#friday sauce party

[luvergirl21]

detestable...

enemies to lovers dom!hamzah x f!reader

hi everyone! i have had the most absolutely terrible writer's block recently, which is why this fic has taken so long. but i hope you enjoy regardless! please send me reqs if you have them!

summary: y/n absolutely hates hamzah, detests him, actually. until one day, when that undeniable feeling of angers burns into an even hotter flame.

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUTTING SMUT SMOT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18.

word count: 3066

You loved your life. Your home, your animals, your friends, your youtube channel, everything. There was nothing about your life that irked you. Except for one thing. Him. Hamzah. You had become friends with Mandy over two years ago, over similar interests and styles of youtube channels, and had met Hamzah about six months into your friendship with her. You had never met somebody like him before. You got along with everyone, even if they slightly pissed you off, you were able to stomach their presence and create minimal amounts of respectable small talk. But not with Hamzah. In fact, when you were first invited over to Mandy’s house for a party and heard he was going to be there, you were excited. You had seen his online presence and thought he was funny, charming, and kind, only to find out upon meeting him that the complete opposite was the truth. He was awkward, and weird, and nothing at all like you thought he would be. The two of you were unable to mesh a single comfortable conversation together and, since then, you had effectively avoided him like the plague.

The angry tension between the two of you finally exploded one Friday night. You had been invited to dinner at Mandy’s house, and you were ecstatic. You imagined your night playing out with the two of you cooking and baking delicious food, sharing some with Martin in his man-cave, then diving into the delicacies in front of a cozy fall movie. What you did not expect was Hamzah to be there.

“Hey, y/n!” Mandy said excitedly, as she opened the door and welcomed you into her home. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Oh my god,” you said, grasping her hands in yours. “You have no idea! I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” You took your shoes off before following the brunette into the kitchen. The two of you were laughing and talking until you stopped dead in the middle of the kitchen, starting out towards the living room. Two male heads were positioned together on the couch, one with straight, almost black, locks and the other with luscious, dark curls. You would recognize those curls anywhere. Shit.

You grabbed Mandy by her forearm and whispered in her ear, “I didn’t know he would be here.”

“Who?” she asked cluelessly, swiveling her head to where your wide-eyed gaze was fixated upon. “Oh, right…Hamzah. Martin and him filmed a video today and he’s not leaving until later. I’m so sorry, y/n. I really tried to get him out of the house, but he insisted on staying for dinner.” You knew that Hamzah liked to rile you up, he made it abundantly clear whenever the two of you would have a conversation.

“He just wants to piss me off,” you responded. “It’s okay. We can just ignore them and have fun.” Mandy smiled at you. The two of you began gathering items and ingredients from around the kitchen to make the dinner. You had decided on making fettuccine alfredo with broccoli and chicken over text with pumpkin cream cheese cupcakes for dessert. The two of you labored over the pasta for almost an hour, laughing and giggling over every single thing. The boys mainly kept to themselves, occasionally laughing softly at the game they were playing on the TV. You paused from stirring the cheesy sauce, simmering softly in the pan.

“You can go ahead and combine this sauce with the pasta, Mandy,” you said, nudging the brunette girl with your elbow. “I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick.” You went to the bathroom down the hall and completed your business, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. As you exited the bathroom, you ran right into a pair of broad, muscular shoulders. You look up, an apology bubbling from your lips, until you meet a pair of wide, dark eyes: Hamzah. His eyes narrow and his brow furrows. Your lips curl into a sneer, the close proximity of him causing hot, red anger to flare in your chest. The two of you attempt to get around each other, moving in sync. This annoying act continued until Hamzah’s large hands grip your waist and practically lifted you up, moving you out of his way. He continued down the hallway to the guest room without looking back, leaving you stunned into silence in the middle of the hallway. Your waist tingled lightly where his hands had touched you. The way his large hands were able to almost completely engulf your waist, followed by how effortlessly he had lifted you, caused inappropriate, unwanted thoughts to flow through your mind. You shook your head, internally scolding yourself for your rash behavior. When you reunited with Mandy in the kitchen, she gave you a confused look.

“You okay?” she asked. No doubt your silent demeanor and red face giving away some of your internal embarrassment.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded, unconvincingly.

“You sure?” she pressed. “I saw Hamzah leave and I just thought–”

“Yes!” you snapped, cutting her off. “I am perfectly fine.” You ran a hand through your hair and Mandy laughed, shaking her head at your idiocy.

“If you say so, girl.” The night continued smoothly once you had calmed yourself down from your strained interaction with Hamzah. The pasta was cheesy and delicious, followed by the brownies which were sweet and rich with chocolate. Mandy shared the brownies with the two boys, Martin full of compliments and praise for the two of you, while Hamzah enjoyed his in silence, glancing at you every so often with a wide-eyed stare that made you feel both uncomfortable and anxious. Throughout the night, Martin and Mandy exchanged coy looks, giggling under their breath at something that seemed to you like an inside joke, but you were unsure. Finally, you reached your breaking point, and blurted out your confusion at the couple’s strange attitude.

“What the hell are you two plotting?” you asked. The couple exchanged a knowing look, smirking at each other.

“Plotting?” Mandy repeated. “We’re not plotting anything.”

“I know you are,” you said. 

To your utter surprise, Hamzah chimed in in agreement. “Yeah,” he said, mouth full of brownie. “You’re both acting so weird. What’s going on?”

Mandy gave Martin another weird look, the two nodding at each other in joint agreement. “Well…” Mandy said. “There’s this movie that Martin and I have been dying to see and it comes out today. We’re going to leave to see it now.”

“And we know that the two of you have some unsettled differences,” Martin chimed in. “So while we go out to see this movie, the two of you are going to stay here and figure them out.”

“Are you serious, Mandy?” you said, exasperation at this situation obvious in your voice. You glanced at Hamzah who had undeniable shock plastered all over his face. “No…” you said, as the couple began to pack up their things and pull their shoes on in quick succession. “No, no, you’re not doing this.”

“We’ll just leave the house, Martin,” Hamzah said.

“We’re locking the two of you in,” the brunette replied. “You’re not getting out this easy. The way you two absolutely despise each other pisses us off. So, you’re both not leaving until you have established some sort of mutual camaraderie or something like it. Understand?” You and Hamzah stood up from the table in protest, but it was too late, Mandy and Martin left the house in sync, locking the door from the outside. The two of you were trapped, together and alone, for an uncomfortable, inestimable amount of hours. You let out a sigh of pure frustration, understanding that the following couple of hours were going to be the most uncomfortable and angry you had felt in a while.

“Well, shit,” Hamzah said, sitting back down and folding his arms across his broad chest.

You rolled your eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous,” you said. “There’s no way I’m doing this.” You get up and pace the wooden floor, head lowered as you think of all the ways you could escape Hamzah and his brown-eyed gaze that you could feel following your every move.

“Oh, come on,” he said, standing up from his seat. He moved in front of you, blocking your path, looking down at you with a facetious smirk that boiled your blood. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, maneuvering around the larger man. “It can and it is.” Hamzah reached out, fast as lightning, and grabbed your forearm. The slight touch sent undeniable shivers down your spine, which you hated. He turned you around to face him, the two of you inches from one another. You gazed down at his hand, still wrapped around your forearm.

“Am I really that detestable to you, y/n?” he asked, voice at a decibel so low you had to crane your ears to even hear him. The inches between the two of you began closing, his eyes—so brown they looked black—drawing you closer. Dark, seductive images flitted through your mind: Hamzah’s large hands gripping your waist, his lips on your neck, hands fisting your hair, gripping your throat, touching your cunt. Shocked, you wretch your forearm out of his grasp.

“Yes,” you breathed out, chest heaving, mind reeling from your stupid imagination and wandering mind. “You are that detestable.”

“Really?” Hamzah asked, voice no louder than a whisper. You realized as your back hit the wall that he had backed you into a both physical and mental corner. You gulped as he drew closer and closer. “Because—I think—you like to think of me as something more than just detestable.”

“I don’t like to think of you at all, Hamzah,” you said, skin burning as his dark eyes remained locked on yours, unyielding in their direct gaze.

“You don’t?” he said, scoffing. He leaned closer, lips practically brushing yours. His large hands maneuver to grip your waist, and you don’t even try to stop him. “Not at all, huh. Not even at night, when you’re alone in your bed.” His grip on your waist tightened and shockwaves of undeniable pleasure flash through your spine like needles. “Cause I do. All the fucking time.” You look up at him, eyes widened in shock. He curses, the grip on your waist tightening so hard you thought it would bruise. “Don’t,” he said, voice rough and gravely. “Don’t fucking look at me like that…or I’m going to do something we both will regret.”

You had never expected to feel this way about Hamzah. But seeing him—a man so stupid and narcissistic and haughty—reduced to this…reduced to a quivering mess of a man with needy desperation written all over him, you felt that you couldn’t help yourself. You whimpered as your core tightened. Your back brushed the wall and Hamzah leaned impossibly closer, chest brushing against your own.

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want this.” You froze, the repeated words brushing your lips, bubbling up inside you. But you couldn’t lie. You couldn’t say them. For deep down inside you, in a place you had buried since you got to know him, lay the dirty, red-hot truth. You wanted him too, equally as bad. Your shaking hands, puppeteered not by your brain, but by that stupid feeling deep in your heart, reached up to intertwine behind Hamzah’s neck, grasping at the delicate curls at his nape. Hamzah’s eyes widened at the realization that you weren’t backing away.

“I can’t,” you confessed. Hamzah, lips quivering with desire, leaned closer, brushing your soft and plush mouth with his own. Unable to contain your palpitating desire, you tightened your grip on his curls and pulled him into you, pressing your lips violently together. Your lips locked together, a wet mess of tongue and spit as you desperately clung to each other. Hamzah’s hands ran up and down your body, unsure of what part of you he wanted to touch first, desperate for everything, all at once. He separated from your lips, and you let out a needy, unfiltered whine at the lack of contact. Hamzah began kissing down your neck, suckling on that sweet spot behind your ear that made you cry out in pleasure.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, in between open-mouthed kisses planted on your neck. “You have no fucking idea what you do to me.” You whimpered at the blunt confession, hands yanking at his curls. His hands grabbed at your ass, lifting you up effortlessly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Hamzah roughly pushed you up against the wall, lips connecting with your own again. You yanked at his t-shirt and he paused his motions, pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room. You came face-to-face with his body, ribbed and muscular from his time in the gym, while also maintaining enough tummy to make your thighs squeeze together. You mirror his movements, pulling your tanktop off and shucking your sweats down your legs, leaving you in your bra and underwear. Hamzah looks at you starstruck.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, reaching to grasp at your covered tits. “You’re even prettier than I imagined.” You giggled slightly, a gesture that never occurred to you would happen with Hamzah. Hamzah sunk down to his knees, leaving little kisses along your stomach and the underside of your tits. Kissing and biting your inner thighs, he dragged your underwear down your legs, mouth agape as you came face-to-face with your soaking cunt. He looked up at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated, and you felt your knees weaken. Hamzah grabbed one of your thighs after the other, wrapping your legs around his shoulders practically sitting on him, leaning against the wall. He continued to leave little kisses along your legs, suckling purple bruises onto your inner thighs.

“Hamzah–” you whine, tightening your grip in his curls.

“Use your words, y/n,” he said, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes.

“I need you,” you say, your desperation overwhelming your embarrassment and confusion. Hamzah smirked up at you, before shoving his head deep between your thighs. He licked a long strip up your folds, holding eye contact with you, before circling his tongue around your clit. As his tongue connected with your sensitive bud, you let out a long moan, head tilting back against the wall. Hamzah ate you out like it was his last meal, licking, sucking, and slurping your juices in a constant state of desperation for more. You felt yourself coming closer and closer to your climax, hands tightening his hair as his nose rubbed deep into your clit. You came with a cry, legs shaking around his head as you shuddered and convulsed, white spots bedazzling your vision.

Hamzah lifted you up, wrapping your legs back around his waist and kissed you, mouth stained with your juices. You tasted yourself on his tongue and moaned at the feel of his tongue poking its way into your mouth.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he whispered. “You have no idea how bad I wanted you.”

“Hamzah—” you panted. “I need you inside of me.” He reached down into his pants, pulling out his hard member, stroking it a few times before rubbing it up and down your wet folds. He slid into you with a gasp, the two of you moaning at the feel of him sheathed inside of you. He began slowly thrusting in and out of you, the stretch of his thick cock inside your cunt drawing whimpers from deep in your throat. While your eyes rolled back into your head from the pleasure, Hamzah never broke eye contact.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” he said. “You hate me, huh?”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah, you hate me…but you’re still here, being fucked by this cock, huh?” You couldn’t respond, the only sound flowing from you being heady whines and high-pitched moans. You felt yourself inching closer towards another release, one of your hands reaching between your legs to rub your clit. One of Hamzah’s hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly, you realized with a jolt that he was holding you up with one hand. The fact that this man could hold you up and fuck you so good with just the strength of one arm made your core tighten.

“I–I’m gonna cum, Hamzah,” you manage to cry out, dangerously tipping on the precipice of release.

“Oh, yeah?” Hamzah responded breathlessly. “You gonna cum, baby? Shit. Cum for me, pretty girl.” You cum with a strangled yelp falling from your lips. 

“Good girl,” Hamzah moaned out, hips beginning to stutter. “Good girl, so pretty, so fucking pretty for me.” Your hands grabbed onto his curls tightly, yanking as you came down from your high. The feel of his dark strands being pulled so tightly sent Hamzah over the edge. Hips stuttering as he came, head buried deep into your neck, he let out a flurry of whimpers and praises. The two of you sat there for a minute, Hamzah breathing heavily into your neck. Just then, you heard the jangle and clank of keys outside of the door. Hamzah’s eyes locked onto yours, wide with shock and fear.

“Shit,” you say. Untangling your limbs, the two of you rushed to dress in five seconds flat. You threw yourselves onto the couch, sitting on opposite ends just as Mandy and Martin opened the door and returned.

“The cinema was closed, guys,” Martin announced as he took off his coat and boots, Mandy close behind him. “Did you at least make up though?”

“Yeah, we did,” Hamzah responded, voice still rough and breathless. The couple finally came into your view, cheeks and ears red from the outside wind. You knew that the two of you were a strange sight: clothes rumpled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and something dirtier. You also knew that, ever the observer, it would be Mandy to notice.

“Oh my god!” she said, covering her shocked face with a hand. “OH MY GOD, MARTIN!” She yanked on his sleeve, jumping up and down.

“What?!” he asked. “I don’t get it.”

“They fucked, holy shit, they fucked,” she laughed and giggled, jumping up and down with glee. “You owe me a hundred dollars, Martin.”

[pedriache]

Feel something — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: Pau knew he shouldn’t like you. You were his best friends sister. Off limits. So why couldn’t he get you out of his head? When it almost came out, not only did you seem to feel the same.. you also rejected him.

Word count: 1.14k

Disclaimer/s: This is going to be a part two and I will link it here when it comes out. Very important to note! Angst.

A/N: thank u enny pooh for coming up w this!

The quiet atmosphere of your living room only lasted until six in the afternoon, when you brother came home from practice or whatever he did that day, and usually accompanied by Pau.

So at five thirty, you chose to finish cleaning and decide on dinner. Since today was Friday, you ordered takeout as that was a routine you and Héctor had grown accustomed to since you both moved into the city together. After much contemplation, you choose pizza and breadsticks. Simple and easy, no going wrong.

While waiting for the food to arrive, you turn the TV on and click on the show you’d been watching recently.

The front door unlocking snapped your attention away, a smiling gracing your lips at the sight of your brother, then to Pau, who was closing the door behind him.

The take out order was in Héctor’s arms, “the guy arrived at the same time as us.” He explains, walking behind the couch to swat at your head like he did every time he came home.

Groaning, you duck and cover your head. “Nice to see you too.” You grumble, twisting around on the couch and climbing over it to reach the kitchen quicker.

Sliding onto one of the stools, you glance Pau’s ways with a grin. “Another slumber party? Seriously? Do your parents not miss you sometimes?”

Rolling his eyes at your teasing tone, Pau slides onto the stool beside you. Both of you watch as Héctor starts to open the pizza and grab plates. “They miss me plenty.”

“Can you guys shut up and eat.” Héctor quips, sliding two plates across the counter for each of you. “What movie did you want to watch?”

Halfway through taking a bite of the pizza, you pull it away. Licking the pizza sauce off your lips, you think for a minute. “Uh, not sure. You choose.”

“I don’t want to choose.” Your brother groans, “I chose last time.”

“Well I chose twice in a row before, so this is us getting equal—“

“Why don’t you just rock, paper, scissors, and figure it out.” Pau interrupts, only to be met either two glares being shot his way. He throws his hands up in defense, “I was just trying to help!”

The innocent look on his face makes you grin slightly, “okay! Why don’t you choose, Pau.”

The boy laughs, “yeah, no. Hard pass.”

“Why do we even have these movie nights if we never know what to watch?” Héctor chimes in, taking a bite of his pizza.

Swallowing your own bite, you huff. “You started this tradition, this is your own fault.”

Half an hour later, you’d all agreed on watching a show, ‘Money Heist’ which Héctor had vehemently argued that it was boring. Which he still seemed to believe as he’d fallen asleep not even twenty minutes into the second episode.

Now it was just you and Pau, alone, sitting on either ends of the sofa. You hated being alone with him, it left you nervous and jittery. Like you didn’t know how to act.

Mindlessly grabbing for more popcorn, the bowl in the middle cushion for easy access for both you and Pau, you feel a hand, his hand, graze yours.

Jerking it back, you send him an uneasy smile. Fingers tingling at the slight touch. “Sorry.” You whisper, waiting for him to grab his own handful. Even though, now you didn’t feel very hungry.

“It’s okay, you first.” He insists, motioning toward the bowl. When you shake your head, his eyebrows knit together. “Okay…” He says slowly, taking a handful of the popcorn.

When you don’t reach for yours, he examines your expression. “Are you okay? You look a little… nauseous.”

“Fine! I’m fine! Just fine.” You were too quick to speak, face flushing. “Not very hungry anyways.”

Pau nods hesitantly, plopping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. But his mind stays on you, your weird behavior, your jerky move after you touched. He could be thinking too much into it, but maybe you did like him back. Maybe. He shouldn’t even be pondering this, you were his best friend’s sister. There’s an unspoken rule, siblings were off limits.

But he had to try, Héctor was more understanding than most.

He says your name softly, gaining your attention. Your head snaps toward him, “what?” You ask. He’d spoken so quietly, you weren’t even sure he said it.

“How was school?” He chickened out. He completely chickened out! Internally groaning to himself, he takes a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth to distract himself.

A small chuckle escapes past your lips, “since when do you care about school, let alone how it’s going for me?” Pausing the TV, you glance at him curiously.

Pau’s eyebrows scrunch together, “what do you mean? I’ve always cared, when it came to you that is. Couldn’t care less about the school part.” Was he being obvious? Was that too obvious?

“Oh!” Is all you could get out. He cared, when it came to you. Which could mean nothing, I mean, seriously. There was no way he felt that way toward you. He was Héctor’s friend and sure, you liked him, but you didn’t expect anything from it.

“Sorry, was that too much?” He asks through a shy huff of breath. His eyes darting toward his hands in his lap, now empty of the popcorn now.

“No!” You say quickly, “no, it’s fine. Uhm, school’s going alright. It’s just boring and uneventful.”

Pau nods in understanding, “usually is. Seeing anyone?” He was trying to be subtle, but you caught on. Your lips twitching in an attempt to suppress a grin.

“Nope! You?”

“Nope.” There’s a beat, a bit of silence till Pau speaks again, “good, good.”

“Good?” You laugh, “what’s that supposed to mean?” Oh, but you knew. Your fingers picking at the fuzz on your blanket. You’d thought about this for years. This exact moment, but now you realize it shouldn’t be happening. You couldn’t feel these things, no matter how much you wanted to.

Your eyes flicker to Héctor who was fast asleep on the lounge chair a few feet away.

“Never mind, don’t answer that.” You clear your throat, “I should get to bed.”

Pau’s mouth falls agape, “already?” He was utterly and completely confused. You’d changed your mind that quickly, and he had no idea why.

Standing up and tossing your blanket over your shoulder, you can’t bring yourself to look at the boy. “Héctor is my brother, and you are his best friend. And it’s wrong. Very wrong. So. Good night, Pau.”

Leaving him confused and upset, you make your hasty retreat back toward your bedroom. But still, you couldn’t figure out if you’d just done the both of you a favor, or ruined something that could’ve been really, really good.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[reidmarieprentiss]

Bridges to Belonging

Part One Part Two Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Penelope texts Y/n, Rossi has a dinner party, Y/n and Spencer meet

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings/Includes: mentions of virginity and sex (16+), playing never have I ever, teasing from friends, consuming alcohol

Word count: 3.7k

a/n: i am cranking this story out it is going to be finished so fast dear goddd ,, hopefully y'all like it!!! probably like 5 ish more parts is my guess

main masterlist

Y/n was settling in for the night after a long shift at the hospital, kicking her feet up on her coffee table with a glass of wine in hand when her usually dead phone vibrated. 

Hey, Y/N! 😊 It's Penelope from the BAU. Hope you don't mind me texting! Just thought I'd check in and see how my favorite child psychologist is doing. 🌟

Hey, Penelope! Of course, I don't mind :) I’m doing well, just busy with work as usual. How about you?

Busy saving the world, one computer at a time! 🖥️💪 So, tell me, are you still too busy to date, or have you finally joined us mere mortals in the quest for love? 💘

Haha I guess we’re getting right into it. I suppose I am feeling ready to dip my toes back into the dating pool. But I’ve been avoiding it for a while 😅 Awkward first dates are terrifying!

Ooh, exciting! 🥳 But I totally get the fear. Blind dates can be the worst. You never know if you're going to meet Prince Charming or... well, not. 😬

Exactly! And I've been so focused on my career that I haven't really thought about dating in a while. Plus, all my undergrad flings made me a bit wary of anything serious.

Understandable. Sometimes you just need to have fun, right? But now that you’re settled, maybe it’s time for a change? 😉

Yeah, maybe you're right. I wouldn't mind meeting someone who shares my interests and gets my sense of humor.

OMG, that sounds like a dream. Let me know when you find them and send me one too. 💖

Ha! If I find one I will let you know. How does one even go about meeting new people nowadays?

Well… You remember Rossi, right? He’s having a pasta and wine night at his mansion this Friday at 8 pm!! 🎉

Pasta and wine?? Sounds perfect. Thanks, Penelope! I’ll be there, I appreciate you thinking of me :)

Anytime, Y/N! Can’t wait for you to meet the rest of the team. I’ve got a good feeling about this! 💖✨ 

—

The rest of the team? Y/n thought to herself. She had assumed she met everyone already when she went for drinks with Aaron and the team. Maybe they added a new member. Regardless, she's excited to do three of her favorite things, eat pasta, drink wine, and let rich people pay for everything. 

—

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow over David Rossi’s expansive estate. Nestled in the Virginia countryside, the elegant home exuded both charm and sophistication, a perfect reflection of its owner. The team arrived one by one, greeted by the welcoming scent of freshly baked bread and simmering marinara sauce that wafted through the air, promising a feast of Italian delights.

As Y/n stepped into the house, they were embraced by the warm ambiance of the living room, where a crackling fire in the stone fireplace added a cozy touch. The room was tastefully decorated with leather-bound books, framed photographs, and art pieces that told stories of Rossi’s travels and experiences. Soft jazz music played in the background, the soothing melodies mingling with the lively chatter of the guests.

The dining room was a vision of elegance, with a long mahogany table set for the evening's festivities. Flickering candlelight danced across the table, casting a gentle glow on the polished silverware and delicate china. Each place setting was thoughtfully arranged, complete with fine crystal wine glasses waiting to be filled with Rossi’s carefully curated selection of wines.

On the far side of the room, a sideboard displayed an array of antipasti: olives, cured meats, marinated vegetables, and various cheeses artfully arranged on rustic wooden boards. A large bouquet of fresh flowers served as the centerpiece, adding a splash of color and vibrancy to the room.

The kitchen bustled with activity as Rossi, ever the gracious host, put the finishing touches on a variety of homemade pasta dishes. Large pots simmered on the stove, the fragrant aroma of garlic and herbs filling the air. A pan of lasagna bubbled in the oven, its cheese topping perfectly golden brown. Fresh basil and parsley were sprinkled generously over platters of spaghetti aglio e olio and creamy fettuccine alfredo, each dish a testament to Rossi’s culinary skills and passion for Italian cuisine.

In the adjoining patio, strings of fairy lights twinkled overhead, providing a magical canopy under which the team could relax and unwind. Comfortable seating areas were arranged to encourage conversation, and a small fire pit offered warmth as the evening grew cooler. The gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets added a serene backdrop to the lively gathering.

The evening at Rossi’s house was in full swing. The room was alive with laughter and conversation, and the clinking of glasses mingled with the soft strains of jazz music. The warm glow from the fireplace and the dim lighting created a cozy, inviting atmosphere that wrapped the team in a sense of comfort and camaraderie.

As the doorbell rang, David straightened his jacket and moved toward the entrance with a welcoming smile. He opened the door to reveal Y/N, who stood on the threshold, looking radiant in her deep green dress that highlighted her curves and complemented her confident demeanor.

“Y/N! Welcome!” Rossi exclaimed, stepping aside to usher her into the house. His voice was warm and genuine, filled with the kind of hospitality that made his guests feel immediately at home. “I’m so glad you could make it. We’ve been looking forward to this evening.”

Y/N’s face brightened with a warm smile as she stepped inside. “Thank you, David. I’m excited to be here. The house looks wonderful.”

Rossi gave a hearty laugh. “It’s all thanks to the amazing team I have. Let me introduce you to everyone.”

With a graceful wave of his hand, Rossi guided Y/N into the living room, where the BAU team had gathered. The room buzzed with the energy of friends reconnecting after a long day. Rossi’s arrival with Y/N caught the attention of the group, and they turned to greet her with friendly smiles and nods.

Spencer, who had been deep in a conversation with Derek about a recent case, felt a shift in the atmosphere. His gaze followed Rossi and Y/N as they entered, his attention abruptly captured.

Spencer’s breath hitched slightly as he took in Y/N’s presence. The warm lighting seemed to highlight her natural beauty, and the graceful way she moved across the room was both captivating and disorienting. The rest of the team offered her friendly waves and greetings, but Spencer was fixated on her, his curiosity piqued.

Hotch, noticing Spencer’s focused attention, decided it was time for introductions. He approached Spencer with a friendly, knowing smile and gestured toward Y/N.

“Spencer,” Hotch began, his tone calm and reassuring, “I’d like you to meet Y/N.”

Spencer turned to face Hotch, his heart racing a bit. Hotch continued, “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid. He’s one of our most brilliant team members here at the BAU.”

Y/N extended her hand with a warm, welcoming smile. “Hi, Spencer. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

God, even her voice is beautiful. 

Spencer, momentarily taken aback, felt a flutter of nerves as he took her hand. “Hi, Y/N. It’s, uh, nice to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” he replied, his voice tinged with both shyness and genuine interest.

Y/N’s gaze was kind and her smile reassuring, making Spencer feel more at ease. “I hope it’s all been good,” she said with a playful glint in her eye.

Spencer managed a small, tight lipped smile, as he tucked his hair behind one ear and his nerves started to settle. “Definitely,” he replied, feeling a warmth that contrasted with his usual social anxiety.

Y/N leaned in slightly, her eyes meeting Spencer’s with a genuine curiosity. “So, Spencer,” she began, her tone light and engaging, “what’s one thing you’re passionate about outside of work?”

Spencer’s eyes lit up as he considered her question. “Well, I’m really into chess,” he admitted. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid. It’s a great way to exercise the mind and challenge myself.”

Y/N’s smile widened. “I didn’t know that. I used to play chess with my grandfather when I was younger. It’s a fascinating game. Do you have a favorite opening strategy?”

Spencer’s face brightened, and he leaned in a bit more, his enthusiasm evident. “Yes! I’m a big fan of the Queen’s Gambit. It’s a classic and very versatile. What about you?”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she shared her own chess experiences. The conversation continued, the two finding common ground and enjoying each other’s company.

Hotch observed the interaction with a pleased expression, satisfied with the introduction. He stepped back, allowing Spencer and Y/N to continue their conversation. The team resumed their chatter, though the undercurrent of excitement about the new connection was palpable.

The evening had progressed into a more relaxed phase as the team retreated to Rossi’s lush backyard. The gentle clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversation blended with the soft rustling of leaves in the warm night breeze. The group had moved outside after enjoying a sumptuous Italian feast prepared by Rossi and Penelope, and now they were settling into comfortable chairs and sofas, each with a glass of wine in hand.

Spencer, still a bit on edge but feeling slightly more at ease, had decided to join in on the wine, especially since Y/N had done the same. The rich, full-bodied wine paired perfectly with the after-dinner atmosphere, adding to the relaxed ambiance of the evening.

Derek, always the instigator of fun, leaned back in his chair with a mischievous grin. “Alright, everyone, I think it’s time for a game. How about a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” He looked around the circle with a gleam in his eye, clearly excited about the prospect of the game.

Emily raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh, this should be interesting. Let’s see who’s willing to spill some secrets tonight.”

Y/N looked intrigued but a bit hesitant. “Sounds fun. I’m game.”

The group settled into a comfortable rhythm as Derek began the game. “Okay, I’ll start. Never have I ever... gone skydiving.”

A few people sipped their wine, including Emily and Rossi. “Guilty as charged,” Rossi said with a chuckle. “Skydiving is quite the adrenaline rush.”

Y/N, who had taken a sip, smiled and said, “I’ve always wanted to try it, but never had the chance.”

Spencer, still holding his glass, observed the interactions with a mix of curiosity and caution. He had never played this game before, not having ever been invited to parties in high school or college, and while he was intrigued, he wasn’t sure how much he was ready to reveal about himself.

JJ leaned forward, looking at Y/N with a grin. “Okay, your turn. What’s something we’d never expect from you?”

Y/N thought for a moment, then laughed softly. “Alright, never have I ever... been to a strip club.”

This time, the whole team, including Penelope, sipped their wine. “Oh, I mean we all have been on multiple occasions for a case,” Penelope admitted with a grin. “It’s a rite of passage.”

Spencer watched Y/N closely, noticing how easily she blended with the group, her laughter and easy demeanor making her approachable. He found himself feeling more comfortable, the game serving as a welcome distraction from his usual reservations.

As the game continued, Derek took his turn. “Never have I ever... gone on a blind date.”

Spencer, who had been carefully sipping his wine, hesitated for a moment before taking a sip. He caught Y/N’s eye and saw her smile warmly. “Well, that’s a new one for me,” she said, clearly amused.

Hotch, enjoying the playful banter, decided to chime in. “I think it’s safe to say that a lot of us have had some interesting experiences with blind dates.”

The game continued with a mix of laughter, surprises, and the occasional sip of wine. As it came around to Spencer’s turn, he took a deep breath, deciding to take a small risk. “Never have I ever... read all the books in a series before the final book was released.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and she laughed. “Oh, I’m guilty of that too. I get too impatient for the next installment.”

Spencer felt a small spark of connection, his nerves easing as he realized they shared a common interest. “It’s the only way to avoid spoilers,” he said with a smile.

The conversation flowed easily as the game progressed, with everyone sharing stories and bonding over their revelations. Spencer found himself more relaxed, the warmth of the wine and the easygoing nature of the game creating an environment where he could be himself.

The group settled into their seats even more lubricated with wine, ready for the real revelations. Derek went first, his tone playful. “Never have I ever... been to a nightclub and partied until dawn.”

Y/N, Emily, Penelope and Derek took a sip, with Emily laughing. “Oh, I’ve done that more times than I can count. Nothing like a night out on the town to blow off some steam.”

Spencer seemed slightly more at ease with each revelation. “I’ve never been to one of those. It sounds like an experience.”

The game continued with more revealing questions. Emily, with a mischievous glint in her eye, asked, “Never have I ever... had a one-night stand.”

Spencer was visibly surprised when Y/N took a sip. Y/N gave a small, slightly embarrassed smile. “It’s a part of life’s experiences, but I guess I’ve been more focused on my career lately.”

Spencer nodded, a hint of understanding in his eyes. He was keenly aware of the fact that he was still a virgin, and while he wanted to connect with Y/N on a deeper level, he found himself struggling. She had undoubtedly had more romantic and physical experiences than he had. The thought that someone as stunning and sophisticated as Y/N would be interested in a novice like him seemed almost inconceivable. He was trying hard not to let his insecurities cloud his mood. The way she smelled—like a wet dream—was both intoxicating and overwhelming. Her laughter, so genuine and carefree, only accentuated the gulf between them. Spencer tried to shake off the discomfort, reminding himself to stay engaged.

Derek, sensing the shift in the conversation and relishing the opportunity to provoke more personal revelations, threw out another provocative prompt. “Never have I ever... gone on a vacation just for the sake of hooking up with someone.”

Penelope and Emily took a sip, with Penelope letting out a soft laugh. “Sometimes you just need to get away and see where the night takes you,” she said, a playful glint in her eye.

Y/N, now visibly more at ease and enjoying the shared camaraderie, leaned in slightly, her voice carrying a teasing edge. “I’ve always found travel is more about the sights than the romance. But I suppose the adventure can include a little... spontaneous connection,” she said, letting her words linger with a hint of allure. Her gaze flicked towards Spencer briefly, a subtle challenge in her eyes.

Spencer felt a slight flush creeping up his neck as he realized Y/N’s playful comment was not lost on him. The conversation had taken a decidedly more personal turn. “I’ve never really mixed vacation with... personal pursuits,” he admitted, his tone tinged with shyness. The idea of combining travel with romantic endeavors seemed foreign and somewhat intimidating.

As the game continued, the topics grew more intense and revealing. Rossi, with a knowing smile and a glint of mischief, asked, “Never have I ever... been in a relationship where both partners had different kinks.”

Everyone, even Hotch, took a sip, with Rossi adding, “Sometimes those differences can make things... particularly exciting.”

Y/N, engaging more openly with the group, nodded thoughtfully. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “It’s definitely something that can add a layer of complexity to a relationship,” she said, her voice taking on a more intimate tone. “It’s all about finding that balance and exploring what truly works for both partners.”

Spencer, taking a sip and feeling the warmth of the wine begin to loosen his nerves, found himself caught between curiosity and shyness. “It sounds like navigating those differences can be... challenging,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze remained fixed on Y/N, trying to read the subtle nuances in her expressions. The vulnerability she displayed in her words made her even more intriguing.

Y/N’s smile widened slightly, a mix of empathy and flirtation in her gaze. “It can be, but it’s also part of what makes relationships interesting,” she said, her voice soft but laced with a suggestive undertone. She met Spencer’s eyes with a confident yet gentle look, as if inviting him to share more of his thoughts.

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling a blend of attraction and apprehension. The way Y/N spoke, her casual yet intimate revelations, made him want to know more about her and, perhaps, reveal more about himself. The game had opened a door to a new level of connection, one that both excited and intimidated him.

The night had drifted into a mellow haze as the stars began to twinkle in the sky. The soft hum of conversation and clinking of glasses had subsided into a relaxed murmur as the team lingered in Rossi’s backyard, enjoying the cool night air. The rich aroma of the evening’s wine lingered in the air, adding a heady undertone to the tranquil setting.

Spencer had been engaged in a conversation with Rossi, but his mind kept drifting back to the playful exchanges he’d shared with Y/N. She had been captivating throughout the evening, her laughter and teasing remarks sticking in his mind. He found himself drawn to her energy, even as he struggled with his own insecurities.

As the night wore on, guests began to trickle out, and the ambiance of the backyard shifted to a quieter, more intimate atmosphere. Spencer watched as Y/N, her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the wine, made her way towards him. Her movements were graceful, and there was a certain confident allure in her stride that made Spencer’s heart skip a beat.

Y/N approached Spencer with a mix of determination and vulnerability. She cleared her throat gently, her eyes locking with his in a gaze that was both direct and inviting. The faint glow from the string lights above cast a warm halo around her, highlighting her striking features and the subtle sheen of her skin.

“Hey, Spencer,” she said, her voice soft but laden with an undeniable edge of sincerity. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Spencer, caught off guard, nodded. “Of course, Y/N. What’s up?”

Y/N led him a little away from the remaining guests, her hand brushing lightly against his as she guided him to a more secluded corner of the backyard. Spencer found he didn’t mind the contact too much, he might still wash his hands after. The quiet of the night enveloped them, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

She took a deep breath, her eyes searching his with a mix of hesitation and resolve. “I’ve really enjoyed talking with you tonight,” she began, her voice a touch more vulnerable than usual. “And I have to admit, I’ve been thinking... I’d like to see you again. Maybe for a coffee or dinner sometime? I’d love to get to know you better.”

Spencer’s heart raced as he took in her words. He felt a rush of warmth at the idea of spending more time with her, but the reality of his inexperience and his nerves threatened to overwhelm him. He managed a small, nervous smile, his mind racing through a whirlwind of thoughts.

“I’d like that,” Spencer said, his voice trembling slightly. “I’d really like that. I... I didn’t expect this, but I’m glad you asked.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she reached out to touch his arm, her fingers lingering for a moment. “Good,” she said, her tone taking on a more intimate quality. 

Spencer felt a surge of excitement mixed with his usual apprehension. The way Y/N looked at him, with that blend of confidence and genuine interest, made him feel like he was worthy of her attention.

“Absolutely,” he said, feeling more confident. “Let’s definitely make plans. I’d like that very much.”

Y/N’s smile widened, a mix of relief and satisfaction crossing her face. “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

With that, she gave him a warm, lingering smile and a light touch on his arm before heading back towards the group to say her goodbyes. Spencer watched her go, with a brand new phone number in his pocket, feeling a renewed sense of hope and excitement. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, and he couldn’t wait to see where this new connection with Y/N might lead.

[nicestgirlonline]

Let Me Hear You Scream

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! language, threatening situations, DUB CON, horror elements

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: It’s the 90s so you actually answer the phone when you’re watching movies

a/n: Happy Halloween yall!!!! Still working on other projects but really wanted to get something out for Halloween! This was for @witchywithwhiskey’s Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon! the prompts I picked were Scream and “I’m your boyfriend now” Hope you all enjoy!!!! Thanks for reading, I’d love your feedback! Reblogs and comments are love <3

1993. A sleepy suburban town, where nothing exciting ever happens. Friday night.

Your friends were all going out to Wanda’s party, but you were stuck housesitting for your aunt. Your mom had promised you would house sit weeks ago, so you couldn’t get off the hook. It was a big empty house, more rooms than your aunt could ever need. Most were filled up with storage and dust bunnies.

You tried to make the best of the boring night-in. You rented some Meg Ryan movies with plans to completely veg out. You ordered an extra large pizza with all of your favorite toppings and raided your aunts pantry for snacks.

You glanced down at your shirt and saw red. Pizza sauce! Blooming red circle right in the center of your cream sweater. You let out a huff of frustration. Some Friday night.

You changed into comfy nightwear--a baby blue cotton gown that brushed the very top of your knees, along with a pair of fluffy bunny slippers for good measure. You settled back down in front of the TV.

RING. RING. RING.

You picked up the phone, squeezing it between your ear and shoulder as you carried your snacks over to the kitchen.

“Hello,” you used your best fake customer service voice. Your aunt had asked you to take down any messages. She must have a new boyfriend she was hoping would call. You wait for a response but all you can hear is low breaths through the receiver. “Hello?” You try again

“Is this Sidney?” The voice was weirdly distorted and hard to place. It was deep, clearly a man’s voice.

“Sorry, wrong number dude.” You hung up before he could let another word out. You set the phone down by the cradle and go back to making your snacks. You got out the big popcorn bowl.

The phone rang out again. “Hello?” You answered. You really hadn’t expected to be fielding this many phone calls.

“Hey. Did I call you earlier?” It was the same strange voice. You blew some air through your lips, how annoying.

“Sidney’s not here. Have a good night--”

“Aw man. She must have given me a fake number. I don’t mean to bother you over and over tonight.” He sighed, sounding very apologetic.

“No worries. Have a good night.”

“Wait, wait. I like the sound of your voice.”

You paused. Was it totally weird to just chat with this guy? Yeah. But what harm could it be? You felt a bit of a flutter in your stomach. You never had talked to a stranger over the phone like this. It felt clandestine! You decided to go with it.

“Better than Sidney’s?” You asked, trying to make your voice sound as flirty as possible. You heard him hum approval.

“Much better than…let’s not talk about her. What are you doing tonight?” There was something very familiar about his voice. There was a crackle and static that made it so you couldn’t quite make it out. It must be a shitty connection.

“I was having a movie night. I’m making some snacks right now.” You started to curl the phone cord around your finger.

“What are you watching, Pumpkin? Something scary?”

“No way. I hate scary movies.”

“Especially not when you’re alone right?”

“Uh - um - I’m not alone. Actually.” You lied. How did he know you were alone? Was he just guessing?

“Scary movies are always scarier when you’re all alone, in a big empty house, that’s in the middle of nowhere,” he continued.

A shiver went down your spine. That was a bit too accurate. But there's no way he could possibly know where you were. It was a phone call!

“I just don’t like them. It's either some creepy slasher stabbing some big boobed blonde through her white t-shirt or a ghost that's a metaphor for trauma. No thank you,” you sighed.

“I think you’re being a little hard on them. Maybe if you watched them with a guy to cling to you’d like them more. Do you have a boyfriend?”

There it was. Obviously the alone comment was him trying to set the mood.

“Why do you want to know? Already over Sidney?” You teased him.

“Answer the question.” He was very serious. You didn’t like the tone he had.

“Yes, I do. Are you going to hang up?” You lied again, trying to call his bluff.

“You don’t have a boyfriend. What are you wearing? Something cute and virginal? What about your underwear?” You pulled the phone away from your ear in shock. You were officially too skeeved out. This wasn’t some poor guy who got slipped a fake number. He was a weirdo!

“Ok perv, I’m over this. Bye.”

“I wouldn’t hang up Y/N.” His voice was suddenly hostile. He spat each syllable out filled with hatred. Your blood ran cold. Your heart started to race. How would he possibly know your name?

“Is this a prank? Not very funny. Is this you Tony?” Your voice shook with fear.

“Who’s Tony? That your boyfriend?” He snarled.

“This is a really bad joke. Did someone put you up to this? Scott? Knock it off now!”

“Jesus you’ve got a lot of men in your life. Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I don’t like sharing.”

“I’m serious, this is a bad joke, so just give it up already.” You cried out, you looked around, making sure you were still totally alone.

“I don’t give up so easily. Do you, Pumpkin? Do you give it up to any guy who looks in your direction? I bet you do, you slut. That's why you're talking to a guy you don’t know while you’re all alone.”

“I’m hanging up, I already told you I’m not alone. My boyfriend is here! He’s big and he plays football. S-so don’t call back ok?” You tried to sound as forceful as possible but your lips wobbled and you tripped over your words.

“Pumpkin, you’re lying to me. You’re all alone in that big house in the middle of nowhere, wearing that skanky nightgown. I can see your nipples poking through this whole time. You’re so turned on by a psycho on the phone, huh?”

You let out a scream. You slammed the phone down, hanging it up. You started to spin a circle looking at all the windows, trying to see if you could see somebody watching you. You ran to the front door to make sure they were locked. You went window by window locking them and shutting the curtains. You took a chair from the kitchen and dragged it in front of the door, jamming it beneath the door knob.

RING RING RING RING

You looked around, trying to remember where all of the doors were in the house. You spun around running to the kitchen entrance. You double checked the lock and put the chain on the door. You slid down the door with your back pressing against it trying to catch your breath.

This wasn’t real. This had to be some fucked up prank. The guys were all too hyped up for Halloween and wanted to get a scare out of you. The ringing stopped and you heard the voicemail click, your aunt's outgoing message began to play.

“You screening your calls, skank? You’re gonna die, you little whore! I’m gonna see what your insides look like --” You picked up the phone just to end the message and slammed it back down. As you scampered away it fell down, swinging from the cord. You take off up the stairs, stumbling up the stairs.

You dash into the guest room you had been staying in. You quickly locked the door. Your hands were shaking still. How was this happening?

The window started to jiggle. You could hear the groaning old wood start to slide. With nothing better to arm yourself with you grabbed a pillow and started to wildly smack the intruder with all you could.

“Whoa whoa whoa, it’s me -- it’s me!” Bucky Barnes, your classmate, was gripping the window sill, flabbergasted from the pillow. You hadn’t even had time to register who it was before you attacked.

“Bucky? What the fuck are you doing here?” You demanded. This proved to you it had to be some kind of a prank. Why else would Bucky Barnes, the moody guy from your film class be climbing up to your room.

“Well, when you said you were busy tonight I thought I could just surprise you? Like a grand romantic gesture or something? Can you um, let me in? It's actually kind of cold.” He was shivering out there. He looked so earnest it tugged on your heart just a bit.

You motioned for him to come in. He heaved his body up, awkwardly crawling through the tight window then falling to the ground. He sprang back up quickly, smiling at you.

“Is this a prank? Are you in on this with the other guys or something?” You crossed your arms.

“Um, other guys? Are there other guys here? I thought I was being original.” He peered around you as if to look for them. You rolled your eyes.

“The phone calls Bucky. I’m not joking around.”

“What phone calls? I’ve been driving all night to get here from campus, then shimmying up some ivy. Haven’t exactly had any time to stop at a payphone. You know what. This was a bad idea, I can see that, I’ll just leave.” He sheepishly put his hands in his pockets as he crouched down to leave the way he came.

“No, no wait!” You grabbed him, keeping him from going outside. If it wasn’t Bucky then there was still a psycho out there! “I don’t know what's going on, but this weird guy kept calling me, and he was watching me! Like I think he was outside the house or something.”

“Calm down, calm down. I was just outside. There's nobody out there. It was probably just a prank call.”

He started to rub your back with slow soothing circles. It was intimate in a way you weren’t used to from Bucky. He was the quiet one, never really hung out unless Steve was around. His palm pressed into your lower back, holding you closer to him. His other hand cupped the back of your head, guiding you into the crook of his neck.

“You’re getting so worked up. Maybe you should just lie down.” He shushed you as you tried desperately to explain it wasn’t a prank call. He guided the two of you down to the bed. He laid down next to you.

“Bucky…why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you, I thought you knew…isn’t it obvious how I feel about you?”

Your head was spinning. Bucky liked you? He barely even talked to you! When he casually asked if you were going to Wanda’s party you assumed it was just small talk. He had grunted and left the second you told him you were busy.

“I think I should call the cops about this--”

“I’m here aren’t I? I’ll keep you safe.” His lips connected with yours silencing you from responding. His kiss was eager, but still so gentle. He slowly moved his lips against yours, basking in the taste of you. He took his time and slowly you could feel his tongue ghosts against your bottom lip, looking for entrance.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, the shock, or maybe Bucky was just an extremely good kisser, but you quickly fell under the spell of the kiss. You let yourself get lost kissing him, trying to forget the phone call prankster that had been terrorizing you.

Fear was still racking through your body, but Bucky felt safe. You tangled your hands in his hair bringing him closer. His hand slowly traced up and down your leg. Both his hands grasped your legs, essentially pinning you down. You felt a cool air waft over your thighs as his fingers gently crept beneath your nightgown.

He cupped you over your underwear, grabbing the elastic and letting it snap back against your skin. You finally broke free of the kiss to gasp. He sat back on his ankles, his hand still toying with your panties.

“Bucky, I--”

“Shhh it's ok. I’m here to save the day. No one's gonna hurt you while I’m around.” He pushed aside your panties and started to slowly circle your clit. You whined as he circles you again and again, the pleasure rushing through you and pushing every thought of terror out of your brain.

He pressed his thumb against your clit and dipped his fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers, dragging more moans out of you. As he fucked you with his fingers, you tilted your hips up for more delicious friction.

“That's it my brave girl, Bucky’s here for you,” he murmured above you. He spoke with such hard conviction. His eyes were intensely boring into yours, nearly unblinking. He was no longer softly in the throws of passion. He was a man on a mission.

He kept pumping his fingers, he brought his other hand up from your leg to palm himself through his jeans. He groaned as he adjusted himself and went back to work on you. His other hand circling around your inner thigh, moving your leg up to his shoulder.

“Bucky, please, please,” you babbled as the pleasure began to mount and mount. It was nearly unbearable as you chased your release, grinding your hips up and down on his hand, riding his fingers towards that sweet relief.

“Yes, you’re doing so well, you’re perfect.” He brought his lips to your neck and began to suck at your sensitive spot. You let out a cry of pleasure as your climax flowed over you. You clamped your legs together, biting down on your lip as another cry came out.

You took a moment to catch your breath, Bucky was still nibbling on your neck. You grabbed his face and brought his lips back to yours. He eagerly responded, his lips enveloping yours.

You grabbed the underwear that you were still wearing and rolled it down your body to fling them off. You sat up and grabbed at Bucky until you found his belt. You fumbled, trying to unbuckle it. Bucky's hands quickly found yours and he brought them together, kissing both your palms. He unbuckled the belt on his own. Removing it without ceremony or flourish. He then yanked his jeans and underwear down.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

“I want you so badly, Bucky,” you moaned.

He let out a strangled gasp that turned to laughter. You tilted your head at the reaction. He didn’t sound exactly happy, it was more sinister.

“I just have waited so long to hear you say that to me. I’m so happy right now,” he nearly giggled. He giddily took off his jacket, tossing it to the ground.

“Keep me distracted Bucky, ok?” You asked as you hitch your nightgown up to your waist.

“Oh yes, anything for you, Pumpkin.” He had a devilish smirk on his face as he pressed his lips to your navel, slowly kissing his way up. He grabbed your nightgown and finished taking it off. Tossed it to the side with the pile of his clothes.

He made his way up your abdomen before groping your chest with a satisfied hiss. He squeezed you roughly, making you squeak. He latched his lips onto your breast. You let out a gasp as he lightly bit down. He tended thoroughly to each breast, his wicked tongue teasing at your pebbled nipples until you were a moaning puddle.

He grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it to your folds. He brushed the head of his cock up and down your cunt, teasing it out. He pressed his forehead against yours.

“You really mean it, right? You want me?” he asked desperately.

“Yes --” Before another word could escape your lips, he entered you. His whole body shivered. He thrust the tip of his head in, easing in and out until he was fully sheathed inside of you. You moaned as the stretch burned in pleasure and pain.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he moaned, the pace he had set was blistering. You gripped his shoulders to keep yourself anchored as he hammered into you. “You’re so tight, so tight fuuuck me.”

He thrust over and over, using the heel of his hand to keep working at your clit. You scratched your hands down his back as his pumps kept hitting the perfect spot. It was torturous pleasure as he kept working up and down your clit, not giving you a moment of respite.

You came again, your body seizing up as you cried out and then falling limp, boneless back down to the bed. Bucky grabbed your hips, pulling your lower body off the bed as he raced for his own release. The slapping sounds of your bodies filled the room along with his deep, gutural breaths.

“Yes, yes, you’re mine, you’re mine, I finally have you, finally, finally…” he babbled as he slowed his pace as he fucked out his climax.

XXX

You curled next to Bucky in the big fluffy guest bed. Both of you were happily satisfied. All thoughts of strangers on the phone were gone from your head. Now it was filled with what just happened.

Hooking up with Bucky? You’d never considered it before. You weren’t sure why, he was so very cute, you thought as you gazed at his face. His eyes were dreamily staring back at you, that big smile had not left his face yet.

“So if you want to like, hang out, I have snacks and movies. We can go curl up on the couch and just completely let our brains rot.” You traced tiny circles on his chest, feeling pretty confident he’d want to stick around.

“I’d be down for a little romcom night, as long as you’re there.” He affectionately tapped your nose.

“Good because that's all I’ve got!”

The two of you got back into a semblance of your outfits, you pulled your nightgown back on, and Bucky pulled on his boxers and the white undershirt he was wearing. You snagged his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He hummed his approval and kissed you on the cheek.

You grabbed him by the hand and pulled him along down the stairs.

“You can go grab the popcorn, I’ll put the tapes in.” You directed Bucky towards the kitchen as you made your way towards the living room.

You pass the chairs jammed in front of the doors, and you remember your panic.

You shuddered--what a mean prank to pull. What kind of psycho talks to people like that?

You slipped your arms into Bucky's jacket to wrap yourself in it. It smelled sharp and sweet from his body wash and cologne blending together. You stuck your hands in the pockets, only to feel something heavy and tube shaped. You pulled it out, curious, turning it over in your hands a few times to investigate.

It was a long cylindrical looking microphone. You assumed it was some sort of film equipment, but why would Bucky bring that along?

“Hello?” You spoke into the mic. But instead of your own voice, the same distorted, crackling voice from the phone came out.

You dropped it. It was like a hot iron in your hand.

You realized Bucky must have heard you too. Your head snapped towards the kitchen. He was walking slowly towards you, a huge chef’s knife from the kitchen was now in his hands.

“Bucky what the hell is this?” You asked, slowly backing away from him.

“I…can explain.” His grip on the knife tightened and he raised his hands in the air as if in surender, never slowing his pace towards you.

“No, I think you need to leave.” You covered your body with your arms, trying not to trip over the furniture.

“No, no, no you’re misunderstanding --” He was getting closer to you, he reached his arms out to try and grab you.

“Leave me alone!” You screamed out as you broke into a run. You made a mad dash to the front door. Bucky was close behind you.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” He cried out as you fumbled with all the locks. Your hands were shaking, you tried to remove the chain from the door but it wasn’t moving fast enough.

Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist and yanked your body into his. His hard bulge poked at your ass.

“No!!” you cried out as you started to thrash around. You quickly stilled as the sharp point of the knife began to dig into your throat.

“Let’s calm down ok. I think you’re getting too worked up again.”

“B-Bucky, just say that it’s a prank. This was all a big prank. I won’t tell anyone. Just put the knife down please.” You try desperately to reason with him. He lets out an unamused grunt.

He began to drag you away from the door. You strained your neck as far as you could to keep the pressure from the knife as minimal as possible.

“You weren’t supposed to find out. Now it’s all ruined. Fuck. Fuuuck!” He growled. Clearly enraged he started to grapple you down to the floor.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You whimpered, tears oozing from the corners of your eyes. Rolling down your cheeks in huge streaks.

“You don’t get it. You never noticed me. All I wanted was for you to notice me. I just had to grease the wheels a little bit, put on a show to make you see…that I’m the guy for you.” He looked crazed. He moved the knife from your neck to your cheek. He caressed it against your cheeks like a lover's hand.

“Bucky please…put down the knife.”

“You’re misunderstanding me, you’re trying to run away! That’s why I have the knife because you need to listen to me. You always listen to the guy with the biggest tool in the room huh? You thought I was Tony. Does he call you up at night a lot or something? Huh?!”

You were just whimpering as he ranted above you. The blunt side of the knife was pressed against your cheek, the shiny metal reflecting into your eyes.

“Well you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” The look in Bucky’s eyes was primal, like he was no longer a man. The charming smile from before was now warped and too large, his lips curling to show his teeth and gums.

“You’re scaring me. Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hurt you? I would never.” He said, not moving the knife from your face. “I’m your boyfriend now. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.”

He brought the knife down from your cheek slowly, the sharp tip dragging down your neck. He began to slice the top button off your nightgown.

“Now, you made such beautiful noises for me before. Let me hear you scream, Pumpkin.”

[sycamorelibrary754]

Merry Christmas

Summary: It’s the most wonderful time of the year. You and Natasha are off to the annual Stark Christmas Party. Little does the team know that a special surprise awaits them.

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Natasha x reader, Avengers x reader (platonic).

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is part 2 to Happy Thanksgiving! I recommend reading it first, but it can be read as a stand-alone story as well. I hope you enjoy!

“Be down in a minute, malyshka!” Natasha called from the bedroom. 

You were standing in the cozy kitchen, savoring spoonfuls of creamy peanut butter straight from the jar, drizzled with rich chocolate sauce. You jokingly referred to it as your "homemade Reese's." It was your first pregnancy craving, prompting Nat to rush to the corner grocery store at 2 am to procure the duo of ingredients.

"No worries!" You were all set for Tony's yearly Christmas gathering at the compound. Clad in a stunning green Sequin-Lace Halter Twist-Neck Jumpsuit, your tiny baby bump added an extra glow to the outfit.

Natasha's arrival was announced by the confident click of her high heels. A few moments later, she appeared in a stunning, sleek red midi dress with a scoop-back design, perfectly accentuating her figure.

"Wow, Nat, you look absolutely stunning in red. It's definitely your color," you complimented.

Her smirk grew as she put on her earrings, 'So, you're choosing it over the black?' she teased.

"I never said that, did I?" with a cheeky wink.

"Is the little one loving the homemade Reese’s?" she said, grabbing her clutch.

Absolutely!" I exclaimed, setting aside the tempting chocolate and peanut butter. "How about we whip up some delicious fudge tomorrow?

"Is it because the baby has such a sweet tooth?" Nat playfully teased.

"Absolutely," you giggled coyly.

"Whatever the baby wants, I guess," she said as she enveloped you in a warm embrace, then leaned over to plant a tender kiss on your belly.

"Are you ready to drop the baby bomb tonight?" Patting Nat's head affectionately.

“I'm feeling a bit nervous," she confessed, standing upright. "I remember how everyone reacted when they learned about Clint's family. I can't help but wonder how they'll take this news.

“They will embrace their roles as the wonderful aunts and uncles they were meant to be,” you said, grabbing your wife's hand. “Plus, announcing it with the Christmas crackers is a cute idea.”

"I hope so," she whispered before planting a gentle kiss on your lips. 

Can you believe Yelena still hasn't spilled the beans?” you asked.

"Oh, that's because I warned her that if she told anyone, I would make her run with me every morning at 5 am until the baby is born," Natasha explained.

“Well played,” you replied, high-fiving your wife. 

Thank you," she smiled. "Now, come on, let's go and get into the holiday spirit.

*^~^*

As you drove to the compound, the snowflakes delicately blanketed the landscape, creating a picturesque scene of holiday cheer. Each house you passed was adorned with shimmering Christmas lights, casting a warm, enchanting glow upon the neighborhood. You reached out to hold Natasha's hand, your fingers naturally intertwining as she pressed a tender kiss to the back of your hand, savoring the moment.

Upon your arrival at the compound, a rush of inviting warmth enveloped us as you both stepped into the lobby. Natasha brushed the delicate snowflakes from your hair and coat, her caring touch bringing a sense of comfort. Together, you made your way onto the elevator, where the voice of FRIDAY greeted us, creating a tranquil atmosphere as we continued our journey.

“Ladies, Merry Christmas, and welcome to the annual Stark Christmas party!”

“Merry Christmas, FRIDAY. How’s the party so far?” You asked as the elevator hum carried you up to the living quarters.

“The festivities are in full swing. Mr. Stark is treating the guests to a medley of lively and heartwarming Christmas carols,” FRIDAY explained.

"Of course he is," you chuckled.

“He only plays that baby grand after a few drinks," Nat added. "After our month-long covert op in Romania, we flew back, and he decided to mark the occasion with a tipsy performance of ABBA’s Dancing Queen.”

"Ah, I can't believe I missed it!" you groaned, pretending to be disappointed.

As the elevator doors slid open, the vibrant red and green decorations instantly caught your eye, along with the magnificent 12-foot-tall Noble Fir Christmas tree that stood proudly in the heart of the common area. It was evident that Pepper had poured her heart into adorning the tree, carefully draping it in an array of colored lights and delicate silver and gold ornaments. The festive ambiance filled the air, evoking a sense of warmth and holiday cheer.

"Look who's here - the Romanoff's have arrived!" Clint cheered as his kids eagerly ran over to greet you and Natahsa.

As Nate leaped into your wife's embrace, you welcomed Lila and Cooper with warm hugs. Each time you saw the Barton kids, it became apparent that they had grown a little more. Banner and Cho made carrying a child that would be a combination of both your and Natasha's genes possible. Observing the striking resemblance of Clint and Laura's children to their parents, you eagerly anticipated discovering which traits your little plum would inherit from each of you.

Natasha leaned in and planted a kiss on Nathaniel's cheek. "How's my little namesake?" she grinned. "Have you been practicing those punch and kick combinations I taught you?

"Practicing the what?" Laura asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” Natasha flashed a sly smile as Nate burst into laughter.

"You both look amazing! The green and red combination is really working for you," Clint said.

Thanks! I have to say that your Christmas sweater is quite lovely. I really dig Rudolph's glowing nose." You don't see that very often!” You teased.

“Hey, the Barton’s are the cream of the crop when it comes to ugly Christmas sweaters.”

“Clearly,” Nat stated.

"I’ll take your coats," Cooper graciously offered.

"Wow, thank you. What a gentleman," you said as you handed him yours and Natasha’s pea coats.

Looking around, you spotted Wanda adding the final decorations to trays of delicious Christmas cookies. You put a hand on Nat’s shoulder and motioned toward the kitchen. She gave you a quick nod as you meandered over to the counter. 

"Wanda, Wanda, Wanda... What do we have here?" you inquired with a sly grin.

Y/N! It's so good to see you," she exclaimed, her arms wrapping around me in one of her signature warm and comforting hugs that I always loved. "This is my parents' famous Christmas cookie recipe," she proudly announced, holding up a worn and stained piece of paper. "I managed to convince Tony and Pepper to let me take charge of the desserts this year. So, we've got batches of freshly baked cookies, the decadent Viennese torte chilling in the fridge, and the pumpkin pie just coming out to cool on the counter.

Wow, you've been keeping busy," you said with a smile. "Is there anything I can do to lend a hand?

"Sure, you can take a cookie and go mingle. I'll be finished in a few minutes," she said, handing you a delightful cookie shaped like Santa. As you bit into it, you were amazed. It was the most delicious cookie you had ever tasted.

"Wow, Wanda! This is fantastic!" you exclaimed excitedly.

"That's exactly why I'll always champion homemade goodies over store-bought ones. Now, come on, go join the fun," she said, playfully shooing you away.

You turned around to see your wife, elegantly positioned by the fireplace, conversing with Steve with a champagne glass. As you began crossing the room, Kate and Lucky, adorned in festive attire, intercepted your path.

"Y/N! It's been ages! How have you been?" Kate exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement.

"Hey, Kate! It's great to see you and Lucky enjoying the party," while giving the Golden Retriever some affectionate pets.

"Kate joyfully exclaimed, "Yes, say hello to Santa Paws and Mrs. Claus!" Sadly, we can't seem to find Yelena. She's our dedicated elf." Kate glanced around the room with concern.

Wait, Yelena is actually dressed as an elf?!" Your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, that's fantastic.”

“Yeah, if you see her, will you send her our way? We’re supposed to take the photo for our holiday card tonight,” Kate explained.

"Nothing would make me happier," you said with a smirk and a hand resting on Kate's shoulder.

You bid farewell to the young archer and her loyal pup before rejoining your wife.

"Hey detka," Nat greeted, gently wrapping her arm around your waist.

"Y/N, I was just telling your wife that she needs to find her holiday spirit and come Christmas caroling with us next week," Steve stated.

"Natasha singing? I'm not convinced that would do wonders for the community's morale," you quipped.

Nat giggled at the remark, "Says the woman who performs one-woman tributes to Harry Styles in the shower?"

“Hey" you interrupted, "I'll have you know that my performance of Sign of the Times has been receiving high praise.

A moment later, Tony and Pepper joined your little group, with Morgan walking alongside them.

"Hey there, Romanoffs! You've got to taste this amazing Hot Buttered Rum," Tony exclaimed.

I adore Hot Buttered Rum, but I'm in the mood for some sparkling cider tonight," you explained. "I bet Nat would enjoy some, though. Don't you think, sweetheart?”

"Sure," she said, grabbing the glass from Tony's hand. Steve looked back at you curiously.

As you looked down at Morgan, who was sitting on the cozy ottoman next to the crackling fireplace, you couldn't help but feel a deep connection. Ever since you discovered that you were expecting a baby, your heart has been inexplicably drawn to children in a way you had never experienced before.

"Hey there, cutie!" you exclaimed to the young Stark. "You're looking lovely tonight," as you crouched down to her eye level.

"Thank you, Aunt Y/N," she said with a big grin.

“Are you getting excited for Christmas?" you inquired. "You're at the top of Santa's nice list this year!

“Really?!” Morgan squealed.

"Definitely! I have a feeling the man in red will bring you some amazing surprises this year," you winked.

Hey, did you hear that, Daddy? Aunt Y/N just told me that I'm at the very top of the nice list!

“I sure did, squirt. I didn’t realize Aunt Y/N was so tight with St. Nick,” Tony said, eyeing you coyly.

"Of course, we're on a first-name basis. I'm amazed you're not," you said with a smirk, looking at the billionaire. You had a strong bond with Tony, treating him like a brother, but you couldn't resist teasing him.

Trust me, Mrs. Romanoff," Tony said with a smirk. "I'm way closer to Santa than you are.

“Do you have a direct line to the North Pole?” You countered.

"Are you getting milk and cookies flown in from Holland? You know those are his absolute favorites," Tony remarked, giving you a knowing look.

"Alright, that's enough," your wife said as she touched your shoulders from behind. "You both know Santa. You both have giant egos. Merry Christmas," Nat mocked. "Come on, Tony, let's grab some hors d'oeuvres for our better halves. I'll be right back, detka," she said, leading the billionaire toward the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but admire Natasha as she walked away. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at you with all the love in the world. You just about melted right there in front of the fireplace. Snapping out of your love daze, you noticed Pepper grinning at you.

“What?” you asked.

"Oh, nothing. I just can’t help but notice how glowing you look tonight," Pepper said as Morgan pulled her away towards Clint’s kids, while Steve strolled away to join Bucky in conversation with Rhodes.

"Hey, psst... psst!" a voice suddenly whispered.

You suddenly spun around just in time to see a styrofoam snowball hurtling towards your face. With lightning-fast reflexes, you snatched it out of the air smoothly.

"Good catch," a Russian voice exclaimed.

"Yelena, where are you?" You glanced around, but couldn't see my sister-in-law anywhere.

"Over here!" she called out, peeking from behind the towering seven-foot snowman beside the pool table.

"Aww, you look absolutely adorable as an elf," you giggled.

Yelena's voice was barely audible as she uttered, "If you weren't pregnant with my niece or nephew, you would be hanging upside down from the rafters right now."

"Do you know that Kate and Lucky are looking for you?" you asked.

“Why do you think I’m hiding behind the enormous snowman? Kate Bishop forced me to dress in this saccharin American Christmas costume, and now she wants photographic evidence of it.” Yelena said.

"Because she loves you, silly," she said with a smile, arms crossed over her chest.

"Dinner time, detka. Let's go," Natasha called out and then abruptly halted, bursting into laughter at the sight of her sister.

“Tred carefully, sestra,” Yelena threatened. 

Nope, I'm loving this. Isn't this the new mission suit attire?" she said, playfully tapping the bell hanging from her elf hat. "Maybe we can convince Stark to level up this outfit with some Widow Bites action.

“Do you have a death wish?” Yelena sneered.

“Come on, you adorable elf, it’s time for dinner,” you say as you place an arm around your best friend’s shoulder.

*^~^*

As you sat next to your wife at the elegant Astoria Grand Giovani dining table, the soft touch of Natasha's hand sent a gentle warmth through you. You turned to her and caught her shy smile; her cheeks tinged with a rosy, festive blush.

Pepper rose from her seat beside Tony at the head of the lavishly decorated holiday table. With warmth in her voice and a genuine smile, she addressed the gathered guests. "Before we savor this delectable holiday spread, I want to express our deep gratitude for every one of you being here," she said, gently clasping Tony's hand. "Every person in this room understands the preciousness of life, and we cherish every moment together. We want you to know how much we love you, and we wish you all a Merry Christmas."

"Cheers!" Thor exclaimed a few seats away, raising his glass as clinking filled the table.

The festive Christmas feast brought an abundance of delightful dishes to savor. The centerpiece was a perfectly roasted turkey, surrounded by tempting trimmings. Freshly baked bread, creamy mashed potatoes, and garden-fresh vegetables, delicately roasted and complemented with balsamic vinegar, graced the table. Laughter filled the air as the group indulged in cheerful conversation and shared a medley of lighthearted, albeit incredibly corny, jokes.

As the evening progressed, pregnancy mood swings began to intensify. Amidst the gathering, a wave of emotion washed over you as you and your extended family relished the holiday season together.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Carol's eyes held a deep sense of concern as she gazed at you from across the table.

Oh, yeah," you say, dabbing at the corner of your eyes with a napkin. "I'm fine.

"The holidays always tug at her heartstrings," Natasha covered, resting her head on your shoulder.

After your delicious dinner, you assisted Wanda in setting up the dessert spread. Placing the Christmas cookies in the center, you carefully arranged the Viennese torte and the pumpkin pie on either side. As the evening progressed, you passed around coffee and dessert wine; all enjoying the company and the sweet treats.

The room was filled with the cozy warmth of full bellies and slightly sleepy eyes as the group relaxed in the living room. Soft, enchanting Christmas music filled the air, creating the perfect backdrop for the kids' lively discussions about their Christmas wishes and what they hoped Santa would bring them this year.

"Alright, Kate Bishop, let's hurry up with this photo. I can't wait to change into my pajamas," Yelena declared as she reluctantly rose from the couch.

You got it! Stay right there. Come here, Lucky," Kate called out as the dog happily bounded over. "Vision, could you snap the photo for us?

"Of course, Ms. Bishop," he said, confidently taking the Canon EOS R-50 from the archer's hands.

“It is customary to say cheese before a picture, but since it is Christmas time, perhaps you should say mistletoe?” Vision inquired.

"Just take the picture, you overgrown toaster," Yelena said dryly, a hint of impatience in her voice.

Kate's voice echoed through the room, 'Mistletoe!'

"Hey, we're getting one of these cards, right?" you eagerly looked at your wife.

“I had Kate put us down for two,” she smirked.

*^~^*

As darkness descended, you leaned back and rested your tired head on Nat's comforting lap, feeling the soothing sensation of her fingers gently running through your hair.

Natasha glanced at her watch, noting the late hour. "Are you ready to drop the baby bomb?"

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I'll grab the Christmas crackers," you declared, getting up from the sofa.

"Hey everyone, Y/N and I have a surprise for you," your wife nervously announced as you handed out the gold and silver novelties to the team.

"Christmas crackers? Seriously? I was expecting something a bit more extravagant… Oww!" Tony complained as Pepper playfully pinched his arm.

You smiled nervously, your heart racing as you reached for Natasha. The snap of the festive crackers echoed merrily across the room. Clint's eyes lit up as he was the first to reach inside and carefully remove the tiny gift from the cracker. The little round ceramic white ornament, delicately tied to a vibrant red ribbon, appeared in his hand, reflecting the warm glow of the holiday lights. Lila, Cooper, and Nate, their faces filled with excitement and curiosity, eagerly huddled around their dad to get a glimpse as Clint slowly turned the ornament to read the inscription, a moment of joy and togetherness shared by the entire family.

"Uncle Clint?" he read, looking up at Natasha in complete shock.

Sam couldn't believe it and shouted, "No way!"

As Wanda, Carol, and Kate gazed upon their unique ornaments, they couldn't help but shout a collective scream of joy. Each ornament proudly displayed its name, followed by the cherished title of "Aunt."

Thor exclaimed, 'This is joyous news!'

Pepper jumped to her feet and wrapped you in a bear hug, while Laura did the same with Natasha.

“How far along are you?” Wanda asked.

“Almost three months,” Yelena cut in.

"Wait, you knew?! Why didn't you tell me?" Kate yelled, slapping her girlfriend on the arm.

“Because I want to sleep in!” Yelena shouted.

"Nat, I'm thrilled for you," Steve exclaimed, gently kissing her cheek.

Bucky enveloped you in a warm embrace, planting a soft kiss on your head.

"Are you ready to take on the role of Uncle Bucky?" You lock eyes with him.

His face froze in sheer panic, like a deer caught in the headlights. “Oh my God.”

“You’ll be great, Buck,” you chuckled. 

Bruce and Helen wrapped Natasha in a warm, heartfelt embrace, simultaneously holding her close from both sides.

Helen turned to you with a look of relief. "Now that everyone knows, we can openly discuss your pregnancy," she said. "Have you been taking your prenatal vitamins regularly?

"Don't forget, you've got an appointment on Friday," Bruce said.

Without a second thought, you replied, "Yes and yes," as Natasha leaned in to gently kiss your cheek, followed by another on your belly.

Tony swaggered up to you with his trademark smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Bracing yourself for one of his classic Stark one-liners or a cheeky joke, you were entirely taken off guard when he unexpectedly enveloped you in a comforting and heartfelt hug.

“Congratulations, Romanoff,” Tony said. “It looks like you do know Santa best.” 

[canonsinthehead]

so hows the night life in the villages? which is the best and worse? 😸😸

Glad you asked... there are few topics ni the answer ill go deeper in another post but i hope yall get the picture...

Naruto Headcanons - Ranking Nightlife in Different Villages (from best to worse)

1- Kumogakure (THE Party City)

Obviously Kumo takes the first place for its unmatched nightlife culture. It is alive at night and very welcoming of foreigners, some people make a whole trip to Kumo just to party.

There are sooooo many nightclubs of different types. Hip hop, Pop or Western etc. Kumo is known for being the only nation to have stripclubs. other countries, always claim to be more conservative in that area. it ties into the more liberal/accepting expression of sexuality (especially from women).

everything is intertwined when you look up the country's music history. Many famous artists strated in nightclubs.

The city lives at night, many sports clubs are operating during dark hours and inviting the night owls to join in. Along this, you can take all types of classes/courses taking place at night if clubbing is not your cup of tea.

Kumo is so diverse, there is a district/area or stores/businesses for all types of preferences, interests or way of life. Are you LGBT, plus size, disabled, a salary man, vegan, emo, a sneaker head or whatever it is, you will find a place for taste.

it has become a challenge some residents (and tourists), to make a 6PM to 6AM Challlenge. where it consist of staying awake and indulging in the nightlife until sunrise. it was popularized by an episode of Killer Bee's Showtime where they came up with the concept and has became a legit tourist attraction since theres so much to do

2- Konohagakure (6 to 9 Heaven)

In Konoha, a lot of people have a 9-5 schedule so big part of the village nightlife is centered around "after work" activities. When you go out on weekdays, you will mostly encounter employees trying to unwind after a long workday

regardless there are so many activities to do after the sunset. the most popular are karaoke, hot springs and street food stands.

Konoha's foundation being a mountain, there are many hidden spots hidden in its complex foundation. when look over it, you can observe spots of hundred of spotlights all over the city because small goups loves to meetup in various places and just chill together

the largest cinemas are located in Konoha. it one of the few places where you can go watch movies from other nations to the exceptions of Kiri for their heavy censorships laws and Suna for being in a different language.

Cabaret clubs are huge in Konoha.

you can find many 24/7 ramen shops and Internet Cafes

The comedy scene in Konoha is big. off course it doesnt match Kumo's but Konoha produced many well known comedians. All the "Comedy Open mic nights" are to die for.

Konoha scored high also for being a welcoming nation and embraces tourist/foreigners with open minds.

3- Iwagakure (Rock 'n' Roll)

if you are looking for a good music concert to attend. especially for rock and indie music.

it scored lower because many of those locations (to party) and the culture surrounding them are sometimes hard to find

mixed with the nightlife, Iwa has a strong adult entertainment industry. There are countless soaplands and burlesque show, again only if you can find them

(Honorable Mention) 3.5 - Modern Kirigakure (Work in Progress)

On the way to become like Konoha (along with their own sauce) but is not there yet

outside of the capital, they still operate like the previous system like the rest of the country of water.

4- Sunagakure (Organized Events)

The nightlife of Suna is more made of organized events where mass of people attent. The largest venues happen on Fridays since there are a lage diversity of shecdules among the population but everthing stops from Friday night to Sunday morning.

A typical night activity is enjoying tea, there are hundreds of tea stands across the country, sometimes even in the middle of nowhere for travelers during their long journey in the desert. they along serve flavourful whiskeys and tasty snacks. It is the #1 socializing spot.

The food is to die for. The culinary scene of Suna is unmatched, with all the ingredients natives to the regions it gives unique meal you cant find anywhere else. there are many restaurants of all types open until the early hours of the morning.

Live performing is a very prevelant part of Suna's nightlife,

A lot of night activities are meant to be enjoyed in large numbers especially among families since many of them are large.

the problem is that Suna is really weary of tourists/foreigners, so accessing certain areas, restaurants or pubs may be denied because they require invitations. That would limit your acess to tea houses and restaurants in the main city/touristic areas where the inflation is crazzzzyyyyyyy for outsiders. Also the language barrier doesnt help...

the best deal would be to be invited among someone's familiy and celebrate with them, it's just as good as going out

5- Old Kirigakure (Dangerous Territories ahead...)

It is advised for regular citizen (especiall women and children) to stay inside as soon as the sun sets. They say the freaks come out at night, all criminals and gang members come out after nightfall. they occupate various pubs and bars. The city is dual face because it is literraly re-birthed at night for a whole different aura to plague the city at night.

most illegal activities take place at night.

there are a lot of brothels operating under criminal leadership. along with illegal/dubious boxing matches and fight clubs where gambling happens.

Gambling is no joke, it is a serious widespread practice where you can witness (and participate with) players with dices on street corners.

At all time, territories are clearly separated, either by criminal affiliations, ethnicities or caste levels. cross it and will likely pay it with your life.

as a foreigner, if you fit the physical attributes of the local men, you could go unnoticed for some time but it adviced not to even try since you may be cooked when people ask for your paperwork to enter certain spaces. also even if you make and get "accepted", the wrong gesture, word could lead to a misunderstanding and escalate into violence

Kirigakure is male centered society. 90% of the people outside at night are male. many levels of society caters to them hence why a lot of adult males without criminal affialition have no problem going out at night to drink their souls away.

you can witness public intercourse

going on the previous point, there is a deep (but hidden) male LGBT culture running in Kiri. many of them are affiliated with various gangs or crimelords like Gato. Some would suggest that homosexuality is lowkey normalized among gangs (do the homie) but it will never be confirmed. So if you know where to look, are determined (crazy) enough, and looking for a hookup with a tattoed muscular dude with a questionable (dead) body count, then go ahead.

Ironically, the gigolo scene industry is as large as female adult entertainment/prostitution in Kiri. they are not going to tell you that most of them are gang members who fell from grace/punished for making mistakes or literal human trafficking.

6- Amegakure (DO NOT TRESSPASS)

RAVES. The rave culture is unmatched. If you are looking for hardcore parties with moshpits and loud eletronic music you are looking at the right place.

The night culture is really the bulk of what there is to do in Ame, its residents uses thoses parties and alcohol to escape for the reality of their daily lives.

Like everything in the country, it is so hard to acces and it doesnt like outsiders not even a little bit. most of them are not allowed to even enter the city's walls.

There you can find the HARDEST drugs in the entire world. Addictions is a real issue in Ame but when i mean hard i mean amnesia (you forget your life before you consumed it) type of hard

if you go there, you 10000% getting robbed.

thanks yall for your request, that was fun to do. hope the formatting is not too much.

shoutout to @getyourmindrightson, @oceanjenna! thanks for the support.

[grayhyacinth]

A Tea Party

Is this another Gravity Falls fan fic?! I've been hooked on Gravity Falls (again). Anyways, enjoy something fun!

Links: ao3, tumblr, masterlist

“One order of our hotcakes! Coming right up!” you call out with a wide smile, effortlessly weaving between tables and customers. The Greasy’s Diner is packed to the brim, the clatter of cutlery and hum of conversation creating a symphony of Friday evening energy. The smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the sweet scent of syrup as you glide past a table where a stack of pancakes is being devoured by a group of teenagers.

The diner itself, a quaint train car labeled "Gravity Falls 1883," is a relic of the town’s history, and tonight, it’s alive with the warmth and nostalgia of simpler times. The worn leather booths are filled with families and friends enjoying classic American comfort food—hamburgers, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, soda, and milkshakes, all made to satisfy both hunger and soul.

Lazy Susan, the heart and soul of the diner, oversees everything with her usual charm, her one perpetually closed eye giving her an endearing, slightly mysterious air. She’s been running this place for as long as anyone can remember, and her infectious laughter can be heard even over the din of the crowded room.

“Hey!” you shout over the noise as you approach the open window to the kitchen. “Got another ticket for ya!” You bend down a metal wire to pin the slip of paper, letting it snap back up with a satisfying twang.

“Thanks, (Y/n)!” The chef, whose name you’ve yet to recall, shoots you a playful finger gun, his other hand expertly flipping an omelet on the stove. The kitchen is a sensory overload of sizzling fats, bubbling sauces, and the constant rhythm of plates being prepped and passed out.

“No problem, dude,” you reply, smirking as you return the finger gun, before making your way back to Lazy Susan. The older woman is deep in conversation with a couple at the counter, their discussion sprinkled with the latest gossip from Gravity Falls. You catch snippets of their chatter—a local kid has gone missing, and the only clue left behind is a tiny red shoe fit for a doll.

You roll your eyes internally. Probably just some runaway who ruined the carpet with too much of playable slime, you think, stifling a grin. Parents can be scarier than any of the weird creatures around here.

“Hey there, ladies!”

Your attention snaps to the front door just as you reach for a glass to prep another milkshake. A grizzled old man saunters in, his hand raised high in a wave that’s a little too enthusiastic for someone his age. He’s got two kids in tow, and his black suit, with the missing fez, oozes with charisma—or at least, his version of it.

The boy, who you quickly recognize as Dipper, follows behind, rubbing his elbow, clearly embarrassed by the old man’s antics. The girl, Mabel, matches her great-uncle’s energy, waving confidently at the diner patrons as they find an empty booth.

You set down the rag and milkshake glass, grabbing three menus instead. The large red letters reading "Greasy’s Diner" stand out on the covers, framed by retro designs that scream classic Americana.

As you approach the booth, you paste on your best customer-pleasing smile. “Evening, Stan!” you say brightly, handing him a menu before turning to the twins. “How are you, Mabel?” You purposely ignore Dipper, even going as far as handing his menu to Mabel.

Dipper’s mood shifts the moment he spots you. He straightens up, as if caught off guard by your presence. “(Y/N)—” he start.

Mabel, ever the bubbly one, beats him to it. “(Y/n)! You’re working today!”

You smile back, genuinely pleased to see her. “Yep. Friday nights are usually the busiest. Wouldn’t want to miss out on the money.”

Stan cuts in with a wide grin, his voice booming across the diner. "Why, I like my money like I like my pancakes! Stacked high and never touched by anyone but me!" He chuckles, clearly pleased with his joke, and then adds, “Only I know how to properly appreciate a good stack!”

You laugh, though it’s a bit forced, but you appreciate the effort. He’s still a paying customer, you remind yourself, though you can’t help but find some amusement in his antics. “So, a stack of fresh, hot pancakes for you, then?”

“You betcha!” Stan says, swinging his arm proudly.

You turn your attention to the twins, holding your notepad ready. “And what about you two?” you ask, curiosity lacing your voice as you wait for their orders.

Dipper glances up at you, his confidence returning just a bit. “I’ll have the, uh… the usual,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a hint of something in his voice.

Mabel beams, clearly more interested in the interaction between you and her brother than the menu. Her eyes darts between the two of you. “I’ll have the biggest milkshake you can make!” she chirps, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

As you jot down the orders, you can’t help but notice the way Dipper’s gaze lingers on you, almost as if he’s trying to figure you out. There’s something different in the air tonight—an unspoken tension that’s annoying.

Walking away, you pin the order slip to the metal wire with a little more force than necessary, the clatter echoes in the busy diner. You try to shake off the strange feeling lingering from Dipper’s gaze, but it nags at you. What’s his problem, anyway?

It’s not the first time Dipper’s actions have left you feeling sidelined. You can’t help but remember the countless instances where his obsession with solving mysteries and spending time with Grunkle Ford took precedence over his promises to you. One memory, in particular, stands out:

A few weeks ago, you, Dipper, and Mabel had planned a simple day out together—nothing special, just some time to hang out, grab ice cream, and maybe catch a movie. It was supposed to be a break from all the supernatural chaos that constantly surrounded Gravity Falls.

But then, just as you were about to head out, Dipper received a call from Grunkle Ford. There was some new anomaly that needed investigating, and in an instant, Dipper’s focus shifted entirely. “I’m really sorry, but Ford needs me for this,” he had said, already halfway out the door before you could respond. “We’ll hang out later, I promise!”

“Later” never came. Dipper had spent the entire day with Ford, lost in whatever mystery they were unraveling. You wouldn’t even had mind his behavior, if he bothered to invite you!

You had tried to brush it off, telling yourself that Dipper didn’t mean any harm, that he just got caught up in the moment. But it wasn’t the first time this had happened. There were other days, other plans that had fallen because of some mystery that he had to solve with Ford. And it wasn’t just the cancellations. Even when you did something thoughtful for him—like covering for him during one of his late-night research sessions or helping him decode a cryptic passage in the journal—he rarely seemed to acknowledge it. There were no thanks, no gestures to return the favor. It was as if he took your support for granted.

Over time, those small slights and unfulfilled promises built up, leaving you feeling more like a convenient sidekick than a true partner in his adventures. You had your own interests, your own life, but it often felt like Dipper only noticed you when it served his latest quest.

You huffed loudly, to no one in particular, and busied yourself by filling up three glasses with water and ice, but your mind keeps drifting back to Dipper. Maybe he’s just trying to get under your skin, like usual. You roll your eyes at the thought, but the annoyance doesn’t fade.

“How’s the shift, sweetie?” An older man beckons you over, his warm smile instantly putting you at ease.

You return the smile, walking over to him with a friendly nod. You place the cups on a round silver tray, the ice clinking gently in the glass cups. “It’s busy, but that’s how I like it. How about you? How’s your evening going?”

The man chuckles, adjusting his cap. His finger laces around a mug of dark fizz, soda you presume. He brings it to his lips for a sip. “Oh, just fine. I’ve been coming to this diner since before you were born, I reckon. Always a pleasure to see a new face behind the counter. You’re doing a great job, kid.”

You laugh softly, leaning on the counter as you chat with him. “Well, thanks! I’m just trying to keep up with the pace around here. Greasy’s is a pretty lively spot.”

As you continue your pleasant conversation, you notice the older man’s eyes light up as he talks about his favorite memories of the diner. You find yourself genuinely enjoying the exchange, smiling and laughing as the workday stress melts away.

However, unbeknownst to you, Dipper’s expression darkens as he watches you and the older man chatting. He’s hands are clenched a little too tightly, and his jaw is set in a way that’s impossible to ignore.

Just as the older man begins telling a story, you hear a commotion coming from the booth where Dipper and his family are seated. Mabel is leaning across the table, whispering something to Stan with a mischievous grin. Her brother glances at them, his eyes narrowing slightly, and suddenly, you have the distinct feeling they’re plotting something.

Your suspicion is confirmed when Mabel raises her hand, calling you over. “(Y/n)! Can we get some extra napkins? I think we’re gonna need them!”

You raise an eyebrow, but nod, grabbing a handful of napkins from the dispenser and the round tray of ice cold water. As you approach their table, you notice Stan looking far too innocent, while Dipper avoids eye contact altogether, staring intently at the salt shaker as if it holds the secrets of the universe.

“Here you go,” you say, handing the napkins to Mabel. She beams up at you, but there’s a glint in her eye that makes you hesitate. You smoothly slide the cups of water to each customer. Something’s definitely up.

You glance at Stan, who’s grinning behind his menu, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. The con-man is a walking prankster, and with Mabel involved, there’s no telling what they’ve cooked up. Dipper finally peeks up at you, his cheeks slightly flushed, but he quickly looks away again when he catches your gaze

“Thanks, (Y/n)! You’re the best,” Mabel chirps, her tone a little too sweet. Before you can respond, she "accidentally" knocks over her cup of water, sending a cascade of ice cubes and liquid spilling across the table—right onto Dipper’s lap.

Dipper jumps up with a startled yelp, grabbing the napkins to frantically blot at the spreading wet patch on his pants. “Mabel!” he hisses, his face turning a deep shade of red.

“Oh no! Dipper, I’m so sorry!” Mabel exclaims, though the grin tugging at her lips betrays her true feelings.

Stan bursts out laughing, slapping the table with delight. “That’s my girl! Good one, Mabel!”

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh, but the sight of Dipper, usually so composed and serious, flailing around like that is too much. A snort escapes before you can stop it.

“Oh, so you think this is funny, huh?” Dipper snaps, glaring at you, but there’s no real anger in his voice—just frustration mixed with embarrassment.

“Maybe a little,” you tease, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “Need some help, or do you got this?”

Dipper’s eyes narrow as he grabs a handful of napkins, blotting at the mess. “I’m fine, thanks,” he mutters, though the wet stain on his shirt suggests otherwise.

Mabel, still giggling, tries to cover for her brother. “Come on, Dipper, it’s not that bad. Besides, maybe (Y/n) can help you clean up. You know, since she’s so good at her job.”

You’re about to retort when Stan cuts in, still chuckling. “Yeah, yeah. And maybe after that, you two can work out all that weird tension between ya. It’s like watching a soap opera in here!”

Your cheeks heat up, and you shoot Stan a glare, but he just leans back, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable his comment made you feel. Dipper, on the other hand, looks like he wants to crawl under the table and disappear.

Trying to regain your composure, you grab a clean towel from the counter and toss it to Dipper. “Here, use this. And next time, try not to wear your drink.”

Dipper catches the towel, his expression softening slightly as he mumbles, “Thanks.”

You nod, turning to leave, but not before catching a glimpse of the small, appreciative smile he’s trying to hide.

As the evening continues, you find yourself busy with the usual rush of orders, but your mind keeps drifting back to the incident with Dipper. You can’t quite shake the image of his flustered expression or the way his eyes softened when he thanked you. It’s confusing and… uncomfortable? You couldn’t quite place a finger on it.

You glance over at the Pines family every now and then, noticing how Mabel happily slurps her confetti milkshake, chattering animatedly about a theater show she wants to see, while Stan devours his stack of pancakes. Dipper, on the other hand, seems quiet. He’s eating his burger, but his gaze occasionally flickers toward you, as if he’s lost in thought.

When the dinner rush finally starts to wind down, you take a moment to catch your breath, leaning against the counter. The atmosphere in the diner has mellowed out, with fewer customers and the soft hum of the radio becoming more apparent. You’re just about to head back to the kitchen when you notice Dipper standing up from the booth, his eyes scanning the diner before they land on you.

He hesitates, looking like he’s about to say something, but then he glances at Mabel and Stan, who are still engrossed in their meals. With a deep breath, Dipper makes his way over to you.

“Hey, (Y/n),” Dipper greets you, leaning against the counter. His hands are fidgeting with themselves. “So, have you heard the latest rumors about the missing kid?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You mean the one about the abducted children and the tiny red shoe they found at the latest crime scene?”

Dipper nods. “Yeah, that’s the one. I was actually going to check it out tonight. You know, see if I can figure out what’s really going on.” He pulls out a journal with the number three, flipping to a page. He flips it around and brings it up to your face. “You see, Ford and I took a sample from the scene and we think it has to do with this…”

You glance at the page in the journal, which features a cute drawing of a Victorian style doll with a pair of cartoonish eyes. “The doll: ‘Polly?’ What’s that supposed to be?”

Dipper leans in, his expression serious. “The story goes that Polly was once a beloved toy of a child who went missing years ago. Since then, she’s been wandering the town seeking lonely children to kidnap, hoping that one of them will love her.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And how exactly does she lure these kids?”

Dipper continues, his voice low. “It’s said that Polly’s presence is accompanied by a soft, haunting melody that only children can hear. She creates illusions of a warm, inviting home and plays with them until they trust her. Once they’re close enough, she tries to entice them to follow her and stay with her forever.” He clears his throat and notes quickly, “Though, Grunkle Ford never actually saw Polly. He only heard rumors and descriptions of her from other creatures he’s encounter.”

Scoffing, you place a hand on your hips and take a step back. You try to keep your tone casual, but a hint of sarcasm slips through. “Polly sounds like something straight out of a horror movie, Dipper. Who knows, maybe those monsters actually lied to Ford? Maybe she doesn’t even exist.”

Dipper’s voice raises in annoyance. He’s taken aback by your unbelief. “It might sound like a cliché, but the evidence we’ve found aligns with the description.” He points exaggerately at the image of the doll. “The missing children reports suggest something unusual is going on. If there’s even a chance that Polly is involved, we need to deal with it.”

You rolled your eyes, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Who’s we? You didn’t need me then, so why do you need me now?”

Your words carry a sharp edge, and Dipper flinches slightly, clearly catching the reference to that time he stood you and Mabel up for monster hunting with Grunkle Ford.

Dipper’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t back down. “I know I ditched you, but this is different. This is about doing what we can to protect people. Don’t you want to protect Gravity Falls?” He waves a hand around at your customers. Their happy faces pangs your heart.

“There is no we in this, Pines,” you snap, shaking your head as you let out a loud, frustrated sigh. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to keep your irritation in check. “Look, I have enough on my plate as it is. I don’t want to get involved in another one of your mystery adventures.” You glance away, making your frustration obvious. “Why don’t you go ask Ford?”

Dipper shifts uncomfortably, his resolve wavering for just a moment before he steels himself. “Ford’s busy with his own stuff, and—look, I know it sounds crazy, but you’ve got a knack for handling these situations,” he insists, his voice firm but pleading. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could help.”

You scoff, crossing your arms and refusing to look at him. “Oh, so now you need me? Where was that when you ditched us for Ford last time?”

Dipper’s face tightens, but he doesn’t back down. “I messed up then, I get it. But this isn’t about the past. It’s about what’s happening right now. We’re dealing with something dangerous, and I need someone I can count on. I need you.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, you can see the sincerity in his eyes—the same eyes that had once dismissed your insecurities about your friendship as unpredictable and unnecessary. It’s infuriating how he can just flip the script when it suits him, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you now that gives you pause.

You let out a heavy breath, still reluctant but sensing the gravity of the situation. “Fine,” you mutter, half-annoyed, half-concerned. “But don’t think this means I’ve forgiven you. And if we end up in another life-threatening situation, you’re on your own, got it?”

Dipper nods, his expression softening with relief. “Got it. And… thanks. I won’t let you down this time. I’ll meet you at the house where the last kid was abducted at midnight”

You roll your eyes, but the slight dip in your guard shows that maybe, just maybe, you’re willing to give him one last chance. You walk away from the counter, feeling the weight of the evening ahead pressing down on you. The clock’s hands tick around the circle, and midnight approaches with relentless inevitability. You’ve already wrapped up your shift at Greasy’s Diner, and now, at home, you’re preparing a backpack filled with adventuring tools: a flashlight, a multi-tool, and a first aid kit. You double-lace your shoes, mentally preparing for whatever challenges the night might bring. The last thing you want is to be caught unprepared.

You glance up at the wall clock; it reads 11:40 PM. A deep dread settles in the pit of your stomach. This was the last thing you wanted to be doing today. With a resigned sigh, you throw on a thick jacket, feeling its weight as a reminder of the cold night ahead. You flick off the lights and check to make sure everything is in order.

Your aunt and uncle, exhausted from the day, had fallen asleep hours earlier. Their snoring from the bedroom reassures you that they’re not likely to wake up anytime soon. You quietly slip out of the house, making sure the door is securely locked behind you.

Outside, the chill of the night air bites at your cheeks as you pull the hood of your jacket up and shove your hands deep into your pockets. The quiet of the neighborhood is both eerie and comforting. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the only sounds are the distant hum of late-night traffic and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees.

You approach a rustic home made entirely of wood, from its walls to its rooftop. It’s wrapped with yellow tape from police officers, warning you to keep out of the crime scene. Beside the home is an old, beat-up vehicle parked in front of a small garage. The paint on the car is scratched and damaged, indicating it’s well-loved. On the small lawn was a pink plastic flamingo. A pair of sunglasses sat on top of it’s large beak.

You wait by the picket fence, hoping the neighbors won’t notice you loitering around. Glancing up at the stars, you notice they twinkle brightly, as if calling out to you.

Finally, Dipper arrives, huffing and puffing as he catches his breath. “You ready?”

You nod, pushing aside your lingering dread. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”

You follow him as he leads the way, your footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path. Dipper ducks beneath the yellow tape, and then holds it higher to allow you to follow suit. The house is old and weather-beaten, with overgrown weeds encroaching on the yard. The dim light from a single streetlamp flickers erratically, casting eerie shadows.

Dipper stops near the front porch and pulls out a small flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness. “We’ll start by checking here. Polly might have left more then just a red shoe behind.” He cracks open the slightly ajar door, it creaks loudly, notifying you of his rusted hinges.

As you both begin your search, the air grows colder, and the silence becomes almost deafening. The occasional creak of the house seems unnaturally loud. You move cautiously, scanning the area for anything out of place.

You approach a pile of toys in the living room, noticing some are faded and worn, while others are oddly pristine. “Hey, Dipper!” You call out to him. As he approaches, you knelt down and pick up plastic toy horse. “It’s like they’ve been left here for a while.

Dipper crouches down and examines them more closely. “Polly might use them to lure children, making it seem like she’s offering friendship.”

Your eyes fall on a small, delicate music box among the toys. Its paint is chipped, but it’s still intact. “This music box could be important. Do you think it’s connected?”

Dipper picks up the music box, turning it over in his hands. “Maybe. The journal mentioned a haunting melody. If this is what Polly uses, it could help.” He tilts it to one side, noticing a handle sticking out of the container. The brown haired boy begins cranking it, slowly and firmly until a melody begins playing.

You and Dipper stand frozen, recognizing the song. The music box’s tune lingering in the air, its hauntingly beautiful melody now accompanied by a ghostly, girlish voice singing softly in your minds. The eerie lyrics resonate with an unsettling charm:

Twinkle, twinkle, little star, follow me, we won’t go far. In the woods where shadows play, come with me, we’ll laugh and sway.

Skip and hop, the night is bright, in the dark, we’ll find delight. Close your eyes, and hear the tune, magic whispers, come real soon.

Twinkle, twinkle, stay with me, in this land of mystery. Through the night, and past the trees, let’s discover what there’s to see.

A shiver runs down your spine, and you glance nervously at Dipper, your throat tightening as a thick lump of fear settles in. “D-Did you hear that?” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Dipper’s face pales as he nods slowly, his eyes wide with apprehension. “Yeah, I heard it. It’s like the song is trying to reach out to us.” He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. His expression is resolute. “Let’s follow the melody.”

You shake your head, vehemently disagreeing with the person you thought was bravely foolish. “Look,” you took a step back and put your hands palm facing towards him. “I’m done with whatever this is. Ghosts? Monsters? Fine. But haunted dolls? Absolutely not. You and your endless mystery adventures can take a hike.” You jab your thumb back toward the door, making it crystal clear that this isn’t your cup of tea.

Dipper’s eyes narrow, his face hardening with determination. “I get that you’re scared, but this isn’t the time to back out. We’ve already started, and if we don’t follow the melody, we might miss a chance to stop whatever Polly’s planning.”

You cross your arms, scowling. “You think you’re so brave, don’t you? Always jumping into the unknown without thinking things through. Maybe you’re used to getting yourself into these messes, but I’ve got my own limits.”

Dipper takes a step closer, his tone sharp. “This isn’t about being brave or foolish. It’s about saving children before they all die.”

You glare at him, frustration clouding your judgement, developing your words into something more raw, more painful. “That’s all you care about, isn’t it? The adventure. The thrill. You’ve never once stopped to think about how this affects the people around you.”

Dipper’s taken aback, his expression faltering for a split second before he quickly recovers. “That’s not true. I care about—”

“About what? About saving the day? About being the hero?” You cut him off, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back. “But what about me, Dipper? What about the fact that every time you drag us into one of your mysteries, we’re the ones who have to pick up the mess? You don’t even care that I’m scared out of my mind right now.”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue, but no words come out. He looks at you, really looks at you, and for a moment, you think he might finally understand. But then he shakes his head, his eyes show a lack of emotion, of empathy. “I do care, but it’s not about what we want or how we feel. It’s about doing what’s right.”

Your heart sinks, the finality of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “Of course,” you say bitterly, turning away from him. “It’s always about solving the mystery.”

Dipper reaches out, as if he wants to say something more, but you step back, avoiding his touch. The silence between you is heavy, filled with everything that’s been left unsaid.

You clench your fists, feeling a mix of anger and something else you can’t quite name. “Fine. But don’t expect me to follow blindly. If we’re doing this, you better have a plan that doesn’t involve us ending up as Polly’s next victims.”

The boy swallows his words, and turns away. “No problem,” Dipper says sarcastically, waving a hand dismissively as he heads towards the back door, the music box in hand. “Follow me. I bet I know where this thing is leading us.”

You both trudge through the dark woods, your flashlights cutting through the shadows that dance ominously on the tree trunks. Dipper had tossed the music box to you, instructing you to wind it up repeatedly. Despite the incessant, irritating melody, there’s something oddly soothing about it, a small comfort amid the tension.

“So,” you call out, peering over Dipper’s shoulder, “where exactly are we headed?”

Dipper is focused on journal 3, which he’s holding with a purple flashlight. The light reveals hidden text, and a small drawing in the corner, depicting field of flowers and a tea party, surrounded by doodles of stars.

He glances at you. “We’re trying to find this.” He points to the vague, almost insignificant drawing. “The rumors claim that Polly in a clearing by a lake.”

“…and you know where this is… how?” you ask, skeptically.

“Intuition,” Dipper replies with a shrug, as if it’s obvious. “But mainly because the music box is guiding us. It’s like a beacon. Without it, we’d be stumbling around blindly.”

You pause in step. Your eyes widen in disbelief. “So, you’re telling me that if we wander around randomly in the forest, we’ll eventually find Polly?”

“That’s the plan!” Dipper grins, looking both confident and a bit foolish.

You scowl, feeling a mix of irritation and reluctant admiration. “Great. So we’re just hoping the music box is as good as you think it is. I suppose if we end up lost or worse, we can thank your ‘intuition’ for it.”

Dipper’s grin falters slightly, but he maintains his proud expression. “We’re in this together now. Just keep winding the music box. We’ll find our way.”

You mutter under your breath, but your grip on the music box tightens. Despite your irritation, you’re almost envious of his lack of doubt. As you both push deeper into the forest, the night seems to close in around you, the eerie melody from the music box being the only grounding normalcy.

Finally, you notice the peaks of flowers emerging from the ground, growing more abundant as you approach. Beyond them, a clearing beside a lake comes into view. Then, your eyes fell onto the tea party that was described in the book.

What catches you off guard is the sight of an elaborate setting, a scene that would ordinarily evoke quaint charm but now strikes you as profoundly unsettling. The long table, set with intricate lace tablecloths, is laden with porcelain teapots, delicate cups, and an array of pastries that seem untouched, as if waiting for guests who will never arrive.

Seated around the table are numerous stuffed animals, each dressed in pastel-colored dresses and suits that shimmer softly in the moonlight. They sport tiny hats and monocles, their glassy eyes reflecting the dim glow of the shining stars. The stuffed animals are arranged as if in the middle of an animated conversation, their poses frozen mid-action—a teddy bear holding a teacup; a bunny poised with a strawberry, glazed scone; a dog with a red bowtie sitting politely; and a duck in a dapper suit, all seemingly caught in a moment of eternal tea-time.

Pastel balloons are tied to the backs of the chairs, their soft, muted colors creating a deceptive air of festivity. The balloons sway gently with the breeze, casting playful shadows that flicker across the scene. The entire setup exudes an air of mock merriment.

However, the true horror reveals itself as you take in the sight of the missing children sitting in between each stuffed animal They are sprawled around the table in a disturbingly serene manner. Their bodies positioned as though they had simply fallen asleep amidst the party. Their heads hang limply to the side, faces expressionless, and their mouths slightly ajar. Not a single noise escaped them as their pale faces barely take in a breath of air. Their clothes, once vibrant with life, now look out of place amidst the cheerful pastel decor.

The air is heavy with an unsettling stillness, and the soft, haunting melody from the music box persists, filling the silence. The children’s passive forms etch themselves into your mind, a haunting image that you know will stay with you.

Your breath hitches. You take a step back, your foot crushing a delicate poppy. “I-I don’t think—” Panic surges up your throat, choking off your breath and words. The sight is overwhelming, and you struggle to process it.

Dipper turns around and looks at you. You can see the frustration in his expression, the way his jaw tightens as he glares at you. “Are you seriously going to bail now?” he snaps, his voice edged with impatience. “We’ve always gotten through everything because we stick together. And now you’re just going to walk away?”

His words cut through the fog of your fear, anchoring you to the present. You glance up at him, seeing the earnest resolve in his eyes. But the sight behind him—the children, so unnaturally still—won’t leave your mind. “Do you see that?! What could your plan possibly do against—” You gesture wildly at the scene, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief. “That?!”

Dipper’s face hardens as he hears your hesitation, and there’s a flash of anger in his eyes. “You think I don’t get it? This is terrifying. But you’re the one person I thought I could count on, and you’re leaving on me when I need you the most?”

His words sting, and you can feel the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you. The sight of the children, so disturbingly still, tugs at your resolve. Your breath hitches again, the overwhelming situation pulling you in different directions.

“You think I don’t understand?” you counter, your voice shaking with fear and frustration. “This is too much! You’re acting like I’m just supposed to—”

Before you can finish, Dipper interrupts, his tone softer but still firm. “Look, I know I’ve messed up. I’ve said and done some things I shouldn’t have. But right now, we need each other.” He ends, confidently.

It’s so dismissive that it leaves you wide eyed in disbelief. He actually doesn’t care about you.

With a heavy sigh, you finally relent. “Okay, okay,” Feeling the weight of the situation and his words, you place two hands up in mock surrender. “Whatever. I’ll stay.”

Dipper’s face softens slightly, though the tension remains. Without another word, he begins walking up to the clearing. The faint glow of his flashlight dances ahead, casting flickering shadows on the walls. You follow closely behind.

As you approach the long table, your eyes are drawn to a striking figure perched at the head of the table. There, on top of a tall, ornate stool, sits a stunning Victorian doll, commanding the center of attention. Her golden blonde curls are meticulously arranged, cascading down her back. Atop her head is a baby pink bonnet with an elaborate lace trim, secured with matching ribbons that flutter gently in the breeze, as if beckoning you closer.

The gown is a soft pastel shade—baby pink—adding to its ethereal charm. The bodice of the dress is fitted, accentuating the doll's delicate form, and features a high lace, white collar that frames her porcelain neck with intricate patterns. At the center was a bright blue broach.

The skirt of the dress featured multiple layers of fabric. The top layer of the skirt is adorned with delicate lace trim, which falls in soft, scalloped edges, and is decorated with tiny rosettes. The hem of the skirt is finished with a delicate lace ruffle, giving it a dreamy, almost fairytale quality.

On her feet were a pair of lace socks. One foot had an accompanying red shoe. The other was missing it.

You look at Dipper, who is also frozen, his eyes wide with uncertainty. Before he can speak, a loud, shrill voice interrupts.

“Uninvited guests!” The voice echoes through the clearing, causing both of you to jump.

Your gaze snaps to the source of the voice. You scan the attendees—stuffed animals and the motionless children—before your eyes settle on the doll. Her beautiful porcelain face, pale and delicate, displays two rosy cheeks and a soft, closed smile. Her eyes are shut tight, but a chill runs down your spine as you wonder—did she just... speak?

The voice carries a singsong quality as it continues. “Welcome to my party, but you’re terribly late! The fun is about to begin, and I do hate to wait.” The doll’s arm raises slightly, her hand perpetually open. Though she cannot truly point, the gesture directs your attention toward two chairs set at the far end of the table. These chairs, ornately decorated, are clearly intended for the guests of honor—chairs that seem to beckon with a chilling invitation.

The air grows colder, and the haunting melody from the music box had long since muted in place. The doll’s gaze remains fixed ahead, her closed eyes concealing whatever dark intentions lie behind them.

“You’re just in time for tea,” the doll continues, “So come and sit, don’t let it be.”

Dipper shifts his weight from one foot to another. He glances at you, and then says. “O-Oh um, we’re not here—”

You interrupt him, your voice laced with urgency. “Sure! Don’t mind if we do!” You grab his arm and yank him along, leaning in close to his ear. One hand shields his ear from the doll’s sight as you whisper harshly, “We have to play along. Don’t make it angry, Dipper. The last thing we need is for that thing to think we’re party crashers.”

Dipper’s eyes widen in realization, and he nods vigorously. “Okay. Sure. That sounds good.” He gives three uncertain confirmations.

You both approach the ornate chairs at the head of the table, their plush, pastel-colored cushions inviting and deceptively comforting. As you sit, the cushions mold around you, cradling your weight with a softness that feels almost too soothing, as if coaxing you to relax.

The doll’s face remains fixed in its serene smile, her closed eyes seemingly gleaming with satisfaction. Her hand drops back down to her side, and instead, a white teapot adorned with pink bows rises from the table, hovering gently in the air.

With a whimsical lilt in her voice, the doll says, “I do hope you’re hungry, for tea and cake we’ve got. But before we begin, a little joke—don’t you think that’s a lot?”

She pauses, as if waiting for a response, then continues with a playful tone, “Why did the teacup frown and pout? It lost its sugar and cream, without a doubt!”

The eerie laughter that follows is almost mechanical, as if it’s been rehearsed. The stuffed animals begin to jiggle and bounce in their seats. It’s as if the stuffed animals are performing a grim, choreographed routine, their movements and laughter meticulously timed. Their glassy eyes seem to twinkle with an artificial delight, their stitched smiles stretching wider as they moved merrily.

You exchange a tense glance with Dipper, the bizarre nature of the scene amplifying your unease. You offer a stiff chuckle, which Dipper mirrors, attempting to blend in with the strange atmosphere.

Instantly, the laughter ceases, as if it were a switch that had been flipped. The sudden silence is nerve-racking, making your stiffened smile feel even more out of place.

The teapot glides across the table, its movements smooth and deliberate. It pauses in front of your and Dipper’s tea cups, the spout extending as it begins to pour a dark liquid. The steam curling from the cups carries a faintly burnt scent, mingling with the underlying bitterness.

The teapot sets itself down softly onto a lace doily, the porcelain clinking gently. You observe the tea as it settles in the cups, the dark liquid swirling slightly with the motion.

Her mechanical, yet oddly enchanting voice chimes in. “Would you like some milk or sugar in your tea? Or perhaps both, to make it sweet and neat?” Her eyes remains closed, her head was set straight, neither looking or tilting to observe the both of you.

The jar of sugar cubes and the small pitcher filled with milk lift gracefully into the air, floating over toward you with an almost magical precision. The doll’s eyes remain closed, but her posture is expectant, as if eagerly awaiting your choice.

Dipper glances at the hovering items, then at the doll. “Um… neither?” he says hesitantly. The doll’s serene smile twitches at the edges, her head tilting slightly to the side in a manner that seems almost disappointed.

A moment passes. One long moment.

You can almost feel the shift in atmosphere, a cold weight settling over you as you realize the doll’s displeasure. To avoid any further ire, you swallow hard and stammer, “S-Sugar… please.” You quickly add, “Thank you,” hoping to placate the doll and salvage the situation.

Polly’s smile smoothly returns to its original, serene curve. She straightens her head back to its normal position, her posture relaxing as if satisfied with your response.

"How many sugar cubes shall I add?" Polly inquires, her shrill voice directs its attention towards you. "Just one? Or two? Or perhaps more—make sure to choose with care, for sweetness brings delight or despair."

Her hand, though rigid and fixed, seems to gesture towards the jar of sugar cubes with an almost imperceptible twitch, as if hinting at the gravity of your decision. She giggles, enjoying her jokes.

“T-Two is fine,” you squeak out, your voice trembling with fear.

Two sugar cubes, lifted by a silver spoon, float gracefully from the jar and tumble into your tea, where they dissolve into the dark liquid with a soft hiss. The milk and sugar set themselves back on their respective lace doilies with a gentle flutter.

An oppressive silence falls over the clearing. The stars above shine brightly, but their light only amplifies the eerie stillness of the field—no insects buzz, no rustling from hidden creatures. Just an unsettling quiet.

“Drink,” Polly demands, her voice now stripped of its rhyming whimsy. The sudden shift in tone sends a chill down your spine. Your gaze flits between Dipper, the doll, and your cup of tea, the weight of Polly’s command pressing down on you as you reluctantly prepare to sip.

As you lift the cup to your lips, your hand trembling, Dipper suddenly springs to his feet.

“Actually um,” Dipper begins, his voice slightly wavering but attempting to sound confident, “we’re not here to play. We wanted to ask you a question.” He glances over at you, visibly relieved that the focus has shifted off the tea, but his satisfaction quickly fades as he sees the dread in your eyes.

Polly’s eyes suddenly snap open. They are a startlingly bright blue, the same shade as the broach on her dress. Her gaze locks onto Dipper, the intensity of her stare making you squirm.

Polly's grin remains fixed, her lips curling slightly as she begins to speak in a sing-song.

“Questions and answers, the game we play, but you must sip your tea before you sway. Ask away if you dare to pry, but remember, there’s no going back once you try.”

Her eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief as she continues.

“Words have power, as you’ll soon see, one sip and you’ll uncover what’s meant to be. But if you refuse, there’s a price to pay, and the answers you seek may slip away.”

Dipper swallows hard, his resolve wavering under Polly’s relentless gaze. “We’re just trying to find out what happened to the missing kids. Can you help us?”

Polly’s smile widens, her eyes never leaving Dipper. “Ah, the missing ones, so close to our hearts, But to learn their fate, the tea must start. Sip and reveal what lies beneath, or face the consequences of your disbelief.”

“Dipper!” You lean over your chair, grabbing at his vest with a tight grip. The fabric bunches up in your hand as you tug him closer. “We have to play along,” you insist, your voice a low, urgent hiss. The frustration in your tone seems to only aggravate him further, and he shakes off your hand with a scowl.

“No way!” he hisses back, his voice laced with panic. “We don’t know what’s in that thing!”

You turn your attention back to the tea cup, its dark liquid swirling ominously. The fear of what’s inside is unnerves you, but drinking it is the only way to get Polly to cooperate. With a determined breath, you lift the cup and lock eyes with Polly, who’s watching you intently. “If I drink this, will you cooperate with us?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady despite the lump in your throat.

Polly’s eyes lock onto yours with an unnerving intensity as she considers your offer. The eerie, porcelain doll remains perfectly still, her unsettling smile never wavering.

“Ah, a brave soul, how rare to see,” she begins, her voice lilting in a rhythmic, almost melodic tone. “A sip from the cup, and questions shall be free.”

You breath out, almost sighing. With a final, resolute glance at Dipper, who watches with anxiety, you lift the cup to your lips. The liquid inside is dark and opaque, its aroma bitter and uninviting. Polly’s gaze follows every movement with a sinister patience.

You take a long sip of the black tea. The liquid is shockingly hot and has a taste that is both earthy and bitter, lingering on your tongue. You swallow, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.

Polly remains fixed on you, her eyes unblinking and intensely focused. Her smile doesn’t waver as you put the cup back down on the table

“Well done,” the doll tilts its head, pleased by your action. “You’ve proven you’re willing to play. Now, tell me what you seek, and I’ll give you a chance to speak.”

You opened your mouth and began, “How do we convince you to give us the missing children?”

The Victorian doll stands up her short legs seems to balance her on top of the stool. “Tell me why you seek to save the children from their dream. For here with me, they are content and serene. They dream of love, their hearts entwined, with parents and loved ones, all perfectly aligned.”

“Because,” you stood up as well, uncomfortable with how indominable she appeared. “They need to return to their actual parents who miss them!”

Polly’s eyes, now bright and gleaming, open wider. Her voice, though sweet, carries a hint of sorrow. “But you see,” she replies in a sing-song tone, “Their parents left them lonely, left them on their own. Deprived of the love and the attention they craved, so I whisked them away to a world they’d be saved.”

It was impossible to argue with her, you realized. She saw herself as an angel of saving grace for the lonely children of Gravity Falls. Nothing was going to change that. “What… will happen to them if they stay with you…?” You pause between each word as your voice grew into a dim whisper.

Polly’s porcelain smile remains, but her voice turns colder. “If they stay with me, dear, they’ll slumber here, sweet and dear. Their bodies will wither, and their spirits will fade, while I keep them close in the shade.” A chill runs down your spine as Polly’s words become clearer. Her serene face seems almost mocking as she continues. “They’ll dream of a world where they’re never alone, but time will pass and their bodies will moan. When their forms decay and their lives come to end, I’ll gently lay them where the waters blend.”

You and Dipper exchange worried glances as you take in the sight of the lake behind Polly. The realization hits you: beneath that calm surface, the lake likely holds the bodies of missing children of the past. A cold shiver runs down your spine. What has Dipper dragged you into?

Dipper seems to be formulating a plan, his eyes darting around the scene. He turns to you, urgency in his voice. “I need you to distract her while I find a way to defeat Polly. Can you do that?”

You stare at him, disbelief etched across your face. “Distract her?! How could I possibly—”

Before you can finish, Dipper suddenly tips over his teacup, sending its contents spilling onto the grass. The handle of the delicate cup cracks off and clatters to the ground. “Oops!” he exclaims with exaggerated nonchalance. “Can you handle that for me, (Y/n)?”

Your jaw drops as Dipper swiftly ducks beneath the table, vanishing from Polly's sight. The doll's gaze remains fixated on the spilled tea, her smile widening into an unsettling crescent. She murmurs something under her breath.

“Haha, w-what was that?” you stammer, taking an uncertain step away from the table.

Despite her facial muscles being unable to move, you can sense her eyes narrowing with displeasure.

Trying to buy time, you feign a cheerful demeanor. “Oh, Polly! Look at that mess! Isn’t it just the most amusing accident?” You wave your arms dramatically, hoping to divert her attention as Dipper figures out how to defeat her.

Polly finally responds after a pause. Her head snapping up to stare at you. “Oh, such a clumsy little thing, Making spills and causing a fling! But entertain me if you please, before I chase you to the trees!”

She begins to rise from her chair, her movements smooth yet unnervingly quick. You back away nervously, trying to keep her attention focused on you as she starts to follow you around the table and towards the lake.

With each step you take, Polly’s laughter rings out, a chilling melody that echoes across the clearing. She floats with an almost unnatural grace, her gaze fixed on you as you weave through the field, her intentions clear.

As you lead Polly in a wild chase, your heart pounds with anxiety. You approach the lake and then turn around to face her, you glance behind you into the murky depths below. Well, it seems like you have no where else to run. Just when you think you might be cornered, you see Dipper darting from beneath the table, clutching Polly’s red shoe and the music box.

He skids to a halt near the edge of the clearing, holding up the shoe and the box. “Polly!” he shouts, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and determination. “Your shoe is a key to this whole mess! And the music box—let’s see if it can bring your little party to an end!”

He quickly turns the handle on the music box and starts to play the haunting melody. The sound fills the air, and it appears as though the stars are drawing closer. Polly’s expression shifts from curiosity to agitation as she stops in her tracks, her eyes widening.

“You think a tune will save your day?” she shrieks, her voice cracking with frustration. “It’s not enough to keep me at bay!”

But Dipper’s plan is already in motion. And he yells, “(Y/N)! Get her!”

Realization sets in and your body moves before you’re ready. You lunge forward and grip the head of the doll pulling it towards you into an unyielding chokehold.

“What’s next?!” You gruff out, trying to keep a firm hold of the protesting doll as it tries to squirm out of your grasp.

He runs to you and holds up Polly’s red shoe, revealing a hidden compartment inside. He pulls out a shimmering, ornate key and waves it in front of her. “This key.” He announces triumphantly, “If you wind it into the keyhole in her back, she’ll stop moving as the spirit trapped inside will finally release.”

He quickly hands you the key, his hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline. You manage to pry open Polly’s back, revealing a small, ornate keyhole hidden beneath her delicate dress. With a deep breath, you carefully insert the key and start turning it.

As you wind the key, Polly’s movements become more sluggish. Her eyes, once wide with rage, begin to lose their focus, her form flickering as if struggling to maintain its shape.

“Keep going!” Dipper urges, his voice barely audible over the fading music. “You’re doing great!”

With each turn of the key, Polly’s protests grow weaker. Her once-terrifying grin softens, and her movements become more erratic. Finally, with a final, decisive click, the key reaches its limit. Polly’s body suddenly goes limp in your arms, her disturbing blue eyes still wide open.

A profound silence falls over the clearing as Polly begins to disintegrate into ash, leaving only her head behind. You and Dipper release the creepy objects, allowing it to gently fall into the grass.

Dipper steps forward, his face displays relief and exhaustion. “We did it,” he says, his voice filled with weary satisfaction. “Let’s get out of here before anything else happens.” He starts to walk away, his focus on the path ahead.

A moment passes.

When he notices the silence stretching longer than expected and doesn’t hear your footsteps following, he stops and turns around. His eyes search for you, and his heart skips a beat when he finally spots you standing still near the remnants of the broken tea party.

“(Y/n)…?” Dipper calls out, his voice tinged with concern.

You stand there, unmoving, a vacant expression on your face. Your eyes, usually full of life, are now glazed over, and a sinister smile curls your lips. Dipper’s stomach drops as he takes in the sight.

“You’re—” he begins, but his voice falters. The realization hits him like a cold wave. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

He rushes back to your side, shaking you gently. “(Y/n), can you hear me? Snap out of it!”

But the smile on your face remains unnaturally wide, and your eyes stay fixed in a haunting stare. “Welcome to the party,” you say in a voice that’s not quite your own, echoing Polly’s eerie tone. “You’re the next guest of honor.”

Dipper’s heart races as he searches for a solution. He frantically looks around, his mind racing through every clue and piece of information he has. “No, this isn’t right,” he mutters to himself. “There has to be something…”

His gaze lands on the remnants of the doll and the now-silent music box. The realization strikes him again—Polly’s spirit might have latched onto you in a final act of revenge.

“Okay, think!” Dipper says, more to himself than anyone. “The key worked for Polly, so maybe there’s something left we can use.”

He runs away to frantically searches through the debris, his hands moving with urgency. As he works, he remembers the music box and its intricate mechanisms. With a desperate hope, he pries open the music box, hoping to find something that might help.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking with guilt. “I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve—”

Walking slowly, deliberately towards the boy, you observe him carefully. Your voice is distorted as you respond in a manner that drew from the neglected depression caused by Dipper. “Left behind, I’ve grown so cold, now with this doll, my heart’s been sold.” You shake your head, trying to separate the sing-song voice from your own. “I told you, Dipper. I’m not a tool you can use whenever it’s convenient.” It’s barely above a whisper.

He finally looks at you. Really looks at you. The dawning realization hits him like a cold wave crashing over him. He understands now: this was all his doing. The doll had called out to lonely children, those who felt abandoned and neglected. It wasn’t just a matter of curiosity or adventure; it was a matter of deep, personal connection. The spirit that inhabited the doll had latched onto it because of its own loneliness when its original owner vanished. And now, that same spirit has attached itself to you.

Dipper’s heart races as he confronts the gravity of the situation. He stands, his palms slick with sweat, and he wipes them nervously against his vest. His eyes are filled with a mixture regret and desperation. “(Y/n),” he begins, his voice trembling slightly, “I... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize... I didn’t see how my actions would lead to this. I thought I was just solving a mystery…”

You fail to reply, your expression a mask of hollow understanding. You tilt your head slightly, as if considering his words but not truly grasping them. The eerie calmness in your demeanor sends a shiver down Dipper’s spine. His hands tremble as he reaches out to you, the weight of his guilt and fear heavy in his heart.

With a deep breath, Dipper envelops you in a hug. You’re stiff against his body, and he’s stiffly hugging you back. His hands are placed awkwardly on your back, as if he’s unsure of where to place them. You can feel his heartbeat accelerating, each thud resonating with the frantic urgency in his chest. His face is flushed red, and the tips of his ears are crimson, revealing the depth of his feelings for you.

Yet, Dipper shrugs past his shyness and confronts you. His voice softens, and you can see the struggle in his eyes as he continues. “Look,” he says, his tone more earnest than before, “I know I can be a pain sometimes, and I know I’ve always let you down. I even say things that I regret. But… I…” He hesitates, taking a deep breath as if gathering the courage to finally say what’s been on his mind. “I’m sorry for calling you unpredictable. I’m sorry for calling your feelings unnecessary. I’m sorry for only seeking you out when it’s convenient for me.”

He pulls away slightly to look at you with sincerity, his voice almost breaking as he continues. “I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter, like your thoughts and feelings were less important than mine. I got so wrapped up in the mysteries and trying to prove myself that I forgot how much you’ve been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He squeezes your body, a silent plea for you to believe him. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re just another part of the adventure. You’re more than that. You’re… important to me, in ways that go beyond all this craziness. I need you here, not just because of what we’re facing, but because… I need you.”

You struggle against the spirit's influence, your mind a battleground of despair and defiance. The doll’s voice echoes in your head, a cruel reminder of your loneliness and Dipper’s perceived neglect. You fight to hold onto your own thoughts, pushing back against the overwhelming darkness.

“I need you. We have a ton of bizarre mysteries to solve, and… well, I’m gonna need your expert opinion on the best milkshake flavors at Greasy’s Diner. And believe me, that's a crucial job.” He lets a hand go to cup your face gently. His thumb brushing against a tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. “So, how about it? Stay with me and I promise to bring you the most ridiculous milkshake combinations we can think of. Deal?”

With a surge of willpower, you manage to break through the spirit’s hold. You feel the pressure in your mind lift, the cold grip loosening as you regain control. A final burst of energy helps you push the spirit out, and you gasp for air, your chest heaving.

As the last remnants of the spirit dissipate, you collapse into Dipper’s embrace. You both fall, tumbling onto the fluffy grass. Your arms tremble slightly, and your breathing is ragged. Slowly, you wrap your arms around him, the hug coming out as an awkward yet sincere gesture. Dipper’s arms tighten around you, his grip warm and reassuring.

“Seriously?” You murmur into his shoulder, your voice still shaky. “I’m never messing with the supernatural again, Dipping Sauce.”

Dipper chuckles into your arms, his eyes softening with relief. He’s still flushed, but there’s a tender, grateful smile on his face. “Yeah… me either.” His voice filled with earnest emotion. “At least, not alone. Not without you.” He pauses. “And you’re important. More than you know.”

The two of you stayed lying in the grass under the stars for a while longer, the night air cool and calm. His embrace was comforting in comparison to the terror you just went through. Eventually, without saying a word, you both silently agreed it was time to head back to civilization.

The walk to your house was peaceful, Dipper’s hand gripping yours tightly, as if reassuring himself you were still there beside him.

When you reached your doorstep, you turned to him with a soft smile. “See you in the morning, Dipper,” you said, leaning in to place a quick kiss on his cheek.

His face lit up in a deep blush as he instinctively covered the spot where your lips had touched. “Y-Yeah, see you tomorrow, (Y/n),” he stammered, coughing awkwardly to hide his embarrassment.

You chuckled, finding his shy reaction utterly endearing. Turning to head inside, you were almost through the door when you heard his voice again.

“(Y/n)?”

You paused, hand still on the doorknob, turning just enough to see him standing there, his eyes earnest and filled with something unspoken. “What is it, Dipper?”

He hesitated for a moment before giving you a sheepish grin. “You think we could meet up at Greasy’s tomorrow? I’ve been working on this idea for the coolest milkshake ever, but… well, you’re the milkshake master, so…”

Your heart warmed at the thought, and you smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you ruining my reputation with a bad milkshake experiment.”

He laughed, the tension easing between you. “Deal. Let’s create the best milkshake Gravity Falls has ever seen.”

With one last grin, you gave him a wave and stepped inside. But then, he says something else.

“(Y/n)?”

You full turn around this time and face him. “Dipper?”

Dipper stared at you for a long moment, his eyes distant, as if lost in thought. You could see the wheels turning in his head, like he was on the verge of saying something more. But then, he shook his head gently, a small, almost defeated smile tugging at his lips.

"Nothing. Good night, (Y/n)," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You paused, sensing there was something deeper lingering just beneath the surface. Part of you wanted to urge him to speak, to let out whatever was weighing on him. But for now, you let it be, trusting that whatever it was, Dipper would tell you when he was ready.

"Good night, Dipper," you said warmly before turning and slipping into your home, leaving him standing on the porch.

[luxthestrange]

TWST Incorrect quotes#420 Period Party!

Crowley: The nurse called me... apparently...my little chick got her "first in another planet" period, She said "Dad Im fine! The ghost uncles made me a go bag, I just need you to go to Sam's and get supplies"

Crowley: And I go "How bad is this period?"She like "No Dad im throwing myself a Period party! tonight!, Get a red velvet cake from Trey!"....my reaction was...expected*Started to gag and hold and throw up*...I couldn't eat red velvet knowing what it symbolizes...and APPARENTLY...YOU NAME YOUR PERIODS DID YOU KNOW THIS!?

Crowley: She goes and says She is inviting all her friends"We have 26 girls coming to the house?" and she goes"No dad three girls and 23 boys"WHO INVITES BOYS TO A PERIOD PARTY!?...then I heard her sinister little giggle on the phone"Dad...that's the fun of it....WE DONT TELL THEM WHY THEY'RE THERE!"...Im like fuck it im IN

Crowley: I had...NEVER had more fun at a party in my ENTIRE LIFE-Planning hosting and attending a period party! I dressed ALL IN RED LIKE I WAS IN HEARTSLAYBUL DRINKING PINOT NOIR,I MADE PASTA WITH CHUNKY MARINARA SAUCE AND I GIGGLE THE WHOLE NIGHT WITH THESE YOUNG GIRLS

Crowley: And the rest of my chick's friends all from 3rd years to 1st years ALL of their faces COVERED IN RED CAKE-the whole party each of these boys are looking at the cake going "WHO THE HELL IS JASON!?"

Crowley: My Daughter Yuu Crowley...Named her period Jason...cuz she had it on Friday the 13th

Nrc Faculty*From teachers to sam to ghosts...LOSE their shit and started to laugh their hearts out*

...Yes you, Yuuka,Eliza, and Najma along with Crowley are laughing at the guys...who doesn't know about this party meaning-

[blorboblorbs]

Hot water bottle conversation

It’s my first fan fiction ever. Nothing amazing, but I’m happy to have written something. Originally this was supposed to be shard on Friday the Thirteenth, but some weird stuff came up - one could call it bad luck. Anyway, here it is. You can also find this on AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61310602

A/N: fluff, domestic fluff, SFW, gn!reader x Kakashi Hatake

’I’ll be home in a few minutes. Could you turn on the kettle and prepare me a hot water bottle, please?’

You turn off your phone and throw it into the tote bag with groceries.

Sighing, you sling your work bag over your shoulder and readjust your scarf. After a deep breath in to mentally prepare you for the walk home, you grab the handles of the tote and step outside.

Immediately your holds tighten around the bags and your eyes squint against the icy wind. You try to make your way as quickly as possible around the other shoppers, concentrating on the white clouds of your breath that immediately disappear behind your head, rather than the cold that bites the skin of your cheeks.

Happy new year it reads on a banner you quickly pass by. The letters flap wildly in the strong wind, still you know what’s written there. Just like on all the other posters, advertising for New Year’s Eve parties and special discounts.

Turning into the next alley the wind lessens. Finally you can open your eyes completely. In the span of a few minutes outside your hands and face already turned uncomfortably numb. Luckily your apartment isn’t far from the grocery store. It’s only the winter market on the square that hinders you from getting home quickly. Normally you’d enjoy the clear air and look at all the things people have to offer in their nicely decorated booths but today you can’t concentrate. The numbness of your cheeks helps a little bit but it’s only a matter of time until the pain comes back.

In front of your apartment complex a man and his two children stand on the curb. He puts gloves on his youngest kid’s hands whilst their sibling enjoy the wind. They have spread their arms and lean into it, eyes closed, grinning widely.

’Hey, …, waiting for your wife?’ ‘Oh, hey! No, we were actually going to the market. You know, picking out some gifts for her. So, if you see her…’ he grins conspiratorially. ‘Of course, I’ll tell her you went to the playground at the park’ you answer with a wink.

The older child runs over to you. ‘Will you come with us? You promised the last time you came over to play with us. You promised!’ ‘Yeah, we will go the next time I come over. But today, your dad wants to spend some time with you. And I have someone waiting for me upstairs today’ you smile, patting his head.

Pouting the kid opens the front door for you. You thank him and wish them a pleasant day out before making your way inside an up a few flights of stairs, the bags still tightly gripped.

———————————————————-

Huffing, you enter your apartment. You hang the keys up on the little board with some wooden dogs sitting on it and bring the groceries inside from the hallway. You close the door behind you and take off your shoes. The scarf and jacket you hang up on the peg in the wall besides the wall length mirror.

You follow the smell of dinner and bring the groceries in the kitchen. On your way there you throw your work bag on the floor next to the sofa.

In the kitchen stands Kakashi with an apron around his hips. It was the first present you gave him. The little dogs on it just reminded you of him and his ninken. Honestly, in this moment you’re very proud. It was the best investment you could have made. Kakashi turns and greets you with a smile, a spoon to taste the sauce for the vegetables in his hand.

You fish the packet of coriander out of the bag and hand it to him.

’Sorry for forgetting. I should have checked before I invited you over’ you mumble.

’No worries, you brought it just in time. The cold just keeps it fresh. Even though you look like a popsicle.’

You sort away the other stuff you bought and turn to your boyfriend with a one-sided smile.

He sets the spoon aside and takes a few steps towards you. He puts his warm hands on your cheeks and kisses your nose, grinning stupidly. You probably have a bright red nose that could guide all the other reindeer right through a winter storm.

When you try to hold his face to kiss him back he catches your hands in one of his and laughs. His are comfortably warm yet wet from washing the coriander. All the while yours are probably still ice cold.

’Just wait a second’ he chuckles. You hum, disappointed and walk back to the sofa. As soon as you put your work things away you return to the kitchen.

‘Your hot water bottle, my lady.’

You thank Kakashi, relishing the warmth in your hands for a moment.

’So what is it? Can’t your weary body fight off the harsh winter or is your back hurting again?’ he asks. Kakashi isn’t really worried but he doesn’t like you being uncomfortable in any way.

‘None of it. It’s not a big deal, really. Just my jaw.’ At that last part, Kakashi raises his eyebrows in surprise.

‘Your jaw?’

’It's a stupid story’ you mumble. Opening your mouth just makes the pain more intense.

You press the hot water bottle against your cheek and lean forward., forehead resting on the dinner table.

Kakashi takes a long look at you and turns back to the stove to taste the sauce.

——————————————————

After a pretty quiet dinner you go lay down on the sofa. Kakashi loads the dishwasher. There are some vegetables left on your plate that you couldn’t cut any smaller and had to leave. He eats your leftovers and wipes down the table, then he hangs up the rag next to the apron.

Seeing you snuggled up on the sofa with the warm water bottle back on your face he smiles. Even in these moments you manage to lighten up his life.

You feel Kakashi lifting up your legs so he can sit down on the couch with you.

’You know, I need to hear every story about you’ he whispers. You want to protest but he immediately goes on ‘and especially the stupid ones.’

You know he won’t let you go without knowing the whole background. Honestly, after he patiently answered all the questions you asked him regarding his scars, you probably should be telling him that one story. Of course some things are still kept secret between you two. Especially scars are a very sensitive subject and you’re not that far into your relationship yet. It’s understandable to you that he wouldn’t want to share with you all the cruel things he had to endure as an elite ninja. At least you’re slowly building up the foundations for all these talks in the future.

But today it’s your turn. You fidget with the hem of your shirt as you begin to talk.

’When I was a kid, my teeth were crooked. Not just a little wonky, I looked more like a vampire with my canines growing pretty much in front of my incisors. So naturally, I got braces.’ You stopped. You could practically hear Kakashi grin. By lifting the water bottle from your eyes and peeking up to him, you confirmed him smiling. ‘What’s so funny about that?’ you ask.

’Oh, nothing. It’s just’ he falls into silence. You raise an eyebrow at him. ‘Imagining you with braces is kind of cute. You don’t happen to have some pictures of you back then lying around?’

‘I’d only show them if I wanted you to break up with me. I had my big glow up pretty recently and don’t want to start the new year single’ you scoff, jokingly.

‘Ah, you know I wouldn’t want to risk your wrath’ he retorts. You let the water bottle fold back on your face, ready to continue the story. Kakashi starts massaging your legs.

‘So anyway’ you leave a little pause, ‘one summer a friend of mine invited me on a group trip. We traveled 28 hours by bus. Already a wild ride, since I only knew my friend and her siblings in that group. But, as you can guess, at some point even I had to sleep.’ Once again, a chuckle escaped Kakashi. There were nights where even he fell asleep before you did. You battled with insomnia almost every night.

You choose to ignore him this time. ‘I fell asleep in my seat. I only had a small pillow with me. The window was cold so I propped it up against it but at some point in the night, it slipped down. Stupid me ignored it and went back to sleep.’ You lift your hands to your head and massage your scalp, still frustrated at the memory.

Meanwhile Kakashi’s fingers started tracing invisible patterns over your legs and up your hips.

’What happened?’

’Don’t know. I just woke up not much later and couldn’t open my mouth. My orthodontist wanted me to put in small rubber bands into my braces to help straighten my teeth. When i tried to remove them to open my mouth wider I realized it was just my jaw. It was pretty much locked in place. Rubber bands or not. It was the middle of the night, around me mostly people I have never met before and I could barely move my mouth.’

’Sounds awful’ Kakashi whispers in sympathy. He shifts his position a little bit, his warm fingers making their way under your shirt, still tracing those lines.

‘There was nothing I could do, so I waited for it to get better. During our trip there were a few meals I didn’t really enjoy. Every time I moved it, my jaw cracked uncomfortably. And in my head it was so loud. It was a real pain.

That was seven years ago. To this day my jaw cracks. Not as loudly anymore and it doesn’t lock my mouth in place fortunately.’ You take a deep breath, relaxing deeper into the cushions.

Kakashi shifts again so that he can rest his head on your chest. One hand he tucks under your body. The fingers of his free hand are still making their way up and down your sides. Goosebumps cover your body because of it but it’s a comfortable chill.

’Nobody was able to help you?’

’I guess. Actually it was more like nobody believed me. My orthodontist didn’t even care. When my braces got removed I had some diagnostics done. You know, check the functions of the jaw and all that. They make you open and close your mouth lots of times until you feel like a stupid fish that is stranded in an orthodontist’s office. On the last exercise my jaw cracked loudly. Even in my ears it was extreme. But it was only then that my orthodontist turned to her assistant and asked her “did you hear that” in that horrified tone. I felt like scratching her eyes out. She didn’t even remember what had happened. She thought it was in some kind of camper van.’

’At least she remembered you were traveling’ Kakashi answered. You let the water bottle slide from your face onto the sofa. The warmth from it was almost gone and your jaw felt better anyway. Kakashi had his eyes closed and seemed to be perfectly content with being your human heater. There was no way for you to get out under him if he fell asleep like this.

’Kashi, no, don’t cut her any slack. That woman was the bane of my existence back then!’ you groan. You put one hand in his fluffy hair, stroking it and watching the light reflect in the silver strands. Your other hand now rests above your head and plays with the tassels on one of your couch cushions.

You begin to ramble ‘actually, did I ever tell you, she’s also responsible for putting screws into the roof of my mouth? Not once, not twice but three times there were two screws twisted into my palate! I still have the scars from that. Sometimes I can feel my pulse in there and then I have to sneeze. Did it help? No, of course not. In the end they had to remove two of my teeth to make enough space for the braces in the first place. That’s also why I don’t like the taste of pineapple…’ you fall silent.

Lifting your head up from the sofa you see Kakashi’s face. He’s sleeping peacefully, his one hand still moving a little bit. Even whilst sleeping he soothes you. You smile and grab the cushion above your head. You lie your head back and get comfortable. From experience you know that Kakashi functioning as your weighted blanket can get you to sleep in no time.

In that moment you can’t imagine anything more relaxing than napping on the couch with your boyfriend while the wind outside sings you a lullaby. Your other hand comes down to also stroke Kakashi’s hair. You close your eyes, ready to drift off, smiling just like Kakashi is in his sleep.

[obesogen]

The Back Room

contains: voyeurism in a public setting, degradation/humiliation (of the FA, not the fattie) fluids, Feeder/feedee, gender unspecified, 2nd person/reader insert if ya want

You are just an innocent bystander. This is not your fault.

It's Friday. You're out to dinner with a good friend at the fancy all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet in town.

Your buddy just put in their two weeks notice and you two you are celebrating in indulgent fashion. The plan is well underway when you can't help but notice a couple walk into the restaurant.

Well, one of them walks in. The other waddles.

The skinnier of them is about 5’8” or so. They appear somewhat haggard but strong, a works-with-their-hands type. Their companion is easily twice their weight and significantly shorter, a fluffy, soft marshmallow. They are wearing bike shorts that are catastrophically too tight, causing a hill of insistent chub to crest the waistband. The fabric of their shorts has been stretched so far as to become translucent. Silky arm fat bursts out of the strained crease of their crop top's armpit and side boob is dripping out of the bottom of it. Chunky calves threaten to envelop their proportionately delicate ankles and feet.

These two have to be a Feeder and feedee, they just have to be. You silently pray that they are because you're not at all sure you can stop trying to get a look, even if they're not.

The Feeder greets the beaming Host warmly and it is immediately clear that all three know each other well. The two of them must be regulars. You watch with mounting arousal as the Host and Feeder carefully lead the slow-moving feedee along the path of least resistance through the dining room. It takes a quick eternity for them to cross it gracelessly, through the tittering and disdain of fellow diners, unconcerned.

All the while, you're trying hard not to obviously, hungrily devour the stolen glimpses of swaying soft you catch out of the side of your eye while badly pretending to be listening to your friend. You're appalled by how sweaty and riled you are, how fast you were gripped with monstrous lust, all hunched and tense over half finished crab legs (or whatever you would eat. I would be eating crab legs). They disappear into the back room, usually reserved for parties.

You are by now having serious trouble hiding your predicament. You haven't even been pretending to pay attention for the last minute.

"Hello?! Anyone home?" your friend snaps their fingers in your face.

You laugh a little too quickly and make appropriate eye contact with them, flushed. You apologize sheepishly. You just got caught… off guard, you say. Momentarily. Sorry. "I bet, you fucking perv" they laugh at you pityingly, but not entirely unkindly. They know you have a type and that type is legendary. They know it's just so difficult for you to be painfully hard under the table pretending not to watch an enormous person struggle to walk 150 feet across an all-you-can-eat buffet. A horny mess like you can’t really be expected to listen to them talk about whatever shit Danielle in Accounting did last week. You couldn’t possibly stop imagining that stranger’s upper arm in your teeth for 20 seconds and let them finish a thought. You have never been able to be an appropriate amount of horny, how could they expect anything else from you. You eat your food in shameful, steaming silence.

Though the feedee remains behind closed doors out of your sight, you see their Feeder get up to start fixing plate (s) for them. By the time they return to the back room they're carrying 4 plates, balancing them expertly in fine dining style. The plates are laden with various treats which you definitely were not watching them lovingly select.

One plate is all fried: crispy egg rolls, spring rolls, crab rangoon, chicken wings, juicy fried pork and chive dumplings, scallion pancakes, the works. Various sauces.

The second plate is heaped with sticky sweet bbq ribs, sweet and sour chicken, a mountain of white rice, and a landslide of mixed veggies with a ton of extra baby corn and snow peas. Their feedee clearly has good taste.

Still another plate is all seafood: the aforementioned buttery snow crab legs, shrimp, steaming mussels, spiny little rock lobsters, clams… more shrimp, but tempura this time.

The last one isn't really a plate, its a bowl. The bowl is filled with vanilla soft serve (of course) and fresh fruit. Just for good measure, there's also two shiny, glazed roast pork buns balanced precariously on top. You bet a little bit of vanilla ice cream getting on a sweet, doughy pork bun is good as hell. No, you can’t be horny and hungry. You are already full and still have food. You are considering trying it though. Not to try to get a look, of course not, but just to get some dessert.

While you are deliberating and “talking” to your friend, you spy a busboy running towards the back room holding an extra-wide, high weight capacity folding chair. It's clear that this hefty cutie isn't their most comfortable on even the armless chairs that are as used to accommodating heavy people as any chair at a buffet should be. They still need something wider.

You’re dying in here. You need to wash your face and think of the least sexy things you can imagine: hairless plastic abs, taxes, etc. You excuse yourself to use the restroom and ask your friend if they want anything from the buffet on your way back.

“I want you to make sure you wash your filthy hands when you’re done, you useless degenerate” they snap. “C’mon, man, Jesus Christ—” you look around as you get up to see if anyone heard your friend, who has since lost all patience and good humor towards you and your inability to get it together.

You get up from the table and it’s as bad as you feared. You’re so aroused, not to mention full of crab legs, and just need to cool down long enough to make it home. Or at least to the car after you drop your friend off.

Your underwear is tight and rubbing your poor swollen dick. You’re so overstimulated that each step towards the bathroom is somewhat labored. Thankfully, labored movements toward the bathroom are not uncommon here so you fly under the radar for the most part.

You almost reach the bathroom door when out of the corner of your eye you realize that you suddenly can see them through the glass doors of the back room as you pass.

The Feeder is indeed lovingly in the midst of hand-feeding the feedee an egg roll dripping with sweet duck sauce. They have one hand under their feedee’s belly, which is pulled out of their shorts, nude and sumptuous under the long banquet table. It hangs heavy between their knees when fully unfurled with two massive lobes comprising the bottom of the apron and a pronounced dip in the center; 3 shaped.

You accidentally make eye contact with the feedee briefly, as you turn to enter the bathroom, sweaty and collapsing from fevered arousal. They just slowly lick their lips, staring into your very being, hungrily, menacing, devouring you with their eyes, daring you to keep looking.

You almost make it to the stall, but unfortunately for you,

You bust in your underwear, untouched, and now facing the long walk back to the table, wetly covered in yourself.

Worth it.

[toulousewayne]

Batfamily Shenanigans:Head-canons Pt: 2

Dick and Tim have the most inside jokes,Jason ignores them and Damian is but jealous. But the two bonded a lot before the arrival/return of the other two.

Jason takes his little brothers to Diner’s at 2 am. Alfred would rather he do it during regular hours,but then he remembers they’re nighttime activities and is just happy he’s not trying to shoot them.

Talia before having Damian loved seeing a young Dick Grayson as Robin.He was so full of cheer and it warmed Talia’s heart, she hoped to have a son as bright as him. (She did he’s just a little shy)

Cass doesn’t have her drivers license and prefers to be passenger princess.

Duke has naturally curly hair but cuts most of the time for easier management.

Jason can mimic voices the best. He can do a pretty decent Bruce Wayne impression and it has made Bruce ask his children multiple times if he sounds like that. Alfred gets a chuckle out of it too.

The Robins most definitely play pricks on JL members who annoy their Dad, that’s there job. Hal goes to pay his bills and all his passwords have been changed, Oliver is getting dressed for a party and all his clothes are pink.

Bruce is a big baby when he’s sick. He cannot find for hisself and his family take turns caring for him. Jason makes him soup, Tim gives him medicine, Damian and Duke make him rest, The girls block him from working on cases files and Alfred makes sure he has plenty of fluids. And if that fails they call in the big guns. Diana.

Speaking of Wonder Woman, she visits the Manor every Sunday and her and Damian feed and pet his animals.

Tim,Jason and Dick all have “R” tattoos. Dick promised Damian he could get on when he turns 18, and they let Damian sketch it too.

Dick’s is on his right hip, Jason’s is on his left wrist, and Tim’s is on his right ankle.

Stephanie and Selina are tied for the most ear piercings.

Jason is the only former Robin who can drive stick currently. Dick hasn’t done it in years but probably could after a few lessons, Tim never learned, Damian can but prefers not to. Jason is currently teaching Duke and Steph and had regretted it ever since.

Alfred enjoys making lunches for everyone still. Some days he gets to make everyone lunch. He first makes Damian(PB&J with crust cut off, and cut into triangles) and Duke’s(Ham and cheese toasted sandwich with pickles slices) school lunches.

Bruce usually leaves for the office before breakfast so when Tim eventually comes downstairs Alfred will have his breakfast Togo and both their lunches. (Usually for B it’s a BLT with turkey bacon and cheese. And Tim’s is Tuna and Swiss on whole grain bread.)

Dick on Tuesdays and Friday’s, sometimes Sundays spends the night the prior at the Manor. He’s usually the only home so Alfred can make whatever he wants for lunch. He’s top two favorite lunches are Janija one of the only dishes Alfred can make that tastes similar to how Dick’s Mom prepared it. And Bangers and Mash. When he first arrived he say Alfred eating this and wanted to try it. He always requests this dish,but only if he can eat it with Alfred.

Jason likes either Club subs or a simple pasta with fresh spinach and a cream sauce.

Depending on the day Alfred will drop off lunch to the Clocktower for Barbara and the girls. Sometimes the other birds are in town and he always knows when to make extra. Most of the times me it’s wrapped sandwiches a mix of cold cuts and vegetarian options. Barbara always get turkey with cheddar, Steph gets chicken salad on a croissant bread and Cass gets ham and cheese pinwheels.

He even makes weekly meals and drops them off for the Titans and Young Justice. Seeing as most of them cannot cook. He packs extra knowing their speedsters on each time. Looking at you Wally and Bart. They’re all just grateful they don’t have to eat Pizza or Big Belly Burger for a few nights. Dick enjoys when Alfred visits and so does Kory. Tim and his friends are over the moon to have Alfred visit them too, and Bart even makes request for his next meal.

The league even gets random lunch. They return from training and find fresh out meals at the sits. Batman just shrugs but Superman and Wonder Woman make him call Alfred so he can be thanked.

Sunday’s are days that’s it mandatory for everyone to come for dinner. Once a Month several members are the League are expected to come for dinner and everyone better be on their best behavior.No wants an angry butler, so everyone always attends.

Jason and Duke are the only people allowed to help with preparing food, Dick isn’t allowed because he sampled everything to the point he’s eaten half of the dish. Tim and Damian are assigned to setting the table. And Bruce must stay either in the living room or dinning room if Alfred even hears the grandfather clock tick he’s going to skin a bat.

Cass enjoys getting ingredients from the fridge and pantry for them. And Stephanie is on Bruce Watch, if he moves she sprays him with water like a misbehaving kitten.

Most the the time Barbara is greeting the guests and depending on is Stephanie is needed to help bring the food out Barbara will have Bruce greet everyone with her. She especially makes him greet Green Arrow and Green Lantern.

Sometimes Alfred asks other to bring dishes for a potluck.Clark will usually bring Jon,Lois and Conner with him and he’ll bring pies. Diana always bring Donna. Usually they bring wines and vegetables.Ollie and Dinah usually are late but the bring brownies and cobbler, Roy and Lian bring meatballs, Hal brings beer and he’s makes a mean Mac and cheese on his smoker, Barry and Iris bring sodas, Arthur provides fresh fish, and J’onn brings a tasty and beautiful charcuterie board.

It’s a blast and all the kids have fun too with their friends and Alfred swears he sees Bruce double over laughing at Hal and Barry fighting for the last brownie.

All in all the butler that would take on the entire League of Doom himself enjoys making food for his family and spending with them too.

[sleepymimixx]

ok tonight is a crimson rivers night again ! one of the last i think bc im at chapter 64 !

im going to wash the dishes so that i can make pasta, i’ve already rolled, i have even put my clothes in the washer (i hope the neighbors wont mind) and it’s been days ive avoided it so its a good night ?

on friday night my besties are coming at mine for a sleepover party so it makes me happy but i rly have to clean the place and il trying to do it step by step.

the plan is to cook something, idk if i have the motivation to chop oignons for the tomato sauce but it would be nice and then when my meal is ready i sit somewhere confortable, put a tv show on (once upon a time i think) or maybe a youtube video idk and read cr !

ive been putting of finishing it, i dont want to say goodbye to them, i love this fic so so much and idk its been hard these last few days and cr made me feel comfort (yeah crazy aha)

[leclerced]

it’s hot where i live and all i wanna do is take a boat out to a secluded location with landoscar and spend the whole day sun bathing fucking to reel in the new year

its usually warm here in texas but its been cold and wet this week and its frankly annoying. i would love to be on a beach somewhere with landoscar tbh. have this lil blurb idk what it is ?? just brainrot

If you had asked her how she thought she’d be ringing in the new year, never in a million years would she have said Lando’s renting a private island and we’re going to party all weekend on it. But here they are, and by partying she means having non stop sex. Lando had surprised them with the trip, a weekend getaway for the three of them. They’d be dropped off Friday and picked up Tuesday, and from the moment the boat left on Friday to the moment it returned Tuesday, they would be alone.

It’s almost comical how fast they got their hands on her, they’d carried the bags into the house and then immediately got to work undressing her. She was naked within seconds (not hard, she had a dress and panties so while Oscar slipped his hands under the dress and pulled her panties down, Lando unzipped the dress and slipped the straps off her shoulders. And just like that, she was naked and Oscar was on his knees before her as Lando lifted her left knee onto Oscar’s shoulder. He held her up as Oscar gave her the first of many orgasms to be had over the weekend.

She didn’t know why she bothered packing a suitcase when their plan was clearly to keep her naked and full of their cocks. The next morning she wore a bikini out for a swim. It was promptly lost in the ocean when they decided to join her for a dip in the early morning waves. (Upon returning to civilization, she immediately donated a profuse amount to ocean clean up, on Oscar and Lando’s dime because they removed the top and bottom and let them go, despite her warnings not to.) When they returned from the beach and she redressed after losing her bikini, the clothes only lasted an hour before Oscar was stripping her off and dipping is head between her thighs, wondering out loud if the cum he’d filled her with on the beach was still coating her walls even after she showered.

She put on pajamas and took a nap afterwards, Oscar’s wandering hands and mouth having tired her out. Her pajamas were only one of their shirts that she stole from their bag, and panties. Panties that when she woke, were pressed to the side with Lando’s cock buried in her, she fell back asleep as he kissed her shoulder and told her he’d take care of her.

The third time she redressed was after showering with Oscar that night, after waking to hearing the shower running and joining him, still slick between her thighs from Lando’s earlier ministrations. Lando was cooking in the kitchen when they got out, resting at the head of the table as his sauce simmered and his loves showered. He looked up when they entered the room, eyes scanning their blissed out faces before he beckons her forward. Oscar had just fucked her in the shower moments before, and his cum was most definitely still inside of her; she could feel the mixture of their cum dripping into her panties. His words made her clench, her sensitive pussy begging for more as he teased, “I think I’ll have my dessert before dinner tonight.” Lando lifted her onto the table in front of him, pushed her back so she was lying flat and tugged her panties down her legs. He let out a delighting hum as he saw the mess between her thighs, strings of cum stretching between the panties and her abused cunt. He looked over to Oscar standing in the doorway, and smirked as he lifted her thighs to hook them over his shoulders. “Would you mind finishing dinner? I’m starving.”

Oscar returns his smirk and nods, turning to the kitchenette and makes his way to the stove as Lando’s mouth meets her center. He spares glances over as he stirs the sauce, his mouth watering as he sees her arching her back and playing with her tits with one hand while the other pulls Lando’s hair. He wishes he’d brought his phone so he could photograph it, but he can’t remember where he last had it.

She doesn’t redress after that. Lando pulls her into his lap when Oscar brings their plates of spaghetti over, and they’d take turns feeding her. She fully loses the shirt an hour later halfway through a movie when Oscar loses interests and decides she’s a much better way to occupy his time, specifically his mouth on her breasts. She falls asleep naked and fucked out while they’re wiping at the mess between her thighs.

They spend most of Sunday naked in bed, trading orgasms and napping to recover the energy lost to each orgasm. They’d all be so tired from the all day sex marathon they’d miss midnight, and away from civilization there’s no fireworks to wake them. She wakes up in the middle of the night and realizes instantly that they accidentally slept through it, but she’d fail at waking either of the two men up and go back to sleep after pecking them both on the lips.

Lando would be the only one really disappointed, admitting he wanted to make them both cum right at midnight and that was the whole reason he booked this trip, was so they couldn’t be tricked into going to a party last minute and he’d have nothing stopping them from fucking all night like he wanted. They’d console him by reminding him they still have a full twenty eight hours on the island before the boat returned to pick them up, so they could still celebrate the new year just fine. She wouldn’t touch her suitcase until she actually saw the boat on the horizon, worried she’d get dressed only to have her boyfriends strip her back down and have at her again. At least when she’s already naked, they don’t have many obstacles stopping them from easily slipping inside of her.

[littlelalu]

In the Spirit of Halloween | Milo Manheim (Fluff)

NOTE: Happy Saturday everyone! As promised, here is the other Halloween one. I am slowly having more free time. Hoping to write more this upcoming week.  Let me know if you guys have any suggestions like more smut?  More fluff? More Milo? Make a zed / Wally/Ryan/Joseph?

Have a good weekend.

Y/N = Your Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The months of October have been crazy for Milo and me. From going to Halloween parties every Friday and Saturday to going to haunted houses and Halloween-themed escape rooms on Sundays, we were doing our best to spend as much time together as possible before he leaves to film. Since I work Monday through Friday, the weekends are when we have more time together.

Today is officially Halloween and it’s been raining all day. Milo and I had planned on dressing up and passing out candy to trick-or-treaters, but we just decided to stay in and celebrate anyway.

“Y/N?” I heard Milo’s voice coming from our bedroom.

“Yeah?” I responded from our bathroom. I always shower when I get home from work.

“Come in the kitchen when you’re done!”

I finished up my shower and got out to put on some comfortable ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ pajamas. I went to the kitchen when I was done. Milo was looking in our pantry for something.

“Here!” I said happily.

Milo turned around. I noticed he changed his clothes too. When I got home, he was wearing his usual t-shirt and jeans, but he changed into a cute Oogie Boogie onesie pj’s. He looks so adorable.

I giggled instantly when I saw him.

“You like my outfit?” He said as he did a quick spin showing it off.

“Yes, I do. You look cute” I told him. “So, what did you call me for exactly?”

He smiled mischievously. “I found some stuff that can make our Halloween date better”

I looked at him suspiciously. “Okay… What did you find?”

Milo went to the fridge and pulled out some stuff as I sat on one of the stools we have here. He brought them in front of me. Pillsbury pizza crust, mozzarella, pizza sauce, and my all-time favorite, Pillsbury Halloween cookies.

“Were making our pizzas?” I asked excitedly.

“Yes, BUT….” He said as he turned around and looked through our drawer. He turned back around to face me and showed me some Halloween cutouts we had.

“Oh, my goodness. This sounds like fun! Thank you, babe,” I said as I got up and walked up next to him.

“You’re welcome. I know you were a bit bummed out earlier about our plans changing.”

“I was a little bit, but with us going out a lot, I realized alone time with you and no one else around sounded amazing.”

“Agreed. Let’s not do that again next year. Except maybe the escape rooms. I liked those”

“Nerd,” I said jokingly.

“You know what. I’ll take that as a compliment because, without me, you would still be stuck there.” Milo said. We slightly laughed. “I’m going to miss moments like these,” Milo said to me as our gazes met again.

“Me too.”

“But as soon as I am done, I am coming home straight to you,” Milos said as he placed his hands on my waist and mine did the same to his. I would wrap my arms around his neck, but our height difference does not allow us to do so.

I smiled at him. “Good. I will be here waiting”

“I love you, Y/N”

“I love you, too, Milo.”

Milo leaned down and kissed me. I kissed him back. It was a quick kiss though, so we had to pull back.

“Shall we get started?” Milo asked.

“Yes! I’m getting hungry already.”

Milo began opening both cans of Pillsbury pizza crust. He laid one crust in front of me and the other in front of him. He put the Halloween cutouts he had found in front of us as well. I saw him reach for the pumpkin cut out. I picked the ghost cut out. We pressed them on our dough.

“Mine looks like a chunky pumpkin right now,” Milo said as he pointed to his pumpkin-shaped crust. 

I giggled. “My ghost looks a little lopsided, but it’s okay. It makes it look spookier”

He laughed. “Oh, it’s spooky alright” 

We took turns cutting our pizza into different shapes. 

“These are very….” Milo said as he looked at both of our creations together. “Unique!”

“They do,” I said as we laughed. 

Milo passed me the jar of pizza sauce and the mozzarella.

“I couldn’t find pepperoni here. I know you like it sometimes.”

“It’s fine. The cheese will do” 

We covered our pizza crusts with sauce and mozzarella cheese. Once we were done Milo transferred them onto a baking tray. Our little figure truly looked funny. He preheated the oven while we cleaned up and washed our hands.

When the oven beeped, Milo placed the tray in the oven.

“Do you want to prepare the cookies now or after we eat?” Milo asked as he picked up the cookie packet.

“Let’s do it right now so we can watch a horror movie without having to pause.”

“Are you just saying that because you’ll be too scared to walk to the kitchen after watching half a movie?”

“Maybe...” 

Milo laughed. “Okay, you big baby”

“Hey last time we watched a horror movie, you were the one who was terrified of getting up at night”

“I thought we weren’t gonna talk about that anymore…. Oops”

Milo playfully glared at me. “Meanie”

I laughed and opened the cookie package. “Which tray are we going to use for these?”

Milo went to look in our cabinets for an extra tray. “Found one!”

He brought over the tray, and we began to align the cookies in rows. Once we were done, the pizzas were done. Perfect timing.

Milo took our pizzas and put our cookies in. 

“At least now we can wait for the pizzas to cool down while the cookies bake,” Milo said. “Wanna clean up here while I set up the living room?” 

“Sure,” I said. 

Milo nodded and left the kitchen. I began to pick up our mess in the kitchen. 

By the time the timer went off for the cookies, I was done cleaning. I took out the tray and placed it next to the pizza tray.

“Babe!” I said from the kitchen. “Everything is ready. Want me to serve us?” 

“Yes please!” I heard Milo respond.

I pulled out some cute Halloween-themed plates I found the other day and placed our pizzas in one and our cookies in the other. I also bought us these cute ghost cups a couple of days ago. I got those out and served us some coke. 

I grabbed the plates first and walked to the living room. When I got there, it was nicely decorated. The Halloween décor we had around the house was now all over our living room but looked great. Blankets all over our couch. What I loved the most was the cute Halloween lights. Purple, orange, and red. 

“No wonder you were so quiet,” I said. “Oh, Milo this looks amazing.”

Milo smiled. “Thank you. I wanted to make it extra for you.”

I walked over to the living room table and placed the plates there. “You always do.” 

“Why don’t you get comfortable and pick the movie while I go get us our drinks”

“Sure. I already served them though. They’re on the counter.”

Milo went to the kitchen to grab our drinks and came back. “These are adorable. Where’d you get these?”

“Probably family dollar or dollar tree… I saw them and thought they were cute”

Milo giggled. “What movie did you pick?” 

“I picked the original IT movie”

“I guess we’re spending the night in the living room tonight” Milo joked.

The rest of the night we spent it in the living room. We ate our pizzas and some cookie. 

Milo cuddled me close to him. The smell of his cologne calmed me down a bit. I did find it funny how he would easily jump or yell “oh shit” when he would get scared. I think I ended up cuddling him more during the night since he got more scared than me.

[newtthetranswriter]

could you write yuta x reader, just a cute college au with maybe a jealous juts at or party or a study session in the dorms fluff? please and thank you if you want lol

Pairing: Yuta x gn!reader

Word count: 2076

A/n: Hey thank you for requesting this. I had fun writing it. Yuta is one of my favorites so it was nice writing for him again. I hope this is what you were hoping for, I’m not sure if I really captured the Jealous Yuta but I tried. Also the college part is implied, it worked best for me to leave them in the normal jjk world with curses and stuff but I tend to write with the mindset of everyone is aged up to college age, so hopefully it works for you, Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

It’s the Friday before exams which typically means a weekend long study session. Each time we do this a different member of our group is chosen to host in their dorm, this time I’m the lucky one to host our crazy group. Study sessions with this group always go wrong in some way, be it because someone ends up spilling something over everyone's books while being dumb cough Panda cough, or if anyone falls asleep they get a lovely drawing on their face courtesy of Toge. But I'm determined to make this session go on without anything going wrong.

You see, I have a foolproof plan to make everything go well. No drinks near books, no dips or sauces, and definitely no pens or markers. I gathered all the supplies we would need, that also wouldn’t pose a problem to our study session. Colored pencils instead of highlighters and pens, flash cards, chips, drinks in spill proof containers and an abundance of paper towels just in case.

“Welcome to my room, now put every pen and marker or anything that can be used for vandalism in this box. Take a seat on the floor and then I will go over the rules.” I said holding out a lock box as I greeted my four friends as they entered. I received a disgruntled look from Toge as he begrudgingly placed all his writing utensils in the box.

As everyone took a seat in a circle on the floor getting out their books, Panda paused for a second before piping up, “Hey wait what do you mean rules, and why are the pens and markers being locked up.” Toge nodded in agreement, being upset about having his favorite weapons taken from him.

“Well you see, everytime we have a study session someone causes trouble. There are three rules for this weekend. One, if a drink can not be sealed with a lid, is to stay on the table. Two, no dip or sauces around the books or note pads, if you want to snack it has to be at the table. And finally all the pens and markers are locked in this box which only I know the code to, as no one here needs a temporary tattoo on their face.” I said with a slight glare at the cursed speech user.

“Makes perfect sense but what are we supposed to use for color coding if all the markers are locked up?” Yuta asked, looking at me with confusion.

“Colored pencils, I picked up a bunch and there’s a pencil sharpener in the middle if its needed.”  I responded while sitting down between him and Toge so we could start our study session.

We were currently all studying for our math exam, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to look at Toge who was writing something down in one of his notebooks after confirming that he had my attention. He had a slight look of confusion on his face as he wrote out his question.

How do you solve this equation again, letters in math don’t make sense at all. I smiled gently before grabbing my own set of notes to explain how to solve the problem. What I failed to notice was a certain sword user was looking at us. I didn’t see the hint of envy in his eyes as I leaned close to our friend to teach him the math problem.

After about another hour of studying math we all decided to take a short break, we all moved to the small table I had in my room to eat some chips and drink some energy drinks cause we all knew it was going to be a long night. While drinking my rockstar I started a conversation with Toge, just checking to make sure he understood the material we were studying after I had helped with his previous question. I once again failed to pay attention to the other things happening around me, as Yuta was once again watching the interaction between me and our friend.

It seemed that even though I missed the look of jealousy flash across his face, a certain green haired woman definitely saw it and decided now would be the perfect time to have some fun.

P.O.V switch (3rd person)

Maki wasn’t normally the kind of person to meddle in other people's lives but when it came to embarrassing Yuta, that was fair game in her mind. He just made it so easy. Watching the look of jealousy flash across his face as two of their friends talked about math two feet away just lite a fire in her mind and she just wanted to poke the bear.

“Hey Yuta” she said, tapping his shoulder pulling his attention away from the two friends. “You think Inumaki and Y/L/N would make a good couple? I mean they get along so well, and Y/n seems to understand Toge perfectly despite his limited vocabulary.” She asked, trying to get a reaction out of the shy boy.

“Ummm- I- I’m not sure, I mean maybe, I don’t see why not” Yuta hesitated as he scratched the back of his head nervously. Maki could hear the slight sadness in his voice as he forced himself to agree.

“I mean I wouldn’t be surprised if they were secretly dating already, he’s had their attention all night, They have barely even spoken to any of us but him.” Maki continued trying to get more of a reaction out of the poor boy.

Hearing the conversation Panda also decided it was time to poke fun at Yuta. “Maki’s right Yuta, I haven’t seen Y/n this focused since Gojo let us pick anything in the mall for him to buy.”

Yuta turned back towards his two friends who were now chuckling about something he hadn’t heard. “You guys are probably right, they look really happy together.” He said with a frown before moving back to his seat in the circle of textbooks and notes. After everyone had got done snacking they all moved back to the floor to keep studying.

P.O.V back to first person

After another couple hours almost everyone had passed out on the floor of my dorm. It was getting close to three in the morning so it was understandable, but what shocked me most was that me and Yuta are the last two awake. Normally Yuta is the first one to fall asleep and fall victim to Toges trash doodling, but I guess having his weapons taken made the light haired boy not care about being the last one awake. I’m still confused as to why Yuta was awake but I brushed it off as him just wanting to study longer.

I was almost done with a note card for our history exams when I heard Yuta clear his throat. I looked up at him prompting him to say what he was going to as the look on his face said he wanted to say something.

“I- Is- urgh- Is there anything going on between you and Inumaki?” I stared confused at my friend as he asked one of the weirdest questions I’ve heard in awhile.

Finally gaining the ability to process thoughts again. “What do you mean, Me and Toge are just friends, where is this coming from anyway?” I asked, really confused as to why yuta would think I liked Toge that way. Sure he was a great friend but that’s all he is to me, a friend. If I liked anyone it’d be Yuta, he’s sweet, caring and always knows how to cheer people up.

“W- well you guys seem really close, and you’ve spent most of the night chatting with him, and it’s like you can understand everything he says even though he doesn't speak normally.” I watched as Yuta started to get flustered. “I-i just assumed you liked him, and I mean it’s fine if you do, I was just curious.”

“Yuta there is nothing going on between me and Toge. I’ve been chatting with him all night because he’s dyslexic and was having trouble with the fact that some math problems have letters in them.” I said, trying to explain myself. “And as for understanding him, I’ve known him for a long time, I’ve learned to use context clues when talking to him. If everyone is having a happy conversation, he’s probably also trying to share in the joy. He also will text or write down stuff he has to say that he can’t express properly with onigiri ingredients.”

“Okay that makes sense, but when everyone was eating you guys were laughing there’s no way you were laughing about an algebra problem?” Yuta responded, still trying to figure everything out.

I blushed slightly, I know exactly what he’s talking about. When we were all up getting snacks, Toge had written a message in his book about the fact that he thought Yuta had a crush on me because he keeps staring at me; I was laughing because I thought it was absurd, there’s no way Yuta likes me. I mean yeah it’s weird that he seems so concerned about the status of mine and Toge’s friendship but he’s probably just being protective.

“Oh, Toge was just telling me about something stupid that he watched one of the first years do earlier.” I said, trying to brush it off. But I guess I failed at hiding the blush on my cheeks because Yuta didn’t drop it.

He looked at me skeptically before grabbing the abandoned notebook that sat by Toge’s sleeping face, Flipping through to the most recent pages. I tried to reach for his hand to stop him but I was too late. He was already reading one half of my previous conversation.

“Yuta, you shouldn’t be doing that, it's Toge’s book, put it back.” I tried to reason with him as I watched his eyes widen as he continued reading Toge’s comments to me about finally confessing my feelings to the boy with cursed power that was only second to that of Satoru Gojo.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting for his reaction Yuta just set the notebook down and smiled at me. “You know, he was right, you should have just told me sooner. It would have saved us both some trouble and I would have been able to do this a lot sooner.” He said leaning closer to me. I was about to ask what he meant but I was cut off by the feeling of his soft lips meeting mine. It was quick but still conveyed every emotion neither of us had the courage to put into words.

As we pulled apart Yuta looked into my eyes, “I’ve liked you for a while now, if you don’t mind after exams are done I would love to take you out for lunch some time. I-if you want to t-that is.” And just like that he was back to the stuttering mess I fell in love with.

“Yuta, I would love to go out with you.” I responded standing up and grabbing his hand. I pulled him up and stepped over our three friends, passed out on the floor and moved to my bed. Normally when these study sessions turned into sleep overs, everyone would sleep on the floor except the person who’s room it was, but I figured fuck it. This is my room and if I want to cuddle with my new boyfriend, I will. “Come on we should really get some sleep” I said as i sat down on my bed sliding towards the wall to give him space to lay down with me.

“A-are you sure, I mean I'm fine sleeping on the floor. Plus won’t they think it’s weird if they wake up and we’re sharing your bed?” Yuta asked, a massive blush on his face as he slowly sat down on the edge of my.

“Oh stop worrying about it, just lay down and sleep. We’ll deal with them tomorrow, they’ll find out one way or another. Also it’s my room. I make the rules, if they don’t like it, well sucks to suck.” I said pulling him to lay next to me. Realizing I’m serious, Yuta finally relaxes. I let out a relaxed sigh as I cuddled up to him and finally let sleep take over.

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 27/?

Prev | Next

It's Danny's Birthday!

Wow, I was surprised at the support I got on the last chapter with the PTA rivalry. We won't see Avril for a few chapters, but I already have a few ideas.

Danny’s birthday fell on a Friday. Jason asked his little boy if he wanted to have a party with his classmates. He said no.

“I’d rather spend it with you, daddy, and then have a sleepover with Lian.”

So, on Danny’s birthday, Jason took Danny to work on the Mustang instead of going to school. Hank instantly fell for Danny. It helped that the little boy knew about cars, their parts, and the tools used to fix them.

“You’ve taught that boy well,” Hank said while giving Danny some hard candy.

“Thanks,” Jason said. It’s not like he could mention his son came with that knowledge from before.

Jason spent the day with his son while Jazz fixed the house with balloons, bought the cake, and arranged the presents. He didn’t want to leave everything to her, but Jazz had insisted that Danny deserved to spend his birthday with his father.

Jason’s smile didn’t leave the whole day.

Jason bought Danny a burger, fries, a shake, and a sundae for lunch. Jason couldn’t help but laugh with Danny as he wiped the chocolate sauce off his little boy’s face. They fixed the car for a while longer, then walked around the village. At Danny’s insistence, they stopped at a bookstore. He didn’t know why Danny wanted to go to that particular bookstore so badly. Jason felt a weird but nice energy around the place.

It had just opened and seemed to have every genre of books under its small roof. Jason had fun browsing and was already thinking of when he could come back.

Danny went straight to the science books and found a bunch of engineering and, surprise, surprise, space—particularly alien technology and culture. Jason also got a few books that piqued his interest. He got a few trashy romance books, two sci-fi ones, and one with the entire collection of Emily Brontë. Surprisingly, it had been published a few years after her death and was in pristine condition.

“Did you gentlemen find everything you needed?”

Jason’s skin started to get goosebumps, and his breath came out in smokey wisps.

The cashier was pale with vivid green eyes, black hair, a goatee, and pointy ears. He had glasses, a scarf, and a purple coat over a gray shirt. Jason could see fangs when he smiled.

“Hey, Ghost Writer,” Danny greeted.

“Danny, do you know this…gentleman?”

“Yeah, he’s a ghost. He used to help me with my English homework. He keeps records of everything ever written in his library in the Infinite Realms. What are you doing here?”

“Well, little one, after we heard what happened with the Fentons, a few of us were worried. I volunteered to find you.”

“Really, why? You hate leaving your library.”

“I was worried. Despite how we met, you were one of the few ghosts that would visit me. I missed my friend. Although, I’m surprised to see you so small. And who is this with you?”

“This is my daddy, Jason. He loves to read! He reads me bedtime stories at night.”

“Ah, a fellow bibliophile. Always nice to meet someone who appreciates the written word.”

Jason shook the ghost’s hand; it was cold.

“You’re like Danny, aren’t you? Another halfa.”

Jason nodded.

“Well, it’s good to see someone who cares for Danny. Come by anytime you want.”

“You’re going to stay?”

“Yes, this dimension is…interesting. I think I’ll hang around for a while. Maybe find some new inspiration for my writing.”

Jason didn’t know what to think about the other ghost. Hell, he hadn’t met any other ghosts and was a little weirded out that he seemed so…normal. He even gave them a discount.

“Ghost discount,” he said with a wink, “come back whenever you want! And do recommend my shop to anyone who likes books. I have everything from romance to arcane magic.”

Jason filed that away. He should send Raven along. She could give a read on the place.

They went back home. Danny hummed as he read his new books. After seeing Ghost Writer, he seemed in better spirits (pun intended.)

Jazz had done a great job with the decorations. It turned out Raven, Roy, and Lian had also come early to help set up. Jason hugged Raven greeted Roy with a high five, and Lian with a secret handshake.

Danny ran up to Lian and immediately got her attention. He showed off his books, glad to have his cousin, aunt, and uncle around for his birthday. Soon, the two kids were running off with each other.

They freaked out Roy a bit when Danny was flying in circles with Lian in his arms. The kids laughed at Roy’s distress before Raven got the two children. She used the shadows to make figures to entertain the kids. Even little Ellie enjoyed the show.

Then came presents and cake.

The cake had been ordered to be shaped like a rocket. Danny loved it.

The presents came after the cake.

Lian had convinced Grandpa Ollie to get an autograph from Martian Manhunter. Danny squealed in delight at the photograph with the signature. He hugged Lian tightly and stared at it. Jason promised they would get it framed as soon as possible so it wouldn’t get ruined.

Auntie Raven had gotten Danny a lamp that projected stars and planets and changed colors. Danny hugged his aunt, and Raven couldn’t help but feel warmth at the happiness coming off the little boy.

Next, Danny opened Jazz’s present. She gave him a gold locket with a crescent moon and the North Star. In the locket was a picture of Jason and Jazz holding Ellie. Danny put it around his neck and hid it under his shirt. He didn’t want to lose it.

Uncle Roy had gotten Danny a black and silver star globe. It showed every constellation, and the best part, it glowed in the dark. He’d be able to see the stars in his room.

Even though she hadn’t shown up, Talia had also sent a gift. Jason had been a bit nervous, worried it would be another weapon. He sighed in relief when he saw it was a green blanket with gold embroidery. It was lined in fur and obviously very expensive. Even though Danny didn’t really like Talia (she had made his daddy anxious), he couldn’t help but rub his face on the soft material. He would keep it.

Lastly came his daddy’s present. He opened it with gusto. He gasped when he saw a build-your-own model of the Watch Tower Satellite. It had 1,500 pieces and would be three feet tall when completed. It had cost Jason a pretty penny to get it, but getting his son’s toothy grin and hug was worth it.

Afterward, Roy and Lian showed Danny how to use a bow and arrow. Lian even showed off a little at how better she was at it. Danny pouted, but eventually, he started getting the hang of it. He even asked Jason if he could have archery lessons.

“Sure, chum, I’ll see what I can do.”

“What do you mean, ‘you’ll see what you can do?’ I’m right here to teach the little tyke.”

Jason pretended to think about it and sighed dramatically, “Alright, I guess.”

“Why you, little,” Roy chased Jason around. Jason couldn’t help but laugh at his older brother’s antics. He paused for a moment, and Roy tackled him.

Older brother. Somewhere along the way, Roy had become a brother to him and Raven an older sister.

Could I have had this with Dick if I hadn’t come back wrong?

He dismissed the thought. Right now, it was about being happy and spending time with his family.

That night, they started a campfire and roasted some marshmallows. Danny pointed out the constellations and talked about the myths behind them as his little family listened with rapt attention. Jazz and Jason had set up two tents.

While Lian and Danny would sleep in one, Roy and Jason would sleep in another. Raven and Jazz would sleep in the house so Ellie wouldn’t be alone. The two kids didn’t get much sleep. They played with flashlights and told ‘scary’ stories while their fathers listened to the giggling next to them.

“We have great kids,” Roy said.

“Yeah,” Jason answered.

“And I have a great brother and sisters,” Jason said. Roy looked at him and smiled.

Jason closed his eyes as the contentment surrounding him lulled him to sleep.

Special thanks to Jozette_Rosewood_125 for giving me the idea to include Ghost Writer. He won't show up for a bit, but I'll write him again.

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife