#as soon as i scribbled the first one i was Immediately reminded of that 'a christmas story' scene

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I love Moth Howdy’s extreme floof, he is an actual puff ball and I want to live in his hair

i guess you could say he's a.... mothball

(amplified fluff for your viewing pleasure <3)

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader

As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!

Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’

[Part 2] [Monster masterlist]

There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.

Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.

You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.

“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.

“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”

“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”

“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.

The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.

“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”

“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”

His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.

“Perfect match.”

“Excuse me?”

He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.

Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.

“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”

The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.

A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.

“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.

The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.

“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.

“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”

A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.

“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.

“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”

Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.

“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.

He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.

“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”

For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.

“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”

“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.

You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:

“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”

Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.

“Who’s a buffoon?”

The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.

“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.

“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”

As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:

“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.

“What are you even doing here?”

“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”

“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”

“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”

“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”

Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [1]

Dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, angst, fluff, barely proofread, kinda rushed, prologue type of part.

Word count: 1,9k

next chapter

previous chapter

"Daddy daddy look what I made!" When Jake Sully entered the room, he was met with a pair of sparkling eyes staring directly at him, paper in hand as you jumped up and down in excitement. He closed the door with his hands before he moved them back to the wheels, rolling himself forward carefully as he had their dinner on his lap. When you headed towards him, your tiny feet stepping towards him in small baby steps, Jake Sully already knew he had to remove anything available on his lap for the tiny human that was about to jump in his arms. He quickly put the plastic bag to his side and opened his arms to welcome his adopted daughter in his arms. "Daddy daddy!!", your squeals filled the air as you pressed yourself against his body. Jake Sully had to steady his body for the huge amount of impact a tiny human like yours could give, but once he seated you comfortably on his lap, he couldn't help but lift you up to his face, his arms around her body to hug her close as she was kneeling on his lap. "Hi babygirl, did you make something for daddy?", he brought his lips towards your chubby cheek to blow a raspberry against your skin. Tons of giggles left your lips as you nodded your head to his question, "I drew daddy and me!" You held onto his shoulder to steady yourself with one hand before you brought the drawing in front of his face. Jake Sully had to squint his eyes to get used to the closeness, the little girl, that was you, basically pressing the drawing into his face. Another pair of giggles left your lips as you waited for his reply. He turned you around on his lap and you immediately took a seat, your short legs dangling against his. Jake took his time to analyze the drawing. It was incredibly messy, as expected of a six year old. A few scribbles in different colors. Something that is supposed to look like a rainbow? But in the middle, there he was. Jake sully himself. He was sitting on something that looked like a chair and his little girl was there, right on his lap. The drawing was very abstract, but it made his heart flutter nonetheless. "And you drew this all by yourself? You did this all by yourself?" One hand is held onto the drawing while the other was wrapped around your stomach.

"Yes daddy!! I love you daddy!!"

You, (Y/N) Sully, prior (Y/N) (L/N), were confused. Where did your daddy go? You were young, age 8 when he left you on earth. You didn't understand why. Didn't he love you? But he always made sure to remind you. Kisses, quality time, cuddling. He took you in when mommy and daddy died, so why is he suddenly leaving you? He told you it was for work, something important that would give the both of you a good life. Give you a good life. But you didn't care about anything of that. Being with your daddy already made you feel like you were living your best life. Painting with daddy, eating with daddy, cuddling with daddy. But he told you to be patient and that he would return to you soon. Yet, when was soon? You grew impatient, even though you yourself knew that it wasn't kind of you to be like that. He took you in when you were an orphan and took his time to care for you, even though he was paralyzed and having a hard time himself. You completed one another, because you both needed each other the most at the same time. So you tried you best to stay optimistic. Your daddy loves you, so surely he will come soon for you, right? But days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Then he missed your eleventh birthday. The neighbors Jake Sully was close with took care of you instead during the time. They were like your auntie and uncle, but they weren't your daddy. When two years passed, you decided to call it quits. He wasn't coming back for you. You were thirteen at that time, old enough to understand the reality of the world. A teenager without any goals is what you were, the light and will left your eyes the moment your daddy left you. You hated carrying his last name, yet couldn't bring yourself to change it back to your original surname.

The decision to keep your last name was the reason they found you. They, are a resistance group going against the destruction of Pandora. Pandora. The planet your daddy went to and never came back from. Like the reckless thirteen-year-old you were and not thinking about consequences at all in this terrible world, you went with these unknown, potentially dangerous, people to their underground base. There you were answered all the questions you had and wanted to ask. It was normal that you were curious about your dad, but tried to be nonchalant about it. Him leaving you wasn't a big deal, not at all. Why would that be a big deal? But you couldn't fool anyone with that type of behavior, as the liteaunant explained further than the questions you actually asked. Much more personal information. A daughter will always miss her dad after all. You learned that your father, Jake Sully, was still alive and one of the people. A painful way to know, from someone else, since it felt like your father indirectly slapped you in the face with an 'I don't care about you'. "Alive and well", were the words she told you. Alive and well your ass. When you were asked to join the program to protect Pandora, the indigenous and its nature from the greedy governments that tried to destroy it. The same governments that already have destroyed their own planet: ignoring global warming. Proceeding to pump gas from under the ground, bringing animals in danger, and destroying the nature humanity needs to even breathe. You couldn't lie, you wanted to decline. Saving the world and all sounded good and all, but you never wanted to do anything that even indirectly involved you so-called father. When money and status were involved, it started to sound interesting in your eyes. Ironic, the same way your dad left you. Like father like daughter, one could say. Yet, this was your chance to show everyone what you could turn out to be.

So, accepting is what you did. You soon started training, but it was no usual military training. You all learned about life on Pandora, you and the others that had potential in them learned to live like the people of Pandora: the bow and arrow, spears, but also hand-to-hand combat if anything were to go wrong. The training honestly went great, you didn't regret accepting the offer one bit. You felt fit and worthy, and most importantly you found people around you that cared for you. The liteaunant that guided you from the start was like a master to you. Not in an authority kind of way, but a respectful bond between two equals. You had friends that went through this entire process with you, telling each other about their lives and how they ended up here. While they were almost like warriors following orders, every night the group would sneak away to be like teenagers again, kids having fun and playing games. For a long time, it was the same routine. Wake up, eat, and train for almost the entire day, do homework, have dinner, sneak out, and sleep. You hated that homework so much, but knew that you needed to master everything you were given. It was to learn the language of the people, Na'vi. This felt like when you had to learn languages in high school, but ten times worse as you didn't even finish high school. "Oel nati kamy?", your voice sounded unsure as you tried to say the formal way of greeting someone in Na'vi, but you earned a slap against your forehead in return from one of your friends. "No, it's Oel Ngati Kameie, skxwang!"

Years of training together ended up being so worth it, because when all of you reached the end of your teenage years, it got announced that you were finally ready. You felt so delighted to know that all of your hard work paid off in the end. You knew everyone had a hard time trying their best to teach you the language of the people, so you were so thankful for everyone around you to get you where you are right now. Everyone worked so hard for it. As a parting gift, your liteaunant gifted you a katana. "It's to protect yourself, and always think of me", she joked to you, but the both of you could feel the heavy tension in the air. The grip on your katana tightened as you dropped your bag on the floor. You finally wrapped your arms around her, forgetting about the warrior exterior, that facade falling for just a moment. She didn't hesitate to hug you in return, "thank you for everything." You had whispered into her ear and pulled yourself together, being the first one to pull away from the hug. You knew that if you didn't let go now, you would second-guess jumping on your flight to Pandora. "Come on (y/n)!" Your friends already boarded and you were the last one left on the flat grounds. "Go on, child. You deserve this. And remember what I told you!" You don't reply, but only flash her a smile as you run after your friends with the katana and a bag. You all follow your superiors' suit, putting your stuff where they tell you to. With no seconds left to spare, they immediately tell you to follow them to your tubes, you were getting put into cryosleep. You still couldn't believe it. They were going to put you to sleep for six years and you're gonna wake up looking the same, but temporarily living in a dream world you trained your entire teen years for. You lay down in your tube, ready to get put to sleep. The nerves were truly getting to you. "See you on the other side!", you jokingly said to lift up the mood, and your friends started joking around, telling one another goodbyes and what they should do if one of them doesn't wake up. You just lay there quietly, waiting to get put to sleep as your mind starts wandering. You kept thinking about your leatiunant's words. She keeps telling you that you should make up with your dad or at least hear him out. You hoped you wouldn't run into him on Pandora, but he was Jake Sully. The Toruk Makto that went from being a sky demon to being one of the people. For sure you would get in contact with him. But as long as no one revealed your name, everything could be fine. He's dead to you after all. Surely, you were only there for the money and a good time, right?

Only time could tell.

A/N: my first time writing on tumblr so no idea how some stuff works. Had this type of idea for a dad Sully plot for a while and finally started it. Legit rushed through this to finish this asap cause backstory kinda lame. I'm a college student so give me some time until the next part. I need to release a novella for college so I'm double-writing a story— isn't smart of me but🤭

[arminsumi]

Hii can we pls get an extremely smitten in love like love sick gojo pls?????

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

A/N: ABSOLUTELY!! 🥰

Wc ≈ 1.7k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: the annoying popular boy at college has his heart set on you 😌💕

Warnings; it's a little cheesy

There’s a white-haired boy that always, always sits next to you in every single class. He’s got the looks that kill, one-of-a-kind features, almost too pretty to be on earth; the kind of boy that makes even teachers stutter in the middle of their lecture simply because of his presence.

So many girls fawn over him, like he’s the rockstar of your college with a bunch of groupies following wherever he goes.

And that ticks off one reason you don’t like Gojo Satoru.

The other reasons? To narrow it down; he’s an arrogant cocky flirty bastard who will not stop asking you out to parties and dates. Persistent and determined to make you crack and finally fall for him. Relentless and fast in his pursuit of your heart no matter how far it runs – he’s gonna getcha, he knows it, it’s just a matter of time.

He’s never felt this deeply or intensely. It makes his head spin. When you walk in the room, when you speak, when he sees your name on an attendee list… it has him feeling tingly and lightheaded. Even getting a text from you makes him jump; he replies in two seconds and pouts when you leave him on read. He even complains to his mom and Suguru about you.

This boy is the walking symptoms of lovesick.

But he’s in heavy denial about it. No, no – he’s not obsessed, you’re obsessed. He’s not crushing on you; you’re crushing on him. He’s not chasing you; you’re chasing him. He doesn’t wanna kiss you, you wanna kiss him.

“You have such a fat crush on me.” He smirks, talking unashamedly loudly so everyone who’s passing down the columned corridor can hear.

You sigh. “No I don't, Gojo.”

“It’s Satoru to you,” he winks, “And anyways, you’re not busy this afternoon, yeah?”

“Actually I am – ”

“Great! Let’s go out.”

Your whole face spells how frustrated you are.

“Oh my god…” you sigh, getting up for your next class which was in two minutes – Gojo took up all your time. Your friends had long slipped away after he gave them a glare, snickering as they did because they thought the whole thing between you and him was hilarious.

His long legs strode next to you down the corridor.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To class.” you replied.

“Let me walk you there.” he offered eagerly.

“Thanks, but there’s really no need.” you replied.

He looked at you like a sad puppy, so you gave in. “Oh my god, fine then.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“What!” you looked at him incredulously, “You’re the one who – oh my god never mind. Walk me to class, Gojo.”

He grinned in satisfaction. You almost wanted to smack him.

“It’s Satoru.” He corrected.

“I’m not calling you that. We’re not friends.” You said.

“Gosh, you’re breaking my heart!” he jokes, but deep down he was a little cut by that. You could tell by how he said no more smart remarks. He was silent.

You slid into your seat, watching your professor prepare the sliding whiteboards with awful scribbles of calculus. Gojo slid right next to you, settling his smart ass down a little closer than last time. He was aching to get closer to you in any way he could.

“I need a pen.” He whispered under his breath to you as soon as the lecture began.

“Seriously? Again? Where do you keep putting the ones I give you, up your ass?”

He smirked at you. Pretty blue eyes peaked over the rims of his sunglasses. You weren’t the only one to notice that he had them on indoors; the professor glanced over and immediately reprimanded him.

“Gojo, glasses off indoors, please. Don’t make me keep reminding you.” She said.

Gojo grumbled and reluctantly took them off, setting them down on the desk. You’d already began hastily scribbling notes, but all Gojo managed to do for the first ten or fifteen minutes of the lecture was drum his borrowed pen on his empty spiralbound notebook. He stole thirsted glances of you out of the corner of his eyes.

At some point his attention solely focused on you.

He observed you intently; the way you held your pen, the pace at which you write, your handwriting, how you leaned over just enough for your breasts to lightly squish against the desk.

“Hey.” He whispered to you.

You looked at him bemusedly. Ah, here he goes again. Fifteen minutes in and he has something to say to you.

“Can I copy your notes?” he asked.

“Seriously?” you whisper-shouted. The professor was so deep into her lecture about calculus that she didn’t notice Gojo starting to chat you up.

Asking to copy your notes was just his entry into flirting; what followed next was “I like your handwriting” and “so about that date…” and “there’s a party at my place this weekend…” and “wanna ditch this class together?”

“Satoru,” you said, “shut up, please.”

He shut up, not because you asked him to – he would have gone on and on despite your wishes, but you called his name. That took him aback so much so that he actually had to recompose himself and sit back, take in a breath, think for a bit. The way you pronounced his name had him in pieces.

Now came the part of the lecture where Satoru started making you laugh. You tried so hard not to, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction – but he had a good humour, you couldn’t deny a few breathy laughs here or there.

His unwavering stare was so distracting. That and the fact he kicked his feet up on the desk. He took them down when the professor turned around, and then resumed his lazy position as soon as she turned back to the whiteboard.

“Satoru,” you began, “How is it that you never take notes and still pass?”

He shrugged. “I’m a prodigy. You’re sitting next to a real genius.”

You regretted asking.

He felt bad, so he gave you a small honest answer. “I cram at night.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Would be nice to have a study buddy…” he suggested.

“No.”

“But wouldn’t it be nice? Let’s study in the library later.”

“No – ”

“Okay! I’ll meet ya there!” he smiled decisively, choosing to ignore your decline.

The class concluded, and Gojo lingered by your desk waiting for you to pack up. Some lovestruck girls always approached him at that point, and he held small talk with them. He absolutely let their compliments fuel his ego.

You tried to take advantage of the fact he was distracted by them so you could slip out of the lecture theatre unnoticed. But he had good eyes.

“Oh, gotta go. Bye.” He said hastily, eyes locked on you like you were his target. He practically tumbled down the desk levels to get to you.

Just as you disappeared beyond the door, he caught up with you, lanky body colliding with yours on ‘accident’. You thought it was deliberate, but it really was an accident – he was so clumsy around you. He threw you a lopsided, apologetic smile.

That familiar sad puppy expression developed on his features as you walked quickly down the corridor and ignored him. Inside, you were bitter about how he bathed in those girl’s attention.

He had his hands behind his back. A peculiar thing – he usually walked like he owned the place with his hands swinging like a model on a runway. You stopped abruptly in your tracks when you noticed his deflated behavior. He bumped into you again.

“Hey…”

“Sorry.” He muttered apologetically.

“… wanna get lunch together, after studying?” you offered, feeling bad for how you ignored him the whole walk to the library.

His eyes lit up. “Yeah! Yeah… uh, yes.” He almost choked. “Absolutely.”

After that, he had a pep in his step as he followed you into the library.

Studying with him was super unproductive. He kept teasing your face, pinching your cheeks and ears to get your attention and then when he had it, he started rambling about something.

Then he pulled giggles out of you. He did such goofy, stupid things.

“Look.” He said, so you looked away from your textbook.

You shook your head.

He had balanced a book on his head and bit his borrowed pen between his pearly whites.

“Don’t put my pen in your mouth! I don’t want your germs.” You said.

He grinned.

You had to admit… that was an attractive smile. The way his Addam’s apple subtly shifted. The way his eyes lit up. The way his eyes creased.

He took the book off his head and the pen out of his mouth.

“You don’t want my germs?” he pouted jokingly.

“No, no way.”

“How are we ever gonna kiss?”

“E – excuse m – what? Huh?”

Gojo giggled. He threw that in just to see your reaction.

“You sooo wanna kiss me.” He teased.

“Uh… I don’t…” you swallowed.

“You’re such a bad liar.” He said, his tone shifting into a genuinely serious one.

“I’m not lying. I’d never kiss you.” You spoke.

“Yeah?”

He brought his face closer to you. So close you could see the subtle freckles on his pale cheeks.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Gojo asked, peering at your soul with his eyes.

You stuttered, too stunned to response. What would you do? It was a genuine question, you could tell by the tone of his voice and look in his eyes. He really wanted to know.

“I don’t know…” you responded.

“Have you thought about it at all?” he asked. A slight nervousness shook his vocals. There was the smallest of voice cracks as he said ‘thought’.

Should you have been honest? You were looking into his eyes contemplatively. Was he trying to trick you? Was he gonna get an answer out of your lips and then humiliate you with it?

You just bit the bullet and said it.

“Yeah, I guess I have.”

His eyes searched for any hints that you were kidding. You got his heart thumping, his blood rushing around so hard he felt dizzy.

It looked like he wanted to kiss you really badly, but your phone went off and ruined the moment completely. The lovey air dissolved between you and him and he wished it hadn't.

While you hastily took your phone call, you noticed out of the corner of your eyes that Gojo had a boyish blush on his face.

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

Visit my library ?

[bellaveux]

The soft college au is sooo amazingly written that I just can’t get enough 😩💕 Would u be willing to write something else for them? Maybe their first real fight with lots of angst but also hurt/comfort…

I adore the way u write, u have a beautiful way with words 💕

NOT A DISTRACTION | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: being under constant stress from studying, wanda suddenly snaps at you when you try to get her to take a break.

content warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, some fluff (?), college au, arguing, wanda being a little bit mean (?), healthy relationship overall, happy ending, not proofread (thumbs up)

word count: 4.1k

note: i’m so so sorry for the long wait!! i have been having some busy weeks but i hope u like this :] n thank u for requesting!

You never really fought with Wanda. From the moment the two of you started dating, your relationship effortlessly embodied the essence of the honeymoon stage throughout most of your time together. Nothing ever escalated enough to the point where the two of you would yell at each other, and it was usually not a result of avoiding conflict. There were times when short-lived arguments would occur and last about an hour or so, but even then, they were never too much of a big deal. The two of you just talked a lot more. Communicated. She was patient and understanding, and so were you.

But soon, a subtle shift had taken hold of Wanda's world, and you couldn't help but notice the quietness that had settled upon the recent time you spent together. In the past few weeks, Wanda's presence felt somewhat distant, her thoughts seemingly consumed by a demanding pursuit. You could see it. Your eyes noticed the telltale signs almost immediately, the late nights spent poring over textbooks, the fatigue etched on Wanda's face, and the weight of countless assignments pressing upon her shoulders.

Sitting near her desk in the apartment you shared with a book in your hand, you watched the gentle furrow that creased Wanda's brow as she read through her notebook, a reflection of the mental strain she carried. The lulls in the conversations grew longer, the pauses filled with unspoken worries and unexpressed thoughts. You tried your best to support her, being in her presence in some way at least to remind her that you were always there.

But eventually, with each passing day, your eyes became attuned to the nuances of Wanda's silence. You wondered if she even noticed when you scribbled something on that empty, bright orange sticky note on one of her textbooks, hoping she’d find it later.

You then asked her to take a break, even if it was just for a couple of minutes, maybe drink the tea you had made for her a while ago, sitting cold atop the desk now, but you’d always get the same answer. No. It was a short answer, but it was firm. She made no room for any other comments as she continued to bury herself in her work. You witnessed the flickering of determination in Wanda's gaze, the flickering flame that desperately refused to be extinguished by fatigue — which, in the end, didn’t work. And it was hard to ignore.

Your eyes scanned Wanda's fatigued expression, etched with the marks of endless studying and sleepless nights. A gentle concern flickered across your face as you recognized the toll it was taking on your girlfriend.

“Hey,” you stood from your seat, moving behind her chair to wrap your arms around her gently. “I really think you should take a break.”

“No,” she muttered quickly under her breath, her focus unwavering as she read through her textbook.

“Just for a little bit, babe?” You reluctantly continue, asking softly for some of her time with a smile. “We can watch that show you like… I miss you. And, we haven’t hung out in a while—“

“I can’t, (Y/n).”

She spoke quickly and firmly, ghosting her palm over your arms to move them away from her. Wanda stubbornly clung to her determination, her eyes reflecting a steadfast focus that could not be easily swayed. The weight of responsibilities and academic aspirations weighed heavily upon her, causing her to resist the idea of stepping away, even for a short respite.

“You’re exhausted,” you tell her as if it were obvious. “You haven’t taken a break at all, Wanda—“

“I said I can’t. What part of that don’t you understand?”

You take a step back and furrow your eyebrows at her, “I… I do understand… but it’s been weeks. You’ve been studying nonstop for weeks. A tiny break would be good for you, and we’d be able to spend time together a bit, and it’ll help you relax, too—“

Wanda snapped and abruptly stood from her seat, slamming her papers down onto the surface of her desk as she turned to look at you, “I don’t have time, (Y/n). Please. There’s so much material I have to cover and my exams are coming up in less than two weeks and I still have so many chapters to go through and I cannot fail them—If you just understood the pressure I’m under, you wouldn’t keep asking for my time. I don’t have time to relax. I can't afford any distractions!”

Your hopeful anticipation melted away as Wanda's words sliced through the air with unexpected force. Your eyes widened, a flicker of hurt and confusion dancing within their depths. The color drained from your cheeks, leaving behind a subtle pallor that betrayed your shock. Your lips trembled, longing to utter a response, yet finding themselves immobilized for a brief moment by the weight of Wanda's unexpected outburst.

“I-I know that,” you shook your head, trying desperately to blink the tears in your eyes away. “I know they’re important. I just wanted to be there for you and help take your mind off the stress for a little while.”

“It's not about you being there for me right now! What I need is to focus, and it feels like you're just adding more pressure. It’s not fucking helping,” Wanda rolls her eyes and turns her back towards you, eyes glossing over her work.

“Adding pressure? I'm not trying to burden you, Wanda,” you tell her. “I just want you to take a break.”

Wanda sighs, rubbing her temples, “And, all I want is some peace and quiet.”

Ultimately, she gets what she wants.

You left the room without another word, leaving her alone with the peace and quiet she asked for. Wanda listened as you quietly gathered your belongings, your footsteps carrying a weight of sadness as you moved toward the door. Wanda's heart sank as she watched your figure retreat, the room suddenly feeling emptier than ever. She clenched her fists, desperately attempting to focus on her studying, but the longing to go after you tugged at her with every passing second. The textbooks before her turned blurry as Wanda fought against the overwhelming urge to abandon her books and rush after you, to apologize, to hold you close, and to reassure you that you mattered more than any exam ever could.

But for now, Wanda buried her emotions and tried to bury herself in her studies, the silence in the room a painful reminder of the rift between the two of you.

An hour passed with Wanda immersed in her studies, her mind grappling with the complex concepts on the pages before her. However, as time trickled by, the weight of your absence became increasingly unbearable. Thoughts of the argument kept interjecting her focused thoughts, distracting her from the task at hand. Wanda's eyes wandered from the textbooks to the empty chair where you had sat, and her mind replayed their last conversation, each word etching itself into her consciousness. She wondered what you were up to right now. She figured you’d be trying to relax by reading a book or something or working on your own schoolwork on your laptop.

The weight of regret settled upon her shoulders, pressing down with each passing moment. The silence amplified the echoes of the argument, and the memory of her sharp words hung heavily in the air.

“Fuck,” Wanda whispered, dropping her head down against the desk as she thought of you.

The stillness in the air made Wanda long for your presence, for the warmth of your smile and the tenderness of your touch. Wanda's heart ached with the realization of how much she truly missed you, and how much she craved the comfort and connection you shared. As she gazed at her unfinished work, a sense of urgency washed over her, a desperate desire to complete the tasks at hand so that she could have the chance to make amends, to embrace you once more.

Eventually, Wanda closed her books, the decision to head to bed finally crystallizing within her. Though the material lay unfinished, the ache in her heart took precedence. With a heavy sigh, she set her study materials aside, her footsteps carrying her toward the bathroom to brush her teeth before heading into the bedroom you both shared. As she entered the room, her steps weighed down by the lingering remnants of the recent argument, a flicker of anticipation mingled with the uncertainty within her.

“(Y/n)?” Wanda called out softly, nudging the door open quietly with her fingers.

The room was dimly lit, casting a gentle glow that danced upon the walls. In the quiet stillness, her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, and she noticed a familiar shape nestled amidst the blankets. Drawing closer, her heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of you, draped in Wanda's oversized, well-worn hoodie. Her heart softened as she stared, and the remnants of the argument faded away in the face of this cherished sight. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she found the sight undeniably endearing. She absolutely loved it when you wore her clothes. It never failed to make her happy.

But as Wanda's gaze settled upon your sleeping face, her smile waned.

Her eyes traced the delicate contours of your face. The dim light of the lampshade by the bed cast a gentle glow upon the room, revealing tear stains glistening on your cheeks. Wanda's heart clenched at the sight, a mix of guilt and sorrow washing over her. Eventually, anger slowly swelled within her, directed solely at herself for the pain she had caused you. The tenderness of your sleeping form, coupled with the traces of tears, shattered any lingering defense mechanisms Wanda had built. The weight of regret bore heavily upon her chest, intensifying with each rise and fall of your breath. She hated it when you cry, more so if she was the reason behind it.

She quietly sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, her touch light and tender, as though she was afraid to disturb the fragile peace of your sleep. She lingered for a moment, taking in the sight of your slumbering form, silently vowing to mend the rift that had formed between the two of you. With a sigh of determination, Wanda leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead before going into the bathroom to get ready for sleep, then retreating to her own side of the bed, the weight of the night's events heavy on her conscience.

Wanda laid quietly on her back as she recalled what happened earlier, trying to repeat all the words you said along with hers. She didn’t mean to snap at you, and truthfully, she honestly should’ve listened during all of the countless times you told her to take a break. It would’ve eased her, relieve all that tension that was building up in her shoulders. But all of that bottled up stress came pouring out of her tonight, and you were the only one there to be on the receiving end of it.

After what felt like hours of staring at the ceiling, Wanda eventually moved closer to you, unable to fight the urge to reach out to you. Her arms circled around your stomach, drawing you in slowly and tenderly as she tucked her head comfortably in your hair, breathing you in. A soft sigh escaped Wanda's lips as she held you tightly. She could feel your rhythmic breathing, the rise and fall of your chest underneath her arms, and the tension that had plagued her since the argument gradually melted away. You felt so soft in her arms, and she wondered how she could even yell at someone who was just worried about her wellbeing.

Wanda closed her eyes, savoring the softness of your presence, the scent of your hair, and the gentle weight of your body against her own. Slowly, she let herself drift, falling asleep to the sound of your breath, snuggling so close to you.

A soft warmth spread through your being as you slept, the tension in your body gradually easing as you melted into Wanda's touch. Halfway through the night, you subconsciously slipped your hand into Wanda’s, the one that rested against your stomach, gently intertwining your fingers with hers.

Sleep was peaceful. Sometime during the night, you turned over to nestle your face in the crook of Wanda’s neck as she continued to hold you. Your breathing, gentle and steady, harmonized with Wanda's own as if they were creating a shared melody of forgiveness. Unwilling to let go, she held you close, her arms wrapped protectively around you until the sun came up.

You woke up first the next morning, as your classes started at a much earlier time than hers. In a way, you kind of didn’t want to start the day arguing with her, hoping to not annoy her as much as you did yesterday. And you still felt quite upset about what happened last night, so you felt that you should just get ready for the day quietly and deal with it later when your classes are out of the way — if Wanda wanted to deal with it later, that is.

You didn’t exactly know what to expect later when you see each other again when you get home. You thought about apologizing, for not leaving her alone when she asked you to, but you were stubborn and wanted her to take some time off away from all of that work for a while. Although, the weight of Wanda's harsh words still lingered in your mind. You then realized your own role in the escalating tension Wanda was carrying. You persisted, unwilling to give Wanda the space she had requested, and it had only fueled the flames of the fight.

Your college classes seemed to pass by in a blur, the minutes stretching out as your mind continually wandered back to thoughts of your girlfriend, wondering how she was doing in her own classes. The lectures that once held your attention became mere background noise as your thoughts were consumed by unresolved emotions.

Eventually, you stepped through the front door of your apartment, your weary footsteps echoing in the quiet space. The weight of a long day's worth of classes settled upon your shoulders, manifesting as a subtle slouch. You glanced around, expecting to find Wanda waiting for you, but the apartment was empty, devoid of the comforting presence you longed for. You immediately assumed she was at the library, and that she’d probably be home late sometime in the evening.

Weariness creased your brow as you removed your shoes, feeling the fatigue of the day seep through your bones. You didn’t have much work to do, school wise, but you wanted to do something anyway, to distract yourself somehow, so you ended up doing some of the dishes that you left in the sink from the night before. The argument put that chore on pause when you left the room last night.

As the warm water cascaded over your hands, you diligently scrubbed the dishes, finding solace in the simple act of cleaning. The clinking of porcelain against the sink temporarily distracted you from the lingering tension that hung in the air. Lost in your thoughts, you paused, your ears perking up as you heard the familiar creak of the front door opening. Your heart skipped a beat, curiosity mingled with trepidation as you rinsed your hands and stepped away from the sink.

You peeked your head out into the tiny hall that led up to the front door of your apartment, your eyes settling on the sight of your girlfriend who was kicking her shoes off, struggling slightly as she held onto a plastic bag with one hand. Wanda's movements held a mix of exhaustion and relief, her shoulders visibly relaxing as she shed the burdens of the day. The sight stirred a twinge of tenderness within you.

“Wanda?”

“Oh! Hey…” Your girlfriend whipped her head up at the sound of your voice.

For a moment, you turned your head away to look up at the clock, then back to Wanda, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at her, “What are you doing here?”

“I-I’m home,” Wanda blurted out nervously, walking down the hall to make her way towards you—to greet you with a small kiss like she always does.

“Well, I can see that much,” you replied, voice hinted with a bit of sass as you stepped away and returned to the sink before she could get any closer. “I mean, what are you doing here so early? Shouldn’t you be at the library?”

The tiny smile on Wanda’s face faltered as she watched you back away from her, returning to the sink where you had left the dishes in. Her eyes dropped to the floor, sighing quietly in disappointment as she leaned against the wall. You were upset with her, understandably so, and she hated to live in the present with that fact.

“Uh, no, I… I was thinking of taking your advice. You know, taking that break, like you said,” Wanda fidgeted nervously as she spoke, trying to ease her anxiety by fiddling with the paper bag that was hanging by her fingers. “We can do movies tonight? Or something… Whatever you wanna do. And, I bought some food, too, from that place you like.”

You bit the inside of your cheek for a brief moment as you rinsed off the plate in your hand, still refusing to look at her, “I thought you didn’t have time for distractions.”

Wanda closed her eyes, remembering her words from the night before—words that had obviously hurt you. She walked up and set the paper bag of your favorite takeout on the kitchen table, wondering what she could do to make you look at her.

“No, (Y/n)… You’re not a distraction,” Wanda started, eyes settling on your back as you stood at the sink.

You paused after a moment before turning around to face her, crossing your arms, still guarded as you leaned against the kitchen counter. “That’s not what you said yesterday.”

“I know,” she replied, stepping forward as she ran her palms against her jeans nervously. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You shook your head slightly, showing her a look of confusion as you listened to her words.

Wanda carefully took slow steps to get closer to you as she spoke, “For what I said. For yelling at you. I’ve been so caught up with studying and everything and… I’ve been stressed and I took it out on you last night. I said things that I shouldn’t have said, and I’m so sorry.”

You listened intently, your features softening with each word. Despite your own lingering hurt, you felt a twinge of empathy stirring within you. You understood the weight of regret and the courage it took to confront one's mistakes, and Wanda was trying her best.

“I… I’m exhausted,” she continued, voice trembling with sincerity and regret. “And I miss you. I didn’t realize how much I missed you. I just wanted to hurry and finish everything in one go, so I could give you all of my attention. To focus on you… without worrying about anything else.”

A soft sigh escaped your lips, a mix of relief and longing. For a fleeting moment, you held back, allowing the gravity of the moment to linger, savoring the sweetness of Wanda's heartfelt apology.

“Come here,” you said.

Wand paused for a moment, those two words taking a little bit longer to process in her brain. She watched as you opened your arms, a gesture of acceptance and forgiveness. Wanda stared at your outstretched arms in awe, her breath catching in her throat.

Unable to resist any longer, in one swift motion, she rushed into your waiting arms. Her head dropped instinctively to rest upon your shoulder, finding comfort in the warmth and security that enveloped her. Wanda inhaled deeply, allowing herself to be consumed by your scent. The tension that had settled upon her shoulders, weighing her down with remorse and uncertainty, slowly left.

“I don’t think you’re a distraction, I promise.”

“It’s okay, Wanda. I know. I know you’re tired,” you tell her, soothing your hand over her hair as you felt her grip tighten around your waist. “But, you should really listen when I tell you to take a break. You’re overworking yourself too much and it won’t be good in the long run.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into your shoulder, planting multiple kisses there against your skin as she held you tightly.

“I forgive you, Wanda,” you say, planting a gentle kiss on her temple before using your hands to cup her face to get her to look at you. “But, just so you know, if you ever yell at me like that again, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

Wanda nodded eagerly, determination shining in her eyes, “Yes ma’am.”

Wanda's features softened as she looked at you, feeling your hands still cupping her face gently, and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, spreading across her face like sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky. Time seemed to stand still as your soft touch grazed Wanda's face, your gentle hands tenderly cradling her cheeks.

She felt your delicate touch on her face, a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine. The soft pads of your fingers traced the contours of Wanda's cheeks, conveying a tenderness that reached depths untouched by words.

“So what are we watching tonight?” you asked, moving your hands from her face down to rest them on her shoulders.

Wanda's gaze flickered, almost instinctively, to your mouth, her eyes tracing the delicate curve of each syllable that escaped.

Shifting the hands that rested on your waist, Wanda felt herself leaning in closer towards you, her voice barely above a whisper, “Can I kiss you first?”

Your cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, your gaze shifting down, suddenly shy. You could feel Wanda's eyes fixed upon your lips, her gaze causing your heart to flutter. Sensing the intensity of Wanda's stare, your cheeks flushed, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You couldn't help but respond with a playful shake of your head. A mischievous glint danced in your eyes as you rolled them, a gentle tease to mask the tenderness she felt inside.

With a flicker of amusement, you leaned in closer, your voice laced with affectionate amusement, "Well, if you insist on asking, go ahead."

Wanda's smile grew, her heart swelling as she leaned into your touch. Her lips pressed against yours, sighing into them as her eyes fluttered closed. The touch of your lips against her own was pure bliss, a delicate mingling of warmth and softness that sent a wave of comfort and want coursing through Wanda's veins.

She missed this. She missed you. You tasted so good, and she missed kissing you. She began to think about how thoughtless she has been these past few weeks — how she could miss out on this and spend time with you instead of forcing herself to study.

After a while, your lips curved into a light smile against Wanda’s mouth, a soft giggle falling past your lips. You pulled away for a brief moment to catch your breath, but Wanda chased your lips, pressing hers against yours once again, moaning softly.

“Okay, okay,” you chuckled again when you pulled away once more, using your hands to keep her from coming closer.

“I want to keep kissing you, please,” Wanda said with a smile, grip tightening around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

You tilted your head slightly, meeting Wanda's eyes with a playful glimmer in your own.

“Ah, Wanda,” a mischievous smirk played on your lips as you wrapped your arms around her neck. “Hmm, I think it’s a little too early to be giving you rewards now, don’t you think?”

It was her turn for her cheeks flushed with shyness. Wanda's cheeks pinked, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips, breaking through any lingering tension. In that moment, a flicker of hope ignited, weaving through the darkness of the night before that had clouded your relationship.

In that lighthearted moment, the spark of your connection flickered back to life, and the room filled with the promise of forgiveness, growth, and love.

— navigation!

[lewkwoodnco]

Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)

warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them

word count: 2.6k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.

"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."

"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"

"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."

"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."

She handed out the mugs of tea.

"What pickup line?"

"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day." 

She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.

"S'that?"

"A bill."

"What bill?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Show me the bill."

"You're adorable."

It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.

"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."

He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.

"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."

That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.

"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."

"Not more terrible than you."

"I beg to differ!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes. 

"No thanks."

"How about a date?"

"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."

"Hmm, excuses, excuses."

"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."

"NO no no no please please please -"

She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."

"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."

She paused for a minute.

"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."

"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.

"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.

She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.

"Is everything okay?" 

He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Good one," she whispered.

He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.

"Did it hurt?"

"When I fell from heaven?"

"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.

"I was checking for broken bones."

"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"...concussion?"

"Nuh-uh."

That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.

It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.

It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.

As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."

"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"

"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"

"...huh?"

"Because you are building."

"What."

"I win."

He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face. 

"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."

He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"

"I...what?"

"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"

"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"

"You's got a Brooklyn accent."

"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.

"Just so you know...I do think you're building."

The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.

"I think you're building too."

She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.

She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.

"Oh. Hey."

He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."

She smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."

He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.

"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that." 

"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."

Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”

“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.

“I’ve already heard this one.”

“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”

She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.

“So. Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

“When you fell into my life.” 

He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.

But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.

His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope. 

"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."

She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”

“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[dear-satan]

league of legends

Leon S. Kennedy x fem!Reader

summary: You found a „cool” computer game for Leon and now you kneel under the table sucking his cock when he talks to his friends in the game

warning: +18 only, oral (male receiving), league of legends player

Each of us needed something to kill time, to occupy our own thoughts. Especially Leon. After his missions he was quite often absent. His thoughts still revolved around all those events he preferred not to tell you about, so that you wouldn't worry too much. Therefore, as a good girl, you tried to find something for him. Some kind of activity that would allow him to switch off his mind at least for a while and somehow relax him.... And we're not talking about sex, because you practically couldn't get out of your bedroom, and you had to function somehow and do your daily chores eventually. Therefore, you created - in your opinion - a long list of activities that could interest Leon.... But as it turned out, it wasn't all that easy.

At the very beginning you tried to convince him to read.... As it turned out, your beloved scolded this idea with the argument that this activity reminded him too much of the paperwork he did after completing each mission.

Failure number one.

Another idea was to unleash the artist in him. You bought a set of crayons and paints and arranged them in front of him along with a blank sheet of paper. At first Leon looked at you with raised eyebrows but took a crayon in pink and started scribbling something. You already thought you had hit the nail on the head, but when you saw the pink stick it immediately all your joy evaporated.... In addition, he signed this stick with your name, sending you only a sly smile....

Failure number two.

And then it only got worse....

Morning physical activity? He has workouts at work, after all.

Baking or cooking? At his first and last attempt, you had to buy a new mixer and a set of plates.

Handwork? He gave up when he couldn't thread the needle.

Crossword puzzles? And what is he, an old grandfather with dementia?

The last thing on your list was computer games....

You searched the Internet for interesting titles and so it worked out that you decided on a game called League of Legends. It looked really nice, had a lot of characters and was quite popular. Installing it took you a few seconds while sitting Leon in front of the computer and persuading him to create an account.... Well, it took a little longer. But it worked. He played the first game, then the second and third. You watched with a smile as he controlled some archer and killed little red creatures.... However, you didn't anticipate one thing.

The game became a literal time-waster, making you feel a bit neglected. Leon was really spending a lot of time in front of the computer which slowly started to bother you.... And your poor pussy was crying because of the lack of attention. Whenever you would come up to him and ask when he would finish having a craving for a bit of intimacy he would reply "five more minutes, I promise" and then he would come to you when you were sleeping deliciously. This was also the case this time.

"Baby please," you moaned as sweetly as you could, kissing his cheek. Your hands wandered under his navy blue shirt wanting to get his mind working at least a little. "Can't you pause it?" you tightened your thighs. You had been walking around with a wet pussy since morning and had given many signals for him to fuck you, but nothing worked.

"I can't doll. Soon, I'll finish and come to you, okay?" he only threw you a quick glance and a slight smile as his fingers moved across the glowing keyboard. Not after you.

"No, not okay." you puffed out your cheeks and crossed your arms over your chest "Since when is a stupid game more important than me?"

Leon only opened his mouth wanting to say something which ultimately only ended with a shake of his head. You heard some voices in his headphones at which you just rolled your eyes, feeling completely helpless. But then your gaze fell on the table and an idea was born in your head.

You crouched down, pretending to find something interesting on the floor, and neatly crawled under the table, sitting perfectly between its spread legs. You then thanked God that Leon liked to walk around the house in just a T-shirt and boxers. You placed your hand on his massive thigh, scratching it lightly and then kissed it from the inside. Leon seemed to ignore your actions until your lips kissed his half-hard cock through his dark boxers. His gaze immediately went to your face with a questioning look, at which you smiled innocently.

"Something wrong baby?" you asked dumbly kissing his boxers again. You heard him draw in air quickly through his nose and his toes flexed. "Come on, keep playing pretty boy."

Leon sighed heavily and you, completely ignoring the fact that his colleagues were further along on the links, got down to business. You slowly placed kisses on his cock, to which he twitched under the influence of this pleasure suppressed by the material. Your nails dug into his skin from time to time which caused additional sensations. However, the real challenge came when you slid your cool hand under his boxers. You knew very well that Leon was not one of the quietest people in bed, especially when you were giving him a blowjob. That's why you squeezed his penis with satisfaction and started pumping slowly, teaching him a lesson for ignoring you and your needs.

When pumping him didn't have the desired effect, you tilted back his boxers releasing his ruddy cock. Pre-cum dripped from the red head at which you fluttered your eyelashes and slowly licked off the transparent substance purring quietly.

"Fuck..." Leon's muffled moan brought an even bigger smile to your lips and his slightly panicked explanation in front of his colleagues in the headphones motivated you to continue.

You placed a kiss on its glowing tip and finally put its entire length in your mouth. You sucked your cheeks while moving your head at a laborious pace, running your hands up and down his thighs. You heard his breathing speed up considerably and he moved nervously. His toes were flexed. You took it out of your mouth to run your tongue over its entire length. Your gaze fell on his balls, which you also decided to lavish attention on. You sucked first one, then the other while still attending to his cock with your hand. Leon's sighs were like honey to your ears, especially as the mouse clicks became more and more erratic.

"I'm sorry b-but-" he snapped, biting his lip almost to the point of blood when you put him deep in your mouth again until he felt the walls of your throat "I'm having trouble with the i-internet..."

His cock twitched in your mouth, heralding that Leon was close to release. You sped up your movements, pumping him at his base. With your other hand, you gently squeezed his testicles. Leon, unable to contain himself anymore, quickly turned off the game, the laptop and pressed your head against his pelvis spilling into your mouth. You began to choke on his cum until your eyes were streaked with tears and your cheeks were burning from the heat.

"Y-you are terribly.. Impatient." he wheezed finally looking into your broken eyes as you swallowed his semen. "Such a good girl..."

"I told you to stop this silly game," you rose to place a passionate kiss on his soft lips and in the process give him a taste of yourself. Of course he returned the kiss, but it didn't last very long. In one deft motion, he pulled you out from under the table and easily threw you over his shoulder, giving you a slap on the buttock. "Leon!" you squealed with laughter.

"Come on doll, now let's play a real game." he snorted, directing his steps toward the bedroom.

[stvenzz]

he smells like the sun.

that was your first thought about megumi fushiguro. it was surprising, considering his dark-colored clothes. you’d have thought he’d stink like a virgin nerd, but he smells like a warm sunny day. sitting next to him has made you realize how much you miss the days when you’d just drive off to the beach and sit there.

cramped in a small aula, you found yourself sitting closer to him than you’d thought. megumi doesn’t seem to care though, as your elbow keeps knocking against his. “-and of course, i’d like to remind you all that the campus winter ball is coming soon!” the dean says into the mic, and a flurry of groans follow. “it will be held in this very aula, with festive, non-alcoholic drinks! it will be a chance for you to bond with your classmates and get to know the faculty!”

“bond, like he boned one of the students last year.” you mutter to yourself.

that catches his attention. you smell like cinnamon. yes, yeah. like cinnamon rolls. megumi thinks, as he glances at you. he tries to think of why he hasn’t seen you around before - how he doesn’t recognize the cinnamon from your hair. you smile at your own joke, and he can’t help but smile a little too. not that it was funny, but because he thought you were funny. and alluring. and cinnamon scented.

“that’s it for today. i am hoping to see you all next week, alright?” the dean announces, but half of the crowd has already left to attend their morning classes. you start to pack up and leave, megumi does too. you think it’s the last you’ll ever smell sunshine indoors. he’s thinking of the cinnamon buns in the canteen.

the next time you see sunshine - yes, that’s the nickname you’ve come up for him - is during a dorm check. you see, you’ve been staying at a dormitory for a year with someone studying physics. nerds like that don’t usually stay too long in dormitories - they get too homesick and have to go back to their mamas or end up renting some other place less noisy or dirty. you’re kind of jealous, actually. the dorms are most of the time filthy with the smell of weed or tears.

“excuse me,” you hear a male voice chirp outside your room. “[y/n]?” groaning, you get up and fix your shirt. it’s supposed to be my off day. what the fuck is the nerd doing here- oh. there he was. in a pale blue button down and puffer jacket, stood megumi fushiguro - sunshine. “oh. it’s… hi.” he mutters, a light pink shade blushing his cheeks.

unbeknownst to you, megumi had been searching for traces of your cinnamon shampoo all over campus. “hey, do you… smell that cinnamon shit?” megumi would ask his friends, to where they’d laugh and shake their hands.

“you shouldn’t be smoking here.” he says, with a surprisingly confident manner.

you immediately become conscious of the small cigarette in between your index and middle finger, and you raise your eyebrows. “who are you?” you ask, pretending not to enjoy the warmth of his scent. “the new resident assistant.” he says, pointing to his clipboard. his eyes are deadpan, but inside, his heart is beating a mile a minute - he finally knows! you were his mystery cinnamon smell, as creepy as that sounds. “i meant your name, dingus.” you roll your eyes, taking a long drag of the cigarette. at that, his eyes seem to falter in surprise, but he shrugs. “shouldn’t matter. you know i could get you kicked out, right? just for smoking.”

the threat gets you thinking - why were you trying so hard to resist this nerd? “i’m almost finished. be patient, will you?” you smile sweetly, and it’s hard for him not to smile back. there’s an unspoken tension between you two, and it’s not the bad kind. in fact, you feel like you could almost read his emotions and his deadpan face. megumi’s eyes scan around your room, looking for anything he could report.

“well,” megumi scribbles down something on his clipboard. “it’s nice to meet you, [y/n].”

your heart starts beating funny — he didn’t report you for smoking. usually, you’d be more careful when smoking in the dorms, but this time, with your roommate gone and the absence of classes, you decided to just do it once, in your room. oddly enough, that’s the exact time the newly-appointed resident assistant, megumi fushiguro, arrived at your room, looking to check on the conditions of your place.

“you too.”

you put out your cigarette and settle with the fact that you may just never know sunshine’s name.

★☆ a/n: little blurb i wrote when i wuz in love with megumi.

[sorchathered]

Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 10

A/N- Holy cow yall we are finally here! Our last chapter of this series, but not the end for Jake and Stormy! I will be checking in here and there, I have some one shots planned for them in the future and I’m excited for you guys to see how things have been going for them. Again thank you all so much for the love, I will always have a special place for this series since it’s my first baby. I want to give a massive shout out to @mamachasesmayhem for being my cheerleader from the very beginning of this series, proofreading for me and helping me brainstorm when I couldn’t push through the writer’s block. You have been amazing and I love you!! 😘

Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader (oc Stormy)

Warnings- language, PTSD, smut

It had been a little over a week since you showed up at Jake's doorstep, he still couldn’t believe that he’d finally gotten what he wished for. Waking up next to you every morning, getting to commute to work together, sneaking off to hook up during lunch, it was all so much more than he could’ve hoped for. You were so damn happy, you and Viper had integrated seamlessly into your new squad, some people like Harvard and Omaha you already knew but there were new players as well and everyone had been so welcoming. You had kind of dreaded running into Bradley and Erin but even that seemed to go well, they had welcomed their son Nicky a few months after your accident and he was now a full blown toddler, the spitting image of his father. Both of them had been friendly, Bradley welcoming you back and Erin saying she was so happy you’d recovered, you knew they truly meant it and graciously accepted their words.

Jake maintained that you were a saint but really it was just that you hadn’t truly loved Bradley, at least not in a way that would’ve lasted. Neither of you had been compatible, and it was so easy to see now that you’d been with Jake for nearly two years; when it was truly meant to be it was unlike anything else mattered but the one you loved, and you couldn’t imagine life without Jake beside you. The ring in the top of his closet seemed to mock him every day, he wanted it to be absolutely perfect but nothing seemed good enough for his girl, so he let it sit untouched for yet another week as he took you out to the arcade on Friday for what had quickly become a weekly date night.

You had put a bunch of ideas in a jar the week before, told him to shake it up and pick one and off you both went on whatever adventure was scribbled on the tiny note, tonight was burgers and laser tag and while he’d joked that he was too old for that he had been the one hunting you down to shoot you as he cackled, maybe he just needed to be reminded that things didn’t always have to be so stressful because he couldn’t remember when he’d had this much fun.

After a lazy Sunday beach day and dinner on the grill he’d curled up with you on the couch with a movie, you’d meant for things to be innocent but he smelled so good and you found yourself turning in his arms to sling your leg over his hip, making out with him like you were a pair of teenagers. He fucked you slow and steady into the leather couch while the movie droned on in the background, his mouth slotted against yours as his hands roamed your body, you loved to joke how insatiable he had become since you moved in but you knew you were just as gone for him, too many nights had been spent apart and now having him in close proximity all you wanted was to make him feel good. You both came undone together as you whispered I love you into his neck, and all Jake could think of was how perfect his life had become.

Monday morning before he’d even had his coffee he’d gotten a text from Maverick to head to Cyclone’s office as soon as he got in, he immediately felt his stomach drop just thinking of what that meant. Deployment, for who knows how long and who knows where, and ultimately having to say goodbye to you again after he just got you back. He couldn’t bear to say anything to you until he knew for sure, so he went through the motions business as usual as you both ate breakfast and headed to work, kissing you a little longer than normal before you parted but you didn’t seem to notice anything off, promising to meet him for lunch with a wink and kisses blown in his direction. His feet felt like lead standing outside of Admiral Simpson’s office, he knew nothing good was coming from this meeting and when he entered he could tell by the look on his face that it was exactly what he thought. “How long?” He said as Mav handed him his papers, he could feel the lump forming in his throat and wanted out of this room as soon as possible. “Nine weeks son, I’m sorry Jake I know Y/N just got here, but you’re the best for the task and if I could I’d let you stay. She’ll be alright, I’ll keep an eye on her, you just do the job and come home safe.” Jake nodded and shook his hand, bailing from the room as soon as he could, he swiped his phone open and dialed you as fast as he could, but he couldn’t seem to catch his breath and when you answered he was full blown panicking, choking out to meet him by the truck and hanging up as he collapsed into the seat of his f-150. He wasn’t ready to go, you’d only been back in the air for a few months and now he finally had you here where he could take care of you, why couldn’t someone else have been picked?

You’d run across the lot to find him with his head in his hands in the front seat, wrenching the door open to wrap your arms around him, anything to help him regulate his emotions. He finally seemed to settle his breathing, relaxing into your arms while you stroked his sandy hair and kissed his cheeks. “What’s going on baby? You’ve got me scared now, did something happen with your family? Is your mom ok?” He squeezed your hand and passed the papers off to you, you knew exactly what it meant and you felt cold all over. This was the job, and while you both loved it you hated this part more than anything. He would miss all the major holidays together in your new home, your heart broke a little at having to celebrate Christmas without him and he let you curl into his arms and cry.

He only had a week from getting his papers to shipping out and it felt like the time was speeding away from him and he couldn’t catch it. He’d been adamant that the two of you update your wills on Tuesday and you had vehemently opposed it, he was stressing a little too much for your liking and it left you unmoored. Deployments were a part of this life, and yes you’d had a serious scare this last time but that didn’t mean he needed to become doom and gloom over it, you were worried about his mindset going into this, he needed a clear head if he had any hope of getting through this unscathed.

Wednesday night he was meticulously going through his packing list, gear spread all over the living room when you stepped into the house with take out, the vein in his forehead that only came out when he was angry seemed to be a permanent presence as of late, he was all furrowed brows and tense shoulders and you couldn’t take it for one more minute. “Jacob Thomas Seresin!” You called from the kitchen and he snapped his head to attention, he hadn’t even noticed you had gotten home until you shouted, looking across the room to find you with a pizza box in one hand and you completely stripped to nothing as you leaned against the doorframe. You sauntered over to where he sat cross legged on the floor, dropping the pizza box on the coffee table as you lowered yourself onto his lap, he was already getting hard for you when you pressed your bare pussy to the front of his gym shorts, his face going completely blank, no sign of that pesky forehead vein in sight.

“Fuck Stormy what are you doing baby? I gotta get this-“ he stopped short with a gasp as you ground yourself into him as you yanked a little roughly on his hair, pulling his face to yours and sloppily licking into his open mouth, he seemed to short circuit for a moment but recovered quickly as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso and kissed you back with fervor. Yanking his head back again to look up at you he blinked glazed emerald orbs at you, you were frustrated with him, he could see that now but he couldn’t focus enough to ask with you on top of him like this, he thought about asking but thought better of it when you reached down and took his length from his shorts, thoughts scattering all over again when you got up on your knees and sunk down on him, you still hadn’t said anything but he couldn’t be bothered anymore, whining out your name as you took him to the hilt with your warm center clenching around him. You nibbled on his lip and rubbed your nose along his as you wrapped your arms around his neck and you could feel the tension leaving him as you held him close, you knew he’d needed it as much as you, just the closeness of your bodies pressed together was enough to soothe whatever had been ailing both your minds.

“I’m going to sit here with you just like this until you calm the fuck down and tell me what’s got you so amped up, you’ve been like an exposed nerve ever since you got your papers and I can’t let you leave like this. You’re scaring me Jake, you can’t leave for a mission distracted you know better than that. You’re the best pilot I’ve ever seen and they picked you to head this op. You have to tell me what’s going on, you just have to!” You cried out as tears began to pour from your eyes, your throat felt raw with the emotion bubbling out of you and you began to shake in his embrace, the combination of being so full of him and revealing your worry almost too much. He seemed to jolt out of whatever trance he’d been in at your tears, swiping at them as they ran down your cheeks and kissing you hard, he knew he’d been distant and stressed couldn’t begin to describe how he’d been feeling, but he hadn’t even thought about himself and how it could affect the mission; all his worries had been solely focused on you.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry, shh hey I’m here ok? I’ll tell you all of it, just don’t cry sugar. I can't stand knowing I hurt you.” He was kissing every bit of your face he could get to, smoothing his hands all over you as you began to come down and regulate your breathing. You couldn’t be closer if you tried and yet he still felt so far away, you needed more so you latched on to his mouth and tightened your arms around his neck, he let you ground yourself and calm down, just breathing you in until the tears finally stopped. “Baby, baby I love you so much, I’m sorry” he murmured against your lips, you nodded and sniffled a little but didn’t loosen your grip, rocking into him slowly knowing he’d know what you wanted. He groaned low in his throat and flipped the two of you over as he pressed you gently into the carpet, letting the hot languid kisses burn the two of you up, all heat and bodies grinding into each other, letting all the stress go and just being hopelessly in love.

Hours later after you were both fully sated and relaxed you laid naked in his arms and ate the cold pizza while he let out all the words he’d kept bottled up. “It hadn’t ever occurred to me that we could lose this, I mean our job is dangerous sure but some naive part of me just thought we were untouchable.”

“Until I got hurt” you said quietly.

“Until you got hurt. It felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me, every dream I’d ever had of us and our future could’ve been gone in an instant and I am terrified that something could happen to me and I’d leave you here alone.” He tightened his grip on your waist and you pressed a kiss to his chest, you knew exactly how he felt because you’d felt it all as you fell out of the sky during your ejection. But he couldn’t live in fear, it made him a liability to his fellow pilots and he was too damn good at what he did to let this destroy his confidence.

“You have to have faith baby, faith that you’ll make it through, that I’ll make it through and that we will get that long happy life that we want. I’m not going anywhere Jake, and I need you to be my cocky asshole pilot who thinks he’s God’s gift to the navy. Go be a badass and come home to me.”

You both laughed at that, he’d grown so much from that dickish holier than thou douchebag he had been when you first met, he was so much more level headed and mature. He promised he’d fight like hell and you knew he would.

The missions were grueling, the weather had been miserable lately and it made drills almost impossible, intel was scarce and worst of all he hadn’t been able to hear your voice in weeks. He had missed Halloween and thanksgiving, both squads had joined up for a potluck and you’d sent him a bunch of pictures, he was just grateful you weren’t doing this alone. He had gotten an email from his mother earlier in the week hoping he could talk to you about staying for the Christmas holidays and he couldn’t think of a better place for you to be. You loved Christmas, it used to annoy him because it wasn’t his cup of tea but somehow you’d softened him to it. He wrote to her quickly to tell her it was a great idea and to give you a call, when he’d had a knock on his door. Fritz leaned in with a look he knew all too well, it was time to fly out. He emailed you as well, telling you he loved you and then grabbed his gear and headed for the tarmac, he could only hope he’d be able to execute this and get home safely.

You stepped off the plane in Austin on December 18th to the entire Seresin clan in the lobby, Jake’s sisters and mom rushing forward to wrap you up in hugs and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of love, probably not since your grandmother had passed nearly a decade before. She would have adored Jake and his family, they spent the holiday season showing you all over town, hitting up all of Jake’s old haunts and embarrassing family pictures. Movie nights and Christmas cookie bake offs, family dinners and shopping trips with the girls; it had been so much fun and the Seresin’s had welcomed you with open arms, it felt like somehow you belonged here, the only thing missing was your 6 foot sandy blonde dreamboat boyfriend.

Correspondence had been spotty with Jake for a while, you’d gotten a FaceTime call after a mission and he had seemed grim, they’d lost a teammate to enemy fire and the weather had been abysmal, almost everyone had come down with the flu and he was miserable. He said he hoped he’d make it home by mid January and your heart broke all over again at not getting to spend Christmas together in your home, but he was adamant that the best place for you was with his family, and that next year would be a big blowout, he even agreed to let you buy any and every inflatable you wanted to cover the yard in Christmas cheer.

What you didn’t realize was that he was already on his way back to Coronado, he had coordinated with Phoenix to help him turn the house into a Christmas wonderland and would be back just in time for you to get home. He couldn’t let the ring sit any longer, he needed it on your finger now. After too many hours covering his house from top to bottom in snowflakes and Christmas lights, it was finally time for your plane to land. He was so nervous, he knew he didn’t have any reason to be, Javy had kept him up to date on when your plane landed and when he picked you up. Jake could barely sit still, so full of nervous energy knowing what was to come. Finally, he heard Javy’s truck pull into the drive and watched through the blinds as he helped you gather your luggage, even in leggings and his old UT Austin sweatshirt you looked like you’d stepped off a runway in his eyes, every bit his dream come true. This was it, when you came through the door he’d finally get to make you his forever, it had all been worth the wait.

Epilogue (Lover)

Jake Seresin masterlist

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @kmc1989 @pinkdaisies9285 @seitmai @seitmai-too @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @mygyn @jessicab1991 @jostan456 @86laura11 @dempy @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @dizzybee03 @its-the-pilot @nouis-bum @roosterforme @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer

[wandamaxim0f]

Brian 'Otis' Zvonecek one-shot — Peace

Words: 1.2k

Otis x Female reader

TW: the tiniest bit of angst and lots of fluff! Also: pregnancy, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks

A/N: finally dared to post this one! I really like how it ended up, but please keep in mind english is not my first language so there may be some mistakes. I wrote this one with Peace by Taylor Swift in mind, enjoy!

Taglist: @winchesterszvonecek

And you know that I'd (...) give you my wild, give you a child

Your hands were shaking as you went to grab your cup of freshly brewed tea, the chamomile smell soothing you before you could even take a sip. You did your best to focus on the way the tea tasted, and how the warmth went through your mouth and down your throat, really trying to keep yourself grounded and not give into the panic attack that you felt around the corner.

Silly panic attack. You felt the clink of your wedding band against the beige cup. Your wedding ring, of all things. You two were married, and had been for almost a full year. Turning your head, you found the fridge with all of its magnets and notes. Some were sweet and loving, both in your handwriting and his, knowing some days one left for shift without seeing the other.

“I love you”; “Stay safe”; “Come home to me” were some of the messages the both of you had left, a reminder you had someone waiting for you after your shift at the Intelligence Unit, and he had someone waiting for him after his shift at firehouse 51.

A photo from your wedding day caught your eye. You two were married. He wouldn't leave. He wouldn't step back. He had literally signed up for this. He had scribbled down his signature on a paper that was securely put away on a folder full of important documents, and he had vowed to love you until death do you part.

The door opening startled you, even when you had woken up early to talk to him. Not that you could really sleep, anxiety keeping you awake and turning and tossing in the bed sheets; the smell that came from his shirt that you were wearing doing nothing to calm down your mind.

“Baby” called Otis, as soon as he closed the door and saw you sitting down at the kitchen island. He knew something was going on. Usually, on your days off, he would just get home and find you asleep in bed, not drinking tea in the kitchen.

Immediately, he dropped his bag and his arms found your figure, pulling you into his warm embrace and stepping in between your legs, holding you to his chest as his hands caressed your back in the way only he knew how.

“Are you okay?” he asked, already knowing you weren’t, by the way you clung to him, embracing his body with your arms and legs, and let out a shaky breath against his chest. Still, he gave you the choice to not speak about what had you up on your day off, not until you were ready.

You split from his hug, knowing you wouldn't speak if you found refuge between his strong arms. “We need to talk” you said, finding his now worried brown eyes.

Otis swallowed audibly, and a neutral expression took over his face, trying to hide the fact he was terrified. Were you going to leave him? Was your marriage over? Or did it still stand a chance? Had he messed up? Forgotten a date? Forgotten your birthday? Valentine's? Anniversary? He quickly crossed those options, your anniversary was still a month away, he already had the reservations for the weekend getaway done, and your birthday had been three months ago, he had gotten you that necklace you liked. And February was still away, so there was no chance he had forgotten Valentine’s.

“I’m sorry” he blurted out, his heart shattering at the idea of letting you down, of disappointing you “I don’t know what I did, but I will make it up to you. Please don’t leave me” he was not above begging, not when it may make the difference between you staying in his life or giving up on your marriage. Not when you were the single best thing that had ever happened to him.

Your heart melted into your chest, and tears gathered in your eyes. His forced neutral expression switched into a worried one when a tear escaped your right eye, and his thumb was quick to catch it. Whatever it was, it could not be good if you were this distraught. He had seen you in some of your worst moments, and he could count on one hand the times he had witnessed such distress in your pretty eyes.

“Babe?” he called, preparing himself to beg you to talk to him if it came down to it. You were worried, and he wanted, he needed to help you out.

“I’m pregnant” you whispered, your voice so low, Otis thought he had misheard you.

“You... what?” He exhaled, trying as hard to not let his hand find your lower abdomen, since he wasn’t sure you were happy.

Sure, the two of you had discussed starting a family, but that conversation had been held ages ago, at the early stages of your relationship. He remembered you saying you wanted to have kids, and how that was a deal breaker to you; and he remembered getting home and pestering Joe about how he had found the one.

Had you not seen his small smile, you would've freaked out. But he was smiling, and his eyes were shining with tears, so that was a good sign, right?

“I’m pregnant” you repeated, louder this time, and allowing your own hand to find your nonexistent bump.

Otis let out a high pitched scream, before hugging you tightly. His arms pulled you closer and out of the kitchen stool, picking you up and spinning you around the living area, excitement washing over him. Finally, he put you down, and his hands cradled your face, whipping away any tears.

“We’re having a baby” he whispered, happiness dripping from his words, before he started peppering your face with kisses.

“We’re having a baby” you repeated, giggling at his affection, your hands now holding his biceps.

You couldn’t understand how you could’ve been that panicked, your husband wanted desperately to be a father, but only with you. Now you let yourself feel the happiness that you had put away on a cage in your heart, and the world felt more colorful than ever.

The next morning, as you untangled from your still asleep husband, you made your way to the kitchen to get some breakfast. A new note on the fridge caught your eye, and butterflies came alive in your stomach.

Last night, Otis and you had sat down and tried to guess an estimated date in which your baby would join you, a date he had scribbled down on a piece of paper before adding “Best day ever”. Next to it, a note he must've put up while you headed towards the bedroom “Get on desk duty”.

Years ago, the idea of desk duty would’ve killed you, hating the idea of being away from the action and the adrenaline it provided, but now you were beyond happy to spend your whole day at the district.

“You two were leaving without saying goodbye?” Otis’s sleepy voice called out as he walked into the kitchen. Without saying another word, he sank to his knees and kissed your abdomen “Leaving without saying goodbye to your dad is actually kind of rude. Guess your momma and I will have to teach you some manners once you’re out of there, bub” he spoke, his hands firm on your hips.

You laughed, a hand coming to caress his hair, and he looked at you with nothing but adoration and love shining in his eyes. How could you have been so worried? You would be okay. The three of you would be okay.

[sadhours]

ABSENTEE - 1

next chapter • masterlist • my requests are open!!

my new series!!! i promise the finale to wicked sensations is coming soon but in the mean time, enjoy this :) it’ll be mostly Billy centric, not terribly romantic and it takes place before he moves to hawkins

content warnings: minors dni 18+, violence, child abuse (physical and verbal), homophobic slur, cannabis use, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, blow job

word count: 6k+

///.

The rooftop is his favorite place to be. It’s calm, though you can hear the sounds of the city below you. Billy likes the whooshing of the cars on the highway and the drunken chatter of college kids bar hopping. Soothing. Happy sounds. Not like the ones he hears at home. The second he’s through the door, Neil’s berating him for whatever he’s stewed on while Billy was gone. So suffice to say, Billy stays out of the house most days and nights. The grace period from having Max and Susan is over and Neil isn’t hiding who he truly is anymore. As Billy rolls his spliff, he remembers Susan’s reaction the first time his dad had smacked him upside the head in front of her. It was unmoving, her face stoic and a look in her eye like Billy deserved it. He can’t even remember what prompted it, but that was the glorious thing about Neil’s fists, they didn’t need a reason. Billy could have moved the dish soap in the kitchen a centimeter and that would be enough to set his dad off. So why the hell would he be home when he could be anywhere else?

Absent. That’s what Max called him this morning. Just like his mother, he thought. It was true. Billy was numb to it all. He could be there but not really. Auto pilot, doing what’s expected but without reason behind it. He’s floating through life without real meaning to it. Billy hopes he’ll find something worth living for. Shit, most sixteen year olds have no true passion for life but no other kids have Neil as a father. He’s pulled out of his thoughts when his buddy, Reggie changes the cassette in the boombox. He’s supposed to be having a good time, he reminds himself, not thinking about how bad he doesn’t want to be at home. Billy licks up the side of the paper to seal the spliff, reaching for his zippo and lighting it up. He inhales deeply, letting his eyelids close with the motion as the sharp smoke fills his lungs and immediately relaxes him. Fuck, weeds awesome. Reggie’s been on this New Wave kick and Billy can’t stand it, unless he’s stoned. When he’s stoned, all music is pretty rad. So the Joy Division cassette isn’t the worst he’s heard. It fits Billy’s mood pretty well. He won’t admit it, the goddamn hopelessness of the lyrics hit him square in the chest and make him feel a little less alone.

“The girls are taking forever,” Reggie complains and Billy agrees. He could really use a beer, cotton mouth kicking in far too quick for his liking.

With a shrug, Billy peers over the edge to see if he can get a glimpse of you guys. You’ve been dating a couple months at this point, but you’ve been friends for years. Right after Billy’s mom left and Neil uprooted him from the house they shared to an apartment in the heart of the city. Billy misses that house and that apartment. You lived in the complex and he’d met you while he was graffitiing the apartments playground slide with a sharpie. He thinks he was drawing a crude pair of tits but he can’t remember, knows for sure he’d scribbled his favorite swear words at the time all over it. You guys were eleven years old. You came up to him and asked if you could draw something. You drew a cartoonish dick and right then, Billy decided you were gonna be friends.

Then Neil met Susan a few years later when he was fourteen. They moved quick and got married a month after meeting. He hates moving, so he wasn’t thrilled when Neil and Susan insisted on finding a three bedroom house closer to Max’s school. Luckily, Billy didn’t have to change schools but the house was in a cookie cutter suburb instead of the city. Plus, you weren’t a two minute walk away anymore and Neil got to keep him on a shorter leash.

“Beeeer!!!” you and Cindy, Reggie’s girlfriend cheer in unison as you climb up onto the roof through the fire escape.

“Finally,” Reggie grunts, snatching the spliff from Billy’s fingers and extends his opposite hand for a beer.

“Why are you listening to this depressing shit?” Cindy complains as she hands him an Old Milwaukee, “We’re supposed to be partying.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad,” Billy shrugs as you nestle yourself next to him on the edge of the roof, he wraps his arm around you and accepts the beer you offer.

Cindy gapes, “You’re the last person I’d expect that from.”

Billy doesn’t respond. Instead, he cracks his beer open and looks over the edge of the roof again. He sees a handful of girls stumbling beneath and he wonders if he hawked a loogie down could he hit them and what would they do. Saliva fills his mouth in anticipation but he decides against it. They’re pretty and their reactions probably won’t be all that exciting. He’s confident about his aim, though, figures he could land it on one particular girls’ cleavage. He smirks to himself as he brings the can to his lips and averts his eyes to his friends, looking for the spliff. It’s in Reggie’s hands again so Billy leans over and snatches it.

“Stop bogarting, asshat,” he snaps.

“Relax,” Reggie mumbles, “we tried passing it but you’re too busy checking out the chicks on the street.”

“I wasn’t checking them out,” Billy defends himself.

“Sure,” you sigh next to him before standing up and making your way to sit on the torn up couch Reggie and Cindy are lounging on.

Billy rolls his eyes, taking a hit off the spliff before looking down at his watch. The football game is probably almost over and Neil’s most likely dozing to sleep, drunk off a twelve pack. But Billy doesn’t intend to go home for a while, well after midnight. It’s summer after all. He could probably crash at Reggie’s tonight. It’s a good excuse to spend time with him because usually, Billy has to steer clear of him during the school year. Neil would kill him if he’d seen Billy hanging around a black kid. He’d probably kill Reggie too. In the summer it’s safe, but during the school year, his curfew is strict and Neil would rather Billy hang out at home. He brings friends around sometimes, but never Reggie.

You keep giving Billy an angry look. Max’s words this morning ring in his ears. Absent. Billy knows that’s why you’re mad at him too. You’d had the conversation a hundred times this summer alone. He doesn’t put enough effort into the relationship, you told him. Asked him if he wanted to go back to being just friends. But Billy assured you that he didn’t, promised to do better. He’s always being told he isn’t good enough. By everyone in his life. So much so that he’s gone numb to that too. Figures the least he can do is accept that he’s never going to be what people want him to be. It’s easier that way, anyways. Hard to let it get to him if he just doesn’t give a shit anymore.

The thing is, Billy just turned 16 and Neil’s expecting him to work this summer so you’ll just have to deal. He’s excited to get a job, excited to save up his money so he can get a car. He got his license the day after his birthday, figures by the end of August he should have enough to buy a beater car. Something he can fix up real nice. Something that’s his, proof he can accomplish a goal, proof he’s not such a goddamn waste.

He was supposed to be job hunting today but he didn’t. He got up early enough to surf, got home and showered, put on his fanciest button up that was a hand-me-down from his dad and told him he was off to fill out applications. He got stoned at Reggie’s house and the two of them watched TV for hours until Cindy called. Billy can do it tomorrow. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a job. Maybe he can work at the surf shop. The owner likes him a lot. He’s even talked about Billy becoming a team rider. Billy tries not to get his hopes up about that. Neil doesn’t care for surfing, tells Billy it’s a waste of time. Not a skill for the real world. That’s what Billy likes about surfing though. It drags him far away from reality, his mind can finally relax when he’s catching waves.

He smokes the spliff until it’s a burnt roach, tossing it over the roof and stands up. Pacing around, he ignores the conversation the three of you are having as he focuses in on the buzz from the weed. He can feel the air better, feels like he can breathe better than ever before. He stares up at the moon, admiring how the clouds skate passed it. He lays on the floor, hands behind his head and focuses on the craters he can see in the moon. It’s full and he can kind of see a face in the craters, if he tilts his head it also looks like a little girl with a triangle dress.

Suddenly, he feels a hand on his stomach and he turns to see you, sitting beside him with a curious smile. He returns it with lopsided one of his own.

“Get bored of ‘em?” he asks, softly.

You turn to look at Reggie and Cindy, his eyes follow to see the couple making out.

“Ah,” he purses his lips, “It’s that portion of the party, is it?”

You nod and Billy pats his hips, signaling you to climb into his lap. Once you do, he’s wrapping a hand around your neck and luring you down, lips hovering. You feel his teeth as he smiles before placing a tentative kiss to your lips. It starts slow, lazy from his dazed, stoned state. Billy prefers kissing when he’s high, doesn’t much care for it when he’s sober. But for some reason, in this altered state, it doesn’t feel as gross to him. Billy never tells you he doesn’t like kissing or that he thinks it’s kind of disgusting. When he’s horny enough, it’s not gross and he’ll lick into your mouth all sloppy as long as his dicks inside you. It’s not his foreplay though.

He can hear Reggie grunting and groaning. He doesn’t have to look over to know Cindy’s going down on him. She’s loud about it and Billy doesn’t admit that it turns him on. Billy thinks it must turn you on too because you start grinding your hips against his. Plus, he figures Reggie and Cindy won’t care much if they started it in the first place. Billy always feels a bit strange about the lack of boundaries, the fact that the four of you mess around in front of each other. Figures that you all get it when you can and it’s not often you guys are secluded enough to pull it off.

Billy grabs your hair to pull you away, moving his hands to undo his belt and you get the hint, lifting yourself up just enough to get your underwear off and Billy’s jeans and briefs down to his knees. You hold your skirt up, looking down at his pulsing erection settled against his stomach. He wraps his fingers around the base and spits onto his other hand, smearing it all over the head before lining it up with your entrance. You gasp when you feel him prodding, eyebrows knit together in desperation and Billy loves that. Feels like he’s done something good to make you want him so badly. You slowly lower yourself until he bottoms out and Billy grunts softly, pressing his palms to yours and lacing your fingers. It’s sweet, makes your whole body fill with adoration for him. His eyes are barely open, eyelids looking heavy while his mouth hangs open just enough for you to see his tongue pressing to his bottom lip. A roll of your hips and his tongue rolls against his bottom lip, a lewd moan tumbling out of him that has your toes curling in your shoes. Through all the bullshit he seems to drag you through, you wouldn’t ever give this up. He gets you fired up like no one else could. Billy’s a literal wet dream come to life and you have the fucking privilege of being with him. The slight curve of his cock is practically designed to fit you perfectly, hooking just right to nail that wonderful, spongy part inside of you. But you think you could cum just from looking at him, sometimes. Or hearing his voice.

You bend down to whisper in his ear, “You feel so good.”

He lets go of your hands to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling your bodies flush as he groans breathy against your ear. You press gentle kisses along his jaw, bouncing in his lap over and over. He snakes his hands up your shirt and scratches down your back, arching his own which only buries him deeper inside of you. Deep enough he hits your cervix and you yelp. Billy chuckles softly before easing up, his hands steadying at your hips.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear.

“It’s okay,” you reply softly, pulling back to look down at his face. He looks fucked out, totally blissful and all the stress and worry usually living there is gone. It makes your insides turn. You’d give absolutely anything to do that for him all the time. He starts thrusting his hips up at you, his hands holding your hips still so he can take control. He does it whenever he’s close and you’re almost there too so you keep staring down at his face, trying to commit it to memory like you haven’t seen it a hundred times, like you don’t see his face whenever you close your eyes.

Billy’s eyes open slowly and he maintains eye contact with you, his mouth open while pants and soft moans flood out of it. Just the look and sound of him is enough and your orgasm comes crashing through you.

“Billy,” you gasp, thighs shaking against his hips while you involuntarily hump against him.

He smiles then, all lips and no teeth but looking satisfied. You don’t get the opportunity to completely ride through it, he pulls out of you and you’re quick to move down and take his cock in your mouth, eyes wide as you look up at him. He gives a pathetic thrust and clenches his teeth, squeezing his eyes closed as he shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow and pull back, licking up the last of it that dribbles out of his slit. He whimpers and it sends another wave of arousal to your center.

With a sigh, he pulls his pants back on and hands you your discarded panties. You awkwardly pull them back on and reach your hand out to help your boyfriend back up. Billy kisses you softly before wandering over to the sixer and pulling another beer from it. He stands taller now, relaxed and you’re relieved you can help him in some way. Even if it seems like only sex.

Billy and Reggie share a look before the two of them burst out into giggles, Cindy rolls her eyes but immediately shoots you a pleased look. She enjoys it and so do you. Billy makes his way back to the edge of the rooftop, sitting down and lighting up a cigarette. He keeps peering over and it’s making you nervous. You don’t know what he’s thinking but sometimes you worry Billy imagines jumping off. What you don’t expect is to hear the sound of him hawking up a loogie.

“Billy,” you warn, standing up.

Reggie’s standing up with you but with excitement as he stumbles over and peers down with Billy.

Billy spits down and you hear a man from below shouting.

“Billy! Fucking hell,” you scold but your boyfriend is in a laughing fit, holding his gut as the careless sound rips through him.

Absent.

“I’m gonna beat your fucking face in!” the guy from the street shouts up at him.

“I’d like to see you try!” Billy replies.

“Then get your ass down here!”

Billy’s up to his feet, the excitement of violence bubbling through him as he makes his way to the fire escape. He ignores the protests from you and his friends, though the three of you follow him down. Billy chugs the rest of his beer once he’s on the ground, tossing the empty can and puffing his chest up as he stalks over to the guy.

Billy’s in shape, he spends a lot of time lifting weights but that’s not what makes him dangerous. It’s the fact that he doesn’t really give a shit and all the pent up anger from the abuse he faces. The guy he nailed with his phlegm is bigger but Billy doesn’t seem scared. He yells out, fists clenched tight at his sides as they meet face to face. Billy’s grinning wide, he always looks so happy when he’s about to get in a fight. It fucking worries you.

The guy swings first but Billy dodges it and then his fist is connecting with the dudes jaw with a horrific pop. The guy reels, like he wasn’t expecting so much power behind a teenagers fist. He stumbles but is back quick, socking Billy in the face and you wince, knowing that he’ll have one helluva shiner.

Billy laughs, “Is that all you got, fucker?”

Another punch and the guys on the ground but Billy’s on him in an instant, delivering blow after blow to the guys face before Reggie’s pulling him off.

“Fuck!” he screams out, eyes lit up with something that terrifies you. He enjoys this too much. You reach for his wrist and pull, dragging him along as the four of you run down the block. The dudes knocked out but his friends chase after you guys. They’re not fast enough and you lose them after cutting through an alley and ending up in a deserted plot of land. It’s mostly dirt but the occasional construction debris. There used to be a motel here but it’s got plans to become yet another parking lot. Billy screams out again, cheeks split with a devious smile.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” you yell at him, pushing against his chest. He turns to you with that eerie smile and you notice his nose is bleeding.

“That was fucking rad, darling,” he gushes, “I totally knocked his fucking lights out!”

“It wasn’t rad!” you argue, “God damn you’re such a fucking child sometimes!”

Billy laughs, but it’s laced with venom, “And you’re fucking boring.”

The word hits you hard, breaking your heart in an instant. You sniffle, pissed off with yourself that you’re crying so easily. Billy could be mean, to everyone around him. You knew that when you started dating. But it still hurts. You wanted to be an exception to that, but you realize how foolish that was.

“You’re fucking crying?” he scoffs, “Jesus Christ.”

You turn on your heel and start walking, Cindy me Reggie are quick to follow you but when you’re a block away and you turn back, Billy’s not following you. He’s wandered in the other direction.

///.

Billy finds the spare key under the mat and tries his absolute best to keep quiet as he unlocks the door. Susan should’ve got his dad to bed by this hour but he doesn’t want to risk it. He slowly opens the door, stepping inside and unzipping his boots before taking them off and leaving them by the door. He peers into the living room. Shit. Neil isn’t in bed. It’s nearly two a.m., he and Susan must’ve had an argument. Billy closes the door as quietly as he can before turning the deadbolt. He tiptoes to his room, turning the knob cautiously. Once he’s inside, he flicks the light on and starts to undress. He opens his closet and grabs out a pair of grey sweats to change into. As he’s changing, he looks into the mirror, seeing the dried blood under his nose and the beginnings of a gnarly bruise under both eyes. He presses his thumb to the bridge of his nose and hisses. It’s not broken but fuck, it hurts. He sighs. He needs to clean it up. Billy desperately needs a shower but it’s too late. He’d definitely wake his dad.

Carefully, he sneaks out of his room and into the hallway bathroom. He flicks the light on and gets a better look at his face. Billy barely recognizes himself. It’s a problem he’s been having for years. He knows that’s his face staring back at him but he can’t help but feeling like he doesn’t know his reflection. Like the icy blue eyes staring back at him belong to a stranger. He quietly cleans the blood from under his nose but when he opens the medicine cabinet to grab his toothbrush, a slew of pill bottles and soaps fall out of it and land into the sink with a loud clatter. Max had probably haphazardly shoved her things inside. Billy closes his eyes and shuts off the light, steadying his breathing and tries to hear for a sign that he’s woken his father up.

Footsteps, loud ones clamber up the hallway and Billy braces himself. He hates this house, there’s no lock on the bathroom. There’s no locks on any doors besides the master bedroom. The door swings open and the light is switched on. Billy’s met with the angry face of his father.

“What in gods name are you doing at this hour?” Neil asks, tone cloaked in outrage. “Did you just get home?”

“No sir,” Billy replies, voice cracking.

Neil surveys his face, “You reek of pot, boy.”

Billy doesn’t respond to that, just stares blankly at his domineering father. There’s no point. He definitely smells like weed and no matter what he’d say, the next row of actions is a guarantee. Neil shoves him into the towel rack, the edge of it nicks Billy’s bare back and he can feel the blood drip down. He keeps still, looking stoically up at his dad. Neil backhands him, Billy’s face turns with the force of it and Neil grabs his throat, shoving him harder into the rack which just scraps Billy’s back up more.

“You have no regard for anyone but yourself. We’ve talked about this, huh? Respect and responsibility. Simple shit, but you’re too fucking stupid or selfish to learn,” Neil hisses.

His fathers grip tightens just enough where Billy struggles to breath but he knows his dad’s too pussy to actually kill him. He chokes out a sob, can’t help himself even if he knows it’ll only piss Neil off more. Another smack to the face, another shove into the rack and Neil knees him in the stomach.

“You’re crying? You goddamn pussy. Man up!”

From the ground, Billy seethes. He knows this will seal his fate and he’ll be forced into makeshift solitary confinement but he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s overflowing with hatred for the man towering over him.

“Fuck you,” he says behind clenched teeth.

Neil kicks him once more before grabbing a fistful of Billy’s curls and pulling him back to his feet. His dad looks him square in the face before head butting him. The sharp jolt of pain rings through him, his eyebrow feels hot and then Billy feels blood before he sees it when it drips into his eye. Neil drags him by his hair, through the hall and kicks Billy’s door open, the wood slamming into the plaster of the wall and no doubt leaving a hole from the doorknob. He shoves his son into the room.

“You’re goddamn worthless. I give and give but you refuse to fucking be respectful. You’re grounded, I’ll let you out when I can look at you again. Goddamn faggot,” he spits and slams the door back closed, Billy can hear as he fastens the chain lock he’s drilled into the outside of Billy’s door.

Billy holds his sobs, reaching for whatever material is closest to him on the floor and holds the dirty t-shirt to the split in his eyebrow. He falls asleep on the floor like that.

When he wakes up, the t-shirt has fused to his face with the dried blood and he’s reminded of the beating as he peels it off. Except it opens the wound back up and he groans, pressing a clean part of the shirt back to it. His heads pounding, his whole body aches. As he stands up to look in the mirror, he sees the bruising taking place on his stomach and ribs. His face is bruised but not from his dad. He’s too scared to look at his eyebrow, the pulsing pain and blood tells him he definitely needs stitches and he’ll be ending up with a gnarly scar instead. He peers out of his window to see Neil’s truck and Susan’s station wagon aren’t in the driveway but he can hear someone’s out in the living room. His throat burns and his mouth feels like it’s got cotton in it. Glancing around the room, he sees he’s got no water stashed away. Max.

Billy sighs, trudging over to the door and opening it as much as the chain lock will allow.

“Max,” he calls out, voice hoarse and fucking pathetic but his step sister is quick to run down the hall. Billy can see her red hair flying before he can see her blue eyes looking up at him. “Water, can you get me some water?”

She nods and disappears. Billy lays on his bed, closing his eyes while he waits. He hears the stool slam against the floor and he sits up, waiting for Max to climb up it so she can reach the lock. Once she does, she scoots the stool again and opens the door. She hands him the tall glass of water and he gulps it down in record time. He extends it out to her, “More?”

Max nods but she takes longer to return this time. Billy sees why when she’s holding the first aid kid they store under the bathroom sink. Billy gives her a half-hearted smile, she can be a little shit but she does care. It makes Billy feel weird, his initial instinct is to push her away and say he’s fine but he doesn’t. He lets her set the first aid kit on his bed and open it, she pulls out the peroxide and grabs the shirt from his face. She bunches it up against his eye and pours the peroxide on the wound on his eyebrow. It tingles but the sting is dull. She pats it dry before digging through the box for butterfly bandages. They stay silent as she dresses the wound. She’s a smart little fucker, Billy hadn’t even thought about asking for the first aid kit. She stands back and puts her finger against her chin, checking over her work before nodding to herself.

“Quick,” she says, “Use the bathroom before they get home.”

Billy nods, he hadn’t thought of that either. He stands and puts his hand on the top of her head, rustling her hair up. “Thanks, kiddo,” he mumbles before trudging into the bathroom.

As he steps inside, the events from last night flash around in his head but he pushes them away. He lifts the lid on the toilet and relieves himself. When he’s washing his hands he gets a good look at his reflection in the fluorescent lighting. He looks like shit. He aches for a shower but that’s too risky plus he’s not looking forward to the cuts on his back stinging from the water. He dries his hands and makes his way back to his room, where Max is waiting outside the door. Once he’s inside, he can hear her fastening the lock back up and jumping off the stool. Billy decides to tidy his room while he’s stuck in here, pressing play on his stereo so he can drown his thoughts in heavy guitar riffs and Vince Niel’s voice. After his rooms all clean, he shuts off the stereo and looks for a book to read to pass the time. He has no idea how long he’ll be trapped in here. Sometimes it’s a day, sometimes it’s a week.

///.

You haven’t heard from Billy in two days. It’s been two days since your little fight in the field and you’re getting worried. Billy was pretty adamant about you not coming over unannounced but the landline has been giving you nothing but a busy tone every time you try to call. You’re out of options and that’s why you take the bus out into the suburb and walk to his place. Neil’s truck is outside, along with his stepmoms car but you’re determined to check on him.

The wood of the door is warm on your knuckles as you scrap against it. Thankfully, Susan answers the door but her face falls and he looks back into the house before meeting your eyes.

“Billy’s not here,” she says.

“Where is he? I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days,” you reply, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“He’s out looking for a job,” it’s a lie. You can see it on her face. Susan’s a horrible liar, just like Max is.

You chew on your bottom lip before trying your luck, “Bummer. He must be mad at me still. Could I use your bathroom? Long bus ride out here.”

Susan heaves a sigh before stepping back and letting you inside, “Be quick.”

“Course,” you say and start making the descent down the hall.

“He’s not here!” Neil yells after you which causes you to stop, the sound of his voice always makes your skin crawl.

“I know, just using the bathroom,” you reply, eyes turning to Billy’s bedroom door in the hallway. The chain lock is fastened and your heart sinks into your stomach. You know Billy’s been trapped in there for days. He’s never told you this happens to him but when you’d noticed the lock, you connected the dots.

You lock yourself in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror as you try to somehow telepathically communicate with your boyfriend. You so desperately want to call CPS on Neil but the first time Billy admitted his dad hit him, he made you promise and swear that you wouldn’t. Billy assured you he could handle it, that he didn’t want to be stuck in the foster system. I only have 5 more years, you remember him telling you. With a sigh, you finally sit down on the toilet and relieve yourself. It was a long bus ride. After washing your hands, you make your escape.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Hargrove,” you call out to Neil, hoping Billy can hear you and know you’re here.

“Whatever,” Neil mumbles with a wave of his hand.

///.

Once it’s midnight, you figure it’s safe and you stalk over to the window with the black grocery bag tucked tight against your side. The windows have bars on them, you’ve overheard Susan calling them decorative but they’re definitely a safety precaution, to ward off potential burglars. You can’t help but think about the way they make Billy’s room just that much more of a prison. God, if you could save him from this shit you would. This is the least you could do.

The bars are far enough apart that you can reach your arm through it. You quietly knock against it and step back to wait for your boyfriend to appear behind the sheet he uses as a curtain.

Billy snakes himself between the sheet and the window, his eyebrow is slit open and there’s some gnarly bruising under his eyes. You give him a sympathetic smile, lifting the plastic bag. Billy opens the window slowly, careful not to make too much noise.

“Hey, little lady,” he purrs, laying the charm on thick even though he’s a goddamn prisoner in his own fucking house. “What’re you doing here?”

You smile at him, you’ve found it’s best if you act like everything’s normal, “Wanted to give you some goodies and see your face. I miss you.”

“I miss you,” he reaches out and pokes your nose. “Whatcha get me?”

Peeking into the bag, you pull out the Mickey’s 40 you’d purchased and hand it over. Billy moans at the can, grinning from ear to ear. Next you hand him a pack of Marlboro Reds and he gives you another moan.

“Fuck, I could marry you,” he takes the pack and rips it open, lighting a smoke immediately.

You bite your lip, “Do it.”

He chuckles, leaning his forehead against the metal bars, “Maybe one day I will. Then you’ll really be sorry.”

You giggle softly and pull out a pack of sour candies for him. He places them down on his floor and smiles at you, “Think we could manage a kiss through these?” his fingers tapping against the bars.

“We could try,” you suggest, stepping closer and smiling up at him.

You manage to touch your lips to his but it’s wildly uncomfortable and you both strain your lips to do it. Billy sits on the sill and reaches his hand out to hold yours.

“Sorry about the other night… I was being a dickhead but hey,” he motions to his face, “got my punishment for it.”

“Billy,” you squeeze his hand, “You didn’t deserve that. You never do… I don’t even care about the dumb fight we had.”

He shrugs but moves his hand to your chin, stroking his thumb against it, “It’s nothing new. I shouldn’t have come home that night but ya know, I didn’t know where else to go.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have ran off like that…”

“It’s cool, I’ll probably get a sick ass scar from this one,” he points to his eyebrow.

You shake your head but smile at him.

“You really gave it to my old man today,” he grins.

You cackle, “Did I?”

“Oh, yeah! I think the kindness kills him more than if you were to ignore him. How’d you get into the house, though?” he takes a long drag from his smoke before handing it over.

You take it and smile, “I told Susan I had to pee.”

“Oh!” his eyes widen and he disappears behind the sheet again, only to reappear with a Gatorade bottle full of what you can only assume is piss. “I know it’s gross but could you uh, dump this for me?”

You take it from him carefully and hand him back the cigarette, “Why don’t you just piss out the window, Billy?”

“In broad daylight? I can’t,” he says, sounding ashamed as you unscrew the cap and dump the bottle out into the bushes next to you. You screw the lid back on and hand it back through the bars.

“I fucking hate your dad,” you mumble.

“You and me both, babe,” he goes back behind the curtain to put the bottle back. When he returns, he’s got a folded up piece of paper and he passes it to you. “I drew ya something, don’t look at it until you’re far away from me.”

You giggle and slide it into your back pocket, “Can we try another one of those kisses?”

Billy chuckles, nods and you guys attempt it again. When he pulls back, he wiggles his eyebrows, “You could probably suck my dick through here.”

“You wanna attempt that but you won’t pee out the window,” you raise an eyebrow but smile back at him. “I’m not gonna blow you through your window. Nice try though.”

Billy laughs and pokes your nose, “I better get to bed. I’m sure I’ll be released soon enough and I can maybe take you out or something.”

“That sounds nice,” you smile warmly at him.

“A thank you for the necessities,” he holds up the beer and pack of smokes.

I’d do anything for you, you want to say but it dies in your throat. Billy doesn’t really get mushy with you so you’ve been scared to tell him just how infatuated with him you are. Sometimes he’s like a skittish dog and you feel you haven’t completely earned his trust yet.

“Stay safe, Billy.”

“Eh, that’s no fun. See ya later, little lady,” he smirks with the pet name before closing his window.

As you begin your journey down the street, you remember the paper folded up in your pocket and you quickly pull it out. Unfolding it, you see lines but you’re confused. Once it’s completely unfolded you see a crude drawing of a penis. Actually, it looks like Billy’s laid his dick on the paper and traced around it. It’s the most ridiculous and hilarious thing you’ve ever seen and you can’t help the roar of giggles erupting from your chest. The image of him so utterly bored while he’s locked away and getting the idea to trace his hard dick against the paper is the funniest thing in the world to you. God, you adore him.

[play-rough]

I was passing by a children's museum and I was thinking about Chuuya taking a non regressed Dazai to a museum or an aquarium and Dazai getting so excited, especially seeing the fishies at the aquarium because they remind him of his fishie and immediately regressing. He's practically dragging Chuuya around to see the different aquatic animals or to the different exhibits the aquarium has. (Everytime he sees a sea snail/slug he points it out to Chuuya and says it's one of his siblings)

Just imagine if there's one of those exhibits where you can touch the animals and Dazai recoiling because of the unexpected textures and the coldness. Chuuya has to keep calming him down with each new exhibit because of how excited Dazai keeps getting seeing all the animals. (Dazai was probably so overwhelmed when he first walked in seeing all the people but as soon as he saw a sea otter all that apprehension went away and by the time they got to the crustaceans area Chuuya has given up on trying to quiet Dazai down)

OOOOOOO and for a treat after they both get tired from walking they get taiyaki aisu (or as I like to call them the ice cream fishies) and despite probably having had it before, in Dazai's regressed state this is one of the most mind-blowing things he's ever seen. (He gets so messy but his baby is happy so Chuuya is happy and that's all that matters.)

(Sobbing now I'm thinking of both of them going to the zoo and the park and the beach. Can you imagine Dazai avoiding the water but wanting to build a sand castle and Chuuya struggling to get sunblock on this boy because of his sensory issues. KICKING AND SCREAMING .⁠·⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠(⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠·.)

I have like. The next four classification aus planned out and there IS an aquarium trip in the near future 😳 Dazai in the touch tide pools what will he discover 👀 he needs to see irl otters and mackerels 😭 I’ve also been thinking about a beach trip, Dazai all sticky with sunscreen and in a sunglasses and hat while he digs in the sand 😭 sooooo precious 🥹😭😭😭😭

I’m definitely making note of the taiyaki idea *furiously scribbling* taiyaki is one of those foods where I only have good memories of eating it bc I’ve only gotten it with friends and such Dazai must try it 🥹🥹🥹🥹

I bet he would love the zoo as well 🥰😭 I’ll add that to the list too

[optimisticstudentangel]

๋࣭ ⭑Let the kissing session begin ๋࣭ ⭑

Simeon x reader ( gender neutral)

Warning: intense kissing session, little suggestive 

A ton of makeup was strewn all over the room. It was scattered in all corners, wherever you looked, there were definitely a couple of your possessions. You never suspected that you had so many different palettes, lipsticks, concealers and so on.

Many of these items were gifted by Asmo. He knew a lot about the cosmetics industry, everything he chose for you, fit well on your skin and perfectly emphasized your advantages. It was a sin to refuse such generous gifts, so you always gratefully accepted them, even if you didn't really need this thing. But the moment has come to get rid of excess cosmetics, which you no longer use, so as not to take up extra space.

And you decided to choose the perfect place for sorting – Simeon's room. In fact, you just wanted to be in the same place with him while everyone was involved in their own affairs. Perhaps the presence of a loved one would give you motivation to finish the job as soon as possible, so that then both of you could cuddle next to each other.

- Are you done? – angel asked periodically. He was sitting at his desk, writing the new plot of his upcoming book. The angel did not immediately turn to you, apparently because he understood that your progress with throwing unnecessary cosmetics was very slow. But when he did direct his gaze in your direction, the angel only reminded you with a sweet smile not to be distracted. There was no condemnation in his tone, he just wanted you to be able to get the job done faster and take a break from the task.

Even though you tried to concentrate, after a while you quickly got bored. You started little by little, and then ended up using make up on yourself and fool around.

That's why you came up with an idea. To sort the lipsticks for today. And leave the other part of the cosmetics for the next day.

And of course this thought arose for a reason… You knew how to turn boring sorting of cosmetics into a more or less fun pastime. And you knew perfectly well who would help you with this. However, the angel himself most likely did not yet suspect that he would soon become your victim.

- Simeon, darling, are you going to write for a long time? Aren't you thinking of taking a short break? – you asked. The angel stopped writing down the flow of his thoughts and lifted the pen from his scribbled sheet.

- Hmm, maybe, - Simeon pulled his hands up and relaxed a little. After that movement, he turned to you and hurried to keep you company on his bed.

- That's what i need, - you thought to yourself. As soon as Simeon was comfortably settled on the bed, you attacked your boyfriend with the words: "Gotcha!". You knocked the angel down on a soft bed and sat on him, while holding both of the guy's hands in such a position that his hands were over his head.

The angel took his gaze away from you because of surprise and embarrassment. - MC! What are you doing?

- Shh! – you interrupted your boyfriend. "Simeon, please I need your help. Thanks to you, I'll finish sorting cosmetics faster. Be my personal test subject! This will make my task much easier for me."

The angel still hasn't recovered from the shock, he was just watching you. A second later, after Simeon digested what had happened, he finally agreed.

You smiled and thanked your beloved one. With your free hand, you reached for the first lipstick you saw. Removing the lipstick cap with your finger, you began to paint your lips with it. All this time, Simeon was closely following your every smooth movement, as if he was under hypnosis.

- Well... let's get started! – you approached the angel's face and paused for a second to scan his face before kissing him. With every second his cheeks turned pink, you realized that it was becoming difficult for you to restrain yourself.

- What are you waiting for? Or are you against your idea, are you really embarrassed? Simeon said with a certain arrogance. Oh, he didn't know who he was messing with.

You took it as a sign that the angel can not be spared. To begin with, your lips gently touched Simeon's lips. He opened his mouth slightly, giving you the opportunity to explore his mouth. You wanted to set a slow pace so that you could enjoy the sweet taste of an angel for as long as possible. However, Simeon had other plans, even though he was under you, the angel wanted to show that he could also keep the situation under his control. Therefore, realizing that you are still lingering, he took advantage of the moment and stuck his tongue in, deepening your kiss. Then you were caught off guard, and you moaned in surprise into his mouth.

How impatient he is. It's like he's testing your patience.

You pulled away from him, but your face was still close to him. Simeon was smiling contentedly, having received what he wanted. You decided to change tactics and started kissing anything but his lips. Soon his skin turned a shade of lipstick. There were a lot of traces of your lips on him and if he had to leave urgently because someone called him, it would be hard to hide the fact that you had a hot kissing session.

Unfortunately, for Simeon, he didn't have the same privileges that would give him the opportunity to return your kisses. 

- Are you sorry? – you asked jokingly. To which the angel also answered positively, laughing. His laughter was contagious, and while you were distracted, Simeon changed your position, you were still on him, but you were already in a sitting position. Because of this, you were on the same level, which was a plus for the angel, but not for you.

- So, what were we talking about? Simeon asked innocently, but you understood that there was something else behind that tone. He could knock you down at any moment and start teasing you as revenge. Therefore, in order not to give an unnecessary reason to anger the angel, you decided to act cunningly and clung to him. You yourself pulled the guy closer, to which he rather mumbled into your mouth.

"Simeon, I love you so much," you said languidly. After a second, you added, "We definitely have to put this lipstick aside, it looks good on your skin."

- Hahaha, especially if you apply this lipstick with your kisses. Hmmm… How about trying the rest of the lipsticks, they should also be given a chance, don't you think? Simeon suggested. "I must say that I am glad that there are so many of them here. That means we're going to be basking in each other's kisses for a long time, right?"

You grinned and nodded to the angel, reaching for another lipstick…

[zelenxa]

1313 - The Allaires

Alexandre loves his wife, so he does not question the impulsivity of Dayana’s actions when - in search of a job - she decides to become a midwife. He understands, at least, the desire to get out of the house. Both of them are never static. There’s always something that keeps them busy, but Alexandre’s job naturally keeps him up at the wee bits of hours, and Dayana’s doesn’t. He imagines that will change soon, be it from other people’s babies or their own one day.

Today, they’re venturing to the Galbury tavern. Venturing is too kind a word when they are easily in walking distance to the tavern but, with how city crowds can get, it feels as if. The tavern is particularly crowded today, and it takes special patience to carve out a small spot of his own to play the lute at. His job takes a very, very special patience indeed because, after a few hours of playing, a drunk patron decides - accidentally* Alexandre reminds himself that the man said it was an accident - to spill stew all over his clothing.

Alexandre only walks away with a hundred simoleons that day. Not at all worth it for the hours he puts in and the fact that he smells of spoiled vegetable soup as of now. Just the large price he pays to share his love of art. It reminds him of Esteban’s vocal scorn for fishing. Is that not Alexandre’s life? A day’s work for a catch of one fish.

It’s hard to stay mad anyway when Dayana, upon him recalling the story with disdain, gets a laugh out of it. He may not have everything he wants, but he does have what he needs. Alexandre can make peace with that.

The sun has just fallen when there's a knock on the door.

Putting away today’s ingredients, Dayana glances up in the direction of the racket. She doesn’t have to spare a thought over who it may be. Their small house warrants little privacy when their front door is windowed. That and Dayana sees orange hair immediately.

“Beatrice?” she questions. She catches the full attention of Alexandre, who of which was previously scribbling something down in his worn-down note-back.

Beatrice looks briefly awkward. It’s not the first time she’s visited, though perhaps it is the first time she’s visited this late. “I need a break,” she slumps, explanation wordless with the three sons she has already.

The tension breaks when Alexandre laughs.

“What are you doing here? Seriously,” Alexandre asks, playing with the spoon of his bowl of pottage.

Beatrice sighs, looking as if she’s conjuring any excuse to avoid the topic at hand. But, aware she’s intruding on husband and wife amid night no less, she resigns, laying her chin on her hand. “Anthony and I got in a dispute.”

“Really?”

Beatrice frowns, a little defensive for unreasonable measures. They know she knows there is no judgment, which means it might’ve been truly bad. Bad enough that at least her bluntness isn’t softened. “Don’t really me. The man makes me an argumentative person,” She runs her hand through her shoulder-length hair, shoulders slouching. Dayana thinks she looks like a soaked puppy. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she murmurs.

“That bad?” Alexandre says aloud.

The dynamic Alexandre and Beatrice share is one that, originally, Dayana had trouble understanding. She remembers when she first really met the woman with the acknowledgment of who she (vaguely) was to Alexandre. She’s ashamed now that she ever felt jealous, that her own unreasonable teenage insecurity had led her to fear that Alexandre was attracted to Beatrice. Still, Dayana has to give past her some credit. It is not hard to come to that conclusion. Alexandre has known Beatrice for a very long time, and had Beatrice not even married…?

She was wrong nonetheless. Slight changes in variables wouldn’t have mattered. Dayana has trouble putting exactly why or how the two had ever become friends, but she knows this: they waltz around each other like siblings.

“…And you know what? You’ll get it once you have children,” Dayana hears Beatrice say, completely having lost track of the conversation.

“How so?” Alexandre replies, looking like he’s about to embark on wisdom. Sarcasm or not, neither of them knows.

“You’ll just know, and when you do, don’t be an arsehole and leave your just-then pregnant wife with all the labor while you go on your emotional binge.”

Dayana frowns. Are they speaking of Beatrice’s husband? Arthur, was his name?

Alexandre glances at Dayana, Beatrice continues on. “Not that I think you two could ever really argue.”

“We’ve had our disagreements,” Dayana mindlessly responds, earning a huff from the redhead.

“Right, disagreements.” Beatrice’s fingers trace over the wooden table. “See, know this, when it comes to arguments, don’t ever leave things on a bad note. Antony is all too willing to do that. Ugh, I hate the silent treatment.”

“It sounds as if you need to talk it with him,” Dayana supplies after a moment of silence. “Or, you could just take the kids and move in with us,” she jokes, gesturing to their small home. It’s a poor attempt to lighten the mood that somehow ends up working.

“As if!” Beatrice scoffs. “You know the tavern may not have been my idea, but it’s just as a part of me as it is Antony.”

“And I’ll go crazy if I have to deal with Mathew or Brian in the size of this house,” Alexandre murmurs under his breath.

next (chrono) // next (allaire) // previous

[hyunnielix]

Prelude: The Invitation

Prelude of Maroon

Series Masterlist

— lee minho x reader (f)

— word count: 1.3k

— genre: non-idol au, acquaintances to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, right person wrong time/place typa beat

— warnings: mention of sexual abuse, mc has a lot of baggage emotional and physical. group therapy?

The room was a light cream colour. The kind of colour that was used to represent that homely kind of feeling. The kind of bland colour that shouted PAINT ME! COLOUR ME! Almost like a blank canvas to a kid who held crayons. You could imagine the scribbles decorating the walls; clumsily drawn red carnations and zoo animals…. Something friendly and not so dull and lifeless.

In some ways the colour represented you.

The bag you held had become creased under the amount of pressure you’d forced onto it. Your hands were crumpled like paper. The material under your nails had felt somewhat grounding. An exhale fell from your lips as you closed your eyes. Only a few more sessions. You kept reassuring yourself that you’d be out of here soon. No more mandatory treatment due to court order. No more wasted Wednesday afternoons. No more condescending therapists.

The opaque glass in the windows of the door stared straight back at you. It had felt like a taunt; you can’t see through me like I can see through you. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as simple as ditching the sessions. (you’d tried that once before and it ended up with a longer court sentence much to your dismay).

So here you stood, swallowing what was left of your pride. Holding your head high, you swung the doors open. Frowning immediately at the same old familiar faces. They sat in a circle on metal chairs that looked two seconds away from falling apart. They were the most uncomfortable seats ever. You’d rather be forced to sit on a patch of prickles. Unfortunately, they preferred to keep you all inside. As if that’d make it any less depressing. In a gloomy room with those damn cream-coloured walls. Your inner architectural designer was screaming expletives.

No one had acknowledged that you were late. Even Minji, the therapist. She’d just sat, hands in her lap nodding consistently at whatever spiel one of the regulars was on. You rolled your eyes, plopping yourself down in one of the seats. The chair creaked unceremoniously. Minji had spared you a glance for a split second as you manspreaded. It was the only way to feel somewhat comfortable. Majority of the room were men as well, so once again you were a singled-out factor... well apart from So-hee, though she didn’t speak much.

That wasn’t even the worst part about the sessions. You’d been recognized by someone who you’d gone to high school with. Not to make it even more unbearable or embarrassing. Han Jisung sat to your right. At first, you couldn’t tell if he was staring daggers into the back of your head when you’d first joined. Turns out he just had a really bad staring problem, that, or tended to completely dissociate. A part of you preferred to believe the latter.

He was a sweet kid. You weren’t in the same friendship groups, but you were paired together for a couple of projects before. He was nerdy but endearing. You’d been invited to many of their get togethers because you were mutual friends with Chan. The ones that you actually showed up to? They were few and far between. That all felt like a lifetime ago now. You wondered what had happened for him to be stuck here. Although you couldn’t really talk, he was probably wondering the same thing about your situation.

A poke to your shoulder broke you out of the bitter reminiscing. You glanced at Jisung as he sat back, a soft smile on his features. You tilted your head; he really reminded you of a squirrel or a quokka… something along those lines.

“Y/N? are you with us today?” The condescension in Minji’s voice had caused your shoulders to tense. Interrupting your stream of consciousness.

You sighed exhaustedly. “What was the question again?”

“Have you done the homework?”

What was this? Math class? You sat up as she basically spat the question in your face. The rest of the group were silent, staring straight at you. Usually in these kinds of situations you’d get anxious, but every flying fuck you previously gave had evaporated. You didn’t care what these people thought of you. Okay, maybe Jisung but bar the rest.

“I like how I’m patient, I think it’s my best trait.”

“How so?” She prodded deeper.

You scrunched your nose up, venom in your tone. “I can take it again and again and again and no longer flinch or talk back.”

You watched the way Minji swallowed. She was shocked by your honesty. You could read her pretty easily. She was a bad therapist, that was an objective fact. You never really understood the idea behind paying someone to listen to your problems. However, since this was a mandatory government requirement you assumed she was getting paid through the nose. After all, this was all voluntary for her.

The chair wobbled as you stood abruptly. “Are we done for today? because I showed up, so I think that means you have to sign it off.”

Minji let out a sigh of relief, shrugging. She wanted you gone it was obvious. She waved her hand to dismiss you. Deciding to play on it for a bit longer, you took your time to curtsy dramatically. Shooting her a deadly smirk. A slight blush dusted her cheeks. She was embarrassed by your display. Good. She deserved a taste of her own medicine.

You glanced over your shoulder, slugging your bag on your back. “You coming?”

Jisung’s eyes almost bulged out of his head, pointing to himself cluelessly. You nodded repeatedly. Turning around, you walked casually towards the door. Ignoring the countless pairs of eyes following your trail. Jisung scampered after you, causing a giggle to escape from your mouth. Oh, you were definitely a bad influence.

It was much calmer outside. The sky was crystal blue, clear and open. Unlike the confines of the facility, the bland popcorn ceiling was the most interesting thing about that place. You kicked the tip of your shoe against the dirt, satisfied by the crunching sounds of sand.

“Why’d you do that?” Jisung for the first time had spoken up. You glanced at him, staring at his face over your shoulder. He seemed confused. His brows were furrowed, lips pulled taut.

“Why?” You spun around to fully face him. “I just saved you, sheesh Jisung have a little gratitude.” He automatically looked towards the ground, nervous under your stare. “I’m not going to bite you—”

You shrugged, smiling unnervingly. “Or maybe I will, I like getting a reaction out of people.”

His eyes locked with yours as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Your gaze softened. Had your hard ass personality really scared him off that much? You knew that your lack of filter usually got you in hot water, but you never thought it was intimidating. Maybe he was scared you’d call him out on something. The corner of your lip twitched. That was probably the reason he hadn’t told you why he was here.

“Actually.” He stepped forward, fidgeting with his sweater paws. “I wanted to give you this, I was trying to build up the courage to.” He pulled a maroon envelope out of his back pocket. Now this piqued your interest. He held it toward you with a pleading look in his brown eyes.

You sceptically raised your brow. “Tell me what it is first.”

“It’s an invitation to a high school reunion, it seems weird since it was only six years ago, but a lot can change in that amount of time.” He paused, “Well, people can change.”

You noticed his hesitation, carefully plucking the envelope from him. “I’ll think about it.”

“Make this one of those gatherings you actually show up to.” He sent you a lazy smile, a welcoming one. You couldn’t help but flash him one back. Your fingers brushed over the cardboard like material, staring at the deep red, no… maroon coloured invitation.

[duckymcdoorknob]

Random Tokyo Revengers brainrot but-

Draken who is always the first person to show up at member's houses when they get hurt, no matter who they are, their rank, or how well acquainted they are, just to make sure they're doing ok, both physically and mentally.

Draken who will immediately shut down any apologies they have for failing/losing a fight, and tells them its fine cause they fought back and didn't give up, and that's what counts, and that they're not in trouble.

Draken who lightly scolds the ones who get into fights they can't handle too frequently, and reminds them they can always count on their Toman family as well. They don't have to do it all by themselves just to prove their worth

Draken who will lightly poke or scribble at a ticklish spot if they start to get emotional, telling them to cheer up and feel better soon, and that they can also call him if they need to talk or just don't want to be alone

Ty for coming to my ted talk.

suddenly I’m a member of Toman

DESSIE IDK WHERE YOU SPAWNED FROM BUT IM SURE GLAD YOU DID-

I AM SETTLING DOWN FOR “BED” AND THESE ARE SO DBFINSJDNFKDNSKFNKFFNJ