#either way. wonderfully buzzed

[the-stove-is-on-fire]

Sometimes on a Halloween night you have good pizza and get drunk watching Rocky Horror Picture Show. And sometimes on a Halloween night you have a moment of gender euphoria after stumbling into the bathroom having forgotten your fake mustache. And sometimes on a Halloween night you drunkenly slur at your mustachioed reflection "holy fuuuuck man, look at you from the future."

[bunny584]

Hard Night, Good Morning

A/N: .....i…no one look at me. Just read. Hurt/Comfort/hurt? Idk. This shit had me scream crying either way. Post Sukuna Kaisen, but the good guys won.

Art credit: Narutoss_ramen on X

Satoru remembers. His Six Eyes may have dulled to just two. And the battle scars may have faded. But the memories — the film roll featuring a life lived and still living…are all there.

Satoru remembers, but Suguru has forgotten.

His name. His home. The life he’s lived. The life he lost. The friendships, the family, the triumphs, the sins. It’s all gone because Suguru Geto died on December 24th.

At least, his soul did.

And yet, Satoru is about to buy coffee from the shell of a man he once loved. Here. Today. With a smile more beautiful than the first day of summer solstice.

Tabula Rasa. Blank Slate. A stranger he knows better than the back of his hand.

How will The Strongest…no, how will Satoru Gojo choose to know Suguru Geto in this iteration of his life?

Friends? Lovers?

Or just a patron of the handsome barista at a countryside coffee shop with the best lavender latte around.

Ignorance has a way of making things beautiful. 

Exquisite, really. 

Satoru’s eyes flutter closed. His angular nose nestles into an arc of plumb blossoms. Dancing in the wind. Hanging freely — generously — for everyone on its walking path to enjoy. 

Has the world always been this gorgeous?

And so…quiet. 

It was the first thing Satoru noticed once his Six Eyes were laid to rest. The moment Limitless buzzed inward for the very last time, all he could see was silence. 

Saffron became orange. 

Emerald became green. 

Ursa Major became a handful of stars. 

The Sun stayed the Sun. The Moon seemed so cold. And the world became so dull. 

Wonderfully and peacefully dull. 

Satoru was no longer tortured by hyperawareness. A double edged sword, but a sword no less. The minuscule details of a person’s skin or each drop of rainfall during a thunderstorm no longer gnawed at his sanity. 

The smoke eventually settled. 

The Survivors, they aptly nicknamed themselves, peeled off the armor. When the chaos dissipated and the Demon was banished to the Hell he belonged, The Survivors dispersed. 

Unable to hold each other’s gaze. For fear of recognizing the monsters they had to become to earn the throne from the King of Curses. 

So, Satoru found himself buying a one-way ticket to the tail end of the country.

Where the greens and oranges and yellows exist that much more peacefully. And the Sun is the Sun. But the handful of stars are solar bright and the Moon is the warmest it’s ever been for him.

And he is so damn lucky.

To have the privilege of living without the weight of being The Strongest. 

To stop and smell spring on his way to partake in the latest breaking news. 

A new coffee shop. 

Bone dry cappuccinos. Colombian espresso. Raspberry macaroons without the threat of curses and fear and death and loss knocking around his skull. 

“Good morning! Welcome in.”

What?

The chimes above the door may as well be blow horns. Tearing at the eardrums Satoru is sure are already ruined. The meaningless, polite greeting suddenly holds the gravity of an entire galaxy behind it. 

But not because the words are unique. 

The voice. 

Satoru could be dumb, deaf and blind. He would recognize that voice under any circumstance. 

As a baby? He’d know that voice signifies safety. 

As a teen? That voice meant becoming a man worth respecting. With morals that would save millions. 

That night? That voice meant love. In the cruelest sense of the word. 

Then? That voice only spewed lies. 

And now? That voice means…it means..

“Don’t be shy, I don’t bite.” Brilliant amethyst eyes melt the ice shackles around Satoru’s feet. 

Royal purple. Somewhere between indigo and violet. A warm, heavy cloak when they are looking at you reverently. When they’re trusting. Bright. Honest. 

But when they see you as the enemy? The other? Trying to thwart a world they’ve envisioned and worked hard for, those amethyst eyes are more lethal than scorpion venom. 

“S-su…Suguru…?” His feet move forward all at once. Nearly impaling himself on the counter. Satoru’s peripheral vision isn’t as sharp, but there is a line. And yet, none of that matters.

None of it fucking matters.

The barista’s thick, inky locks are pulled up like it used to be when they were seventeen. His shoulders are as broad and muscular as they were the last night they spoke. His voice.

 His voice 

And his eyes. And lips. And smile. The stupid, boyish dimple cratered in his left cheek. With eyelashes long enough to support a fleet of planes taking off the runway. 

It’s Suguru. 

Suguru Geto. 

Not an imposter. Not something so dark and blasphemous, Satoru nearly flattened the Earth to exorcise.

Just Suguru.

And he knows it to be true. Not by his eyes, because they can lie to him now. But his soul and heart would tell him otherwise. 

“Suguru..” Satoru tastes a name so foreign to his lips, he nearly chokes on it.

The beautiful boy lets out a gentle chuckle. Flickering down to his name tag before returning eye contact. 

“So I’m told.” He shrugs. His long span reaches over to place a porcelain espresso cup beneath the machine nozzle.

“You look like you need something strong. Hard night?”

“Y—yeah.” Say something real, idiot.

 “Ahh,” Suguru rolls his plump bottom lip under his teeth. Eyebrows crawling together in genuine concern. And Satoru wishes he could swallow his heart currently beating in his throat.

“Let’s start with an espresso, then. What’s your name?” 

The question alone nearly brings Satoru to his knees.

How could he not know?

It’s me, Suguru. 

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. 

Their names only being a few letters away is a testament to the relationship they shared. They’ve only ever existed as one. As sure as the Sun rising in the east and setting in the west. In lockstep like a custom made door key. 

Suguru’s name is…was an integral part of his identity. Not just his vocabulary. 

“Uh, Satoru.” Sweaty palms fiddle for his wallet. Anything to dull the searing pain in his chest. 

“Satoru…?” 

“Yes?” Arctic eyes snap up to meet violet ones. As if the barista spontaneously remembered, Satoru’s flushed lips hang open with naive hope. 

But Suguru just quietly rolls the syllables of his name around one more time. Rich on the tongue, he decides. “That’s a nice name.” 

“Thanks.” Disappointment weighs heavy on his shoulders.

“The espresso is on the house. What else can I make for you, Satoru?”

And his name sounds sweeter than the pastry he stumbled in here for. He would pay anything. To tuck that velvet voice in a jar and replay it on rainy days, Satoru would give anything. 

“A lavender latte.” He flickers to the glass display. “And two of the Kikufuku, please.”

“Done. Have a seat.” Suguru nods at the corner table.

“Take a load off. I’ll bring your stuff over.” His lips lax into an intoxicating smile and Satoru’s world spins. 

No more than two seconds after his butt hits the seat, Satoru wedges his cell between his ear and shoulder. Each unanswered ring chips away at his patience. 

“Hey normie.” 

“Shoko,” Satoru sighs into the speaker. Too relieved to insult her back.

“Long time no speak,” she chides. He can almost hear the pull of her cigarette sizzling against her lips. 

“I know.” She’s right, but none of them are speaking right now. They all need a little time. 

“Sorry about that. Listen, I’ve got a question.” Satoru chews his bottom lip raw. Suguru’s back is facing him, perfecting his order.

“Don’t sound so tortured about it, shoot.” Shoko swings the door wide open and Satoru barrels through. 

“When people come back from the dead, what’s the likelihood of losing all memories?” 

“What?” Her tone makes his question sound so egregious he almost rethinks asking it. 

Almost. 

He doesn’t though. Because the raven-haired barista has flashed his Colgate smile and will be heading over in t-2 minutes. And Satoru…he needs something to hold onto. A life vest to keep him from drowning.

“C’mon Sho, how do memories work when you bring people back from the dead?” Each word is more hushed than the last. A thinly veiled attempt at hiding his insanity. 

“…when did you find him?” 

The second time today oxygen is taken directly from Satoru’s lungs. How did she know?

“What the hell are you—“

“How is he..?”

“Shoko, I don’t know what you’re talking—“

“He was my friend TOO, Satoru.” His best friend cuts down his silver-tongued lies for the last time. 

She’s right.

It’s inhumane to brush it aside. Satoru cannot fathom the pain she had to work through when she lost Suguru. Then Satoru. And Suguru again. It’s unfair for him to be selfish with this. 

“This morning.” He concedes.  

The doctor mulls his answer over. Short, choppy breaths that sound more relieved than not feather through the speaker.

“Let’s talk tomorrow, my patient is here.” She ends the call before he can protest. The life vest won’t come today. Not from Shoko at least.

As always, Suguru enters with perfect timing. Balancing an espresso, latte and dessert on one forearm. He always did move with the grace of a danseur noble. 

“Your treats.” In one fluid motion, a pair of steaming drinks and sweets are lined in front of him in the order they should be consumed. 

He is still so thoughtful.

The leash around Satoru’s control snaps in half. His hand darts to Suguru’s forearm just as he turns to leave. His person tilts his head to the side. Quizzical. But kind. And patient. Satoru hasn’t said a word but he knows Suguru would listen to each syllable. 

“Do you not…have them?” Satoru can hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth. 

“Have what?” Suguru probes, stepping into his grasp. 

“The hard nights,” the Strongest retorts. Darting his eyes out of the window as if the two of them are in a realm they don’t belong in. 

And maybe they are. 

Satoru bites back a fond chuckle when Suguru makes his face. An exaggerated frown with narrowed eyes. He resembles a jaguar most in those moments, and Satoru never let him live it down. 

“No,” Suguru starts, shaking his head almost regretfully. “I don’t remember enough to have a sleepless night.”

He could remember for the both of them. 

Satoru would spend every minute of every hour of every day for the rest of his life infusing memories into his best friend. Whatever he wanted to know. He’ll speak from sunrise to sunset until he passed on and call it a life well lived. 

“What do you…what do you mean?” Satoru pipes up, pulling the barista back when he attempts to leave again. 

Suguru’s confusion melts into the warmth Satoru never found a replacement for. No one ever looked at him so tenderly. Grace and patience tailor made just for him. 

“It’s a long, bizarre story,” Suguru warns. 

“I have time!” Satoru sits up in his seat. Still gripping his forearm. 

“We—I, I have all the time in the world now, Suguru.” 

His casual laugh is anything but. Fractures in his base. A wobble at the tail end of Suguru’s name. 

Satoru is anything but casual. 

And Suguru knows it. 

The way his eyes soften when he scans the retired sorcerer’s face. He always did read Satoru like a children’s coloring book. 

“Sure, I’m on a break anyway.” 

Suguru settles into the seat across from him. Meanwhile Satoru digs the pads of his fingers into his thighs. Anything to keep from reaching out and caressing those stunning features that used to keep him (and everyone else) up at night. 

He was so stupid back then. 

Not letting himself acknowledge the way his body reacted to Suguru. The boy had his body so well trained within the first few days of meeting him. 

On any given day all Satoru wanted was to touch him. And feel him. And take him in any way Suguru was willing to give. 

Even when he gave, it was not enough.

How could it be?

Suguru’s heart ran deeper than Mariana’s Trench and soared higher than Mount Everest — and it still wasn’t enough to quench Satoru’s thirst. 

His visceral need. To live and breathe in the dark haired curse user with striking violet eyes. 

It’ll never be enough. 

“What’s on your mind, Satoru?” The barista probes. A question with the comfort of being familiar and pain of being foreign all at once. 

Satoru offers a lopsided smile. His hand swiping the moisture from the back of his neck.

“Sorry. You remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Mmm,” Suguru’s smile feels nostalgic. “Was he a good person?”

The question is earnest. Almost like he’s trying to learn about himself because his mind has betrayed him. 

Satoru gathers a shaky breath. Digging crescent moons into his sweaty palms. 

“The best.” He won’t cry today. He refuses to. 

“Principled. Moral. So right in his thinking it…” Satoru drops his gaze. 

Unable to sustain eye contact with his fondest memory and biggest regret. Just sitting across from him on a sunny Sunday morning. 

“Sounds like you liked him, then.” Suguru muses. 

“I loved him.” I love you.

“Mmm.” Suguru’s striking lines soften in a way that reminds Satoru why he could never muster the courage to hate him. No matter how many guns were pointed at his head.

An imaginary fork pushes around their words. Like the extra time in the air would let them dry out. Suddenly become devoid of all its meaning.

“Is something wrong?” Suguru breaks the silence and startles Satoru down to the present. 

“What?”

“The coffee,” Concern etched into the barista’s face. “Is there something wrong? You’re tearing up—“

Suguru’s hand lands on Satoru’s wet cheek before he has a chance to swipe the rogue tears away. 

And he can’t help himself. Both hands snake around Suguru’s wrist. The life vest he’s been desperate for.

 Satoru’s lids flutter shut. 

And for a moment, albeit fleeting, but present nonetheless — for a moment everything is right.

Satoru and Suguru are 17 again. Riding the high of being strong, the strongest. 

They were untouchable. 

And Satoru was so helplessly in love. 

Greens were emerald, back then. Oranges were saffron. But the Sun was Suguru. And if Satoru was the Moon then he clawed his way to dawn each night, just to get a glimpse of him. 

“Sato—“

“I’m sorry. Sorry about that.” Satoru bashfully relinquishes his grip. 

Despite its freedom, Suguru’s hand hovers over his cheek. Ready to act if any more tears come. 

Of course, he is. 

And thankfully, they don’t. 

But Suguru’s concern persists. “Just…wait here, okay? I’ll go get some tissues.” 

Satoru offers a feeble smile. A half nod in feigned agreement. But the millisecond he disappears around the corner, Satoru is out the door.

He promised he wouldn’t cry today. 

And it wouldn’t be the first time he lied to himself. 

“Gorgeous.” 

Suguru buries his face into a brush of plum blossoms. His morning walk is littered with them and for some reason he feels connected to the blooms.

Almost as if memories from a past life are clawing underwater — desperate to break the surface before the tide crashes in again.

A frustrated breath showers the soft petals grazing his nose. 

It’s cruel. 

Existing like this is cruel.

To live and breathe and walk next to lives rich with memories. Adorned with hope and love and loss and pain. 

Yet Suguru has nothing. 

He must’ve been a monster to deserve this punishment. To wake up a blank slate. The letters of his own name had to be learned.

He must’ve been awful. 

The chimes above the shop door knock his thoughts loose.

It’s not totally true. Suguru does remember one thing. The only thing from that night the gods saw fit to leave in his reservoir.

The cold. 

It seared through him like a sword fit for a king. 

Suguru was nearly blinded by the sterile fluorescent lights. The walls leaned away from him. Accusatory. His presence bastardized the delicate line between life and death.

It was unacceptable. 

And so, he paid the steep price of life after soul-death with his memories. 

It’s unfair how vividly Suguru remembers the campfire eyes that were foreign and yet so inviting. Hovering over him. Salty streams splashed on his face like a summer storm. 

“Suguru??” Honeyed tobacco on her voice. Sweet and stringent all at once. 

“You’re awake. You’re here. God I—“ Misty mahogany eyes raked his face for another second before she landed her body into his stunned arms. 

“W-who are you?” Suguru stammered into her dampened neck. Hugging her just as tight because it’s what his body told him to do. 

“Someone who hates you. And loves you more than I could ever hate you.” She was hushed and pressured. Pressing angry, short kisses along his forehead. Sore with a linear cut and stitches that stung. 

“You have to go.” The woman stuffed an envelope bursting with yen into his hand. Stuffing a wallet full of IDs and note cards into his other.

“What is all this?” Was the last question he squeezed out to the pretty stranger.

She hissed strict instructions on how to leave the city. Where he came to life was no longer safe. But she emptied her savings into his hands. Because if he just listened to her. If he followed her directions to a tee and make it out of city limits alive, he would be set for the next decade at the very least. 

This same memory plagues Suguru’s otherwise empty mind day in and day out. He’s learned to live with the sudden flashback that catches his heart mid-beat. And holds it hostage for a minute or two.

Suguru shrugs the chills sprinting down his spine away. Circling a damp napkin along the counter. Less than a minute before the doors unlock and he can just tell today is going to be one of those— 

7:00 AM on the dot.

A familiar wind chime interrupts his train of thought.

Already?

Suguru eyes land on the reason for the prompt melody. 

And his souls halts where he stands. 

He can’t be real. 

A dream maybe? A hallucination?

He must be. The light that halos around him from crown to feet originates in Heaven. Bright enough to pierce lightyears away through earth’s insignificant clouds and blind Suguru in his tracks.

Satoru. 

A celestial prince walking among the likes of him.

Wholly unworthy of witnessing something so beautiful. So above the plane of his existence. Suguru doesn’t deserve to breathe around the ethereal being, much less serve him coffee. 

But he’ll count his blessings, nonetheless. 

“Hard night?” Suguru forces a steady tone to his casual greeting. 

He’s anything but casual. 

“They always are.” Satoru’s boyish smile is the first sip of warm hot cocoa on a wintery Sunday morning. 

Suguru could nibble and suck and roll the demigod’s words over his tongue all day and never grow tired of the taste. 

He flips a freshly cleaned espresso mug under the machine. Mulling over the number of times he can claim “it’s on the house” before Satoru realizes he could ask Suguru for anything and it would always be on his dime. 

“You don’t sleep very much do you?” The barista probes. Swallowing the elaborate rock formation that somehow materialized in his throat the second Satoru landed the Aegean Sea on him. 

Those eyes stretch a million miles and Suguru would happily swim to the end of the earth to experience the entirety of them. 

“No.” A sheepish smile curls up Satoru’s full baby pink lips. Baring a 10,000 kilowatt smile that nearly electrifies him to death.  

Suguru settles an espresso and lavender latte in front of him. Waving away the outstretched credit card. 

“You can call me, you know.” The offer tumbles out of Suguru before he had the wherewithal to edit the frivolous statement.

“What?” Satoru’s gorgeous eyes widen and Suguru digs sharp nails into his sweaty palm.

“Call me.” He’s stupidly bold. 

“—When you can’t sleep. I’m not that interesting and don’t have much to by way of advice given that I only started creating memories a couple months ago. But I’m a good listener.” Suguru’s cheeks ascend in degree with each word of his sloppy rant. 

“You are…” Satoru corroborates his egregious claims as if it’s truth.

How would he know if he’s any good at listening? They just met yesterday morning. 

“So, call me.” Suguru shrugs his shoulders with the familiarity of someone who has known Satoru his whole life. 

Before the voltaic being can protest, Suguru scribbles digits that are plastered all over his apartment walls. Spaced repetition of his own phone number  for fear that his memory would decide to rip away the little he is currently storing. 

Time freezes while Satoru studies the scribbled numbers. His lips form that devastatingly beautiful blue smile more brilliant than his eyes. With the depth of twenty seas combined. 

“Yeah, okay.” The angel captures Suguru gaze. “I’ll call.”

And for the first time his new mind can recall, Suguru is dismantled piece by piece. His insides turned over by the searing pain that is disappointment. Because when he watched the mercurial boy leave the shop. And make the same right turn he did yesterday — Suguru’s heart knew. 

The phone wouldn’t ring.

And the call would never come. 

“Couldn’t exactly have him walking around Shibuya, with everything—“

“I know, but Shoko we can’t…”

Satoru’s voice stalls and he hovers on frustrated feet. Less than 10 paces from facing the love of his life on a Tuesday morning like his world hasn’t been turned upside down.

“We can’t just abandon him here. Alone. Confused. I won’t—“

“What do you want me to do Satoru?” Shoko interjects. Her frustration is palpable, yes, but the point is valid. 

Satoru drags in more liters of air than he knew possible. Letting it all out like storm winds in a category 5 hurricane.

“I don’t..I don’t know but I won’t leave him like this, Shoko. I can’t.” His voice couldn’t convince a fly with how shaky it is. 

But thankfully, Shoko can read him like a children’s book. She always could.

“Let’s talk about this in person. How soon can you get here?”

“I’ll be on the next flight out.” Satoru perks up. Urgency crashing into him like rip tides. 

He eyes the dark-haired barista through the window pane. Adjusting his eyes before fully taking in the boy of his dreams. 

And nightmares. 

Suguru is vibrant. 

In a way that hurts so good you can’t help but come back for seconds. And thirds. Fourths, fifths, whatever scraps he would be willing to give you’d get on your knees and beg for. 

Satoru would. Any day. 

“Hard night?” The former sorcerer calls out. 

“Yeah, but..” Suguru looks up and Satoru relaxes into a lovesick smile. “Good morning.”

A few seconds of wonderfully familiar silence falls between the boys. Suguru flips the espresso cup into place like he was born to do anything.

Anything he touches is artisan. That hasn’t changed in this new universe they exist in. 

“You never called, Satoru.” His voice is sweeter than whipped cream. Satoru gnaws on his cheeks to keep from choking on his desire. 

“I know.”

“I would’ve come.”

“I know.” And the traitorous tears well up without his consent again.

“Okay, okay.” Suguru is hushed. As if a decibel too loud would break Satoru’s dam.

Beautiful boy. 

His dam broke the night Suguru left him on the sidewalk for righteous ideals and the people who would follow them. 

It hasn’t been repaired since. 

“Lavender latte and something sweet. Back table?” Suguru whispers the order to himself and Satoru’s heart breaks. 

“To go, actually.” 

The sudden change in routine startles Suguru still.  “Oh.” 

Satoru rolls his abused lips under his teeth. Shuffling on his feet because it would take nothing for him to stay. And play this new game of life with his soulmate like the rest of it never happened. 

He would swallow the pain of his past everyday if Suguru so much as looks at him a certain way. 

“Why are you leaving?” Suguru’s brows crawl together in a way that’s so earnest. Satoru could fall to his knees. 

“I um…I know a doctor. She’s smart. And m-maybe she can help get your memories back..” 

“A doctor?” 

Suguru probes quicker than Satoru expected. Given that his response sounded insane to even his own ears.

“Honey brown eyes and hair…” The barista speaks to his hands as if he’s reading from cue cards. 

“Satoru this is going to sound crazy.” 

Suguru’s eyes light up and Satoru falls deeper in love. Like it’s the logical next step. An obvious response. 

“But I feel…did we—did we know each other?” 

Those gorgeous, amethyst eyes unravel the heavy chains around Satoru’s heart. 

You knew each other. 

Loved each other. 

Fought for, gave to, sacrificed it all for each other. 

Satoru unravels at his battered seams. Only able to hold the facade of a lopsided smile for a few more moments. 

“It’s a long, bizarre story.” It hurts to laugh. 

“Tell me,” the barista can’t hide his excitement. 

“We..we have time now. You mentioned it the other day, Satoru.” 

This boy will be the death of him. In every lifetime he’s reborn in. 

Satoru doesn’t even try to slap away the hot salty shower lining his sleep deprived eyes. 

“An infinity.” He nods. “So don’t…don’t forget about me, Suguru.”

The sun shines through his romantic smile. The stupid, boyish dimple cratered in his left cheek. 

“How could I?” Suguru hands over the latte and espresso in to-go cups. 

Blissfully unaware that he has already forgotten Satoru once. 

And he forgives him. He’s forgiven the special grade for much worse without question. 

And Satoru will continue to forgive him. 

The memories may be gone. 

The curtain may be closed on their first novel together. But if there’s anything Satoru has come to love it’s time. 

The Gods saw it fit to give them a little more time and Satoru would rather die than squander it. 

“You’re unforgettable, Satoru!” Suguru calls out, just as he exits the small town coffee shop. 

Yeah, well. 

Maybe in this new lifetime, he will be. 

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Epilogue

Eyeless Jack x Reader

A Demon's Ache Masterlist

With this final part, EJ's POV is finally complete! There are a few one-off bonus chapters I'm thinking about writing, but they'll either come after y/n's POV or randomly scattered about

I'd also like to start up another longer form series soon, so send in some ideas/suggestions if you have any ^^ A select few will be posted up in a poll to decide the final work uwu

Finally, the entirety of this series is dedicated to @cookiereblogss 🖤🖤

I was previously way too intimidated to write a longer series, despite always wanting to, but with cookiereblogss' incredible support, I was able to overcome that fear. In a way, I'd like to dedicate all of my future fic series to them as well, because I wouldn't have taken that first step without them. Thank you truly from the very bottom of my heart 🖤🖤🖤

And without further ado, I hope you enjoy this short lil smutty epilogue to the series!

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

It’s quiet, peaceful

Jack doesn’t fall asleep—he can’t, not after everything that’s happened—but he’s perfectly content holding you in his arms for now

Every now and again, he has to squeeze you just slightly harder to make sure this is real

It’s real—you’re safe, and happy, and he gets to hold you, and he’s still unsure about a lot of things, but you let him hold you, so that must mean things are going to be ok

He nuzzles into your hair, breathes in your scent, tries to savor the moment to its fullest

And it almost works, too

Keeping his mind occupied almost lets him forget about his worries

But every time he’s on the verge of letting go, he catches a glimpse of the mark on your neck, and all of the shame, guilt and worry lumps in his throat all over again

You let him hold you, you let him rest by your side—it’s going to be ok

Carefully, as though the wrong motion might break you, he lifts his hand and traces the mark with the back of his knuckle

The contact has you stirring, and before he can pull away, your eyes flutter open and you meet his gaze

A slow, soft smile grows on your lips

You lean into his touch, pressing closer into him

And then he just can’t resist tilting your chin up and stealing a kiss

Compared to the rushed, heated kisses that’d become the norm between you, this is the opposite

Slow and sensual, the warmth of your lips spreads to his chest and fills his body with a pleasant buzz

Your lips are so soft, your body so perfect against his, so warm and wonderfully inviting

You hum against him

Basking in it, basking in the peace of the moment, he cups your face and deepens the contact

He doesn’t expect anything more out of this

He simply wants to enjoy it

But when you make a muffled sound against him, almost like a whimper, something dangerous stirs within him

He tries to take a deep breath, tries to calm his less-than-pure urges, but when he breathes in, the scent of your growing arousal fills his lungs and his head starts spinning

Control it, control it, control yourself

Pushing down the temptation, he brushes his fingers along the slope of your face in an attempt to distract himself by memorizing the curves of your features

He follows an invisible line down your neck with the intention to eventually reach your hips and tug you in closer

But he doesn’t even make it halfway down your throat before you whine and push him off

Shit—he fucked up

Before he can blurt out a rushed apology, you push him onto his back, straddle his hips, and as if that wasn’t enough of a surprise, your lips clash with his, tongue reaching out to taste him like you're insatiable

The combination of it all short-circuits his brain

He doesn't even know what to do with himself; he simply lets you do as you please

It's only when you break the kiss to pull your shirt up over your head that he snaps himself out of his daze

“W-wait, (y/n)—“

He’s already panting, his stomach tensing with a knot of desire, but he manages to gasp the words out before you unclasp your bra

Pausing halfway through the motion, you look down at him questioningly

And at the sight of you, so visibly turned on with your lips freshly swollen from the make-out session—he immediately feels like an absolute idiot for telling you to stop

“Listen, I—“ he stumbles through his words like a horny moron, “I-you don’t need to do this. You know, y-you don’t have to—“

He cuts himself off as you finish undoing your bra, and the material falls away to reveal the perfect swell of your tits

Fuck, how’re you always so gorgeous?

It takes his breath away, and before he can recover, you take his hand and press it to the mark on your neck

The back of his knuckles trace over the bruised skin, slowly, softly, and as it does, you shudder

Your hips buckle, pressing down flush against his own, and a rush of heat has his cock throbbing against your sex

"I-I didn't realize it at first,” you murmur, “but..."

You trail off, and it almost looks like you're holding back a moan as you press his hand harder against your neck

"It's... it's sensitive"

You wriggle your hips for more friction, and he can't help but meet you halfway so that you’re fully grinding against him as you speak

“Whenever there’s any kind of pressure on it, it—it feels warm. Everything feels warm. And it—it aches,” you choke the word out, and fuck, if he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think you’re on the verge of begging for his cock right now

“I need you”

He holds back a groan as the words leave your mouth

And then it finally clicks

You’re in heat

Or, at least, as close as a human can get to a heat, anyways

He remembers reading about fresh marks triggering heats in his research—but he hadn’t realized they could affect humans too

The mere thought sends a surge of arousal—hot, sickly sweet, potent arousal rushing through him, and he has to take another breath to steady himself

But all he can smell is your arousal again, and it takes just about every ounce of his willpower to resist pinning you down and fucking you senseless

A low growl reverberates through his chest before he can hold it back

If touching the mark turns you on, he wonders what would happen if he licked it, if he bit it

With tense fingers, he grabs two fistfuls of your ass and distracts himself by kneading at the supple flesh

He shouldn't use the mark to his advantage—it'd be wrong of him to do so

But fuck if it isn't the most tempting thing ever

You make another sound again, like a sigh and a whine, and he uses his leverage on you to guide your hips over his bulge in impatient circles

You're soaked

He can feel it, even through his pants

He rolls his hips up in tandem with yours again, and he's obsessed with the way your face contorts with need and pleasure as his cock twitches between your thighs

You breathe out a curse, head falling back as you bring your hands up to your tits to toy with your own nipples

“Jack~“ you moan his name like a plea, sounding so needy that all he can do is groan at the sound, at the sight, at the scent of you

His mate

You're his mate—all for him

He wants to brand another mark into you

It's just about the only thing on his mind right now

As if one didn't cause enough trouble as is

But he can't help it; you'd just look so fucking gorgeous covered in his brand

The thought has shivers racing through his body

You yelp, and he realizes it’s because he’s digging his bulge right against your clit while simultaneously thrusting up

Fuck, he wants to ruin you

He wants your clothes off, wants you folded beneath him, wants you gushing around his cock while he abuses your tight little cunt

Long gone are his fears and worries over what happened

He just wants you—he needs you

You squirm on top of him, whining and whimpering as you're guided into riding him

With one particularly sharp thrust, you yelp, jerking forward, and you end up bracing your hands against his chest for balance

Which, in turn, grants him the perfect opportunity to lean up and press his mouth to yours in a heated, messy kiss

God, you taste so fucking sweet

He needs more

It’s all he can think about as his hands busy themselves with the rest of your clothes

And then before he knows it, you’re both naked and he’s on top of you and he’s aching to be inside of you

He barely takes the time to admire your flushed, naked body before throwing your legs over his shoulders, manhandling you without even meaning to, and bringing his length to the sensitive spot between your legs

His cock haphazardly smacks against your wet folds as he pushes his hips forward, and the filthy plea that falls from your lips has him groaning

He can’t wait any longer

Inch by inch, he pushes into you—until he’s almost completely stuffed inside your slick, velvety walls

His breathing’s ragged, his muscles flexed, his cock throbbing incessantly as he waits for you to adjust to his size

The wait, of which, is nothing short of agony

He's almost shaking by the time you relax around him

And as soon as you do, he pushes the few final inches in, and he groans as his tip brushes right up against your cervix

Control himself, control himself, he needs to learn to control himself

He swallows thickly, and then slowly, painfully slowly, he rocks back and forth into you

In and out, the wet sounds you make around him are nothing short of obscene

Your hands reach up to rake your nails down his back, and his grunts of pleasure mix in with your cute little moans and whimpers in a filthy symphony

In and out, in and out

He settles into a rhythm that could almost be described as lovingly fucking into you

But no matter how hard he tries to take things slow and soft, he knows his patience can't last forever

"Jack—n-need more~ Fuck, please!~"

He groans out a curse at the desperation in your voice

How could he possibly resist such a request?

The bed creaks loudly at his change of pace, accompanying the sound of his skin smacking against yours and your sweet, precious little sounds of bliss

He buries his face into your neck, and with the temptation of your flesh right next to his teeth, it suddenly becomes very hard to focus on going easy on you

He can't help it

Pinned beneath his larger, stronger form, you've no choice but to take everything he fucks into you

Your back arches, walls clenching frantically around him like you're trying to suck him in deeper with every thrust

And you're so fucking wet—he can't even tell if you squirted or if you're just that turned on

His thighs are coated in your slick

The pressure keeps building within him until his whole body's tense and all he can think about is filling you with his cum

He realizes he’s murmuring something under his breath, but he doesn’t even know what he’s saying—he doesn’t care

All he cares about is the sheer bliss of fucking you like an animal depraved

“Jack—!“

When you cry his name out again, he takes the opportunity to cram his tongue down your throat

Your eyes widen in surprise, but there's no mistaking the way you clamp so deliciously tightly around his cock when his tongue starts stroking yours haphazardly

If he wasn't in the midst of screwing your brains out, if the whole thing wasn't so fucking depraved, it'd almost be sweet

Your walls flutter, hips buckling weakly beneath his strong thighs like you’re getting overwhelmed, like kissing him while he’s so deep inside of you is too much for you to handle

With every ravenous stroke, every inch of his throbbing cock lovingly fucking into you, he feels you tightening, feels the muffled vibrations of your whimpers growing closer

He's just on the precipice of letting go when you suddenly grip onto him—hard

And he almost thinks fuck, he did something wrong

But then he realizes how loud you’re being, how your eyes are squeezed shut and your face is contorted in ecstasy

And he realizes you’re already cuming around him

He buries his face into your neck, grunting out filthy praises into your skin while you ride out your high

And he’s almost proud of how he’s able to control himself—how he can still manage to offer long, hard steady strokes despite your shaking and squirming and shamelessly loud moaning

But then you moan that you're his—you're all his—and just like that, his precious control finally snaps

He doesn’t realize just how hard and fast he’s fucking into you

He hears the bed creaking, hears the frame slamming against the wall, but it all feels distant—like it’s all just secondary to the way your body feels

You feel so, so incredibly fucking good

He snarls your name, lost in the pleasure, and only then does he realize that you’re shaking beneath him and cuming all over again already

Those sounds—those fucking sounds you make as you're pushed into overstimulation—they're fucking bliss

He knows you’re on the verge of reaching your limit, but he doesn’t want to stop—he can’t

He needs this

Even through the haze of his pleasure, he realizes he’s being selfish, but he’s too far gone to care

His tongue traces over your mark, and he’s seconds away from biting down into it—when your cunt clamps around him so fucking tightly that it immediately overwhelms him

You make the sweetest, filthiest sound he’s ever heard, and all of it combined is too much for him to handle

His hips jerk all the way into you, cock twitching uncontrollably, and harder than he ever has before, he cums

He spills himself as deep inside of you as he possibly can, until it feels like he’s fucking into your cervix and filling you to the absolute brim with his seed

He doesn’t realize he’s holding you there—pinning you down and forcing you to accept every ounce of his cum until you’re squirming and shuddering beneath him

Fuck

He pulls out, flinching at how tight you still feel around him, like your body doesn’t want to release him

And yet, as soon as he’s completely out, you immediately snap your legs shut like you're beyond overstimulated

He ignores the aftershocks of adrenaline and endorphins pumping through his system to make sure that you’re ok, he didn’t hurt you, you're ok

You’re panting, dazed and shaking after getting thoroughly fucked out of your mind, but you still find the strength to laugh as you reassure him that you're fine

Even then, it isn’t until you press a chaste, breathless kiss to his neck that he’s finally comfortable enough to lie down next to you and pull you into his arms to cuddle

The two of you bask in the afterglow of your love-making as you catch your breaths

He can hear your heartbeat, feel the rise and fall of your body against his chest as he hugs you into him

You, in return, nuzzle into Jack, your hair tickling his neck, and his stomach does a few backflips into his chest at the simple gesture

He tries to relax, tries to clear his mind and stop overthinking—if only to enjoy the moment while it lasts, but he just can't

As soon as the high of his climax fades away, he’s right back to worrying

Except this time, he finally bites the bullet and asks the question out loud

“Are you sure you want this?”

You stir in his arms, surprised by his sudden question

“What do you mean?”

His nerves kick up to a ten, and he almost considers backing out of the conversation

But he knows he shouldn’t—he can’t—not again

“Like… you know…" he hesitates, "this. Us. Are you sure you want this?”

It dawns on him that you might not fully understand the implications of the mark yet

Surely, at the very least, Slender explained the basis of it, and everything it entails, right?

“…I do,” you answer with a hum

Still somehow not convinced, as though this is too good to be true, he pushes it further

"And, I… the mark… you know it… it’s permanent, right?”

Another hum of confirmation, this time accompanied by feather-light traces over his ashen skin, the contact absent-minded

“Like… Slender told you the conditions, right? We can try to figure a way out of it, but we might be bound together for—“

He doesn’t finish his sentence before you tug his face into yours in another sudden kiss

Your lips are as addictive as ever, and he finds himself already wanting more—always wanting more—even as you pull away

“I thought about it—for a while,” you admit, “and..."

It's your turn to hesitate this time, and the brief pause in your words has Jack’s stress levels skyrocketing

"And I wasn't sure about it at first"

You stop tracing invisible patterns on his skin, and he immediately misses the contact

He’s hanging off your every word by this point

The anticipation’s just about killing him

"It’s kind of a scary thought,” you eventually continue, “and... I've never been good at this sort of thing, but... I-I want this, Jack. I want you"

Even hearing you say it, hearing the words come out of your mouth, it still doesn't feel real

"And I... I know the mark might be affecting me somehow," you reach up, acting on instinct, to brush near the skin of your neck as you speak, "but I don't think it is. I think I’ve known for some time now, but… but I was too scared to admit it”

You swallow thickly

“I... I want to be with you, Jack”

You take a deep breath

“I… I think I’m in love with you”

Jack's heart seizes

It feels like it stops beating right then and there

A moment passes, and then another

It’s like his brain’s trying to decipher what you just said, like surely that doesn't actually mean what he wishes it means... right?

He realizes that he’s not saying anything, and you're growing nervous at the lack of response

But there’s a lump lodged in his throat and he doesn’t think he’d be able to form a cohesive sentence even if he tried

After what happened that night of his transformation, he never thought anyone would be able to love him again

He never thought he’d be worthy of someone’s love

But here you are

You're in his arms, in his bed, and you trust him enough to be this vulnerable around him

He doesn’t know what to say

He doesn’t know what to say, so he just cups your face and kisses you—hard

He forgets everything else around him

The world melts away until it’s just the two of you

Your scent, your taste, your everything—it's electrifying

When he pulls away, you’re dazed and panting once more, and the euphoria of it all is dizzying

He presses his forehead to yours, and you close your eyes, enjoying the closeness

“I love you,” he finally answers

It feels like a dream

He can’t believe he’s able to say the words out loud

You press your lips to his once more, and he realizes things are going to be ok—and he’s not just thinking that to reassure himself

He has you in his arms, and you’re safe, and you're all his, and everything is going to be ok

[bearw-me]

Drinking Buddies with Husk!

𐐒 includes : gender neutral reader 𐐒 cw : drinking/alcohol, fluffs, drunk rambling 𐐒 summary : mainly platonic but you could read as romantic too (in fact i'd love it if you did!) 𐐒 note : lil' self indulgent, love me sum whiskey myself... & with husk is just <3

Husk considers 'drinking buddy' and 'friends' two completely different fields, and even then, being his drinking buddy is (what I consider) a special privilege. . . not bestowed to many

he likes to unwind once and a while as much as the next sinner. . . but who really likes to wallow in self-pity by themselves? having company is always fun

the best company (as Husk considers you)

lets be real, how many people would Husk enjoy drinking with?

but its because he can practically see right through you. . . with those narrow yellow eyes of his, you almost feels transparent

and you are with him

if Husk wants no bullsht (i mean especially if the two of you share some drinks) he'll get it

in return, you allow Husk to be himself and rant all his drunken thoughts he has pent up inside of him

"I can't. . . I can't BELIEVE they got me working the bar at the. . . the. . . uh. . . waittt. . . what did you say about Angel?"

you laugh at him, both of your faces flushed, held up haphazardly with your hands leaning against Husk's bar top. Heads wonderfully buzzed.

Husk (near sht-faced) actually starts to purr, doing those slow blinks that cats do

I imagine Husk allows you to take his hat and wear it at some point, either he doesn't care or he doesn't even notice until you two wake up hungover (still at the bar no less)

Drunk bar songs w/ Husk, wherein he has his arm around your shoulder!

At his bar, or in his company, Husk has a special glass just for you.

Husk cleans all the glasses when no one's at the bar, and he notices the way you like to hold your drink and play with it in your hands. So when you take to a particular one (the perfect size for you hands) Husk puts it aside for when you come around!

no matter what you prefer to drink, Husk still makes you new drinks to consider and try out if you'll take it

always watches out for you btw and keeps you head up (literally)

but Husk loves drinking with you, he doesn't have to worry too much about—much really, and he knows he can depend on you too if he ever needed it, bar-fight wise anyway

i think he'd actually feel a twinge of jealous once and a while if 'the wrong' person were to approach you, especially if he was looking forward to your company and you actually seem to prefer the presence of someone else over him

Husk is the perfect drinking buddy imo

he's equal parts mature, responsible, and I could 100% picture the old cat being a hilarious drunk if he was pushed far enough!

Husk doing drunk magic tricks and sleight-of-hand for more drinks, or to impress

Husk has a very high tolerance for booze, but doesn't like to mix his drink types often

[cilil]

For the inbox game for fanfic writers:

what is your least favourite character to write about and why?

name three fic writers you personally like to read from or are inspired by.

🖤

Hey love and thanks for the ask🖤

What is your least most favourite character to write about and why? (cílil is blind apparently)

I've talked about Eönwë in a previous response and purposefully left Mairon for you🌚

Mairon is... definitely among my favorite characters to write ever. He is such an evil little shithead and a hater and hot and smart and just everything that is entertaining and interesting to me. I have spent an ungodly amount of time thinking about this man, his life, his messed up relationships and his more than shady opinions and dealings for almost a decade. He is, simply put, iconic.

Writing about him feels like selecting your favorite character in a video game and already buzzing with excitement while you stare at the loading screen (or in this case your writing document) because you just KNOW you're gonna have a blast.

Name three fic writers you personally like to read from or are inspired by

@i-did-not-mean-to. She has a style that I find entertaining and engaging to read and she has written my number one comfort fic (yes, it's Gothmog x Eönwë smut)

@verecunda and @crackinthecup have both shared pieces of writing that I found incredibly well-composed, enjoyed reading and felt like I could learn from the way they paint scenes

You. One day I will steal those wonderfully delicious vibes from you and EAT THEM

Did I cheat a bit here? Maybe, but I don't care. In fact I could list a lot more writer friends and mutuals here that I admire for various different things and aspire to learn from, so please nobody be discouraged. I probably either told you in comments before or at least attempted to while I was violating my keyboard to express my emotions x)

[csphire]

My thoughts and headcannons about Dammon:

For starters, a pure headcannon is that one of his parents or grandparents is elven or human given the uncommon whites of his eyes. Also why his overall look seems almost more delicate compared to the other tieflings refugees we find in the Druid Grove.

I daydream about if and how he struggled to navigate in two worlds where perhaps he always felt a little out of place. Not quite fitting in with either, and so he turned to his craft with more zeal than most to find solace. Or maybe his clever mind alone made it hard to relate to most, too. So he often goes inward to a place where he feels he belongs, safe, and it helps shelter his creative soul.

It might be part of the reason why he stuck to his forge rather than joining the others in celebration. Large gatherings make him a little uneasy as he's not well-versed in small talk. His mind instead buzzes away to pick apart and resolve problems instead. He likes to keep moving and forgets to eat, sleep, and clean up sometimes.

Right now, he comes off confident yet humble and aware of his limitations when it comes to his art.

"He blames his tools."

No, he has a very thorough understanding of what he can do with what he has and yet he continues to always strive to push past those limits. He finds a way to make do in any circumstance, learn from it, and always seek solutions.

That is the most wonderfully appealing and relatable thing about him with other creative souls-or anyone for that matter. His work is everything to him as it drives away bad memories and has been his safe space for most if not all of his adult life or even longer.

As for those eyes of his to me, they look like solar eclipses in a summer's sky now. I think he knows how to wield them to advantage but only just a little.

He's not very practiced at seduction as his hammer. I get a sense that he's suffered a rejection in the past that cut so deep it makes him hesitant to this day. That and he kinda comes off as an overthinker, which can fuel doubts when it comes to matters of the heart. The way he moves, his head dipping comes off a little shy with only a vague idea of just how bewitching he can be. He's most confident and shines the brightest when speaking about his work. He's the most breathtaking in those moments.

On launch, at seeing how he had been changed, all I could whisper aloud in awe was, "Whoa... they sure gave him a glow up! Wow, his eyes are even more mesmerizing now..."

But even in early access, I fell for that dreamy look he had in them when they lacked an infernal glow and were but red and gold. We all fell for his wistful yearnings murrmered as he worked. How it plucked at our heartstrings and gave us a small, if not large, compulsion to bring him every hammer or other forge related item we found.

Even in the city of Baldur’s Gate, if I see a hammer or ingot, I snatch it up and think, "Dammon could sure use that!"

[bihansthot]

I don’t usually post WIPs but I figured since this one might be long and might take a while to finish, I would. How are we feeling about it thus far? Feedback is appreciated. :) Also a title would also be really helpful. This will be a solo Syzoth x f!reader but there is an established OT3 with Bi-Han too because they’re all together and all happy because I said so, but Bi-Han won’t have a big role in his story. The main focus will be a desperate, animalistic, very much in need Reptile satiating his primal needs with the readers help. Again I don’t know if I’ll have this done by the game’s release, but I’m trying to, my partner is out of town for the next two days, so I have plenty of time to write, but I also have to look after Denny, so I’m trying to balance writing and park time. So, anyway I hope you loves enjoy the sneak peak of what I’m up to.

You yawn and roll around the bed groggily, you’re disoriented and groggy and more pressingly, cold. At some point during the night, your electric blanket had decided to turn itself off and you curse the automatic timer to yourself before burrowing deeper under the covers. Something feels off though, not right, and you roll over towards his side of the bed and realize he’s not there, “Sy?” You call out, unwilling to come out of your mountain of blankets as you search around the bed fruitlessly, “Bi-Han?” No answer from either, not that you expected the Grandmaster to actually still be in the vicinity of the bedroom, he had most likely been awake for quite some time overseeing mission paperwork and morning workouts. You shiver as you force yourself out of bed, very reluctantly, and throw on your heavy fur-laden robes as you make your way to the bathroom. You put your hair back before splashing some water on your face and scrubbing the cleanser onto your face, you take a moment to savor the hot water on your skin. You almost reluctantly pat your face dry with a nice fluffy towel as you set upon the rest of your morning routine, you yawn loudly as you make your face up, of course, both Bi-Han and Syzoth insisted your were beautiful as is, but you wore makeup for yourself, not for your lovers. Besides you didn’t like how sleepy and sickly you always looked without eyeliner on so you set to your task and draw a thin line of coal over your eyelids and make your final touch-ups. You change into your fur-lined day clothes and head out of the Grandmaster’s chambers.

You wander around the compound for a bit trying to keep an eye out for either of your lovers, but having little luck tracking down either. Slowly you make your way to the kitchen, breakfast was long over but if you were lucky you’d still be able to sneak a bowl of congee from the girls in the kitchen. Luck was in your favor as you enter the wonderfully warm kitchen and greet the girls, “Zhilan, good morning!” You call brightly as your morning fatigue seems to lessen upon seeing your favorite of the serving girls.

“Good morning my lady!” she replies happily, bowing lowly as a sign of respect for you, “I set aside a bowl of congee and some soft boiled eggs for you.”

“You’re a live saver Zhilan!” You smile happily as you take the bowl of piping hot congee from her before helping yourself to a nice hot cup of coffee. You take a seat on one of the wooden stools in the spacious kitchen as you begin to enjoy your breakfast, there was nothing particularly remarkable about the congee but it was hearty and warming and in the harsh climate of Arctika, nothing seemed to hit the spot quite like it. You take your time finishing your breakfast, but nearly gulp down the coffee, desperate for the satisfying buzz of caffeine. “Say, Zhilan, have you seen Bi-Han or Syzoth this morning? I can’t seem to find either.”

“The Grandmaster was overseeing the youth practice this morning, but I haven’t see Master Syozth, my lady, I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you,” she looks down worried as Zhilan replies to your query.

“Ah ok, thanks so much, I’ll go pester Bi-Han then,” you slid the dishes into the sink before thanking the girls again and heading back out into the harsh cold. You make your way to the training grounds following the grunts and dejected cries from the young initiates, “Polar Bear, there you are!” You smile happily as you make your way across the training field and find the Grandmaster there sternly barking out corrections.

“Qīn, you’re finally awake I see,” he smiles playfully as he motions for Kuai Liang to take over directing the young warriors. He glares intensely at his students as he hears snickering and snide comments from a few of the more troublesome students, “you and you! See me after class. I have buckets with your names on them.”

You wince slightly at his tone and the harsh punishment of making the boys stand out in the cold for who knows how long holding heavy water-laden buckets with their arms extended. “Polar Bear, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have interrupted class, maybe go easy on them for once?”

“There’s no mercy in the Lin Kuei qīn, you should know that by now.” Bi-Han sneers before steering you off to the side, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, I don’t think at least, I just can’t find Sy and was wondering if you had seen him,” you answer truthfully.

“I saw him early this morning, something seemed,” the cryomancer pauses for a moment as if searching for a phrase that wouldn’t alarm you, “off. His eyes seemed unfocused and his breathing was hard, I sent him to the physician. I’m not sure a human physician will be able to tend to a Zaterran though.” Bi-Han answers as he cups your worried face and his cold fingers caress your cheek trying to assuage your worries.

“Is, is he going to be ok?” You ask worriedly, torn between staying with Bi-Han a moment longer and running to the medical bay.

“I think it’s just a fever qīn, I’m sure he’ll be fine once it breaks, Syzoth is a strong, powerful warrior, something like a little fever won’t keep him down for long.” Bi-Han reassures as he pats your head, his tall frame dwarfing yours.

“I’m going to go check on him, maybe the healers will have some more information,” you reply before reaching up on your tip toes to give Bi-Han a peck on his cheek.

“I’ll see you for dinner qīn, I have to work through lunch, there’s so many contracts to go through,” Bi-Han sighs as he bids you farewell and heads back to barking orders at the trainees.

You wave goodbye to your lover and his brother before making your way across the sprawling compound to the healers.

[imarvelatstars]

star-burned

Pairing: Jesse x gn!Reader

Word Count: 769

Content: modern au, implied smut but nothing explicit, fluff

Prompt: summertime for the clone bingo event by @karttaylir-darasuum

For the first time in a very long time, you wake up and Jesse is there. No more deployments, no more long-distance calls and patchy video messages. No more waiting for him to return to you, longing across the vast expanse of the globe, franticly worrying if he's near a battle zone or not, if his life is at risk. No, for the first time in a long time, neither of you has to worry about any of that.

He's finally free.

You press a kiss to his bare shoulder, light enough that he doesn't wake, and fully intend to stop there, but having the canvas of his skin exposed to you like this, in the quiet paradise of a modest cabin in the middle of literal nowhere, away from war and work and the hustle and bustle of everyday life, you find that you cannot stay away from your soldier for very long. You can't keep your mouth off him.

After all, you have a lot to make up for. Years worth of time apart, time when you could have been showering him in your affection.

"Mm, got something on your mind, babe?" His voice is roughly carved and guttural this fresh from sleep.

You pause only long enough to swat playfully at his butt before you continue kissing and nuzzling your way along his shoulder blade. There's no real rush, no method to your madness, not even an underlying desire for more as you explore him - just a simple desire to love the man who's carved a space for himself in the caverns of your heart.

"Just love you," you say when your lips reach the nape of his neck.

Jesse shivers, then suddenly flips onto his back so he can grab at you. You squeal and he laughs, and everything's a blur for a few moments as you both struggle to wield your leverage against the other, but he wins in the end. Jesse always wins.

His nose presses to yours, then his forehead to your forehead, and you feel his breath stir warm and stale on your cheeks. "Ka nui te aroha."

You kiss him, and he smiles into it the way he always does. "Love you more."

"Not possible."

"I dunno. I hafta put up with your morning breath, so I think that means I love you more."

"Tch, shuddup," he groans, to which you challenge that he ought to try and make you, and the morning devolves from there.

It's only some hours later, when you've both showered and dressed and eaten (and gotten distracted by each other every inch of the way), that you finally leave the cabin and head outside. Summertime has finally breached Aotearoa's shores and every corner of the country is celebrating - the birds are singing, the wind is mild as it carries the sunshine along, the trees lounge lazily while the cicadas buzz and click incessantly, and Jesse is eager to show you it all. He takes you for a walk through the forest, up and down windy paths under shaded canopies, past fields of wildflowers and tiny streams that trickle over scattered rocks.

This world is a lot of things. It's fractured and hurting in too many ways to count, but it's also beautiful and sweet, an ever-evolving universe spun from natural majesty and love and sunlight. You feel it now - the sun, burning into your skin in that wonderfully pleasant way it can only do when the clouds are long gone and the sky is dazzlingly blue. And much like the Earth to its star, you find yourself drawn into Jesse's orbit as he guides you through the countryside.

You're both toasted and sweaty by the time you return to the cabin late in the afternoon. Twilight leads to a lazy evening spent lounging on the sofa, watching your favorite show and munching on tim tams.

"I'm glad you're finally home, babe."

He nuzzles his face into your cheek and smiles. "Me too." It's funny how you never noticed how long his lashes were. Or maybe you'd forgotten with the distance. Either way, you can't help thinking he's the most beautiful man on Earth when his nut-brown eyes pierce through them. "Thank you. For waiting."

You'd have waited 10 lifetimes over for him.

It's there in that cabin, tucked into some obscure corner of the country where the cicadas drive him half crazy and the sun burns his head, that's where he asks you the question you'd never been sure he would ask, what you were afraid he'd never live long to say.

You say yes.

[slovo-theshattered-onion]

Okay Google, How Do I Cope with an NDA About Nothing Relevant at All?

this is a continuation of that one story i posted, like, the day before yesterday or so about adam and jeremiah and it's from a third party's perspective :D :D :D 2908 words !! enjoy <3

cws: office work, mentioned transphobia, alluded to Severe Mental Health Issues, coming in possession of the Juiciest Gossip that you can under no circumstance share, allusions to kidnapping but only if you squint, possibly (probably) very ignorantly written muslim POV character (tell me if i did an offensive please, i have random bits of knowledge all over the place but i admittedly mostly sourced this post while writing so. by far, not perfect research 👍)

Someway, somehow, despite QaTRO being one of the queerest organisations in Portugal if not worldwide and therefore full of all flavours of people, no one in the ranks is more mouthwateringly intriguing than their boss.

All the tabloids huddle routinely at the entrance to QaTRO's offices in vain hopes to catch so much as a glimmer of the man, to say nothing of the perpetually snooping smear campaigners. Everyone knows of his fashion sense, yet no one knows where he gets his clothes; everyone knows he has transitioned and had most of the available surgeries, but not one photo of him from before has been found; everyone knows he's wonderfully wicked in bed, but anything about his personal relationships is barely speculation at best; everyone knows Adam Pereira the myth, but all anyone knows about Adam Pereira the man is that he's supposedly Brazilian-American and, if you catch him in a conversation, funny and sweet to cavities.

Maryam would love to say it's different inside the offices, but the only additional fact they're all privy to is that Adam very specifically refuses to finish renovating one of the bathrooms on the third floor specifically so he can hide there whenever someone asks him too many questions about his past or personal life. The only different thing is, really, that they can come to him with the fruits of their 'make up the wildest things about Adam Pereira' improv game and get entirely unhelpful feedback. Even as his secretary, Maryam doesn't even know what city he lives in after almost two years of constant direct contact! 

All she knows of that is, he's somewhere not too far from Lisbon since he says he has an hour and a half commute to work. Like any other non-demonstrable fact about the boss, though, it's as good a piece of information as that theory he's secretly a cis mafioso from Florida who skinned his arm to mimic a phallo skin graft to... She's not sure what exactly, but the sheer novelty of an anti-transvestigation has stapled the thought into her head permanently.

Either way, the point is, no one knows anything at all about Adam Pereira, and the employees at QaTRO have long since stopped asking because the awkward, sweet guy they're working for will find any possible weasel route out of answering. In worst case scenarios, he’ll have a panic attack about it in his personal, dusty, paint-fumed bathroom stall, as well; running damage control in such cases is pretty much the only time his secretiveness affects Maryam poorly, so. She just enforces his boundaries for him, no big deal.

Which is why, when he shows up a day early after one of his semi-annual missionary trips for threatening tea with the governor of Florida- see also, mafioso rumours- she expects him to spend a customary week home, before getting back to the office and never speaking of why he changed his schedule. Alhamdulillah, the improv game has been getting a bit stale. Only so wild you can go before even discussing evidence for 'he's secretly the avatar of some black hole millions of light years away' loses its punch.

What she's not expecting is her work phone buzzing with Adam's number a good four days before he's due back at the office at the very tail end of her shift.

Staring at the contact name, Maryam contemplates if she should have some kind of emergency service on hot dial just in case the ocean's about to burst alight. Her phone continues to vibrate out the melody- soundless, since it has to be semi-professional- of a song about suspicious businessmen. Well, no use delaying; she swipes to answer.

"Maryam! Hello, my beautiful and most valued assistant. Are you available for a short chat?" Voice spiking through the speakers, Adam asks through the bustle of whatever public place he's apparently in.

Maryam raises her brows. "Subhan Allah, Adam? Is everything okay? Can you cough twice if you're possessed?" Smiling, she leans back in her gamer-grade office chair and crosses her legs. Doesn't sound like her boss is in any kind of immediate danger, at least; her shoulders untense just enough for her to notice how tight they got.

"Oh- no, no, everything's fine. I'm just- you have two sugar babies, right? I need gift ideas."

... What?

"For a sugar baby?" To check if she perhaps misheard, Maryam rises from her chair. No one should come into her and boss’ office without knocking, but better to lock the door just in case.

"Not- quite? I just have someone who I need to know with a hundred percent certainty that money is not an issue. Anything expensive will probably do, but I don't know how personal to make it? Or is it better to just hand over hard cash? I mean, I'm planning to open him a bank account soon anyway. It won't count as a gift if I think it's a necessity though, right??" Rattling off, Adam's voice drowns out all the background bustle, "Shit, it totally doesn't, getting a haircut and new clothes didn't convince him. What do I do then?-"

"Woah, deep breath, bossman. It's okay, this really isn't that straight forward but we'll figure it out, In Shaa Allah." Maryam interrupts, tone as comforting as she can get it, and drops on the impossibly cosy sofa at one of the office walls, "In my experience, stuff that they wanted to get for a while but never had specifically enough money for tends to get it across clearest, but what that is really depends on the person. For Simon, it was Faber-Castell pencils, but that'd never work for Ieva, you know? I know you're a private guy, so I won't pry, but I figure you're diligent enough to figure it out." She smiles, "Whoever's in your orbit is lucky to have you, Subhan Allah."

Silence. Not even sounds of a crowd peek through from the other end of the line; did Adam hang up? He very rarely does without a polite goodbye.

Just as Maryam lifts the phone from her ear to check if the call's still on, Adam speaks again. "Is the printer on?"

Oh? Where's he leading with this? Straightening up, Maryam looks over to the printer shrine, and satisfied to find the little light on, falls back into the cushions. "Yeah? What'd you need, bossman?"

"I need you to type out and print a one way NDA for yourself with specifications as I dictate. It's okay if not, but I'll be hanging up then. I don't mean to bribe you, I promise this isn't any kind of important information-"

"Please don't worry about bribery, Astaghfirullah, you know I'd get myself blackmailed for gossip." Already at the desk, Maryam opens a text document, "Ready when you are!"

Silence, again. Whatever Adam wants to tell her must be pressing on him. Her fingers twitch over the keyboard, and she shifts her hold on her phone to her shoulder.

"Use the typical template, fill it out with your name as the recipient and mine as the discloser. Have clause three saying that you may not share the information with anyone under any circumstances other than if your silence will cause direct, certain harm, and edit clause six to include that you may not create any notes or recordings of any of the confidential information I disclose, paraphrased or otherwise. The term is indefinite, oh, and clause four point a, specify it does not apply to commenting on any otherwise leaked information." Adam breathes, "You can back out whenever until the thing is signed, of course."

Snorting, Maryam checks over her work- she's efficient and Adam knows it- and presses the print button. "Too late, I've got a pen out, Bismillah. Who do you want me to forge into our witness?" Easy, she rolls over to the printer in her chair, signing herself and forging Adam in right against a clipboard that lives at the printer shrine for this exact purpose.

"Go catch someone in the hallway, I'd like this to be a somewhat credible document." Sounding slumped, Adam breathes.

Not one to need being told twice, Maryam bolts for the door, unlocks and waves down a random group of employees passing by- presumably about to leave- with the clipboard. "Hey! Anyone want to be legally liable? Or, well, make me legally liable. Boss' having me sign an NDA."

The employees- all from lower tiers, so generally not overly familiar to her- look between each other before one of them shrugs, trots over and signs where Maryam points them to. Bowing her gratitude, she twirls back into the office and locks again. "Done and dusted, what's the confidential information?"

Even through phone speakers, she hears Adam sigh.

"I- have a new roommate. He is literally the most perfect thing on planet Earth. How the fuck am I meant to cope?" Trailing low into a pathetic whine by the final sentence, Adam bemoans, and oh, that sounds like a crush. Holy shit life's unfair, Maryam can't even breathe a word about this- anyway.

"Hm, well it sounds like you want to take care of him. What's the issue with just spoiling the guy?" Back on the sofa, she pulls off her Mary Janes, folding her legs under her.

"We're not, like, a thing, Maryam. He spooks so easily at too much touch, not to mention his metric of 'too much' is so different- I feel sick, I'm gonna dieeee." No doubt draping over something like the hopeless slinky he is, Adam groans. He doesn't ask if Maryam's ever felt this way, doesn't divert attention; he wanted to share, clearly, but it's still a little weird that he’s doing this at all.

Chest tight, Maryam worries her lip as she smiles. "Wanna tell me more about what he might like as a gift, then? Brainstorm solutions, In Shaa Allah, figure out what your boy-toy to be will go crazy for."

A moment of silence. "He really likes that blindfold Besouro gifted me. Blindfolds like that aren't very expensive, though, and mine works just fine. Would he like some kind of kit for making stained glass windows?? He said he was always sad his church didn't have one of those and loved to make fake ones with plastic and sharpies- that's probably something to ask, god. Maryaaaam, how do you do this?"

Oh no, Adam's down bad. It doesn't even sound like he's trying to change topics, just- genuinely in need. Maryam shifts, biting at her barely contained grin. "Well, okay, what's his vibe? Maybe you can find something by thinking less specific things, you know, open your mind." Maybe this is a bit less of a helpful question and more of her trying to suss out as much as she can in what will probably be one single conversation where she gets to learn something her boss deems 'personal', Astaghfirullah.

Man, will she be the only one in the whole wide world who actually knows his type-

"He's... He's divine, Maryam. So effortlessly cool, it's like he doesn't need to think even for a second for witty comebacks, and so caring, and he hates overly sweet things but I bet if I took a bite I'd taste honey. He doesn't like hugs, but he pushed past it to comfort me and I nearly had a heart attack. And I can't do anything! Because- because I'm dumb. This situation is dumb. Man, if I didn't act so impulsively- sorry, I, it's-"

"Breathe, Adam." Straightening, Maryam soothes before her boss can choke on his own throat, "I don't know what your situation is, and I won't push, but I'm sure you can handle it. If he's really as lovely as you say, I'm sure he'll work with you and not against you, yeah? It sounds like he cares about you, you know." She smiles, sweet, hoping it carries through the speakers.

This is the most vulnerable Adam's ever been with her. Tight in the chest, she pulls her legs up and squeezes herself into a hug. Really, the worst thing about Adam Pereira's secretive nature is, he loves to listen, it's almost harder not to tell him things. Try to share his burdens, though, try to give him the kind attention he blankets everyone with so easily, and he's gone.

... Huh. She didn't realise him pushing her away hurt, until now-

"I- there's a power imbalance. He can't- I don't want to force him." Choked, Adam says.

Breathing, Maryam wets her lips and eases up her muscles. "Hey, I'm not forcing my sugar babies even if I'm much more influential than them, right? It's no big deal if you both understand-"

"None of your sugar babies were homeless before you took them in, Maryam." Adam snaps.

Oh. Oh, that's-

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to- it's fine, it's fine. I just, I won't be making any moves, I've been good at it. Some kind of completely not-suggestive gift that he could sell for a shit load of money if he ever needs to escape, and- and that's fine. It's- sorry, I'll-"

"Adam-" What does Maryam say, he'll probably hang up soon, "it's okay. It sounds like you love him, that's- that's hard. I don't know what exactly you did, but- I know you won't hurt him, because you care, a lot, and you're good at it. Just- please come to me to let it out every once in a while, okay? It hurts to be shut out of your life like that, to never be able to give back- I mean, it's fine, if you just talk to your therapist about it it's fine, you don't have to- you don't have to push yourself. Just, I'm here for you, okay?"

Silence. Did he hang up and she not notice-

Heavy, a breath crackles through the speakers. "I- I brought him here from Florida." Adam confesses, "And I... Over-exaggerated the dangers of me just, sponsoring him to help him out of poverty." Another breath, shuddering, "I don't know what it is. I've never felt this way before, but we were talking and, shit, I wanted to have him. Just for myself, close, soft, perfect. And then it was too late to back out, and I'm just- finding whatever excuse I can to throw money at him so he doesn't get trapped. And I- I'm sorry, it shouldn't be your problem."

A warmth unspools, loosening tension, through Maryam's body. "I want it to be my problem, you silly boy. We've known each other for over two years, closely for over one, you know how bad I wanted you to trust me?" She snorts, tenses, shakes her head, "Back to the topic though, you fell in love, and now you know those stupid romances don't exaggerate. You're fixing it all up, aren't you? You'll tell him the truth soon, I know you, and In Shaa Allah, you'll let him go if he wants to go. If you don't, you'll now have to deal with me knowing, and I won't be sweet about it. I promise it'll be okay, yeah? It's a bad deal, and you know well how to make the best out of those."

Silence. Adam sighs before Maryam can even get worried, the smallest groan hiding in his breath. "Shit. I'm sorry I hurt you. I-" Light, he huffs, "It never occurred to me people could be really sad that I don't share. Guess I am a silly boy, damn." Humour no-doubt forced in his voice, he exhales, long and heavy but seemingly smiling, "You're a charm, you know that, Mary?"

He's said that before. Somehow, this particular time it's like peach soufflet on Maryam's tongue, soft, warm and sweet; she's really, really very soft for people trusting her, relying on her, wanting her, isn't she? Crinkles in her eyes, she giggles. "I'm glad. And it's not that bad, I had a lot of practice with clammed up men since I was very little. What's one more to the pile?"

Whining like he did in the beginning of the call, Adam's probably all shrimpy with his posture as his smile flows through the speakers. "I'm not even ashamed, is the thing!! I'm just paranoid! Jesus Christ, this is awful." Light, he jokes.

It's so nice to have one of Maryam's best friends finally reciprocating. Allah, she may just cry.

Instead, she glances to the clock, and blinks at the time. Four eleven! Her shift's over and she'll be late to get home in time for Maghrib if she doesn't get a move on. "Mhm, well, I won't tell no one, not even the first man I ever pincered out of his clam little shell, so you're gonna be safe. Now go! Get your crush a gift. If he's one of ours, nothing's less suggestive than a childhood dream, you know? Get him a barbie or a fire truck or something, In Shaa Allah, he'll like it. Tell me how it goes, good luck!"

With that, Maryam hangs up on him. She can only imagine him cursing the air, but she does get an email that she received a bonus just as she's about to shut off her computer; it's as playful as ever, and the tea roses blooming in her chest open sweeter than they have in days.

Truly, there's no drug like earning someone's trust.

[everybodyshusband]

another little sneak peak of this same wip that's been kicking my ass, because people seemed to like this snippet that i shared a while ago.

just like last time, t4t raindrop (ftm!dew, nonbinary!rain), texting, dewdrop being a little shit, and a vibrator under the cut:

The phone buzzes—just once this time, it mustn't be another phone call, then—from where Dewdrop threw it onto the mattress earlier. He gropes around for it, taking a few tries to get a proper grip on it, focussed as he is on the overwhelming sensations of Rain’s gift inside his cunt. He clicks the phone on and stares at the screen. It’s a text from Rain. He huffs, realising he’ll have to stop pressing the vibrator into himself in order to answer it. He’s consoled by the fact that if he positions it properly, and clenches around it just right, he’ll still be able to have it filling him up. He’ll still be able to feel the vibrations deep inside his cunt, even if he’s not actively sliding it in and out.

princess rain ♡: i know you’re still awake

sundew ♡: and??

princess rain ♡: i can hear you baby boy

Dewdrop pretends the words on his screen don’t send a wave of arousal through him that ratchets him dangerously close to the edge all over again. Something his cum-drunk brain hadn’t thought about earlier, was if Rain could hear him from their room earlier, they must be able to hear him now as well. And if they can still hear him from all the way down at the opposite end of the corridor... then everyone else must be able to as well. The realisation is just enough to tip him over the edge and have him cumming again with a shout; almost immediately, too. He thrusts the vibe into his cunt more frantically and swipes his fingers back and forth over his dick, bucking his hips up into the touch erratically and paying no mind to the way his wrists both start to cramp up from just how long this burst of pleasure lasts. He’s not quiet about it. He purposefully makes his noises deliciously loud; it spurs him on just as much as he imagines it spurring on his packmates. He wants the sounds to ring out through the ghoul quarters and have his partners grinding against their sheets and pressing a hand against their mouths as they listen to him; wants them to get off on the sound of him in the throes of his pleasure. He can picture them all so clearly in his mind’s eye, which only draws his high out for even longer.

princess rain ♡: fucking hell.

princess rain ♡: darling.

princess rain ♡: my baby boy.

Dewdrop lets out an audible whine.

princess rain ♡: you said you were going to sleep

sundew ♡: thought you said the same thing

princess rain ♡: don’t avoid the question

sundew ♡: didn’t ask me a question

princess rain ♡: brat.

sundew ♡: thanks!

He throws the phone down again and turns his attention back to grinding against the vibe. He groans loudly at the feeling of friction against his dick coupled with the steady vibrations the toy is letting off. He’s so terribly, awfully, wonderfully overstimulated but he can’t find it in himself to stop; it all feels too good. It’s almost as if he’s constantly teetering on the edge of another orgasm and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to last before he either turns into a dripping wet pile of cum and brain soup, or he passes out from how fucking intense it all is. He doesn’t think he minds either way.

aaaand that's it :) if you liked it and/or want more, please feel free to yell at me to finish it, haha!

[a-deceived-pigeon]

3/20/23

It was prom night. Or more accurately, prom night had just ended, the electrical buzz of excitement and the booming of the music fading into the background of the students’ consciousness, slowly being replaced by the comparatively calm melodies of the late night.

Almost all the kids in one friend group had gone home, either dropped off, picked up, or had driven themselves home.

Two remained, waiting in the driveway of their friend. One wore a vibrant red dress, shoulders exposed with a slit running high up the left leg. She wore a grey felt long coat.

The other wore a dark blue dress, sleeveless and flowing with a delicate tulle from waist to feet. A floral, lacey top portion was separated from the rest of the dress by a band of tulle which gave the dress an extra detail that drew the eye. A matching scarf seemed to have been abandoned earlier in the night and this girl did not have a coat.

These kids were Laurel and Amari, respectively, standing in the chilly night air waiting for Amari’s ride home. Laurel had her own car but wanted to make sure Amari was picked up safely first, and that she had company until then.

They chatted a bit but mostly stood in silence. At some point, Laurel glanced over at Amari, noticing her holding her arms in a bundle.

“Are you cold? Here. Wear this.”

Amari jumped to decline the offer, “Oh no, it’s okay! I’m good!”

But Laurel was already slipping the coat from her shoulders, insisting, “No please use it. I don’t get cold easily anyway,” she added with a smile.

Amari hesitantly but thankfully took the coat, accepting Laurel’s offer as she swung the coat around her own shoulders.

They continued to stand and wait. Perhaps it had been as much as 30 minutes, certainly longer than either had originally anticipated when Laurel had an idea.

“Wait. Why don’t we… just wait in my car?”

They turned and looked at each other for a moment of silence, blank disbelief that neither had thought of the idea before, before breaking out in chuckles.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe we hadn’t thought of that!” Amari blurted out as they both walked quickly toward the more sheltered car that was sitting right there.

“I know, right?!” Laurel just as incredulously blurted out.

They both huddled into the white Prius and Laurel got it turned on, pressing the power button and cranking up the heat.

They sat there going back and forth with “Oh my gosh”es at the obvious solution that neither had even considered til then, cracking up at their own ignorance at such a fantastically fitting idea. It wasn’t even two minutes before Amari’s ride pulled up. Amari got out, bidding Laurel a good night as she carefully slid off Laurel’s coat into the passenger’s side chair she had just been sitting in. She ran up to her ride and waved goodbye, shouting goodnight to Laurel and wishing her to drive safely. Laurel returned the gesture, shouting goodnight and wishing the same safety.

With that, Laurel proudly took off her heels that she had resolved to herself that she would wear the entire night. She rolled down her window and drove back home, barefooted, in silence, tired but contented at the night, and slightly amused.

So wonderfully amused,

~Nico

Hello hello! This is directly taken from a favorite memory my junior year of high school. I still can’t get over how neither of us throughout that time of waiting had thought to just wait in the car. Honestly, I can’t remember who proposed the idea so it can go either way! Looking back, I also think I could have just offered to take her home myself. Maybe that idea was proposed? And maybe there was a reason this wouldn’t have worked? Or maybe we just both thought her ride was coming very soon and didn’t think too much of it. All in all, all that mattered was that eventually we both got home safely and got a fun little memory to take from that night :)

[sprinklesselfships]

[SCHEDULED]

Valentine's Fic 1: Starcrossed

When heading out for a Valentine's Day date with Silver Spoon, Crescent runs into someone entirely new - but that doesn't negate the events that follow at all...

{Be wary of the read more! It... is actually pretty long, wow.}

It was a bit hard for Crescent to exactly feel pressured about what was currently unfolding. Her steps were light and there were no traces of upset or disturbances in her breathing. In a case like this, she had to remain composed.

The scenario itself was very basic - it was the night of Valentine's Day, and she and Silver Spoon had agreed to going out for the evening. As couples do.

Though… Crescent had her hunches, primarily since Silver Spoon had left to go and do something, with her then finding an odd kind of… card on her desk prior to setting out herself. But Crescent was Crescent, so she wouldn’t call anything out.

As she arrived at where this curious card had instructed her to go, she simply waited with her own gifts in a bag. Giving it a few minutes, an all too familiar voice came to her attention.

“Ah… looks like we’ve been able to meet. Quite fortunate, hm?”

Crescent wasn’t all too stupid as she turned around, seeing Silver Spoon in an almost magician-like attire to him. But she knew him… he struggled with big acts of affection when he was in the open. Not to mention he looked rather charming in this fashion.

So she went along with it.

“Yes, I agree with you. So… what exactly brought you to get me here?”

“Oh, simply a request from a friend of mine. He had intentions to be with you tonight, but something turned up at the last second. As such, I shall be your companion for the night.”

“Something turned up…? Ah, that’s okay. I’ll accept your invitation. I’m sure we can make up for this with some extra intimacy tomorrow.”

Since he couldn’t tell Crescent was seeing right through his facade, Silver Spoon was absolutely buzzing with excitement from the inside. She’d ask for that, just because ‘he’ wasn’t able to be here tonight?

Ah, this plan was flawless!

So he quickly pulled himself together, starting to walk off in a direction and indicating for Crescent to follow him. She did so contently, understanding exactly what the intentions were of who was behind this appearance.

“Oh, but I should make myself known by an actual name for the evening. You can refer to me as, erm… Starcross. Y-Yes.”

“Well, I think that suits you wonderfully.”

As ‘Starcross’ and Crescent walked along the quiet path they had chosen to, it was hard for either of the pair to hide any emotions. It was just a smooth, gentle kind of feeling while their own individual thoughts existed.

Crescent was already very happy to be out on such a peaceful walk that was illuminated via the clear skies on this night. She considered this a very content and warm experience, one that the Crescent of the past used to repeat - just minus the company.

Silver Spoon was also just as happy. Even under such a fancy facade, he had intentions to spend this night with Crescent in a way he could be open and happy. His most true self, in public… he reckoned it would never happen.

It just made him realise how utterly warm and bouncy Crescent really made him feel on the inside of his formal, anxiety riddled self. So much so that he didn’t notice her squeezing his arm to get his attention.

And she was offering some kind of… treat in her hand.

“Sorry. I noticed there was this stall selling these things… they’re like little pancakes, but they’re shaped like balls and all decorated. Do you want any?”

Silver Spoon couldn’t not be absolutely entranced by this idea. Gah, he loved sweetness… but what if his illusion fell through his excitement? He’d surely freak out, and everything would go down horribly.

So he used as much of his restraint as possible to not accept it in a frantic rush, instead taking his portion with patience and a calm fashion.

“It looks like a worthy purchase. Do you think there’s anywhere to sit down?”

“Let me look… ah, yeah! There’s a fountain just there, with rails so you won’t fall in if you sit on the edge. Let’s go there.”

Crescent and Silver Spoon had sat on the edge of said fountain, both very happily enjoying what had been purchased. This was already an absolutely perfect Valentine's Day… and now he had to finish this off perfectly, since he knew Crescent probably wished to be more affectionate at home.

So he plucked what confidence was in his disguised self, held it as close to his heart as possible, and then started to speak again.

“So, ah… Crescent, was it? I… believe I have a question on your partner’s behalf.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

“Well… he wanted to ask… will- WAIT!”

Crescent didn’t get the sudden stop until she was totally pushed to the ground, watching ‘Starcross’ get absolutely drenched by a sudden jet of water. Which, as such, totally ruined his disguise.

This was one of those fountains that sprayed water on the hour…

Crescent quickly lifted the now exposed Silver Spoon up, as he had a dazed and distressed look on his face. Yet to her internal relief, he simply took a few seconds to let the scenario settle and sink in…

…

And then he laughed at such a humiliation.

“Aha… I suppose something had to go wrong, right?”

Crescent found herself laughing too. She knew why Silver Spoon wasn’t panicking, that was because he had adjusted to being himself in the way that he had done. So even being soaked wasn’t a problem for him.

“I guess so… but Starcross or not, you’re still the charming Silver Spoon I know.”

His face went sparkly at her remark, as well as a strong blush accompanying said sparkle. Crescent was usually always the one to get flustered by him, not the other way around! But he was still very happy, so he stood back up again and then sat back on the fountain’s edge.

“Anyway… may I say what I wished to?”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, Crescent… will you and I make a promise?”

Silver Spoon had quickly intertwined his own hands with that of his lover, sighing softly.

“A promise that… we’ll stay precisely as we are. And not need to change for anything that exists in the world. Nothing more than two lovers, who never wish to cross that line which many do… Can we do that?”

His response was Crescent squishing his own hands in a happy, tearful fashion.

“We can.”

The pair willingly shared a warm, starlit embrace by that fountain as they solidified that promise there and then. Silver Spoon made a perfect point… neither of the pair wanted to go past the line of lovers. Never anything more, and that was okay.

A moment like such made the Valentine's Day feel that extra tinge more shiny and sparkly.

One that was only enhanced by Silver Spoon suddenly feeling a lot warmer and… fluffier. He re-opened his eyes from the embrace’s almost entrancing peace, finding that Crescent had presented her gift to him very sneakily.

A warm, navy blue coat adorned in almost snow-white fur had been gifted to him, also having a more azure blue cape trailing off of it at the same time. After acknowledging this, Silver Spoon simply smiled wider and calmer.

“...Do you think this has been a good Valentine's Day, Silver Spoon?”

“Absolutely… I’ve spent it with someone so dear to me, so this has been a perfect Valentine's Day. I both thank and love you for this, Crescent.”

“Same… I really feel the same as well, Silver Spoon.”

[svfttachi]

𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀 | 𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐇𝐀 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈

SYNOPSIS: Birthdays were special for you, especially if it's your husband's birthday. One of the most deserving people should get a special party which may not mean a lot to others, but to him, it will be worth a lot. So, today you decided to go all out for him and his growing child.

PAIRING: Uchiha Itachi x Fem!reader

WARNING(S): Mentions/Descriptions of Pregnancy

TYPE: Modern AU, Fluff, Fluff, FLUFF!

WORD COUNT: 4297

NOTES: Oh my goodness, this made my fingers hurt countless times, but was I falling apart because of how cute this is? Yes... yes I was, and I'm glad I get to share the cuteness with you all on Itachi's day.

WARM stomach rubs helped you sleep wonderfully during the night despite the gentle, yet harsh, kicks hitting the inner walls of your abdominal cavity. Rough, calloused knuckles felt smooth and soft on the skin of your cheek. The glow shining on your face and skin could very much be a part of the pregnancy or it could be coming from the rays of light that passed through the sheer, beige curtains covering the small window in the room, but either way, you looked amazing and felt the best throughout this journey.

You were awake for quite some time now as you wanted to revel in all that was happening in front of your very eyes. Itachi laid directly next to you with no mind to leaving even a slither of space between the two of you. His arms wrapped generously around your waist where a hand resting on your stomach bump, and his head laid underneath your head and rested on your shoulder. Soft snores escaped from his parted mouth, and you couldn’t even blame him for drooling a little over your clothed shoulder since he looked so peaceful lying there with you in his arms.

Itachi was known for not getting enough sleep and letting his insomnia dominate his mind, preventing him from even getting a whiff of rest. However, last night was different. The usual exhaustion coursed through his body and his muscles ached more than ever, but what had finally allowed his mind to get the necessary sleep he strived for was the party that was happening inside of your body. The baby was usually dormant and had rarely moved around, but it was like the small child knew of your husband’s desire to get a full night’s rest in which they decided to start moving around, kicking and bashing within you. A call of attention may have been what inspired the sudden movements, but as soon as Itachi laid next to you last night and rested his palm against your stomach, a sudden sense of euphoria rode into his mind, bringing about one of his rare, delicate smiles into the picture.

Now, you didn’t even want to move in the event that if you did, he would automatically stir awake and refuse to go back to sleep even if you attempted to persuade him. But in spite of that, your phone began to buzz and vibrate against the nightstand next to you, prompting you to carefully stretch your arm to grab hold of it. With Sasuke’s name displayed across the screen, you slid the slider with your thumb and pressed the cold glass screen against your warm ear.

“Naruto and I are headed to the bakery—”

“No! Don’t you both dare to go anywhere near there. I thought I told you to tell Sakura to handle the cake. For all I know, you two would either get the wrong cake or drop it in the street,” you muttered, keeping your voice low enough to prevent Itachi from hearing. Needless to say, he was in a deep enough sleep to air out whatever sounds were coming from the phone, so you didn’t really need to worry, thankfully. “Naruto is insisting that we handle the cake, and I couldn’t care less about who does it,” Sasuke mumbled irritatedly from the other end of the call.

“No means no. Go tell Sakura to get the cake, and you two go back to what I told you to do and that was to gather the decorations like balloons, the banner, and plates and utensils. Please, Sasuke… this is an important day for Itachi, and I don’t want it to go to waste,” you calmly replied. A sigh erupted from the other end of the phone, and you couldn’t see it yet you knew Sasuke was nodding in acknowledgement, “Alright. I’ll manage to contain Naruto.”

After thanking your brother-in-law, you ended the call just in time as you began to feel the mattress shift. You set your phone aside and looked down to find Itachi fixing his position on the bed, so he was now resting his head on your pillow and loosely hanging onto your waist, still in a deep and undisturbed slumber. Taking the new and open opportunity, you carefully moved Itachi’s arms away from your waist and laid them on the empty spot you once occupied. You brought the blanket higher up on his body, tucking him in gently. Taking one more look at his calm, peaceful, and sleepy face, you slid your swollen feet into your comfy and fluffy slippers before heading out of the room. You closed the door behind you, carefully, so it did not make a single creaking sound as you closed it.

Immediately, you rushed to the hall closet where you kept all of the miscellaneous products and objects and began digging through boxes to see if there were any decorations you could put up whilst you waited for Naruto and Sasuke to arrive. As you were seated on the couch in the living room and sifting through one of the boxes, there was a light knock against the front door of your small shared home, specifically with three hits on the wooden door. Recognizing the signal, you got up from your spot on the couch and sped to the front door, opening it hastily and smiling at the silver haired man towering above you.

“He’s still sleeping, but come in. Did you get the results?” you asked as you stepped to the side to allow Kakashi into the house. He took his sandals off and set them down on the shoe stand. Kakashi pulled out a small envelope from his jacket pocket and held it up, in between his index and middle finger with a smile carved into the black mask that covered half of his face. “Yep, and I already told the bakers for the cake, so everything is set for the reveal,” Kakashi replied, turning on his heels and walking to the couch in the living room, “What are you working on here?”

“Just seeing if there are any extra decorations I can find,” you responded, following the tall, silver haired man into your living room. Kakashi immediately turned to face you, shaking his head and grasping your wrist. “You need to be resting. I simply cannot let you be up and about working in a way where you or the baby can get hurt,” Kakashi spoke with a caring, slightly irritated, tone. He sat you down on the couch and removed the box you were looking through away from your sight.

“Oh, come on, Kakashi. It’s nothing, and you are severely underestimating my strength. I just had a good night’s sleep, and I’m ready to decorate this entire room with the others. I want it to be the best possible day for Itachi, you know that,” you explained, standing up from the couch. Kakashi sighed as he watched you sit on the floor and go through the box once more. “Promise me you won’t exhaust yourself over this. That’s what you have the rest of us here for,” Kakashi spoke sharply, sitting on the other side of the box. You smiled at the masked man and nodded your head before the two of you continued to collectively obtain decorations.

Kakashi and you spent, at most, an hour going through old, torn up boxes in an attempt to scour for more decorations, and in the end, you came up with a couple of things including some multicolored balloons, streamers, and a small banner with the word Congratulations on it. You handed some of the balloons to Kakashi who had let his mask hang around his neck to be able to physically fill the balloons with air before tying them off. In the midst of preparing the balloons, Kakashi would start a game where you’d need to keep the balloon off of the ground, and the two of you were heavily competitive over such a fun, mindless game. After Kakashi lost one of the rounds, you called it a day and stood up, beginning to head to the kitchen to prepare the big feast of lunch you were inspired to create.

As you were making the delicious food for the amount of guests you were going to invite, the door was knocked upon with the same signal Kakashi gave prior, and before you could go to the door, Kakashi was one step ahead of you in answering it.

“Let’s get this party start—”

Sasuke immediately pressed a hand against Naruto’s mouth to block out his loud voice from escaping which would have possibly made Itachi wake up. “Would you shut up or do I have to explain everything again?” Sasuke grumbled, furrowing his brows at his blonde haired best friend. Naruto nodded his head, allowing Sasuke to retract his hand and wipe away whatever germs climbed onto the palm of it with a disgusted look on his face.

Kakashi guided the two boys to where you were, in the kitchen, and your eyes made contact with the large balloons the two managed to get. There were multiple balloons with differing pinks and blues in the mix along with baby themed words written across them. Naruto had a couple of shopping bags hanging from his arms filled with decorations of the same varying colors.

“Y/N, we got the banner, the balloons, and some hanging decorations, but Sakura is running a little late on the cake,” Sasuke informed you to which you nodded your head in understanding. “There’s a ladder in the garage, and I want all of you to decorate the kitchen and living room. I still have to finish preparing all of the food, but I’ll join you as soon as I’m done,” you responded with a smile.

Kakashi, Sasuke, and Naruto got down to business in decorating, intensely. You couldn’t help yourself from giggling here and there whenever there was a sudden commotion in the midst of decorating, specifically between Naruto and Sasuke. As you were placing some trays of food in the oven to keep warm, you heard a soft call of your name muffling from the hallway, making your ears perk up.

Quickly, you wiped your hands with a dish towel and headed down the hallway, arriving at the bedroom. You opened the door and widened your eyes a little when you spotted Itachi yawning and stretching his arms in the air in the middle of the bed. His tired eyes opened welcomed with a tired smile etched on his face. “You really let me sleep in… are you cooking something?” he asked when he caught a whiff of the food you were making from your clothes as you approached him on the bed. A smile climbed on your own face when you made eye contact with Itachi, bringing about a wave of confusion in your husband. “Happy birthday ‘Tachi,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

Itachi shook with a chuckle escaping his mouth and reciprocated the hug by bringing a single arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to him. He leaned over to press a kiss onto the top of your head and stilled there, taking in the intoxicating scent of the shampoo you used last night before heading for bed. “Thank you, love. Whatever you are cooking smells really good,” Itachi whispered, allowing the calm atmosphere to collect.

“Stay here, I’ll bring you a quick bite since you’ll need your appetite for lunch, soon,” you whispered back, looking up at the tired man you loved. Itachi nodded and closed the gap in between your faces by planting a soft, quick kiss to your lips. You escaped his warm arms and got off of the bed, grabbing your phone from the nightstand before leaving the room.

Once the door was shut behind you, you sped into the living room, catching everyone’s attention, “Itachi’s awake, so we’re going to have to be fast and quiet, got it? That means no arguing… I’m looking at you, Sasuke and Naruto.” The boys whose names were mentioned had mixed reactions, but nonetheless, they went back to putting up decorations with Itachi.

Hurriedly, you stepped into the kitchen and began dialing Sakura’s number through the contacts on your phone. As soon as it began ringing, you pressed the phone against your ear and checked on the trays of food in the oven whilst you waited. The call was picked up and you were greeted with Sakura’s cheery voice, “Yes, yes, I got the cake, Y/N. Sorry! There was a huge line at the bakery, but I’m on my way now with Hinata!”

“Be quick about it, please. Itachi’s awake now, and it’s only a matter of time before he suspects something happening,” you said, going to the fridge to grab something to eat for Itachi. “Copy that, Y/N!” Sakura exclaimed before ending the call.

With a tiny snack in the form of a bowl of grapes, you closed the fridge and headed back to your shared bedroom. Upon entering, you found Itachi scrolling through his phone, but he looked up at the sound of your light footsteps entering the room. He tossed his phone beside him on the bed and trailed his eyes down to the bowl of grapes you were bringing to him. “Sorry, it’s the best I can do since the food is taking time to make,” you apologized, handing Itachi the grapes. Itachi tore one of the grapes off of the bundle and popped it in his mouth, allowing the juiciness to explode in his mouth. “No worries, love. This is nutritional,” Itachi muffled through his chewing.

“Good… good, I’m going back outside now, so enjoy your grapes,” you awkwardly announced. You didn’t wait for a response from the man as you exited the room, shutting the door behind you.

It was only a matter of time until Sakura and Hinata arrived with the delectable cake in a box in their hands. You set up the cake on a crystal cake stand in the middle of the island counter in the kitchen. The cake was a simple, small, circular cake with a marble design embedded in the frosting all along the sides in an explosion of pastel pink and blue colors. Little pieces of fondant were shaped into clouds and stars, sticking up from the top of the cake. The cutest part of the cake was the small and cute, fondant elephant in the center of the top.

“You did a good job with designing this cake, Sakura. It looks way too cute, thank you so much,” you said excitedly, rushing to get the pink haired girl a quick hug. Sakura giggled at your response and scratched the back of her head, “Anything for my future sister-in-law.”

Now that the decorations, the cake, and the food were all prepared, you walked off to quickly get ready with the dress you stashed in the guest bedroom. The dress was a mix of pastel pink and blue sprinkled with white flowers all around it, and the length reached down to your calves. It perfectly suited your body shape, enunciating the curve of your stomach. Once your hair and makeup was all done and you felt comfortable with your look, you left the guest bedroom and instructed the many guests, who had arrived in the meantime, to hide themselves and dim the lights.

Dimming the lights left the entire living room and kitchen area enclosed in a sudden darkness, perfect for hiding all of the preparations you made for this party. You walked down the hallway and entered your bedroom. A small chuckle left your mouth when you found Itachi lying back on the bed taking a quick nap with his body on your side of the bed. Carefully, you walked over to Itachi and lightly shook him to wake him up. Your husband jolted awake and propped himself on one elbow, but his squinted and tired eyes widened when he came face to face with the attire you dressed up in, especially with how prominent your stomach looked with the fabric encasing it.

“Y—You look amazing, Y/N,” Itachi let out as he sat up completely to take in your full appearance. You held onto his hand and guided him to your shared closet. “Thank you, ‘Tachi. Now, make yourself look good cause I’ve got something to show you,” you replied, smiling at the confused looking Uchiha.

Itachi nodded and completely froze when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. With you out of the room now, it allowed Itachi to blush profusely, and it wasn’t usual for him to act like this whenever you kissed him randomly. But seeing you all dressed up on his special day made him feel all the love he saved for you as if it was the first time he admitted he was in love from way back when. Shaking his head to have him focus again, Itachi changed into a casual attire consisting of a dark blue shirt slightly tucked into a pair of light denim jeans. He tied his hair back in a low ponytail, allowing wisps of his bangs to escape and frame his face. Once he was all done getting ready, Itachi walked out of the bedroom, finding himself in nothing but darkness which made him crease his brows. “Y/N?” he called out. He didn’t calm down the sudden anxious feelings until he felt the familiar softness of your hands hold onto his wrists, “Why is it so dark?”

“Just wait, silly!” you exclaimed.

You led your confused husband to the living room and kitchen area, making Itachi stand there for a bit to add in the effect of the surprise that was about to unfold. Lights turned on, and every one of the guests you invited jumped up from their hiding spots, shouting Surprise simultaneously along with a collection of party poppers and the loud sounds of noise blowers rising in the air. Itachi had performed a little hop of shock and practically crushed your hand from the sudden sounds he was trying to comprehend, but once he understood what was going on, a light chuckle escaped from his mouth.

The first one to come up to Itachi was his very own little brother to congratulate him separately, and from there, everyone congratulated your husband, one by one which let you make sure all the food and the cake was set up properly. Itachi looked around the place he called home and let all of the decorations settle within his mind, bringing up one of those rare smiles you loved to see.

“You did all of this… for me?” Itachi asked, joining you in the kitchen. You watched his eyes widen at the sight of the cake and baby themed decorations in the kitchen. Giggling, you nodded and hooked your arm with his, bringing him closer to you where you stood in front of the cake. “I—Is this… what I think it is?” Itachi questioned with a shaky voice.

Anytime the baby that was growing within you was mentioned or talked about in gatherings, it always made Itachi feel excited and ready for the moment he would be able to hold the little one in his arms. Seeing all of these decorations and the cake made him wonder if the two of you were going to have a boy or girl, and it didn’t even matter which one would come into the world as long as he got to call a human being his child.

“Shall we find out?” you said, picking up a knife in the process. Everyone circled around the kitchen island, anticipating the moment they got a chance to see the color of the cake within to signify which gender your baby was. Itachi intensely watched you push the knife into the cake, creating a nice and clean cut. You pressed the knife into the cake again to make a slice and were handed a plate to put it into. Tears began to well in your eyes at the amount of joy that heightened inside of you at the sight of the cake layers sitting neatly there. Itachi quickly pulled you into a hug and pressed a warm and gentle kiss to your head, rather clinging to you tightly at the news. “We’re having a girl,” you mumbled against his chest in the midst of the excitement hollering around you. Itachi looked at you and used the fabric of his shirt to wipe away your tears, showing you his smile generously.

“Woo! It’s a girl!” Naruto exclaimed loudly where his hands curved around his mouth to let the noise echo louder. Sasuke began to chase his ocean eyed best friend due to how annoyed he was growing with his mere presence, and Kakashi was quick to join them to prevent them from tearing each other apart. Itachi and you glanced over at the chaos and laughed lightly at the trio with Itachi slowly turning back to face you. His fingers came up to caress your cheek softly, running down to hook underneath your chin to lift your head to look at him.

“We’re going to be parents… to a wonderful, little girl,” Itachi choked through his sob that came out at the sight of your beautiful face.

— — —

Itachi said his goodbyes to the last guest that left and shut the door afterwards, heading back to party central. You looked up at him with a smile as you were picking up some of the trash that people left during the party. He knelt down and gently snatched the trash bag from your hands and picked up from where you left off, sweetly speaking up, “Go rest, I’ll clean up a little. I assume it’s been a long day for you.” You shook your head and attempted to take the bag back from him, but Itachi held it away from you with a stern look on his face. “I’m not too tired, ‘Tachi. Plus, it’s your birthday. You don’t need to pick up after your own party,” you pleaded.

“Nonsense. I’ll only clean up a bit here, then I’ll join you in bed,” Itachi asserted, standing up to face you entirely. He set the trash bag down on the floor and gently placed his hands behind you, leading you down the hallway. Itachi opened the door to your shared bedroom and carefully pushed you inside, “Get dressed for bed. I’ll be there in a bit. Do you need anything, babe?”

“No thank you, I’m fine,” you whispered with a yawn escaping from your mouth. Itachi nodded and chuckled a little at how cute you looked before heading out, leaving the door cracked open.

You dragged your heavy and swollen feet over to the closet and picked out what you wanted to wear to sleep, hastily getting changed. Once you performed your skin routine in the master bathroom, you walked out of the room and slid your slippers off before climbing onto your side of the bed. Just as you snuggled up underneath the covers, Itachi was entering the room whilst taking off his shirt simultaneously. The Uchiha quickly changed into his favorite pajamas and joined you in bed, immediately encasing you in his warm arms.

Resting your head against Itachi’s chest, you got to listen to the relaxing beat of his heart pumping blood throughout his body, and it was slow and calming for your ears. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies at the comfortable feeling of being snuggled up next to your husband, especially after today’s gender reveal for your baby… the baby you shared with the man you loved dearly.

Itachi pressed a couple of kisses to your head before looking down at the hand he had resting perfectly on the bump in your belly. Without any hesitation, Itachi shifted himself lower on the bed so he was face-to-face with the baby and the bump that held her. You couldn’t contain the sheer amount of happiness that exerted from the little moment you had the chance to watch. Soft kisses landed on your baby bump and continuous strokes of his hand ran along the skin that was exposed. Suddenly, you can hear soft cries coming from your husband, and that causes your heart to twist and turn with the sudden emotion rising within you. “I—I can’t wait to meet you, my baby girl. I may despise you sometimes because of what you make your mother go through, but I love you so much, so much that I will protect you from everything and anything that comes your way. Promise me that you’ll be nicer to your mother once you’re out of there because I also love her to the moon and back, thirty times,” Itachi whispered to your baby lovingly, giving you a loving glance of your own.

Silence erupted into the atmosphere of your shared room until… she kicked against the area where Itachi had his hand rested, causing him to lightly chuckle. “She loves you, too, hun,” you whispered, reaching down to comb your fingers through his freely flowing locks of raven hair. Itachi scooted back up to lay next to you, bringing the blanket over the both of you. “She loves both of us, and I love you for allowing me to experience all of this. Thank you, Y/N… for the party, the cake, the amazing birthday, our baby girl… and giving me a happy life.” Like many moments he shared with you, his dear wife, Uchiha Itachi has experienced a strong wave of euphoria that only his family or his closest friends could help him feel.

NARUTO MASTERLIST

WRITING MASTERLIST

NAVIGATION

[ask-andrew-montrose]

The water came without much of a warning…or maybe there was a warning... ?? Either way, if there had been, Montrose was already much too inebriated to have ever noticed it. And also, warnings weren't much of a pleasantry Allegra seemed to allow him. And rightfully so.

..But let's back up. He’s trying to focus. Really trying. Despite the tempting touches from Will next to him. The slight press of Will's lean body every now and then, the fretting, the giggles, the flash of green..the …just. Yeah. William was making it really hard to focus. One of Monty's hands tighten on Will's thigh underneath the table before reluctantly releasing.

He refused to let what little attention his drunk mind had left move from the opponent in front of him. And she was a very worthy opponent indeed. He noted the way she was glaring at him. The intensity of it was so…endearing. It made him…chuckle with affection.

He didn't know if it was the shots, or her fierce determination, but he matches every one of her glares with a dirty look of his own. It’s like she doesn’t even know they are speaking the same language!!! He’s almost giddy with the thought of it.

Until he looks up…seeing the jug VERY MUCH not anywhere near William... and then it tips. The liquid soaks him through, until the LOVELY AND REFRESHING shower finally ends, and he can blink flatly at Allegra, moisture dripping from his hair, now flat against his face.

He doesn’t move for a moment. All muscles are, more or less, frozen with shock.

It's almost as if he does not believe a jug of water could have been dumped on his precious, and gorgeous, head.

He uses his tongue to lick the drops of water that drip from his soaked hair to his lips, seeing that they are in fact real. He stubbornly brushes his hair out of his face with a huff, setting his eyes on her. Fully intent on revenge was an understatement.

“Aim? Allegra, dear. If you ever need help with aim you just let me know.” 

He leans over the table, slightly wincing. Why are there two of her? Who cares. 

Both Allegra’s will get revenge.

He clumsily shakes his hair entirely in her direction until the flecks of water hit her just slightly. 

“See? Didn’t miss you at all. Not you...or the double you...anyhow…” 

He drawls, until his head drunkenly swings back over to Will, his forehead clumsily banging against Will's as he laughs.

“You on the other hand…..” He is so giddy off of the drinks AND the way Will looks, his eyes full of warmth, affection, and red wine. Montrose thumbs a finger along Will’s lower lip as he loudly confesses, “...I miss YOU…all the time.”

Before giving Will time to respond to his slip of truth, he gives Will's hand a cheeky squeeze and whispers “But ‘The audacity.... Couldn’t you do so much better?’” He mockingly repeats words said much earlier between them, tapping Will’s chin. He shakily gets up, looking as flush and clumsy as a newborn colt.

From where Allegra is still giving him looks of …suspicion and mischief (?), he saunters over. This time he scoots next to her seat at the table, giving her a sideways grin. He's not done yet. One mischievous devil meeting the other head on, and too happy (and drunk) to do so.

“You know what though? I think I’m in the mood to share some MORE of this love you so wonderfully SHOWERED me with...”

He does it quickly, because if it's any slower Allegra might kill him, he risks it all and envelops her in a hug.

It is…..almost as if the bar goes silent. Or maybe it’s just Andrew’s survival skills warning him that the end is near.

He releases Allegra quickly, with some remorse, before shouting:

“Wrennifer!” He calls out (obnoxiously) at behest of Wren’s shout into the crowd for requests after her amazing performance. Even a drunk Andrew can’t deny the life that buzzed through the inn from her playing. 

He laughs, clumsily, annoyingly, yet shouts out anyway: “I have a request!! I request that Sebastian Sallow stand up and give us a show! Since He ..so likes to show off…"

But...incase THAT doesn't happen... Andrew's mind is already working overtime. He grasps the bottom of his soaked shirt, lifting it up as if….

“MONTROSE STOP FLASHING OUR FRIENDS.”

Theo's panicked voice darts from the second story, but it's already too late!!

What were in those shots Allegra gave him? 

If Sebastian wouldn’t give them a show… Andrew would. 

He jumps on top of the bar. His shirt completely off now as he swings it around the top of his head. 

A drunk Mongoose is a silly Mongoose indeed.

A Badger, a Snake, and an Eagle Walk Into a Bar

Theo was in the business of chaos this weekend, rather more so than usual. After all, when she was in such colorful company ...how would that not be the case?

She finds @adallegra and @ask-wren-zhang waiting for her by the North Exit, deciding to not announce herself but tackle them both from behind.

"Evening, duckies. Shall we?"

She loops her arms in both of theirs, linking them all with a tug towards Hogsmeade. The night air is cool and clear, much unlike their intentions for the weekend. She knew they had all been entirely too cooped up in the castle recently, and her professional opinion was that letting a little steam out seemed to be the best remedy.

Walking into the fine establishment of the Three Broomsticks was always like walking into a warm hug that may end up setting you on your behind by the end of the night, but was a welcome sight all the same.

The fire was roaring, there was a band already playing in the corner, and it looked like Sirona was behind the bar for the time being. The night was off to a good start with the conversations of various witches and wizards already starting to pick up in a cheery buzz.

Theo looks to Allegra and Wren, with one simple declaration to start.

"First round's on me!"

[btsxmalereaders]

☆ Even in zero gravity, I would still fall for you!

♡ pairing — bang chan x male reader

> genre — fluff | f2l

> word count — 4.3k I don't know how this happened

> summary — chan realises he likes you by not being able to use pickup lines on you

> a/n — i saw a tiktok where chan says he's gonna use a pickup line on felix and my love-deprived self ended up writing this lol i hope you all like it

| 05282021

| Please keep making more whosfan accounts and keep streaming WOLFGANG on the correct platforms!

"Hey, how you doin'?" Chan casually says as he enters the kitchen, trying not to grin and start giggling right away. He even places his hands over the table and tilts his head a little in an attempt to look confident. Felix takes his attention away from the food he is cooking and turns on his feet to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Good?" He answers with an air of suspicion. "Why?"

Chan finally lets out a small giggle, "Oh nothing, I was just thinking that... I am not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together."

And Felix thinks it's a creative pickup line, funny even, but what ends up making him laugh is the way his best friend bends over to start laughing louder and the way his cheeks turn reddish at the embarrassment he's probably feeling.

"That was a good one, I must say," He chuckles. "Not as great as the Optimus Fine one, though. Even if it made you laugh for ten minutes after you said it."

And Chan can only laugh harder at the remembrance, placing his hands over his slightly aching abdomen and gasp for air when he can't handle it anymore. Felix giggles as well and denies with his head, going back to stir what's on the pot.

"Stays keep getting creative when it comes to flirting with you," He speaks again as the laughter finally dies down. "They probably think you might use it on someone you like, and you're here almost crying because you use them on us."

Chan hums, "Well, I don't really like anyone right now."

Felix turns off the stove and makes a -dramatic- pause, turning again to face Chan as he gets closer and squints his eyes. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Chan laughs. "Why would I lie?"

"I don't know, but I don't buy it. Maybe it's the love songs you have as drafts in your laptop."

"Ah, that doesn't mean I'm in love," He explains and takes a seat in front of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "That's why they're still drafts, though. They don't convey the feeling of being in love because I am not in love, you know?"

"Good point, but it still doesn't convince me."

"Why?" He asks again with a chuckle, a little embarrassed by the sudden interest in his - nonexistent - love life. "You know our activities barely give us time for ourselves, so it's almost impossible to have a relationship with someone. At least a formal one."

"You can still like someone and not be with them." Felix shrugs. "So spill it. Who is it?"

And Chan knows he's just messing around with him, but he can't help but feel flustered. "No one! I think so." He almost says it in a whisper; however, Felix doesn't comment on it.

"I still want to listen to those drafts," He stands up and smiles. "Why don't you show me?"

This was not the way Chan expected the conversation to go, so he hesitates a bit about his friend's request. Well, it wasn't unusual anyway, at least Changbin had heard a couple and also helped in the composition of the songs, so having someone else hear them wouldn't hurt. He might even listen to ideas on his part to improve them.

"Okay, I can do that. Next week Y/N will come to the studio and work on something, why don't you pop-up at some point and I can show you?"

Felix nods, "Sounds good! Y/N asked for help for his new album?"

"Yeah, he wants me to listen to some tracks he has been working on." He casually comments, taking his phone from his pocket and leading his attention to the device, so now Felix can't see the slight blush on his cheeks.

"Hm, I haven't seen him in a while. Why hasn't he come to the dorm lately? We should invite him."

"He has been busy with his album, that's why. If you think I leave late from the studio, that's nothing compared to him, he truly spends an ungodly amount of time there."

"So you see him often?" Felix asks with sudden interest, now being aware of how Chan's ears are tinted pink.

"You could say that, yeah. He also spends time on my studio whenever he has the chance. And vice-versa." He shrugs, not finding it odd. You two were really good friends, so it was a normal thing for you to do. "Why?"

"Nothing, I was just curious." He mischievously laughs. "So, next week, you said?"

After a quick glance at the time on your phone, you decide to stand up and stretch your body. It's been a long time since you started working, and you still have a lot to do; and on top of it all, the progress you've made tonight doesn't totally convince you, and that just meant you'd be spending more time in the studio.

As you take your phone again to read your notes, a notification pops up on the top. You weren't supposed to meet up with Chan until later, but in the new message you just received, he tells you that he's free from working on his stuff and you could go earlier if you wanted.

You decide to go; after all, it was nearly impossible for you to concentrate again, and you truly needed to know what does he think about the tracks you sent him a few days ago to finally make an advance. So you grab your laptop after making sure you've saved the changes and the cup of half-drunk coffee, walking out to the long hall and taking the elevator to an upper floor.

The soles of your shoes are dragged across the floor all the way to the studio's door, where you softly knock a couple of times before remembering you already know the password to enter. Your fingers press the buttons, entering code you know by heart at this point, and the door quickly unlocks, making Chan to look your way and greet you with a smile.

"Hey, how have you been?" He sweetly says, seeing you entering the room and placing your belongings on top of the big desk in front of you and taking a seat on the couch behind him.

"Busy. And tired." You murmur and let out a sigh. Chan immediately plays a song at a low volume and takes seat next to you.

"You're still struggling with the track you told me about?"

You nod as an answer and pout, "I am desperate. It's like, no matter how many times I rewrite the lyrics or change the beats, it still doesn't convince me at all and I hate it."

"I get it," He sighs. "But don't worry about it, I'm here to help you out."

And Chan isn't someone who breaks his promises, so the following hours are spent listening to your music, carefully reading everything you've written so far, listening to your ideas and giving you advice.

In between work, he tells you every other joke to make you laugh and feel at least a bit less stressed; and it works wonderfully since he has a long list of dad jokes that take you off guard, plus his laughter is contagious, so not laughing with him is impossible.

It's no surprise that his advice and opinions are so accurate to the point of clearing your mind and helping you out of your creative block. Chan has always been hard-working and so good with words that every time you engage him in conversations, you feel more relaxed and less burdened. No matter what situation you had a problem with, Chan would always help you find the best solution for it. Maybe that's why you admire him so much, maybe it was one of the many reasons why you didn't hesitate for a second to go to him and find security in his presence and words... Maybe it was one of the thousands of reasons why you had romantic feelings towards him...

"Is it better now?" His voice takes you out of your thoughts. He's sweetly smiling at you; he probably realized you got lost on the way his lips were moving as he told you his thoughts on the recent draft of your song.

"Yeah, yes, honestly, you've helped me so much. I don't know what I'd do without you." You smile and go for a quick hug, taking the opportunity to ruffle his hair. Your fingers sliding between his soft and messy curls and making him fondly smile in the process. "You're my hero. I mean it."

Chan chuckles and can't keep his eyes off you as you type something on your laptop and hum. He recalls the conversation he had last week with Felix, and that ambiguous feeling settling on his chest makes him wonder if, after all, his friend was right. He doesn't remember when was the last time he felt the urge to hold someone in between his arms and dearly appreciate, and he wants to know why he smiles and feels his stomach tickling when he sees you.

Maybe it's because you spend a lot of time with him, a voice inside his head says. But he doesn't feel this way with any other friend.

Maybe it's because you have known him for a long time and you just appreciate him a lot, the voice tries again. Maybe. He finally gives in at the last thought. He'd have to figure it out.

His phone buzzes inside the pocket of his jeans and he takes it, knowing for sure it's a message from Felix.

"Felix is arriving in a few minutes." He murmurs, making you take your eyes off the screen. "He wants to listen to some songs I have, is that okay?"

"Of course, it's your studio, silly." You giggle. "I am almost done with this, so if you're gonna be busy I can go back to m-"

"You can stay, if you want to." He quickly adds. "Plus, he says he wants to see you, you know... He misses you." Chan laughs. He wasn't lying, but that wasn't the only reason he wanted you to stay.

"Okay! Sure, I haven't heard from him in a while, either." You nod and keep making changes on the file you have open.

Just as he said, Felix enters the room just a few minutes later, smiling brightly and immediately running to give you a big hug once he sees you.

Soon, the room was filled with laughter and long conversations to catch up on everything around your lives. Felix tells you about the new pastries he baked last week and that he was waiting for you to come around and bake with him, the new video game Jeongin bought and has been playing with Hyunjin, the new songs Changbin and Jisung have been working on and how Seungmin was learning to play piano, playing songs at night for everyone at the dorm.

"And you know? Chan hyung has gotten better at flirting." He laughs as the latter gives him a threatening glare. "He can't stop saying pickup lines whenever he has the chance."

"Ah, really?" You chortle. "You haven't said one in all the time we've been here."

"Well, we've been working, and I've told you many other jokes... Besides, it's not like I come up with them out of nowhere."

"Yes, you do!" Felix says. "You do that all the time, what are you talking about?"

You glance at Chan, who's currently blushing and at the loss of words. Felix, on the other hand, seems to be happy to see what he just provoked. And he'd definitely enjoy every part of it.

"I want to hear one! C'mooon!" You laugh. "Please?"

Chan rolls his eyes and tries to look confident as he would normally do. He clears his throat and thinks of a good pickup line he hasn't used yet.

"Alright," He says and smiles, he even thinks it's gonna start laughing before even opening his mouth, but the very moment he looks into your eyes, it's like he forgot every single word on his vocabulary. "Uhm, are you, no. Did you-? Wait! I forgot what I was gonna say-"

Felix can't help but burst into laughter, and you only look at him, as if you couldn't believe it. Was he nervous or was it because of the fact that Felix was in the same room? Would it have been any different if he weren't there?

You end up laughing at Felix's loud laughter, as well as seeing Chan blushing up to his ears and hiding his face behind his hands, probably also in an attempt to cover the huge grin he now has.

"Wow, that was an epic failure. And I thought you were the biggest flirt on earth." Felix teases him, to which Chan ends up groaning.

He continues talking about other stuff while Chan stops feeling embarrassed, even though he's not able to look in your eyes for the entire time until you have to go back to work.

You close your laptop and stand up, throwing the now empty cup of coffee on the trash bin. After thanking Chan for his help and promising Felix you'd drop by their dorm soon, you walk out of the studio with a smile and feeling your heart beating fast. There was no way you didn't have feelings for him.

"Oh my god, so I was right!" Felix says a few seconds after you left. Chan's first instinct is to cover his face again. "Look who got nervous so suddenly."

"Stop, I- I don't even want to talk about it." He murmurs, feeling flustered and avoiding Felix's gaze. He types something on his laptop and presses the play button, hoping that this way, his friend would forget about what just happened and could focus solely on the music.

And Felix doesn't talk about it anymore. The next few minutes are set by the music coming out of the speakers; the room filling with Chan's voice, singing the love songs that probably no one else would listen to. Felix seems to be concentrating on the lyrics, but Chan's thoughts are solely about you. As he listens to the songs, he is aware of how his skin bristles every time his hands accidentally touch you, the times when your eyes connect with his and you give him smiles every time it happens, all those times when his heart would race when he hugged you.... It's as if all those songs that professed a love he said he didn't feel, started to make sense.

He feels overwhelmed. Maybe if he was aware of it before, maybe if he listened to his heart instead of his head, this wouldn't be a big revelation to him.

Chan pauses the music, and before Felix can ask what's going on, he speaks up: "Why- why did I do that?"

"Did... what, exactly?" Felix asks, confused.

"The pickup line thing!" He blurts out. "I mean, I do that all the time, right? Why did I just forget how to even talk?"

Felix giggles, "Well, have you considered it's because when you use those pickup lines on us you just do it for laughing? To joke around with us, and with Y/N it's because... I don't know, you have feelings for him and it gets real? Like you're flirting with him."

Makes sense, he thinks. He remains in silence for a moment, processing everything that just happened and finally connecting the dots.

"Wait, you just had your epiphany?" Felix jokes. "It took you too, too long."

"I can barely fall asleep, how was I supposed to know I was falling in love?"

"Fair enough." He says, comprehensive. "Are you telling him?"

"Should I?" Chan's eyes sparkle, but he still feels confused. Should he even try? It's been so long since he last felt this way about someone, and given the circumstances of his life as an idol, he felt more reluctant to take the next step. Even more, considering he had just taken the first one by accepting his feelings a few minutes ago.

"I was right all this time by you being in love," He says. "And I am also sure that it's mutual. I've seen you two for a while, you know? I am surprised you didn't come the realization way earlier than this."

Chan giggles. "Alright, I get it."

"But it's up to you now, I guess. All I know is that you deserve to be happy, and you deserve good things... And Y/N is a great person. You should give yourself an opportunity on love."

Chan feels chills as he hears those words. Tonight's even have been too much for him to process, so he'll think deeply about it later.

"Okay," He nods. "Thanks, Lix. You've been really helpful."

"I know, what would you do without me?" Felix laughs. "Now let's keep listening to the songs, I am loving all of them."

Fortunately, the help Chan gave you really made it possible for you to finish the songs in no time. You are just now walking out of a meeting with your managers and the people in charge of the release of the album to set the final details, and you quickly send a message to Chan to let him know the news.

In the meantime, you drop by your studio to clean up a little and maybe write down some ideas for new songs that have been in your mind for a while. After a few minutes, you hear a knock on the door, snapping you out of your thoughts and then feeling confused. You weren't expecting anyone to come. So you slowly open the door, and a smile spreads across your face the moment you realize it's Chan.

"Oh, hi!" You greet him with a hug, immediately letting him in afterwards. He shyly gets inside, taking a seat on a chair and placing a bag on the small table behind him. "What brings you here? I thought you were still busy with you guys upcoming album."

"It's okay, Changbin is working on his stuff now at the studio, so I took the chance to come here and celebrate with you!" He grins. "Congratulations on making your first self-produced album!"

He starts clapping, making you smile; he truly was the sweetest person you've ever met.

As soon as he read your message he went to the nearby cafeteria and bought your favorite drink and pastries, claiming that it was a special occasion and should be celebrated.

"For all your hard work and the success of this album!" He makes a toast as he raises his cup of tea.

Soon you find yourselves immersed in a long conversation about everything that went into creating this album; from when you had the first idea for the concept, to those sleepless nights when he helped you without hesitation. Chan was definitely an essential part of this whole process, so to be celebrating with him right now felt right. It was how it should be.

"You know," Chan clears his throat as another song starts playing. "These past days I've had this thought in my head, and after talking it out with Felix... I am certain about it. And I want to tell you about it. I know I have to."

You frown, feeling curiosity, especially since his semblance has changed to be a bit more serious. He still has a small smile that gives you some kind of tranquility, but another part of you can't help but feel nervous as he gets a little bit closer.

"Of course, what is it?"

"So, uhm" He starts. "Some weeks ago, when Felix came to the studio and we were talking with you... Well, the reason he came was because he wanted to listen to some love songs I've worked on. And, after listening to all of them I figured out why I didn’t like them. I was sure I wasn't in love. That's why, to me, they all sounded plain and didn’t convey the feeling of love... But then..."

He makes a pause, catching his breath as he feels more and more nervous. He knows for sure his ears and cheeks are red right now, and it's impossible that you haven't noticed it. His hands slightly shake behind the table, anxiously looking for yours, but refraining from doing it because he doesn't know how this was going to end. You don't want to interrupt him, so you give him his time to clear his head and talk again.

"While listening to those songs, the only thought I had in mind was you." He finally confesses, with his gaze now fixed on his lap. "I guess that for a while I didn’t realise that I started to, uhm, catch feelings for you. And, it's okay if you don't feel the same way about me. I just really wanted to let you know because the thought has been on my mind for so long and I needed to let it out."

For a moment, the only thing that can be heard in the room is your voice coming from the speakers along with a sigh from Chan, who still didn’t dare to look up and face you.

"So... what you're saying is..." You speak up, feeling incredibly shy, trying to process the words addressed to you.

"What I am trying to say is that I am in love with you."

And you swear you could start screaming to the top of your lungs right now, but you try your very best to stay calm and finally grab Chan's hands. With that, he looks at you again.

"Channie," You softly say, looking at him in his precious eyes and dearly smiling. You don't even know where to begin, but a voice inside you begs for you to give him a hug. So you open your arms and embrace him tightly, feeling instant comfort and love. "I am so glad you feel this way too. I love you too."

Chan sighs in relief, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you closer; his nose pressed against the crook of your neck and closes his eyes, melting between your arms and enjoying every single second of that gesture.

"Wait a minute," You say out of nowhere, so he separates a bit from you and tilts his head. "That's why you couldn't even say a sentence when you tried to say a pickup line?"

You laugh when his expression changes to look ashamed, his lips frowned in a pout and his gaze avoiding your eyes again.

"Try again, I'm sure you're good at this." And Chan's head only comes up with the dozens of lines he has read, but seeing you smiling right in front of him and your arms over his shoulders, he can only think how lucky he is. He can't possibly say anything to you. "Alright, let me try instead."

You hum and recall all the pickup lines you've read and have been told before, "Hm, can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll return it."

And you expected Chan to start laughing out loud, instead he starts blushing again and giggling, covering his face as he feels nervous.

"C'mon! Seriously?" You laugh and wait for him to stop being shy.

"You make me nervous, give me time." He excuses himself and laughs some more. "That was a good one, and you know what? You can borrow all the kisses you want, as long as you keep your word and return them."

"See? That's what I'm talking about!"

Chan fondly smiles at you, placing his hand on your head to pet your hair for a moment. You close your eyes as he does it, feeling his soft touch traveling all the way down to your chin. He rests his thumb on your cheek and after a few seconds you decide to open your eyes.

"Can I?" He murmurs as his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips.

"You don't even have to ask."

And just as you give him permission, he breaks the distance between you two. He starts carefully, placing his lips against yours in a tender, chaste way, barely there pressure that makes you exhale through your nose as if you had been holding your breath all along. One of his hands still holds you by the waist, so he takes the opportunity to slide it to your lower back, carefully holding you and sending you shivers to your entire body.

You lean forward barely a few millimeters, but it's enough to feel more pressure over your lips. Chan angles his head and traps your bottom lip, tongue trying to dart out of his mouth to taste more of the sweetness of yours. He, however, contains himself and smiles in between the kiss, instead. He was probably gonna be the death of you.

The deep kiss loses intensity as a minute passes by, so you two end up giving smaller kisses and share smiles, your noses constantly touching in skimo kisses. And you think it's perfect; it's way better than what you one day imagined.

Chan can't miss the chance to make you sit on his lap, so now your head rests over his chest. Your fingers fidgeting the hem of his hoodie and shyly longing to intertwine your hands.

"Hey, Y/N?" He grabs your attention and smiles. "Are you a parking ticket?"

You raise an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Because you've got fine written all over you." He ends up with a muffled laughter.

"Oh no, what did I just get myself into?" You joke around, this time finally making him burst into a louder laughter. "You just declared war on me about pickup lines, you know?"

"Oh, so you got some lines, too? Can't wait to hear all of them, then."

And for the rest of the day you let yourself be held in between the arms of the person you loved the most. Later you'd find the way to flirt with him and make him feel flustered when he least expects it.

[hollandsmushroom]

Cum and Cookie Dough

Synopsis: Late night sloppy and sweet encounters. 

Masterlist

Send Me A Request

Word Count: 2,841

(Not my Gif)

Your phone brought you out of your sleep, its constant buzz for the past few minutes on your night stand, reaching out. The first thing you saw was the time, in big white text it said '3 A.M.' Below that was the contact photo of your boyfriend. You swiped across, answering the call and bringing it up to your ear.

"Why are you calling at 3 a.m?" You groaned, scrubbing a fist into your eye to try and remove the sleepy fog.

"Can I come over?" Cals shockingly perky voice responded.

"I mean, I guess, I'm fucking tired though, and I look terrible, why do you wanna come over?"

"I just wanna see my baby, is that illegal? And I'm sure you look stunning" You mumbled a no in response to the first question, although it was rhetorical, a blush spreading on your cheeks at the compliment. You listened to the silence before You heard a door click closed in the background of the call, alerting you to the fact that he was already getting in his car. "Can we bake cookies?"

"Sure, I'll get the stuff ready" you mumbled, pulling back the covers and shaking your head, trying to wake yourself up. "I'll see you when you get here, love you, bubba" you hummed

"I love you too, Bubbaloo" he responded in a sing-song voice before hanging up.

Your bare feet slid against the cool hard wood, sending a shiver up your body causing goosebumps to spread on your skin, you suddenly missed the comfort of your bed but you were excited to see your boy in a couple minutes.

Stepping into your kitchen you opened the cabinets, grabbing the ingredients for gooey chocolate chip cookies and setting them out on the counter and setting the oven to preheat. You put the kettle on to boil, digging through your cabinets to find your most caffeinated tea, knowing how Cal was and that you were not going to sleep for a long time. As you waited for the water to boil you started to doze off where you stood.

The click off of the kettle brings you back to the world, tearing the tea sachet open and putting it in the cup, pouring the boiling water over it tugging on the tab, watching as the water changed to a darker color as it sloshed softly at the side of the mug.

The sound of knuckles on wood made its way to your ears, shaking your head to perk yourself up again as you reached to the door handle, flipping the lock and opening the door, on the other side stood your boyfriend, loose sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a plain black tee shirt gracing his toned torso. You were wearing one of his shirts that you had stolen months ago and a small pair of sleep shorts, nothing underneath either piece. His soft chocolate eyes drank in your appearance before stepping over the threshold and engulfing you in his muscular arms. His lips met yours messily, sleep evident in both your beings. He pulled back, breath fanning across your face, brushing the hair out of your eyes.

"I've never seen anything more beautiful," he mumbled making you smile and giggle softly holding him close. The oven beeps from the kitchen alerting you to the fact it was now preheated.

"Ooh, the oven is ready!" He spoke excitedly, pulling your hand and guiding you to the kitchen.

"Here is the recipe," you giggled at his childlike demeanor, handing him the cookbook that you had set out earlier. The two of you began to bake, you chose to measure the ingredients because you didn’t trust him to do it right and him sifting them altogether in the bowl. When it came time to mix the wet ingredients in with the dry you put your hands in the bowl as Cal chose to stand behind you, hands slipping under your shirt and cupping your breasts as you worked. You moaned softly at his cold rings on your hot flesh, but the moan got louder as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers, lips going to your neck and sucking gently at the skin, you knew that he was going to leave marks but you were enjoying it too much to tell him to stop. You felt his teeth scrape over the marks he had just made as you started to form the dough into balls and place them on the baking sheet. 

“Cal” you groaned as his hand slid down your body and into the front of your short, dipping the calloused tips of his fingers into your rapidly dampening heat, he began to rub slow circles on your clit, your knees buckled under you as you gripped the counter, but Cal took your hand, sucking your fingers clean of all the cookie dough, his mouth was warm and wet, his teeth gently bumping into your knuckles, a slight pain rapidly soothed but the gentle suck of his mouth. You imagined it must be how his cock feels in your mouth. He took your fingers from your mouth, his lips returning to your neck, biting your earlobe. 

“You gonna cum? You gonna cum on nothing as my fingers grind your clit, let it drip down your leg?” 

“Fuck, Cal!” you screamed, as he ground his bulge into your ass, sucking harshly on your sweet spot and moving faster against your clit, your orgasm rapidly building. “Cal, more” you needed just a little more to send you over the edge and he immediately obliged, his free hand sneaking back underneath your shirt and tuggin on your nippled, rolling it between his fingertips and that was it for you, you came with a scream, your fingers gripping on to the counter as your legs shook, Cals hand between your thighs held you up as your legs couldn’t. Your abs clenched, body lurching slightly forward as his rough fingers kept you at a high for longer than you thought you could. 

“Cal, fuck, Cal” you spat out as you finally came down from your high, your breath coming in pants. Cal took his fingers from your pussy, they glistened with arousal in the low kitchen light, catching your eye, you watched his movements intensely.  He reached for the cookie dough bowl, scooping the final bit of leftover dough onto his two fingers and splitting them apart, cum and cookie dough on each finger. He brought one finger to his own mouth, sucking it clean and releasing a satisfied noise before offering you his other finger which you gladly accepted. It tasted of chocolate and sugar but there was the slight tang of your cum mixed in with the uncooked ingredients. 

You turned around in Cal’s arms, looking him in the eye as you felt his dick press against you, you felt the need to have him, nearly insatiable, the way his pubes tickled the tip of your nose and how soft he felt in your mouth. You held up a finger, signalling him to give you a moment as you slipped from his grasp. Grabbing the baking sheets and placing them in the intensely hot oven before turning back to your wonderfully horny boyfriend who had jumped up and was now sitting on the counter, legs spread and bulge evident as his eyes devoured every inch of you, the rapidly darkening marks on your neck that he had given you, the glisten on your thighs from where you had began to drip, god it all made him want you more. You positioned yourself between his thighs, nails scraping along his sweatpants covered thighs as you got nearer his cock. You looked up at him from between his thighs, eyeing his lip caught between his teeth, holding in moans that built in his throat. You stood up, his face covered with confusion as you tugged his lip from between his teeth. 

“I wanna hear you moan, baby” you whisper, your eyes boring into his, leaning in to kiss him gently, eyelids fluttering closed as your lips meet. “Never hold back again, okay?” you hum as you fell back down so you were mouth level with his cock. You felt the heat radiating off of the warm ove, the cookies baking inside releasing a delicious smell but all you could think about was Cals cock in your mouth. You ran your hand over his bulge, a small whimper coming from the back of his throat at the tender touch. You bit him gently through the cloth, eliciting a moan from him, encouraging you to do more. You reached for his waistband hooking your fingers and pulling down, letting his cock spring free in front of you. Reaching for his hard on, you traced a gentle line up one side, following the pattern of his veins before getting to the tip, you felt as he squirmed under your touch. Without warning you took him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip before you went deeper, his tip touched the back of your throat causing you to gag, the sudden contraction of your throat around him made his hips buck upwards, cock going even further down your throat. Your fingernails dug into his hip bone as you saturated to bob your head up and down, his dick hitting the back of your throat with every downward movement. 

“Fuck, Y/n you feel so good, so fucking good,” he moaned, his head falling back and hitting the cabinet, but he didn’t care, his fingers going through your hair. You felt him twitch against your tongue, alerting you to the fact that he was close to cumming. You pulled back, wiping the built up spit from around your lips and look at Calum through your eyelashes. 

“I want you to cum in my pussy” you groaned.

“I want that as well” Calum hummed and just as he was slipping off the counter and grabbing your waist you jumped back. 

“FUCK” you screamed making Cal freakout

“What? Are you okay? What happ-”

“The cookies!” you yell grabbing the oven mits and opening the oven, a cloud of smoke exiting the oven and tainting your vision. You reached in once you could see well enough and pulled the tray of charred treats out. 

“Did you set it on fire?” Cal asked, trying to look over your shoulder. 

“No, they aren’t on fire, they are just burnt to all hell,” you mumble, greatly disappointed at your failed baking endeavor, “Also it wouldn’t have just been me who set them on fire, this” you gestured between the both of you and then to the cookies “was a team effort.” Calum laughed as you set the cookies down, turning the oven off. His hands found your waist, squeezing your hips and pulling upwards signaling for you to jump, which you did. 

“I can think of another team effort I want to do with you” he spoke, leaning into your lips.

“That wasn’t as hot as you thought it was but I love you anyway” you giggle, crashing your lips to his swollen pink ones. His hands on your ass, squeezing the supple flesh and holding you tight to his chest, he walked you both to your bedroom, never leaving from the fight between lips, teeth, and wandering hands. 

The both of you fell onto the bed, Calum hovering over you as his lips stayed on yours, fingers slipping underneath the fabric of your shirt and pulling it up to just above your breast, as soon as the mounds of flesh were uncovered he ducked his head down and took a nipple into his mouth while you finished removing your shirt, as well as awkwardly wiggling out of your shorts, while treasuring the feeling of his lips sucking your pebbled nipples. He pulled back, taking in your naked state, his cock somehow getting even harder as he took in your swollen lips, dazed eyes, and hickey covered neck. He quickly removed his pants, leaving him in just his shirt and you couldn’t help but think of Winnie to Pooh, you giggled as his eyes looked at you to as if he was asking what was funny but instead of answering you stuck your foot out, bunching the fabric between your toes and pulling upwards, effectively removing his shirt from his body. 

“I didn’t know you could do that” he mumbled as he leaned down reattaching your lips with his. 

“I am full of surprises” you mumbled against his full lips. You felt his cock press between your lips, the head teasing your entrance and a moan escaped your lips. His hips eased slowly till you were hip bone to hip bone, every inch of his cock sheathed inside of you, you could practically feel his cock pulsing against your walls as you clenched around him. 

“Fuck, baby, so warm and wet,” he groaned against the shell of you ear as he drew his hips back before pushing forward and into you again. It almost felt like it was too much, how his skin felt slick with sweat as his body gilded against yours, how hot his breath felt, how your walls stretched around him as he pulled in and out of you. You felt like you were on fire, every nerve in your body aware of his gentle touch as he continued to thrust, a familiar heat developing in the bottom of your belly, right where it met his, where your gentle flesh touched. Your toes curled as you dragged your nails down Calum’s back. 

His hands explored your body, running up and down, feeling every curve and bump of your soft body beneath him, there was exhaustion on your tongue and the faintest taste of cookie dough. He felt your nipples rub against his chest, their hardness tugging against his taught flesh as he felt muscles in his lower belly clench. 

“Baby, I’m close” he hummed, continuing to thrust in and out of you, his rate picking up ever so slightly as he felt your pussy clench around him more rapidly. 

“Cum with me, Cal,” you cried as you arched your back into his chest, your fingers tugging at the hair at the nape of Cal’s neck. You felt Cal cum within you, it felt warm and in an odd way comforting, you felt closer than you had ever been. After you had both rode out your highs Cal rolled off of you, both of you in silence as you caught your breath.

As you both lay exhausted in your bed, the smell of burnt cookies still wafting throughout your house but it mostly reeked of sex now. Reaching out you intertwined your hand with Calum’s, turning your head to look at him and finding him already looking at you. 

“Hold my hand and don’t let go” he said in nearly a whisper, squeezing your fingers between his.

“I'm going to have to go to the bathroom at some point, Cal” you giggled, his face mocking extreme hurt. 

“Why can’t you promise me forever?” he cried dramatically, pulling you into his chest and laying on leg over both of yours so you were fully engulfed in his embrace. You laughed at his dramatic antics, enjoying simply existing with him. His fingers traced up and down your back gently soothing you into a nearly asleep state. 

“Baby,” Cal whispered into your hair and you hummed in response. “We have to get ready for bed” he reminded you, pulling you up into a sitting position. You nodded your head slightly before standing up, reaching out for Cal and he grabbed your hand standing with you. You stood in front of the mirror when the dark marks on your neck caught your eye.

“CAL!!” you shouted as you spun to look at him, your hand on your neck touching the tender flesh with the tips of your fingers. 

“Yes babe?” he asked sheepishly, as though he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“How am I supposed to cover these up? There are so many of them and they are so dark!” You exclaimed, slightly exasperated but also very entertained. 

“I'm sure you will figure out a way” he spoke, wrapping his arms around you, continuing to look at your reflection in the mirror. 

“So when can I see you again?” he grinned at you through the mirror, you turned around to meet his gaze, raising your hand and covering his eyes with your palm.

“Right now.” you giggled as you pulled your hand away causing him to laugh at your childish antics. You finished brushing your teeth in silence, Calum using the toothbrush that he kept at yours, the occasional glance to one another making you both smile widely. Once you were both ready, you wandered back to your bed, the sun peeking from beneath the curtains as you finally settled down, falling asleep in each others arms right as the world began to wake up.

Hope yall enjoyed!

@major5sosstan​