘Don’t be sorry. I knew you’d come. Just like I told them.’

Cyno wraps an arm around your back and holds you tight.

‘My enemies had better think twice in future, before they even think about touching you.’

Hope you enjoyed, please point out any mistakes I may have made!

if you'd like to read more, check out my masterlist!

Strawberry<3