#do you remember me or are you replacing me

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ darry rings - are limited to one per lifetime, emphasizing that love should be exclusive and irreplaceable. true love verification ensures each customer can only buy one ring.

includes: itoshi sae! x reader. 0.9k wc. fluff hehe

you are unable to believe the outrageous actions of your boyfriend. this time, his doings were diabolical to the point of no return. “get out!”

you push itoshi sae out the door in a fit of frustration. his sigh is so loud, it feels like it’s echoing in your head, only making your irritation worse.

“this is my bedroom,” he deadpans, as if stating the obvious will reverse his sudden eviction. it doesn’t work. you’re already diving into the duvets with a determined scowl.

“what are you even doing?” he asks, his tone tipping into annoyance. he narrows his eyes when you march a little closer and throw his pillow into his arms.

“you’re sleeping on the couch,” you declare, voice firm, matching his now sour expression. “and actually, that pillow is way too nice. hand it back.”

he blinks, baffled, before the "too nice" pillow is snatched away and replaced with a sad, flat one that looks like it’s seen better days.

sae stares at the new pillow and then at you. this is so absurd, so far removed from the usual luxurious facade of his life, that the ever-composed itoshi sae actually laughs.

“you’re forgetting something,” he says suddenly, catching your wrist and pulling you closer.

“sae! let go!” you yelp, squirming in his grasp.

“are you seriously this upset over that cheap ring?” his tone is somewhere between exasperation and amusement, as if he should've expected such a reaction.

“it doesn’t matter if it was cheap; it was mine!” you hit his chest with a fist, glaring up at him. “and you hid it!”

“because i got you a better one,” he says, his eyebrows raising slightly, as if that explains everything.

“well, you could’ve just said that!” you huff, shoving his arm. “i was freaking out, thinking i lost it!”

"why do you even like that ring so much?" sae asks, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s debating whether this argument is even worth his energy.

"because you gave it to me in high school!" you snap back, arms crossing dramatically. "i've spent more time with that ring than with you!"

he freezes, the weight of your words sinking in. the usual sharpness in his expression softens, and for a moment, he just looks at you—really looks at you. his gaze lingers on you, quiet and heavy with a mixture of guilt and something unspoken.

it's true. he knows it. he knows just how many times he’s failed to be present for you, how many moments he’s missed, how many nights you’ve spent waiting for him to come back—both physically and emotionally. each time, each goodbye felt like he was leaving behind another piece of you. your glassy eyes were all he would remember during those long flights.

but that's exactly why he's been wanting to do this for a while. because, although he might not make it obvious, itoshi sae is more attentive than you think.

he reaches into his pocket. the movement catches your attention, and when he pulls out a small velvet box, your breath hitches.

“is that...” you begin to question, even though the answer is obvious.

he opens the box, revealing a sleek, elegant darry ring. it gleams under the soft light of the bedroom—intricate, expensive, but graceful instead of loud, the kind of thing only sae could choose.

“i didn’t hide your ring to be an ass,” he says, a rare gentleness lacing his tone. his firm hand captures yours and slides the perfectly fitted ring on your designated finger.

"i wanted you to have something better," he brings your jeweled hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss. "something worthy of you."

"i wanted to sign my name to you."

you blink, your chest tightening, and before you know it, you're rushing forward to throw your arms around him in an impulsive, tight hug.

"you're an idiot, sae!" you voice, sound coming out teary-eyed.

a moment passes without either of you saying anything. he just holds you tighter, as if making up for every moment he couldn’t be there. then, he chuckles softly, a low, soft sound that fills the space between you.

you pull back just enough to frown up at him, your hands resting on his chest. "you're laughing?!"

sae, with that trademark smirk, tilts his head slightly. "do you like it?" his voice teasing but with that edge of sincerity you know so well.

you scoff, still holding on to his shirt, a little stunned. "are you seriously asking me that right now?" you mumble, though your heart is already swelling.

"i love it," you finally smile, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "i love it, sae."

he leans forward, the tug of his smile remaining. "yeah?" he inches closer, grabbing you, leaving no room for escape. "how much?"

"so much.." you manage to whisper against his lips before he fully dives in for a kiss.

his lips move gently against yours, tasting the words you just spoke, savoring your happiness. it’s soft and tender, and deliberately slow, as he prefers.

when he finally pulls back, you're left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. you glance up at him, suddenly shy, feeling a soft blush creeping on you.

"you're still sleeping on the couch," you point and smile, face full of mischief.

sae shrugs, his expression slipping into one of playful indifference. “fine. but you’re joining me.”

before you can even protest, he scoops you up effortlessly, your squeals of protest only providing him amusement as he holds you securely in his arms.

"okay, okay! you can sleep on the bed!"

a/n: me ignoring my 1k wc essay to write a 1k wc sae fic 👍🏼

[conspiracyofcrazy]

I worked in a non-union factory for a while. Avoid those if you can; try to organize if you can't.

We did piece work. We all rotated jobs so we weren't stuck on the same job all the time, but someone forgot to rotate me for about a month. So I got very good at my piece. I got so good that a supervisor was sent over with a stop-watch to readjust the pay for each piece.

If memory serves, I was working a piece that earned about $0.0275 per good piece. In a 40 hour week, after deductions, I was cashing checks between $600-$650. It had been timed for no more than gross $500. It was the early 00s. I paid someone else to wash, dry, and fold my laundry.

I had been running this machine really well. No one else was anywhere as fast. If they retimed it for just me? Fine... But it would be company wide. Everyone working that piece would get paid at the new rate that I set.

That machine never fucked up as much as it did that day. Bad pieces all day. I even had to stop for a half hour to get a new mill fitted and then I had to recalibrate... It was a mess. My supervisor knew exactly what I was doing, but they were all things that do happen running those machines - I just made them happen. One after another. All morning.

After lunch, my supervisor said it was a terrible run of bad luck, really, but I should probably see if I could salvage the day so I made some money. Funny thing: his stopwatch battery died and he couldn't find a replacement. Huh. We chalked it up to a bad day and he left the rate where it was. He just remembered to rotate me out. And if we ran low on that piece, I got to run it again.

There are ways we can all look out for each other, even if we don't strike.

Yeah quiet quitting is great and all but have you tried chaotic working?

Like. I remember back in my grocery store cashier days I did so much crazy shit.

When WIC (Women, infants, and children voucher program to help low income mothers/families with children) people were in my line I would pretty much know who they were. Before the cards they had to tell us upfront they were WIC and show us their vouchers for what they were allowed to get (it was awful some times. Like. 2 gallons of milk. $4 worth of vegetables etc etc). They’d always have items hanging back, waiting to see what the total was and if they would have to take it off the belt.

I began to place the fruits/vegetables a certain way on the register scale so that like 1/2lbs of grapes read as like .28lbs or something. Then act shocked when I said that they still had X amount of lbs left. They got all their fruit and vegetables.

I think it started to kinda? Catch on to the women? Because I would have the same moms in my line month after month. And even after they switched to the cards (they worked like food stamp cards?) I’d still do the same thing. They were able to get more produce for whatever shitty max amount Indiana gave them.

Anyways. Be chaotic. It’s more fun that way.

[daycourtofficial]

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one - part three

Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel | WC: 3.3k | warnings: general angst, some violence

Summary: after a week of avoiding talking to him, Azriel invites you out for a meeting that only leaves you with a more urgent sense of jealousy

Author’s note: happy new year’s eve!! I know it hasn’t been too long since the last part, but I wanted to spread some holiday joy! This year has been awful but my time online and the friends I’ve met through here have been so lovely and kind and you guys have gotten me through a lot do here’s some pain!

Last part | Next part | Masterlist

Your conversation with Nesta left you reeling, some deep part of you rattled at her words. A deep loneliness settled in you after she left, a swirling storm of anger and jealousy threatening to fester into a hurricane out on the balcony.

‘He’s a challenge on his best days.’

Why had the Mother given her most loyal follower a mate who was so difficult? Weren’t mates supposed to be a blessing?

Rhys and Feyre, Nesta and Cassian - they all had their own fair share of turbulence. You remembered the stories from Mor about Feyre throwing her shoes at Rhysand, or Nesta’s seemingly complete apathy around Cassian.

The journals left you confused, both smitten and giddy and a deep questioning of should it be this hard? Azriel and Eris had already seen the worst of each other and still chose and defended their bond. Would the same be said of you if Azriel saw your faults? Or would one flawed mate be enough for him?

Would another fae be able to look past your status as a second choice? Would you be able to even look at other fae if Azriel rejected you?

It had only been a few weeks since the bond had snapped for you, but in that time you didn’t notice other fae. They were just background characters, no one in particular ever catching your notice.

Except Eris. That was nothing though - merely Azriel’s feelings about him swirling within you.

None of it made any sense, your body subconsciously leaving the balcony and moving to find Azriel, repeating to yourself that an answer laid in one of his journals. You stopped by your room to gather the journal before following the bond to find the shadowsinger alone in the library. He looked incredible - his large wings stretched out over the black leather, the definition of his body evident through his loose fitting clothes. He was hunched over a small table, flipping through a book and jotting things down on the paper next to him. All your time spent reading this past week made his handwriting a familiar sight.

“Hi Az.” You stopped before him, presenting him with your most recently finished journal. This one had contained much the same - fighting between Eris and Azriel, occasional snippets about Cassian and his drunken antics. It seemed Eris and Azriel were in a constant cycle of never getting too close, one or the other always finding some fault to keep their distance.

He accepted it wordlessly, the replacement journal ready in his lap. How you hadn’t noticed it says more about the focus of your attention than you would like.

“Expecting me?”

“You usually find me around this time.” He huffed, the slight smile on his face enough to know he’s being light hearted. You took the new journal, about to turn on your heel when you spotted the empty chair next to Azriel. You waited a moment, turning back to find him still looking at you. Your chest felt tight with vulnerability, looking back to the empty chair, something inside of you begging to sit in his presence.

It felt like a good sign finding him in the open. You usually found him in his room, his door closed in front of you once the exchange was made. But now he sat on display, his own work spread out before him. You weren’t certain you had ever seen him work so openly.

You took the sign as an invitation, sitting in a chair opposite him, the spine a harsh crack in the silent room. He did nothing more than watch, hazel eyes tracking the delicacy and respect you showed to the journal before looking back to his own notes.

It was silent save for the turning of pages and his scrawling. It felt so warm being in his presence, sharing this time with him. It was so easy to get lost in it that the next time you looked up you realized he had pulled out a fresh journal, scribbling away in it. It was a cleaner version of the one you spent every night hunched over, staying up until the last word was comprehensible to your sleep-addled brain.

“Have you ever done that in front of someone before?” You croaked the words out, throat dry from your lack of water in hours, too afraid if you got up, your return would show an empty room.

“No, I haven’t.” His scrawl hadn’t stopped, and you straightened up, trying to catch a glance of what he was writing, if your name made an appearance. Shadows swirled at the top of his journal, obscuring your vision. You looked at the shadow, a cross expression trying to threaten them. They only seemed to dance more rapidly, in agitation or preening beneath your gaze, you weren’t sure.

“None of that.”

You sank back deflated, surprised you were caught. Picking up the journal once more, you flicked to the page you had left off at, settling back in.

“You’ll see this one soon enough.” The book snapped shut at his words as you readjusted to sit back up.

“I will?” Azriel only nodded, finally looking up at you instead of the pages of his journal. His eyes darted around the room before a shadow curled around his ear. Whatever the shadow told him, he relaxed a little, his posture easing into his seated position.

“I gave them to you to understand Eris and I’s relationship. But I think it’s impossible to figure out this situation without getting completely up to date.”

You nearly salivated at the thought of Azriel’s present journals. To know what he’s thought about you this whole time, in his own words, even without knowing about the bond? Priceless.

He had said he had been interested in you, drawn to you.

Azriel smiled, a soft pulsing of the thread around your heart. Tonight had been a step forward - you didn’t want to push your luck and find out if he was pulling the cord tight in reassurance or suffocation. You kept the question to yourself, nestling into the chair and the comfort of Azriel’s scent.

-

Mindless chatter moved across the breakfast table, your eyes constantly flickering to Azriel. It was impossible to keep them off of him, his emotions roiling in your chest kept you up half the night once you had retired from the library. You had been avoiding him for a week now, and the hours spent in his company reminded you of just how nice it was to linger in his presence.

This past week had been an anomaly, one you weren’t certain your friends had noticed or not. Azriel was usually a source of company at some point during your day - a meal, transportation, or just someone to go out walking Velaris with you.

If this past week showed you anything, it was how ingrained into your daily life Azriel had become.

You looked at him again, your eyes lingering on the lack of sleep beneath his eyes. He was tired. You couldn’t pinpoint it exactly- it wasn’t in his face or in his movements. Was it the bond? Was it your late night insomnia that kept him up?

Could mating bonds do that?

“Azriel, what time are you leaving?” Rhys’s question brought you from your focused gaze, waiting to hear Azriel’s response. So focused on Azriel, you hadn’t bothered pretending to even eat or notice Cassian’s glances to his own mate.

“I’m leaving in the afternoon.” Azriel’s head turned to you, his hazel eyes capturing yours in a gaze you couldn’t look away from. Where was he going? You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts you had missed the beginning of the discussion.

“I think it would be better if you came with me.” The table had turned quiet, the clattering of cutlery pausing for just a moment, all eyes slowly directed your way, waiting for your response.

So they’ve noticed this weirdness between you two.

“Are you sure, Az?” Azriel didn’t look away from you at Rhysand’s question, merely waiting for your response. Something in you was drawn to his gaze, wanting to linger in it for the rest of your days. His eyes held such softness, a look he reserved just for you.

And his other mate. The bitter thought made you grimace. Azriel and Eris had something real, something tangible that they fought for every single day.

But surely the moments in the library were also real. Not as intense or passionate, but full of a warmth you had hardly experienced before, a domesticity many would dream about.

“Yes, I will. Where are we going?”

Azriel was quick to answer, one of his shadows nearly muffling Rhysand’s voice so Azriel could be the one to respond.

“I have a meeting with Eris.” You were too focused on Azriel’s face to notice Nesta’s eyes widen imperceptibly on the other side of the table.

-

Your fingers tapped against your thigh, an anxiety coursing through you at the thought of seeing Eris again. He was something - a sharp face, even sharper tongue, decadently dressed. You hated to admit it, but you could understand why the Mother had mated him to Azriel - the two were quite possibly the most gorgeous fae in all of Prythian.

You had stayed up late again pouring over Azriel’s journals. Each notebook left you more and more territorial over him, romance pouring through every page. It was so different from the books Nesta read - the fictitious couple having grandiose gestures, no depiction of how the day to day worked.

But Azriel’s notebook was filled with longing for Eris. Recaps of long conversations they have had, almost word for word detailings of what they spoke about.

They had been together for a little over a century by now. They both fought it - Azriel all but withdrew from his family, avoiding them for over a year while he figured it out.

It took nearly a decade for them to come to terms with it - one of them never quite ready to dive in, both playing the hesitant role at different points.

It seemed one day Eris just snapped. Tired of talking in circles and exhausting every avenue, he went for it. He kissed Azriel and it spiraled from there, consummating the bond. It was a romantic tale of longing and distance and overcoming any and all odds for each other.

A story you had no business playing a part in.

Azriel pulled you from your thoughts, reaching out a hand to winnow the pair of you away. You took it, remembering all too well the last time you were gathered in his arms.

You both rematerialized in a densely packed forest, the trees so close together it was difficult to move between. You steadied yourself against Azriel, hands pressed to his broad chest. Winnowing yourself anywhere wasn’t an issue, but someone else winnowing you left you unmoored, your feet unable to find solid ground for a few seconds. The bond tightened around your heart, the beat of it speeding up at the contact.

“Come to gloat?” Your head whipped towards Eris as you yanked your hands from Azriel’s chest. You didn’t notice Azriel bringing his hands back up, reaching for you, trying to keep you close.

But Eris did. He schooled his features, looking toward Azriel with hardened eyes.

“No, I brought her so we can figure this out.”

Eris scoffed, the sound loud enough to be heard over the bird song high above the group. He stomped forward in a direct path towards Azriel, a trail of smoke in his wake.

His long red hair flowed behind him as he moved, reflecting the light of the sun so beautifully the homes of the Autumn Court could be full of portraits of the male before you and his beauty would still surprise. Your heart hammered in your chest, unable to look away from him.

“I’m sure that’s exactly what you’ve been up to this past week. Trying to figure this out with her, shutting off your bond to me.” The last words came out as a whisper, the underlying accusation one Eris couldn’t bear to say. He looked almost hurt as he said it.

“Er-“ Eris cut Azriel off, pushing his back into a tree, his hands curling into the leathers. Your feet followed the action, a hot sense of protectiveness overcoming you.

“No, Azriel. You don’t get to play house with her and show up here with her.”

“She can hear you, ya know.” You pushed Eris off of Azriel, the male staggering back in shock at your actions.

“How sweet. What a waste of my time to be here if you’re going to tell me you’ve finally picked someone else when you’ve had a century to do so.”

Azriel reached out for Eris, his grip tight around Eris’s forearm. Eris tried to push Azriel away from him, but his hand remained around Eris. He pulled the redhead closer, his thumb slowly stroking over his mate’s skin. It felt so intimate you wanted to look away.

“Eris, I am not picking her. I am trying to figure this out.” Azriel’s words stung, no matter how pragmatic they were. A teeny, tiny part of you wanted to blurt out to Eris about the journals, certain it would send the Autumn male out of your life for good. The action stayed in your mind at the betrayal Azriel would feel.

Some part of you knew something so hurtful would end in Azriel having no mates.

“‘Figure this out’? What is there to figure out? Which one of us you would pick?”

“No!” Azriel’s rebuttal was frantic, his lack of sleep more prominent now in the sunlight. It didn’t stop the sun from highlighting how gorgeous his brown skin was, though. “Can’t you think past your own self for five minutes and realize my soul, my entire being is connected to the both of you?”

The words did something to Eris, causing him to finally look at you. You couldn’t help the heat rushing to your cheeks beneath his gaze, a small part of you hoping he finds something interesting. You straightened, taking the time to look over him as well. It was nearly unfair how good he looked in his riding clothes. His shirt opened just enough to see his collarbone and the top of his sternum, his pale chest decorated with freckles. His loose, billowy shirt tucked into some well fitting trousers, thighs nearly ripping the fabric.

He wasn’t as big as Azriel - a bit shorter and not nearly as broad, but he was lean and strong, and you were certain they both threw each other around the bedroom with ease.

“I suppose severing this bond would mean lifelong consequences for you.” Eris spoke to Azriel, but kept his gaze on you as he walked toward you. Heat crept up your body the closer he got, each step raising the temperature by ten degrees. It was nearly unbearable by the time he stood in front of you, so close you had to look up at him.

Eris’s anger made him more beautiful - the sharpness of his face poised and ready for attack, the red shades of anger perfectly matching his skin and hair.

Heat coursed around your neck, the flames dancing across your skin. You were enraptured with Eris, this moment only for the two of you. You could hear Azriel start to object, but paid him no notice, your full attention on Eris.

“I could end it all now, remove the most painful thorn in my side you’ve been.”

You smiled up at him, overcome with a new feeling of competition. The flames around your neck tightened, but you kept on, stepping infinitesimally closer to Eris.

“If my mere existence is a pain to you now, just wait until I’ve decided you’re worth the effort to bother. You’ve only known me for a week and already I’m worth your ire.”

“Go home to Velaris. Go be a small town healer and find a small town male for you to fake your orgasms with.”

Your jaw dropped and you felt Azriel’s hands wrap around your upper arms, trying to pull you back, but you rooted yourself to the ground, pulling from his grasp.

“At least my constituents will look me in the eye out of respect and not fear. At least my patients know I had to work for my job and that I wasn’t given it because of my father!”

The flames were choking now, your breaths coming in hard and shallow. You were trying to fight it, to win whatever this was, but breathing harder and harder, fresh air a luxury you couldn’t remember.

“Eris!” Azriel all but growled as he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into him. You reached up, trying to pull the collar off, tried to get any air, but it was impossible.

“The Mother is absurd for mating Azriel with someone so foolish who speaks of things she knows nothing about.” Eris relinquished his power as you sagged into Azriel’s arms, but Eris cupped a hand around your jaw. His eyes burned with fury and something you couldn’t quite make out, the amber color replaced with the blown pupils of his ire.

“Az, come back to me when you’ve decided the bitch isn’t worth your time.”

Chest heaving, you squared your jaw, a rebuttal on your tongue, but Eris had turned, walking into the trees before disappearing completely into them.

He was everything Nesta had warned you he was. He was cruel, difficult, and maddening.

And if the Mother wanted Azriel to pick one of you, you would do whatever it took to beat out Eris Vanserra for Azriel’s affections.

You’re stuck so deep in your head, you don’t even notice Azriel winnow the two of you back to the House of Wind, the two of you landing in the dining room. You turned to ask him about Eris, to talk to him about how ridiculous his mate was, but Azriel had dropped your arm, winnowing away immediately after. Your hand instinctively reached out for the shadows, but it was too late.

He was gone and he left you here.

You sighed, not knowing what you expected him to do. Coddle you? Tell you Eris didn’t mean his threats? Tell you Eris is a big meanie head?

You shook the thought away, your steps soft as you made your way through the house, a journal calling your name to pour through.

Your adrenaline was wearing off, the grime of the forest stuck to your clothes making the bathtub’s siren song call to you from many rooms away.

“How was your meeting with Eris?” Nesta’s voice found you as you were about to climb the stairs, one foot raised. You spun on your heel to look at her, her face indecipherable. Just his name filled you with anger and confusion once more. How was it him that had received Azriel’s affections?

“He’s worse than you made him seem. Vile and cruel, just like everyone says.” You spat the words at her, not receiving the reaction you wanted from her. Nesta only raised her eyebrows as her nose twitched.

“Are you sure?” Your anger had flared too much to notice her strange tone or the look in her eye.

“I’m positively certain. Anyone having to spend time with that awful, awful male is a saint or somehow even worse than he is.”

She approached you, her eyes lingering on your neck. You weren’t certain if you had scorch marks or not, unsure if Eris’s wickedness scarred. She was quiet as she looked at you, eyes of silver intense as they locked onto yours. You weren’t sure if she found what she was looking for or not before she brushed past you to go to her own chambers, her words quiet in the stillness of the house.

“If you say so.”

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

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[cyrdling]

Lovey (Jason Todd x Reader Oneshot)

a/n: i really hope i wasn't gone too long, lol. hope you guys like the blog retheming! for the story, reader is broke and lives in a shitty apartment.

now, you didn't know jason todd was the red hood. how were you supposed to know that the total hunk with mysterious scars all over and a tendency to leave in the middle of the night was a fucking vigilante? okay, yeah, maybe you were a bit oblivious. but nobody could blame you for it, since you were slaving away at your job and you lived in gotham, for goodness sake. if you had one week without some random attack by the local crazies, you could count yourself lucky. this meant that the time you had outside of work and city-wide emergencies was very, very little- you couldn't really sleep all that much, and you couldn't do any of your hobbies. in essence, you weren't really living- just surviving. no time to think about pretty boy jason, or to figure out how to lie about being fine.

despite your oblivious nature, you knew jason was incredibly observant. you didn't need to know he was a vigilante (which, by the way, he still teases you for) to know that he's very aware of his surroundings. he takes care to be very, very aware of where you are- other things he doesn't really care about. he wants to make sure he knows where you are so he doesn't hurt you if you startle him. he just wants to be as gentle with you as possible. however, because of his observance, he's noticed something is up with you.

he wakes up in the morning to you rushing to get ready for work, remembering how late you went to bed last night. he decides to say something.

"sweetheart, why are you going to work? you slept so late last night," he practically mumbles. he has to keep his voice quiet, or else you might notice the soft little whine to it- he just wants to cuddle and keep you close, so not being able to absolutely breaks his big heart.

"sorry, jay- i need to work, i won't be affording this apartment and i can't miss a day just because i'm too tired. i know you'll miss me, baby, but i'll be back before you know it," you tell him, speaking at a volume normal to you, sure, but the quiet paradise of your bedroom was practically shaking from the sound. jason sighs, giving you his best puppy dog eyes to try and guilt you into staying. you're his little angel, he wants to hug you like a teddy bear while he curls up under your blankets.

you sigh, kissing him on the lips, while his adorable tactic doesn't help his case. then, you grab your phone, and leave. he sighs, deep and tired, as he pulls out his phone to check the time before he gets up. he goes through his morning routine without you- brushing his teeth, combing his hair, putting on his sweats and a tee shirt, eating a balanced breakfast (which he's very sure you didn't do, because the one he made for you and put in the fridge is untouched) and then sitting down in front of the television to think about you.

now, jason doesn't think about you every second of every day- he has to figure out how to save the city, after all- but he definitely comes close. he'll be walking down the street and see some items you might like, in a little storefront. he's watching television, and an ad for that one show you like shows up, and he looks to his side to talk about it with you, but you're not there. he decides that if he wants you to be happier, he'd have to do a lot of work.

first, he goes to the grocery store and buys all the stuff you're running out of, and stuff you've said you wanted to try but never had the funds. he even gets a couple extra things he thinks you might like, too, even if you've never said anything about them. he racks up quite the bill, but it's fine- bruce will pay for it.

second, he goes to a furniture store to replace your ratty couch and get you something cute and nice. he gets you some insanely expensive furniture, especially in comparison with what you bought for yourself, and even got you a couple knickknacks from an antique store nearby. like the first bill jason got, bruce will, once again, pay for it.

last, he goes to the wayne manor. there's some things he wants to get that he can't exactly buy- mainly sentimental things- but he wants to show you that he's making an effort to trust you, and turn your apartment into a home. he gets some framed photos off the walls of his old bedroom, some books, and other little things that he thinks you might find cute. while he's carrying his huge bag of goods, he comes across bruce. they stare each other down for a while, and bruce speaks first.

"is this for your partner?" he asks, stern voice bouncing off the walls and buzzing in jason's skull.

jason smirks, "yeah. what's it to you?" the last word ending in a slight raise of his voice.

bruce sighs. "nothing. just tell me the next time you plan to spend that much money in one day," with that, he turns and leaves- a barely imperceptible smile on his face at the fact that finally, finally jason has found someone to love.

jason hops in his car- he couldn't trust himself to carry that much on his bike, let's be honest- and drives back to your apartment. he drags all his luggage up to your floor, struggling only slightly to open your door. thankfully, all of the furniture he got was delivered- thank goodness for money- and he just took a few trips to carry it up (and also had dick help some).

with all of these things in his sight, he suddenly became insecure. what if you didn't like the foods he got you? what if you didn't like the furniture, or thought the stuff from his childhood room was stupid?

he heard footsteps down the hall.

heard someone fiddling with their keys.

heard the door opening.

you came in, and saw him in the center of a long day of work- his eyes widen, and he greets you- nervously, stuttering a little, just a bit too loud for the situation.

"hey, sweetheart- um- i got you some things," he sighs, almost defeated. oh god, you're gonna hate him. you're gonna leave him for someone who knows what gifts to get you, who knows how to talk to you about things. he feels his palms going clammy, his heart thundering away in his chest, his lungs struggling for air- wait, why are you smiling? you're not supposed to be smiling. does this mean you're happy with this? you laugh, and he feels his heart shoot directly through the upper floors of your apartment and into the stratosphere. he's sure you'd be losing your security deposit for that, but he can't bring himself to care. he'd pay for it, a million times over, just for you.

with his help, you put all of the food away, throw out your ratty couch, rearrange the furniture, and set up the knickknacks and sentimental items around the place. the entire way through, though, jason stares at you starstruck- if you look close enough, you might be able to see the hearts forming in his eyes. he, in his ever-helpful wisdom, told you to quit your job. when you ask why, he only told you one thing- and he kept repeating it whenever you'd ask.

he'd tell you, "it's my job to take care of you, lovey. i'll pay for it," his eyes full of love and his thumb caressing your cheek. he is quite the partner, ain't he?

please reblog if you enjoyed this one!! i definitely had a lot of fun writing it!

[kyu-piddy]

New Year’s Kiss

An: Happy new year everyone! Exams are kicking my butt, so I haven’t been able to write much. Even so, here’s a little something to celebrate the beginning of 2025!

Gn reader x nrc students (minus Ortho)

Words: 5.3k words

Tw: None

The clock strikes midnight, the new year commences, and the man you secretly love stands in front of you.

Eyes locked and heart in your mouth, seconds pass in silence…

Ace

Ace’s mouth quirks into a little smirk.

“I know you’re just dying to kiss me, Prefect.”

His jeering tone is contrasted by the heat climbing up from his neck to his cheeks, hand on the back of his head.

“Maybe you’re the one dying to kiss me, Ace.”

His false confidence crumbles, his gaze faltering to the ground.

“Maybe… Just maybe, I do.”

The festivities around you continue, but time stands still as you take a step forward, so uncertain in your certainty.

As your faces are merely inches from each other, you stop, sudden shame coloring your mind.

Before you can put much more thought into it, Ace leans forward and steals a kiss.

Soft and brief, he quickly pulls away, turning his head around just as quickly.

“The others are probably looking for us. Let’s go.”

He starts walking fast, bashfulness leading his feet, but passion leading his heart, and hand, to yours.

Deuce

Deuce seems momentarily lost, briefly fleeting from confused to bashful, before setting into a serious expression, resolute on whatever his mind has decided.

“Prefect, there’s this new years tradition I’d really like to try.”

His practiced speech stops midway, loosing himself in your inquisite eyes.

Murmuring something to himself, he throws himself forward, grabbing your hands with his, a violently soft prayer of acceptance.

“I really want to kiss you!”

You blink stupidly back at him.

He takes a step back, a dejected look on his face.

“Only if you want to, of course. I’d never want to force you.”

Grabbing his tie, you shut him up with a kiss.

He freezes, insecurities of a first kiss clouding his judgement, but slowly and surely melts into it.

Cater

“Happy new year! Since I found you first, you have to give me a big ol smooch.”

You roll your eyes, but nevertheless lean into his face, landing a soft kiss on his plush cheek, small specks of glitter reflecting the low lights of the room.

“Happy now?” you ask, a small smile on your face not reflected in your heart.

Cater puts on a pondering face, finger tapping on his chin, pensative gaze staring straight through you.

“Uhmm… Not really, no.”

He chirps, and his airy smile drops, replaced by a surprisingly serious look.

“I want a real kiss,___.”

“Cater, don’t play around! I swear, it’s too early in the year for a magicam challenge.”

You playfully slap his arm, a chance for him to grab it and pull you close, his other arm resting on your lower waist.

“I don’t always play around, you know?”

Releasing your arm, he leads his hand to the back of your head.

The sparkles on his cheeks are the last thing you see before you’re engulfed in a fiery kiss, one that you’ll remember forever.

Trey

“The mess after this party is going to be immense. I pity whoever will have to clean it.”

“Thankfully it isn’t us! I can already imagine the hours it would take to clean the stains of that carpet.”

Trey is extremely good at small talk, and soon enough the moment dissolves like morning dew.

You can’t help but pity it, cursing your own innactiveness.

Warm eyes inspect you without you noticing, critical but not antagonizing, waiting for an opening.

Then, something clicks.

“Prefect, I think I saw something in your teeth.”

“What!” You let out a gasp of embarrassment, hand shooting up to hide your momentary blemish.

“Now, let me see.”

He moves close to your face, slowly unpeeling your hand of your face.

“Open your mouth, please.”

He orders politely, not leaving you any choice.

You comply, his hand on your chin, and after a quick inspection, Trey speaks up.

“It seems I was mistaken. Apologies, Prefect.”

You close your mouth, but before you can thank him something warm graces your lips.

Bashfully, you close your eyes, his lips on yours like heaven.

His tongue slithers between your lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, memorizing them.

Treys warm lips leave yours, a cheeky grin replacing his former expression.

“Now I’m completely sure there’s nothing there. Thank you for collaborating.”

You give him an annoyed look and he merely chuckles in response.

Riddle

“Riddle, did you know there’s a New Years tradition of kissing someone at midnight?”

You ask, breaching the silence.

“I have heard of it. Mother always said it was a glorified disease spreader.”

He answers matter of factly, and you feel yourself deflating.

“Is that so.”

More silence. You shuffle your feet around, unsure on how to proceed.

As the seconds pass by, midnight and one minute inches closer.

“Please do not participate in such an activity, Prefect.”

You feel exasperation boiling over, like a petulant child being told by their parents what not to do.

“Why not, Riddle?! If you don’t want to, why shouldn’t I go find someone who wants!”

Riddles eyes widen, his face exploding in a fiery red color.

He clears his throat, doing his best to look you in the eye.

“You’re right, Prefect. I can’t tell you what to do. I just… I wouldn’t want you to do such a thing with someone else because I want to be the one that you… that you kiss.”

An exasperated plea, love and desperation coating his unsure voice.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach, thump thumping louder each time.

“Would you do the honor of letting me kiss you?”

Riddle asks, a wish and a request all at once.

“There’s no else I’d rather do it with.”

Even if midnight had already passed, Riddle and you still shared a New Years kiss, tinted with the flavor of strawberries.

Jack

“Prefect, you’re hurt.”

You looked down at your ankle, a bitter red pulsating under the supple skin.

“It’s fine. I think I just tripped earlier. Don’t worry about it.”

You smile at him winningly, but his worries are not soothed by your words.

Your feet are pulled out of the ground, a small gasp escaping your lips, as Jack picks you up.

He carries you to a small room and sits you down on a chair, unbothered by your flustered opinion.

“There’s a first aid kit here. Take off your shoe and give me your foot.”

You comply, even as redness creeps up and stains your feautures.

Jack starts applying some sort of cold cream, and then fixes you up with bandages, his hands unexpectedly tender despite their rough exterior.

“Thank you, Jack. I feel much better.”

“Good.”

He answers almost disinterestedly, his soft smile letting his true feelings shine.

“Sorry for making you miss the best part of new years.”

Your voice fails you as your mind scrambles to find the right words.

“I want to make it up to you.”

Slowly, very slowly, you approach his face, gauging his expression.

It remains painfully unmoving, but his tail waggers behind him, giving you all the confidence you need.

Lips on lips, gently like a flowers touch, you don’t let yourself get too carried away.

“We should probably go back.”

You comment.

He nods his head, a dust of pink gracing his cheeks, as he once again swoops you off the ground, his tail wagging the only assurance you need.

Ruggie

You feel your pocket rustling as Ruggie walks past you, too quick for you to catch up to him.

Rummaging through said pocket, you find your phone missing.

“Ruggie, come back!”

Perusing the room with your eyes like a detective inspecting the scene of a crime, you spot his tail peeking from behind a door.

Running as best as you can through the crowd of intermingling bodies, you reach the door and quickly slip in.

The room you slip into is empty and slightly dusty, unknown to the partygoers.

“Ruggie, where are you?! I saw you come here.”

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, warm and soft palms blocking your line of sight and reason.

“Caught ya. Shishishi.”

He laughs lightly near your ear, the baby hairs on your neck standing on edge.

“Can I have my phone back now?”

He laughs again.

“I can. But I have a price.”

His hands slid away from your eyes, and you turned around to him.

“Close your eyes, and you’ll get your phone back.”

Cheeks flaring up, you complied.

But instead of the cold metal of the phone sliding into your pocket, you felt the warm breath of the one you had long pinned for against your face.

And in no time at all, his lips on yours.

Leona

Leona’s languid gaze swept through your body, resting upon your face in the end, a lazy smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

“Isn’t there something you should be doing, herbivore?”

“Getting more fruit punch? I definitely should be doing that.”

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

His words made butterflies flutter in your stomach and your heart skip a beat, but your face remained calm and composed.

You would make him break first in this long lasting dance of yours.

Suddenly, he got close. Much too close, as your back hit the wall, one of his arms caging you in.

“Little herbivore, you can keep running and hiding, but sooner or later you’ll have to give in.”

You mulled over his words, a coy look decorating your face, innocence disguising your true intentions.

“If you’re not going to stop me, why should I? Maybe if I ask Malleus-”

Your words were cut off by his mouth on yours, a ferocious and heated kiss, his taste and smell invading your senses until you could no longer remember anything else.

“Are you going to ask that stupid lizard now?” he breathed out in bettwen kisses.

“Never.” you answered, pulling him closer by his collar.

Azul

“Ah, dear Prefect. Are you enjoying the Mostro Lounge new year party?”

He curtsied you with his hat, a perfect old timey gentleman.

“Indeed, I am. I wonder how this party has all my favourites coicidentally. Favorite beverage, favorite food, even my favourite color is part of the main decorations.”

You made sure to give him a significant look, his gaze unfaltering under your scrutiny.

“What interesting coincidences, aren’t they?”

His smile never faltered, ever so politely fake.

“Our vip lounge has some extra festivities that could be to your interest. Perhaps could I escort you there?”

“No, thank you. I’d rather go back to my friends.”

His smile fell momentarily, a shocked look on his face quickly covered by his suave persona.

“But I insist, Prefect.”

“And I insist on no. I have to go.”

Making your way through the room, you counted down from five in your head.

As it reached one, the twins appeared in the corner of your eye, turning into a makeshift wall, stopping you in your tracks.

“Heyaaaa, Shrympy. You have to go back to Azul, or he’ll surely blow a fuse.”

“That’s right, our esteemed guest. Our dear Azul is waiting for you.”

“Then tell him to come get me himself.”

The twins look at each other before swiftly dispersing.

In seconds, Azul appears, looking slightly frazzled.

“So dear Azul, did I ruin your perfect plan for new years? Let me guess, you wanted to take me to the vip lounge, butter me up, and then kiss me?”

Undeciferable emotions pass through his eyes like a carrousel as you simply smile at him mischievously.

His mouth moved, something about to be said, but you didn’t let him, kissing him before a sound could be uttered, and breaking away even faster, quickly shuffling away to the table where your friends sat, but not before saying one last thing.

“Happy new year, Azul. Let’s hope next year you can kiss me for a change.”

Jade

“Jade, there’s a strange mushroom in my glass.”

Jade smiled widely at you, eyes closed and hands politely folded.

“Is it so, now? May I see it?”

Handing him your cup, he observed the floating little fungi.

“Oh, dear. I’m not quite sure, but if this mushroom is the one I believe it is, it isn’t toxic per say, but it has serious side effects, such as vomiting and rashes.”

You raised one of your brows at him, his impassive face unfaltering.

“How could such a mushroom end up in the drink of a client at a restaurant? Seems very unlikely.”

“Unlikely but not impossible. Certain students of this school are known for their mischievous streak. But for now, what matters most is helping our esteemed customer.”

“And how can you help me?”

His eyes opened, he stared at you with his menacing smile, teeth barred for all to see.

“Thankfully, it is very simple. The victim of the mushroom must simply have the toxin extracted from the zone in the body where it went into contact with.”

“Right. And how do you do that?”

“A simple suction motion can do the trick.”

“Really, now? Then in other words I have to ask someone to suck on my lips?”

“If it is the mushroom with those side effects, yes. It could also be a completely normal mushroom.”

You felt like rolling your eyes at him, his obvious stunt endearingly annoying.

“Okay. Then suck it out of my lips.”

Your direct answer didn’t seem to faze him as he leaned into you, slightly sucking on your lips.

Heat crept up to your face, his lips becoming warmer and warmer against yours.

“Uhmm, I’m not quite sure if it is that mushroom after all. Maybe it’s another one. I’ll have to test it to be sure.”

You went to grab your cup again to show him the mushroom again, but he held your cheeks with his hand and kissed you, properly, this time.

His tongue licked the bottom of your lips, and finding your teeth pliant, delved deeper, tasting all it could.

As he pulled back, you asked him.

“What mushroom is it after all?”

“Just a normal mushroom used for cooking.”

With a little smirk, he answered, and leaned again to kiss you.

Floyd

“Shrimpy, Shrimpy, if you don’t kiss me right now I’m going to squeeze your dumb friends reallll hard.”

Floyd’s burning gaze flustered you harder than any of his words, leaving your brain to catch up to your ears.

“You are not doing that! And I am not kissing you under a threat!”

You argued back at him, watching his face turn from a pearly white grin to pouty.

“Come on, Shrimpyyyyy. It’s a tradition on land to kiss someone on new years and I wanna do it.”

“Then go do it with someone else.”

You replied, cheeks flaming at the idea, but to proud to go back on your words.

His pout deepened, and he raised his arms.

“You’re so cruel. I don’t want to kiss anyone else! I want to kiss you, ___.”

The sentence starts airy and whiny, childlike even, but ends with a poignant seriousness that makes your eyes meet his.

“Kiss me. And only me.”

He orders, hand on your shoulder.

You furrow your brows at him.

“Only if you ask politely.”

He ponders your words, but does not heed them, leaning into you and stealing a chaste kiss before running away.

“Hey! Get back here!”

You run after him, but his gigantic legs and lanky build let him get away, as he shouts in a sing-songy voice.

“Shrimpys kiss is mine!”

Kalim

“So I was there, in my potions class, and then this frog flew into my cauldron and-”

You sighed, Kalim’s mouth running wild as he kept telling you stories of his day to day.

Normally, you’d enjoy his jovial and light conversation, but right now you expected a little bit more.

“Oh gosh, look at the time! It’s past midnight!” He comments excitedly.

“The fireworks are starting right about now! Let’s go, Prefect!”

On the balcony of Kalims room, you stand side by side observing the fire works, their light illuminating the night sky and reflecting in your eyes.

You shyly try to take his hand, but he is to busy gesticulating them around, pointing to each image produced by the fireworks with such wonder as if he had never seen them.

As the show draws to a close, he finally turns fully to you, eyes filled with happiness and a desire to please.

“Did you enjoy it? Don’t you think it was just the most amazing firework show you have ever seen!”

You smiled at him, but no answer could be given, as the carpet beneath you both flew from underneath you, sending you both crashing down onto the ground.

Something soft hit your lips, and you opened your eyes to Kalims lips on yours.

He quickly leaned back, red covering his face.

“Oh my… that was nice, wasn’t it?”

“I think so too.”

You answered, still a bit dazed, the full brunt of the embarrassment not yet settled in.

“Can I do it again?”

Your eyes widened at his direct request, heart flying out of your chest.

“You can.”

Beneath the star lit sky, you kissed as many times as the stars would let you.

Jamil

“Are you still busy with Kalim?”

You asked, crossing your fingers in hope that Jamil could be yours, even if for just a minute.

“I’m afraid so. Kalim wanted to try a new drink, so I had to go prepare it.”

He gestured to the tray in his hand with his head, face umbetraying of any emotion.

Your own wasn’t so lucky, as you visibly deflated.

“Sorry to bother you then. I’ll go back to the refreshments table.”

Giving him a small smile, you started walking away.

His hand reached out, softly gripping yours.

“Give me a minute.”

You nodded, and watched as his back disappeared into the crow.

The sound of fireworks could be heard all around, overpowering any other noise, all the guests surrounding the windows and filling the balconies in hope of catching the best view, while you waited in the back.

As minutes ticked by, your hope depleted and your frown returned.

But your smile blossomed as you saw Jamil returning.

“I apologize for making you wait. Kalim wanted some more pillows.”

You held his hands on your own, softly brushing your thumb against the back.

“It’s fine. As long as I can steal you for just a bit.”

Silence reined bettwen you both, as the fire works raged on.

Soft gazes and tender hearts, you leaned closer and so did he, and sooner rather than later the silence was filled with a kiss.

Vil

“Dear, your makeup is smudged.”

Your eyes widened, searching for the nearest mirror.

“Where?! I swear, it must have been Ace with his stupid prank! I’m going to kill him!”

Taking a hand mirror out of his bag, Vil held it out for you to use.

“Thank you so much. I completely forgot mine!”

Seating on a random chair nearby, you started reapplying your eyeliner.

Vil watched you from the back, his reflection in the pocket mirror, even though small, imposing.

“I see you used the makeup I recommended. You sure do look splendid, my dear.”

“A compliment from you, Vil? My, I feel touched!”

You jested, a small laugh escaping the man behind you.

“I sure hope you do. I don’t hand out compliments that easily. Only to those who deserve it.”

His reflection in the mirror gets bigger as he keeps approaching you from the back, strands of blond hair draping over your shoulder.

“Turn to me. Let me help you with your lipstick.”

Face turned to the side, he felt even closer, amethyst eyes piercing through you and your makeup.

“Such a beautiful shade, isn’t it?”

“I think so too. And it barely stains, too!”

“I know, dear. But sometimes products are a little faulty and should be tested.”

His lips meet yours before you can even understand what’s going on.

Soft and fragrant, he moves away much too quickly, your head following his, even though you’re not connected anymore.

He laughs softly, a delicate and musical sound.

“So? Did it stain?”

You basfully inspect his lips, his makeup as pristine as if freshly put on.

“No. I don’t think so, at least.”

“Then shall we test it again? Any good products mustn’t be tested just once.”

“Of course.”

Your face flushes at his proposition, betraying you amd your willingness.

Vil doesn’t seem to mind, leaning down again and stealing another chaste kiss, and then another, and then another, until you can draw the shape of his lips with your heart.

Rook

“Ah, my little trickster! Enjoying the anne noveau? It’s a truly joyous ocassion!”

You smiled at Rook’s dramatics, deciding to humor him.

“And why is it so joyous?”

A mysterious glint lit up his eyes, mischievously charming.

“There’s this little traditión that certain people partake in during this occasion. A new years kiss. Have you heard of it?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Who knows?”

You smile at him, mischievously coy, playing around with your drink like one who isn’t quite sure how to answer.

“My little trickster, how you tempt me so.”

Using his thumb and pointer, he takes a hold of your chin delicately possessive of a prize that is not yet his.

“This temptation you have laid upon me, won’t you help me satiate it? Let this curiosity of mine rest?”

Your heart beats rapidly, bravado gone as your gaze was forced to battle with his, an evergreen intensity that made you crumble.

“Since it’s also a curiosity of mine… I’ll let you.”

His mischievous smile widened, and with unexpected ferociousness, locked his lips with yours.

His hot mouth felt like a burning inferno, burning you up from the inside and leaving you wanting for more, needing him more.

As you tried to deepen the kiss, he leaned back, perching a finger on your lips.

“Not now, my ___. Let’s wait a little while longer, shall we?”

Epel

Epel shuffled awkwardly in front of you, his fancy clothing clashing with his dour expression.

“What’s up, dude? You look way too sour. Did Vil make you wear that fancy suit?”

“Yeah. I look like some sorta fancy pastry with too much frostin’.”

You giggled at his words, shaking your head.

“I think you look rather nice. But you can always shed the tie if it’s really bothering you.”

“That’s a darn fine idea.”

He quickly shoves the tie down his pocket, visibly relaxing.

“Better?”

“Couldn’t be better. I can finally move freely! Thanks! I owe ya one.”

He moves away, as if to go back to the dancefloor but turns back and runs towards you.

“To hell with it!” you hear him mutter, before bashing his lips onto yours, pure drive behind his every move.

He pulls back, eyes wide and breathing erratically, surprise by actions of his own doing.

“You’re redder than an apple.” he comments, still looking bewildered.

“So are you.”

“Guess we matchin’ then.”

He smiles, all teeth and small dimples, and you smile back.

Idia

The beeps and boops of Idia’s phone were the only noises made from either of you, the tall man hunched over on the floor, back to the wall, like a child hiding from his parents.

“Aren’t you going to go celebrate the new years with everyone?”

Without taking his gaze from the screen he answers matter of factly.

“Nah. Gotta grind for the new years event. Gachas can totally bs with their event requirements.”

“Okay then.”

You kept your back to the wall, staring into the crowd up ahead, a pang of sadness weighting you down.

“Big Brother!” chirped a happy voice.

“And Prefect! Happy new year!”

Ortho beamed happily, circling you both excitedly like a little rabbit jumping around.

“Big brother, have you given ___ the kiss of new years yet?”

Idia’s fingers stop for the first time in the night, a red game over flashing on his screen.

“New years kiss?” you ask gently.

“Yes, Prefect. Big brother said it’s a quintessential part of any romance anime that has a new years episode! The epitome of end of season drama. So, has big brother kissed you yet?”

Said big brother is slowly slipping further and further down, glueing himself to the floor, fiery pink hair licking at your feet.

“Not yet, Ortho. But don’t worry about it. I’ll help him with it, ok?”

Ortho nodded and merrily skipped away, leaving you with his distraught older brother.

Crouching down, you got your face in front of his, his eyes closed shut.

“Am I getting my kiss now?”

He groaned loudly, slightly opening one eye to peek at you.

“This is not fair. You know my weak point. It’s cheating!”

You giggled at his conundrum, bending down to close the final space left bettwen you two, giving him a little peck on the lips.

“Next year, you give me the new years kiss alright?”

Groaning, he turned to the side and curled into a ball, slowly nodding his head.

Malleus

“I finally found you, Tsunotaoru!”

The tall fae stood in the middle of a lonely balcony, his only companion the smiling moon.

“Child of man. You have come to visit me?”

He asked, joy and sadness laced onto every word.

“Of course I have. It’s new years after all. And no one likes to spend new years alone.”

“That I do believe to be true. Sadly, there are too many years and not enough people to spend them with.”

Malleus longingly observed the moon, heavy fog of uneasiness seeping through the balcony.

You approached him, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“One day, only that moon will still be here with me. And even she mocks my plight, smiling radiantly upon any who walk below her.”

Stroaking his arm gently, you spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

“Perhaps that is a good thing. Perhaps one day, when the moon is the only that remains and she smiles at you, you’ll see the smile of everyone who used to smile at her too.”

Finally, he turned to you, holding your hand with a feather like touch.

“I quite like that sentiment, child of man. Even so, at least for tonight, I don’t wish to share with the moon. Tonight, shan’t you be only mine?”

A soft smile bloomed on your lips, your free hand caressing his face.

“Tonight, and forever.”

“Forever.”

His plush lips slotted perfectly onto yours, a warm kiss to truly last forever under the moonlight.

Silver

“Silver, wake up! It’s midnight!”

The silver haired man asleep on your shoulder remained so, the ruckus of the festivities almost like a lullaby to his tired mind.

“Oh, please, Silver!”

You shook him vigorously, and he finally awoke, startled.

“Prefect? Have I fallen asleep again?”

He looks around, in an unbotheredly lost way only someone who is used to falling asleep everywhere can have.

“Yeah, you did. And you missed the new years!”

“That’s fine. Every year there’s a new one. Besides, this year I have a higher priority.”

You raised a brow.

“A… higher priority?”

He nodded assertively.

“Father told me about this “new years kiss” tradition, and as such”- he got down on one knee in front of you, head bowed- “___, would you give me the honor of being my new year’s kiss?”

You stared at him, baffled and more than a bit unsure on how to react.

“Please get of the floor, Silver.”

“Is that a no?”

“I didn’t say that. I… I accept it.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as your almost sworn knight gets up from the floor and takes your hand in his.

“You’re rather beautiful,___.”

Face hot and stomach twirling, you can’t help but look away from his eyes.

“Please just kiss me already.”

“Of course.”

Closing his eyes, he gently presses his lips against yours, before promptly falling asleep on top of you.

You sigh, letting the man rest. Next year you’d get back at him.

Sebek

“HUMAN. HAVE YOU SEEN LORD MALLEUS! I WISH TO BE THE FIRST TO WISH HIM A HAPPY NEW YEAR.”

Sebeks voice boomed in your ear, and you feel the moment slip from your fingers like sand.

Annoyance creeps onto your voice and face, and you can’t help but shout back.

“I DON'T KNOW AND I DON'T CARE! LIKE YOU DON'T SEEM TO CARE ABOUT ANY OTHER PEOPLE! DON'T YOU HAVE FRIENDS TO THINK ABOUT?! OR EVEN… me?”

Anger leaves your voice, and only sadness and solitude remain.

Sebeks shocked face reflects in your eyes, tears welling up and forming a cristaline pool.

“Go find your lord or whatever. I’ll find someone else to spend my new years with.”

You run away from him, hiding in a dimly lit room, tears falling down your cheeks and staining the floor.

Some time passes, and someone knocks on the door before bursting in.

“HUMAN I- I have come to apologize. My behaviour was unbecoming and I’d…”

His whole face was flushed red, as he tried to get his next words out.

He adjusted his posture, standing straight and then bending down, in a perfect 90 degree angle.

“I would thourogly enjoy spending new years with you, if you would like!”

A smile creeps onto your face as you dry your tears with the back of your hand.

“Sebek?”

“YE-Ahem, yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you.

“WHAT?!”

You threw yourself at his arms, letting them surround you and hold you as you bash your lips onto his.

He shyly returns, unsure of what to do.

“Stay with me tonight?”

You ask, unsure.

“As long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

Lilia

“Young ___, enjoying the new year celebration ?”

Hearing him call you “young”, felt like a stab to the heart.

Lilia always seemed to see you as much too young, much to green, to ever see you as more.

“Yeah. I am. What about you?”

He smiled gently, swirling his glass.

“The new year is a time of change, supposedly. Of growth. But an old man like me can’t do much of those things anymore.”

He sipped on his glass, unbothered by the implications of his words.

“That’s not true. No matter your age, you can always change. Hopefully for the better! Besides, you aren’t that old, Lilia.”

A depressed smile decorates his feautures as he turns to you, so different from his mischievous ones you’re used to seeing.

“ What if I told you I was indeed that old, ___? Would you still want to stay here in hopes of a new years kiss? Of a romance with a fool long past his prime?”

Your eyes widen at his serious tone, no bitterness or happiness in it, nothing at all, just truly neutral questions.

Even so, you felt your conviction solidify.

“If the self proclaimed fool past his prime would at least entertain the idea of me actually being in love with him, he could believe me when I say, I want only you.”

A small incredulous laugh escapes the man by your side.

“Perhaps I should entertain that idea.”

“Not perhaps. You really should.”

You stare at him resolutely, his smile morphing into one of his familiar mischievous ones you liked so much.

“If that is the case, first I have to get a taste.”

In the blink of an eye, he had his lips on yours, warm and softly aggressive, his fangs perfurating your lips and leaving tiny dots of red blood behind.

The metallic taste lingered in your mouth even as he retreated.

“You taste rather appetizingly, ___.”

Your blood colors your cheeks as well as your lips, the perpetrator of both fixing a hair of yours behind your ear, blissfully aware of your bashfulness.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 34/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 8937

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The harsh blare of Jensen’s alarm shattered the cozy stillness of the morning. You stirred against his chest, groaning softly as you reached out to silence the offending noise, but Jensen beat you to it, fumbling blindly to swipe it off. As the room fell silent again, you blinked up at him, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

He looked exhausted, his green eyes heavy-lidded and rimmed with shadows that made him seem at least five years older. His stubble was slightly more pronounced in the dim morning light, and his usual easy smile was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a weary sigh as he ran a hand down his face.

“You look like you fought a war last night”, you teased gently, your voice still thick with sleep.

Jensen chuckled, the sound low and raspy as he tilted his head back against the cushions. “I feel like I did”, he admitted, his hand moving absently to rub your back. “Should’ve gone to bed earlier. But someone insisted on testing every inch of this couch”.

You smirked, shifting slightly to look up at him. “Pretty sure that someone was you”.

He gave a half-hearted shrug, his lips twitching into a faint grin. “Details”.

You pressed a soft kiss to his chest, your hand moving to trace lazy circles over his ribs. “You don’t have to go”, you murmured, your voice gentle. “You’re running on fumes. Stay and rest”.

Jensen shook his head, his fingers brushing through your hair as he looked down at you with a soft expression. “Can’t. I need to get back for the kids”. His voice was resolute, but the tiredness in it betrayed how much he wanted to stay.

You sighed, leaning up to rest your chin on his chest. “Just promise me you’ll take it easy when you get there. No running around or doing ten things at once. You’re not a superhero, you know”.

He grinned faintly at that, his hand sliding to cradle your face. “Not a superhero, huh?”, he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’re the first person who’s dared to say that to me”.

“Well, someone has to keep you grounded”, you teased, leaning into his touch.

Jensen’s grin turned mischievous as he leaned closer, his tired eyes sparkling just a little. “I seem to remember someone enjoying the Soldier Boy roleplay a little too much a few weeks ago”.

You froze for a second, the heat rising to your cheeks instantly. “Oh my god, Jensen!”, you muttered, covering your face with your hands. “We are not talking about that right now”.

“Oh, we absolutely are”, he replied, his chuckle deep and smug as he gently pulled your hands away from your face. “The way you looked at me in that uniform? You weren’t thinking about me being grounded, that’s for sure”.

You groaned, burying your face into his chest to avoid his knowing smirk. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up”, you mumbled against his skin, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed how much you were trying not to laugh.

“Manhandling you, tossing you around a bit—it’s what heroes do, right? I mean, I even stayed in character. You were very into it”.

You lifted your head, glaring playfully at him despite your still-flushed cheeks. “Okay, fine, yes—I liked it”, you admitted, throwing your hands up in defeat. “But that’s on you, not me. You looked too good in that uniform. It was distracting”.

Jensen’s laughter rumbled through his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “I’ll take that as a compliment”, he said, his tone smug but warm.

You smirked, feeling a wave of boldness rush through you as you placed your hands on Jensen’s chest and pushed him gently back against the mattress. He fell back with a mock look of surprise, his grin never faltering. Swinging your leg over, you straddled his stomach, settling on him with a triumphant smile as you leaned down slightly.

“So”, you began, your voice soft and teasing, “do you think I’ll ever get Soldier Boy back?”. You tilted your head, feigning shyness but grinning wickedly, fully aware of how you had him exactly where you wanted him.

Jensen’s eyes darkened instantly, his smirk shifting into something more mischievous. Without missing a beat, he let out a low, gravelly voice, slipping effortlessly into character. “Oh, sweetheart”, he drawled, his hands sliding up to grip your hips firmly. “You don’t get Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy gets you”.

Before you could react, his hand came down sharply on your ass with a loud smack, making you gasp in surprise. The sting was immediate, but the playful gleam in his eyes and the smirk tugging at his lips sent a shiver of excitement through you.

“Guess you forgot who’s in charge here”, he said, his tone dripping with filthy arrogance as his other hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you slightly closer, before turning the two of you. “Better start showing some respect, doll, or I might have to remind you”.

Your cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, and you couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled out of you. "Fuck, sober this is something else". Your voice was barely audible, and yet it betrayed the whirlwind of emotions rushing through you—nervousness, excitement, and arousal blending together in a way that made your heart race.

Jensen’s grin deepened, the mischievous gleam in his eyes growing even more intense. “Oh, doll”, he said, staying fully in character, his deep voice dripping with Soldier Boy’s signature arrogance. “You’ve got no idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into”.

He leaned down, his face mere inches from yours, his lips curling into a wicked smirk. “You’re blushing”, he drawled, his tone laced with amusement. “Guess someone likes a little discipline”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, trying to cover your face, but Jensen wouldn’t let you hide. He caught your wrists gently but firmly, pinning them above your head as he loomed over you, still embodying the cocky, commanding presence of Soldier Boy.

“Ah-ah”, he tsked, his voice dropping even lower. “None of that. You don’t get to hide from me”.

You were practically squirming beneath him now, your breath quickening as he held you in place. “Jensen”, you mumbled, your voice caught between teasing and pleading.

“Jensen?”, he repeated, his grin turning smug. “Sweetheart, that’s not the name you’re supposed to be calling me”.

Your face grew impossibly redder as you avoided his gaze, mumbling, “Oh my god, you’re really leaning into this”.

“As if I wouldn’t”, he shot back, his free hand sliding down to your hip, holding you steady. “What kind of actor would I be if I didn’t fully commit?”.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a smile as you looked up at him, unable to deny how effortlessly he’d fallen into the role. "You’re enjoying this way too much", you muttered.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned closer, his voice a seductive whisper against your ear. “You’re the one who asked for it, doll. Don’t act like you’re not loving every second”.

And damn it, he was right.

Minutes later, you found yourself in the warm steam of the shower, the water cascading over both of you. Your body was still buzzing, your face flushed and your skin marked in a telling shade of red from where “Soldier Boy” had left his signature touch—your hips, your breasts, your ass, everywhere he’d gripped, squeezed, or held you in place. Despite the stinging sensitivity, the memory of his intensity made your knees feel weak all over again.

Jensen stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back, his strong arms wrapping gently around your middle. One of his hands rested on your stomach, brushing over your skin in slow, soothing circles, while the other held you steady as the heat from the shower enveloped you both. His touch was soft now, a stark contrast to the dominance he’d shown earlier.

“You okay?”, he murmured into your ear, his voice low and gentle, breaking through the sound of the water. His lips brushed lightly against your temple, a silent reassurance of his care.

You nodded, leaning back into his chest, letting his presence ground you. “Yeah”, you whispered, your voice soft but steady. “More than okay”.

Jensen chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest against your back. “Didn’t push you too far, did I?”, he asked, his tone teasing but with a genuine edge of concern.

You turned your head slightly to look up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the heat still lingering in your cheeks. “No”, you assured him. “You were perfect. Maybe a little too good at it”.

That earned a low laugh from him, his hand sliding up to rest just beneath your ribs. “Told you I’m a professional”, he joked, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “But for real, you tell me if there’s ever anything you don’t want, okay? I mean that”.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and you reached up to rest your hand over his on your stomach. “I will”, you promised, your voice equally serious.

Jensen had already moved on to packing his suitcase, his movements purposeful but unhurried as he folded clothes and tucked them neatly inside. You sat on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in the towel from the shower, your skin warm and slightly flushed. The calm after the storm lingered in the room, a quiet intimacy that made you smile softly to yourself.

As you watched him, your eyes trailed over his familiar silhouette. Jensen had just pulled on a pair of dark jeans, leaving his upper body bare as he moved to grab a shirt from the nearby dresser. The way his muscles flexed with each movement made your heart skip a beat, and you found yourself lost in the moment, admiring him without saying a word.

Jensen glanced back over his shoulder and caught your gaze, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What?”, he asked, his tone playful as he held up a black t-shirt.

You shook your head, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned back on your hands. “Just admiring the view”, you teased, letting the towel slip slightly to reveal a bit more skin. “You clean up pretty well, Ackles”.

Jensen chuckled, pulling the shirt over his head and smoothing it into place. “Flattery will get you everywhere”, he replied, stepping closer to the bed and dropping his hands onto your knees. His touch was warm and steady, his thumbs brushing small circles against your skin. “But you’re making it really hard for me to leave when you look like that”.

You glanced down at yourself, the towel barely hanging on, and gave a small shrug. “Maybe that’s the plan”, you said softly, your tone playful but with a hint of longing.

Jensen crouched slightly so he was eye level with you, his hands sliding up to your thighs as he leaned in. “You’re not playing fair”, he murmured, his lips hovering close to yours. “You know how hard it is for me to walk away from you”.

“I hope so”, you whispered, your voice soft and tinged with emotion. Your hand reached up to brush along Jensen’s jawline, the familiar roughness of his stubble grounding you in the moment. “Because letting you go is hard for me too”.

Jensen’s gaze softened, and his hands tightened slightly on your thighs, his touch firm but tender. “You’re not making this any easier”, he admitted, his voice low and full of warmth. He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “This is the first time in weeks we’ll be apart".

You gave him a small, bittersweet smile, your fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s not forever”, you reminded him gently. “It’s just a few days. And then you’ll be back, and we’ll pick up right where we left off”.

Jensen opened his eyes, and the intensity in his green gaze sent a flutter through your chest. “You better believe I’m counting down the minutes”, he murmured, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt more like a promise than a goodbye.

When he pulled back, he sighed, resting his hands on your hips as if reluctant to let go. “You’ll be okay here, right? The house is huge, and it’s your first time here alone. If you need anything—”.

“I’ll be fine, Jensen”, you interrupted with a reassuring smile. “I’ve got the dog statue to keep me company, remember?”.

He laughed, the sound light and genuine, breaking through the tension. “Good ol’ bronze nightmare”, he said, shaking his head. “At least it’ll make sure no one sneaks in”.

You chuckled along with him, leaning in to press one last kiss to his lips. “Now go before I change my mind and barricade the door so you can’t leave”.

Jensen smirked, standing to his full height as he grabbed his suitcase. “Don’t tempt me”, he warned playfully. With a final lingering glance, he headed toward the door, pausing in the doorway to look back at you. “I’ll call you as soon as I land, okay?”.

You nodded, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “I’ll be waiting. Safe travels, Ackles”.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the house seemed to grow quieter, the absence of his presence already palpable. You sighed, standing up and moving to the window to watch as he loaded his suitcase into the cap.

It was just a few days, you reminded yourself. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of how much you’d already grown used to having him by your side, how much you’d miss him in even the smallest ways.

The next day, the house felt quieter—almost too quiet. Without Jensen’s easy laughter echoing through the halls or the warmth of his presence nearby, you realized just how much you’d come to rely on him being there. Breakfast was boring, the TV didn’t hold your attention, and every little task seemed to take twice as long because your mind kept wandering back to him.

Jensen had sent you a few pictures earlier in the day, each one tugging at your heartstrings in a different way. There was one of him with JJ perched on his lap, a goofy smile on both their faces as they held up their half-decorated gingerbread cookies. Another showed Arrow giggling as she smeared frosting on Jensen’s nose, and the last was Zeppelin, grinning triumphantly as he held up a hand-drawn Christmas card.

The photos made you smile, but they also left an ache in your chest—a longing to be part of those moments. To see the way Jensen’s eyes lit up when he was with his kids, to hear their laughter in person instead of imagining it from the snapshots.

You sighed, tossing your phone onto the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “This sucks”, you muttered to yourself, wrapping the throw blanket tighter around your shoulders. You wanted to text Jensen, to tell him how much you missed him, but you didn’t want to add to what was probably already a chaotic day for him. He deserved to enjoy his time with his kids without worrying about you feeling lonely.

Instead, you got up and wandered the house, hoping to distract yourself by finishing some of the little tasks you’d put off. You unpacked a few boxes, rearranged some of the kitchen shelves, and even found yourself dusting the bronze dog statue by the front door—a sure sign of just how bored you were.

Later in the afternoon, your phone buzzed, and you grabbed it eagerly, hoping it was Jensen. It was another picture, this time of the whole family sitting on the couch, watching a Christmas movie. Jensen’s caption read: “Wish you were here. Miss you like crazy”.

You clutched the phone to your chest, the ache in your chest softening slightly at his words. With a small smile, you typed back: “Me too. House feels empty without you. Also, I dusted the dog today. Don’t judge me”.

His reply came almost instantly: “I don’t know what’s more shocking—that you dusted or that you admit it. I love you”.

You smiled at Jensen’s reply, your fingers flying across the screen as you texted back:

“Love you too. Also, don’t act like the dusting isn’t a big deal. I’m practically a domestic goddess now. Have fun with the kids—don’t let them out-cookie you”.

You set your phone aside and stretched, trying to shake off the lingering loneliness. The photos of Jensen and the kids had left you craving a bit of the festive spirit, so you decided to channel your energy into something fun—baking cookies. Even if they were just for you, it would be a good way to pass the time and maybe cheer yourself up.

You wandered into the kitchen and pulled out the ingredients from the cabinets and fridge, grateful for the well-stocked pantry that Jensen insisted on setting up during one of his “let’s hire someone” phases. The sight of flour, sugar, and chocolate chips laid out on the counter brought a spark of excitement. Maybe you weren’t the world’s best baker, but you could definitely manage a batch of cookies.

As you worked, the kitchen began to fill with the comforting aroma of vanilla and melted butter. You hummed along to a playlist you’d put on in the background, rolling dough into imperfect little balls and popping them into the oven. The rhythmic act of measuring, mixing, and shaping cookies soothed your mind, and for the first time all day, you felt a little less alone.

When the first tray of cookies came out, golden and fragrant, you couldn’t help but smile at your handiwork. You snagged one immediately, blowing on it to cool before taking a bite. It was still warm, the chocolate gooey and perfect, and you let out a little hum of satisfaction. Maybe baking wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Your phone buzzed on the counter, pulling you from your thoughts. It was Jensen again.

“What are you up to now? Don’t tell me you’re cleaning the dog statue again”.

You grinned, taking a picture of the cookies on the counter and sending it back with the caption:

“Nope. Just baked cookies. You’re missing out”.

His reply came a moment later:

“Not fair. Save some for me, alright?”.

You texted back:

“Only if you promise to hurry home. No guarantees otherwise”.

Jensen’s response was immediate and made your chest warm:

“Deal. Miss you more than cookies”.

Christmas Day had arrived, but instead of the warmth and excitement you usually associated with the holiday, the house still felt far too quiet. Dressed in one of Jensen’s ridiculously expensive sweaters—it still smelled like his cologne even after washing—you curled up on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, and clicked through Christmas movies. The scent of him brought a bittersweet comfort, making you miss him even more.

The loneliness felt sharper today. You’d thought about visiting your family, but the idea of sitting through another round of prying questions about your love life felt unbearable. And Jensen… well, he was still a secret you weren’t ready to share, not while everything was still so complicated. So, instead, you’d resolved to spend the day alone, letting yourself melt into the world of feel-good holiday rom-coms and sugary cookies you’d baked the day before.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, you knew Jensen was enduring a very different kind of holiday chaos. He’d texted you early in the morning, a photo of JJ and Arrow excitedly tearing through wrapping paper, with a simple caption:

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Miss you so much”.

You’d replied with a quick selfie of yourself in his sweater, holding a mug of hot chocolate:

“Merry Christmas. Love you. But I think your sweater misses you more".

But since then, you hadn’t heard much from him. You suspected why.

Danneel was in her element during the holidays, or at least the version of the holidays she wanted the world to see. You could picture it all too clearly: the forced family photos, the perfectly curated videos of the kids opening presents, the captions about being “blessed”. Everything about it would be carefully staged for social media, a façade of a happy family. It didn’t matter that their marriage was on its last legs—appearances were everything.

Jensen had vented to you about it before, about the pressure to play along just a bit longer. But it still stung to think of him standing next to her in those photos, smiling like everything was fine, while you were here missing him so much it hurt.

You clicked aimlessly through Netflix, barely paying attention to the movie playing in the background. Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, and you reached for it, hoping it was Jensen. Instead, it was a new post from Danneel on Instagram. Against your better judgment, you opened it.

There it was: a perfectly framed family photo in front of a lavishly decorated Christmas tree. Jensen stood beside Danneel, his arm around JJ while Arrow and Zeppelin grinned at the camera. Danneel’s caption read:

“Merry Christmas from our family to yours. Grateful for another beautiful holiday together ❤️🎄”.

Your chest tightened, and you quickly closed the app, setting your phone down with a little more force than necessary. You knew it was just for show, but seeing it still stung. Jensen had promised you things were ending with Danneel, but moments like these made it hard not to feel like an afterthought.

The sound of the movie faded into the background as you pulled the sweater tighter around yourself, curling up into a smaller ball on the couch. It was just one day, you reminded yourself. Tomorrow, Jensen would call. Tomorrow, this would all feel a little easier.

You sat staring at the Christmas lights blinking softly in the dim room, trying to lose yourself in the comforting warmth of the sweater that smelled so much like Jensen. But when your phone buzzed again on the coffee table, a faint flicker of dread passed through you. You already knew what it was.

You reached for your phone hesitantly, opening the message from Jensen:

“Heads up. She’s posting some… staged stuff. Don’t let it mess with you. I hate it as much as you do”.

Your chest tightened, your fingers gripping the phone tighter. You appreciated the warning, but it didn’t fully prepare you for what came next. Against your better judgment, you opened Instagram again and found the new post from Danneel.

It was a picture of her and Jensen standing in front of the Christmas tree, the kids in the background opening presents. She was turned toward him, their faces close, and her lips brushed against his in a way that looked both intimate and entirely deliberate. The caption read:

“Holiday traditions with the ones I love most ❤️🎄 #FamilyFirst”.

Your stomach dropped. You knew it wasn’t real—knew Jensen’s relationship with her was over in every way that mattered. But seeing the image, seeing her hands on him, her lips so close to his, hit harder than you expected. The ache in your chest turned sharp, a mix of jealousy and doubt creeping in despite your better judgment.

Your fingers hovered over your phone screen, debating whether to say something to Jensen. He’d warned you. He’d told you it was all for show. But it didn’t stop the image from clawing its way into your mind, feeding into insecurities you hadn’t even realized were still there.

You sighed deeply, setting your phone down and curling further into the couch. You trusted Jensen, but the life he was still partially tethered to felt suffocating at times like this.

The weight of the day clung to you as you finally decided to head to bed early. Staying awake, scrolling through your phone, and letting your thoughts spiral would only make things worse. You turned off the TV, the soft glow of the Christmas lights fading into the darkened room as you padded to the bedroom. Climbing into the bed you shared with Jensen, you wrapped yourself in the familiar scent of his pillow, clinging to the thought that in just two days, he’d be home. That was your lifeline—a reminder that this situation wasn’t permanent.

You tried to focus on the fact that Jensen hated the staged images just as much as you did. He wasn’t the one choosing to post them. He was stuck in a situation he didn’t want to be in, but it didn’t make the ache in your chest disappear. It was easier to close your eyes and will the hours to pass quickly.

Meanwhile, in Connecticut, the tension in the house had reached a boiling point. The kids were fast asleep, their Christmas excitement finally wearing them out, leaving Jensen and Danneel alone in the living room. Jensen was still in the clothes he’d worn all day, his sleeves rolled up and his jaw clenched as he sat on the edge of the couch, a stack of papers in his hand.

“Why are we still doing this?”, he said, his voice low but taut with frustration. “We’ve had these same conversations over and over. You keep stalling. You agreed to this, Danneel”.

Danneel stood near the fireplace, her arms crossed defensively. She looked poised, her makeup still perfect despite the late hour, but her voice carried a sharp edge. “I told you, I’m not signing until I know what’s best for the kids”.

“And this circus on social media?”, Jensen shot back, holding up his phone briefly before tossing it onto the coffee table. “That’s what’s best for them? Making it look like we’re still a happy little family?”.

“They don’t need to see their parents tearing each other apart”, she countered, her tone icy. “They need stability, Jensen”.

“What they need is fucking honesty”, he replied, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself, glancing toward the hallway where the kids were sleeping. He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dragging this out, playing house for Instagram, it’s not helping them. It’s confusing them. And it’s making it harder for me to move on”.

The words hung heavy in the air, their double meaning clear. Danneel’s eyes flickered with a mix of hurt and defiance. “Move on”, she repeated bitterly, her arms tightening around herself. “You mean with her”.

Jensen looked at her, his expression softening just slightly. “This isn’t about her. It’s about us. About ending this in a way that doesn’t destroy everything. But you’re making it impossible”.

Danneel, her composure already teetering from too many glasses of wine, grew visibly more agitated as the conversation spiraled. Her cheeks were flushed, her movements sharper and more erratic. She had crossed the line from defensive to outright combative, her words no longer measured but biting.

“Oh, you think you’re so noble, don’t you?”, she snapped, pacing in front of the fireplace, her glass sloshing slightly as she gestured. “You’re the one who walked away, who decided you were done. And now, because you’ve moved on, I’m supposed to just roll over and make it easy for you?”.

Jensen sat back, his jaw tightening as he watched her unravel. He exhaled deeply, trying to maintain some semblance of control despite his own growing frustration. “This isn’t about me”, he said firmly, his voice low but steady. “It’s about the kids. About giving them a stable environment—”.

“Don’t you dare lecture me about stability!”, she interrupted, her voice rising sharply. “I’ve been holding this family together while you’ve been off playing house with her!”.

Jensen’s patience finally snapped, and he stood, towering over her as his voice grew louder. “Holding this family together? Are you serious, Danneel? This isn’t holding anything together—it’s dragging it through the mud. We’re pretending for the sake of appearances, and it’s toxic. For us. For the kids. For everyone”.

Danneel’s face twisted into a bitter smile, and she placed her glass down with a loud clink before walking to the coffee table. She snatched the stack of papers, her hands shaking as she flipped through them. “Fine”, she spat, her voice dripping with venom. “You want this so fucking badly? You want out? Here!”.

Without hesitation, she grabbed a pen from the table and scrawled her signature across the necessary lines, the sound of the pen scratching against the paper harsh and final. When she was done, she ripped the pages free and hurled them at Jensen, the papers fluttering briefly in the air before hitting him square in the chest.

“There!”, she said, her voice breaking as she turned back toward the fireplace. “Merry fucking Christmas, Jensen!”.

Jensen caught the papers as they fell, his expression a mixture of shock, frustration, and a flicker of relief. He looked down at the signatures, his hand tightening around the edges of the documents. For a moment, he said nothing, letting the weight of her words hang in the air.

“Thank you”, he said finally, his voice calm but heavy. He straightened, gathering the papers carefully before turning toward the stairs. “I’ll stay here tonight for the kids, but after tomorrow, I’m gone. I’ll figure out a way to tell them in the least painful way possible”.

Danneel didn’t respond, her shoulders stiff as she stared into the fire, her back to him.

Jensen turned and walked upstairs, clutching the papers tightly in his hand. As he reached the guest room, he let out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. It was over. Finally. The thought brought so much relief as he sat on the edge of the bed. His mind wandered to you, the only person who made him feel grounded and whole in the chaos.

His first instinct was to reach for his phone, to call you and hear your voice. You were the one constant, the one thing that always made sense in the chaos of his life.

He dialed your number, the familiar sequence offering a brief moment of comfort. But after a few rings, it went straight to voicemail. His shoulders sagged slightly, realizing you were likely asleep. He smiled faintly, imagining you curled up in his sweater, probably with the TV still playing softly in the background.

“Hey”, he said after the beep, his voice quiet but warm. “I just… I needed to hear your voice, even if it’s just your voicemail. It’s done. She signed the papers tonight. It wasn’t pretty, but it’s over. I know it’s late, so I’ll let you sleep. Just… two more days, baby. I’ll be home soon. I love you”.

He ended the call and set his phone on the nightstand, the faint glow of the screen illuminating his face for a moment before the room was plunged back into darkness. He lay back on the unfamiliar bed, staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts continued to race. Relief, sadness, guilt, and hope all battled for space in his mind, but the image of you—the way you’d smiled at him, the way you’d whispered his name—was the one thing that brought him peace.

Jensen closed his eyes, exhaustion finally pulling him under as he held onto the thought of you, counting down the hours until he could be by your side again.

The next morning, you woke up with a groggy sense of calm, your limbs tangled in the blankets as the morning light filtered softly through the curtains. You reached for your phone instinctively, still lying in bed, and saw the notification for Jensen’s voicemail. A small smile tugged at your lips as you opened it, his familiar voice immediately sparking warmth in your chest.

“I just… I needed to hear your voice, even if it’s just your voicemail. It’s done. She signed the papers tonight…”.

His words ignited a spark inside you, your heart racing as he continued. Relief flooded through you at the news, and the way he ended with "I love you" made your chest tighten with emotion. You sat up in bed, clutching the phone, eager to call him back and hear more about what had happened.

But before you could press the call button, a sudden wave of nausea hit you hard. Your stomach lurched, and you barely had time to toss your phone onto the bed before you bolted for the bathroom. Kneeling over the toilet, you clutched the cool porcelain, your body trembling as you heaved, the nausea relentless.

It took a few moments for the sickness to subside, leaving you weak and slightly disoriented. You sat back on your heels, wiping your mouth with a tissue as you tried to steady your breathing. The lingering taste of bile made your stomach churn again, but this time, it was more manageable.

“What the hell…”, you murmured to yourself, leaning against the wall as you tried to piece together why you’d felt so suddenly ill. You hadn’t eaten anything unusual the night before, and you’d been feeling fine up until now.

Your gaze flicked back to the bedroom, where your phone still rested on the bed. Jensen’s words echoed in your mind, reminding you of the steady comfort he brought even in moments like this. You decided to shake off the nausea and call him back, your heart still racing from his voicemail and the realization that his life was moving closer to the one you were building together.

You grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen to rinse your mouth and steady your nerves, then picked up your phone, ready to hear his voice again.

You held your phone to your ear, waiting as the call rang and rang, but Jensen didn’t answer. A flicker of disappointment crossed your face, but you quickly reminded yourself that he was likely busy with the kids or catching up on much-needed rest after the exhausting events of the night before. Still, a small part of you had hoped to hear his voice right away.

Setting the phone down on the counter, you made your way back to the bathroom to freshen up. Turning on the faucet, you let the water run cold as you grabbed your toothbrush and began brushing your teeth. The lingering nausea was still fresh in your memory, and you figured getting cleaned up might help shake off whatever this weird feeling was.

But as you stared at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t ignore it: something felt… off. It wasn’t just the nausea anymore—it was a strange mix of fatigue and unease that settled in your chest. You paused mid-brush, frowning slightly as you tried to piece together why you felt so out of sorts.

Maybe it was the stress of the past few weeks finally catching up with you. Between moving into the new house, navigating the complexities of Jensen’s situation, and spending Christmas alone, it wasn’t surprising that your body might be reacting to it all. But even as you tried to rationalize it, a nagging thought lingered at the back of your mind.

Your hand rested on the counter as you leaned forward, taking a slow, deep breath to center yourself. “Get it together”, you mumbled, rinsing your mouth and splashing cold water on your face. The chill jolted you slightly, but it didn’t completely shake the fog settling over you.

Still, you brushed it off, telling yourself it was nothing a little food and fresh air couldn’t fix. Grabbing your phone again, you checked to see if Jensen had called back, but there was still no response. You sent him a quick text instead:

“Hope everything’s okay. Call me when you can. I miss you”.

With that, you decided to focus on starting your day, even though the gnawing sensation in your gut refused to leave entirely.

The sound of your key in the door seemed louder in the quiet house, and as you stepped inside, balancing grocery bags in both hands a few hours later, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks. Jensen stood against the kitchen counter, a cookie halfway to his mouth, his green eyes lighting up when he saw you. He looked like he hadn’t slept much, but his presence immediately filled the house with warmth.

“Hey”, he said, his voice soft but carrying that familiar note of comfort. “Surprise”.

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Jensen? You—”, you paused, setting the bags down on the counter. “You’re not supposed to be back until tomorrow”.

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Caught an earlier flight”, he said simply, popping the cookie into his mouth and brushing his hands on his jeans. “Wanted to be home”.

The words sent a warm flutter through your chest, but the lingering soreness and nausea in your stomach reminded you that you weren’t exactly in your best shape to enjoy the moment.

Jensen stepped away from the counter, closing the space between you with a few long strides. His hands found your waist, his touch gentle yet grounding as he pulled you closer. His green eyes searched your face, concern mingling with curiosity as he tilted his head slightly.

“What’s going on?”, he asked softly, his voice low and steady. “I thought you’d be happy to see me. Especially with the divorce papers finally signed”.

His words hung in the air, and you blinked up at him, your chest tightening at the realization of what that meant. He’d done it—he’d closed that chapter of his life. Relief and gratitude swelled in you, but the lingering queasiness in your stomach dulled the joy just slightly.

“I am happy to see you”, you said, your voice a little shaky as you rested your hands on his chest. “I just… wasn’t expecting you so soon. And… I’m feeling a little off today”.

Jensen frowned, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as his brows knitted together. “Off how?”, he asked, his voice laced with concern. “You sick? Something happen?”.

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to worry him more than necessary. “No, nothing like that”, you reassured him. “Just some stomach stuff. Probably… I don’t know, stress”.

He studied you for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

There was a pause as his eyes searched your face, his expression tender and filled with concern. Then, he leaned in to kiss you, a familiar gesture that usually brought comfort—but this time, you instinctively flinched, your body stiffening against him.

The movement was subtle but unmistakable, and it threw Jensen completely off. He froze, his brows knitting together once more, as he stepped back slightly, his hands still resting gently on your waist. “Hey”, he murmured, his voice laced with confusion and a tinge of hurt. “What was that?”.

You looked away, your heart sinking as you realized what had just happened. The image of the staged photo—the one of him and Danneel kissing—flashed in your mind again, unbidden and sharp. You’d told yourself it didn’t matter, that you understood it wasn’t real, but clearly, it had left a mark deeper than you’d thought.

“It’s nothing”, you said quickly, trying to brush it off, but your voice lacked conviction. “I’m just… I don’t know. It’s been a weird couple of days”.

Jensen tilted his head, his concern deepening as he gently tipped your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “That’s not nothing”, he said quietly, his voice steady but firm. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”.

You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat as you tried to put your feelings into words. “It’s stupid”, you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

You opened your mouth to say more, to try and explain, but the words got caught in your throat. Before you could force anything out, a wave of nausea hit you like a freight train, making your stomach churn violently. Without a second thought, you pushed Jensen’s hands away, clutching your stomach as you spun on your heel and bolted toward the bathroom.

“Hey!”, Jensen called after you, his voice laced with worry. You barely registered it, the urgency in your body overtaking everything else.

You made it to the bathroom just in time, falling to your knees in front of the toilet as your body betrayed you. The sickness came in waves, leaving you clutching the porcelain for support as you struggled to catch your breath between bouts. Your head spun, and your heart raced, the abruptness of it all making it impossible to focus.

A moment later, you felt Jensen’s presence behind you. He didn’t say a word at first, simply kneeling beside you and brushing your hair back from your face with gentle fingers. His other hand rested lightly on your back, rubbing soothing circles as you trembled.

Jensen’s voice was soft and steady, laced with concern as he leaned closer, his hand never stopping the gentle motion against your back. “Baby, what’s that?”, he whispered, his other hand brushing a few damp strands of hair away from your face. The warmth in his touch was grounding, but the worry in his tone only made your chest tighten further.

You shook your head weakly, still clutching the toilet as your stomach twisted uncomfortably. “I… I don’t know”, you managed to croak out, your voice hoarse. “It just hit me so fast”.

Jensen frowned, his hand stilling briefly before resuming its soothing pattern on your back. “Have you been feeling like this all day?”, he asked softly, his voice a mix of worry and frustration, like he was trying to piece everything together. “You said you were off earlier. Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”.

You turned slightly, leaning back against the cool bathroom wall as the nausea slowly began to ebb. “I didn’t think it was anything”, you admitted, your eyes meeting his. “Just felt bloated and sore. I thought it would pass”.

Jensen sighed, crouching closer so he could look at you more fully. His green eyes searched your face, scanning for any sign of what was causing this. “This isn’t nothing”, he said firmly but gently.

You sighed, letting the words spill out before you could stop yourself. “It’s just the stress, Jensen”, you mumbled, your voice low and weary. “You try spending Christmas all by yourself while your boyfriend’s out there kissing his wife for everyone to see”.

The second the words left your mouth, you froze, your eyes widening as you realized what you’d just said. Heat flooded your face as you looked away from him, clutching the edge of the bathroom counter for something to focus on. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud—not like that, not now. The air between you felt charged, thick with the weight of your unintended confession.

Jensen sat back on his heels, stunned into silence for a moment. The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel his gaze on you, his hands stilling completely. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, filled with a mix of guilt and understanding. “Baby…”.

You shook your head, your voice coming out softer this time, almost a whisper. “I didn’t mean to say that. I just… it’s been a lot, you know? I know it wasn’t real, and I know why you had to do it, but seeing that picture—it hurt more than I thought it would”.

Jensen exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging as he reached for your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours. “I should’ve handled it better”, he admitted, his tone heavy with regret. “I thought giving you a heads-up would help, but I didn’t realize how much it’d still hurt you. That’s on me”.

You turned back to the sink, brushing your teeth with deliberate focus, the tension in the room still thick between you. “It’s not your fault”, you mumbled through the toothpaste, your voice soft but certain. After rinsing your mouth, you grabbed a towel and wiped your face, avoiding Jensen’s gaze as you turned toward the door.

“Where are you going?”, he asked gently, his voice laced with concern.

“To the living room”, you replied quietly, without looking back. “I just… I need a minute”.

Jensen stayed kneeling in the bathroom for a moment after you walked out, running a hand through his hair and letting out a heavy sigh. This wasn’t how he’d imagined coming home earlier than planned. He’d been in such a good mood, finally having the divorce papers signed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He’d thought you’d be happy to see him, that the two of you could finally start thinking about the future without the shadow of his past hanging over everything. But now this.

He stood slowly, following you into the living room where you were already curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the muted TV. The sight of you—so small, so clearly hurting—made his chest ache. He hated this. Hated that something he’d done, even if unintentionally, had caused you pain.

Jensen walked over and sat down next to you, his body close but not touching, giving you space to breathe. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, the quiet between you broken only by the soft hum of the television.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you”, he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “You have to know that. Every time she pushes for these public things, I hate it. I hate pretending. I hate what it does to you”.

You glanced at him, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. “I know”, you said softly, your tone lacking its usual strength. “I know it’s not what you want. But it doesn’t make it easier to see”.

Your heart ached seeing the regret etched on Jensen’s face. You hadn’t meant to make him feel this way—he was the one person who always made you feel safe, secure, and loved. Now, you couldn’t bear the thought of him blaming himself for something so far out of his control.

Without thinking, you shifted closer, crawling onto his lap and settling yourself there. Jensen’s body tensed briefly in surprise, but his arms instinctively wrapped around you as you pulled them close, holding them firmly around your waist. You buried your face against his chest, your words muffled but filled with emotion.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, your voice shaky. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just—everything’s been so overwhelming, and the nausea threw me off, and then that picture…”.

You felt his grip tighten around you as he leaned back slightly, resting his chin on the top of your head. His hand began rubbing slow circles on your back, silently urging you to continue.

“I’m so glad you’re here”, you said, your voice cracking slightly. “I was feeling so alone, and seeing you walk through that door—it meant everything. But I’ve been such a mess today, and I took it out on you, and I didn’t mean to…”.

“Hey”, Jensen interrupted gently, his voice steady and soothing as he tilted your chin up so you could meet his gaze. “Stop. You don’t have to apologize for feeling what you feel. This isn’t on you, okay? It’s on me for not being here sooner. For not making things clearer”.

You shook your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “No, Jensen. It’s not you. You’ve done everything right—it’s just me getting in my head and overthinking. I hate that I’m making this harder for you”.

Jensen leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to reassure you without words. “You’re not making anything harder”, he murmured. “You’re the reason I want all this. The reason I’m fighting so hard to move forward”.

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, melting away some of the doubt that had clung to you all day. You let out a shaky breath, resting your head against his chest once more as his arms tightened around you.

“I love you”, you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. It wasn’t the first time you’d said it, but it carried a different weight now—one born out of vulnerability and truth.

Jensen smiled softly, his hand brushing through your hair. “I love you too”, he said, his voice steady and sure. “And I’m here now. No more pretending, no more staged pictures. Just us”.

You nodded, the tension in your body finally beginning to ease as you let yourself relax in his embrace. In that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the quiet promise of better days ahead.

Jensen’s arms stayed securely around you, holding you close as the minutes stretched into something quiet and comforting. His chin rested lightly on your head, and the steady rhythm of his breathing was almost enough to lull you to sleep. But then he broke the silence, his voice a low murmur against your hair.

“By the way”, he said softly, the warmth in his tone unmistakable, “those cookies you made? Damn good. I had one earlier while you were out. Might’ve had two… or three”-

You let out a quiet laugh, lifting your head to look at him. “You didn’t even wait for me to get home?”.

He grinned, the corners of his green eyes crinkling. “Couldn’t help it. They were calling my name. You’ve got a real gift, sweetheart”.

The praise made your cheeks flush with warmth, but then your mind wandered to the groceries you’d brought in earlier. Your eyes widened as the realization hit you.

“Shit”, you mumbled, scrambling to get off his lap. Jensen’s hands fell away reluctantly, and he watched you with mild amusement as you hurried toward the kitchen.

“What’s going on?”, he asked, standing up and following you.

“The groceries”, you called over your shoulder. “They’re still sitting on the counter. God, I hope nothing’s gone bad”.

Jensen leaned against the doorway as you began unpacking the bags, his grin widening as he watched you move quickly, pulling out various items. “You’re cute when you’re in panic mode, you know that?”.

“Shut up”, you muttered, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your attempt at being annoyed.

He stepped closer, grabbing a few items from the bags to help. “What’d you get, anyway?”, he asked, peeking at the contents. “Anything good?”.

Jensen reached into one of the bags, pulling out a small, wrapped package and holding it up with a curious tilt of his head. “Mmm, what’s that?”, he asked, his tone playful as he examined it.

You glanced over your shoulder and rolled your eyes when you saw what he was holding. “It’s tea”, you said, reaching to grab it from him, but he held it just out of reach.

“Tea?”, he repeated, grinning as he turned the package over in his hands. “What kind of tea requires this fancy packaging? You sure this isn’t some secret gourmet chocolate?”.

“It’s for my stomach”, you explained, trying to stifle a laugh as you reached for it again. “You know, the stomach you apparently traumatized with your dramatic Instagram antics?”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

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[possessedmen]

Golfing With The Boss

On a bright, sunny afternoon, Michael found himself at the local golf course with his boss, Mr. Hawke, for what was initially meant to be a professional outing. This outing took an unexpected turn as he noticed Mr. Hawke's behavior was unusually relaxed, almost playful, a stark contrast to his usual stern demeanor.

The game continued until Michael's ball landed in a tricky spot. As he approached to retrieve it, he was met with a sight that made his heart race—Mr. Hawke was sitting in the golf cart, barefoot, his feet stretched out in the sun. The shock of seeing his boss in such an intimate state was quickly replaced by a rush of excitement, as Michael had always had a particular fascination with feet.

Then, a chill ran down his spine as he realized the truth. The playful posture, the familiar glint in the eye—it wasn't Mr. Hawke; it was Jake, his late boyfriend indulging in their shared fantasy where Michael would always worship his feet.

"Jake?" Michael whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of surprise and longing.

"Hey, Mikey," came the reply in Mr. Hawke's voice but with Jake's characteristic warmth. But before Michael could process this reunion, Mr. Hawke's colleagues arrived, inadvertently exposing Jake's possession. Jake quickly shifted back to mimicking Mr. Hawke’s stern demeanor, covering up the situation with a laugh about wanting to feel the grass underfoot.

Once they were alone again, Jake, still in control of Mr. Hawke's body, decided to resume their old game, adopting a dominant tone. "Michael, you know the rules. If you want that promotion, you'll have to earn it. And from now on,you'll address me by my first name, Robert. On your knees, now."

Compelled by both his desire and the familiar roleplay, Michael knelt before Robert's feet, his hands trembling with anticipation. Jake, through Robert, continued, "Worship them, like you used to worship Jake’s, or consider yourself fired."

Michael began to caress, kiss, and lick Robert's feet, each touch a homage to their shared fantasy. He traced his tongue along the arches, sucked gently on the toes, and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent that, in his mind, was Jake's.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows, Jake's voice softened but remained authoritative, "Good, Mikey. Now, let's see if you're worthy of that promotion, and remember, it's Robert from now on."

Leading Michael to a secluded part of the field, Jake, in Robert's body, became more assertive. He pushed Michael down onto the soft grass, his hands firm yet loving, reminiscent of Jake's touch during their roleplay sessions. Jake, still pretending to be the stern boss, began to undress Michael slowly, each piece of clothing removed with a deliberate, commanding motion, reinforcing the power dynamic they both enjoyed.

"Strip me, Michael," Jake ordered, and Michael complied, his hands trembling as he unbuttoned Robert's shirt, revealing the body that housed his lover's spirit. Once they were both naked, Jake positioned himself over Michael, his eyes locked onto his with an intensity that was all Jake.

With a firm grip, Jake guided himself into Michael, the sensation overwhelming as Michael felt the familiar yet foreign touch of Jake through Robert's body. Jake moved with a rhythm that was both commanding and tender, his feet occasionally brushing against Michael's skin, a teasing reminder of their game.

"Tell me you're mine, Mikey, and that you'll do anything to keep your job," Jake whispered, his breath hot against Michael's ear. Michael, lost in the moment, moaned his affirmation, "I'm yours, Robert, always. I'll do anything."

Their lovemaking was intense, with Jake taking control, his thrusts deep and deliberate, mixing dominance with the fulfillment of Michael's fetish. The field around them was silent, their connection the only sound, a symphony of gasps and whispers. Jake's hands roamed, but his feet were never far from Michael's reach, allowing him to occasionally kiss or touch them, heightening the experience.

As they reached their climax, Jake's spirit seemed to pulse with energy, his possession deepening as if he was claiming not just the moment but the body itself. "I want to stay, Mikey. I want to keep this body, so we can still be together," Jake murmured as they lay entwined on the grass, his voice a mix of plea and command.

Michael, overwhelmed by the encounter and the fulfillment of his deepest desires, nodded, his heart heavy with the implications but unable to deny the connection they had just shared. "Stay with me, Ja– Robert," he whispered, sealing their fate as the new Robert responded “Consider yourself promoted, and pack your things to live with me.”

[doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou]

Anywhere I Want

> melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

> requested? no

> content/warnings: idk an unfinished curse?

> a/n: please please please tell me what you want me to do with this one, a series? stay as it is what it is? TELL MEEEE

“That’s a nice necklace, Mel! Where’d you get it?” Was Jacob’s greeting to Melissa as she sauntered towards her Barb’s table in the teacher’s lounge, making Melissa glance down at her chest— seeing the flower shaped pendant sitting still on her sternum.

“What’s it to ya, pipsqueak?” said Melissa, receiving a light slap on the arm from Barb. “He’s just asking. No need for that sour mood when the Lord has given us this sunny day to enjoy!” smirking and shaking her head at Barb’s statement, Melissa turned her attention back to Jacob.

“Wanna ask again?”

“Where’s that from?” asked Jacob as he leaned his head on his arm. “Italy.”

Huffing at Melissa’s vague answer, Jacob rolled his eyes. “Come on! There’s gotta be more to that necklace! You replaced your cross one with it today!” Clutched his phone and looking at Janine to back him up.

“Jacob’s right.” Janine and Gregory glanced at each other, then at Jacob, before finally giving Melissa a pointed look.

Pursing her lips at the trio’s pressing attention at her, Melissa huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine! Someone gave it to me. Before— years ago. Just foun’ it recently while cleaning out my room.”

As Janine was about to speak, the half-hour before bell rang, indicating that the teachers had to go to their classrooms to prep before the kids came, making Melissa thank the Gods as she grabbed her bag and ran towards her classroom.

You wear the same jewels that I gave you, as you bury me

“Y/N. Are you sure? Really really sure about this?” asked Charlie as she sat on one of your children’s desks.

Turning your attention on her, you huffed and pushed her off the desk with your broom. “Yes. It’s just an inter-school thing, C. Nothing’s going to happen.” This made Charlie hum and lean against the wall. Seeing another blonde walk by, she pushed herself off and grabbed the blonde— pulling the teacher inside the classroom.

“C! I just mopped there, gosh!” Throwing the broom down, you rolled your eyes and sat on your desk, facing the two blondes in front of you.

“Yeah, c’mon C, she just mopped and you go pullin’ people inside her classroom.” Kristin Marie smirked at Charlie as she sat on a desk, the one Charlie sat on earlier. “Tin!”

Laughing at your exasperation, Kristin Marie stood up and raised her arms. “What?”

“You have to tell her she can’t go to next weeks inter-school competition!” Shaking Kristin Marie’s arms, Charlie raised her eyebrows to remind the other blonde.

“Why?”

“Because!”

“Because wha-? Oh… oh!” Slapping Charlie’s hands away from her, Kristin Marie shook her head and walked towards you. “I say she go. I mean, what’s gonna happen?”

“The worst can happen! Am I the only one that remembers what your sister did to her?”

Walking towards Charlie, you held the hand pointing at you and put it down. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. Hell, I don't even think she remembers me, C.”

Holding both of Charlie’s hands, you looked into her eyes. “I promise, nothing is going to happen to me. Even Kristin Marie promises it. Right, Tin?”

Biting her lower lip, Kristin Marie joined you, caressing Charlie's arm. “Yeah, not while we're with her.”

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

“Okay y'all, Addington’s gonna be here for a week cause the district wanted to make a few bucks of kids beating each other in chess.” said Ava as she walked in the lounge, beelining towards the coffee maker she bought last week.

“What?!”

“How?!”

“C’mon Janine, we talked about this!” Melissa gave Janine a glare, making the other 2nd grade teacher pout.

“I didn't do this! I’m not even in the district anymore!”

Nodding his head, Jacob agreed. “That's right, Janine left them.”

Cupping her face, Barb huffed the stress away from her space and turned to Ava. “A week? Full of games?”

Leaning against the counter, Ava hummed in agreement. “Yeah, so y'all be ready cause those charter kids ain't gonna let the kids here beat them. Especially them teachers over there.”

“I heard there's a new teacher there, the previous art teacher died of heatstroke— the school didn't even tell the kids the truth, told them Mr. Jamal left to get the treasure at the end of the rainbow.” said Gregory as he drank his fruit smoothie, making the other teacher's raise an eyebrow at the information.

“Where the hell did you get that? He left to join the thugs, boy!” Mr. J pointed his index finger at Gregory.

“Enough of the dead talk! How do you know the new teacher there?” asked Barbara as she looked at Gregory to Janine. The 1st grade teacher followed her gaze and shook his head frantically. “Y/N was my classmate in college, actually she was taking her master's at Brown, then we became friends when we found out we were from Philly—”

As if the name struck a nerve in her, Melissa’s stare at Gregory turned into a harsh glare before Barb took her attention from the first-grade teacher.

And I can go anywhere I want

“Well, y'all are early.” Ava greeted the Addington teachers.

The teachers were having a pre-game event, mostly to talk about how they would play it light when the kids were around. The number one rule? No cursing at the other teachers.

“Have to, we know how y'all play.” Kristin Marie rolled her eyes as she locked gaze with her sister, Melissa.

“How we play? Why you idio-”

“We noticed you have a vacant seat? Not complete yet, huh?” Jacob cut Melissa off before she could start a fire between her and her sister. This made Barbara give the boy an appreciative nod.

“Actually-”

The double doors opened with a bang, the suspect? You. Panting due to the long run you made from Addington's parking lot towards Abbott's building. “Here! The seat's for me. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” You tumbled towards your chair and plopped your ass down, hard.

“Ow… Are the chairs here really that hard, Eddie?” You glanced at your friend who gave you a chuckle and a nod.

“Yeah, not as soft as the chairs in Brown. You have to excuse us.”

Shaking your head, you let a chuckle that turned into a full blown laugh. “Oh geez! That's fine, Eddie.” You stood up and embraced Gregory. “I’ve missed you!”

“Miss you too, Y/N.” Gregory gave you a pat on the back. “This is Janine Teagues, my girlfriend.” He held the hand of a shorter woman as both of you pulled back from the embrace.

“This is Janine?! Hi!” You gave the shorter woman a hug and an energetic shake of hands.

Seeing the change of energy, Charlie stood up from her chair and held your arms to stop giving Janine an arm exercise at seven in the morning. “Sorry, she's like a golden retriever with her energy surges.”

“No, I'm not!” And in your defense, Charlie gave you a pointed look that told you to shut up.

Shrugging, Gregory waved his hand and laughed. “Nah, it's fine. These are my colleagues— Jacob,” a lanky brown-haired man waved at you, “Ava, our principal,” a curvy fashionable woman gave you a wink, “Barbara,” you received a ‘hello dear’ from the woman, “and Melissa.”

Before you could look at the redhead beside Barbara, Charlie pushed you towards your chair. “Would you look at that! All of us are here, shouldn't we start by now so we can all go home early— right, Principal Coleman?”

Anywhere I want, just not home

[mirrology]

NESH ❛ ❁. ━━ ( adj.) sensitive to the cold.

❛ ⟡. blue lock, itoshi brothers & male reader. platonic. wc: 814

❛ ⟡ ━━ I was craving platonic bllk content and i already finished all of the fics that are available, so once again i have to do it myself ( T∀T) ,, ivan inspired reader , no mentions of pronouns but was written with male reader in mind ,, he was isekai'd to the bllk world , set when rin and sae didn't hate eachother ,, reader is the youngest itoshi , reader has a hard time with emotions and smiling. he loves his big brothers though :)

❝ Take off my high heels, the snow burns my feet. But there is ease in simple aches. ❞ 𓂅 winter, pearly drops.

✃ - - - - -

The ground was blanketed in a layer of white, called snow. You had seen it once in your time in Anakt Garden. While lying on the artificial grass, you reached up and felt the chilliness of the small particles. There were people around you, but you don't remember what they were to you. Friends? Family? Or just acquaintances?

You don't recall. Although you yearn to do so, the memories are too vague to understand. So new ones replaced the old, now that you were not in that world.

The first time you woke up, it felt unsettling. You had memories that weren't entirely your own and a sensation you couldn't identify. The room around you was white—just like the uniforms of Anakt, just like the corridors of every building they constructed. Then, the person holding you took you to a strangely shaped building filled with color. It was there that you met your brothers, Sae and Rin. They looked at you with curiosity, seemingly captivated by your blank stare.

They are kind to you, providing a warmth you hadn't felt before. So here you are, cuddled up to Rin underneath the sheets of your shared bed. Unfortunately for you, despite the frigidness of the snow being familiar, you weren't immune to the effects it had. In short, you had caught a cold and were now resting in bed, Rin being him, said that he would protect you from the cold. He was curled against you, had his cheek pressed against the top of your head, and his arms wrapped around you protectively, while his fingers gripped the back of your shirt.

You sniffled, "Rin-nii..." you voiced, your words slightly muffled from the way you buried your face in Rin's shirt. The boy cracked an eye open and let out a curious hum. "Sae-nii said you would get sick too if you stayed close to me." you rubbed underneath your nose, wanting to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling of a clogged nose.

Rin pursed his lips "Nii-chan did say that..." He trailed off. Then he pouted "But you're cold! So I'm staying" He huffed, determined to give you warmth, knowing that you were sensitive to the cold. Your chest felt tight but it wasn't unpleasant. You let a wobbly smile slip out at your brothers' determination.

The door to the room opened, and Sae walked in holding a bottle of medicine syrup and a silver spoon. He set the bottle on the nightstand next to the bed, "(Name), it's time for your medicine" Sae reached over and wiped away a bead of sweat that formed on your forehead. You whined at the mention of medicine but accepted your fate, you tapped Rin on his arm to let you go.

Rin unwrapped his arms from around you reluctantly and let you sit up. Sae poured the medicine into a spoon and brought it up to your lips, you stared unblinkingly at it. You pressed your lips together, already dreading the horrible aftertaste of the medicine. The red-haired boy gave you a stare, moving the spoon closer to your lips. "C'mon (Name)." You pressed your lips tighter, narrowing your eyes at him.

"(Name), if you take it you can go back to playing in the snow!" Rin chirped, a bright smile on his face. You hesitantly opened your mouth and took in the syrup. Sae playfully sighed, "So you listen to Rin but not me?" He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk on his face. All you responded with was a "Bleh" and you stuck out your tongue.

Sae huffed and pinched your cheek lightly "Brat" You flopped back into the bed and let out a yawn, a small tear forming at the corner of your eye. "Yay! Cuddles!" Rin dropped on top of you, making you breathe out an "oof"

"Oops!" Rin rolled off you once he realized you couldn't exactly breathe. He instead wrapped his arms around you in a hug. You looked over to Sae as he was putting the cap on the bottle of medicine. "Sae-nii," You called out to him, "Hm?" He turned his head to look at you and was met with you making puppy eyes at him. Oh no, he already knew what you were planning, "No." Sae deadpanned, his mouth forming a straight line.

"Please?" You stared more intensely, Rin picked up on what you were doing and joined you in doing the puppy eyes "Please Nii-chan?" The boy pled. Sae sweatdropped before finally giving in with a sigh. "Scoot over then" The both of you quickly made space for your eldest brother, he slipped under the covers with the both of you and put an arm over you. Leaving you squished between the most special people in your life.

The snow may have made you sick and brought back confusing memories, but your brothers made everything better.

[suguslve]

‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧— DO I LOOK LIKE HER?

synopsis: in which you, the new human transfer in Devildom realize bit by bit that you are only seen as a replacement for Lilith.

♰ pairings. obey me brothers x fem! Reader

♰ genre. angst

♰ word count. 600

♰ a/n. first ever fic i’ll be uploading on here T^T lmk your thoughts (and dw part 2 is already in the making :P) also! this was inspired by niki’s song ‘did you like her in the morning’ & tyler the creator’s ‘like him’. enjoy reading!

you were nothing but a mere replacement–a placeholder,

someone to fill the gap in their hearts from her departure.

someone to keep them company until she returns.

you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, truthfully. you didn’t know that you were only cherished, protected by them because you reminded them of her. but apparently, you've got it all down–from her features down to her little quirks, hell you two could be mistaken as twins.

it's funny, you think, how the gods above are playing this sick cruel joke on you, they must be laughing at your misery right now.

you’d first heard it from simeon.

“Lilith?” Simeon whispered lowly when Solomon first introduced you to each other. You looked at him, confused, and baffled.

“I’m sorry? you must be mistaken” you quickly answer, “I’m y/n.” you corrected him. He then shook his head lightly and posed an apologetic smile on his angelic features.

“Right. Yes, apologies. It’s lovely to meet you y/n”.

then next, from the brothers.

Lord Diavolo had made arrangements for you to stay at the House of Lamentation, demanding that the brothers take care of you, their new human student.

“We’re here.” said Solomon, as he helped you make your way to the door. “Now, I’m afraid I have to head back to Lord Diavolo’s castle, he probably has more demands from me.” he lightly joked which made you elicit a small laugh. “You’ll be able to manage on your own from here?” he softly asks to which you nod. “Yes Solomon, I’ll be fine, now go. Wouldn’t want you to be late now.” you shoo him off, both of you laughing lightly.

Then, you knocked.

The door opened almost immediately as you see a demon, who you remembered as Lucifer, waiting.

“Come in” his deep voice broke the silence. “Everyone is in the living room, I’ll introduce you to them.” he curtly states as he walks away from you, to which you follow him in. As you step foot into the living room you felt a pair of four eyes on you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She’s going to stay under our care during her time here in the Devildom. Now I expect each and every one of you to treat her with the utmost care, if anything happens to her I’ll be the one to deal with you. Is that understood?” As he finishes his sentence, he is met with nothing but silence as they all stare at you. They all felt a rush and mixture of emotions upon seeing you; you looked so much like….her.

“Lilith…” you hear them all whisper. You look at them confusingly

Just who the hell is Lilith? Before more thoughts enter your brain, Lucifer clears his throat and continues speaking.

“Right then, I’ll be introducing you to everyone. That one with the white hair is Mammon, also known as the Avatar of Greed. Followed by Leviathan, also known as the Avatar of Envy, and that’s Asmodeus also known as the Avatar of Lust, and lastly Beelzebub known as the Avatar of Gluttony.” you were about to ask where the others are when he cuts you off. “Satan and Belphegor are in their rooms, you’ll get to meet them sooner or later.”

You then politely smiled at all of them. “Hello everyone, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you all.”

A few months had passed after that.

And in those few months, you grew closer to everyone, especially the brothers, connecting and clicking with them almost immediately. However, the name “Lilith” never left the back of your head. How could it when everytime you’re out and about with any of the brothers, you’d hear that name being whispered by the other demons you passed by. You try to not pay them any mind but you simply couldn’t.

And then things started to change.

all rights reserved to © suguslve.

[thekinkymadscientist]

What are your thoughts about good boys getting turned into happy, horny, giggly toys?

I'm in favour, obviously. But let's look at those changes a little more closely.

We start with a good boy. Now, I suppose you can be a good boy on your own, but it's much easier and more fun to be a good boy for somebody. A good boy is subby and obedient, and a good boy lets themselves be made even subbier. And you want to be a good boy for me, don't you?

Of course you do. And the first change you said was being happy. Good boys obey, yes, but good boys are also happy to obey. It's not enough for you to be owned, you must love being owned. And that is easy enough, all told. Falling into a mindless trance will make you very happy. And soon enough, you'll realize that you love to be hypnotized and brainwashed. You'll find happiness in so many places: obeying will make you happy, my using your body will make you very happy, and my praise will make you happiest of all.

Being horny is also a good change. It makes you so much easier to control, and so much more fun to own. I'll make sure that you're always a little horny, and I'll be able to direct that horniness wherever I want. A brush of my hand on your cheek could get the cutest little moans, a caress on the chest could fill you with fuzzy pleasure, a few seductive words could replace all your silly independent thoughts with desperate, submissive arousal. The hornier you are, the easier you are to control, and my control will make you so deliciously horny.

Now, giggles can be an excellent safety valve. It's very simple. There are some thoughts that I don't want you to have. I'll condition you so that whenever they enter your mind, you can just giggle them away Resistance? A few involuntary giggles, and you forget why you were fighting. Scared to be brainwashed? You'll laugh nervously, and then the nervousness disappears. This giggly conditioning seems to be stripping away your identity and independent thought? Giggle, giggle, and you can't remember what you were worried about. Probably something about how you love being owned.

All this together and it's impossible for you to be anything but a toy. A toy which can be used, played with, and changed however I want. So what do you say? Do you want to be a good boy for me, knowing all the wonderful things which will happen to you?

[steddie-island]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💛

Thank you! 😘😘😘

It was a big writing year for me and there are a lot of fics that I'm really proud of. 🥰

Mutually Beneficial - Smutty filth with a mean dom Eddie. 😌

Wallpaper - Platonic Stobin, with Steve coming out as transfem to Robin (TBH I love all 3 of the fics that I did in this little 'verse.)

Sweet as Cherry Wine - Featuring transmasc Steve Harrington and vampire Eddie Munson. Again, I love all 3 that I've done for this 'verse and am excited to do more with them.

Love is a Battle(vest) - Steve replaces Eddie's battle vest and they get together about it.

Squeezed In - Steddissy filth with some sweet schmoopy feelings that sneak back in at the end. Eventually there's going to be a part 2 to this, too. I just have to finish it.

I'm also going to follow your lead and rec some of my fave fics of the year! All of these are Steddie unless noted otherwise.

Like Lovers Do by @v3llichor - Just SO FUCKING SOFT. You can't go wrong with any of their fics (I know I'm biased here but Dra-mate-ic was a gift fic for me that is just full of Steve and Eddie both being ridiculous and dramatic and Robin and Chrissy being fed up with them. It's so cute, go read it!) Also No Fairy Tale Ever Started This Way, it's so funny and so hot and just really gives us dork 4 dork Steddie.

I had been hungry, all the Years by @jamiethegardener55 The Steddissy fics of all Steddissy fics. Also go read her unsafe, medium sane, very consensual series because it is 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Mine by @runninriot (another author where you literally cannot go wrong with any of the fics you pick.)

Proximity by @stervrucht Some of the best fucking pining you will read I s2g!

To the moon and to saturn by @pennyplainknits A fic featuring Steve helping Robin when she's asking him to explain going down on someone. This fic is so sweet, I've read it at least twice and it makes me get all teary every time I do.

Sub Eddie Week by @steddieas-shegoes All 7 parts are just exquisite. 😌

Demisexual/Virgin Eddie by @pearynice Another series where every one of them is just so fucking good. Just do yourself a favor and read all of them because 😍!!

I don't know you figure it out by @wynnyfryd The first Steddie series I got into, I read this on Tumblr and then immediately went and read it on ao3 once I was caught up. Mind the tags, this one has some angst to it, but it's so fucking well done and makes me want to bite shit in the best way!

I know I've left a lot of really talented authors off of this list, I would be here all year if I tried to remember every amazing fic that I managed to read in 2024. We're a fandom that is really lucky to have so many amazing authors and artists.

Here's to Steve and Eddie keeping our brains rotting in 2025!

[iri-desky]

SO! Let's talk about the play adaption of Dead Plate, Made With Love!

Has anyone else watched the unofficial play adaption of Dead Plate yet or am I gonna have to educate y'all. /lh

Anyway, so you Dead Plate fans probably already know that a while back, Rach got an ask asking her if it was okay to adapt Dead Plate into a play for their school! Additionally, you probably already know that Rach said yes. Well, as of May 2024, the play has been acted out courtesy of the Society of Performing Arts (SPART), and also filmed--and is now totally free to watch on YouTube. It's called Made With Love! ((Note: please let me know if the link doesn't work, I'll replace it if needed))

The actors did awesome work on depicting the characters, the backstage crew really made it come to life, and overall it's such an interesting interpretation of the original story! It's only about an hour long, so it's definitely worth giving a watch. Not to mention, the audience sometimes gives the funniest commentary.

I really wish I saw more people talking about this performance, so hopefully this dumb little post will get this play's name out there. :]

Quick note, though: If you do make fanart/fan content of this, please remember that the actors for this version of Rody and Vincent are not comfortable with being shipped together, as the actor for Vincent here is an adult, and the actor for Rody is a minor. 👍🏽 Thanks, y'all!

[alexa-fika]

Sponge Cake (Thatch x child!lunarian!reader)

A/N okay I ‘m not sure how I feel about doing three for one, im both sure I paid attention to both ideas enough so please let me know what you think! Please note that since this is a lunarian they are brown skinned. I tried not to mention the hair since there is so much variety there but I did mention the skin. Also I decided gn since the requests were both female and male.

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers!

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

“What’s the occasion, Dokucha?” Ace questioned as he watched the tween pull out a pan from the oven, wings flapping in what he guessed was excitement

“I just wanted to make something for you guys!” They exclaimed as they took hold of the pan, flying their way over to the table that their brothers sat at

“Watcha make pumkin’?” Thatch asked as he took a peek at the pan. 

“I made cake!” They called as they attempted to cut said pastry 

“Ah, darlin’, please lemme me cut it,” Thatch called as he gingerly took the knife in his hand.

“I -I can do it, Thatch-nii! I’m nine!” They fussed, trying to get the knife back

“I know, but I don’ wanna risk you gettin’ hurt,” they called, waving them off as cut the cake with ease, pulling one of the pieces into a nearby plate.

“I’m a Lunarian Thatch-nii,” they scoffed, finding it outrageous that a mere knife could even nick their bronze skin, much less go through it.

“Here, ya can have tha first pie…ce?” 

“What’s wrong-yoi?” Marco asked as he noticed Thatch’s frozen position

“Thatch-nii! I couldn’t reach the sprinkles. Can you help me get them?” They begged, pulling at his white uniform

He glanced at them, a knowing smile on his face as he straightened himself and nodded.

“Of couse,” he drawled, placing the utensil down and following after the child. The flame behind them moving brazenly, giving away the kid’s nervousness.

“You have to keep quiet about it, Thatch-nii,” they hissed when they determined they were out of earshot.

“Sponge Cake? Really?” He teased 

“Shut up! None of them noticed! You’re the head of the cooking Division, so obviously, you would have noticed the difference. I didn’t know you were joining them,” they frowned, stomping their feet. Their wings mirror their mood as they angrily flapped behind them.

“So whatcha ya put in it?” He questions, Browsing through the upper cabinets for their excuse.

“H-How did you know?” They gaped

“Cause you, pumkin’, are an absolute menace to everyone on this ship, ain’t no way you would have stopped with the sponge,” he mused, pulling out the container of sprinkles and handing it to a Shellshocked dokucha

“Wasabi… I put wasabi over the sponge to make it look like mochi,” they mumbled.

“Ya not gonna prank me for the rest of the year.”

“Why would I agree to that?” 

“Because if ya don’, imma go tell ’em, and then YOU are goin’ to be grounded for the rest of the year for nothin’.”

“Ung”

“Checkmate pumkin’ remember you learned to be a menace from even bigger menaces,” he stated smugly.

“Fine!” They pouted 

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya, darlin’,” he grinned, his attention being drawn by the loud sound of gagging, gasping, and spitting.

“Ya better go before the wasabi hits,” he laughed, watching as the Lunarian opened their wings and hightailed out of the Kitchen and to the Deck, letting out a squeal as they avoided a sudden Flash of blue

“Hi Marco-nii! You look a little red!” They cackled, taking in the very red and pained face the first mate wore on his face

“Come here.” He called launching themselves at them with a flap of his own wings letting a groan as they simply ducked under him

“Bye Marco-nii!” They laughed as they closed their wings, allowing gravity to take them closer to the only man who would save them right now

“Hi Papaw! Love you, Papaw!” They hurriedly called as they ducked behind the man, popping out of them to let one final goodbye to the commander as they pulled at their eye and stuck his tongue out at him.

What do you think? I’m kinda effy about this one, idk feel like I should have included the rest of the characters more and much more lunarian ish ? ahhh im overthinking!

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Can't get killer village in the omega timeline out of my head. Just. Color can't stop saving each and every killer nightmare recruits. It's such a ridiculous idea and I love it.

Do you think the Killer's get jealous of eachother? Do they have a whole schema build up of who gets color time when? Or do they not mind sharing their 'friend'? Color and his evil polycule made up out of just. So many killer sanses.

Everyone else must be going insane from the amount of killer sanses color keeps bringing home....

Like color. You have a problem. This isn't sustainable anymore....you're ruining the local ecosystem....

Reading this made me realize that Colors gonna have to make a hard choice eventually if he saves a Killer and Nightmare finds a replacement: does he focus purely on the one he’s saved, therefore leaving one behind to suffer (and the impact this will have on the Killer he’s saved and his view of and relationship with Color), or does he try to save every Killer he can— potentially running himself ragged, getting himself killed, neglecting and further retraumatizing the Killer he saved and pushing the other Killer away?

Something something about Killer being a renewable resource and with every lost of a Killer and failure to save them, Color actively struggles to not start viewing Killer the way Nightmare does in order to cope with the repeated losses, trauma, confusion, conflict, failures, and one on one times spent with Nightmare and “chats” and mind games.

Killer isn’t a chess piece in a game, or a tool to be discarded and replaced, or a weapon to wield or a possession to own: and Color actively seeks to remember every Killer’s existence and autonomy and history and life and story and humanity.

[mxnhoo]

about you. (n. rk) | chapter 1

chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | epilogue | masterlist synopsis working in a cafe after being discharged wasn't that easy, but you managed to adapt and eventually became one of the best employees. however, as you talk to one of your colleagues, you obtain knowledge of your past and a mystery person you just couldn't remember. just.. who.. was this person? featuring woonhak (boynextdoor) genre mystery, the past warnings breakdowns, mild language, mentions of hospitals, trust issues, mentions of death word count 2.5k

1 | a glimpse

The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled up the bustling cafe, that had many different people. They had their different reasons for being here, whether if it was to catch up with friends like the girls sitting by the window, or to complete their work like the man sitting in the opposite corner, or if it was to work and serve coffee to others, like you.

You wiped your sweat, proud of all the work you've done even when you just punched in about an hour ago. You've only recently joined this cafe a while ago and yet you were already known as one of the best employees, another reason being was that you had just gotten discharged from the hospital not long ago, hence proving how capable you were.

You felt your shoulder get pushed forward, and your neck immediately tilted to the side, seeing your colleague, Woonhak, struggle as he carries a box. "Sorry!"

Without wasting a second, you immediately turned around and assisted in carrying the box, reducing the weight that Woonhak has to take by himself. Confusion flickered in his face but is immediately replaced with gratitude as he flashes you his smile. "Thanks, Y/N".

"Anytime, Hak".

You stepped backwards cautiously as you turned to make sure you don't bump or knock anything over. You licked your lips as you focused on walking properly, and you heard Woonhak. "This will be enough, thank you!".

You quickly looked back and together, the both of you squatted and lowered the box to the ground. You dusted off your hands and the little boy exhaled, a proud expression on his face.

"Did you think you could carry that alone?" you teased, patting his head. He furrowed his brows and pouted, almost looking like a chihuahua as he retorted. "Hey, I'm not a kid! I.."

He cleared his throat before continuing, "could've done that by myself". He looked slightly awkward as he pursed his lips for a moment. "I'm a man, 'kay! I can do things myself".

You looked at his gleeful expression and your heart melted — he was adorable. You patted his head and slightly giggled, "Sure, whatever you say, Hak".

He whined and was about to continue defending himself and proving that he was a man, but the voice of your manager quickly cut your conversation short, causing both of your heads to snap at his direction. "Y/N, Woonagi, break time! Chop chop, we need you back before peak hours yeah!".

You blew out air, relieved that it was finally time to rest after working so hard since your shfit started. Woonhak whined even more, causing you to burst out laughing. "Don't baby me and don't call me Woonagi!".

"Thanks for the meal!"

You broke off your chopsticks as you leaned back on your chair, seeing Woonhak's ecstatic expression as he looked at the food you were treating him. You two were eating ramen from the restaurant down the street, and the aroma of the freshly cooked noodles completely invaded your nose.

It was the smell of good soup, fresh meat and noodles and you couldn't wait to devour your food. He quickly took his wooden chopsticks and without wasting a second, he broke the chopsticks to half and started to devour the food.

You two slurped down on your food, filling up your empty stomachs as the food satisfied your taste buds — you almost wished that you got infinite ramen since it tasted so scrumptious. Not even 10 minutes later, the teenager boy sitting opposite of you can be seen holding up the bowl to his mouth and drinking the leftover soup, placing his bowl down and licking his mouth.

He beamed gleefully, "Thanks for the meal, Y/N!". You still had half of your bowl left, so you nodded. "If you wanna order sides, you can".

Upon hearing your approval to order more dishes using your money, he exclaimed and quickly raised his hand while calling out for the waiter.

"Say, Y/N, how are you so good at your job?"

You raised your eyebrow at the sudden question. You'd just finished wiping your mouth after finishing your bowl, "What're you talking about?".

"Like, you've only been here for like, how long? A month? And you're literally like the best?"

You quickly shook your hands and head, wanting to completely deny his compliment though you definitely felt flattered. "What are you saying? I just do my job—"

"What I mean is like.. you've been through so much. Being discharged from 2 hospitals isn't that easy, y'know?"

You were caught off-guard by the reminder that you indeed have been through a lot. And what pains you even more is that you don't remember a single thing of your life before it. You've been to a general hospital to recover from an incident you irritatingly can't recall, then shifted to a mental hospital.

You always asked so many questions, but none were answered no matter how much you tried. All the people that claimed to be your friends — heck, it was miserable that you couldn't confirm if they really were because you have no memory prior.

Family? For all you know, you had none. Your dad had passed away, and you were pretty sure your mom was still alive, but she has yet to make an appearance in your life. You weren't exactly sure if you had siblings, but even if you wanted to ask there'd be no one to answer you.

You eventually grew accustomed to it, really, though it was miserable.

"Nothing happened, really," you brushed off his concern. "As long as you stay strong and push through, you can get through anything".

Woonhak's face which had a pensive expression quickly lit up after hearing your powerful words. "I knew you were always a strong person," he commented.

You immediately felt confusion struck you. Tilting your head, you questioned. "What are you talking about?". You furrowed your eyebrows, anticipating to his answer.

"I've seen you come into the cafe long before, and you've always given out the strong image!" he replied and your eyes widened. You finally had someone who had an idea of who you were before you completely lost your memory.

"What are you talking about..?"

"Y'know! I've been working here for a while, and I've served you a couple of times," he confessed, and you almost thought he was speaking gibberish from how unreal it sounded.

You clasped your hands together and leaned forward, wanting to know more. "What else did I do?".

The boy hummed, leaning backwards to the cushion and placing his finger on his mouth as he tried to recall. "You came often with someone".

"Someone?!"

"A boy. A tall guy. If I remember correctly, he has black wavy hair?".

"Do you remember his name?!" you slammed your hands on the table and leaned forward, accidentally startling him. You realised that you'd overreacted and you slowly leaned backwards, "Sorry..".

"I-it's okay. Urhm, I don't think I know his name because he'd always use his initials for his name".

"What are his initials?"

"N, R, K" he said, his speech choppy as he articulated each letter.

N R K..

You wondered what name it could've been. Who they were in your life and where were they now?

"N.. N.. N.." you mumbled to yourself, staring into blank space as you tried to think about names that started with 'N'. Was N a first name? A surname?

"Noah? Nathan?" you continued talking to yourself, but you made no progress, you only felt you jaw clench and chest tighten.

"Nolan.. Noe—"

"Y/N!"

The sharp voice made you snap out of it and you immediately looked around to see who called for you. You didn't realise you were slightly shaking and that your breathing pattern was irregular, and when you saw your manager's face, you started to calm down. You expected him to be livid because you weren't doing your job, but there was a stark contrast on his face.

He seemed concerned for you instead, placing a hand that was firm yet comforting on your shoulder. "Are you okay? Do you need to go home first?".

You stared at his worried eyes for a second, fully realising what the situation was. Slowly, you gave him a soft smile while shaking your head slightly. "I'm okay".

His hand slowly slipped away from your shoulder, his hand turning into a pointed finger towards you. "If you faint here, I'm not gonna drag you outta here, got it? Leave if you have to".

You sighed and nodded as he nagged you. You knew he was joking and you secretly felt warmth in your heart as you knew he did care about you. "Got that," you smiled.

"Name for your drink?" you asked, holding a cup holder and a marker, ready to jot down their name.

"Ricky".

At the sound of that name, your breath hitched and your chest ached, causing your face to crinkle. You accidentally dropped the marker, startling both you and the customer. "I-I- so sorry, give me a second..".

You squatted down to pick the marker up, feeling as cold beads of sweat formed on your temples. You looked back up and it was a tall man that had wavy hair, just as Woonhak had described.

You just couldn't help but blurt out in desperation, "Are your initials 'N' 'R' 'K' by any chance?!". You observe his stunned expression, watching his lips as you anticipate to his answers.

You bit your lip, feeling the anxiety flood in. The man spoke, "Uhm, no?". You sighed as you felt the disappointment sink in. You averted your gaze back to the cup holder, writing the customer's name down.

Riki.

The man noticed your writing and pointed a finger, "Ah, it's 'R' 'I' 'C' 'K' 'Y', not like that".

"Ah.." you muttered, realising your mistake. You immediately crossed out the name with wrong spelling and corrected yourself. You apologised, "Sorry about that".

You looked at the man who had a closed-lip smile, looking around the room as he waited for you. You immediately gestued him, "You can sit down and wait and we'll call out your name".

He nodded and turned his back, settling down at a table that was just right in front.

That was weird, why'd you spell his name wrong when it was so simple? You huffed as you softly slapped yourself, mentally telling yourself to 'get it together'. You walked over to the prep station to get his order ready.

For the rest of your shift, you've been flinching to customers whenever they said names that started with 'N', in hopes that the person would magically appear right before your eyes, but to no avail. You've asked every single customer about their initials, and they've only given you weirded and puzzled faces.

You felt determined to hunt down this msytery person, because this person could be the key to finding out what the hell happened in your life before you lost all your memory.

It was 2 hours to closing, and the sun had already started to set. The warm orange light of the cafe helped to keep the cafe bright. Woonhak was beside you in silence, brewing his own drink as you started to stare into blank space once again, feeling helpless about the whole situation.

The cafe had softer chatters compared to earlier, since there were lesser customers. You were about to brush away the whole 'finding-someone-from-their-initials' plan until you looked outside your cafe windows and saw it.

A glimpse.

A glimpse of someone who had black wavy hair walking past your cafe was all it took.

It was all it took for you to stop caring about everthing. For you to leave the counter, step outside the shop as Woonhak and your other colleagues calls back for you in utter confusion. Their voices slowly fade as the entrance bell rings and the door closes.

You breathed out, feeling the chilly air blow against you as you hastily tried to locate where this person was. You felt the need to find follow this person and your body was moving as if it had a mind of its' own.

You didn't know what his initials were — what his name even was. Fuck, you didn't even know who the hell he was, but you knew it.

You knew it was him.

The streets were still bustling with people even if the sun has set, increasing the difficulty of finding whoever the man is, but as you followed your gut feeling and continued walking forward, you spotted his hair poke out from the crowd.

Without hesitation, you immediately start walking. Jogging, running even. You mindlessly bumped into people, not even apologising as your eye remained glued to this man. You ran without ever looking back.

"Please, please!" you called out, hoping the man would stop but the people near you simply stopped to give you a weird look.

You cried in desperation and you weren't exactly sure why. Your heart ached in a way you never knew it could. "Stop!"

You stopped in the middle of the pavement, feeling completely helpless as you suddenly felt the tears forming in your eyes. Why were you sad? Fuck, why were you even crying?

You were so confused, you wanted so many answers, but you don't even know what questions to ask. The people around you seemed concerned, a few stopping and it was visible that they were having a debate in their heads whether they should approached you, but all of them eventually just went on with their way.

Your chest continued to ache and you bit your lip, holding back your whimpers as you grab your chest in an attempt to soothe the pain. Your grip was so tight on your shirt that your hand starts to shake and your vision gets blurry from all the tears, and as your vision was about to turn completely black, you felt it.

A hand touched your shoulder, and it was almost as if the touch was magical, because you felt your body physically wake up. With your tears still rolling down, you slowly turned around to see who'd touch your shoulder, and it was him.

The same black wavy hair you saw walking past your shop. You stared for a second to process what the fuck was happening, and he took this time to wipe your tears away. His hands— they were so cold you almost shivered but yet they provided you with a warmth in your chest you've never felt before.

His voice was deep, and you felt like it provided so much comfort. "Don't cry anymore".

Your breath hitched as you tried to catch your breath after almost breaking down and your hand's grip on your shirt slowly loosened. You wanted to hold him too, share your pain with him, but as you blinked, he was gone.

Gone. Disappeared as if he was never even there in the first place.

You had no clue what was going on.

Your head became light and started spinning, and before you knew it, your head hit the ground. Despite your vision being blurred, you could see people immediately stop and try to help you. You almost couldn't tell if that was Woonhak in front of you shouting desperately, but everything sounded so muffled and you couldn't even hear properly.

Your eyelids grew heavy and eventually, your vision turns black.

cly's note HAPPY NEW YEAR! hope everyone's 2025 started off right, and im gifting everyone the first chapter of about you. kinda different from the type of stories i write, but regardless i hope this was okay and ya'll enjoyed it! a start for my series, hope ya'll can stick to the end <3 also my biggest inspiration for this is (still) @/maatryoshkaa cos of their young god series (maybe yall can read it after yall finish this chapter LOL). take care everyone and always stay healthy!

taglist @rikifever @lonelylandofan @kangseulgithegreat @babygirlskz98