#he either sleeps in front of the tv or in a box

[beejsdevilishsoulmate]

Loki has decided that the spot right in front of the sensor on the TV is a good place to sleep...

[luveline]

hi jade! I remember a while back you wrote a drabble about hotchner!reader having a really bad panic attack and Spencer and Aaron helping her at the hospital, and it gave me a lot of comfort to read it. would you be interested in writing something about Spencer and Aaron taking care of hotchner!reader as she adjusts to her new meds?

—Spencer and your brother, Aaron, take care of you when your new prescription gives unexpected side effects. fem (adopted) 2k

When things got quiet at home, you’d get tense. 

Your apartment is silent. No whir of the heating, no washing machine clatter, no voices. You sit on the couch with your legs pulled up, turned to the armrest with your cheek pressed to the seat's backing. Your phone is in your hand at a low percentage. You’ll get up to charge just as soon as you can remember what you’d wanted to be doing in the first place. 

Spencer was going to call you. He’s sweet, really. You didn’t expect for love to feel easy; you never thought someone could like you without allowances. You’re quiet sometimes, your nerves are shot. You ask for reassurance too much, too often, and you don’t believe them when they’re given. 

You aren’t smart, or funny, or particularly hard-working. 

But Spencer loves you, you’re almost certain. Or maybe he’s just content to be half happy. It wouldn’t surprise you if he called you to break up with you —what use have you been to him lately? You’re tired everyday. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you never want to go out. You can barely make it through the working day. 

Your phone beeps in your hand. 

Outside, it says. If Spencer’s there, please make sure he’s fully dressed.

You manage to smile weakly. Aaron saw Spencer once getting out of the shower, and he was dressed, thank you very much. You hadn’t done anything salacious as he might’ve assumed from the situation, just showered together, but Aaron always lets you know before visiting now. 

Doesn’t ask, by the way, but you don’t actually want him to. He’s like, the only good thing in your life beside Spencer. 

Aaron lets himself in and finds you immediately. “Hey, honey,” he says. 

He slipped into the affectionate older brother role not long after meeting you, and he’s been worse since you were in the hospital. Which is to say, gentler with you. 

He slips a bag of groceries onto the counter. He pans around the room. It’s cleaner than usual here, but none of the lights are on, nor the TV. You can see him notice it. 

“You okay?” he asks, pulling groceries from the bag. He’s brought milk, bread, eggs, and fresh soups from the nice store nearby. “It’s quiet in here.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Yeah? Any wobbles?” 

He’s asking if you’ve had a panic attack or anything like it, but for the last few days you’ve felt veritably numb. “I’m okay,” you say. 

You should bring up your symptoms. Clearly, lexapro either isn’t right for you or the dosage is too much; you’re a zombie these last couple of days. Medications don’t always work straight away, so for a time you’d felt like your script was useless, serving only to make you nauseous, but the sickness has finally gone away. 

He opens the fridge to put away the groceries. He’s sliding the bread into your bread box when he says, “Honey, aren’t you gonna answer that? Your phone?”

You blink down at your phone. Spencer’s contact glows in front of a green background. 

You click answer and pull it to your ear. “Hello?” you ask softly. 

“Hey, angel. How are you feeling today?” 

You clear your throat. “Fine.” 

“I was thinking I’d come over?” 

“You’re outside?” you ask. 

“How’d you know that?” 

“Must be something in the water.”

“I’ll come up now. I brought some things for dinner.” 

You manage your first laugh that dreary day. It’s nearly normal. “Okay. I might not have room.” 

Spencer promises to be up quickly and disconnects the call. You lift your chin to find Aaron already looking at you. “Do I look okay?” you ask. 

“Beautiful, don’t worry.”

“Is this an ambush?” you ask. 

“Not an intentional one. Can I make you something to drink?” 

He’ll make you something you like, you trust. You try to sit properly on the couch before Spencer gets here, rubbing under your eyes, checking there’s nothing on your t-shirt and sweatpants. It might not matter if there were, you know Spencer thinks you’re pretty without makeup or fancy clothes, but he doesn’t necessarily have to be truthful about it. 

“Aaron,” you say, before you can forget, “did… was Jack’s soccer okay?”

He passes you a mug, squeezing your shoulder lovingly. “It was great. I’ll show you the photos.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t go.” 

You were supposed to. Spencer even drove to pick you up, but he got here and your meds weren’t working and your heart was beating wrong, so you stayed home. 

“It’s okay.” Aaron looks like he wants to hug you, but he doesn’t. “Nobody’s mad at you for that.” 

“For other things?” 

“Nothing.” 

Your door opens again. Spencer bursts in with two things, a brown paper bag of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. It’s a pretty huge bouquet, as they go, white and pink flowers, cornflower blue chrysanthemums spotted throughout, the end of his scarf stuck in the flowers and his coat unbuttoned in the struggle. “Hey. Hi, Hotch.” 

“Spencer,” Aaron says, which is strangely warm. 

Spencer shoves the bouquet aside to see you. “Hi, you okay?” 

You force yourself to stand. It’s obvious you’re not feeling right, your head whirring, but you have to make sure he still wants you. “Spencer.” 

He puts the bouquet down. The groceries next. “Angel,” he says, meeting Aaron’s eyes quickly, then back to you, where he smiles sympathetically, “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You’ve only taken a few steps toward him when he catches you for a hug. It’s nice and polite, but not without tenderness. He doesn’t pull your weight in like he would if you were alone, but he holds your back and sits a quick kiss against your cheek as he pulls away. 

“I don’t really know, a few days?” you suggest. 

“You could’ve told me. Or Hotch, you know?” 

“I know, I was going to, just–” You press your hand to your eyes. “Didn’t really notice it was happening.” 

“Don’t get upset,” Aaron says, coming to join you both in the kitchen. “It’s alright. Spencer isn’t scolding you, he just wants you to know we’re here for you no matter what happens.” 

“I don’t feel like myself,” you say.

“That’s okay,” Aaron furthers, holding you by the shoulder, his hand settling behind the nape of your neck, “we can talk to your doctor again, this isn’t permanent. We’ll talk to them today, if it’s what you need.” 

“I’m sorry. Not many people have such an adverse effect to lexapro, I was hoping you wouldn’t be an exception,” Spencer says. 

To your surprise, Aaron answers for you, “You couldn’t have known. This is just something we’ll have to keep doing together.” 

Someone sits you down. Aaron warms his fancy soups and toasts the bread he brought, making a plate and bowl for each of you without asking. Spencer barely balks. You manage another laugh, for which you’re rewarded with two smiles. 

Aaron can’t stay much longer, having to pick up Jack from Jess’, but he offers to come back. You decline, not wanting Jack to see you feeling as depressed as you are. He promises to call the doctor tonight and leaves in a rush. He must’ve stayed longer than he should’ve. 

Spencer is more forthcoming with soft touches once he’s gone. He didn’t eat much but neither did you, pushing the plates across the coffee table. He’s still wearing his coat. 

Fond, you reach for his chest and begin slipping buttons from the eyelets. “You’re staying, right?” you murmur. 

“If you’ll have me.” 

You open his coat and push it away from his shoulders. He dressed fancy even when he’s not going anywhere, it’s so strange, the button up and the tie and the sweater vest, all of it, but you love it. You run your hand down his vest. He lets his head dip forward. Not for kissing, just to be near. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Just feel wrong.” 

“It’s not really a good idea to stop taking the lexapro now. It’s technically an antidepressant, and your body won’t adjust well.” He holds your waist as you hold his. “But this is weird, huh?” 

“Feels weird.” 

“Short term, uh, I think we should just try and make sure you feel alright today. Is there anything you need?” he’s murmuring, rubbing his thumb into the soft of your stomach. “I can get anything. Or we can do anything.” 

“You don’t have to… worry about me.” 

“Are you kidding?” he asks softly.

“We haven’t been…” You trail your hand to his stomach, where it stays. “I just don’t expect you to deal with this, you didn’t sign up for this.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. I had no idea what I’d find out about you or what you might go through when we first met, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to take care of you then, and I do now,” he says simply.

“It’s not good timing for me to be like this.” 

“Stuff happens all the time. I wouldn’t want to wait for you to be perfect before we met.” He smiles genuinely. “Not that you’re not perfect.” 

“I really feel like I’m not even me.” 

“You’re you,” he says, dipping so close to you that you can’t see his face anymore, just his skin.

You slouch into his chest, coaxed by long, lithe arms cradling you, as kind as anyone’s ever touched you. He smells clean, your nose finding its way to his stiff collar. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“You don’t have to be. Nobody wants you to be sorry, okay?” 

It’s a new feeling. Spencer spends the night with you on the couch and doesn’t for a moment seem like it’s something he doesn’t wanna do. You end up laying on his chest, his fingers drawing lines like a meandering figure skater up your back. Twirls and loops, long laps around your spine. When your phone rings, he’s nice enough to click answer and hold it to your ear. 

“Aaron?” you ask sleepily. 

“Hey, honey. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you back to Dr. Chester’s office, alright? If you don’t want to keep taking your lexapro, don’t. But if you can manage it, take another tonight, and we’ll figure out the new plan after your appointment.” 

“Okay,” you say, feeling very small. “Thank you for doing that for me.” 

“I’d do anything. Jack says he loves you, he’s making you a painting of yourself. He’s very good at the colours.” 

“I bet he is,” you say loudly. In the background, you can hear Jack’s pleased little thank you. 

“Do you want to talk a while?” he asks.

“That’s okay, Aaron, I’m half asleep on Spencer right now.” 

“Good, that’s good. Tell him to take good care of you, okay? Or I won’t be happy.” 

Spencer laughs above your head. “When is he ever happy?” he jokes in a whisper. 

“Shh,” you say, giving Spencer a light shove. “He says he will.” You swallow a lump, as you’ve had to do all day, but it isn’t rawness that colours your voice now. “I love you. Thank you for, uh, calling the doctor. Thanks.” 

“I love you too. I’ll leave you to sleep now. I’ll come at eleven, alright?” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow,” you say. 

Your voice is weak. Spencer pulls the phone away and hangs it up, tossing it without force onto the coffee table, before wrapping his arm around you snugly. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Spencer says. “You’ll see, things aren’t going to be like this forever. It’s statistically impossible.” 

“Ooh,” you croon, pressing your tired face back into his chest, “I love when you talk statistics to me. Tell me more.”

He draws shapes into your back, his voice a murmur as he starts to talk. 

[pepperyduck]

deadbeat, pt.2 - toji fushiguro

pt. 1

synopsis: still too stupid and selfish for anything good to happen.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: more angst, sort of comfort from the last part, more fighting, one (1) paragraph describing sex, toji breaks into your house, megumi is your baby, unneeded plot twist at the end, really bad writing again. (18+ mdni!)

notes: i really had not a clue for what to do as a part 2, so i stuck with canon events (kinda). i hope u like it :) please go read part 1 before reading this! it's at the top of the post! much love!!

masterlist

“megumi, stop running away from me!”

 footsteps patter against the grass as your 1-and-a-half-year-old son tries to escape you. you laugh and chase him for a little while before scooping him up in your arms. he babbles and whines, now unable to run freely, but you tell him you need to cook dinner.

a year and some months have passed since toji kicked you out. you haven’t looked back since. you’d bought a house after getting a new job, it has a beautiful back yard and enough space for you and megumi to grow freely.

the only traces of toji left in your life was the dingy wedding ring he bought – that now laid somewhere in your jewelry box – and your son, who looked just like his father. toji’s genes absolutely outshined yours in the boy. however, you were able to look at megumi with more love than anything else in this world, despite what his deadbeat father did to you.

at the end of each day, after megumi goes to sleep, you enjoy spending a few hours to yourself, watching whatever tv drama or reading a book. after you put megumi down for bed, you stay in the room for a few minutes to make sure he falls asleep, safe and sound. and when you make your way back to the living area, a scene is in front of you that stops you in your tracks.

toji.

toji’s sitting on your couch, somehow broken into your house, and he’s looking right into your eyes. you can’t move. you can’t speak. you can only stare at toji as the uncomfortable silence fills the air more and more.

“wh-,” you stutter, anything other than the small noise unable to come from your lips, and you begin to back away slowly.

something had changed with you. since you’d left toji, a certain fear grew in the back of your mind, because toji was a dangerous person, after all. you had prayed things would be left alone, because you and megumi were just fine by yourselves, and toji is the one that told you to get out. the once fearless person you were was no longer there.

and the person that scared you the most was sitting in your living room.

“hey,” toji says, cutting the anticipation in the air, “don’t back away from me.” his words stop you once more.

“toji,” you mutter, saying his name again, something toji had longed for, “why…are you here?” you ask him, shoulders beginning to relax.

“i wanted to see my wife.”

toji’s nerve immediately angers you. you weren’t his wife anymore when he kicked you and his own son out of his house. you weren’t his wife when he cheated on you that night, either. you haven’t been his wife for well over a year. the divorce hadn’t been finalized yet, and you soon know why, when your eyes trail down to the coffee table and see the neat stack of papers you had sent toji months ago.  

“i’m…i’m not your wife anymore, toji,” you sternly tell him, crossing your arms over your chest. the fear you once had quickly fades, now replaced with nothing but anger – the same anger you’ve had for toji since you left his apartment.

“i haven’t signed the papers yet,” toji retorts, “and i won’t.”

rage boils up in your chest at his words. and the audacity he has to break into your house and declare you as his wife pisses you off even more.

“get the hell out of my house, toji,” you demand, pointing a finger towards the door – just as he did to you.

toji only crosses his arms in return. he doesn’t budge.

you stomp over to toji, leaning down and grabbing the collar of his shirt in your fist, “you’re the one that left me, you bastard,” a new strength makes its way into your arm as you tug on his shirt, forcing him to stand up, dragging him towards the entrance of your home, “get the hell out of my house!” you try and throw toji towards the door, and he stumbles over his feet for a second before regaining his balance.

too many emotions are running through you for you to act rationally. tears sting your eyes as you watch toji stand there, looking at the ground, a cold expression across his features. one of his fists is balled up. veins pop out of his arm. you lean against the wall in the walkway leading to your door, slowly sliding down until you’re on the floor. you bring your knees to your chest. tears slide down your cheeks.

toji takes a step toward you and crouches down so he’s on the same level. he reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, it’s the softest he’s touched you in a long time. you want to cower away from his touch, but all the feelings you tried so hard to push deep down — all the anger, all the sorrow, all the hurt, all the love — come rushing back into you at lightning speed.

toji’s dark pupils dilate as you look into them. he gives you once small look of vulnerability, something he hadn’t even done when you were married to him. he takes a thumb to wipe away one of the tears.

he’s sorry.

the words dare not come out of his mouth, but you can see, toji is sorry.

you break.

a small whimper leaves your lips, and you throw yourself into toji, wrapping your arms around his neck. his strong arms engulf you again.

“you…asshole,” you cry into his shoulder, tears coating the fabric of the shirt you almost ripped off of him. there are no smart remarks or retorts from the man, he knows, he just knows how much he hurt you.

the pain he put you through was inevitable.

as you continue your sobbing, a different cry comes out from down the hallway. toji’s head perks up at the wailing. it’s as if your baby knows exactly what is happening.

“it’s megumi,” you sigh into toji’s chest, quickly pushing the man off you. he stands up and helps you stand along with him. toji trails behind you as you enter megumi’s room.

there’s a look of unease on his face as he watches you pick your son up and hush him, whispering sweet words to him and combing his hair with your fingers. toji can see the resemblance to himself, how his child has the same eyes, same nose, same hair, even the same tiny eyebrows. he watches you bounce megumi on your hip, slowly settling the baby’s emotions, making him tired again in the process. as you cradle the almost asleep baby in your arms, you notice toji’s uncomfortable gawking.

“do you want to hold him?” you ask toji, voice still a little uneven when you talk to him. he hesitantly nods his head. you hold the slumbering baby out, coaching toji on the most adequate way to hold the boy.

it’s a sight to see, toji holding his mini-me, bolstering the baby in his arms. toji gives you a proud look, like, “i’m actually doing it!” but of course, his emotions go no further than the look on his face. he is content holding his son in his arms, he could stay that way forever, he thinks. his scarred lips curl into a frown when you tell him he needs to put megumi back down to sleep, but begrudgingly, he hands the boy back to you to settle him in his crib.

you and toji make your way into the kitchen, a much bigger space than what was in his apartment. the conversation you tried to outrun by crying and being angry is no longer able to be looked over. toji is left in the room with you, just you. toji sits in one of the chairs at the small dining table, you lean against the counter, across the room from him. awkward silence takes up the space between you.

“why are you here, toji?” you ask the man, stirring a spoon around in a mug of whichever tea you like best.

toji rests his elbows on the back of the chair, looking everywhere but at you, “i…just wanted to see you and the baby,” he weakly admits, although, you aren’t sure if you can trust his words. inside your heart, you so desperately want him to be telling you the truth, but he hasn’t earned your trust, he hasn’t done anything to do so.

you focus your attention on the cup of tea, still furiously stirring away, as toji gets up from the chair and slowly steps towards you. it feels like hours pass as he walks over, but eventually, he’s close and trapping you against the counter. an unsteady hand sets the mug down behind you, careful not to spill the hot substance on the either of you, and you stare toji right in the eyes, seeing a tiny look of lust.

after all the time that had passed, toji could no longer peel away the emotions he felt for you. he could no longer cover them up, remain cold, and stay mean. he needed you like this. he needed that person that took a chance on him, and he knows that no one else ever will be as courageous as you were when you asked him for his number that day.

toji leans in, and presses his lips to yours, giving you a light kiss that you hadn’t had in so, so long. you close your eyelids at the contact. once again, you wrap your arms around his neck, fully embracing the contact with him – god, you missed him. you missed your husband.

his hands find their way to your waist, he’s feeling you up and down, taking his time to touch all the crevices he remembers so well. intimacy. toji couldn’t find that with anyone else but you. it doesn’t take long for things to lead up, and toji’s carrying you to the bedroom, softly laying you down on the bed as you two rip each other’s clothes off.

toji makes love to you that night. it’s not fucking, or just sex, it’s a deep connection this time, so close, so cherished. more sentimental than all the months he spent with you beforehand. his hands are all over you, his eyes never leave your face, he makes sure it feels the best for you and him. hours and hours pass by, and the whole encounter feels like a moment, a dream, something so unreal that toji thought he could never have.

you fall asleep nestled in toji’s arms, the both of you naked and sweaty, and loved. a satisfying conclusion to the night. he waits for you to doze off first, and he watches the rise and fall of your chest as you so easily fall into a slumber, next to him.

maybe it wouldn’t be a good thing later down the line, maybe allowing him back into your life will end up being a mistake again. you aren’t sure if he will even be there by the time the sun rises. toji isn’t sure this will stay permanent, his thoughts of running away cloud his brain as he watches his wife sleep next to him, so peacefully. he doesn’t know how long he will stay.

but, neither one of you really care.

toji’s eyes shoot open at the familiar sobbing of a baby. he sits straight up, covered in sweat, as if a nightmare had just ensued.

the bed is empty, he’s alone…and he remembers he’s been alone. you’ve been gone, for many months now, gone in a way you’re unable to return from.

it wasn’t a nightmare, no.

it was all a dream.

[moonstruckme]

hi Mae! I've never requested anything before, so forgive me if I'm doing this wrong. Can I request poly!marauders x reader who has a cold? I've just gotten sick and I feel icky, and these type of stories always make me feel better 😅 no worries if you can't, thank you!

Thanks for requesting lovely! You nailed it don't worry <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Your home is suspiciously quiet when Sirius enters. You and James ordinarily beat him there, but there’s no blaring TV or sound of something sizzling in the kitchen, he can’t even hear the shower running upstairs. The only evidence of either of you are your shoes by the front door, yours lined up neatly as they always are and James’ strewn a couple of feet from the doormat (as they always are). 

Sirius kicks his own shoes off, leaving them amongst James’, and starts to go in search of you upstairs. Only, as he passes the couch, he does hear something. A quiet whistling. 

He turns, and there you both are. Slumped where he couldn’t see you from the door, your body laid over James’ and his head propped at a painful-looking angle against the arm of the couch, the both of you covered in blankets. Your breath wheezes in and out of you. 

An unintentional tsking noise comes from Sirius’ mouth as he crouches beside you. He slots a hand underneath James’ neck, trying to alleviate the cruel bend. 

His boyfriend makes a sulky groaning sound. Mile-long lashes (which go sorely unappreciated by their owner, by the way; Sirius would do much better with them) flutter reluctantly as James turns his head towards Sirius. 

“Hello,” Sirius says softly, a smile tugging at his lips at the sight of the other boy’s sleep-glazed eyes. “Are you very comfortable like that?” 

“M’sweltering,” James admits, “but she’s cold.” 

Sirius feels his brows furrow. “I meant your neck, Jamie.” But it is odd that you’d be cold, considering that he’s a bit warm and he has no blankets. You don’t usually get so chilled. “She’s cold?” 

James makes a face that’s half pout, half frown. “She’s ill.” 

Sirius frowns harder, and only then does he realize how unusual it is for you not to have woken while they’re talking right above you like this. He sets the back of a hand to your forehead and finds it scorching. 

“Oh.” The coo drops from his lips almost without his notice. He feels your cheek with his other palm as if that will change things, but it’s the same. “Since when?” 

“She was home when I got here,” says James. “Don’t think she ever made it to work this morning. I gave her some paracetamol.” 

That had to have been hours ago. Sirius is about to ask if James is feverish himself, or what other delusion caused him to nap with you instead of calling him and Remus home, but you start to stir, saving your boyfriend a berating. Sirius’ attention goes to you. 

“Hey, sweetness.” He strokes his thumb along your cheekbone, hoping to wake you gently. “You’re not feeling well?” 

You make an unhappy humming sound Sirius takes to mean No. Sniffle wetly. James grabs a box of tissues from beside him on the floor and offers them to you like it’s a routine.

“When did this start?” 

You blow your nose before replying. It sounds awful, and when you’re done Sirius can see that the tip of your poor nose already looks chapped. “I think it set in overnight,” you croak. James winces at the sound of your voice. 

Sirius strokes your cheek again, doing his best not to look too severe. “And why didn’t you call us, lovely girl?” 

Over the top of your head, James mouths emphatically, She wouldn’t let me. 

You only shrug, burrowing further into your blankets. “No point. Why should you come home just because I’ve got the sniffles?” 

Sirius sighs. He gives your cheek a mean little squeeze, standing and pulling out his phone. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Hush, don’t hurt your throat.” 

You pout, but Sirius is not James, and while he’s far from immune to your sweetheart face, he won’t be swayed by it. Remus picks up on the third ring. 

“Hi, love.” He answers already sounding weary, albeit lovingly so, used to Sirius getting home around this time and calling him impatiently. Remus works too much, Sirius comes home every day itching for a kiss from all three of you; it’s a routine they both love to hate. “I’m just about to wrap up here.” 

“Right, I totally believe you,” Sirius scoffs (affectionately). Remus is always ‘wrapping up’ when Sirius calls, one chapter bleeding into the next until it’s dark and one of you goes to collect him. “I just wanted to let you know that our bird never made it to work today; she’s come down with something.” 

He can practically hear Remus’ frown forming. “She didn’t say?” 

“What do you think?” 

A sigh crackles through the line. “And bad enough that she stayed home, hm?” 

Sirius looks at you, finding your eyes still big and expression pouty. He pouts back. “Yeah, she’s got a wicked fever and whatever it is has turned her nose into a poorly tuned woodwind instrument.” 

Your expression sours. James hides a smile in your hair. “It’s only a cold,” you say. 

“Honestly, Rem, she’s incoherent.” 

Sirius can hear movement on the other end of the line, the quiet snap of his boyfriend’s laptop shutting. “I’m coming. Try to get her to drink something, please?”

He appraises you. You don’t look particularly happy with him. “I’ll try.” 

“Thanks, love. I’ll be there soon.” 

“Alright, drive safe. Love you.” 

“Love you, too.” 

“That was so unnecessary,” you complain as soon as he hangs up. 

“Sorry, I can’t understand you when you’re all stuffed up like that,” Sirius replies flippantly, pocketing his phone and crouching in front of you again. “All your consonants sound like ds and bs.” 

He uses his cold hands to his advantage, pressing them to your cheeks and allowing his genuine sympathy to surface in his expression. It wins you over quickly; you tilt your face into his touch. Fever glazed eyes droop indulgently. 

“Now, my lovely snot monster, would you like ice in your water or do you want it plain?” 

Remus bustles in when you’ve halfway drained your cup. Sirius can tell he’s worried because he hardly kicks his shoes into alignment next to each other, not taking the time to bend over and arrange them as neatly as he always does. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says in his most dulcet tone, dropping a kiss on your temple while he feels your fever with his knuckles. “Jamie, you’re not ill too, are you?” 

“No, I’m just here in solidarity,” James assures him from beneath you. “I’m tip-top, promise.” 

Remus nods, his mouth an unhappy line as he appraises the two of you. “I think you need to lose the blankets, dove. We need to get your fever down.” 

“But it’s cold,” you whine. 

“It’s not,” Sirius promises you. “It’s just that you could roast a marshmallow on your forehead right now.” 

“You can still have Jamie,” negotiates Remus, already peeling the blankets off you and balling them up out of reach. 

“S’all you really need,” James says agreeably. You look unsure, but you relax a little when he cuddles you closer. 

“And how about some tea?” Remus palms the side of your face, frowning slightly at the heat while he drags his thumb across your cheek. “It’ll help with your throat and keep you warm, yeah?” 

“Okay, yeah.” You take Remus’ hand, bringing it to your lips. Your eyes are fever bright. “Thanks, Rem. I’m sorry you came home.” 

“Now, what kind of thing is that to say?” Sirius teases. “I, for one, am very glad to have Remus home.” 

You attempt a glare; it’s poorly executed. “I meant I was sorry you called him.” 

“Well, I’m not,” Remus says firmly. Sirius fights the urge to stick his tongue out at you. “You should always call me, sweetheart. Or just any of us, but we can talk about that later.” (Oh, Sirius cannot wait. The scolding he wants to give you would have paled in comparison.) Remus gives your cheek a little pat. “I’m going to make your tea. Try to finish your water before I get back, please.” 

Sirius follows him into the kitchen, pleased to hear you asking James to pass you your water behind him. 

“Hey,” he says, coming up behind Remus at the stove. 

Remus sighs, turning around and looping his arms around Sirius’ shoulders. “Hi.” He rests his chin atop his boyfriend’s head. It’s a welcome weight. “Sorry.” 

“Sorry for what? Don’t be.” Sirius runs a hand up his spine, feeling each knob. “Sorry I worried you on the phone. I was freaked when I found her like this. She’s alright, though.” 

“She’s alright,” Remus agrees. “I just hate to see her so poorly. Her throat sounds awful, poor love.” 

“I hate that she didn’t tell anyone.” Sirius intends to sound a tad bitter, maybe with an edge of teasing, but his voice comes out whiny and wounded. 

Remus kisses his hair silently. He knows Sirius has trouble with the people he loves suffering in silence, even when it comes to things like this. “That, too.” 

“I hope you lecture her into never doing it again.” 

“That’s the hope.” 

“James aided and abetted, too.” 

The faintest traces of a smile in Remus’ voice. “You want me to do something about that, do you?” 

“If you think so.” 

“Mm. I think you just want me to be the bad guy.” 

The kettle starts to whistle, and Sirius steps out from his boyfriend’s arms, pecking him on the cheek as he gets it. “I mean, you’re already so good at it.”

[bussyyeukie]

Neon Lights and Bloody Fights

(fighter!simon x reader)

part one. part two.

Your head hurt. Like, hurt.

A throbbing rolling behind your forehead for the better part of 4 hours.

Unable to sleep, barely able to find the taste in anything you ate. You sat on your couch, leaned back and legs spread as you held the remote in your hand, eyes staring unfocused at whatever the fuck was on the old screen of the TV.

A sandwich with one bite taken out of it sat on the coffee table in front of you, next to the barely drunk cup of coffee. The drip that had spilled down the side dried, cutting a line down Snoopy's head.

Your shirt big on your frame, and your shorts had ridden up slightly, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Your hair was unbrushed and thrown into a claw clip that had actually started to sag, not exactly doing its job since you had to keep tucking hair behind your ears. Lips bitten raw, the bags under your eyes prominent as you stared blankly at the screen. You weren’t even sure if you had muted it or if you just weren’t listening.

It had been two days.

Since the fight. Since the bet. Since your newfound job with (if you had to guess) criminals.

Two days.

Mr. Price (or John, as he insisted you called him) said to expect a call from him within the week to discuss a meeting about your new position. You had offered him your number but he said it was no need, they already had it.

Your phone was sitting on the cushion next to you. It was a flip phone, nothing too fancy even in that department. Looked like something a dad who only wore cargo shorts would own. Your gaze would wander to it every few minutes, wondering when it would ring. Your feet rubbed against the carpet under them, socks gliding smoothly.

For the weather outside, it wasn’t too cold in your little apartment. But you pride yourself on keeping it cozy.

There were maybe two boxes by your front door. Poorly taped shut.

They were your ex-boyfriends. Well, it was stuff you were debating giving back to him. Not that he wasn’t around to collect it, the fucker’d been loitering outside your work and calling you nonstop to the point where he was using his friends' phones after you blocked him. Which, you didn’t mind blocking them either cause they weren’t exactly your friends, and you didn’t exactly like them.

You were beyond thankful you two didn’t live together. Suddenly grateful he had denied the offer 6 months ago, which you’re pretty positive is because he was cheating on you. But at the time you didn’t want to admit that. 

Letting your head fall back against the couch, huffing out your nose, you thought back to that night.

You haven't seen your ex the rest of the night. Only the next day when you went to his house to collect your things. Honestly you almost forgot why you had gone when you saw his face, it looked like one big mash of black and blue. Both eyes nearly swollen shut, a bandaged gash on his eyebrow, and on his cheek under his eye. A pretty busted lip, a swollen nose, his jaw even looked swollen. He was almost scared to see you, kept looking over your shoulder and flinching.

He had let you in, bracing the whole time like you were going to hit him. Which, admittedly you were going to until you saw the number that Simon and the other guy had done on him.

…Simon.

You glanced back to your phone, then to the ceiling again.

Subconsciously narrowing your eyes, you thought about the hulking man.

The way his shoulders heaved as his breath huffed into the air in front of him. Stance tall and head bent down, shoulders rounded with fists clenched. Blood coloring in the black and white tattoos drinking up the expense of his arm. Sweat dripping from his nose and splashing onto the ground in front of him. He turned to you and his face–

Blank.

“Right,” you sighed, rubbing your face and trailing your hands up to your hair, “he’s faceless…”

He was strange, the opposite of what you’d expected the man to act like. You almost wished he’d just been some cocky asshole so it didn’t confuse you as much.

Something loud happened on the TV that made you jump and look forward. Hair nearly all fallen from the sloppy excuse for an updo. A breath escaped you, jumping again as your phone rang.

The silly, bubbly song falling from the rough speakers–your friend had changed it years ago and you had no clue how to change it, so you were stuck with some preppy pop song–buzzing erratically on the cushion. Your heart was beating out of your chest, stomach turning, face burning red. You watched it buzz for a second. The brief thought of not answering shot through your mind, but you decided against it. There was no way they’d just give up after one call. An unrecognized number on the dingy yellow screen.

Your throat was dry so it didn’t do much good. Swallowing, you grabbed the phone and flipped it open, hesitantly holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

Your voice was a little scratchy, but nervously high as it echoed back to you. 

“Ah hello!” the voice on the other end was deep, rough as it struggled through your speakers, “Beautiful mornin’ init?”

You shrugged, “Um, I’m sure it is Sir.”

You hadn’t left your house this morning. It was only about 11 anyway, so it’s not like you were shut in all day.

“Ach what’d I tell ya’ about tha’, John is just fine missy,” a chuckling rang between his words, and the grin on his face was evident through the words.

“Right sir–uh John,” you put a hand to your face, pinching between your brows, “John.”

He chuckled again, deep from his belly, “Don’t worry abou' it, darlin', expect ya' know what this call’ll be abou'?”

You nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see you and felt your cheeks flush, “Yes. T-the job right?”

“Indeed,” there was some shuffling on the other side of the phone, “Meet me at 2 today, I’d like ta' speak abou' this in person, face-ta-face, ya' know, not’a mention there’s someone I wan' you ta' meet!”

Licking your lips you paused your show, a rock on your stomach, “Um, are you sure? I really, I’m not sure if today would work best, I have some things to drop…off, and–”

“No,” the word was so solid, even through the crummy speaker you shut your mouth, “You’ll be 'ere at 2:00pm, dress yerself up proper, an' bring a notepad or some'tin to write on.”

With your elbow on your knee and your head in your hand, staring at the floor under you, nodding, you answered, “O-of course, I’ll see you at 2:00. Where would–where would you like to meet?”

"I’ll send you the address, we’re all very excited to welcome ya' to the team, 'eard some good things,” you heard the door open on the other side of the door, perking up slightly, listening in. You couldn’t hear what the other man had said, but Price sighed, “Gonna 'ave'ta cut our lil' convo short, I expect to see you at 2:00 sharp.”

With that the phone was hung up, your tongue fat and choking in your mouth. You threw your phone down, annoyed. With everything, the whole stupid situation. You should just call the cops. The idea seemed bright in your head for two seconds before it fizzled out.

“No…” you sighed and looked to the clock, 11:50, “That would be dumb…”

Pushing yourself up off the couch you rubbed your face and stretched your back. You hadn’t slept well last night, or the night before. In fact you hadn’t slept the night of the fight, so you weren’t running on too much at the moment. Shuffling your way down the hall to your bedroom, you looked through your closet. Thankful at least that you had some respectable clothing due to your job, throwing a pair of gray pleated slacks and a button up on the bed.. For a moment you wondered if Price would prefer if you wore a skirt. Then you scoffed at yourself.

Wandering to your bathroom, you started a shower, the water creaking to life through your pipes. Typically you’d throw on some music, but for some reason it felt out of place. Like you were supposed to be in silence, in mourning. The water was the only sound in the house.

Your mind wandered back to Simon, surely you’d be seeing him today. 

You thought back to him standing on the mat in the ring, hands practically grasping the metal cage in front of him, shadowed and standing like a titan in front of you. Shorts tight on his thighs, markings decorating his skin, color blossoming on his body. Muscles taut and rippling under his skin.

His face completely darkened, shadowed and black to your vision.

Sticking a hand under the water, you let it sit there for a second, the warmth engulfing it as you yawned. The door to your bathroom opened, it tended to get overrun with steam when you showered. Looking out into your bedroom, and to the clothes laying out on your bed. 

This couldn’t be real, there was no way. It sounded like some…shitty story you’d read on tumblr or something. Your boyfriend bets money he doesn’t have on an underground fight and loses, and now you have to work for the big fighters. What a joke.

You looked to your sink, pursing your lips at the potted plant that sat in it. You reached over and turned on the faucet, letting the pot fill to the brim, then turning it off, poking some holes in the first with your finger, watching the thirsty plant drink up the water.

Taking your hair down you sighed, and started to take off your clothes.

The shower passed quickly. Washing your hair, putting products in, and blow drying it in almost a trance. Standing with your arms crossed in front of your bed, staring at those clothes, skin soft with lotion and goosebumped from standing in the non-steamy air in just underwear and a bra. Lips scrunched and pouted. 

“Just put the damn clothes on,” you muttered, shaking your hair out, “You’re being a baby about this…”

You felt cheated, almost like you’re taking on someone else's punishment. The image of your ex’s face flashing through your head made you freeze up, brows raising a bit. He would probably have a TBI from the way those men–Simon, the name rolled through your head like a tumbleweed again–had dealt with him.

You didn’t want a TBI.

Quickly getting dressed, you tucked the creamy pinstriped button up into the slacks that were a little long while barefoot, you had bought them for heels, and buttoned it to the top, not tight enough on your neck that it left you clawing at it an hour into the day. Huffing dramatically you smacked your bed, looking to the clock. 1:20. 

Feet padding against the hardwood of the hall, leaning over the back of your couch to snatch up your phone. The screen reading one notification, you flipped it open, seeing the address that was sent.

You knew what street it was, about 20 minutes from your house, not too far of a drive. The office was at least a 30 minute drive, though it usually turned into 50 due to traffic and your car needed 10 minutes to heat up or it would crap out at a stop light.

You were relieved that the address wasn’t in the middle of one of the crappier areas. Not that the street was high end, but it wasn’t known for the drug corners or stabbings.

Hurrying to the bathroom, you threw your hair up, a little nicer than earlier, pulling parts of the front out by your ears and around your face. You debated makeup for a second, then decided a little wouldn’t hurt. Rubbing the lipstick onto your lips, nothing shocking, you honestly didn’t want to stick out at all, and bright red lipstick might not have helped that goal.

You grabbed a sweater, a dark piece with a wide square neckline. Stopping just below the waistline of the slacks, Belt sleek under it, you hated when a belt was bulky and obvious under a shirt or a sweater. It made your skin crawl.

You snapped your fingers, “Fuck right, a notepad…”

Looking around your apartment, you grew frantic, not finding anything. 

“How the fuck do I not have a notepad,” messing around in your bedside drawer, you found a thin brown notepad, the kind you flipped open, it was pretty much blank, save for a grocery list on the first page, but you can rip that out later. A pen clipped to it already.

Gazing at the clock, you groaned, 1:30.

Stopping by the door, you grabbed a pair of heeled boots, only about three inches, and not big boots. In fact you weren’t sure they were boots, you’d just always called them that. They might have just been regular shoes. Grabbing a bag, your wallet and phone in your hand, you paused at the door, hand gripping the handle. The metal cool under your touch.

Debating again, if you just ignored them…

Ryans face popped into your head. Broken bones, TBI…right.

With that you jerked open the door. The old thing creaking on its hinges.

The radio played in your car. Nearly silent with how low you had it. It wasn’t very cold out, slightly on the chilly side but there were plenty of people in shorts and t-shirts. 

But you’d also seen people in shorts and t-shirts in snow, so it didn’t really mean all that much.

You’d been sitting in the parking lot for 5 minutes already. You have 5 minutes to walk to the door. You’d driven past it, it was two stores down. You felt a little silly expecting it to be some super obviously sketchy place. But it was just a gym, a boxing gym. The sign was pretty nice, reading 141 with neon lighting around it. It wasn’t crazy fancy, it looked like one of those old school places. 

Your head hit the headrest, you turned off your car, and stepped out, keys clutched in your hand, squinting into the light. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this…”

With a sigh, you rubbed your eyebrows, checking your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired, but not bad. Your lips had regained some moisture since this morning, hopefully you wouldn’t pick at them too much.

Checking the time you sighed, locking your car and quickly jogging to the street, making your way over to the building. Stopping in front of it and swallowing the spit stuck in the back of your throat. There was a big glass door on the wall, pushing it open, a bell dinged, as you tentatively walked in.

There was a front desk, and it led into a very open gym with a boxing ring in the back. Lots of punching bags littered around and some other equipment you didn’t quite understand.

There wasn’t anyone by the front desk. But there were people in the ring, and people in the gym, even though the number was low–two people in the ring and what looked to be a coach there as well. 

You took a few more steps inside, before a loud voice made you tense up.

“Aye, looky ‘ere,” a boisterous Scottish voice rang through the gym, looking to your side you spotted a tall man with a choppily cut mohawk strolling up to you, a bright pink cast on his wrist, almost to his elbow. Lots of signatures of drawings on it. Mostly dicks, the closer he got the more you could see. He was smiling wide and sweating, large basketball shorts and a tank top on. The tank top almost soaked through, sticking to his chest.

The gym reeked of sweat, and cheap cologne.

“Class, lookin’ bonnie ye are,” he stopped just about in front of you, hands on his hips and looked you up and down, “Whit are ye daein' in a place like this?”

You grinned at him nervously, almost looking like you were in pain.

“Um, Price?” you said, clearing your throat, “I have a job interview with Price–John…”

“Oh,” the man perked up, then got a little red in the face, “Sorry, lass, didnae realise ye were that bonnie thing, though it wis jist ma lucky day.”

Chuckling a bit you nodded, “Yeah, I, I think I'm actually late?”

You looked around for a clock.

“Late?”

“I was supposed to meet him at 2:00?”

He scoffed and waved you off, “Nah, he’s late, dinnae worry, come wi’ me, I’ll introduce ye tae the boys till he wraps up whit he wis daein’.”

He hooked an arm around your shoulder, stuffing you in his armpit, which reeked of sweat and strong deodorant. You nearly stumbled as he walked forward, grabbing his arm and trying to pull your head away.

“W-what–ugh, please–” you attempted to free yourself, but that man was strong, and his arms locked up, “At least away from the armpit–”

“You’ll like the boys,” he didn’t seem to have heard what you said, leading you to the back of the gym, around the corner to a more secluded looking boxing ring. Where two men were boxing, “They’re reeaall nice, especially tae the bonnie ones! Haha–real jokers those–”

The sweaty man was rambling about something, but your feet felt like lead as you spotted who was fighting.

Solid hits ringing out into the gym. Both in head padding, and gloves.

You spotted the large man in black shorts, tight on his thighs, hulking figure basking in the overhead light, beautiful ink splattered up his arm, his skin flushed as he moved, shirtless and glowy. Heavy grunts coming from the ring, solid punches landing.

Your feet felt heavy, almost stumbling a bit as the man dragged you closer.

Simon's muscles rippled under his skin as he threw punches, dodging, and light on his feet. Fully focused. Sweat dripped from him, splashing onto the mat under him. The man he was fighting in orange shorts, and a white boxing mask. It was the black man from the fight, you could see his face better through the mask. Eye still a bit bruised, but looking good, his shirt was tight on his body, like a compression shirt gym guys wear. He was much leaner than Simon, you noticed, but he still filled out the shirt.

“Boys!” the scots voice snapped you out of whatever thought process you were in, making you jolt a bit.

The two groaned and slowed down their hits, almost ignoring him.

“Look who I got!”

The pretty boy glanced over and smiled, signalling to Simon to stop, motioning to you with his head. Simon had his back turned to you, shoulders dropping in an irritated state as he turned.

His shoulders rising back up and his muscles tensing, his eyes widening, pink in his cheeks and forehead. He snapped his gaze to the man next to you, brows pinching.

“Oh hey!” voice muffled, the black man chuckled, pulling his head gear off and pulled out his mouth guard. You cringed as spit stuck to it, splattering a bit as he shook it off. He walked over to you two, past Simon–jabbing him in the gut as he passed. Simon grunted and muttered something under his breath, pulling his gloves off, “How ya’ been!”

You gulped, offering a nervous smile, “Um, pretty good…”

The man holding you chuckled, clapping you on the back, relaxing his grip so he wasn’t pulling you into his armpit as much, allowing you to stand to full height. Tucking some hair behind your ear you glanced at the man next to you then to the men in the ring. The pretty man was leaning against the ropes, removing his gloves, turning to say something to Simon. Who was still lingering back, meticulously removing his gloves.

Simon looked at him from under his eyebrows, then to you and the sweaty man.

“Ach, come on, Ghost, be a pal,” the man next to you bellowed, looking down to you, "He’s a wee bit shy, dinnae mind him."

You nodded, “O-ok.”

Your hair was a little ruffled, and your collar was popped on one side now, you didn’t notice Simon watching you.

“I’m Kyle by the way,” the black man held out his hand, as if for a hand shake, the man behind you nudged you forward, your heels clicking on the cement flooring. You smiled and reached up, shaking his hand, “Or Gaz, whichever you prefer.”

“Nice to officially meet you,” you felt incredibly out of place.

The man behind you snapped his fingers, you looked at him curiously, "Ah'm Johnny. Dinnae tell ye earlier, did ah?"

You shook his hand as well. Both men had strong grips, you’d wiped your hand on your pants after Kyle’s handshake, his hand sweaty from the glove. Made your skin crawl a bit as a matter of fact.

Simon walked up next, not leaning on the ropes like Kyle, his gloves and helmet off.

His hair was damp with sweat, cut short and even around his head, curling and waving slightly in places, stuck to his forehead and around his ears. A long scar running up his chin, and one disrupting his peachy lips, making the top lip curl slightly. Another smaller one on the side of his nose, which was strong and defined. Definitely having been broken before, a white scar splitting one of his eyebrows. His jaw was sharp and set, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. The stubble on his chin gone. You were right the night of the fight, his left eye was a bit swollen, a dark ring encompassing it, making his eyes look even more sunken.

Johnny grabbed your shoulder, snapping you out of your staring at Simon. Your face flushing as you realized you were in fact staring. Hoping it wasn’t for too long.

“Tha’s Simon, ah’m sure you knew tha’ though,” he giggled, Simon grunted.

“Yeah I introduce myself,” the words were a bit sharp, and Johnny waved him off.

“I do too!” he retaliated. Putting his hands on his hips.

Simon rolled his eyes and Kyle chuckled.

“Um,” you felt awkward interrupting them, feeling like an outsider, “Do, you know when Mr. Price is going to be back?”

You looked between them all nervously, Simon had his arms crossed in a broad stance, Kyle looked infinitely more relaxed. They both looked to each other and shrugged.

“Hell if I know, he went out to go talk ta’ someone but wouldn’t tell us who,” Kyle said, thinking for a moment, “I hope he brings back food.”

Johnny perked up, “Aye! I’m starved I tell ya’.”

Simon nodded, his gaze still locked on you. It felt more intense without the mask. Like he was sinking his brute hands into you, squeezing through you like wet clay, pushing their way to the center. Boring into you.

You straightened your sweater slightly, “He just left?”

The three nodded. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, checking the time.

2:15.

A snort of laughter rang out. You looked up, expecting something funny. Only to see the three men looking at you.

“What?”

“Wha’ is that?” Kyle pointed to your phone. With a confused look you held it up, “Yeah lass, tha’.”

“My phone?” you looked at it, sure it's a little old but what was wrong with it.

“Thangs a right relic,” Johnny cupped your hand that was holding it, pulling it closer. His hand was warm as it held yours, your brows pinching together as you looked at him.

Missing the way Simon’s lips pressed tight and his scowl grew.

“It’s not that old, come on,” you argued. Looking at the other two, pulling it back to yourself, Putting it away in your pocket.

Kyle grimaced, clicking his tongue, “I don’t know, it’s pretty old…”

You looked to Simon, seeking some sort of…anything as far as support.

He shrugged, a beat of silence, “Things're pretty old, almost as old as Price.”

A ring of laughter echoed through the part of the gym, Johnny clapping his thigh. You smiled as well, giggling to yourself. Simon’s smile was handsome, his teeth surprisingly straight (not perfect but better than you were expecting really), and his lip curled a little funny due to the scaring.

“Wot’s so funny?” a rough voice rang through the gym. You felt your heart jump and you looked back, Johnny doing the same. 

Price was walking up to everyone. Wearing jeans that were worn on his thighs and a tight button up that was rolled up to his elbows, sloppily tucked into his jeans. A tired look on his face and what looked to be an overstuffed planner in his hand. Rings decorating his meaty fingers.

His hair was tousled and shoes clicked on the cement.

“Simon here was just sayin’–”

A thick hand slapped itself onto Kyle's mouth, your eyes widening and a fought down smile making their way onto your face. Simon’s brows pinched tight as he sent a mean look to the pretty man. Whose face was smashed in Simon’s hold.

“Nothin’, sir, mindless chatter,” Johnny grinned.

Price scoffed and put his free hand into his pocket.

“I see you’ve met Johnny,” he gestured with the planner in hand. Eyes crinkling into a soft smile.

“Um, y-yes!” you grinned, holding your hands behind your back.

Price continued walking till he was close to the four of you, glancing up behind your shoulder–to Simon and Kyle presumably.

“Everyone introduce themself?” he looked at you, “Been civil wit’ ya’?”

You nodded, “Yes Mr. Price, everyone’s been kind.”

Johnny clapped you on the back, startling you and jolting your body forward a bit, “See, Cap, she's fine, nae need to worry yer little heid.”

Kyle scoffed, and you swore you heard Simon grumbling behind you. Price shook his head and he walked up, putting a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it.

“You ready for that meetin’ darling?” 

He smelled like strong cologne, ushering you with him, guiding you away from the three men by the ring.

“Yes, I believe so,” you glanced back at them as Price moved his hand to your back, pushing you forward with them. Your eyes meeting Simons, his brown eyes lighting up, his cheeks pink as he huffed. His eyes darting down to Price’s hand then back up to your face, Johnny facing him, saying something you couldn’t quite hear. Simon swung at him.

You looked back at Price who was looking ahead.

He led you both to a door, and inside was an office. Nothing fancy, carpeting, a set of four lockers in the corner, a door in the back that looked a bit more heavy duty than the one you two walked in. A metal desk against the wall with a (dying) potted plant by it, an old looking chair and a little coffee table. A coat rack with jackets and hats on it, and a water cooler in the corner.

It smelled like smoke and old air freshener. 

Price walked up his desk, leaning against it with a heavy sigh, gesturing for you to sit in the chair in front.

“Sit, please, can’t imagine those are comfortable,” he chuckled.

You looked to the chair and sat down, placing your bag at your feet. 

“Thank you–they, they aren’t that bad really, I’m used to wearing them at my job…”

Price perked up like he’d suddenly remembered something, “Yes, you’ll ‘ave to put in your two weeks.”

You blanked, puzzled, “I’m sorry?”

“You won’t 'ave the time to juggle this job an' that one, especially if it's a 9-to-5 gig. You'll be workin' a lot to pay off that debt,” Price rubbed the back of his head, and moved around his desk to sit in the groaning chair.

“I–” you looked at him, “I, can’t quit. I, I need the money sir, I don’t be able to pay rent or my-my car payment, I need to buy food and pay my insurance and–”

Price waved you off, “No worries, hun, we’ll take care of all that. Can’t 'ave our new assistant on the streets hungry, can we?”

You swallowed, “N-no I suppose not…I’ll be paying off that debt I accumulate as well I assume?”

Price laughed, crossing his arms on his desk, “Reckon Simon’d 'ave my 'ead for that!”

You tilted your head, confused, “Why?”

The man waved you off, “He’s a sweet man, wouldn’t stand for indentured servitude, I’m afraid.”

Nodding, you glanced down to your lap, where your hands were clasped tightly, licking your lips nervously.

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

“What do you think of them?”

Looking up, you met Price's gaze, his hands folded under his chin. Eyes steady on your own.

“Who?” you paused for a second before pinching your brows together, a little embarrassed, “Oh–yes, them. They are all very nice, and they’ve been very sweet to me…I…”

You rubbed the back of your head, debating if you should bring it up, “I saw what they did to Ryan…probably would’ve done it myself if they hadn’t.”

Price laughed, deep from his belly, spooking you a bit, suddenly embarrassed.

“You should be thankin' Simon for that, 'ad to drag the man off the poor sap!”

Price rubbed his beard and shook his head.

“Oh,” you don’t know why your stomach flipped the way it did, or why your cheeks heated up, “I should thank him sometime.”

“Don’t worry about it, 'e was more than 'appy to do it, darlin',” he rolled back, jerking the top desk of his drawer open. You sat in silence, unsure how to respond to that. Simon sure was weird.

He pulled out a thick manilla envelope full of papers, nearly an inch thick.

He grunted as he placed it onto the desk smiling to himself as he pushed it towards you. The drawer closing with a startling rattle of the desk.

“I’m goin' to need you to fill these papers out and read through 'em by the end of next week, but good news is that’s all the paperwork you’ll 'ave to do for the hirin', mostly just liability stuff an' certain NDA’s,” he explained, you stared at the papers and nodded along, the feeling of your guts tying up. This was a real, dangerous thing. Not just a job interview, this was you tying yourself up with dangerous people.

Blood. Hardened knuckles. Scarred faces. Strong muscles.

You grabbed the folder, holding it in your lap, “Thank you, I’ll make sure it’s done.”

Price nodded, “Just turn it in 'ere when you’re finished. Gimme a call an' I’ll make sure someone’s 'ere to unlock the room for you.”

“Yes Mr. Price,” you gripped the folder.

“So formal,” he muttered, leaning back into his chair, “I’m just goin' to chat with you for a bit, ask a few questions if you don’t mind.”

“Yes sir, that’s no problem,” you smiled sweetly at him. 

He paused for a moment, looking at you, “How long you an' your boyfriend been datin'?”

You gulped, shuffling, “Um, it was just over 2 years…”

“Was?”

“I broke up with him,” you looked to the side, then back to the smiling man, looking very pleased with himself.

“Good! He was a lowlife anyway,” he crossed his arms, “Glad 'e won’t be draggin' you down anymore, you don’t deserve that.”

You blinked, “Th-thank you…”

He spoke like you two were familiar with each other. It was strange.

“Not to sound rude, but, you kind of sound like,” you paused, “Like you know me? I think I’d remember if we’d met before.”

Price laughed again, softer this time, “No, we haven’t met before, don’t worry, but your ex-boyfriend spoke about you a lot, all good things for the most part. Even when 'e didn’t mean 'em to be, they cast you in a good light.”

You scoffed, looking away, of course he would talk shit about you. What did you really expect?

Price’s chair creaked as he leaned forward, “Don’t pay it much mind. Look at 'im now–ah! Don’t worry about fairness, we’ll be visitin' 'im every now an' then to make sure 'e’s been behavin'.”

You nodded, not exactly put off by the idea, “Sounds like something Simon would jump on.”

“See you’re learning already!” he leaned over the desk and clapped your shoulder, jostling you, “You’ll get on fine, won’t be too challengin' of a job.”

You shifted in your seat, it was stuffy in the room, and it was growing hot. Unsure if it actually was or if you were just nervous–very possibly both.

“What would the job be, exactly?”

“Mostly just runnin' errands, keepin' medical papers in check, watchin' over the boys–make sure they don’t get into too much trouble, ya know–keep fight schedules in order, make sure the boys know what that is,” he thought for a moment, muttering to himself, “Ah–you’ll be accompanyin' me to meetin's an' 'elp a little with the tension between some of the fighters… they usually take information better from a pretty thing rather than a grumpy old man.”

You nodded, it was different from your other job, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You’ll just be his personal assistant pretty much.

“As you know Soap’s injured at the moment and –”

“Soap?” you felt your skin clam up when he shot you a look, realizing you’d interrupted him.

“Did he not–” with a sigh he explained, “Johnny is Soap, the loud scott out there, handsy one.”

You nodded, “Oh, sorry Mr. Price, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

He scoffed, waving his hand, “Don’t worry, those boys interrupt more than anyone I know. Get out a paper an' I’ll tell you their 'code' names.”

You rummaged around your bag, pulling out the brown pad and pen, opening it, looking at the large man.

“Soap, is Johnny MacTavish, Ghost would be Simon Riley, Gaz would be Kyle Garrick,” he paused, “I’ll send you a list of some of the other fights from other rings, they fight 'ere occasionally an' vice versa, you’ll need to know that as well. When in the ring, you are only to use those code names, for everyone's safety.”

“Yes sir,” closing the notepad, and placing it on top of the folder, which weighed heavy on your thighs. In fact your shoulders weighted down heavily as well, and your head, pulling at your neck.

Price clapped his hands together, “I believe that covers it for now, feel free to call if you’ve got any questions or anythin'. I’ll get you the boys' numbers as well, in case you need the muscle. Oh–and the ‘gym’ is open from 10:00am–11:00pm, I expect you to be 'ere at 8:00am, but I’ll let you know if that changes on the day.”

You clenched your teeth, he didn’t really expect you to work for over 12 hours did he. Everyday?

“Of course Mr. Price,” you nodded, forcing a sugary smile onto your lips.

“I’ll be payin’ you well, let's say $30 an hour?” he nodded to himself, “Yeah, you can do the math on 'ow long that’ll take you to pay off–probably good to mention that I’ll only pay for the 8 hour day, any time I keep you past that will just be your kind donation to the gym.”

He smiled, soft and sweet like he didn’t just tell you you’d be working for a few hours each day no pay, and you're just going to do it. Not like you could argue. You were already in this mess. 

Pressing our lips together, and then prying them open to flash teeth you nodded and made a noise in the back of your throat, “Yes sir. I’d be glad to.”

“"I’m sure the boys would appreciate it as well,” his chair groaned and creaked. It sounded like your bones were doing the same as you sat there. His gaze was sharp, even with the smile, it’s like he was looking at your thoughts, your inner workings.

Like he knew everything you were going to say before you said it–and he was waiting to get his witty reply out. Ready to bite at whatever managed to slither it’s way out from between your lips.

“You’ll start today, be 'ere for a few hours, learn the ropes,” he grinned wide, “I’m sure you’ll find it very fun, girly.”

Your heart sank.

(Word count: 6098)

tag list:

@msjaeger @jamdoughnuts

[cntloup]

Fem!Reader fluff, mention of love making, allusion to sex

Part 1 | Part 2

It's a sunday morning. The sun shines through the kitchen window and reaches your profile, seeming like a halo around your head. Your eyebrows are furrowed and your eyes focused on the task at hand. You flip the pancake and feel a pair of big burly arms wrap around your torso from behind, "Good morning, lovie!" he breathes into your ear, his gruff morning voice sending shivers through your body. "Good morning, Si!" you mutter as you turn around to place a kiss on his lips. "You look beautiful today... as you do everyday... you're always beautiful, dove!" he rambles as he peppers kisses on every part of your pretty face, making you giggle. "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. I made coffee too." "Perfect! Thank you, love." he says as he takes a seat at the table. You place his plate of pancakes with chocolate syrup and a cup of coffee in front of him. He nods gratefully as you seat down. You talk about some new events happening at work and he listens, occasionally asking questions or making sarcastic comments about your annoying coworkers. He stares at you in awe, wondering how he got so lucky. You both spend the rest of the day in each other's arms. He makes love to you, softly cooing praises into your ear as he brings you to a state of pure euphoria. You lazily plump down on the couch watching trash tv and making fun of the awful people on the shows, laughing your asses off. You stare at him in awe, wondering how you got so lucky. He snaps his fingers in front of your face, shaking you out of your trance. "Hey, what is it?" he asks, "You've been acting weird lately!" "What? Nothing, just thinking about... stuff." you ramble nervously. "Is there something wrong?" he questions worriedly. "No! It's just about work. I'm sorry I've been acting weird. You don't have to worry about it." you respond. Thank god he doesn't pry any further and only adds "I'm here if you need me. With anything. And I mean anything. If someone is bothering you-" "No, Si! No one is bothering me. I don't need you to murder anyone either. Just stressing about work. Too much pressure." you lie terribly and he looks at you through narrowed eyes but lets it slide. As night falls, you're curled up in bed together as you both have your books in hands and read peacefully in a comfortable silence. But your focus is on something else. Should you pop the question right now? Do it casually and get it over with. No, he deserves a proper proposal. You finally decide on the latter. "Hey!" his voice rattles you out of your thoughts. "What?" you ask, looking up at him. He's starting to get suspicious. You have to do it sooner than planned. You can’t take it any longer. "I asked if you wanted to sleep." he replies, "I'm starting to get worried, love. Just tell me that you're ok." You cup his cheeks in your hands and whisper "I'm ok, Si. No need to worry." and kiss him as you straddle his lap. You both end up panting heavily and giggling, bodies tangled together by midnight.

It's a saturday night. The moonlight shines through the branches of cherry blossoms and reaches you, standing amidst the trees in the garden, making a dreamy scene. You fidget with the zipper of your jacket and fumble with your fingers nervously as you wait for him. He finally arrives, in a suit, looking handsome as ever. "Hi, lovie." he greets you, kissing your lips lovingly. "Hey, Si." you respond, taking in his beautiful features alight by the moon. You take his hand in yours and guide him to the table. You both take your seats beside each other and start chatting about everything and nothing, unable to take your eyes and hands off each other, as the waiter places your orders in front of you. After dinner, you go silent, grab your purse in your shaky hands and pull out the small black box. His eyes widen and his mouth hangs open as you lock eyes with him. "Simon Riley,... you met me at my worst" you chuckle nervously, "and pulled me out of the dark abyss I was in. You brighten my skies every day and make me laugh with your awful dad jokes" you remark, making him laugh as tears start to well up in both your and his eyes, "Do you want to be a dad? You've already got the jokes down... ok, that's a discussion for another time." You both chuckle again, "Fuck! I'm really terrible at this. I didn't prepare a speech and decided to wing it. I'm so sorry." he nuzzles your cheek, wiping away your tears as he pulls you in for a kiss, reassuring you that it's ok. "I'm forever grateful for everything you've done for me. I love you. Everything about you. Everything that you are. Your light and your darkness. You're the love of my life and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." you continue, "Simon Riley, will you marry me?" you finally ask as you open the box and hold it in front of him. You're both sobbing at this point. "Yes!" he gets the word out and pushes his lips onto yours, kissing you passionately, both your feelings for each other poured into the kiss. You take his hand in yours and put the ring on his finger. "I'm all yours, love." he murmurs against your lips, "And I'm all yours, Si."

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥

[manias-wordcount]

View of Paradise (Satoru Gojo x Reader) PART FOUR

[𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐]

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗼𝗺𝗴 𝘄𝗲'𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 || 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲 || 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲…

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The walk back home is uneventful as always. But the way you get to step through the door with your little brother and be treated like heroes is completely worth the silent trek from the diner in the dark.

You’re barely able to shrug off your cardigan and step through the door before Yuuta is shouting “Look what we got!” at your family. He’s more than excited as he takes the boxes of food off of you. And you can’t help but wonder if that excitement is more because cabbage won’t be for dinner tonight or if it’s because of that chocolate bar sitting in his pocket right now. Either way, his smile is wide and childlike and carefree as he hands over the to-go containers to your Mom and the pot of cabbage she’s standing over and tells her exactly which container belongs to whom. It’s as it should be. It’s as you want it to be.

At least for the night.

The floor creaks under your footsteps as you step further into your house. Though house isn’t always an appropriate word for you to use, in your opinion. It’s an old thing. With old, rotting wood that is slowly being replaced and a broken roof that just barely leaks on a good day. Some of the walls weren’t sealed perfectly, so it’s always a surprise when you find a new hole that you swear was sealed up two years ago. And overall, there’s a tilt to the walls too. Your house lives on a slant. Holds itself up at an aggressive angle. A visible lean that always used to make you worried that one day, the house will collapse on your poor dear family. But you’ve survived your coldest winters and your windiest storms in this shack. You have faith in it. Even if it does look like it’s falling apart and slowly coming down with each passing day. But it’s home.

Your home.

And everybody is here right now. Existing happily on the bottom floor of the shack and interacting with each other. There are only three rooms on the bottom floor of your house. Your parent's room, the bathroom, and everything else. The kitchen, the dining room, and the spot in front of the old fatback TV (that only plays the 24/7 news cycle) where your bed-ridden grandparents stay in all day and all night are all together. The upstairs (if you could even call it that), is just a simple loft that you and Yuuta sleep in. It’s cramped, with your modest bed and his nearly squished together. Barely any room for personal items. He’s outgrowing the bed up there too- your old one when you were his age- but he doesn’t say anything about how he’s too tall to lie there without his legs starting to hang off the bottom of the bed. You know deep down inside he probably wishes for more. Wishes for better. But selfishly, you’re happy he doesn’t ask for it. Your family just can’t afford it. They just can’t.

You shake your head suddenly, trying to push the somber thoughts about living this life away in favor of putting a smile on your face and joining your parents and your little brother in the kitchen. Your mother looks at you warmly when she tells you to go wash up. The container with the meatloaf for her and your father is still in her hands, and tears are pricking at her eyes despite her own smile spreading across her lips. Your father sends you a look beneath the permanently tired expression on his face. One that you know all too well, even though they tried to hide it from you your entire life.

It’s relief.

Relief because without this food, they would have gone hungry tonight.

And maybe you would have too. There have been some days you take a hit alongside them as the oldest and one of the family breadwinners. But you try to push that thought in the corner of your mind as you stand over the sink and wash your hands with your little brother. You use the soap and water sparingly. Enough to wash the dirt off your hands and not a second longer before cleaning it on an old towel with fraying edges. Your dad had already cut the hoagies for your grandparents, and your Mom went to fetch some clean plates for them to sit on. Yuuta tries to ask if you need help carrying over your grandparent’s food to their table, but your Grandpa Aibara is quick to cheer you on- asking if you break out some of your waitressing skills and serve them like they’re at your diner right now.

In truth, you’re tired. Your feet ache, and you’re more than ready to strip off this uniform and go to sleep without talking to anyone again until morning. But your Grandpa Aibara looks so cheery and hopeful, despite his graying hair and his unfortunate situation. The rest of your grandparents do too- even the usually grumpy Grandpa Kusakabe seems to be mildly interested in what you do. 

So, for one more time tonight, you put on your most dazzling smile and you up your customer service voice. You take all four plates in your hand- balancing them between fingers and palms and using your wrists and upper arms to keep them stabilized. The faces of your grandparents light up as you bring them food as if they were finally able to rise to their feet after all these years and visit you at your diner. But they can’t. And you don’t know if they ever will. So at the very least, you can be a good granddaughter. You can give them a show.

The TV is on and running a story about the economy as you approach. But the volume is low, and the screen isn’t very bright, so you don’t have to compete much for anyone’s attention. The first person you start off with is Grandma Utahime. She’s the closest to where you were originally standing, and she’s the one who needs the most assistance in the end. You’re very, very slow and very, very careful as you place the plate in her hands. Her tremors have gotten worse, you noticed, now that you’re up close. The scar across the majority of her face that was once healing very nicely has slowed down all its progress. But you still call her ma’am and look at her like she’s still the prettiest woman you’ve ever met as you ensure her fingers are closed firmly around the plate.

Yuuta followed behind you as you brought the food over. And he’s quick to swoop in to help Grandma Utahime hold her plate while she brings the sandwich up to her lips once you step away to serve your next customer. You can see out of the corner of your eyes when the frustration growing on her face takes over completely, and she struggles to feed herself. But when she glances at you and your younger brother, the anger disappears into something a little more exhausted, but grateful.

The next person you serve is Grandpa Aibara. And despite sickness attacking his body non-stop and keeping him in his seat, he’s bouncing and wiggling around in his bed with a bright, bright smile. One that has you widening your smile impossibly wider too. His cheer is infectious, and only ends up growing as you place his half of the meager-looking hoagie into his awaiting arms with a simple “Here you are, sir.” You can tell his mouth is watering as he looks down at the sandwich. It’s nothing special, but it’s not often you’re able to bring this much food back for your family. A lifetime of cabbage will do that to someone. So you’re not even surprised when he leans over on the edge of the bed and delivers a kind kiss to your cheek before he turns his attention back to his food. Not without reaching out and ruffling Yuuta’s hair a little, of course.

As you round the other side of the bed, you’re standing closer to the TV. It draws your eyes for a second as you adjust the food in your hands and approach the next person. But the story on the TV is just as boring as ever. Even so, Grandpa Kusakabe tries to look neutral and distracted by what’s on the screen as you stop in front of him. But you’re able to see past his uninterested look all too well. The twitching of his eager fingers that are trying their hardest not to reach out for the food in your hands gives it all away. So you don’t waste a single second of time before putting the plate of food on his lap

“Thank you, sweetheart,” He mumbles to you, eyes only meeting yours for a second. You smile again. A genuine one, before hitting him with a ‘You’re very welcome, grandpa’ and moving over to the next person. You pretend not to notice his excitement struggling to be contained as he takes a bite out of something that isn’t cabbage for the first time in a long, long time.

You head over to your last grandparent- Grandma Shoko. Around you, your house has erupted in a pleasant bout of noise. Grandpa Aibara is already halfway through his sandwich, even though he just told everyone he intends to savor it. Grandpa Kusakabe is quick to tell him to stop his yammering, which your mother giggles at (beneath a hand that does a very, very, very poor job at hiding it. Yuuta is still with Grandma Utahima, helping her take small bites of her food and keeping her from spilling bits of lettuce and tomatoes onto herself. However, every now and then, she stops eating in favor of shouting at your dad to keep eating his meatloaf and to keep his hands off of yours and Yuta’s fries before she “comes over there.” And your poor little brother can’t help but have his expression teeter between embarrassment, surprise, and laughter at your family’s antics.

Still, you don’t want to leave your last grandparent out of the fun. So you hand over the last plate to a quiet Grandma Shoko who gives you a sweet, motherly look and tells you just how proud she is of you for growing up to be who you are now. The compliment warms your cheeks and causes you to stammer over your words a little bit. But you thank her anyway.

But just as you straighten up from your last food delivery, a sudden noise catches your attention. Out of instinct, you shush everyone loudly. You almost forget for a moment you’re at home and not the diner where you can shush all the other waitresses to hear something and not have it be seen as a sign of disrespect. But you’re not at the diner. You’re at home. And from across the room, you hear your mother scold you lightly. You also hear Grandpa Kusakabe grumbling again. Mentioning something about “kids these days” under his breath. But you don’t really hear him or your mom. You don’t really hear anything. 

Except for the news anchor on the TV’s fuzzy screen running a story with the BREAKING NEWS symbol underneath him. And as your family quiets down with you, they start to hear what you’re hearing. They start to see what you’re seeing. And even though the picture quality is terrible, you’ve spent enough time in front of this TV to read the message that’s being displayed to you right now.

And you’ve spent your entire life wishing for a miracle like this to happen to you too.

~~~ DEAR PEOPLE OF THE WORLD,

I, GOJO SATORU HAVE DECIDED TO ALLOW FIVE CHILDREN TO VISIT MY FACTORY THIS YEAR. THESE LUCKY FIVE WILL BE SHOWN AROUND PERSONALLY BY ME, AND WILL LEARN ALL THE SECRETS AND THE MAGIC OF MY FACTORY

FIVE GOLDEN TICKETS HAVE BEEN HIDDEN UNDERNEATH THE ORDINARY WRAPPING PAPER OF FIVE ORDINARY WONKA BARS. THESE FIVE CANDY BARS MAY BE ANYWHERE - IN ANY SHOP IN ANY STREET IN ANY TOWN IN ANY COUNTRY IN THE WORLD

IN ADDITION, ONE OF THESE CHILDREN SHALL RECEIVE A SPECIAL PRIZE BEYOND ANYTHING YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE. GOOD LUCK TO ALL, AND HAPPY HUNTING!

GOJO SATORU

~~

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞

87 for 🪞:

---

Not long after that, she starts puking. 

“She must have caught Carla’s stomach bug,” he tells Eddie over the phone. “I’m really sorry to have exposed you to it.” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eddie says. “I have years of built up parent immunity from Chris. You, on the other hand? Are fucked.” 

“Parent immunity? Is that a thing?” Buck challenges. 

“When I came back from Afghanistan I got sick all the time. Every little bug going around Christopher’s school, I got it. Last few years? Nothing.” 

“Maybe Chris was washing his hands more, man,” Buck reasons. 

Eddie chuckles. “Either way, I’d put money on me being fine and you getting sick.”

Buck sighs. “Any advice?”

“Buckets everywhere,” Eddie counsels. “Do not trust a six year-old to make it to the toilet.” 

It’s going to be a long fucking night. 

v.

The next morning, it takes Buck longer than it should to realize he is also sick. Which is comical, because he was fully expecting it. It’s just that, after a night of not sleeping for more than forty minutes at a time, cleaning vomit off the bathroom floor, and soothing Dove as she went through what seemed particularly hellish, he just thought he was tired. 

Usually, though, exhaustion doesn’t lead to puking. Usually. 

He’d had enough foresight to keep the contents of his stomach relatively mild. So it’s not as painful as it might have been. But it’s still a stomach flu. The kind that leaves your throat burning and your bache aching and your stomach and ribs sore from wretching. The kind that leaves you feverish and delirious. 

He’s been through it all before, of course. Hell, he’s had comparable hangovers, in the worst of his party days. Point is, Buck knows how to be sick. He can handle it. Except, usually, he’s on his own. He’s never been this sick while someone was depending on him. And that’s sort of scary. 

Dove sleeps most of the morning, to make up for what she missed overnight. During which time, Buck is progressively getting worse. He texts Eddie to say he was right, Buck is fucked, and then hopes that Dove stays asleep until he’s over the hill of this, so to speak. 

She does not. 

Dove wakes up with a new life breathed into her. She’s not better. She stills ‘feels icky’ and doesn’t want to eat anything other than dry Cheerios. But she’s got some of her energy back, and she’s functional. But Buck is not. He’s struggling and getting worse. He keeps retching straight bile and he can hardly stay focused to save his life. Everything that touches his skin hurts. He’s sweating and freezing. He wants to lay on the bathroom tiles and moan. 

He cannot. He needs to take care of Dove. 

Dragging a long empty paint bucket around the house with him so he can hurl at a moment’s notice, Buck does his best. He sets her up on on the end of the couch with a box of Cheerios and a water bottle and a bucket of her own in case she needs to puke again. He puts Phineas and Ferb on the TV from the very beginning. The length of a single movie might not be enough and she hasn’t seen this show before. It’ll keep her attention. He makes sure she knows how to use the remote. 

“I’ll be right here with you, okay?” He says. “But if I get sick or fall asleep, and you need to pause, you can. If you need anything you need to tell me, because my head is super fuzzy.”

“Okay, Buck,” she says. “Sorry I made you sick.”

“No, sweetie,” he says. “You didn’t. That’s just how germs work.”

“Germs?” Dove asks.

“That’s what makes people sick,” he explains. “But don’t worry, we’ll both be okay.”

Then, he lays curled on the other end of the couch, bucket in front of him, in the best position he can manage to not feel like he’s on the edge of death. And though he doesn’t mean to, it’s not even two episodes in before Buck falls asleep. 

▪️▪️▪️

He opens his eyes to the sound of a voice that isn’t silly or cartoonish or Dove’s. Deep. Male. Familiar, but out of place. 

“-crackers,’ it’s saying. “And ginger ale. But you’re going to want to let it go flat.”

“Soda isn’t flat, Eddie.”

Eddie.

A warm chuckle. “No, no. That just means, the bubbles go away.”

[marshmellowfluff221]

Playing Games/Card Games w/ Gojo & Nanami

Situation Prompt List

A/N Thank you for your request! I had a lot of fun writing this one hueh

-

It started as your day off. Sleeping in, ordering breakfast to be delivered to your door, and queuing up your favorite TV show, ready to catch up on the latest episode. As you were munching down on your breakfast sandwich, a knock came at the door. Furrowing your brows you stood and wiped your mouth as you opened the door without hesitation. You should have hesitated.

In front of you stood Gojo, with a wide smile, holding up various boxes of board games. Behind Gojo stood Nanami, the same annoyed expression he always had around Gojo. You blinked, once, then twice, then slammed the door.

"Hey!" Gojo yelled as if it was him you had hit, which would've been impossible. You failed at being fast enough to lock the door and Gojo opened it himself. "Y/n why are you so grumpy today?"

"Me?" You raised your eyebrows as dramatically as you could. "Oh I don't know, maybe because its my day off? Maybe because I wanted to be alone on my day off? Sorry, did I mention its my day off?"

Gojo definitely didn't have the day off. Ever since he had those 3 kids under his supervision he hasn't had a day off. Nanami, on the other hand, probably did actually have a day off. You didn't mind either of their company, but having to work with them all week and then see them now did bother you just slightly.

"Good morning Y/n." Nanami greeted, stepping through the door. "This was my idea..."

"Can you believe it? He actually had a good idea for once!" Gojo pointed at Nanami as if presenting him for you. You furrowed your brow.

"What idea?" You asked, walking over to your breakfast sandwich and taking another bite.

"You were talking all week saying you missed the games you used to play as a kid." Nanami explained in his monotone voice. "So we found them, as a thank you."

"Thank you?" You questioned.

"You're welcome." Gojo winked and you gave him a face of dissapointment. He placed the board games on your dining table and slung an arm around your shoulders. "Come on Y/n you talked about this all week, just one game."

You looked at Gojo who wore his goofy smile and then at Nanami who gestured towards the table. You scanned over the boxes, recognizing almost all of them. Mousetrap, Monopoly, UNO, and Scrabble. You always had a soft spot for these two men in your living room. You let out a long sigh, throwing your hands up in defeat.

"Fine."

"Yes! Let's start with strip Scrabble." Gojo spoke as he grabbed the Scrabble box and shook it.

"No." Nanami and you spoke at the same time.

"You're right, we'll play it last. Ok then Mousetrap." Gojo began opening the box, probably more excited to play than you or Nanami. While Gojo set up the game Nanami turned to you.

"This is a thank you for always being there for us. I know I complain about wanting a vacation but you really pulled through this week." Nanami placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You didn't look up at him, just at Gojo as he fumbled with the pieces. If you looked at him you might have melted into butter right there and then. He knew this and didn't question your lack of response.

"Let me do it granny." You sighed walking over to Gojo and grabbing the various pieces from his hands. "Come on Nanami let's be on a team."

"Hey, there are no teams in this game." Gojo complained, grabbing the instructions to cite his sources.

The three of you began to play the game, slowly building up the elaborate mousetrap. Eventually it was built and Gojo was the first to be trapped who then began complaining about teaming. He fake cried into your shoulder for the rest of the game.

Next was UNO. A few rounds and Nanami had raged saying there were other games to play. He was only upset that you and Gojo continuously stacked plus two's onto him.

Around this time you decided to order dinner. It was late so the three of you started Monopoly. You had explained how to play the quick version of Monopoly but somehow you endedup playing until 3AM. Somehow money and properties had gotten mixed up and there was no clear winner.

Gojo and Nanami packed up. Gojo was reluctant because according to him you had stalled with Monopoly long enough to not play Strip Scrabble. You offered them to stay the night but they had work in the morning and left around 4AM. You had finally plopped down onto your couch, your show still waiting to be played. One episode, you had decided.

You fell asleep one minute in.

[whisperingthorns]

(Yandere Ticci Toby x Reader)

Charmed by Shadows

Chapter 3: Closer Than You Think

Tags: NSFW (I did mark it so you can skip it)

Find chapter two here:

Toby believed it was punishment. The vision of his love, rotting in his arms. A punishment from you that was letting him know, subconsciously, that he wasn’t doing a good enough job.

‘Oh Angel, I’m so sorry. I’ll be better from now on, promise’

These were his thoughts as he stood just outside her house, cloaked in the shadows of the trees, watching the warm light from her window flicker as she moved about inside. His breath was shallow, his heartbeat erratic, but not from fear—no, it was excitement. The thrill of getting closer to her, to something more personal.

She was so close, yet so far.

Waiting for the perfect moment, he stayed still as the minutes dragged on, hidden in the quiet night. Eventually, the light in her window clicked off, and he heard the unmistakable sound of her balcony door that led to her room closing softly. His pulse quickened. She was asleep. Toby stayed around for another hour.

Quietly, Toby crept towards the house, eyes scanning for any signs of movement. He knew her routine well by now—how long it took for her to fall into that deep sleep, the exact hours when the house was most vulnerable.

He had studied everything.

He carefully went to her front door. He examined the space for a minute, lifting the mat and looking for a key. No dice. At least his darling was a bit smarter than most people he knew. He was picking up rocks and looking in plant pots but no key…that was when he noticed a box attached to the wall by the door. He narrowed his eyes and switched over tiny level. There was a click and the box opened to a safe code. Oh. This must be where her extra key is.

Toby clicked his tongue. What could the code be though? Thankfully it wasn’t electric. Toby hated stuff like that, most of the time he only had so many guesses before it alerted someone. Either sending a message to their phone, an alarm sounding, or something Toby just didn’t wanna deal with. Hmm…

Oh gosh. Toby just couldn’t think of what it could be. He’s already tried her birthday, the year she was born, and anything else he could think of. Alright. Time to do this the old-fashioned way.

Click.  Click. Click. Click.

1111…1112…1113…1114…

⦻

‘You’ve got to be shitting me’ Toby didn’t know whether to be pissed at you, or himself. Pissed because one, the code was too easy to guess and that was dangerous. Two, he’s mad he didn’t think to guess it in the first place. Three he’s wasted all this time on this stupid lock box! The box unlocked and clicked open when he tried the code ‘4444’ Really?! Angel numbers…hm. Either way, the key was his! Yay! He could’ve just picked the lock but his angel would grow scared, and probably be able to tell it was messed with. Plus he wanted the key so he could check on her whenever he felt like it. He’ll make a copy tomorrow and return when she goes to work! Much easier than picking the lock…

Once inside, the faint scent of her perfume filled the air, and it was almost enough to make him stop in his tracks. But not yet. Not until he had a piece of her for himself.

Toby started to take a little look around, going from her entrance and into the living room. It was very sweet and cozy with plush furniture and a big TV. He noticed a game station near the bottom. She did seem to have a love for three things: Video games, Cooking, and music. All of which were Toby’s favorite things too! Ever since he met you it was anyway.

He passed the living room and entered a very large kitchen. It was beautiful and updated lots of times it seems. He opened the fridge and his face lit up at the plate of brownies sitting in the fridge. He took one, stuffing it in his mouth greedily. Almost melting. He’d been watching over her, sure. He knew she loved to cook but god why didn’t anyone tell him it was so damn good! This was the best brownie he’s ever had! He quickly started to look for other dishes in the fridge. He found a leftover container and grabbed it, popping it open to see another homemade dish and a slice of pie. “Shiiit. That’s mine now.” He said grinning. He can’t take the brownies. It looked fresh and she was gonna notice a whole plate of brownies missing. That she just baked. But Toby had watched her make this dish and pie 3 days ago. She won’t notice. Surely. She’ll just gaslight herself into thinking she ate it.

On down the hall, he found a boring guest room and a very clean bathroom. She didn’t use this one. He turned around and went up the stairs, freezing when he heard one creak loudly.

‘Stupid old house’

He continued forward. Finding another hallway, he tried the door closest to the stairs first. He raised his brow when he found what seemed to be her hobby room. A piano and other various things sat in this room, he stepped inside, noting the various sheets of music and artwork on the walls and scattered across things. Her creative space. Toby picked a page off the floor, smiling at the notes written down. Something about the stars and such. He noticed a map of the planets and stars across various papers. He appreciated the peek into her head…

He left that room, closing the door and creeping down the hall. Finally. The door was barely open and soft music was playing from her tablet. He knew she had issues sleeping without music. Though he knew she didn’t like white noise. Only music…and occasionally…theta…is that how you say it? Theta waves? Focus!

He entered the room silently, barely brushing by the door, but his foot tapped it slightly and it creaked. You groaned and rolled over.

Toby’s heart stopped beating.

He let out a small breath when he saw you remain asleep though. He went to your bed and stood over you for a moment, the moonlight from your double doors that led to the balcony shone on your sleeping form. Toby’s breath caught in his throat. You were just so beautiful. He noticed you were half out of the blanket, his gaze shifted to a folded one near the foot of your bed. He unwrapped it and shook it out, draping it over you, he stepped over to a fan you had blowing and turned it up a bit. There we go. Can’t have sweet Angel losing sleep.

He started to take a look around, not too sure what he came for, but when his eyes landed on your vanity next to your dresser, he knew exactly what he wanted. The bottle of perfume sitting there in plain sight. That was it. That’s what he came for. He needed her scent—something he could take with him, something that would keep him close to her even when he wasn’t watching.

Slowly, he picked up the bottle, inhaling deeply as the scent of vanilla and strawberries washed over him. It was intoxicating. She was intoxicating.

He pocketed the perfume, a twisted sense of satisfaction filling him. This was just the beginning. He was no longer content with watching her from afar. Now, he was inside her world. Closer than anyone else. Closer than Kai.

Maybe she would notice, but Toby didn’t care. You were his so he had a sort of…right by extension to your things.

…

Speaking of things. His gaze shifted to her dresser. He carefully opened the top drawer and was delighted to see it as your panty drawer. His face went a bit pink, his eyes widening. He took his time shifting through it when suddenly he noticed his hand was red. What? He lifted it out to see he had somehow sliced it open. Fuck. He covered it with his sleep trying to get it to stop bleeding….it looked kinda bad. He would deal with it when he got home but how did this happen? He looked in the drawer and saw something shiny reflecting in the moonlight.

He reached in and carefully picked it up. A knife with a pretty handle. Awe. How cute! Knife in the pantie drawer. He loves learning new things about his angel. He supposed she kept this for self-defense, but Toby knew from experience that if he wanted to kill her, he could get to her before she got to the knife. I mean, just look at his poor Angel. He was in the room going through her things while she slept on, oblivious. Poor baby. Toby finished his little look but didn’t close the drawer without claiming a second prize. He shoved the white laced panties in his pocket along with the perfume.

He was about to leave, when he spotted her trashcan by the door, taking a glance at her he grabbed it and took it to the hallway where it would be safer to rummage through. He looked through the discarded body sprays, cosmetics, tissue wrappers, and- hey.

A scarf. Torn at the edges, frayed like it had been well-loved, then tossed aside. Toby narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly.

As a proxy, you get what you can get. You didn’t get new clothes or new things. They were allowed to steal from victims' wallets though. They mostly used it for food and necessities. If there was an ATM nearby and you could figure out the pin, you can take what’s in their account too. That was rare. The proxies called those kills ‘Paydays’. Nobody used cash anymore. Masky always seemed to have stacks of it, but Toby didn’t. Which is why he’s still wearing the same gear he wore when he was seventeen. He was done growing then anyway. He learned how to sew just so he could keep patching it up. Held up well. Of course, he had other clothes but he rather not risk the newer stuff.

So running across a perfectly good scarf? What a privilege. That’s when he remembered: This was (Y/n)s scarf. Not just any scarf. Slowly, he knelt, fingers trembling with excitement as they curled around the fabric. The texture was soft under his touch, and he lifted it to his face, inhaling deeply. Faint traces of her scent still clung to it. A smile spread across his lips as he pressed the scarf against his cheek. This was hers. It didn’t matter that she thought it was worthless now—he could still feel her in it.

He dug deeper into the bin, his heart racing with every crumpled receipt and broken hair tie he found. All of it mattered. Even the smallest, most insignificant item held a piece of her.

His fingers brushed against something hard at the bottom—a small, broken bracelet. A delicate charm hung from it, shaped like a star. He picked it up, examining the crack in the chain. She must have worn it often, and when it finally snapped, she tossed it without a second thought. Toby, however, saw this as fate—a sign that he was meant to have it now, to cherish it like she never could.

‘You don’t throw away something like this, Angel…’ he thought, turning the bracelet over in his hands, his mind spinning with the twisted logic that somehow, in collecting her trash, he was becoming closer to her. More intimate.

"S-she doesn't re-realize the value these things still- still have… maybe she nev-never will. But that's oh-okay—I'll take care of them for h-her.” He mumbled to himself.

Looking down at the items he realized he couldn’t take them all, so he opted for the scarf and bracelet, hoping that would be less noticeable. He thought about how sad the objects must feel. They might wanna stay with her a little longer. But it’s okay. He’s just gonna rescue them for a while. After all, he’ll love them dearly knowing who they belong to.

With that he took a last look at her, returned her can, and kissed her forehead, turning up the music on her tablet and heading out, taking care to skip the step that creaked and grabbing the leftovers off the counter before heading out the door, making sure it was locked up tight.

⦻

TW:NSFW (continue after second line)

___________________________________________

Morning light shone through Toby’s boarded window. The old shack, one of the proxy's outposts was pretty worn down. It was a rickety old place, that was pretty much rotting, but it was a place to sleep, the doors locked and there was power, shown from the single hanging light bulb in the tiny kitchen. Toby’s ‘room’ door was off its hinges, but it still closed and he didn’t live with anyone so who cares?

As light flooded onto the bare mattress, a thin blanket was thrown to the side as he arched slightly. The room was filled with your perfume. Toby’s cock was wrapped in your panties, him jacking off furiously…already had come twice he was going again. “Hah! Haaah- (Y/n)!”

He could practically imagine you riding him, fully undressed, tits bouncing, as you took all his cock like a good girl. Having it be such a perfect fit. “T-Toby!” You were so innocent, cheeks dark and flushed, big (e/c) eyes watering as you look at him, before rolling up. “Haaah!”

“Feel good princess?”

“Mhm!” He watched as you lost momentum, trying hard to keep going but no longer having the strength. Whispering to him. Hoping your knight could fix it for you. Which he would. Gripping your hips and helping you ride him with ease. Moaning and gasping his name all the way. “T-TOBY!” You gasp almost ready to finish. “Harder…” Toby was almost there, he heard his phone go off but he ignored it, focusing on his daydream. “AH~” You shuddered against him, releasing juices down his cock. Toby buried his nose in your scarf as he came, imagining it was your neck, inhaling the sweet perfume.

_________________________________________

Gradually post nut clarity came, and he rolled over to answer the phone expecting to see his job for the day, instead received a pleasant surprise. Last night he had finally worked up the courage to text you. Claiming he had been busy and asking what you were up to. You have finally replied.

Nothing much. Making my friends go to a shitty horror movie lol. I am actually around that place we met. I’m going there to read but I wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out for a bit. It’s okay if you’re busy tho, no pressure! :)

I’m not busy. I’ll be right over hold on give me a minute to get there. It’s a bit of a walk.

Yay! 😁 see you there.

Without hesitation Toby was cleaning himself up, discarding your now sticky panties onto the bed, and stumbling to the bathroom to clean himself up.

⦻

You nervously check your phone for any updates. You knew it was a walk but he was taking a bit of time. She finally heard footsteps and she perked up. “Hey! Glad you could make it!”

"Y-yeah, n-no problem," Toby replied, his voice slightly uneven, though he forced a smile. Being this close to her always made him jittery, like he was a bundle of exposed nerves. But in a way, that thrill was what kept him going.

“So what have you been up to lately, neighbor? You haven’t been rescuing other girls from falling trees have you?” She joked.

"Uh... no. Just- just some st-stuff to ta-take care of," Toby mumbled, glancing at her hands, watching how she absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to show her that he was there, but he stopped himself. Instead, he fidgeted with the zipper on his hoodie.

“Ooo Mr. Mysterious. Okay. I see how it is. One day I’ll get it out of you. It’s good you’re not rescuing other girls. That’s our thing, yes?”

Toby smiled sheepishly. When did he get so nervous? For god's sake, he chopped people up for a living! Toby’s heart skipped a beat. He wished he could tell her everything—the watching, the protecting, how he’d gone through her trash last night just to feel closer to her. But she wasn’t ready for that yet. He had to be patient.

"M-maybe," he said with a crooked grin, trying to play it cool. "I guess I'm just... not great at sh-sharing.”

(Y/n) smirked, leaning back against the bench. "I’ll get it out of you.” It seemed more like a statement than a suggestion. Toby liked that.

Toby couldn’t help but stare at her—she was so close, so comfortable around him. It was like she didn’t realize the effect she had on him. Or maybe she didn’t care. The way she laughed, how the wind tousled her hair, how she didn’t shy away from him. She was perfect, and she didn’t even know it.

It was quiet for a minute, (Y/n) seemed content with it though, unlike Toby where every passing second felt like an eternity. Especially with him trying not to think of the way he pictures her this morning. His eyes shifted to her body. Her curves. Her lips. Thankfully her eyes were closed and she was relaxing so she couldn’t tell he was bluntly eye fucking her.

“Hey.” She said suddenly opening an eye. Toby’s eyes looked at a random tree, pretending he hadn’t been staring at her…personality. Yeah.

“Do you ever just sit here and listen? Like…for the life? The wind in the trees and such. I don’t know, I feel like as humans we are always so busy. Nobody wants to stop and smell the roses anymore. I’m sorry I’m being like- so cringe right now I know-“

“No!” Toby said suddenly cutting her off. She blinked in surprise. “S-sorry I meant…no…I do sit and listen sometimes. I agree.”

He was lying. Toby’s head was never quiet, sometimes he hated noise but even when he was alone his mind was too preoccupied to be listening to the forest speak. He didn’t care what it had to say. It had ruined everything for him when he turned 17.

The only thing he wanted to listen to was her—her voice, her breathing, every little sound she made. The woods didn’t matter to him, but if it mattered to her, then he’d pretend it did.

“It’s nice out here. Safe. The joggers stay on the path so nobody comes to sit by the bench. None of my friends know too much about it either. It’s my safe space you know? It’s peaceful. Nobody demands anything from you…I could sit and do nothing, and the trees wouldn’t even mind. They don’t care who I am, what I’ve done, what I’ve accomplished, and what I’ve failed.”

Toby nodded, his eyes glued to her face, the way her eyes shifted, the way her lips pronounced the words. “Y-yeah…it’s quiet. S-safe.”

(Y/n) smiled at that. “Exactly. Safe.”

For a second, Toby’s throat tightened. If only she knew. She was safe because he was always watching, always making sure nothing happened to her. But she didn’t need to know that—yet.

“You seem much more calm than the last time I saw you. I guess since there are no falling trees to save me from huh?”

Toby shifted in his seat, clasping his hands together and squishing them between his knees in hopes of calming his nerves. His leg bounced nervously. "Y-yeah, I guess... it's 'cause you're here. You... make things easier.”

(Y/n)’s eyes softened. “That’s sweet, Toby. I’m glad we can hang out like this.”

His heart raced. Sweet? She thought he was sweet? He wanted to tell her that she was the reason for everything. That she made his world spin. But instead, he just swallowed it all down and smiled, nodding like it was no big deal.

Why? Why did you have to flash those pretty eyes at him? Why now of all times? After he’s killed and given himself to the slender? Now you show up? He watched you ramble on about whatever you wanted. Where were you his whole life? When his father was beating him and his sister was dying. While he was setting fires and carving into the skin with Masky and Hoodie where were you? Were you having trouble too? Were you struggling? He honestly never thought about your past, or how you came to be the person you are today. What did you do? What did you have to do to become so wonderful that even the gates of heaven were probably put to shame? Maybe she was in heaven. Maybe his angel was just a slice of the pie he would never get.

(Y/n) stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "Well, I should get going. Thanks for meeting up with me."

Toby’s pulse quickened. She was leaving already? But it was okay. They had this moment, and she had chosen him. He stood up too, not wanting the moment to end.

"S-sure. Anytime. Seriously. Just... text me." He hoped he didn’t sound too eager.

She gave him a soft smile, reaching out to lightly pat his arm. "I will, don’t worry. Take care, Toby."

The brief contact sent a jolt through him, and before he could say anything more, she turned and began walking down the trail.

He stood there for a long moment, watching her disappear into the trees. His hands were clenched into fists, trying to hold onto the feeling of her touch, the sound of her voice echoing in his mind.

Just as he was about to leave he noticed something flutter from her bag. A small piece of paper, partially hidden in the grass. Toby went over to grab it.

It was crumpled and worn as if it had been folded and unfolded many times. His pulse quickened when he recognized her handwriting. A list. A simple, mundane list—grocery items, a few reminders, and a note at the bottom that read, *"Don't forget to pick up extra flour for the cookies."*

It was a small piece of her head. Just like those star maps she liked to draw. He pressed the paper to his chest, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. He smiled. She didn’t even realize how close they were together. To her, he was a stranger.

To him, she was everything.

"Th-thank you, Angel," he whispered to the space around him. "F-for trusting me with this. I'll take care of it... just like I take care of you."

He pocketed the paper, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. This wasn’t just some meaningless scrap—it was a symbol. Proof that he was part of her world, even if she didn’t realize it yet. Also, she wasn’t just a hallucination. Toby was terrified that this was a wonderful dream, like the ones he used to have with his princess (well he guessed it was you actually,) or a lovely episode. If it was just all in his head, if he finally lost it (as if he hadn’t so long ago) then he’s okay with that. As long as he gets to keep you.

Toby walked away from the bench, the paper clutched tightly in his hand. He didn’t need her to say anything more. She had already given him everything he needed.

⦻

Toby was watching you from across the table, rambling on and on about work. The cozy cafe was warmer than the outside right now. Autumn was coming. Toby liked Autumn. What he didn’t like was his birthday was coming up. He tried his best to focus on you during this time. That and his work. What wondered what the others back home would be doing? Ben was pretty upset to learn Toby wouldn’t be around for the year. Masky celebrated. At least not in front of him but he was pretty sure he was in a better mood in the the days leading up to Toby’s departure. Hoodie couldn’t seem to care either way.

You had invited him out once again. It seemed you were determined to get closer to him. Toby wasn’t about to complain. He sipped his overly sweet-beverage. It tastes fine to him. He had gotten his coffee the same way you got yours. At least now know you like a bucket full of creamer in yours. Black like my soul? Not you. The beverage was practically milk. Toby sipped it more. Having a sweet tooth himself he didn’t mind.

“Anyway, the guy is over here asking for more frosting and I’m trying to tell his sorry ass that it’s not his cake, and if he could please back away that would be great. So he proceeds to just grab the donut display and toss it to the floor. Ugh. Entitlement. I can’t stand it.”

“Wh-where do you work…again?” Toby questioned. “My parent's bakery. I know. I know. Getting a job from my parents is lame. But I’m gonna inherit it one day and the people of Ravenwood love the place. It’s like…really popular. Tourist location.”

“A-are you e-ever…dissatisfied?” He questioned. She raised a brow. “No…why would I be…dissatisfied?” “Well you mentioned you love music so I assumed that it’s something you wanted to do.”

“Oh! Well yeah, I love music, but let’s be realistic here: I’m being handed a thriving business in my lap. The bakery never goes out of style either. It’s not like frozen yogurt shops or Boba or I dunno. Everyone wants a treat now and then. It’s a guaranteed job. With this economy, I’m just grateful to have a stable job and income.”

“Have you ever wanted…more though?” Toby’s voice for once was steady.

“Oh? I mean…yeah.” She seemed a little embarrassed. “This town…it gets a little boring. I love it! I do! In a small town though, there’s only so much you can do. My friends make it pretty fun though.”

“Your f-friends?” Toby pretended to be clueless.

“Yeah…Brook, Jaga, Moon, Kai, April. I wouldn’t give them up for anything.”

Tobias didn’t like that.

“I see.”

“When you find friends like those you don’t wanna give them up for anything….everyone always seems to…leave though.” She grips her cup and shifts uncomfortably.

“L-leave?”

(Y/n) nodded. “I’m sorry I’m being…sad. Haha!”

Toby shook his head and sipped. “T-tell me more.” As Toby twitched he noticed the stares. This is why he hated being out in public.

“I dunno. I just. Whenever I make friends they tend to leave. It’s just life you know, but I just hold on. I hold on so tight and I know it’s over but I’ll still hold on to them as tight as I can. As if that would solve the rift between our growing personalities. It’s natural you know? But I can’t stand it. I know it’s over and I still cling to them like a lifeline…Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to make human connection at all. If they’re just gonna leave me in the dust. It’s not their fault though. They just… outgrow my love you know?”

Oh, Angel…

She lets out a breath. “Sorry for making it sad. What have you been up to since you moved here? Settling in okay?” (Y/n) takes a final sip of her coffee and pats her lips with a napkin, leaving faint traces of lipstick on it. She doesn’t notice the way Toby’s eyes zero in on the napkin, his breath catching slightly.

“Uh- just…unpacking.” ‘And jacking off relentlessly into your panties while I think of the wildest fantasies of what I could do to you.’

Her phone went off and she took a look, her face falling. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

“Brooks's boyfriend just broke up with her. I never really liked the guy so I might have to go beat his ass I dunno.” She laughed making it clear it was a joke. “I’m gonna get her a coffee and head out. It’s nice to just talk, you know? Maybe next time you could come over to my place instead?" She looks up at him, smiling hopefully.

His heart races. Her place. She was inviting him into her space, into her world. "S-sure. I’d like th-that." Was it a date? Was she asking him on a date? No…surely he had not progressed that quickly with her. Maybe….

As (Y/n) stands, she casually leaves the napkin on the table, not thinking twice about it."Text me when you’re free, and we’ll plan something! Maybe we can do a movie night at my place." She throws her bag over her shoulder, still smiling. "Thanks for hanging out, Toby. I’m really glad we’re becoming friends.”

"F-friends. Yeah... me too." His words barely make it past his lips, but she hears him. She waves as she heads out the door, leaving Toby alone with the napkin. As soon as she’s out of sight, Toby’s hand darts toward the napkin, his fingers trembling as they brush against the soft fabric. He lifts it slowly, staring at the faint smudge of lipstick.

Her lips were here. She left this…for me. She had to right? She was flirting right??? Leaving her lipstick stains for me, inviting me to her place.

A movie….maybe Toby could…catch her off guard. Unveil her feelings for him? Perhaps if he played his cards right he could even get her upstairs…in the bedroom. Toby was practically drooling.

⦻

Later, back in his room, Toby lies on his bed, clutching the napkin. He presses it against his lips again and again, as though each touch connects him to her in ways she could never understand.

"You don’t even know, do you, Angel? How much do I need you? How much I want you..." His voice is barely audible, swallowed by the darkness of his room.

One day Angel, it won’t be just the things I’ll take. It’ll be you.

All of you.

[violet-fluff]

💙 Levi x Reader (AU)

Loss of a Pet

Hey anon, here’s your request ❤️ again, sorry about the loss of your cat 🌈 ❤️ I bet he’s having a great time over the rainbow with the other kitties and watching over you :) much love❤️❤️

It’s been about a week since you’ve had to let your soul cat, Marty, sleep forever.

You and Marty had a great fourteen years together filled with a lot of love and laughs. Marty was even there when you and Levi first got together. Of course with Marty being a boy cat, he was pretty protective over you and would often sit in front of Levi and stare him down, or do that weird “mweeooorrr” thing if Levi tried to cuddle you.

You got the last laugh though…

Once Levi and Marty realized they were both naturally grumpy-butts and wouldn’t let either one push each other over, they came to a truce and suddenly became friends.

There would be times Marty would by pass you and go cuddle with Levi or ask him for food. Levi also would pester you about Marty.

“Did you feed him?”

“Get him a blanket it’s cold in here.”

“He hasn’t meowed today should we take him to the vet.”

Not even four years after their friendship started, Marty became ill and had to be put to sleep due to him being in pain with no cure or remedy available.

You weren’t even sure Marty was conscious enough to be aware of what was happening, but you still held him against you as the vet injected him.

Levi was then there to hold you as you let out cries when you felt Marty relax in your arms as he went to sleep.

He shed some tears of his own.

Since that day, sleep was the only activity you took part in. Sleep helped you not feel your heart break for a while.

Levi’s heart broke for you. He crawled into the bed and held you from behind.

“You doing alright?”

You merely nodded.

“He was a great cat and he knew you loved him. Animals know when they’ve had a good life, so he went in peace.”

You started to cry into the pillow and Levi ran his fingers through your hair.

Once you settled down, he sat up. “I have to show you something. Can you come to the living room with me?”

You nodded and rubbed your puffy eyes so you can see your way through the house. When you got into the living room, Levi waved you over to a small table that was next to the TV.

You started crying again at what you saw.

Levi put together a “Marty” table. He got Marty’s little cat bed and laid his urn box in it as well as his favorite blanket. There were two picture frames next to the bed. One had a picture of Marty in his little bow tie, and the other was a funny one that made you laugh through the tears.

It was a picture you took of Levi wagging his finger in Marty’s face to scold him, and Marty’s mouth was wide open with his face scrunched as he hissed at Levi.

“I also got you this. Remember that lady at work who I said makes jewelry? She was able to make this.” Levi handed you a necklace that was in the shape of a cat, and a cluster of Marty’s fur was sealed in the middle with resin.

You held it tightly in your hand and pulled Levi into a big hug.

“I’ll miss him.”

Levi hugged you back. “Me too.”

[stabbyfoxandrew]

mafia front please! they are all once again going through it.

WIP Wednesday (11/27) | Mafia Front Restaurant AU (Part 256)

When Neil's done with his phone he turns it off and crams it under his pillow before padding out to the living room where he finds his friends right where he left them. Jean is passed slick out on Kevin's lap and Kevin is idly playing with his curls, twirling one around a finger with his other hand on Jean's waist. Neil just stands there and observes until Kevin turns his head to look at him over the back of the couch.

How he felt Neil's presence, he doesn't know. But he cocks a dark brow. "Talk to Stuart?"

"Yep."

"What'd he say?"

"Said he'd handle it, sent someone out to look for the guys." Neil says with a shrug. That's about all he can do for now, wait for Stuart's men to drag them out of whatever hole they've been hiding in. He has the urge to put his shoes back on and look for himself, but he won't. Won't leave Jean right now. Or Kevin either, for that matter.

"What happened?" Kevin asks. So Neil leans against the wall and gives him the short version. Kevin doesn't mind short versions, more efficient that way. And this way Neil doesn't have to tell him Jean kissed him. But by the time he's through, Kevin is chewing on his fingernail. "So, the guy had an attitude and you gave it back and he shot at you because you look like your father."

"And Jean got between us."

"Thank god for that." Kevin says with a sigh. "You okay?"

Neil is so taken aback he just stares for a minute. "It didn't hit me."

"I know."

"It should've."

Kevin purses his lips. "Don't say that."

"It's true."

"Come here." Kevin gestures to the tiny bit of space between himself and the couch arm, a fraction of a cushion. Neil obeys, falling into the gap and resisting the urge to lean into Kevin's warmth. He stares down at Jean's face, what he can see of it, and forces himself to breathe. Suddenly Kevin's arm is a heavy reassuring weight over his shoulders, pulling him closer. "I asked if you're okay."

Neil opens his mouth to lie but decides against it. "Not really."

"Me either," Kevin whispers, like it's a big secret. "I wish you two weren't involved with this shit."

"I know."

"It's why I hate being so far away, you know. I feel so fucking... helpless." Kevin admits, voice tinged with anger and something else. When Neil looks up at him, his eyes are shiny. But Kevin blinks a couple times and exhales. "Whenever one of you takes a little too long to answer the phone I just... I wonder if something has happened. Something like this. Something worse. But what am I to do? Ring Lord Moriyama and ask him to send someone to check on my— You guys?"

"I'll answer quicker next time."

"That isn't even close to the point I was making and you're not so obtuse to believe it was." Kevin says with an eye roll. "The point is that you're always in fucking danger here and I hate it."

"It's better than it was at the—"

"That doesn't mean it's fucking good!" Kevin snaps. Then Neil watches as he smooths out his temper and locks it away. Back to the diplomatic, TV ready star he was raised to be. It's fascinating really. Finally he sighs. "It's good in New York. Amazing, even. And my apartment has room for all three of us. You wouldn't have to sleep in that box you call a bedroom."

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 14

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: A bit high PG13 in our flashback and some anxiety. AN: Dude, I'm still fucking sick. Also, I edited and posted this while working because I'm sick and it's Friday and fuck these doctors, they don't get to dump dictation on me at the end of the week and be like "It's urgent." No, fuck you and the horse you rode in on, it's not Urgent if you didn't do it till now.

~~~~~<3

Mia slept like a rock but was up right on time. Of course, on time wasn’t late enough. She rarely got enough sleep when she worked nights but she would make up for that later, she always did.

Peeking in on Sally, she found the little one still asleep. It was seven in the morning, she would be waking soon. Generally, she wasn’t one to sleep in. 

Mia took the chance to make breakfast in her new kitchen. The task wasn’t terribly difficult, even though she hadn’t even had a chance to unpack thanks to each box being labeled so clearly with the contents. Having a packing and moving crew was surely worth every penny Tom had paid for them. 

~~~~~<3

Sally sat at their little dining table, too small for the space- something Mia never thought would be a problem in her life as pancakes were set in front of her. They had a busy morning ahead of them. 

Ikea opened at ten and Mia had every intention of being there at opening. She intended to find a nice enough couch that was also affordable. Tom had probably intended for them to get a nicer couch than an Ikea special but he wasn’t here to stop her. She was unsupervised with his credit card.

The ping of her phone drew her attention. It was a text message form Ashley with a link. “Your man was on The Late Show.” 

Sally was coping well with Tom’s absence so far. Mia didn’t want to risk ruining that when she had such a busy day ahead of them by reminding her that Tom had left so rather than just following the link, she spent time digging out her headphones from her purse. 

“Momma,” Sally called, “Can I get something pretty for my new room?” 

“Yeah, sure. We’ll see what we can find.” Mia was paying more attention to jabbing an earbud in her ear. “Finish eating while I get dressed, alright?”

~~~~~<3

Mia wasn’t one to watch late night TV. She was either sleeping or she was working. Plus the famous person or politician or whoever chatting with a host about movies wasn’t really her thing. 

She set her phone down on her dresser as she traded out her pj pants for a pair of jeans. The screen loaded onto a man already talking to Tom. It must have been a clip from the show, not the whole segment. As she got dressed, she couldn’t help but be absorbed in the short video.

~~~~~<3

“You were just in Vegas, right?” The man said, leaning forward in his chair. His dark hair was cut short yet somehow still just a little wild. He had large eyes and the infectious smile of a late night comedian. 

“I was, yes.” Tom smiled.

“It was an eventful few days I hear. You got up to some stuff.”

Tom chuckled. “Eventful yes, you could say that.” 

“And you left with some bling.” Tom’s fingers twitched ever so slightly as the ring was pointed out. He wasn’t sure where this was going but he knew he needed to tread carefully. “There’s pictures!” The man said, “Bring on the pictures.”

The screen switched to Tom and Mia running down the hall, her white dress flowing and sparkly high heels glittering in the too bright lights of a hotel hallway. her face was obscured by Tom’s shoulder but his face was clearly visible.

His cheeks were bright red though if they didn’t know he was out of his mind wasted, they could believe it was from the private moment being intruded on. 

The picture switched to them kissing in the bar some time earlier. Dim lights gave them a warm glow and they had drinks in front of them. Tom’s hand was on her neck and hers was resting on his thigh as she leaned forward. Her face was obscured by his as she leaned into the kiss. 

“You’ve kept a romance under warps, Mr. Hiddleston.” The host teased. Color flushed Tom’s cheeks.

“I do like to keep my private life to myself.”

“And how long have you too been together?”

“That’s private.” Tom dodged. “But all anyone needs to know is I care for her deeply otherwise I wouldn’t have married her.” 

“So it’s not a ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ situation?” The host pressed. 

“I’m as married today as I was Friday night.” Tom reiterated. 

“Tell us about her!” The host propped his head up in his hands. If it was possible, he would have had hearts in his eyes. It was clear that the host and Tom had a report and were familiar with each other in a friendly way. 

“She’s not a public figure.” Tom started, picking his words carefully. “Her privacy is important and I want to respect that. She’s not married to Actor Tom, she’s married to me and that’s a beautiful thing. Her name is Mia and-”

“Mia!” The host cried, popping up in his seat. “What a lovely name.” 

“She’s lovely.” Tom agreed and on the other side of the country, in a different time and place Mia’s face got hot. “She’s absolutely wonderful and we’re looking forward to our future.” 

The host continued to lightheartedly press for details but Tom stood firm. They showed a few more pictures from that night neither could remember but not a single image showed her face with the exception of the picture of them going into the restaurant over the weekend. 

Had no one gotten a clear shot of her? That didn’t seem likely. Had Tom known ahead of time and asked for her face to be hidden? Was her makeup smeared and her face being hidden to protect their dignity? 

~~~~~<3

“I’m done!” Sally yelled from the dining table, throwing Mia back into reality. Perhaps not reality, in a strange way what was happening on the screen was very much a part of her reality. No, her daughter’s voice had served throw her back into the present more than anything. 

“Go get washed up.” Mia called, slipping a shirt over her head and quickly finishing getting herself dressed. 

~~~~~<3

Ikea was overwhelming, as it always was. There were too many people, too much stuff and in general, far too much stimulation. But she would get through it and in the end she would be rewarded with Swedish meatballs. That was just how trips to Ikea went. You survived and then indulged in cafeteria food. She didn’t make the rules. 

They sat on couch after couch as she picked which one would be best for the space. None of them really felt big enough but she was not going to go somewhere with more expensive sofas. That wasn’t an option. She would just have a lot of empty space in her living room. More room for Sally to play. 

The one they picked was one of the largest. Under the cushions were storage compartments. It was a few hundred dollars and would likely break down after a few short years at best, needing to be replaced but she didn’t care. 

While she hadn’t planned on it, she went ahead and got herself a pair of matching end tables and lamps to set on them. While the apartment had plenty of overhead lamps, there was a warmth that came from table lamps that she loved. 

Sally picked out a soft rug to put on the floor. All in all, Mia didn’t feel too bad about the spending. It was less than a couch would have been if she went to Ashley’s Furniture or somewhere similar like Tom had probably intended. 

The lamps were on clearance and that helped keep the cost low. The tables were the cheapest they had. Hopefully Tom wouldn’t mind. 

~~~~~<3

Mia was anxious as she stood in line waiting. She had paid for their lunches with her own debit card but this was going to go on Tom’s card. She had no plan B for if it didn’t go through. 

It was a international card, wasn’t it? Would it go through okay? What would she do if it didn't? What if they asked for her ID? 

It was irrational, she knew that. Tom was traveling and had been spending money without issue on this card for as long as he was there from what she had seen. Places rarely asked for ID for credit card transactions anymore. There was so much fraud protection that it had just fallen to the wayside. 

All the stress was for nothing. The card went through perfectly fine. No one asked her who she was to use it. No one questioned her. No one said “stop!”. It went perfectly, painlessly fine. As part of her knew it would.

The furniture would be delivered the next day. It was surreal to spend so much money at any one time. But it was done and she survived the flood of panic that came with spending his money. In the moment though, as she swiped his card, she thought she was going to revisit her Swedish meatballs. 

Would it get easier over time? Mia decided she’s really rather not find out. If she had her way, she wasn’t going to be doing anymore major spending on his card, at all. It was better she didn’t get used to this. Tom wouldn’t always be there to financially save her. He wouldn’t always be there to replace her couch. This was temporary. 

Sitting in the car before leaving IKEA, she shot a text to Tom letting him know she had spent his money as he had requested and how much the total was. 

She hadn’t heard from him all day. In the morning she had assumed he was still sleeping after working the late night appearances but now it was quickly becoming afternoon without a word. 

What did it mean? Why wasn’t he texting her? 

It drove her insane the rest of the day. She checked her phone repeatedly for a hello or even so much as an acknowledgment of the purchases.

 Nothing came however, leaving her to wrestle with the thousands of ‘what if’s that quickly took up residence in her mind. Time after time she started text messages only to delete them instead of sending. 

It was fine if he didn’t text her, right? It was okay if they didn’t talk, right? They were just strangers, really, at the end of the day. This was fine. 

~~~~~<3

The elevator walls were not mirrored but the polished stone may as well have been. Dark copies of the bride and groom surrounded them. They were alone and yet not, in this magical space. 

Tom advanced on her slowly. She matched every step he took forward with one of her own backwards. There wasn’t enough air in the elevator car as it moved up and up. 

Her heart was on cloud nine and the evaluator was taking the rest of her there. 

She couldn’t breathe. It felt like she was gasping for air in all the best ways before her back hit the polished stone wall. There was no where else to go. She couldn’t take any more steps backward. 

Her future didn’t stop just because her back hit the wall. Was this a sign of what her life would be like? Was this what her future with him would be like? Advancing faster than she could keep up? 

Her future put his hands against the stone on either side if her head, palms flat and fingers splayed. His elbows buckled and then he was supporting his weight with his forearms, oh so much closer than he had been.

His face hovered just inches from hers. His breath smelled strongly of whiskey but the air around him smelled of his cologne. The mix of the two together was intoxicating.

Leaning forward, she closed the distance. The soft velvet of his lips felt amazing against hers. There was a light stubble to his face, hardly visible but as he pushed into her, she could feel it. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands roamed around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Pinned between him and the wall, she didn’t have anywhere to go. There wasn’t anywhere she wanted to go. 

His hands groped her ass through the layers and layers of fabric that made up the skirt of her dress. Pulling up and forward, he had her off her feet. Wrapping her legs around him, only possible due to the many folds of the skirts, she embraced her future closer, trying to wrap herself around the very concept.

His lips left hers and made their way down her neck, leaving a path of damp butterfly kisses down to her collar bone. Nipping and sucking at the soft flesh had her squirming in his arms. 

The elevator wasn’t moving fast enough. There wasn’t a way she could get enough of him in here. At least, there was no legal way. There were cameras in the elevators and the halls. Again and again she told herself that.

His hand was large and warm. The warmth soaked into her breast. She arched into his touch. His touch was firm and strong. Muscles twitched and moved under her hands as she slipped them into his jacket after struggling with the buttons. 

She hadn’t felt like this in years. It was more intoxicating than all the wine they had shared. She felt powerful. Desirable. Wanted. 

Was this what love felt like? Was this what it felt like to be loved? It was the best feeling in the world. 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101 @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing

[journey-to-the-attic]

I need more pet zoo hcs bc that au lives rent free in my head

i love this au as well so i shall provide!!

even upon being turned back into demons and returning the devildom, the brothers still respond when called by their nicknames as animals

lucifer hates that he also responds to peter now but it's too late, the name's there to stay

in this au when solomon meets asmo he finds out about the animal ordeal, because he makes a joke along the lines of "whatever the duchess decrees", and asmo immediately bursts into tears because that WAS his name, once upon a time......

as animals, if provoked, they'd have a sort of demon form equivalent where they become more monstrous-looking (to the point of being vaguely eldritch if angry enough)

though the latter happens very very rarely, since there's not much in the human realm that could aggravate them that much

they do it do varying degrees of frequency - at first levi can't go a day without getting startled and suddenly growing an extra set of teeth

whereas lucifer does it exactly once throughout the entire ordeal: when diavolo and barbatos arrive and first attempt to send them to the devildom

mammon hangs out with ik pretty much 24/7, but he especially likes to chill with her while she does homework and stuff

he perches on the table attempting to help, but mostly just chews on her pens and mumbles "clever girl" in approval every few seconds

satan spends most of his time either people-watching from the windows (he has an unusual fascination with lawn mowers and the garbage trucks)

he has this habit of sleeping in the dead centre of the bed, and zhao is too scared of getting scratched to move him like ik does, so sometimes he ends up on the sofa because satan has now commandeered his room

for some reason belphie HATES the feather duster. when zhao gets it out to do some cleaning he spends the entire time trailing behind him and just glaring at it

mammon nicks little trinkets everywhere he goes and stows them all in ik's pillowcase (ik has to clear it out every now and then because it starts getting uncomfortable)

levi seems incredibly elusive, but in fact you can usually find him in one of two places: in his box, or wrapped around ik's wrist

when he's not watching the tv, he likes to just quietly observe what she's doing (so quietly that sometimes even ik forgets he's there)

asmo spends a not-insignificant amount of time sitting in the front window and waiting for passersby to notice him

sometimes it works and they stop to point and coo at the fluffy bunny, other times it doesn't and he has to slink to ik or zhao for sympathy

just flops down at their feet/across their laps looking like the absolute saddest little rabbit ever, waiting to be fussed over

he keeps himself very well-groomed, but he absolutely HAS to be brushed every evening or he'll throw a fit (running around the house and thumping his feet angrily until sufficient attention is paid)

lucifer mellows out unexpectedly quickly, and he actually defers to either human of the household without much protest

that's not to say he won't give you the most disparaging look a bird possibly could if you do something that he doesn't approve of though

there's a burglary on their street at some point and lucifer spends an entire fortnight hyper-vigilant about the house's security - he stays up late to keep guard and everything

he keeps going to sleep in the corner of the living room, to the point where they start putting blankets there. eventually it starts getting lovingly referred to as 'peter's nest'

(lucifer won't tell anyone this, but he secretly takes one of the blankets with him when it's time to go back to the devildom)

beel is such a big fur-ball but he never seems to quite understand just how large a dog he is

belphie likes to sneak into the hallway cupboard for some naptime, and beel always seems genuinely confused that he can't fit in with him

he always wakes up immediately after zhao because he's always giving him scraps from the fridge

there's an old lady down the road that just adores him, so ik takes him on walks past her house often and she'll ply with just endless amounts of ham

sometimes beel will attempt to share his food with belphie or his other brothers, but because he'll have had most of it in his mouth while carrying it over, they usually decline

though belphie will at least sniff at it and maybe nibble around the edges

belphie's constantly burrowing around in local hedges to find comfy sleeping spots and getting himself mucky, but then he gets so mad when they have to give him a bath

he'll put up with it because he doesn't want to get mud all over the comfy furniture, but the entire time he just looks livid

one time he crawled into the laundry machine while zhao was doing chores and he very nearly put him on spin cycle

satan likes to sit in front of the laundry machine and just watch it spin

sometimes lucifer sits with him, and this is how they bond in this form

one day ik trips and splits her knee on the way home from school, and somehow all seven of them get a premonition about it and swarm her as soon she opens the door

another time she's upset and getting shouted at while at school, and mammon senses this and dive-bombs through an open window to get at the offending teacher

in general they all develop a kind of sixth sense for each other. ik will be half-asleep in history and suddenly sit bolt-upright like "socks [levi] is stuck in the airing cupboard again"

i like to think it somehow carries through a little even when the brothers have settled into the devildom

diavolo is explaining his idea for the rad to them and suddenly, at the exact same time, all seven of them stiffen

he asks what's wrong and lucifer quickly dismisses it as a cold breeze, because no one wants to explain to him that they've all felt a sudden and extremely potent pang of loneliness that definitely wasn't theirs

so diavolo has to make the brothers cut ties for inter-realm safety when they're first brought to the devildom

and now that i think about it we'll have to do some tweaking in terms of the timeline - accelerate the events so that they can feasibly happen within ik's lifetime, since she'd be long gone if we were to follow the original course of events

in this case maybe the whole animal happens when she's younger (say like, ten to eleven), and then the exchange year starts when she's fifteen as per jtta

diavolo gets inspired to set up the exchange program a lot sooner, since ik and the brothers have already proven that humans and demons can form lasting bonds (also so that he can reunite them, because he feels so bad about having split them up)

also bringing in that other anon's idea where ik appears as a little sheep

the brothers, watching this ball of fluff appear in the council room: a sheep?

[dramatic zoom in on the sheep's head. somehow, it has an ahoge]

the brothers: IK?!?!!?!?!?

i can imagine that ik would be sorta cold for a bit. she hasn't really forgiven them for leaving her alone. sure, it wasn't their choice, but still....

she does warm up again, though - it's hard not to with them all compensating for the long separating by being EXTRA doting

it's also returning the favour, since ik was doing most of the looking after back when they were animals

side note though i feel like we can't even comprehend how ridiculous and cute ik would be as a lamb

have you seen that one video of a sheep being held up and spun around and it has the MOST "head empty" look on its face possible

ik just permanently looks like this is the only thing going on upstairs

also this video of lambs jumping on an older sheep. i like to imagine ik just absolutely trampling all over the others for fun (especially beel and diavolo, whose shoulders are broadest and easiest to traverse)

(she'd hold a bit of a grudge against the royals for some time though, given they were the ones who took the brothers away)

(diavolo is devastated by this because he loves small cute things and he wants to hold the little sheep so badly)

[marsspeedway]

COME ON CAROLINA- I mean, Sodo

Where Phantom tries to get close to Sodo and where Sodo must give the young Quintessence ghoul a chance. The question is… Could Sodo really give Phantom a chance?

There were many things that Phantom couldn't quite understand.

Complex things like his powers, how he can hear thoughts that aren't his own, how he can make pains go away or even how he can make someone's body just stop reacting... It's terrifying.

And then there's that innocent side of the ghoul who asked how there were little people inside the box in the living room... The TV.

Of course, Rain just smiled and explained to him that there were no people trapped in the box while Swiss mentioned it every chance he got.

«Hey Bug, wanna watch some little people fighting?»

He was referring to watching the boxing match.

To Swiss's luck Phantom doesn't mind what he does, in fact he thinks it's funny enough to let out a chuckle here and there with him.

Phantom had the opportunity to learn a lot about the human world during the last tour and adapted really well to crowds of people surprisingly quickly. Of course, considering he was summoned shortly before starting out and barely giving him time to adjust to life in the Ministry around more ghouls who didn't want to rip his head off.

His ability to socialize wasn't bad either, much better than others to tell the truth. He had come out of the pit together with a ghoulette and although they didn't know each other they had been each other's main point of support: sleeping nearby, eating together, talking together until they felt comfortable enough to start forming small conversations with their bandmates.

Aurora, the multi-ghoulette, had gotten very close to the band's keyboardists although her relationship with her multi-ghoul partner and the bassist wasn't at all bad either. Mountain had let her get close too, pleased with the girl's taste in flowers and surprisingly Sodo had gotten along well with her, even giving her one of the bouquets of flowers that had once been thrown at him on stage.

Meanwhile Phantom was not left behind, the ghoulettes also welcomed him with open arms, excited for a new companion; Mountain silently accepted him and let him loiter around him in the garden or wherever he was; Rain found his curiosity charming and in no time he found himself answering all the young Quintessence ghoul's questions and Swiss wasted no time in starting to learn from him, finding out everything he could to make him feel more comfortable and integrated and knowing how Swiss is also to annoy him.

But there was one, just one, that Phantom couldn't win over... Sodo.

The guy seemed to avoid him whenever he could, answer everything as simply and concretely as possible and Phantom hadn't been able to get any closer to him even if he had wanted to.

Which he really really wanted.

A lot.

Everything seemed fine on stage, he had even been able to kneel in front of him once and in response had received an approving nod of his head. Phantom swears he'd seen a hint of a smile when the man pulled down his mask to drink water but as quickly as they'd left the stage it had all vanished. There was no compliment from him, no smile, no pat on the back, no sign... Nothing.

«Give him a bit of time... He's not ready yet.»

Rain had told him once when Phantom asked how he could possibly try to get close to the Fire ghoul.

In Phantom's head the same question was going around and around: ready for what?

There was something clear that no one wanted to tell him, he could feel it and he knew it but no one would tell him anything.

He knows very well that he is the successor of someone, there was someone before him and someone before that someone just like he knew that Copia was not the first vocalist of the band and much less the first Papa Emeritus... Well, he was Papa Emeritus IV for a reason, wasn't he?

Why can't ghouls have a number too? Why does it have to be just "Quintessence ghoul"? Why does it have to be just "Phantom"?

Phantom found really difficult the amount of different names to remember... An Omega, someone who used to be called Delta and an Aether were the names he had been given when he asked Copia who his predecessors were... Well, at least they were few. He doesn't even want to ask Rain again the name of his own or even how many there were.

Everything seemed fine if he asked about Omega, or Delta, but if he asked about Aether... Oh if he asked about Aether.

He had been told that he had been transferred for major situations along with Sunshine, one of the previous Ghoulettes, and that they hadn't heard much from them since. It was clear that it hurt, Phantom knew it well because he could feel it.

After that he didn't ask again, not after seeing their reactions and sensing everyone's suffering, loss and longing... Not after feeling a particular pain in his chest that after trying to recognize he could only attribute to the Fire ghoul.

If the name hurt them so much then he would never utter it again.

When Phantom says he has a good relationship with everyone he's not lying. He spends hours around Mountain, cuddles with Rain and Swiss, lets his hair be styled by the Ghoulettes. He is close to everyone and is definitely already part of the pack, he is already affectionate with them and they are affectionate with him. Again, except for one of them.

Phantom is determined to try to get closer to Sodo, to find out what it is about him that he dislikes so much.

His first idea is to go to the cinema because a movie and some popcorn sure sounds like a great idea; at least to him.

Phantom is sure he has never begged so hard in his life.

"Please please pleeeease with a cherry on top!!"

Phantom had whined, clinging to Copia's calf as he tried to walk across the kitchen causing Phantom to drag himself across the tile floor and cling tighter and tighter to the poor man with legs, arms and tail.

"Phantom, I'm not going to let you go out alone."

The man had sighed, leaning against the edge of the bar as he felt the circulation in his leg might be starting to cut off.

"I told you I'm not going alone! Come on, please, pleeeease pleeeeeease-"

The younger man continued with his cheek pressed against Copia's thigh.

Swiss watched from his place on the other side of the bar, his tail wagging curiously.

"What with the little guy?"

The Multi-ghoul raised an eyebrow, admiring the way Phantom looked like some sort of overgrown baby koala.

"Phantom wants to go to the cinema." Copia ran a hand through his hair "And he won't tell me who he plans to go with."

"Is it one of the girls?"

Swiss asked tilting his head slightly; Phantom could feel both of his golden pupils glued on him. In response Rain only nudged the Multi-ghoul slightly and Mountain watched silently.

"No!"

Phantom simply replied.

"I can tag along him, you know" Rain quickly replied, ready to back up whatever the little Quintessence ghoul was going to do. "Actually Mountain and I wanted to go out and the cinema doesn't sound bad at all, does it?" The Water ghoul asked, shooting the taller one a complicit look.

"Sure."

The giant replied, looking really calm and in agreement with the proposal and the situation.

Swiss looked at them both, eyes narrowed and one eyebrow raised.

"We'll take care of Phantom and whoever he invites. You don't have to worry." Rain said to Copia, noting how the man seemed to hesitate before shaking his head and giving up.

"All right." Phantom smiled, his eyes lighting up visibly "But I expect him back in one piece, got it?"

All 3 nodded, Phantom doing it a couple more times than necessary but convincing Copia just the same.

"Good, now let go of me before I change my mind." Phantom quickly obeyed, untying his tail and limbs from Copia's leg with a huge grin on his face.

The man merely rolled his eyes, reached for one of the juice boxes from one of his ghouls and escaped back to his office; now with his leg free and without an extra weight to drag back.

The older ghouls watched Copia walk away down the hallway as the younger one silently celebrated by moving his arms, smiling and hopping around before doing a little dance that Rain thought was adorable.

"He sure learned that from you..."

Mountain leaned over to whisper to Swiss and Swiss just looked at him with a confused grimace.

"I expect a little more help the next time I want to go out with Aurora."

"Do I look like a babysitter?"

Mountain grinned, earning a small growl from the Multi-ghoul.

"Rain you're the best!"

They both heard Phantom exclaim and when they looked back up he had Rain hugged with arms and tail, squeezing and shaking him a little.

Rain merely petted his head, getting a quick peck on the cheek before he was released and Phantom moved on to Mountain.

"Thank you!"

Phantom repeated the action with the larger ghoul though it was obvious he couldn't shake him or lift him like he did with the Water ghoul.

"You're welcome Phantom."

Mountain replied, giving him a small gentle pat on the back before the younger one also gave him a peck on the cheek making him snort.

"Now is when you come to me and say you'll take me to the movie, right Bug?" Swiss asked smiling flirtatiously at the Quintessence ghoul. Phantom looked up at him, the small blush on his cheeks and his huge smile gave away how happy he was.

"Of course not." He said releasing the Earth ghoul, shaking his head.

"Who are you planning to take if not the girls or me?" The questioning made Phantom shrug.

"Sodo?" He whispered in a tiny voice, looking away and shrinking in place.

The other three looked at each other... would Sodo really agree to go out with him? They wanted to think yes, he wouldn't be so cruel as to break the heart of a creature as damn cute as Phantom.

Surely he wouldn't.

…

“No.”

That's what the Fire ghoul had said as soon as Phantom had told him «You want to go with me to» cutting off his words and slamming the door in the younger man's face.

"Come on Sodo, it's a horror one!" Phantom yelled from outside, not daring to open the door to a room that wasn't his, let alone Sodo's. "You like horror movies, don't you?" He asked him, his tail wagging anxiously behind him.

He didn't get an answer.

"We're not going alone." Phantom could hear movement inside the room. "Rain and Mountain are going too... If it makes you feel any better."  Phantom muttered near the door, practically leaning against it.

"Stop trying, I'm not going."

Phantom let the tops of his long horns hit the wood of the door.

"Why?"

Phantom had always been too curious.

"I have better things to do."

Even if his curiosity caused him pain.

"Fine."

He sighed.

Phantom took Swiss instead of Sodo.

When they returned the light in the rehearsal room was on... He definitely had better things to do.

…

"I need to get new boots..." Sodo said, stretching out on the couch in the common room. His head turned to Rain who was sitting next to Phantom playing some thing that Sodo had no idea what it was. "Do you want to come over Rain? We could stop by the bookstore on the Mall... I'm sure we'll find something you like."

Rain seemed too focused on whatever he was doing with the controller in his hands but answered anyway.

" Sorry, I have plans with the girls..." The Water ghoul informed him and when Sodo was about to tell him it was no problem Rain interrupted him, "But Phantom can go with you."

Phantom turned to see Rain in alarm, causing his attention in the game to be diverted to the man and at the same time causing the Game Over screen to jump in front of his eyes, losing their game.

Rain celebrated happily, raising his arms victoriously and looking at Phantom who looked back at him between nervous and annoyed; conflicted at having lost but at the same time anxious as he had been offered for something.

"I'm sure Phantom will gladly go, Sodo."

Rain assured.

"Tsk... Whatever."

Sodo clicked his tongue, not refusing but not outright accepting either.

And Phantom?

The boy just shrunk in place.

While he longed for the opportunity to get close to the Fire ghoul the truth was that it made him a little anxious. He barely knew anything about him, though what he did know was that he could easily burn him alive or rip out his jugular... Which if he was lucky neither would happen.

If he was lucky.

After a moment of silence Sodo stood up, taking a moment to fix his shirt and walk over to Phantom to put a finger on his chest, pressing a couple of times as he spoke.

"Fifteen minutes, you hurry up or I'll leave you."

He ordered, pulling his hand away and leaving the room without another word.

Phantom held a hand to his chest, looking up at some dead spot on the wall before remembering that he was in fact supposed to breathe.

"Tick tock Phantom... You're wasting time and Sodo is unforgiving."

Rain reminded him, causing the young man to stand up immediately.

"Sure sure, right... Thanks."

Phantom smiled at him and Rain returned the gesture, giving him a "shoo shoo" gesture with his hand to which the other nodded, heading for the door.

"And stay with him, I don't want you to get lost!"

Was the last thing Phantom heard, giving the man a thumbs up before disappearing down the hallway in direction to his room.

…

Sodo was already at the door, anxiously waiting for the young ghoul to arrive or, if possible, not even bother to show up so he could leave alone.

He could have left already even if the 15 minutes hadn't passed, he would have if it was someone else he didn't like... He could have simply not invited him, but certain words echoed in his head.

"I can't believe you didn't accept just to stay and practice." Rain had said, running a hand over his face. "I understand that you miss him, we all do... But could you give him a chance?"

Sodo was folding his arms, giving little importance to what the Water ghoul was telling him.

"It's not him..."

Rain frowned as he heard his words, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose to squeeze it before sighing; his tail wagging annoyingly behind him.

"I know Sodo, I know... But you can't keep getting stuck on it." The man told him, understanding his point but not agreeing with it. "Phantom will never be Aether and I know it... We know it."

Sodo growled.

"I'm not asking you to replace him... I'm asking you to give him a chance."

His small moment of reflection was interrupted when he heard footsteps approaching.

When he turned his head he found the ghoul running in his direction until he was in front of him.

"I'm... I'm here. Do you want to go?"

Phantom asked between gasps, looking up at him with glittering eyes.

"Shouldn't you get some breath...?" Sodo murmured worriedly, looking at the watch on his wrist... The boy still had 5 minutes to spare.

He really didn't want Sodo to leave him and go without him.

He felt a little bad but he pushed the thought out of his head quickly, putting his serious facade back on.

"Whatever... Your Glamour before you leave, I don't want to hear people screaming or anything."

And with that Sodo opened the door and stepped out, waiting for Phantom outside.

Phantom was quick to obey, running a hand through his hair to fix it a bit and stepping out behind the older man.

When Sodo turned around he found the same shirt and black jeans but this time the long dark horns and long tail of the ghoul were gone, his long hair combed to one side while his skin was no longer a violet gray and his eyes no longer had that characteristic purple color, only brown.

He inspected the boy for a moment, from head to toe, before turning around again disinterested and starting to walk being followed by Phantom without saying a single word.

…

"Look, these are pretty too."

Sodo doesn't know if bringing Phantom along was his best idea or his worst.

The boy was clearly enthusiastic about helping him look for whatever he wanted to find or basically anything he wanted to do, even agreeing to be the one to ask for directions or directions from employees at establishments.

"Not my style."

Sodo had replied, averting his gaze to another pair of boots that caught his attention.

"Right." The boy muttered, looking around for another option for Sodo. "Take your time, we still have a few more stores left to look in." Phantom reminded him.

"Mhm." Was what Sodo hummed before picking up one of the boots amples in display and inspecting it.

Phantom was content to watch Sodo looking for whatever it was he wanted to find, content when he seemed to find it and content when he tried it on and liked it.

"Are those the ones?"

"These are the ones."

Sodo stated

It wasn't long before the two found themselves walking out of the store with Phantom carrying the bag with the shoebox. Sodo seemed pleased with his purchase and Phantom now felt happy that at least the main purpose of the visit had been successfully completed.

"Any place you want to go?"

The Fire ghoul had asked after a moment of silence, not sounding interested but not eager to leave either. Phantom thought for a moment, now that Sodo mentioned it maybe he could buy a few things.

"I thought about stop by the bookstore to get Rain something... Is there a candle store around here? I'm sure Aurora would like a new one for her collection." Phantom replied, looking at the shorter man. " And now that I think about it I could get some incense for Mountain. They are usually sell together, right?"

Sodo had to admit that it's cute how the boy is interested in getting some of his mates something, he also had to admit that maybe he was a little jealous of the attention.

He wondered if Phantom would do that if they were close.

"Isn't there something you want?" Sodo asked, earning Phantom's head tilted slightly to the side; he looked like a confused puppy. "I mean something you want to get for yourself, isn't there anything?"

Phantom let out a small «Oh» before shaking his head.

"Not really."

Sodo sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I know where the bookstore is, if you get to ask for that candle place I'll go with you."

Phantom perked up and Sodo could have sworn that if he didn't have the Glamour on him he'd be sure his tail would be wagging from side to side happily.

"Sure!"

And Sodo could see the boy looking for someone to ask.

Sodo doesn't know if it was worse to see Rain decide for which book to choose or to see Phantom do the exact same thing only to end up buying 3 different ones after all... Same with the candles and incense: 2 candles for Aurora and 2 incense for Mountain, just because he couldn't decide for which scents to choose.

Sodo would help Phantom with the bags, he would if the guy would at least let him.

"I can do it, I'm fine." It was what Phantom had been repeating since they'd left their last stop, carrying Sodo's bag of boots, Rain's bag of books, and Aurora and Mountain's candles and incense. "Do you want to go inside?" was the other thing Phantom had been repeating every time he saw Sodo looking in some shop window.

"No, I'm good."

That's what Sodo had replied each and every time.

He was sure that if he said he liked something Phantom would insist on coming in and getting the garment for him to try on and if he bought it he was sure the ghoul would carry the bag without letting him even say no. Well, he's sure Swiss and Mountain will be happy not to carry everything the next time they go out together.

Yeah, maybe next time.

Next time.

Sodo doesn't know when he started contemplating a next outing, much less accompanied by the young Quintessence ghoul.

He feels something stirring in his chest, he wants to think it's annoyance.

But no... It's not annoyance.

…

He's glad Phantom didn't question anything when he told him he wanted to leave, he's also grateful that Phantom is silent on the way to the Abbey.

When he parks in the driveway Sodo has his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white from the strength. The car is still on, but they're no longer moving, they're home but none of them get out.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Phantom flinches at the tone of voice being used, turning his head to look at him.

"Excuse me?"

The rhythm guitarist questions, eyeing his major.

"Don't play dumb." Sodo spits still looking straight ahead. "All nice and obliging."

"I don't play dumb-"

"Yeah sure, and I was born yesterday Phantom."

The one mentioned shrugs looking away, wondering what to do in this situation. Was this a confrontation? A fight? An argument? Phantom is not a fan of any of those.

"I don't know what got you like this... I thought we were fine." He muttered, resting his eyes on Sodo's darkened figure. "We weren't fine?" Phantom's voice was small.

Sodo's chest contracted.

"Don't try to give me pity."

"I'm not trying to give you pity- it's a genuine question!" Phantom squeaked, his voice cracking for a moment as he tried to raise his voice a little. "I seriously don't know what you mean!"

"Stop using your damn Quintessence on me!"

"I'm not!"

"Then why do I feel this way!?

"Have you ever thought that maybe it's just you!?"

Phantom wasn't even angry like Sodo, which he could sense, but he had instinctively yelled out of reflex; a sort of thing that comes from his days in the pit, something about dominating the situation by raising his voice.

He honestly hated that instinct.

Silence settled between the two, the air heavy as Phantom felt Sodo's anger swirl in his own chest and as soon as it rose it fall, filling the burning void with a deafening pain that Phantom recognized as familiar.

Sodo's head hit the top of the steering wheel.

"Do you hate me?"

Phantom asked in a tiny voice, as innocent as a child who doesn't know that the word hate is too strong.

Sodo felt the air leaving his lungs, his stomach dropping as he realized what he had made the young ghoul believe.

"I don't hate you..." His voice sounded soft, much softer than Phantom had heard in the time he had been with them. "I see you and I can't stop thinking about him."

Sodo admitted with pain and some anger, not at Phantom but at himself.

"Is it because I look so much like him?"

"It's because you don't look anything like him!"

"Oh..."

Sodo sighed, lifting his head to look at Phantom.

"You're not him and I know it." His eyes locked onto Phantom's, narrowed and threatening to water. "I can't replace him, I don't want to replace him... But I can give you a chance." The Fire ghoul muttered, soon shaking his head.

"No..."

Phantom felt his own stomach drop, twist with anxiety at his words, what did that mean, that he wouldn't give him a chance?

Phantom felt himself breathing again when he realized something was holding his hand, a rough touch against his skin. His gaze lowered to his hand where he found a slightly smaller one holding his own.

"With everything I've done... I think you should be the one to choose to give me a chance."

Sodo murmured, the lights from the car's headlights illuminating them slightly from outside and Phantom thought Sodo's face being illuminated by the yellowish light was one of the most beautiful things in this world.

Sodo's hand was still on his, gently holding him to let him know that he could pull away if he wished. To Sodo's little surprise, and which he would have liked to have been greater, Phantom moved closer to him and made his fingers intertwine with the elder's.

"Take it." Phantom stated breathlessly, his eyes never leaving the other's. "Let me get to know you, please. Let me be one of your mates." Phantom practically begged, his cheeks tinted a soft reddish hue. "I could never replace him and I can't heal your pain but I can keep you company."

Sodo watched him, sensing Phantom's intentions for miles.

"Keep me company... Know me."

Sodo whispered, watching as in his companion's eyes a violet glint shone for a mere millisecond before he had the younger man pressing his lips to his. The ghoul's soft lips sent a faint static across Sodo's chapped lips, only increasing as Phantom leaned closer and caught his other hand to intertwine their fingers.

The kiss was soft, cute and innocent; something Sodo already saw coming. When they parted Sodo let out a chuckle at Phantom trying to scratch the underside of his nose with his shoulder in an attempt not to let go of the man; consequently he made his arm rise and thus his hand next to Sodo's, who didn't even bother trying to stop him.

"Your mustache itches..."

Phantom said almost pouting.

"Ya, and Swiss's doesn't."

"Hey!"

Phantom protested, his cheeks a little redder this time and his eyes extremely bright with that purple tinge that escaped the illusion of his Glamour.

"Come on, let go of me and let's go inside already."

Sodo ordered, trying to disengage his hand from Phantom's grip who seemed a bit reluctant at the idea.

"You can hold my hand when we go down..."

Sodo offered and Phantom didn't hesitate for a second to get out, with Sodo turning off the engine and lights before opening the door.

When Sodo rounded the car Phantom already had the bags in one hand and the remaining one was offered in his direction. Without the possibility of refusing, and without wanting to, Sodo took his hand and allowed himself to be guided to the doors of the Abbey.

…

"Phantom you didn't have to!" Rain had raised his voice, seeing the three books wrapped in protective plastic that the young man had handed him. "What am I going to do with you?" The Water ghoul muttered, pulling Phantom into a tight embrace as he laughed softly.

"Thanks for the candles Ant!"

Aurora had told him later after giving her the pair of candles, also giving him a tight hug.

Mountain approached from behind, leaning forward and placing his chin on the Quintessence ghoul's fluffy hair to rub it against him, making the boy smell a little more like him; his silent token of thanks.

"You know it's nothing," Phantom sighed happily, stroking the Earth ghoul's cheek softly "I like to see you happy."

Sodo, sitting on one of the bar stools, couldn't help but smile goofily... At last he could see his pack happy again; at last he could feel happy again.

Without him noticing Phantom slid in beside him, hugging him and wrapping his tail around him as he now knew he liked to do.

Sodo could feel the static the ghoul exuded and Phantom could feel the heat the other radiated.

"I can see you two seem to have talked a thing or two."

Rain said smiling, noting the joy evident in both of them.

"Yeah... We talked a few."

Sodo answered.

"His mustache itches."

Phantom muttered.

"You'll get used to it."

Mountain replied.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Settling - Frenkie De Jong

Summary: Your relationship is taken to another step

Whenever you thought about future, you could see your two and half years boyfriend, Frenkie, in it. Already settled in with two dogs (Not counting Jagger), a nice not too big neither too small house in Barcelona.

Now, making this big step on your relationship where he just proposed you to move in with him two weeks ago,was everything to you, you were that happy that you screamed a big YES on his face, seconds later regretting it after he had flinched covering his ear

"Move in with me?" The strawberry made words spelled out on the plate chocolate covered made you gasp

"Are you serious?" You asked laughing to yourself as he nods pulling out a little key "OMG, YES!" Frenkie laughed but flinched at your high tone

"Shit, I'm so sorry"

"I'm deaf now" You had laughed throwing yourself at him

The big deal was this one, the house hunting and decorating it, giving it your guys touches and basically doing the moving in. Already having half of that done, seeing as Frenkie did knew your likings and bought the perfect house for the two-three of you, if you counted Jagger at the moment.

It had five rooms, three bathrooms, a library and work space for you and a big backyard for Frenkie to practice a bit and for you to have a lot of fun either in alone time or with family and friends. Also with a pool, for summer days.

You loved it. And so Frenkie did.

After doing the furniture shopping, you decided to put hands on work

Couches were already put in place, the bed was put in your bedroom still not armed, the mattress on the floor, you both had already decided the bed would be done tomorrow, the fridge, the TV, most of the tables and heavy stuffs were also in place, with a lot of boxes of yours and Frenkie's stuffs and also stuffs to decorate your house

Meanwhile Frenkie was standing in front of your new house, you were pulling the food that some neighbours already came in and gave you some pastries or food to welcome the both of you in the urbanization, inside your fridge

"You can't exactly eat all the chocolate cakes there are in our fridge right now" You had said laughing knowing his strict diet, you jogged the few steps down to meet him, Frenkie groaned a bit extending his arm out for you to nestle in his side.

He liked sweets but was also very aware his life style didn't allowed him to eat it as much as he would like to

"You'll eat it for me, right?" You laughed

"I'll get diabetes if I eat them in one go" Both of you laughed lightly

"I'll take care of you then" You smiled standing on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. You were happy, starting a new chapter of your relationship and your life with your person

"Thanks for the house" You blurted out

"You don't have to thank me" He laughed a bit "This is our life now" You blushed hugging him tighter "I want this, you want this too. This is just a step more"

"It's a shame tho" You said "This house is so pretty and once we've kids we'll have to move out"

Both of you had talked about a family and it was in your guys plan. Not now but in a few years, definitely.

"Who said that will happen? I bought this house with that amount of rooms for our kids, as much this feeling is amazing, the moving in with you, the furniture shopping and everything else... I'm not moving the fridge out of this house ever again" You laughed as Frenkie shook his head "Too much work to do" You ended up laughing together

You were left in silence for a good few seconds more before you heard Jagger bark, you laughed lightly and yawned

"C'mon love. Let's go and take a lil nap"

"Lil? You mean as in... We sleep in until tomorrow right? I don't have the energy to keep going" Frenkie laughed kissing your head

"Of course, that's exactly what I meant, love"