#i hope it'll be easy to go back to that routine :/

[qrevo]

my pc is not turning on. war and hate on planet earth

[katstarry]

no one noticed

eddie munson x reader

part i

masterlist ☆

part ii | part iii

summary: being paired up for a project with eddie leads to a beautiful friendship, it's inevitable that you gain a crush.

warnings: PINING, slow burn, fluff, slight self-deprecating thoughts?, reader is an academic achiever/seeks academic validation kinda (self insert lmaoo), reader has long hair, the upside down doesn't exist here, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: this is longer than i expected it to be, maybe i'll even make a small series of this :3 lmk if you guys would be interested!

feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆

the morning started out as it always does.

your alarm wakes you up, you get ready for school, say goodbye to your mom, and maybe grab a quick snack before heading out and driving to school. the usual routine.

it's your senior year, it's supposed to be the best year of high school. though, so far it has been very disappointing. you blame yourself for not being as extroverted as you hoped to be during your freshman year, now you don't have as many friends as middle school you had envisioned.

but you do have robin.

she's been your closest friend throughout the years, having met her in freshman year in the library, where you spent your lunchtime at, and you're okay with just having one close friend. you've come to peace with that. robin has been the bestest friend you've ever had, she's became a confidant, and you never have to put up a front with her. it's easy to talk to her, she has that sort of power somehow. what usually takes you a few weeks to become comfortable with someone new, it had only been a mere few days before being totally comfortable with robin.

as you walk into the school, you walk to your locker, seeing her right beside it.

"hey robin," you smile at her as she moves out the way for you, "good morning."

she returns your smile with her shoulder to the locker beside your own, one bookbag strap hanging from the other, "goood morning!"

you grab the materials you need for the first class of the day, "what's got you so happy this early?" you yawn.

robin shrugs, "can't a woman just be happy to see her best friend?"

rolling your eyes playfully, "of course you can!" you smirk at her, closing the locker and adjusting your bag on your shoulder, "...but maybe it has to do with a certain bandmate of yours?" you whisper.

she gasps, whispering back, "what! no. definitely not, definitely did not talk to her just a few minutes ago."

you laugh as the bell rings, signaling the start of the day.

"guess i'll see you at lunch?"

she nods, "can we go to the cafeteria today instead of the library? forgot my lunch today, woke up late."

you both begin to walk to the direction of your classes, "yeah that's fine, see you there!" giving her a side hug, you both go your separate ways.

it's now your class before lunch, history.

the day has felt longer than usual. you can't wait for it to be over and have your after school nap.

dropping your bag beside your desk, you sit and take out your notebook for the class.

the other students come walking in, he sits in his usual spot behind you.

you sit up straighter, god i'm so embarrassing.

usually, you hate having to have people sit behind you. it always feels like their watching your every move. of course, it's not true, but you can't help but think it. it's why you always sit in the back. but unfortunately, those seats were taken when you had walked in the first day of this class.

it's even worse when you think the person behind you is cute.

you move your hair to your shoulders, hoping it covers the sight to your notebook. you're just shading in the margins.

you look up when the teacher gets up from his desk, class is about to start.

"alright class, let's get started."

he walks over to the door and shuts it, and begins taking attendance.

"well, for today it'll be fairly easy. you won't hear me talk much today," the class let's out sighs of relief, the jocks who get along with him laugh playfully, "alright, alright. you won't be doing that after what i tell you."

oh no. you already know what he's about to say.

"we'll be doing a project! you'll be grouped up in pairs." immediately people begin to look at one another, already knowing who they want to be paired with, you look around, you don't really talk to anyone in that class. though, nancy wheeler has been kind to you, hopefully she'd want to pair up with you. but probably not, since barb and jonathan is in this class too. you can still hope though. any of them!

"before you get excited, i'll be the one assigning groups. it'll be at random."

now, the class really does let out sounds of disappointment and dissatisfaction.

"i told you, you wouldn't like it!" he laughs and clears his throat and goes back to his desk, grabbing a piece of paper and going back to leaning on his podium.

"alright, let's see here." he goes on to list the pairings, you anxiously wait for your name to be called.

please. please, please, pair me with nancy. or barb. or jonathan.

"nancy wheeler and-" please! "barbara holland."

well, okay. that's fine, who else is left? you'd been so caught up in waiting for your name that you hadn't kept up with who was called and who hasn't. jonathan! he hasn’t been called yet. please, please, please-

"y/n l/n and-" oh shit, that's you. "eddie munson."

oh shit, he's behind you.

the girl in front of you turns around and whispers to you, "good luck."

should you turn around? if you don't what if he thinks you're upset about being paired with him? you should probably turn around, the teacher keeps listing names, and you look back briefly.

he's already looking at you and you awkwardly make eye contact; you give a small smile and turn back around. okay that wasn't so bad right? dang it. you've tried your hardest to not talk to him. but if you think someone's cute you should want to talk to them, right? wrong. you never know what to say when you like someone, how can you even like someone without talking to them? you don't know, but it happened anyway. and now you're basically being forced to talk to him.

robin's going to love this.

"okay, now that you know who your partners are, i'll talk about what this project will be about. you and your partners will come up with a topic, it'll have to be a significant part of history. you'll make a presentation where both will have to speak in front of the class. you can bring in photos, poster boards, anything to aid the presentations. it's not necessary, but it could earn you extra points!"

he looks over to the clock on the wall, "... i'll give you until the end of class, which is about," he looks down to his wristwatch to double check, "40 minutes from now, to come up with a topic, come to my desk to let me know you've come up with something before leaving class, please."

clapping his hands together, he sighs, "alright! pair up!"

everyone begins to move to be with their partners, darn it. all you have to do is turn around. it's not that big a deal. as nervous as you are to talk to eddie, your grade matters more than a silly crush.

you turn around in your seat, grabbing your notebook and putting it in your lap. finally looking up you see him tapping his pencil on his desk, also looking up. the awkward eye contact again, awkward to you at least.

okay. maybe you can fail one project.

who are you kidding, your parents would look at you crazy if you came home with a failing grade.

"hey." you finally say, giving him another shy smile. god damn it why are you so awkward.

he nods, "hey." he leans onto his elbows, looking away, "it's alright if you wanna switch partners y'know? or if you wanna work alone, or something."

you look at him in surprise, "no! it's fine. i don't mind working with you, sorry if i gave that impression." furrowing your eyebrows, dang it maybe your nervousness made him think that.

he looks back to you, "really? i wouldn't want to bring your grade down, straight A student." he smiles. okay, now he's just messing with you.

you can't help the heat that rushes to your cheeks, so he must know about you then? how does he know that?

"funny that you think i would let that happen." you laugh.

he leans back onto his chair, arms now crossed on the table. "alright then, are you sure you wanna be my partner, then?" he looks at you, eyebrows raised.

"yes, i'm sure." you now lean on his desk, arms also crossed.

"do you have any ideas for our topic?" you grab the notebook from your lap, grab a pencil, and put it in between you both on the desk.

he sits up now, leaning on the desk, mirroring your actions.

oh no, he's close now, breathe.

he scratches the back of his neck, "uh... not really."

"alright, that's fine. uhm," you look at the clock, "we have about 35? 30? minutes, so we have time. we should just pick a few things and then we can pick the one we like best, yeah?" you write in your notebook, ideas, and underline it. you look back up and find eddie looking down at your notebook before looking back up as well.

"yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

you tap your pencil and bite your lip, thinking.

"hmm... we could do like the great depression or something." you murmur and write it down.

as you have your head down to write it, you miss eddie's panicked gaze. he's never really had much care for these types of things since usually whoever he's partnered with doesn't even bother talking to him and do it all themselves, doesn't even give him the chance to contribute. he quickly tries to think so that he can add something too.

"uh, the- what about the american revolution? or something? i dunno."

you look back up, "yeah! you wanna write that?"

you offer the pencil to him, "sure." he takes it, turning the notebook towards him, feeling a bit insecure about his handwriting compared to yours that's above his own. it isn't the neatest, and he never really cared about it, but he can't help it when you look at him like that.

the rest of the time goes by like that, going back and forth with ideas, your notebook page filled with both your handwriting.

"okay, we have like 10 minutes left. do you have a favorite?"

you tilt your head as you wait for an answer.

"uh," he bites his lip as he looks down at the list, "the invention of the printing press?" to be honest he just picked a random one.

"cool! i'm alright with that." you smile as you put a small star beside the idea.

"hmm... would you want to do a poster board? or anything?"

no, honestly he would not. but he looks at you and can tell that you really would, anything that would earn extra points, right? he smiles.

"i wouldn't mind it. i could buy the stuff for it." he doesn't have the money for it, but he'll just have to sell more of his stuff for it.

"really? no that's okay, i'm the one that wanted to do it."

"nooo," he gives you a pointed look, playfully scolding you, "i'll buy it. what do we need for that?" he plays with the end of his hair twisting it in front of his face. a nervous habit of his, you make him nervous. not that you realize.

"well, the board, some markers, we could use mine since i already have some, and some glue. we could print out the stuff we need at the library, once we find out whatever we need to print."

"alrighty then. we made a lot of progress today then, huh? i'm the best partner you could have! we're really an unstoppable duo, right here." he puts his hand up for a high-five.

you give him the high-five, ignoring the tingly feeling on your hand, and it wasn't from the impact.

"oh yeah, totally." you laugh.

"i don't like that tone." he squints at you.

"what do you mean? i'm serious! we are the best duo." you smile.

"alright, i believe you." he smiles and stretches.

the bell rings, and it feels like suddenly the day went by too fast now.

you stand and grab your things, writing your names on an index card and the topic for the project.

eddie stands as well, about to say something but you beat him to it.

"let's go turn in our topic."

he usually is out the door when they do this, okay.

you both walk to the teachers desk, you smile and give him the index card.

he takes it and looks up with a smile, "great topic!" he looks over at eddie, "hopefully she rubs off on you!"

you frown and look over at eddie, who gives him a sarcastic smile and nod.

you both walk out the classroom, "do you have lunch after this?" he asks.

you stop in your tracks, about to walk to the cafeteria to meet robin.

"yeah i do, do you?"

"yup." he smiles and walks beside you, making your way to the cafeteria.

"y'know i was always scared to talk to you." he gives you a side eye, before looking straight again.

"what? of me?" you look over at him incredulously.

"oh, totally. thought you were scary, y'know being a smarty pants and all."

ah, so he's messing with you. again.

"ha ha," you roll your eyes, though you're smiling, "very funny."

"you know those candies? what're they called? smarties? yeah, that's you."

"what? it's a candy!" you laugh.

"so? that's still you."

"okay, okay. i'm not that smart alright?" you shake your head, still smiling. you can't stop smiling.

he looks at you like you're crazy. "you're kidding, right? don't you have like, the highest grade in the class?"

you shrug, feeling shy. "could be better, though."

the cafeteria is in view now, and you desperately need to change the subject. "well, guess this is where we go our separate ways." you sigh dramatically.

"i guess so." he breaks eye contact and looks around, "you could uh, sit at our table. if you want."

"oh! uh... i wouldn't want to bother-" "you wouldn't be."

you smile at him and he swears he can hear his heat beating out his chest right now.

"thank you. but i was gonna meet with my friend robin. i'll see you tomorrow in class, though."

"right, yeah, that's fine. see you tomorrow." he opens the door to the cafeteria and dramatically makes way for you to pass through.

you wave him goodbye as he makes way to his groups table, you see robin at your usual spot.

oh you aren't going to hear the end of this.

[buttercupblu]

Satoru's Psyche|Escalating

"Should I really have to suffer for my actions?"

Previous SessionSession 2 of 10|Next Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Patient Gojo displayed extremely flirtatious and unruly behavior during the first half of his visit. Mentions of escape and kid-napping were noted as well as enforced close proximity with his nurse. Threatening remarks were also made at the end of his lunch in response to mentions of disciplinary action. Patient is scheduled for a bath but is pending the possibility of negative punishment to instill corrective behaviors. 📋Length of Session (w.c): 8.3k out of "i said we will cross that bridge when we get to it 😊" 💊Intake Chart (tags): mild violence but no in-action descriptors, coercion, manipulation, drug use, angst, unwatched close contact and touch, nudity, mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️Doctor's angel’s note: i hope you know what you're doing, Nurse 🎼Waiting room music: Overheated|Billie Eilish

Choose wisely.

Hunger stirs in your tummy, and Gojo's words sit with you through lunch. Your spoon clinks around the bowl, stirring the soup growing colder by the second though the growls from your stomach are too obnoxious to be ignored. But your mind wanders.

You're stuck. Earlier, you were all for serving up justice on a silver platter, but now you're seriously second-guessing your "genius" idea to punish Gojo by making him someone else's problem.

As if anyone will be crazy enough to say yes.

Everyone already avoids his wing like the plague. It's kind of an unspoken fact that you are Gojo's one and only. The only staff he allows near him. Anyone else would be playing with fire.

And if someone is brave enough to willingly throw themselves into the lion's den, they definitely can't be new. New to nursing—new to the ward. High expertise is needed here. Someone seasoned—experience which you lack yourself—otherwise, they won't last a second with Gojo.

It'll be way too easy for him to make them snap, like tossing a bone to a dog.

"Persephone." Yuko brings you out of your coma.

You perk up, instinctively smiling. "Hey, what's up?"

"You tell me," she snorts. "You've been playing with your food like break isn't over in 10 minutes." She touches your arm. "Everything ok?"

It's written all over your face, huh? You could deflate right now.

This is why Yuko is your favorite co-worker. Always reading you like a book without you needing to say a word. Quick to call anything off out.

Leaning back in your chair, you huff, rubbing circles into your temples to relieve the headache you didn't know you had.

"Yeah, yeah," you begin, "It's just—" You stop, her eyes hold so much concern and you've barely opened your mouth. Not sure if you should now because you know what kind of person Yuko is.

And if she knew even half of what you don't tell her during your lunch breaks spent complaining about work, she'd hang Gojo out to dry if she could. She often makes it very clear she hates you have to deal with him at all.

"—I'm just a bit tired. Gojo's scheduled for a bath later, him and two others. Gojo's easy but...I don't know. I feel slower than usual today. Definitely won't get home until late, again, because of all these sponge baths." You cringe at the last part.

Aside from trying to keep Yuko cool, you also don't want to risk the news getting back to the Director who could take you off of Gojo completely. No one else can take your place. And who knows what would happen if you disappeared from his roster for good?

How would his threats manifest?

Yuko scoffs, waving her hand.

"Gojo and easy do not go together," and you both shake your heads and laugh. "But I get it. You did come in super early."

"Thought there'd be less of us," you sigh.

"Sonya's been on our asses lately, right? But hey, she finally got us all here."

"A little too late. The damage is done," you pout, resting your elbows on the table, realizing you've accidentally grown used to chaos and ever-changing schedule.

You routinely plan ahead to make sure you can stand up when people fall short. Constantly putting yourself on the back burner seems to be a thing that always set you back.

"Sooo, you just need rest, ya? Nothing else? Gojo—" there she goes "—been 'okay' with you lately?"

Your heart skips. "Ya. he isn't so bad today," you lie, "I'd just love to be home on time for once. Maybe even a bit early, I'm soo close. Overtime's been wringing my neck for weeks."

Yuko looks at you with puppy dog eyes. And not in a "I feel sorry for you" kind of way, but one that almost makes you feel bad for not telling her the whole truth.

"Here," she pushes your soup towards you, "How about I do Gojo's bath and you get an early start on my last two? That way you can at least binge that show you won't shut up about later." She smiles.

You immediately protest.

There's no way you can do that to her.

Yuko never even crossed your mind and was far from your first pick, not because she can't handle him but because she's your friend. Not just a colleague, but someone you actually care about more than anyone else in this run-down job even if she doesn't feel the same.

She's too good of a person, and you'd be the Devil Incarnate if you let her do something so risky. Especially when you can just suck it up and get it over with.

"Woah, woah, it's just a bath, calm down," she says, taking your hands in hers as you ramble on, trying to convince her that you'll be fine or that you'll find someone else. Burdening her is simply out of the question.

"Who else but me, Seph'?" and she tilts her head, "You don't you think I'm as good as you?" And the way she says it, giving you that look she does when you're being stubborn, dares you to challenge her.

Now you really have to think about what to say.

Goddamn it, you regret saying anything at all, but Yuko's so motherly, how could you resist? Hiding from her is impossible, she would've sniffed you out sooner or later.

Easing your pains when she can is her specialty—helping to calm and settle you down when you blow things out of proportion.

Could this be one of those moments? Or are Gojo's words more than just hot air?

The back and forth is killing you, but the combination of Yuko's reassuring touch and your gurgling stomach puts the final nail in the coffin as she reminds you of the time.

Eyes wide, you look at the clock, ticking away faster than you realized, then back at your lukewarm soup.

Denying that you need help would be silly because technically it's true. You probably should've asked the Director for a little Gojo break forever ago, even if just for a few hours a few times a week. It would be better than nothing because if you can't function, Gojo can't be cared for.

So, who better to help bridge that gap for you than Yuko?

The gutsy woman has been your rock ever since you started at the ward, having your back and sticking with you through tough times when staff constantly dips in and out of the facility like a rotating door, unable to handle the job.

Yuko's a real day one, and next to you, she's the most competent nurse in these walls, fully equipped with a "take-no-shit" attitude that routinely keeps her patients in check.

When you really think about it, it'd be silly, downright irresponsible to trust anyone else.

Her offer is simply too good to dismiss.

"Thank you, Yuko," you cave, grabbing your spoon and finally allowing yourself to enjoy your meal. "You're...amazing. I don't deserve you."

She looks on happily. "Just promise me you'll take some personal time after this," she insists, worry evident in her voice. "We both know how much you care, but even superheroes need rest." She's too kind and right in more ways than one. "Besides, I think Gojo will like me, ya? I'm cool. I'm fun. He'll like a friend of friend?"

You roll your eyes—ya, totally, cool people definitely say they're cool.

Not knowing whether to joke back or wave her off, you softly smile at her concern before nodding, vowing to make good on your promise and feel a bit lighter knowing your wish for early release will actually come true.

Maybe.

The latest threat to your miracle in the making is Mr. Hampton, who is personally making it his business to drag the already long day by its edges, almost bringing time to a standstill with the way he's handling his bath.

Enormous and lumbering, the man Yuko usually deals with took his sweet time gathering his things and even longer trekking down the seemingly endless halls leading to the bathing area. Occupying every inch of the space like those massive trucks that hog the interstate, yet inching along at a pace that makes a snail look like it's in a sprint.

All that was missing were the yellow hazard lights.

Oh no, please, take your time, you think, watching Mr. Hampton clean each limb painstakingly s l o w in a tub that's comically too small for him. You may have been able to rush through Yuko's first patient, but this one wanted all that time back.

His pace resembles a giant's, and his cheery, nonsensical hums echo around the hollow chambers and lull you to sleep, turning your eyes into bricks under the spell of his melody. Perfect timing for the energy drinks from early to crash you out, tag teaming with the chair beneath you that feels a bit too soft as you lean over the tub, willing the colossal man to hurry up.

Warm water flows over your skin as you scrub circles on his neck, deciding to bite the bullet and take over the bath so he can play with the bubbles and get out when you hear a blood-curdling scream.

Your entire body goes rigid, shock reverberating through your spine and forcing you to halt as your mind goes blank. But steamy water brings you back to life, drenching your shirt and upper thighs when Mr. Hampton jumps from the noise.

The rude awakening makes you lock in.

The scream. It sounds like...no, you know it came from the west wing...where Gojo is.

And Yuko.

Hurried steps rush past your door, sounds of multidirectional distress and frantic shouts echoing through the corridor—staff members and patients alike sweep into a whirlwind of panic.

You're number one, dropping the scrubber and scrambling to help Mr. Hampton out of the tub, hands shaking as he grips them.

A security guard bursts into the room, face ashen and jaw tight.

"Nurse! We need everyone in the west wing, immediately!" The command is sharp, laced with an urgency you've never seen before.

And immediately feel responsible for.

"There's been an incident."

Without another thought, you wrap Mr. Hampton in a towel, trying your best to assure him that everything is fine when your obviously trembling body says nothing is. His confused gaze follows you as you lead him back to his room, the commotion in the air moving him a lot faster than earlier before you rush back out and head straight for the west wing—where chaos reigns supreme.

The usually pristine floors, normally squeaky clean due to lack of traffic, are now barely visible. Staff members crowd the familiar hall for the first time since Gojo made it his own, filling the space with more bodies than you're used to and making it difficult to find the source of trouble.

Not like you need to. The truth is painfully clear, and it's disrespectful to even pretend you don't know exactly what went wrong.

You push through the masses, clumsily bumping shoulders, your heart beating into your ears and making the world seem quiet as you inch closer and closer to disaster. Dragging imaginary shackles on your feet until you all but collapse once you spot it.

Gojo—barely restrained by guards, straitjacket nowhere in sight—standing absolutely furious.

And for the first time today, time seems to slow down, your mouth suddenly becoming dry when you look past him.

Yuko.

Halfway out the door to his room. Sprawled out on the ground. Bruised, unconscious, and no signs of breathing.

Your hands fly to your lips, mouth agape. Murmurs from the crowd swirl around you before attendants rush to Yuko's side, knocking into your pathetic frame as you stand too frozen to move.

They gently pick her up, careful to handle her motionless body and place her on a stretcher. Her usually vibrant face is drained of color, twisting the dagger in your chest when you spot the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Fighting for breath.

Fighting.

It hits you like a train.

Someone as kind as her, always greeting you with warmth and empathy and capacity every time she sees you, should never have to lift a finger let alone fight for her life. The sight is too much to bear.

Waves of helplessness crash over you and you can't even look at her. Regretting with every ounce of your being that you sent her in your place. Knowing this could happen. Concerned only with your silly wants and needs.

But you're so confused.

The ward should have weakened Gojo—Yuko should have been fine. The only threat Gojo has up his sleeve is mental torture but Yuko might as well be Freud. Her mind is sound, strong.

And that's where you fucked up, forgetting that Gojo's pure strength, especially when he's lost his fucking mind and triggered, is stronger.

Even with his security system in place, the devil is still powerful enough on his own. And like this was some sick and twisted experiment to help you figure that out, Yuko was the one to pay the price.

"I warned, I WARNED YOU!" Gojo's words pierce the overlapping voices like a sword, breaking your shock and drawing everyone's attention to the strange interaction between the two of you. "I don't like to be touched by strangers, Nurse." Guards struggle to restrain him as he pulls away.

All eyes fall on you and the stares are intense. Confusion and judgment.

Why was Yuko here in the first place?Where was Seph’?How’d he get out?How did this happen? 

Whether the murmurs are real or in your head, the effect is all the same, and you wish you could just completely vanish. Standing like a deer in headlights—and they're so fucking bright.

But Gojo is brimming with malice and amusement, chaotic energy pulsing from the hellish man and threatening to send sparks flying. Daring someone to be brave and push the button.

But despite his outward display of dominance, the pure rage on his face that makes you feel sick to your stomach about every decision you've ever made, there's something...uncertain lurking behind those fiery eyes.

Something like...apprehension.

Like he knows he's done something wrong.

Yet, words escape you, as if anything needs to or even could be said. But soon, fear and guilt turn to anger, threatening to consume you. Ready to eat you alive and spit out the bones with disgust because you are not a victim.

You have no right to stand here, spineless, shocked, or feeling even a little sorry for yourself. Holding back tears because you know what you've done.

Your fists clench, unsure how to deal with it, but there's fire in your eyes because someone needs to pay.

But then you exhale, thoughts shifting to Yuko as you take a good look around at what happened the last time you decided to take things into your own hands. All of your actions, even now, are rooted in selfishness. Like you've learned nothing.

Pushing down the knot growing in your stomach, you turn away to follow the medics, deciding your friend needs you more than you need revenge. Gojo doesn't deserve any more of your attention, even if it means risking your job or life to turn your back on him.

And there's nothing Gojo hates more than being ignored.

Struggled and strained noises grow louder. Guards tighten their grip on the fuming man whose raw strength outnumbers thousands of them even without his cursed energy.

You look back, their determination to keep him contained making you nervous. You don't anyone else to get hurt and Gojo is fully exploiting that.

You're painfully aware that your decisions have put you in this position, watching the guards' valiant but increasingly pointless effort to prevent Gojo from causing further harm. But it's obviously a losing fight, and the unease on their faces is unmistakably clear.

You wonder why they don't just run like hell.

"Let's go," a guard barks, but Gojo remains fixed in place. Moving a boulder would be easier.

"No, I'm filthy," Gojo protests, smirking, "And if I don't have my bath soon, there will be hell to pay."

Seeing no one else in the room, his eyes are locked only on you, his expression a menacing promise that would send anyone else running for the hills. A look that says, "Try that shit again, and there will be casualties instead of mercy."

Reinforcements are called but it won't be enough. The goddamn military wouldn't be enough. Gojo is...the strongest, after all.

"Stop."

Your cry freezes the room. Everything goes silent.

You hesitate, fuck, what should you do?

What can you do? No one else can suffer—no one else should suffer. Because of you.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you silently apologize to Yuko, swallowing a lump instead of looking back.

"I'll do it," you say firmly, "Just stop this and...and I'll give you your bath. Please—" The sharpest pang you've ever felt cuts through you. "—just don't hurt anyone else."

Pathetic. But necessary.

He looks into your pleading eyes with surprise, amazement even, before smiling.

The submission in your voice sounds better than anything he could ever imagine. A sweet tones that feed his already inflated ego.

Unsure of how to proceed, the guards exchange uneasy glances.

Gojo's strength is undeniable, that much is evident, and restraining him forever is simply not possible.

You know offering to give him what he wants is risky as hell...but this is your doing. Your mess to clean up.

So you squeeze your sweaty palms and give a decisive nod, signaling at the guards to let him go. They hesitate a second, then reluctantly agree, stepping back and leaving Gojo standing smugly before you.

Closing your eyes, you breathe, hating to have to look at him, but needing to stay strong. For Yuko. For yourself. And everyone else in the ward.

But Gojo's satisfied grin says it all. He's won this round.

You're ready to get the next over with.

The squeaking of your shoes has never been this loud, each echo bouncing off the empty halls and reminding you of how alone you are.

Alone—with a psychopath.

A bit more docile, doped-up psychopath but, the man could probably still rip someone's head clean off if he wanted to.

Still, Gojo despises anything that alters his body—mentally, physically, all of the above. Alcohol, medication, coffee, energy drinks—anything that threatens his need for absolute control.

But he also needed to compromise, and you refused to be alone with him again unless he took something stronger. Otherwise, it would be you, all the guards in the ward, and a pay-per-view premiere of his bath time.

He knew he had to agree because his ass is not for free, but only if you took it as well.

You blinked, hard.

You knew he would be skeptical—hell, it could be poison, and he wouldn’t blame you. But to suggest something so ridiculous?

"Half, then," he said, as if that made his suggestion any less idiotic, but, as you waited for your supervisor to dismiss the insane idea, the back and forth with Gojo actually didn't save you. And you didn't need to ask why. The entire ward shoots daggers at you any time someone walks by now.

Your supervisor reassured you that you'd be fine, the mild tranquilizer would be out of your system by the end of the day, then she patted your back as if to say, "Lay in the bed you made."

It felt unreal, holding the familiar pill between your fingers, one you were used to dishing out but now had to take.

With a quick snap, you broke it in half, holding his half out to the leering man. Gaze unwavering as he leaned forward and parted his lips, waiting. Taking a deep breath, you placed them both on your tongues, in disbelief at your reality, but Gojo's focus was elsewhere, not wasting this prime opportunity to rattle you more and taste you, closing his lips around your fingertip with a quick lick before you snatched away.

But it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the tingles shooting up your arm as you swallowed, no longer needing the water you had set aside, and a confusing mix of emotions churned as the tingles spread throughout your body.

Making good on his promise, he swallowed his own, still watching you with a knowing glint in his eyes. Like he knows what he does to you. And despite just witnessing this man's violence firsthand, you'd give anything to deny that he still has an effect on you. Hating yourself for being more concerned with the way he looked at you and the lingering sensation on your skin than the tranquilizer now coursing through your system.

The guards carefully lead you and Gojo to his private bathroom—they're more there for show than for protection, but you'll take what you can get, and they keep a firm grip on his replacement straitjacket.

You trail behind, mind buried with thoughts of what to say once you're really alone with him.

The door shuts behind you, followed by the familiar sound of a series of locks clicking shut. "We'll be right outside," one of the guards mutters, eyes shifting between you and Gojo, a stereotypical warning lacing his voice, but even he probably doesn't believe it.

"Perv," Gojo sneers and laughs, but you don't find a damn thing funny, the keys to his jacket digging into your palms as you spin around and face him, furious. What would be better? Slapping him, kicking him, or knocking his teeth out. Or should you be particularly evil and just let him sit in the shower, fully restrained and drenched in cold water and you let it rain down. None of the above will do you any good, but it'll show him exactly how done you are with his shit.

"That isn't funny. None of this is funny," it fumes out before you know you're speaking, "You've hurt someone—you hurt my friend." Your rage echos through the vast bathroom.

Gojo's laugh fades, his smug expression slipping from his face. Even you're surprised.

...oh shit.

You're actually confronting him.

The intense words burn through his usual arrogance, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable silence between you.

Then, for a fleeting second, his face does something weird.

Something you haven't seen before as his eyebrows draw together. Is that...regret?

"I'm sorry."

The record scratches. You’re fully positive you must be dreaming.

But when he doesn’t make a joke or even crack a smile, you squint at him.

The words are muttered and reluctant, but there they are, hanging in the air between you.

"It...won't happen again."

And he's serious, the same seriousness you see when his heart races as you take his vitals...but why? Because an apology? From him?? Unheard of.

Gojo has said some nasty things to you in the past that you've immediately scolded him for, but he's never apologized. He'd make a note when certain jokes didn't land, but he never took them back, preferring to cut out his own tongue than to waste his breath being sorry.

You know better than to take anything Gojo says at face value, but...what the fuck??? You almost feel offended.

He has to be joking, fucking with you to dig even deeper under your skin.

Or is he?

Fuck, you don't know how to feel.

He's so good at that, stealing the air back and hanging his words in them. Tempting you to pause and even consider if he ever truly means them. If he could mean them. The mind games are endless.

But then, the familiar cockiness returns and overshadows your doubts, twisting your stomach into knots with that familiar smile of his.

"Now," he says, strutting towards the stalls, "let's get this bath started, shall we?" And his easy, but confident steps call you to follow, a stark reminder of who you're dealing with. But he never knows when to quit. "Or should I really have to suffer for my actions?" and the bastard pouts.

Though you know he's being sarcastic and not to feed into his taunts, you can't help but wonder—what would suffering even look like for someone like Gojo?

Violence? Physical pain? A slow and agonizingly painful death?

But the guy is damn near invincible. What on earth could hurt him?

Whatever it is, it would have to be his absolute worst nightmare, but nothing comes to mind at the moment other than frustration because you have to keep making choices.

Return his energy or keep it professional? Tolerance or revenge?

"Apologizing won't cut it," you snap and gesture at his jacket, wondering how the hell he slipped out of the first one without leaving a trace. "And no tricks, or those guards will be back in here faster than you can tell another lame joke."

Smooth.

Gojo sighs sooo dramatically, like he can see straight through your kitty claws. "Fine, fine. Loosen up," he drags, "I won't cause any trouble. Just don't go getting any ideas now, Nurse." and he winks.

He's insufferable—but despite your smoldering anger, tendrils of doubt still creep in.

Your fingers slightly tremble as you begin to unfasten his straps, but each click feels a bit like victory, a fragile illusion of your 'control'—at least for now—because at the end of the day, Gojo had chosen you to listen to. And after today, he's sure you won't forget there isn't room for anyone else.

The jacket falls with a heavy thud, your eyes immediately scanning his upper body in search of any signs of injury or stress. The cascading bruises on his arms surprise you.

They feel so feeble in your hands; the evidence of him not as invincible as he seems is jarring. Pale, weak, and resting between your fingers. Devoid of the power that makes him so feared.

"Never seen bruises before," he tilts his head, "at least not on me"

You hope Yuko was at least partly responsible for the marks on the villain, but they appear self-inflicted, and he's not as mobile.

Fuck, now you'll have to bathe him too. Still, it's strange, seeing him like this. Even weirder knowing that he could still do damage in this state and you can't shake the feeling of this temporary 'truce'. If it isn't obvious by now, you've learned that Gojo always has something up his sleeve.

Warm water soothes you a bit, flowing over your fingers as it fills the large white tub—pristine, imported from somewhere far away, and standing on decorative claw feet. Your eyes wouldn't stop rolling the first time you saw it, completely annoyed with Gojo's over-the-top alterations and sense of style, but you'd be a liar if you said you never thought about sinking your body into it.

The best you could do was cope with the little porcelain tub in your apartment, and you get lost thinking about how you'd love to take a long, hot, and steamy bath when you get home—if you'll even have the energy. There's no way you'll be leaving early now, not like you deserve it, and you feel sick for even thinking about it. You doubt you'll even have a job tomorrow.

You look so defeated Gojo thinks, sauntering forward and lifting the hem of his shirt. You turn away, focusing instead on the temperature of the water, but the rustling sound of his shirt being pulled overhead and pants falling to the ground warms your cheeks.

His physique certainly isn't lacking, even in his current state, but still, you wonder how such a slim but toned frame could be so...powerful.

Could you be more obvious? Your flickering eyes are so telling, shamefully darting between him and the water, but he catches your gaze from the corner of his eye as if he's read your mind. How cute, he thinks, trying to hide away your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you toss in his loofah. "Well...go on. It's ready." But Gojo only grins, amused by your attempts to look away despite seeing his muscled frame a number of times. Relishing in the fact that he still manages to fluster you.

"Your shirt," he eyes your top, "Your pants. Looks like you've already started without me."

The water stains from earlier sit beautifully across your chest, not yet fully dry, and drawing his eyes to your semi-erect nips.

His teeth tug at his bottom lip, eyes shamelessly raking over your hefty chest. "Always such a tease, aren't you, Nurse?"

You grit your teeth, cursing the conflict swirling in your stuttering heart, fully aware of the thin line between professionalism and this game of intimacy he refuses to stop playing. Everything is always a game no matter the circumstances. And he loves to push your buttons.

"Just get in, Gojo," you order, and after what feels like an eternity, the silence is broken by the sound of splashing water as he steps into the bath.

He slowly sinks in, sighing at the warmth of the water. Ringlets of steam engulf him, almost making his silky white hair disappear with it.

His arms string over the rim of the tub, a look of relaxation resting on his face as if he's had a long, hard day. You resist the urge to slap it off.

Sudsy bubbles form from the solution you pour under the faucet, hoping to shield your eyes from his body. You've seen enough today and expect the mini-rebellious act to piss him off, but as the bubbles grow, so do his eyes. Picking up a handful, he actually starts playing with them.

"Nice touch," he adds, blowing them right into your face, and you watch with a tight lip as he decorates the bathroom with them, knowing you'll be the one to clean it all up.

He sits a crown on his head and gives himself a bubble beard, nipping your nose with some that you're quick to wipe away, and his pale eyes flutter and settle on you in a curious way.

His arms flex as he leans over the edge—steam-slicked sweat dripping down his face that he doesn't bother to wipe away. "I'm ready for my sponge bath," he says, and if it was hard to take him seriously before, it's damn near impossible now—especially with that ridiculous bubble mustache.

Sickening, him still being so playful, so unserious, at a time like this.

You know Gojo's unhinged, yeah, quote, "mentally unwell and a literal danger to society", but to nearly take someone's life and then make jokes afterward?

God, you feel so stupid, walking around him like you were the shit but with the wrong guard up the whole time, playing right into his hands and accidentally rewarding this grown-ass man who likes to play with suds.

The reality of your circumstances replays in your head, the story of how you ended up here, coddling this monster, and you're still confused as hell as to why it had to be you.

Then again, this is what you signed up for...right? To heal. To help those who can't help themselves. To offer redemption some sort of redemption no matter how sick and twisted the person in need is.

With your loofah in hand, you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the 400th time today and keep your morals in mind. "Keep talking like that and I'll stop, Gojo," you say, reluctantly drenching the tool in soap before proceeding to do your job.

Gently washing his back, he sinks into your touch, closing his eyes and letting his body completely rest on the cool cast iron, breathing. Feeling like he's won no matter what you say because your scrubs feel like magic.

Across his arms and over his broad shoulders, you work your way down, bubbles glistening in your trail as you're careful not to miss a single inch of skin but don't linger too long.

Every now and then, you catch glimpses of raised marks between the foam, and because you hate yourself, your brain absolutely refuses to give you a break. You have to give kudos to his dedication to his craft. The muscle definition, the scar tissue telling stories of battles won, the evidence of his past before corruption—everything it takes to be a hero.

It's unsettling, yet fascinating, the polarity between his beauty and his monstrous deeds.

You've never really noticed because this level of care is another first for you. Usually, Gojo just hops into the shower and takes care of himself while you wait outside—easy and thorough but always taking his sweet time, all while loudly singing some annoying song that inevitably ends up stuck in your head.

But after today, it'll be impossible to trust him or you again, and the hushed whispers as the guards walked you both to the restrooms made that abundantly clear.

The pitiful thoughts seep into the way you hesitantly clean him, moving down to his chest and abs while making sure to avoid more sensitive areas, but the malicious glint in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Whatsamatter, Nurse?" Gojo taunts, feeling you slow around his stomach, "Afraid of gettin' too close?" And you can't believe you're praying for a speedy recovery for this monster so he can handle this himself again.

You ignore his comment and try to get this over with as quickly as possible, feeling humiliated enough as it is and he can sense it, mocking you with a laugh.

"You're so uptight. Can't you just relax and enjoy the view?"

God, please make him shut up, begging for relief so you won't scrub his cocky brow right off his face. "Just doing my job," you mutter, twice squeezing the loofah that feels a little funny in your hand as the soapy water rinses his chest.

It feels heavenly on his skin, but the subtle change in your movements makes his brows furrow. Slowing, more deliberate, heavy as if you're wading through molasses. You keep adjusting your grip but the material feels so strange—the texture almost too soft like it could melt into your palm.

Your breath catches when you brush his skin, not realizing how close your fingers drifted to the edge of the sponge, and though it was only a second, it sends an unexpected jolt through his chest.

The muscle relaxers. How could you have already forgotten, you both think.

But Gojo, ever observant, doesn't miss a thing.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. "Feeling a little funny, Nurse?" His velvet voice teases.

"I'm fine," you lie, though you couldn't be less certain as the muscles in your hands start to relax more than you intended, the sponge gliding over his abs, and down his sides, the rhythm almost hypnotic and making his head fall back. You try to push through the haze, to finish quickly and be free of him, but you're losing the battle against numbness and heightened awareness.

And fuck, he has to bite his lip at your touch that suddenly feels so intense, a sensation too good to keep to himself, and one that you obviously need to stop being such a tight-ass.

You need to loosen up in a way that medicine can't help. And Gojo knows just the trick.

He licks his lips, tongue curling over his canine before splashing a wave of water on you in one swoop.

Saying you gasp is an understatement as the steamy wash drenches your face and front once again, setting a new record as you're hit not once, but twice in a day. The loofah slips from your hand as you instinctively reach up to shield yourself, but Gojo is quicker, wrapping his hands around your wrists and holding you in place.

A scream is ready to surge from your body when Gojo maneuvers both of your wrists into one hand, placing a finger to your lips.

"Ssssh ssh ssh ssh ssh," he hushes, his voice a little too calm, "I'm not going to hurt you." A lone droplet hangs from your eyelash and he swipes it. "I just want you to listen."

You freeze, your nerves on fire as you're forced into close proximity with him for the second time today, inches away from his face that gradually softens.

Though you can easily call for help, you know better than to argue—he knows you know better too but he never felt threatened in the first place. Besides, he can feel your breathing slowing, the effects of the pill combined with his firm hold sending a faint buzz from your wrists to your stomach, and his finger remains on your lips as he brings his closer.

His eyes flicker to your bottom lip. "You're so good at your job, Nurse," smoothly pulling it with his thumb. "That's why I like you. You're thorough but real. Just what I need to keep me sane."

Sane?

"Sane," he repeats like he's heard your thoughts. "Believe it or not, you keep me grounded...like a good boy. Be proud, not a single soul here or anywhere else can compare to me, let alone deal with me, and yet...here you are." He looks at you like you're a marvel. "You can handle that...can't you?"

Words fail you. This feels rhetorical. Why does he keep torturing you like this? What is it about you?

You haven't really thought about it since your first few weeks with him but now he's forcing you to think about the little 'power' he's given you that he can easily snatch back.

What happens if he decides to go further than flirting?

You can't handle it, any of this.

Hesitating, you're unsure of what to say but know it could never be the truth.

Gojo must sense it because he leans closer, his breath warm on your cheek.

"If you leave, I just might crack completely, beauty." A breath you didn't realize you were holding slips. "How do you think everyone else will do against me then, hmm?" Gojo knows he's a prodigy, but still manages to surprise himself sometimes, his eyes lingering over the spots on your uniform soaked through just enough to make the fabric cling—perfect aim.

Ice shoots up your spine from the heat of his unadulterated gaze, but you refuse to let him see you falter, and he can almost feel a prick from the daggers in your eyes.

"Oh, don't be like that," he purrs, thumbs grazing your wrists in a mockingly gentle touch. "We all have our boundaries, right? I thought communication was key in a relationship."

"Let go of me," you find your voice, "We're done here."

His head slightly tilts.

Look at you calling the shots, he thinks. So strong, so very serious.

"God, I can't help it," he breathes, "You're so fun to mess with."

He could laugh in your face, have his way with you, and show you that your resistance means nothing, but instead, he slowly releases your wrists and lies back against the tub. "I know you think about it—there's nothing wrong with a little fun...right?" and though the connection is severed, you don't know if it's the drugs or just him that makes his amplified touch linger as you sheepishly rub your wrists.

Gojo watches you blush red—thoughts you didn't know lived within you rushing to the forefront as if he's pushed a button.

Grimy, raw, unwanted thoughts of forbidden fruit, wandering hands, and stolen touches in the dark, wondering what his idea of "fun" is like under the sheets. With a psycho named Gojo.

You feel like you should throw up in disgust but the nausea never comes, burning hot between your legs instead.

Fuck, you have to get out of here.

You draw a breath, forcing away the torturous daydreams and quickly finish his bath.

"You should rest," you firmly say and pull the plug to let the tub drain. "And don't expect any more favors from me."

He sits up slow, his expression stone-cold as he slicks back his wet hair. Then he smiles. "I promise. Now dry me off?" he quips.

You ignore his request, swiftly handing him a towel before he can flash you. With a gruff, you lower to your knees, beginning to dry the floor of his messes and hoping to distract yourself from your questionable sanity.

The sounds of rustling fabric fill the chamber as he dries off, and once you figure it's safe, you look up to find a nude Gojo. Dripping with bubbles, hair plastered to his derpy face, and toned muscles, all the muscles, presenting themselves in all their glory.

The only things dry are his damn hands.

He throws the towel over his shoulder, sauntering towards you with a wicked grin.

"Well, aren't you gonna help me put this thing back on?" He nods at the jacket he knows is more bullshit than security. "Don't want you getting all worked up again."

The first time your brain registered that Gojo was flirting with you was on your third day as his nurse.

"Well, aren't you a breath of fresh air?" Gojo was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. It was the second time he'd noticed how sluggish you looked while tending to him, suggesting with a grin that you must be quite the party animal.

Ha. If only.

You tsked, tossing his bedsheets into the hamper, and assured him that your sleepy eyes and dragging feet were the result of long hours and running on fumes. Having time for fun was just a dream.

"I don't get out much myself," he says, alluding to the situation he's in, wearing sarcasm like a necklace. "I love a good night in as much as anyone else but, I don't know. The stuffiness hasn't grown on me yet."

You tugged the collar of your scrubs—the air did feel a bit thick, like the room hadn't been aired out in ages and you couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been sitting in it—how he could. That alone would be enough to drive you up a wall.

Sunlight flickered in your eyes, and you raised your hand to block it, noticing the small window perched above his chair.

"Let's open this then," you said, walking over and wrestling with the ancient wood for a moment before finally pulling the creaky flap up to the ceiling.

A sliver of your midriff peeked out as you stood on your toes to reach it, but what captured Gojo's attention most was the way the sun rays washed over your face. You scrunched your nose, the breeze sending wisps of your hair to tickle it, and he imagined the feel of your strands between his fingers.

The view was beautiful, you thought, hands gripping the warm bars. Trees surrounded the vast area, stretching out as far as you could see, the pathway to civilization completely covered in dense forest from this angle.

You never realized how high up his ward was—or how long the drop was from here.

"Too bad I'm not small enough to slip through those bars." He rubbed his stomach. "But you know me, 'Mr. BigBack.'"

He joked around as he usually did, looking to trigger your defenses, but your reaction was...odd.

Not only was this the first time anyone cared to do something so simple for Gojo, but it was also the closest anyone had gotten to him without their knees buckling.

The first two days of your trial, the Director had guards posted right outside of Gojo's door, their presence a constant reminder to stay alert and maintain a safe distance from the convict. Gojo was positive the mental barrier would keep a wall between you forever.

But then, you laughed. A real laugh. Snickery and cute. Finding his joke funny instead of threatening.

It surprised him, that sound, so natural and pure without hesitation. And he wanted to hear it again and again and again. "Who knew you could bring so much light into this place?" he sighed.

Later at lunch, you sat with Yuko, having your usual midday catch-up. You never start with yours but she, like most people in the ward then, was absolutely dying to hear about how you were dealing with the villain of the century.

"He's actually not so bad...yet. Corny, but," you took a pondering breath, "He kind of thanked me today?"

She immediately scoffed and waved you off, and who could blame her?

You were an anomaly, Gojo already showed that he was capable of mercy and now he was thanking you??

Being polite was too far of a stretch to believe, you must have been mistaken. But when you gave her the deets on why he'd do such a thing, she nearly choked on her apple. "He said that??"

"Ya?" You patted her back with a concerned look.

"Watch out, Casanova," she teased, clearing her throat with a nervous laugh.

Her comment threw you off for the rest of lunch, but when you thought about it later that night while surfing for new shows, a light bulb went off.

He flirted with you.

Thinking it was just another one of those literal dry-humor jokes or simply gratitude for making his stay a little less crappy, it flew right over your head. You always feel warm inside when you help people so you didn't think too much about it.

To you, it was just a kudos. Nothing more.

But the way Gojo stands in front of you now is everything.

As bold and brash as it gets.

Fuck. Me.

And your body betrays you, sending all of the vulnerable sensations you've been fighting to suppress from your soaking chest, tingling wrists, aching thighs, and heavy breath, straight to your throbbing clit.

Air escapes you and you couldn't feel more conflicted, scrambling to grab your supplies and leave.

Enough is enough. The guards outside can restrain him and escort him back to his room for all you care. You just have to get out of there.

Away from him.

Away from temptation.

Hot, overwhelming, guilty, mentally and physically unstable temptation.

In the quiet of the hallway a level below Gojo's ward, you lean against a wall, taking deep breaths and completely disgusted with yourself.

How are you supposed to keep dealing with this, with him?

This force that keeps pushing and pushing and pushing you to the edge until there's nowhere else to go. You can only imagine the hell the nurses he didn't like went through.

Taking care of him isn't getting any easier, and now you were fucking up and making mistakes.

But you're the only one who can do this. Who must.

So suck it up. Play along, Stop thinking only of yourself. Pretend.

Pretend.

Pretend?

...

What terrifies you the most is the thought that you may not have to.

You keep your scrambled thoughts to yourself when you're called into your Director's office at the end of the day.

You tell him the same story you told Yuko and take full responsibility for what happened, blaming it on exhaustion and needing a break. Swearing to never let it happen again.

By some miracle, you get to keep your job, though your one wish to leave early ended up costing you an hour and a half of unpaid overtime, and almost a friendship.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed—images of the day, the ward, and Yuko flooding your thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside. You tell yourself that it's just the guilt talking, just anxiety gnawing at your edges.

But then there's Gojo.

The most prominent one of all.

Staring you in the face with lifeless eyes and a ghostly smile. Tugging on your moral strings like a puppet.

When you close your eyes, you can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for you, a lurker in the shadows watching and anticipating your every move. Have you become predictable? Now you're wondering if you could do something he wouldn't expect.

Leave it. Leave it. Le—

You're scrolling through your phone on a deep-diving, scouring the web for any info on your tormentor.

His past, his affiliations, anything to tell you who Gojo was, and who he is now.

But the man is an anomaly.

Not much is known about him outside of mainstream news and internet rumors.

He's just this guy that kind of popped out of nowhere in the worst way possible, conveniently on the tail of what could have been the most devastating incident in the history of Tokyo.

The media says he's a hero gone rogue but not much else. They've damned him to hell and that was that. Even the Director disclosed very little about him during your briefing and you weren't allowed access to his files or records because it's all 'confidential'.

Nothing.

The more you search, you less that comes up. Not even silly conspiracy theories that you definitely thought would be riddling Reddit. The longer you scroll, the more you find yourself beginning to question your own mind. Your interest. Sweet little buds of obsession.

Even though you hated taking it earlier, you actually need the pill now more than ever to relax as sleep eludes you and your mind wanders to imaginary scenarios as you stare at the ceiling. 

Tomorrow, you'll have to face Gojo again. And the day after that and the day after that and every day after.

In between your nearly non-existent off days, you'll have to see him and decide what face you want to put on.

Because you simply cannot walk away.

After all, he's right—no one else can handle him like you can.

extended angel's note:

when i originally decided to make this into short story, i had no plans on using a y/n perspective. it was just going to feature an OC name i’ve used in stories before, named Persephone, buuuut i decided to wanted to keep it immersive and include no physical descriptors/personality specifics bc i knew i wanted to upload it to tumblr. 

to keep it reader-friendly, yk? 

alas, Persephone has had her claws in me the entire time i’ve been editing and said with her whole chest that i couldn't just dismiss her like that chile. so i decided changed the perspective but keep her name in place of y/n. 

you won’t see it too often in the story bc it’s not super significant or said a lot in general, bUT it is relevant for a certain moment later in the story. you’ll know when you know 🤭. 

anyway, hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. and def feel free to mentally plug your name when you see it to keep yourself grounded into the story.

tag list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @kiwismoother @rune1920 @blkkizzat @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @ressyshi @startatdawn

@khenanadeche @heijihatsutori @inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk

@rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping @sims-4lifers @bratidol @rh-tg1

@hyunsuks-beanie @n1vi @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111 @supsiii

@natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko @strawberrymilkshakes-posts

@nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow @sxnkuna

@misoyuh @lupitalove @sebastianlover @gojosatorubrainrot @sleepiebunniee

@mmmidkman @theonecrackhead @thathorsegotpoobrain @iveivory @samistar

@yuuan-66 @gojoslefttoenail @soyalovestoyap @winkwonks-world @thebiggestsimpforyou 

[megameatymatt]

Die For Me - Matt Sturniolo

Toxic Fwb Stoner!Matt X Reader

Summary: Matt and Y/N are fwb ( friends with benefits), But what if Y/N wants more?

slightly proof read

WARNINGS: smut, toxic, soft!dom matt, mentions of alcohol, drugs, and weed, overthinking??? angst??

requested?: nope

word count: 801

A/N: I apologize in advance, Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! stay slutty ok bye💋

Y/n - Pink

Matt- blue

"Pull up, baby, I need you to slide for me You know how I love it when you ride on me"

9:15

You shuffle through your makeup drawer preparing for a date with a guy you met a few weeks ago. The air was filled with the scent of your perfume and the soft hum of your favourite playlist. As you apply your mascara your phone buzzes with a new message from Matt.

It read: 

"Hey Y/N can u come over I miss you"

"Chris and Nick aren't home.."

"pretty please"

You pause, your fingers hovering over the screen. You know the routine with Matt—hang out, get high,  then fuck. It’s always been straightforward, but lately, your feelings have grown more complicated. You love him in a way that goes beyond just fun and games, and it’s starting to hurt.

You text back:

"I’m actually getting ready for a date rn. I’m not sure..."

Matt’s response was fast, almost too fast:

"Please baby, we can make it quick"

"please I fucking need you"

You’ve been here before, caught between wanting to protect yourself and the irresistible urge to be near Matt. You can’t ignore the fact that you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak if you go through with this. You want more from him, but he’s always been clear about not wanting anything serious.

A sigh escapes your lips as you consider your choices. The date tonight could turn into something special, But the lure of Matt and the hope that he might feel the same way you do is hard to ignore.

With a heavy heart, you decide to respond:

"be there in 10"

"i love you"

Your stomach fills with butterflies.

You decided to take the long way to his house. The drive was like a distraction, a temporary escape from the gnawing sadness of your situation. You even tried blasting music as loud as you possibly could, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Matt. You knew you'd end up in his bed, and you weren't mad. But you felt stuck

9:45

He greets you with his usual easy smile and a warm hug, and you both slip into his bedroom. "Want a puff?" He says holding the blunt in front of you. "I'm good. I've actually been trying to quit"

He nods and turns his music down. before laying down on his bed beside you. "I missed you so much Y/N". You hated how your stomach flipped and spun every time he was near you. You turn your head and smile "I've missed you more matt." He's already buzzed, He's more giddy than usual. He still has a smile on his face while his eyes shoot from your eyes and your lips over and over again. 

"You're the prettiest girl i've ever met" He says staring into your eyes. "I love you." It's now you realize he's been drinking as well, you smell it in his breath, and there's a bottle of tequila on his nightstand. 

You hated how you loved him but before you knew it, your body flew on top of him as your lips connected. 

He quickly undresses you and pulls down your shorts. Your hands travel every inch of his body as he places hickeys down from your neck to your tits. 

"Y/N" He moans, "I need you, Fuck, you make me crazy".  "Ride me baby" And without a second thought you align his dick with your pussy and start moving.

"Fuck matt!" You squeal as Matt starts thrusting into you. Tears fall from the outer corners of your eyes as you dig your nails deep into his shoulders

"Matt" You whine "i know baby, i know. just take it f'me okay?" He moans as his fingers dig into your hips. It feels like pure ecstasy, But just like ecstasy, it's addictive. It'll be the death of you two one day, But right now it's bliss.

10:40

"I'm close Matt, so close'' You choke out. "Cum f'me baby " That's all he needed to say as you release all over his cock. He came shortly after And you collapse on his chest. 

a familiar mix of pleasure and sadness wash over you. You love these moments, the closeness and the connection, but the underlying feelings you had for him felt like a knife to the heart.

You rest your head on his shoulder as his fingers comb through your hair."You were so good for me baby" He says. His voice is deep and raspy. "i love you"

You knew you shouldn't take it seriously, it only translates to: "I love when you give in and we fuck" But it still made you smile. But instead of saying it back you try and ignore it knowing he probably didn't mean it, and he probably never will

Taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re

[scarletwinterxx]

his day - mark lee dad imagine

hellooo. here's the mark dad father's day scenario🥺 i thought about writing one before father's day but i didn't have the time then some of you requested it so i wrote it during my free time. It took a while since I was busy but it's here. I hope you like it🤍

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

part10: fool for you

part11: your day

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Having a new born baby is a new challenge every time. It doesn't really matter if you already went through this twice. The fact that you have 2 older kids to get ready for school and a new born that wakes up every hour makes it 10 times more difficult.

But of course things are made better when you have your husband with you. The two of you already have the routine down to the T, usually you take the night shift since you have to feed baby Minsu while Mark takes the morning shift to get the kids ready and drive them to school.

Mark took some time off work to be with his family. He knew it would be difficult to leave you at home with the kids, and even though his parents offered to help he politely declined them with the assurance that he can handle it.

And he did. The kids are out the door and on their way to school just in time then Minsu to wake up to feed again, usually you'd do that before going downstairs to eat breakfast and get ready for the day.

The two older kids also adjusted pretty well with the birth of their new sibling, Minjee was so excited to meet him and was fascinated to see the little human. Minjung was also so happy to meet his little brother, promising to teach him everything when he gets older.

Watching your three kids together washes all of the tiredness away. The fear and anxiety you felt when delivering your youngest all goes at the back of your mind once you see Minjung hold little Minsu in his arms. Your first baby holding your youngest.

Minjee of course couldn't wait for her turn to hold the baby, you were more worried about her adjusting but she welcomed her younger sibling just as easy. She even promised she would share her cakepops with her baby brother.

All the long nights, sleepless weeks to months and the anxiety if you're doing the right thing everyday is worth it. For them, you'd do it over and over again without a doubt.

It's not always happy days of course. Some nights are more rough than others, recently Minsu hasn't been sleeping. Doctor said he might have colic, they did say it'll go away eventually and there's really not much you can do so you try to comfort him best way you can.

Mark has that mastered. Once Minsu fusses, he's already on his feet shushing his little boy back to sleep. Singing him the softest most random lullabies. Sometimes you find him just walking around the house with Minsu in his arms, telling him the most random stories

That is exactly how you found the two of them in the living room, you don't know how long Mark has been walking in circles in your living room. You can hear him telling Minsu about the many times he and Haechan got in an agreement. Laughing quietly when you hear the familiar story of that time Haechan ran over the mailbox while driving Mark's car.

Your laugh made Mark look up from the baby in his arms and over to you, a similar fond look on his face

"What a peculiar story to tell a baby"

"It puts him to sleep" Mark tells you

"I bet, imagine your dad rambling to you for hours" you joke, watching him walk in circles around the living room

"Why don't I take him, I already showered and ate breakfast"

"Its fine, love"

"Mark honey, I love you really but right now you need a shower. You're covered in baby vomit" you point at the huge stain on his shirt, you stand up from your seat to get Minsu from him

"I got this, you go get ready" you kiss him on the cheek, playfully pushing him towards the stairs

You take this time to get the surprise ready. It's father's day today and even though you agreed not to do anything grand since you just gave birth a month ago, you still wanted to do something for him.

When you're sure Minsu is asleep. You put him down on the baby rocker you have in the living room while you get the cake and flowers you secretly ordered.

It's still quiet in your bedroom upstairs so you assume Mark is still in the shower. You get your present for Mark and set it on the table also then you wait.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps down the stairs then Mark emerges with a towel in hand. "Hey can you dry wait woah what's this" he asks, a big smile forming on his face

"Happy Father's Day, my love"

"This is woah when did you do this, are these for me?" He takes the flowers to take a closer look

"Yep, I saw somewhere say men only receive flowers on their funeral and that made me so sad then i thought i never gave you flowers then i got sadder so i got you some"

He smiles at you, putting the flowers down so he could give you a big hug

"You're so cute, it's okay though. You gave me everything and more than I could ever ask for, just look at that" he juts his chin over Minsu who's still sleeping "How can I ever ask for more when I have all"

"You're cheesy"

"You love me"

"That I do. This life we have, I hope this isn't the only one. If there's a life after this, let's meet again okay?"

He looks right at you, listening to your words like he's hearing your wedding vows again. Then he leans down to capture your lips in his, like every kiss with you is the first.

"I'll love you in this one, and in all the other lives I'll live. I'm so so happy, there's really nothing else in this world I'd want more"

You kiss him again, smiling against his lips and hugging him tighter. The two of you only broke apart when you hear your baby cry

"Oh that's the hungry cry, you got it?" Mark says as he picks up Minsu and pass him over to you.

"Minjung gave me a little spiderman lego thing, I'll show it to you I forgot. Then he hugged me and said thank you for being a cool dad even though I don't know how to cook"

You let out a chuckle, imagining your boy saying it to his dad. "That's why I'm teaching him so one day his own kid can say he's a great cook" you joke

"Hey!"

"What about Jee?"

"She made me a card, I swear she used all the glitter she had. I love it, I really do. I also think I would never get rid of the glitter in my office so we might need to move"

While he's talking, you can see the fond look on his face as he talks about his children. You know how much Mark loves you, there isn't a day in your entire relationship that he forgot to tell you that.

But you know deep in you there's no one on this Earth he loves more than his kids, he'd do anything and everything for them.

And you love him so much for that.

[stopisa]

aki hayakawa nšfw alphabet

a/n: omg hello everyone, it’s been a minute. i am back in school yet again so my schedule is a little funky but i hope to be able to create more! also i tried to keep this as gn as possible so lmk if i didn’t! this is for my aki enjoyers <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

whether you're a one-night stand or a long-term partner, aki rolls it out with the aftercare. of course, it'll differ depending on what you mean to him but he's going to do the bare minimum and some. always cleans you up with a towel, offers you something to drink, and asks how you felt. after the small talk, he might excuse himself to go smoke outside on his balcony, if you're close he will invite you to accompany him, if you're not then he won't say anything

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

aki never really liked anything about himself but he has learned to appreciate his hands, and it's largely unrelated to his job. he takes good care of himself and practices good hygiene so his hands look impeccable. he also likes the way they look when holding your waist, hands, wrists, and neck too :)

his partner's mouth is his favorite. he loves to see the way your mouth curls into a smile when you see him or the way his name sounds and the way it rolls off your tongue. he'll just find himself staring at your mouth while you talk, grateful that he gets to kiss it every day and night. and the way your mouth wraps around his cock is even better

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

which leads me to my next point so he loves cumming in your mouth!! it's easy to clean since you can swallow or spit it into a trash bin but there are a few times where he loves to bask in the moment of seeing the viscous fluid drip down your mouth. he'll sometimes run his thumb over your lip to coax your mouth open to push on down your tongue to watch it drip and make a mess on your chest ówò im gross

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he totally reads romance novels and their sub-genres (romantasy, dark romance etc.). and honestly, he gets off to them as well since sometimes they’re written better than any of the other pornography he’s consumed which isn’t much if we’re being honest

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

im gonna say he’s has about 5 bodies under his belt, 2 of which were past relationships and 3 of them being a one night stands. that being said, he does know what he’s doing. he pays attention to details and he knows that every person is different when it comes to their needs.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doesn’t really have fave, as long as you get off then he gets off. buuuuuut if ya’ll on the bed, he’ll pull you to the edge of it, wrapping your legs around his waist. he wants to see your face and stick he thumb in your mouth while he’s at it

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

can’t see him being goofy, sex is either necessity or intimacy so he’ll treat it seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

like i said earlier, he has good hygiene so grooming is just part of his daily/weekly routine. his body hair is whispy and thin, pretty nonexistent. it’s the same color as his head hair, slightly darker and coarser. but again he keeps it trimmed to clean shaven :o

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very romantic with his partner, will invite you over, clean the whole apartment, present a home cooked meal, leave small touches on your arms or thigh while exchanging small talk on the couch and then when he takes it to the bedroom it’s still the same romantic aki. communicating what you want, if you’re okay, talking you through your orgasm. it’s wonderful really

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he’s a man, but will limit it to about 2-3 times a week if he’s single. if he has a partner rarely does he ever unless you’re away for a long time. he likes to watch twt porn, he just likes the amateur filming and the realness of it all. no acting, no special lighting. just sex as it is. or he whips out the filthy romance novel ;)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

idgaf he has a praise kink. tell him he’s a “good boy” and let him know how he feels. he also loves giving praise “yeah sweetheart, that’s right. you’re doing so good for me.”

he also likes light bondage, it’s not the grand thing but if you whip out some handcuffs or some rope he’ll melt. there’s also def been a time where he’s removed his tie, told you to get on the bed and tied your wrists together with it, no doubt this has happened c:

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

home. that doesn’t necessarily mean just the bedroom. he’s not a huge risk taker and he’s a relatively reserved person so he does believe sex should be a private thing in a private place. but any surface at home is fair game. his bed? of course. in the shower? yes please. kitchen counter? he’s getting dinner and a show.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

it’s gonna sound basic buts he’s such a slut for domestic shit. when his stress level is down is when he is the most horny and that’s being at home. you two could be cleaning, him vacuuming and you hanging up laundry and bro is bricked up and ready to go.

words of affirmation from his partner make him swoon. you could be congratulating on a achievement, “wow aki, i’m so proud of you! you’re incredible!” and all of a sudden, he’s pitching a tent

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that means physically hurting someone. the toughest he’ll get is bondage and that’s it. if he sees that he’s hurting you then he’s done. if you ask him to hurt he’ll also politely turn it down because no. also anything that super messy (food play, watersports, etc.) he doesn’t want to have to think about extra clean up after busting a nut.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

both bothboth omfg pls?? oral fixation??? um yes. giving you head is a must in foreplay before anything else happens. and he doesn’t just use his tongue but his hands as well, running them up and down your body. from your chest, down to your waist and hips, finally gripping your thighs to hold you in place.

and he is just as grateful when he’s receiving head. if you have long hair, he will hold it up for you and stroke your cheek and jaw with his other hand as you guide your mouth up and down his cock. he’s in genuine bliss <3

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

because he’s always feeling romantical let him take his time with slow thrusts. if you want him to go faster, he’ll listen but his default is slow and deep. he wants to make the euphoria last for himself and for his partner.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

nah, quickie usually means he very little time and he’ll be damned if he’s rushing somewhere or shows up late. he has to maintain his cool as a cucumber personality, duh. dude likes to take his time, it’s way better that way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

aside from his strict “no’s” he’s open to see what makes you feel good and even explore for himself.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

not long! sorry guys, he’s a single mom with 2 kids, they wear him tf out. this is why he likes to take his time with foreplay and going slow with his thrusts. after one round he usually is sweaty, feels gross and needs a nicotine break. but if you’re still not satisfied u can fuck yourself on his fingers if you’d like after he smokes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

and yes, because he can’t go multiple rounds toys can help with that. if it’s not his fingers you want then he can pull out your favorite vibrator-dildo and use it one you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

sometimes! if you’ve been annoying him or you’re having some post-fight make-up sex he’ll tease you. “hah, m’gonna fuck you the way i wanna fuck you, but if you beg enough maybe i’ll change my mind.” aside from that he’s very fair and will always make sure you’re satisfied.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

medium volume, he goes from heavy breathing through his nose to audible moans and huffs through his mouth as he gets get close. is the type to moan into ur neck whilst kissing it :>

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he has to travel often due to his job which means time apart from you :( but modern technology solves that with phone sex! he was feeling lonely and a buy aroused one night while away from home and you suggested it. at first he was apprehensive but he LOVED it after the first time. hearing your breathy moans over the phone kept him going until his assignment ended and he was able to deliver all the things he promised over the phone

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

aki lowkey packing some schmeat >:) 7 inches with just the right amount of girth. curve straight up for sure a grower not a shower. balls are average hehe 8==D

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

when it’s right after a period of time (2+ weeks) of stress and no sex, that is when is the horniest and pretty much wanting to have sex every night for a week to make up for all the lost time. outside of that exception he has a healthy sex drive

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

with his partner, he will fall asleep pretty quickly after sex + smoke break + aftercare routine. he has to trust the person and feel comfortable around them if he’s the one falling asleep first. if it’s a one night stand he will have a hard time falling asleep and probably order the person cab after all is taken care of so he can relax.

-

networks: @houseofsolisoccasum @interstellar-inn

divider by: @/cafekitsune

<3

[fafnir19]

Cloak of Night, Heart in Fight

Liam stood his ground, his scrawny frame tense with reluctance. "I'm not going to some party with a bunch of obnoxious frat guys. And I don't have a costume anyway." He knew his argument was weak, but he had hoped it would be enough to deter Karen. Karen, her green eyes sparkling with excitement, shot back, "My sister Sandy has a whole collection of costumes, enough to outfit an army of partygoers. And her parties are legendary! Come on, it'll be fun." Her voice carried a hint of pleading, and Liam could sense her desire to break free from their usual routine. With a heavy sigh, he relented, knowing he couldn't resist her enthusiasm forever. "Fine, but I'm not dressing up as some ridiculous superhero or muscle-bound warrior."

Liam stood before Sandy's extensive costume collection, feeling a sense of dread as he donned a hobbit costume.

It was a simple outfit, complete with a brown robe and oversized hairy feet, but it did little to hide his lanky frame and nervous demeanor. "I don't know, Sandy. I've never been big on dressing up," he mumbled, adjusting the fake hairy feet. "Maybe I should just skip the party." Sandy, a bubbly contrast to Liam's anxiety, rolled her eyes. "That's the point, Liam! You haven't even tried. Hobbit is just you, all cute and shy. Now, imagine something completely different. What's the opposite of Liam?" "Well, I'm not exactly the life of the party," Liam admitted, his voice trailing off. "I'm not... handsome or charming, and I definitely can't seduce anyone." Sandy burst into laughter, silencing him with a wave of her hand. "Alright, I get it! You need something dramatic. How about a vampire?" She reached into the rack and pulled out a sleek black cloak with a dramatic purple lining. Liam took the cloak, his fingers brushing the soft fabric. As he slipped it over his jeans and t-shirt, a tingling sensation coursed through his body. He glanced in the mirror, his eyes widening at the reflection. The nerdy, bespectacled Liam was gone, replaced by a tall, handsome young man with intense eyes and a jawline that could cut glass. His body had transformed, revealing lean muscles and a confident stance.

"What... what's happening?" Liam's voice cracked, his hand reaching up to touch his new face. Sandy's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Some of my costumes have a little magic, Liam. You'll be this dashing vampire until midnight. But beware—if the costume gets wet, the spell won't wear off." "Wet? But—" Liam's concern grew. "What if someone spills a drink on me? Will I be stuck like this?" "Relax," Sandy reassured him. “You’d have to be completely soaked for at least five minutes. Just avoid the pool, and you’ll be fine!” She winked. “Yeah, right,” he muttered, still processing the transformation. But as the party started, he felt a rush of excitement.

The music thumped through the walls of Sandy's house, a pulsing beat that drew a crowd of students, laughter spilling out into the cool Halloween night. Liam stood in the corner, his vampire cloak swirling around him, still adjusting to the feeling of being…different. “Hey, Liam!” Karen called out, her green eyes sparkling with excitement as she pushed through the throng of partygoers.

She stepped up to him, “You really got out of your shell!” Liam shrugged, a grin creeping onto his face. “Yeah, I guess it’s alright,” he replied, his voice almost drowned out by the music. He glanced around, feeling the new confidence surging through him. “But I’m not sure this is me, you know?” “Why not? You look amazing!” Karen took his hands, squeezing them, her excitement palpable. Liam turned to her, a playful smirk on his face. “Thanks! I guess this whole vampire thing suits me,” he said, his voice smooth and confident, the words flowing effortlessly. He hadn’t realized how easy it was to talk to people now. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be a heartthrob like this?” He flashed a charming smile, one he’d never dared use before. Karen’s smile faltered for a moment. “Just don’t forget who you really are,” she said, concern lacing her tone. “You’ve changed, and I don’t want you to lose yourself in all this.” “Changed? Come on, Karen,” Liam laughed, a sound that drew attention. “This is who I was meant to be! I feel…alive!” He gave her a wink, reveling in the way her cheeks flushed. But Karen frowned, her brows knitting together. “Liam, you’re not being yourself. You’re acting different.” “Different? Maybe I like it,” he said, his tone sharper than intended. “What’s wrong with wanting to enjoy life?” “Enjoying life shouldn’t mean forgetting who you are,” she pressed, her voice rising slightly. “You’re scaring me. I don’t even recognize you anymore.” “Maybe you just don’t like who I’ve become,” he shot back, irritation bubbling beneath his charming exterior. He could feel the pulse of the music in his veins, urging him to let loose. “Liam…” she started, but he waved her off, turning back to the crowd.

He felt a rush of adrenaline as he began chatting with a group of girls nearby, their laughter ringing out like music. Karen stood frozen, watching him with a mix of pride and worry. As Liam chatted animatedly, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was losing him. The life of the party, he was charming everyone effortlessly, and she felt like a ghost in her own boyfriend’s life.

She hadn’t meant to start a fight; she just wanted to keep him grounded. After a moment, she took a deep breath and decided to find him. “Liam!” she called, weaving through the throngs of partygoers. “Liam, where are you?” Navigating through the sea of costumed guests, she finally located him in the bathroom, an unusual place to find someone at a party. Liam stood in the bathtub, the shower cascading water around him, his black vampire cloak clinging to his, now chiseled and handsome, body.

“How long have you been wet?” she exclaimed, her voice rising in panic. “Hurry up to dry yourself up, otherwise you’ll stay like that for good!” Liam chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s too late already. I’ll stay this way, whether you like it or not!” Karen's heart sank. "But...but you're still Liam. Underneath all this, you're the same person. I...I love you, and it doesn't matter what you look like." Liam stepped out of the shower, the water instantly ceasing as if by magic. He stood tall, his body dry and handsome.

"I am, and I'm not. I've always been more than just a bookish guy, Karen. This costume just helped me unlock my true self." Karen's eyes filled with tears. "I know, and I wanted you to be more confident. But I didn't mean for you to become someone else. Please, don't let this change who you are inside." Liam's expression softened, and he pulled Karen into an embrace. "I won't. I love you, Karen, and I always will. This is just an upgrade, a chance to live life to the fullest." He kissed her gently, his lips warm against hers. Karen's worries momentarily faded as she kissed him back, her heart fluttering.

Just then, a group of frat guys stormed the dance floor, each wearing a black cloak similar to Liam's.

Karen's face twisted in disgust. "Ugh, look at these guys. Why does Sandy even invite them?" Liam snorted, his newfound charm on full display. "Yeah, they're a bunch of peacocks. Who do they think they are, strutting around like they own the place?"

One of the frat guys, his voice booming, announced, ""Hey, man! Loving the cloak. Check out our new recruit, Liam! He's one of us now!"

Liam, taken aback, tried to protest, but his words faltered. "I... I mean, I..." The frat guy slapped him on the back, nearly knocking him off balance. "No need to be shy, bro! We're here to have a good time. And with your new look, the ladies will be all over you!" Liam hesitated, his eyes darting between Karen and the frat brother. "I... uh... I'm not sure about that, bro." The frat guy slapped him on the back. "Come on, man! Let's find you some hot chicks. You can't stay with that nerdy owl forever!" Liam's resistance crumbled as he found himself drawn to their infectious energy. "I... I guess I could use a change." Karen's eyes widened in disbelief. "Liam, no! You can't be serious!" But it was too late. Liam, caught up in the moment, laughed along with the frat guys. "Maybe I'll find a hot nurse. You know, the dumb ones are good for a bit of fun!" Karen's heart sank as she watched her boyfriend disappear into the crowd, surrounded by the very people she despised.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see her sister Sandy, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Looks like your boyfriend's found a new crowd," Sandy said, her tone laced with amusement. Karen's voice quivered with emotion. "Sandy, this is all your doing! He's become one of them, a brainless frat boy, and he dumped me!" Sandy's laughter echoed through the room, drawing attention. "Oh, Karen, he's still the same intelligent Liam, just with a new, improved look. Can't blame him for wanting to explore his options now that he's a heartthrob." Karen's face flushed with anger. " Improved? He's insufferable! I want my Liam back! The one who cared about me and wasn't a superficial jerk!" Sandy's expression turned serious. "Well, I couldn't stand the old Liam, always moping around. But this new version? He's a catch! Too bad he's out of your league now." Sandy winked, her tone playful yet cruel. "Maybe I'll try my luck with him." Karen's eyes narrowed. "He's not out of my league. I'll get him back, you'll see." Determined, she marched over to the costume rack, her mind racing. She needed to find a way to remind Liam of who he truly was, and perhaps, just perhaps, he would come back to her. Her fingers grazed over the costumes, and she pulled out a nurse's uniform, complete with a short skirt and low-cut top. It was a far cry from her usual attire, but desperate times called for desperate measures. As she slipped into the costume, a strange sensation washed over her. The transformation was more than physical; she felt her mind cloud, her thoughts becoming simpler, more basic. Karen's eyes widened in the mirror, her once sharp gaze now soft and vacant. She had become the epitome of a dumb blonde, a nurse who cared more about her looks than her patients.

"Hey there, gorgeous." A frat guy, his face painted like a skeleton, appeared beside her. "Looking for someone?" Karen blinked, her new personality taking over. "Yeah, I'm looking for Liam. He's, like, my boyfriend, you know?" The frat guy winked, his grin mischievous. "Oh, I know Liam. I'll take you to him. He's gonna love this." Karen followed, her hips swaying in a way she never thought possible. The frat guy led her upstairs, away from the party, and into a dimly lit bedroom. "He's in here, waiting for you," he said, his voice low and suggestive. But as Karen stepped into the room, she realized something was amiss. There was no Liam, just the frat guy, his painted grin now sinister. "You won't be needing Liam tonight," he purred, closing the door behind her.

Karen's protests were weak, her newfound stupidity making it hard to resist. The night blurred, and she gave in to the frat guy's advances, her inhibitions gone.

The morning sun streamed through the window, and Karen woke with a start. She was back in her own clothes, her nurse's costume discarded. Her head throbbed, and her memories of the previous night were hazy. She had a vague recollection of the frat boy's face, his hands on her body, and the sound of his laughter. "Oh no," she whispered, her hand resting on her flat stomach. She remembered the feeling of his body against hers and the realization hit her—she was pregnant. But with which frat boy? She couldn't even remember his name. She had to find Liam, tell him everything, and hope he'd stand by her. On campus, Karen spotted Liam surrounded by his new fraternity brothers. Their laughter rang out, a stark contrast to Liam's former self. She approached with trepidation, her heart pounding. "Liam, I need to talk to you." The group fell silent as Liam turned, his once gentle eyes now cold. "What do you want, Karen?" His voice was laced with annoyance. "I... I'm pregnant." The words tumbled out, and Karen's eyes filled with tears. "It happened last night. I don't know who the father is, but I wanted you to know. I love you, and I want us to stand this together." Liam's face twisted in disgust. "What? Fuck off, slut. Don't try to pin some frat boy's bastard on me. Get out of my sight!"

His new friends roared with laughter, and Karen felt her heart shatter. She stood there, stunned, as the realization hit her. This wasn't just about the costume; it was about who Liam truly was. The old Liam, the one she thought she knew, would never have reacted this way. But perhaps he had always been hiding behind his nerdy exterior, and the costume had simply unveiled his true self. As Karen walked away, she knew her life had changed forever. The baby growing inside her was a constant reminder of that fateful Halloween night. She couldn't help but wonder if she had ever truly known Liam at all.

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 11: Naptime

Y'all had your fun, now it's back to business. This goes from 0 to 100 real fast so please pay attention to the content warning, also adding a read more just in case.

Word count: 956

Content warning: mentions of blood, injury, child death, reader descresion is advised

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It's naptime, and you're not asleep.

Oh, how you would be if you could. How you so desperately wish that you could. You stand no chance at reaching the light switch. No chance at saving the day. The only thing you can do is sit crowded in a hidden corner of the play structure with the few kids you could grab. Like a coward. Arms tightly around them to try and shield them as best you can from the danger lurking outside. 

You think, hope, pray, that some of them are actually asleep out there. That they didn't get woken up by the screams of the children who happened to wake up. The others though, god the others, you can't, you won't-these kids need you. Need you to be brave, need you to protect them. You don't think you can.

One of them makes a small whimper, you near silently shush her, pulling her more into your chest so if she sobs, it'll be muffled. She clings to you tightly, and you suppress a wince. The wound across your chest thankfully isn't deep, but it hurt, and you had no way to stop the bleeding currently. 

You had felt your entire world shut down at that moment. Witness everything come plummeting down so suddenly. Instead of not being able to look away from a car crash, you were experiencing the crash. And it hurt.

You blame yourself, even if someone else would argue it's not your fault. You didn't know. Hell, you don't think even Sun knew. Is he even okay? Is he gone too? Not until it happened. Not until you turned off the lights. 

"Alright," You turn, watching as Moon appears, "Everybody's down for the count, they're pretty exhausted from freeze tag so we should have an easy go of it. In the meantime, I found my copy of The Princess Bride, I say we find a good vantage point and get a couple chapters in. What do you say to that?"

No response. He just stares at you. 

This has been happening sometimes lately, you think it may just be a delay in the switch. You know he's been self-conscious about it, so you try to make light of it. 

You make a radio noise with your mouth, "Cht. Earth to Moon-man. This is mission control, requesting cuddles and story-time while on the job. Do you copy?"

Something clicks. 

"Ye-yes, yes, let's... do that," He shakes his head, seeming, groggy. 

You giggle quietly, "Are you sure you don't need a nap, sleepy head?"

It takes another second, you swear you see his optics flash another color before he shakes his head again, chuckling. 

"Not at all," He offers his hand to you, "Shall we?"

You grin to yourself, doing your best to contain your excitement. You've been waiting for ages to get into this book with him. Not to mention spending unrestricted one-on-one time.

You take it, feeling a rush once the two of you start flying through the air. 

From there, things are good. Great even. You and Moon are able to get through the prologue and first chapter or so. The problem arises when suddenly, the power goes out to the rest of the Plex. 

You look up, instinctively putting a hand on the arm Moon has around you, "What's going on?"

"I'm, not sure."

The sudden lack of noise rouses one of the kids, he sits up, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. 

"Ah, shoot, Morgan's up. Here, help me down and I'll-" You're suddenly cold as Moon abruptly stands up, jumping down from the play structure without a word.

Confused, you follow after him, taking a nearby slide.

You walk over to where he towers over the boy-not his usual routine for these things that should have been your first clue-and get there in time to overhear;

"It's past your bedtime."

That's, not his usual voice. Well, it is. But there's something off about it.

Morgan notices too, he looks a bit frightened by the gravely sound. 

Moon's faceplate tilts to the side, "Naughty children must be punished."

It's then that you think to look down to his hand where, when did he get claws. Why would Moon ever need claws, that kind of upgrade is only for Monty or Freddy-

He's raising his hand, Morgan is cowering. You need to move.

Without thinking, you dash in between the two, arms out wide to shield the child behind you. 

Moon hesitates, stuttering, glitching, but his hands slices across your chest all the same. 

Morgan screams, you hiss at the pain. Moon suddenly disappears into the dark above the Daycare. And kids start to wake up.

Everything from there is a blur. You remembering panicking, trying to calm down crying kids. your chest being on fire, and then everything suddenly getting ten times worse.

You still don't know what's going on out there. Out in the rest of the Plex. You don't know why no one has come to check on you all, come to save you, nobody's going to save you, just done something. But you have no way of reaching out. No way of getting out of here either. For now, you have to survive. You have to. You have to try.

You become aware of someone looking at you before you actually see the light crawl across the floor before landing on you and the backs of the kids.

Your grip becomes firmer, face more determined, as the sound of bells gets closer and closer. You take a deep breath, and steel your gaze to look at him. 

Red eyes face yours on the other side of the plastic cage.

It's naptime. And you're not asleep.

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Wow man, I was uh, yeah I don't know where this came from. Oof. Angst AND horror. My b guys. ANYWHO Three promptobers in a day, my writing brain is BACK baby (it has been gone for several weeks bc of sinusitis, but I'll talk about that more in the CS ch. 35 update) The other promptobers I've done are here if you haven't seen them already. The previous ones haven’t been as intense horror-wise as this so if you're looking for something a little chiller I would suggest giving them a try. Thanks for reading!

[sissyisawitch]

Christmas at Home

Part 2 of I'll Be Home For Christmas (link)

Relationship: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Ten years later, MC has a home, a family, and a husband. What does a traditional Christmas look like for her now?

Word Count: ~6.4k

Warnings: Tooth rotting Christmas fluff 🎅🎄

Author's Note: Requested by @mochiglow . Plus I wanted to write one last Christmas story before the end of the year (yes, once again, I had to rush to get the story out in time). As always, I hope you'll enjoy it! And I wish you lots of love for the year ahead💕

The room was shrouded in the soft glow of dawn, and MC found herself caught in the liminal space between sleep and wakefulness. Tossing and turning, her mind danced on the edge of dreams and reality, a swirl of thoughts and anxieties tugging at her subconscious. The weight of the night seemed to lift when, in that vulnerable moment, she inhaled a familiar scent that wrapped around her like a comforting embrace—Sebastian’s scent.

MC's senses gradually anchored to the reassuring fragrance that enveloped her. With a sigh, she opened her eyes to be met with her husband's naked torso. She had been waking up to the same sight for ten years to the day, ever since that memorable Christmas when they had met by sheer happenstance, and ended up confessing their feelings for each other. After leaving Anne and Ominis's house after dinner, MC had gone back to sleep at Sebastian's house in Hogsmeade, and that time, they had slept together in the same bed. From that day on, the two lovebirds had never left each other's side. MC had immediately moved in with Sebastian, having nowhere else to go after leading a nomadic and adventurous life. Sebastian had supported her every step of the way, helping her to find a job and to buy more possessions than what was in her suitcase (because she did in fact travel light).

In short, Sebastian had been the most incredible boyfriend, the most loving and patient partner, as well as the most reliable and unconditional support.

Thank Merlin he had been there to help MC get used to her new life of routine, because it had not been easy every day. Still, she was grateful to have overcome all these trials and tribulations, and especially to have done so alongside Sebastian, because it had brought her to the present moment. For ten years, she had had the privilege of waking up surrounded by the strong arms of the man she cherished more than anything else in the world, and witnessing the marks of time embedding into him: how his beard was fuller than before, how the patch of hair on his chest had widened and darkened, how his shoulders had broadened. But if there was one thing that remained unchanged, it was how madly in love Sebastian was with MC, and how he never failed to prove it to her.

Drawing solace from the gentle rise and fall of his chest, MC shifted closer to him – if that was even possible – seeking even more contact with his warmth, which, as always, miraculously succeeded in making all her nervousness vanish.

As if attuned to her restlessness, Sebastian stirred awake and instinctively tightened his hold around her petite figure.

“You’re up early.” Sebastian said with his husky morning voice, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

“I didn't sleep very well.” MC admitted while bringing her hands up to rest on his chest.

He placed a delicate kiss to her forehead, before looking at her, his gaze tender and filled with a quiet understanding, “I know you. You're stressing about today because you want everything to be perfect.”

“That must be it, yes…” She replied absently, mindlessly tracing the freckles that adorned his collarbones.

MC was not sure how, but the whole family had decided that for the first time, the Christmas festivities would be held at MC and Sebastian's house, instead of at Anne and Ominis' in Feldcroft as in all the other years.

“You don't have to worry, you know. We're not asking you to make a big feast. Besides, whatever you prepare, I know it'll be brilliant.” Sebastian continued to try and reassure her, still flashing his radiant smile.

MC made no response. Instead, she preferred to nestle her head in the crook of his neck and place tender kisses along his skin, moving her lips as slowly as possible to fully appreciate the taste of him. Fortunately, Sebastian did not question why his wife was being particularly cuddly this morning. He simply tightened his grip on her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh through her satin nightdress, while his other hand moved down her thigh to trace invisible shapes and caress her skin.

“I love you, Sebastian.” She declared all too solemnly.

He chuckled at her confession, which came out of nowhere, but which he never tired of hearing, “I love you too, darling.”

After all these years together, Sebastian still marvelled at how the soft contours of their bodies moulded perfectly into one another, as if they had truly been made for each other down to the very last detail. Limbs entwined and hearts beating in unison, they both revelled in each other's quiet, yet soothing presence… That was until Sebastian could no longer resist his ardour.

With two fingers under her chin, he tilted MC's face until their eyes met. Without wasting a second, Sebastian claimed her plump lips, kissing her languorously, all the while taking his time, as if he were discovering her for the first time. The way he sucked and nibbled her lips with fervour made MC realise that he was hungry for more than just breakfast.

MC let out several keen moans, which fuelled Sebastian's passion. He could not stop running his hands over every inch of her body, his electric touch setting her skin on fire. Sebastian's next move would have been to roll on top of his wife to pin her to the mattress... if only he had not been stopped short by the creak of their bedroom door being opened, followed by the patter of little feet.

Sebastian let out a deep growl and fell back onto his side of the bed, while MC giggled at his reaction.

"Mummy! Daddy! Wake up, it's Christmas!" Their son, Theodore, exclaimed with uncontainable excitement, like a burst of energy dispelling the lingering tranquillity. Sebastian and MC, still wrapped in the warmth of each other, exchanged a fond smile.

Oblivious to the interrupted moment, the five-year-old clambered onto the bed with a gleeful grin, and squeezed himself between his parents, joining their intertwined embrace.

“I can't wait for Father Christmas to come! I told him I want a big dragon this year!” Their son's voice bubbled with the magic of the holiday.

MC exchanged a glance with Sebastian, amused by their son's earnest Christmas wish, "A dragon, huh?" She teased. "That's a pretty big request, Theo. Are you sure you have enough space for a dragon in your room?"

Theo’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated the logistics, "Well, maybe a baby dragon? They're smaller, right?"

Sebastian chuckled, "We'll see what Santa can do, buddy.”

“Can we send him a letter to ask him to come sooner?” Theo asked eagerly.

Sebastian ruffled his son's unruly chestnut hair – the same one as him, “Easy there, little elf. You know he only comes once the whole family is together. Otherwise, it wouldn't be fair on Aunt Anne and Uncle Ominis. They wanna see him too.”

The child pouted, understanding his father's answer, but clearly dissatisfied with it all the same.

MC took her child in her arms and stood up, "Come on, young man. Let's get out of bed, and eat breakfast first. Then we’ll get ready, and I promise you won’t see time go by."

The family descended the stairs into the living room, which was bathed in Christmas atmosphere, with the tremendous tree shining brightly, the stockings hanging on the mantelpiece, and the dining table adorned with festive decorations, ready to welcome guests for a feast.

Luckily for MC, Theo was a real glutton like his father, so it was not difficult to convince him to eat. Nevertheless, like his mother this time, he was a real chatterbox. While they were all eating, Theo could not stop talking about the potential presents he was going to get. Overwhelmed with excitement, he kept chattering away, often with his mouth full, and MC had to remind him several times that this was impolite.

After breakfast, the family retreated to their respective corners of the house to get dressed in their festive best for the special occasion. Sebastian, who had quickly put on his outfit, went to help his son put on his Christmas attire which consisted of a green tartan shirt, red trousers with braces and a matching bow tie.

Meanwhile, MC put on a little make-up and slipped on her black velvet dress which had a V-neckline bordered by lace that matched the one decorating the cuffs of its long sleeves. The bust was fitted at the waist, and the skirt was flowing but still close enough to the body to outline the graceful curves of MC's body.

Sebastian appeared suddenly, and hugged MC from behind, making her jump slightly, “You’re gorgeous as always, my love. You never fail to take my breath away.”

MC turned around to take a look at him, clad in black trousers and shirt, with only a forest green tie for a touch of colour. It was rather simple but it always seemed to do the trick to make MC weak in the knees. Especially when he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, showing off his strong forearms, with freckles scattered among the hair, and veins bulging out of his tanned skin.

She devoured him with her eyes, a smirk plastered on her lips, “Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself, you know.”

His hands started from between her shoulder blades, then travelled down her body, exploring the small of her back, the curves of her hips, until they landed on the soft pulp of her ass. He let out a throaty growl, “Merlin, I never get tired of this dress. I love the way it shows off your hips. Makes me wanna rip it right off to see the real deal underneath.”

Ashamed that he still managed to make her blush like a shy schoolgirl after so many years of marriage, MC pushed him away and turned her head to hide the scarlet tint in her cheekbones, “Keep your hands to yourself, Mister.”

“Oh, come on, you’re no fun. Let's just carry on with what we started earlier, while we can.” Sebastian whimpered as he tried to catch her.

Any protestations about having a lot on her plate and a meal to prepare, died on the tip of MC's tongue, as Sebastian snaked his hands around her waist, tracing his fingers down to her private parts. Even through her layers of clothing, his experienced touch was enough to ignite a passionate fire that warmed her core.

It would have been fun to keep going... if only they had not been interrupted by a sudden piercing scream coming from the living room.

Fear gripped both MC and Sebastian’s hearts as they raced downstairs, the staircase resounding with the loud thump of their hurried footsteps. The living room came into view, and their eyes immediately sought out their son, dreading that something had happened to him.

To their relief, he stood near the window, his face pressed against the glass, and his excitement turned the initial scream into joyful laughter, "Mummy, Daddy, look! It's snowing! It's really snowing!" He exclaimed, pointing at the delicate flakes dancing in the winter air.

Relief washed over MC and Sebastian when they saw that nothing serious had happened. However, their respite was short-lived, because the next moment, Theo was throwing a tantrum to be allowed to play outside.

Unable to resist his son's demands and desires, Sebastian, bundled up in a warm winter coat, led Theo out into the garden where a pristine blanket of snow awaited. Laughter echoed through the quiet air as father and son dove into the wintry playground, crafting a snowman with gleeful enthusiasm. The garden became a canvas for their snowy adventures, a scene of joyous bonding and shared laughter.

From the cozy warmth of the kitchen, MC observed the heartwarming spectacle unfolding outside. As she chopped vegetables and tended to the simmering pots, her gaze lingered on the snowy tableau framed by the window. The sight of Sebastian and Theo engaged in a spirited snowball fight filled her with gratitude. She marvelled at the twists of fate that had brought them here, realizing that, had they not moved in this house in Marunweem, this idyllic scene might have remained an unfulfilled wish.

MC and Sebastian's Hogsmeade cottage had rapidly become too cramped when ideas of marriage and children began to blossom in their minds. So, two Christmases later, Sebastian surprised MC with the house of her dreams in the hamlet of Marunweem. That evening, after showing her around the first floor with its many bedrooms that would accommodate possible guests or their future children, the vast living room with its welcoming fireplace, and the light-filled kitchen, Sebastian took MC out into the garden to admire the remarkable view over the lake of Marunweem. And when MC turned to thank her boyfriend, he was down on one knee, asking her to have him for the rest of his life, in the middle of the garden where they got married the following summer.

MC had just finished preparing Christmas dinner, a smile playing on her lips as she soaked in the warmth of the kitchen and the beauty of the snowy tableau outside, when an unexpected wave of dizziness swept over her, leaving her momentarily disoriented. The room seemed to sway, and she felt a sudden need to sit down. Lowering herself to the kitchen floor, she steadied her breath, attempting to shake off the unsettling sensation. In the midst of her momentary weakness, the world outside the window transformed into a blurred mosaic.

Sebastian, engaged in snowy merriment with Theo, glanced back toward the house. When he no longer saw MC at the window, a subtle dismay overcame him. Instinctively, he grabbed his son in his arms and rushed back inside, his heart pounding with worry.

Finding MC on the kitchen floor, Sebastian hurried to get their son out of the room, lest he too worry about his mother and start crying.

"Go take off your coat and shoes, and stay in the living room, little lad. I'll join you right after."

"Yes, Daddy."

Once Theo had gone, Sebastian knelt beside his wife, concern etched on his face, "Darling, what happened? Are you okay?"

With a reassuring smile, MC nodded, “I'm fine, just a dizzy spell. But it's gone now.”

Obviously, her words did not get through his thick skull, and failed to reassure him, because Sebastian was still visibly worried, “Come on, hold on to me. I'll take you to rest on the sofa.”

Before she could protest, Sebastian slipped one hand under her knees, and used the other to support her back as he lifted her off the ground and carried her bridal style. In order not to fall, MC had no choice but to lean fully against his chest (not that she was complaining, since she even took the opportunity to rest her head against his shoulder and get a whiff of his strong cologne).

Sebastian then tightened his embrace around her, making sure she was safe and secure in his arms. MC was by no means surprised by how overprotective he was with her. He had always acted that way with her, even when they were mere friends at Hogwarts, so she knew that it was not after so many years that he was going to start changing.

As promised, he carried her into the living room, where their son was settled at the coffee table while drawing, and deposited her on the plush sofa with the utmost delicacy, as if she were the most fragile and valuable treasure in the world, threatening to shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest breeze, “There you go. And I don't want you to move from here. You'll only be allowed to get up and sit at the table when dinner starts.”

“Seb, I'm not made of glass.” MC tried to argue.

“No, but you're tired. You didn't sleep well last night, you shouldn't have been cooking on your feet all morning.” He replied, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and genuine care. “You should have asked me to help you, I could have prepared the meal.”

An amused scoff escaped MC, “Sure.”

“What? I’m not that bad at cooking.” Sebastian took on a false air of offence.

MC only stared at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for him to face what they both knew to be the truth.

Sebastian sighed, before letting out a light chuckle, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m a bloody menace in the kitchen.”

MC joined in his laughter, when a knock resounded at the front door, signalling the arrival of their guests. MC, instinctively moving to rise and greet them, felt Sebastian's firm hand gently but decisively press on her shoulder, urging her to stay seated.

"What did I tell you? Don’t you even dare think about standing up." He sternly ordered her. Concern etched his features as he looked into her eyes, silently pleading her to prioritise her well-being.

Sebastian then rose to answer the door. Their friends, adorned in festive attire, entered with smiles that instantly brightened the room. MC, who was still seating in the living room, could hear greetings and laughter from afar. After giving them all a hug, Sebastian directed his gaze towards his wife, giving her a knowing look. MC nodded to let him know she understood, then watched him slip away discreetly upstairs, when she was startled by a bundle of vigour hurtling towards her.

"Aunt MC!" Anne and Ominis' daughter shouted. MC had not seen her since the first of September, when she and the rest of the family had accompanied the little girl to Hogwarts for her first year there. With two Slytherin parents, and Salazar Slytherin's blood in her veins, she had been sorted into the green house with no surprises.

“Estelle, Merlin's beard! You look stunning!” MC took the little girl in her arms and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her. “Give me a twirl, so I can see your beautiful dress.”

Estelle did as she was told, showing off her knee-length blue and white windowpane dress, which had a white Claudine collar and ruffles at the bottom of the skirt.

“My, my!” MC exclaimed while admiring her niece. “All the boys at Hogwarts must be pursuing you.”

“I've got a friend. His name is Henry… I think he's cute.” The girl admitted shyly.

“Promise to tell me everything later?” MC asked, extending her pinkie finger towards her.

Estelle nodded eagerly, holding out her own little finger to seal the promise.

With that done, MC turned to her son, who had yet to notice the presence of guests, so engrossed was he in his colouring, “Theo, have you seen who's arrived?”

“Auntie and Unkie!” The boy abruptly dropped his crayons and ran towards them at full speed.

“My favourite nephew!” Anne lifted him up and took him in her arms. “Say, you've grown up again! You'll soon be taller than me!”

As for Ominis, he approached the sofa to lean over his friend, “So, MC, are we not worthy enough for you to get up and say hello to us?”

“Healer Sebastian put me on sofa rest.” She joked to play down the situation. “I had a dizzy spell earlier, and you know what he's like: always worrying about nothing.”

Before Ominis could respond, Theo climbed onto his mother's lap, “Mummy! Mummy! Now that Auntie, and Unkie, and Estelle are here, is Father Christmas coming?”

“Oh well, I reckon he won't be long now.”

On cue, another knock resounded at the door.

“Maybe that's him!”

Her lady-of-the-house reflexes took hold of MC, who was on her feet in an instant to open the door. On the other side, white-haired Father Christmas was waiting on the porch, wearing his red coat and hat trimmed with white fur.

“Theo, look who's here!” MC summoned her son.

Only the young boy’s loud gasp was heard in the room, his face lighting up with delight at the unexpected arrival of Father Christmas himself, carrying a sack full of presents, and displaying a wide smile beneath the snowy white beard.

"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" Father Christmas – or rather Sebastian transfigured into an impressively convincing version of him – exclaimed heartily. "Are there any children who are on the nice list in this house?"

Theo, eyes wide with excitement, approached Father Christmas eagerly. "Me! Father Christmas, I've been really good this year! I even ate all my vegetables!" he declared proudly.

Sebastian chuckled with a deep, jolly voice, and handed him two enormous gifts, "That's excellent, Theo! Keep up the good work, my young friend."

Wide-eyed with wonder, Theo opened his presents in record time. Inside the first was a giant stuffed Common Welsh Green dragon, and inside the second was a small broom suitable for a five-year-old, with a note saying 'Since you can't fly on your dragon'.

The cuddly toy had been MC's idea, as dragons were something Theo talked about all year round, while the broomstick had been Sebastian's idea, as he hoped his son would follow in his footsteps and join his future house's Quidditch team once he got to Hogwarts. They all watched as the young boy was thrilled by his two gifts. He smiled and laughed, unable to contain his excitement. Theo's joy was contagious.

This encouraged Sebastian to continue to distribute gifts, "Estelle, sweetie! My elves have told me nothing but good things about you this year! I've heard that your first year at Hogwarts is going wonderfully well, and that you have a particular interest in Potions. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, Father Christmas." Estelle played along for her young cousin's sake, even though she knew perfectly well that it was her uncle underneath the red and white suit.

In turn, Estelle received a large gift containing a set of cauldrons of different metals and sizes, as well as two smaller packages containing numerous ingredients, and manuals containing various potion recipes. It was the perfect apprentice potioneer's kit.

"I still don't know where she got her love of potions from. Certainly not from me." Ominis mumbled under his breath, making Anne laugh.

Father Christmas continued the merry gift-giving for the other guests, taking his role to heart and revelling in the joyous atmosphere. But Sebastian being Sebastian, he could not resist a playful aside to his wife, who was watching the festive scene unfold, "I've heard from your husband you've been a naughty girl. You didn’t stay seated like he told you."

MC took great pleasure in playing along with him, "My husband doesn't know what he's talking about. He just worries too much."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at his wife through his little round Father Christmas glasses, "Now, that's not something a good girl would say about her husband, is it?"

"I'll make it up to him tonight. I promise I'll be a really good girl." She smirked, the hint of mischief in her eyes obvious.

Even through his thick white curly beard, MC could see his Adam's apple bobbing heavily. It took Sebastian a moment to get back into character, "Will you? Well, in that case, I think Father Christmas has a special gift for you too, my dear."

With a theatrical flourish, he presented her a beautifully wrapped box. Curiosity sparkled in MC's eyes as she accepted the gift. She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a snowflake, each branch encrusted with small diamonds which sparkled brightly in the festive lights.

"I thought it would be a fitting reminder of all the magical Christmas moments we've shared together over the years." Sebastian explained in a whisper.

Touched by the thoughtful gesture, MC smiled warmly at Sebastian, "Thank you, Father Christmas. It’s perfect.”

“There's another surprise underneath to go with it.”

MC realised that the box did indeed have a false bottom. She lifted it and was surprised to find a set of arctic blue lingerie, entirely see-through apart from a lace flake to cover the most intimate areas.

She quickly closed the box to avoid anyone seeing, and shook her head, although she could not wipe the big amused grin off her face, "You're incorrigible. Now go and change yourself back before your son notices you're not here."

“Yes, ma’am.”

After explaining that he had other families to visit, Father Christmas said goodbye to everyone, especially to young Theo, who was the happiest to see him. MC claimed that she was going to see him to the door, but in fact followed him outside.

MC closed the door behind her, and stepped out into the winter cold, “Your transfiguration was extremely impressive. You're getting better at it every year.”

“I'm glad you liked it.” Sebastian smiled.

She took a step towards him and rested her hands on his chest. It was bizarre that he was so much chubbier than usual. Even if she knew it was him, it did not feel like her husband, “I didn't like it as much as my present. Thank you very much, truly.”

“If you wanna thank me, you can wear your present tonight and keep your promise.” He winked at her.

MC stood on her tiptoes and planted a tender kiss on her husband's lips, still transfigured as Father Christmas. Even though she was used to feeling his usual beard against her skin when she kissed him daily, she was still tickled by his new thick, greying moustache. But that did not make the kiss unpleasant, on the contrary. Proof of this was that they continued kissing until they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat in the doorway.

“You're lucky it was me who saw you, and not Theo. He would have been traumatised. Anyway, I came to tell you to hurry back. If you take too long, Theo will suspect something, even if he's ecstatic about his dragon.” Estelle admonished them before returning to the living room as quickly as she had come.

Sebastian was rendered speechless for a moment, “…Did you also feel like it was Ominis talking?”

“Yup, this kid's really becoming too much like her father... but she's right though.” MC took out her wand and tapped Sebastian on the shoulder with the tip. In the blink of an eye, he was back to his normal appearance and attire. “You're more handsome this way. Come on, let's get back inside.”

No sooner had they returned to the living room than Theo ran to his father and wrapped his arms around his leg.

“Daddy! Have you seen Father Christmas? He was so nice!”

“Of course, he was.” Sebastian replied with amusement at how oblivious his son was. He had been so enthralled by Father Christmas and his presents, that he had not even noticed that his father had been absent for several long minutes.

“Honey.” MC called out to him, instantly drawing his attention. “I also have a gift for you.”

She handed him a carefully wrapped package, adorned with a ribbon that matched the holiday décor, to which was attached a label with 'For the man who makes every Christmas magical' beautifully handwritten on it.

His curiosity piqued, Sebastian eagerly unwrapped the present. Revealed within a long black Auror uniform robe. He already had plenty, so he could not really understand why his wife was gifting him with another one.

“I've upgraded it with Kneazle fur and Diricawl feathers so that it has multiple Protection Charms. It also enhances the power of your spells to increase the damage you inflict on your opponents. Normally, nothing can happen to you with this!” MC announced cheerfully.

Sebastian's eyes met hers, and in that shared gaze, he recognised the depth of the sentiment behind the thoughtful gift, “Someone's worrying about me.”

“Of course I worry about you! You’re the most competent Auror there is, so they put you on all the most dangerous cases, and it's going to be even worse now that you've been promoted to Head of the Auror Office.” MC grumbled, seeming somewhat offended by Sebastian's reaction to her gift.

He hurried to take her in his arms and place a kiss on the top of her head, which seemed to be sufficient to calm her down, “I’m only teasing you, love. I love it, and I'll wear it every time I go on a mission. It’s perfect, just like you.”

The festive glow lingered as MC, Sebastian, and the rest of the family continued to revel in the warmth of the holiday spirit. The exchange of gifts had created an atmosphere of shared joy, and as the afternoon unfolded, they transitioned to the dining table, where an array of delectable dishes prepared by MC awaited. Laughter and conversation intertwined with the clinking of glasses and the clatter of cutlery against plate.

As the clock ticked on, Anne, Ominis and Estelle, reluctant to bid farewell to the enchanting family gathering, did not leave until late in the night, well after the usual bedtime for little Theo, who was by no means tired. Fuelled by the excitement of the festivities, he gave his parents an unexpectedly difficult challenge about agreeing to go to bed.

“Alright, I've finally got him to sleep.” Sebastian announced triumphantly as he descended the stairs to the living room.

“How did you do it?” MC asked from the sofa where she was sitting, drinking pumpkin juice.

He laughed, “I told him that the quicker he fell asleep, the quicker he'd wake up and be able to fly on his broomstick.”

MC joined in his laughter, albeit ruefully. Her smile seemed forced because it did not reach her eyes, which were shifty and preferred to remain fixed on the glass in her hands.

"What's the matter, darling? You're acting different." Sebastian asked with genuine concern as he sat down beside her and placed a comforting hand on her knee.

MC jumped up from the sofa at the touch, as if his contact had burnt her, "I – uhm... I have another present for you. I'm kind of nervous to give it to you. That's why I wanted to wait until we were alone."

As she stood in front of Sebastian, she consequently took out her wand and pointed it at one of the cabinets in the living room to open one of the drawers and take out a small rectangular box – about the size of a paperback book – which she made float towards her. Once the object was in her hands, she stared at it hesitantly, then took a deep breath before shoving the package into Sebastian's hands, who was still sitting on the sofa.

"But I only got you one present." Sebastian says, inspecting the present wrapped in red wrapping paper and adorned with a thick, glittery gold ribbon.

"No, you gave me two. Just because they were in the same box doesn't mean it counts as one gift. So we're even." She tried as best she could to reassure him, despite her own nerves, which had been frayed for several days now. "Now, open it."

Sebastian untied the ribbon and removed the lid. Inside he found a pair of white woollen knitted bootees. Under his wife's apprehensive gaze, he froze in silence for a long moment, trying to make sense of this original gift.

"I knitted them myself.” MC said in a small voice to break the agonising silence.

“They're very well made, but… You know, I think Theo already doesn't fit into these anymore." Sebastian joked in an attempt to ease the awkwardness between them.

MC choked back a strained laugh, "That's probably because they're not for Theo."

"Who're they for, then?" He asked with an uncomprehending frown, holding the bootees in his hands.

MC did not say a word. She simply looked at him with a nervous smile, patiently waiting for the realisation to hit him. When it eventually did, it was like he had been struck by lightning. He, who had always been cool-headed and knew how to remain composed even in the worst circumstances – even more so now that he had all his years as an Auror behind him – was currently speechless, and his eyes widened to such an extent that MC feared they would burst out of their sockets.

"You're pregnant?" Sebastian questioned, bewildered.

MC only nodded in response, as she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the tears welling up. Ever since she had seen a Healer to confirm her suspicions, she had dreaded the moment when she would break the news in turn, letting all sorts of doubts go to her head.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, and she could see her husband looking at her with wide, amazed eyes, she could no longer fathom how she had ever doubted him. How could she have ever thought that he would be anything but supportive to her?

"You're pregnant." He repeated again with a beaming smile, but this time it was not a question. It was a statement to himself, while he was still trying to process the information that had knocked him for six by how unexpected it was.

It seemed to do the trick to snap him out of his daze, as he jumped to his feet, his exuberance evident in the way he pulled MC into his arms. He lifted her off the ground and swirled her around in the air, a whirlwind of happiness and love. MC giggled, caught up in the infectious joy radiating from him. Laughter echoed through the room as they shared a dance of sheer delight, celebrating the beautiful journey that lay ahead of them.

"Oh, MC! That's... I don’t even have the words to describe how fabulous this is!" He exclaimed excitedly as he put her down on the ground and rested a gentle hand on her stomach. "We're gonna have another little one of our own."

"We are." MC confirmed, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and giving it a little squeeze, as if to assure him that it was all real.

"So that's why you got dizzy this morning!" Sebastian's eyes lit up with pride at having put the pieces together. However, that did not last long, because his realisation erased any trace of eagerness and replaced it with worry that made his face fall. "Bloody hell, MC! You cooked all morning while being pregnant. You should’ve let me do it. I'm your husband, you can– no, you must rely on me. I promise I'll be more present from now on, so that you can rest more."

Without further ado, he gently forced MC to sit back down on the sofa with him, so that she would not be even more tired after such a long day. She had to take it easy now that she was carrying their child, the proof of their unconditional love.

Sebastian was committed to being as doting as he could, to pampering his wife even more than he already was. So when MC suddenly burst into tears for no apparent reason, it was only natural for Sebastian to panic and try to work out what was wrong.

"What is it? Did I say something wrong?" He asked worriedly, immediately grabbing her hands.

"No. No, you’re perfect as always... But I was so scared to tell you." She replied in between sobs. "We've been so busy since we had Theo that we've never discussed whether we wanted a second child, plus you've just been promoted so you're going to have a lot of work coming up... I just didn't think it was the right time. I was scared you wouldn't be pleased with the news.”

Still holding her hands, Sebastian brought them to his mouth to place sweet kisses to her knuckles, “MC, I'll have as many children as you're willing to give me, whatever the circumstances.”

“So you're happy?” She asked him in a trembling voice, her big doe eyes full of tears.

It broke Sebastian's heart to see her like this, but he knew he had to get used to it, because this was just the beginning of the hormonal mood swings, "Very much so. You couldn't make me happier for Christmas."

He lovingly kissed away the tears on her cheeks, until none trickled down any more, and MC flung herself at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling into his soft hair, and he gladly hugged her back, holding her (and his future child) close to him.

Their embrace conveyed the depth of their joy, and all the unshakable love that bound them together. In that magical moment, as their hearts beat in harmony with the joyous news, the room seemed to overflow with the warmth of their connection. The hug lingered, a silent celebration of the love that had brought them to this beautiful chapter in their lives, while Sebastian whispered sweet words in MC's ear.

"We're gonna be one big happy family." He murmured while caressing her hair soothingly.

"I know."

Feeling a surge of emotions that mere words could not capture, MC gently pulled away from the hug. Her eyes, filled with a profound love, locked onto Sebastian's chocolate ones. In those perfect eyes, the ones she never wanted to look away from, she saw the promise of many more beautiful memories and wonderful Christmases to come.

A simple 'I love you' was nowhere near enough to convey how unconditionally enamoured she was with him. Words seemed insufficient to express the depth of her feelings. Instead, she chose a language that transcended the limitations of speech. She leant in, closing the distance between them, and pressed a tender, lingering kiss upon his lips.

The kiss spoke volumes—of gratitude, of connection, and of a love that could overcome any ordeal. It was a tender yet fervent gesture, a silent proclamation of the emotions that resonated within their hearts. As they shared the soft, meaningful kiss, the room seemed to hold its breath, enveloping them in the timeless language of love.

Sebastian, understanding the unspoken sentiments, responded with a warmth that mirrored her profound affection, even though he was the first to break the kiss and choose this moment of vulnerability to lay bare his heart.

“I adore you, Mrs. Sallow. Truly and desperately. Thank you for always making the happiest man alive.”

MC could not help but dive back in to kiss the lips that, for ten years now and until her last breath, she called home.

[starniolosposts]

behind the fame (2)

part 1, part two

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: you are starting to drown in your life, from your job to your trauma— and don’t see a way out. then chris sturniolo comes into your life.

warnings: controlling, guilt tripping (none of this is from chris)

notes: do you guys like it? is there any constructive criticism you have? i just really hope its okay, its my first story. but i’m excited as well! (this is not proofread or edited)

your phones ring tone blares through the bathroom, making your hands pause as you wash your hair. you had just gotten back home from that uncomfortable lingerie shoot that you never wanted to do. you gulped at the thought of everyone seeing you in such a vulnerable and exposed state.

contemplating, you shook your head and let your phone ring. you were in the shower with shampoo in your hair, why could you get out to answer it?

after your shower, you did your entire routine before looking at your phone. your eyes widened slightly in shock, caydens name displayed multiple times on the screen. he tried to call you 5 times and then went on to text you 10 times.

guilt bubbled up in your stomach as you chewed on your nail. what should you say to make him less angry? his texts were very passive aggressive, some just complaining snd some degrading. though thus wasn’t unusual for him,

you sighed and reluctantly pressed the call button.

of course he picked up in a millisecond, his tone making you shrink in on yourself. even just his voice has that much power over you, and you hate yourself for it.

"y/n, why didn't you answer me? it could have been very urgent. do you not care about me or this job?" he asks harshly.

you shake your head even if he cant see you. "of course i care! i'm so sorry, i was in the shower. i didn't see any of your calls or texts until i was out of the shower." you say, trying to convince him to not blow up. you hear him heavily sigh before he speaks with a normal tone, making you sigh in relief.

"well, it wasn't something urgent so you're lucky. i cancelled the shoot at 7, instead i want you to go to an influencer event. we need to start getting you out to social media, it'll help your reach to people." he explains.

relief flows over you, your stomach grumbling happily from the knowledge that you could eat without worry of bloating for the shoot or cayden knowing. "i agree, that would be great."

"good. i'll send you the details. make sure you look good, show off skin and look extra pretty. influencers from every platform will be there, some with thousands of followers and some with millions and millions." cayden chuckled, taking joy in the fact that he knew he was making you anxious about it.

you bit the inside of your cheek before responding. "okay, i'll try my best."

cayden didn't say anything before he hung up, making you set your phone down with a small huff. you stared down at your floor in thought. you were going to meet some of the biggest/trendiest influencers of right now, and you were very nervous. social interaction never came easy to you, you were on the shyer and more introvert side, despite your job. now you would have to introduce yourself to important people, and you knew cayden would be breathing down your neck the whole entire night. he would kill you if you screwed this up.

you were not very excited to say the least.

you got up and searched in your fridge for something to eat, and thought on the bright side of thing, at least you didn't have to do that bikini shoot early tomorrow morning.

as you sat at your kitchen island, eating a bowl of cereal even if it was late at night, your phone dinged. you grumbled and picked it up, knowing it was cayden since no one else texted you. he had sent you the details for the event. it was tomorrow at 6 pm, at a really nice venue not to far from your apartment.

“remember, smile like you love them. they like to be appreciated and want to feel important. flirt if you have too, just make sure to give a good impression. have them remember you.” cayden directed, sipping on his whiskey in the back of the limo, you sitting next to him.

you gulped and nodded, taking a deep breath as you got closer to the venue. you looked down at tour outfit and felt goosebumps rise on your arms. it was freezing outside, but cayden had demanded you wear this revealing dress. it was black, sparkly, and tight, having a very low neckline to show off your breasts and a high slit going up to your mid-thigh.

“will you be staying at the event?” you asked, and your prayers were ignored as he nodded.

“yes. i’ll be watching over you, don’t worry.” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. you only nodded once again.

the venue was beautiful. you stepped out of the limo in awe, mouth agape as you looked around at the marvelous outside. you yelped as a cold hand pressed harshly on your lower back, guiding you to the entrance.

cayden leaned down to your ear, “be good.” his tone was a warning, dark and threatening.

bad shivers went down your spine and cayden himself just caused your stomach to churn. you wanted to lean away but stayed frozen, only your legs moving to walk inside the big entrance.

as you walked in the venue on shaky legs with cayden behind you, people started to whisper.

“is that y/n l/n? i didn’t know she would be here!”

“woah, a celebrity is here? why is she here?”

“dude, did you see her wearing that lingerie shit? i want to fuck her so bad, now i have the chance to talk to her.”

your chest heaved in panic, your eyes staring down at your feet as you swiftly made your way to and empty table. you sat down and rubbed your forehead, easing your anxiety and panic. you never did good with attention, especially when it was negative or weird. good attention you were fine with, it was nice to be noticed and appreciated sometimes. but you hated the creeps or the people who made fun of you just because you were you.

“y/n, calm down. people will talk, its not that big of a deal. your behavior right now is embarrassing and outrageous. do i need to remind you of what i said?” cayden leaned down to look you in the eye, raising an eyebrow.

you blinked and shook your head. “n-no. i’m fine, i’m fine.” you cleared your throat and shook up, shoving down tour nerves and feelings as you started to walk around. you felt better with cayden following you, as he decided to sit down at the empty table with his drink and phone, not paying attention to you at all. it felt nice, freeing.

others peoples eyes were on you, but you tried to pay them no mind. you bit your lip as you try and find someone who looked welcoming or inviting, but could find no one. everyone was already in their groups/cliques, and it made you feel awkward barging into their group.

your looking at your feet to not make eye contact with anyone, but accidentally bump into someone. you gasp and stumbled backwards to fall, but someone grabs your arm and steadies you. its the guy you bumped into, and you stare.

he stares as well, shock written in his blue eyes as he searches your face in recognition. he clears his throat and lets go of your arm, “are you okay?”

you can only blink up at him, and it makes him chuckle at your silence.

“did you hit your head or something?” he asks cheekily, then sticks his hand out with a grin. “i’ll properly introduce myself. i’m chris sturniolo.”

chris’ introduction is met with more silence, and he tilts his head in confusion. he knows you talk, as you have on tv and interviews he’s seen. he knows who you are, who doesn’t at this point? you’re y/n l/n, the famous young model who is climbing the ranks quickly. he wonders what your doing here, at a influencers event. you were way to famous to be here.

your throat is dry and your heart pumps for a different reason than anxiety. his hair flips as his head tilts, eyes staring into yours with an unreadable expression. you gulp and mindlessly nod in response to his introduction, shaking his hand.

chris’ lips twitch into a smirk as he lets your hand go, and he gets a feeling that you wont talk easily. were you too nervous? lost your voice? maybe you randomly decided to go mute? did you not like him and not want to speak to him? he shrugs in his mind before sighing, “alright, well it was nice to meet you. my brothers are waiting over there—”

“can i come with?”

chris blinks before a smirk reaches his mouth, feeling accomplished. he got you to talk, and he liked your voice. “sure, quiet girl.”

you huff a small laugh at the nickname and quickly follow after chris as he maneuvers his way through the crowd of people. he glances behind him and smiles, “i warn you, my brothers will freak when they see you. they are fans of you and love your work.”

blush tints your cheeks, still not used to having fans and people that admire you. you nod and wring your hands, nervous to start meeting new people.

“chris! where did you run off to?! i literally just met larray and i’m freaking out.” a voice that sounded similar to chris exclaims.

your slightly behind chris, but can see the two carbon copies of him. your eyes widen in surprise, they were triplets?

chris smirks, and his brothers know what that smirk means. “what did you do now?” one asks with exasperation.

“nothing, i just bumped into someone too.” he said nonchalantly, building it up, “her name is y/n l/n.” you took this as you were supposed to introduce yourself, so you stepped into their line of sight and smiled with embarrassment.

the one with the nose ring stared at you with his jaw dropped, and the other one that looked most like chris had his eyes wide open.

“oh holy mother of fuck, it really is her! its such a pleasure to meet you, i’m nick sturniolo and this is matt.”

you laugh and your eyes crinkle from how wide you smiled. you loved when people weren’t to serious, and didn’t caring about what others thought. you could tell nick didn’t care, and you wished you were like that. “i’m y/n l/n.”

“no shit. you’re a full blown celebrity. what the hell are you doing here?” nick asks, then receives a small glare from chris and matt. “i mean— i’m just wondering why you would grace these people with your presence when they don’t deserve it.”

your cheeks turn pink and you shrug. “manager said it would be good for me. and please, just treat me like a regular person.” you tried to joke.

nick chuckled nervously, “yeah, sorry about my fan-girling. ill stop now.”

“good, your squealing was getting annoying.” matt starts to poke fun, but it made your eyes widen. you didn’t have any siblings, so you weren’t very familiar with how their dynamics worked. you watched in confusion and wonder as they started to bicker. you caught on pretty quick that they didn’t mean any of it was were just doing it for fun and teasing.

“they do this all the time, ignore them. they fight the most out of all of us.” chris says, standing next to you with his arms crossed as he looked at his brothers.

you nodded and softly smiled. you liked them already, they seemed genuine and made you feel as ease without even saying anything and without you even knowing them. it made you drawn to them.

chris feels himself get nervous and get small butterflies in his stomach when he glances at you, which has never happened before. he gulps and blurts out, “how is the event going so far for you?”

you pull a face and tilt your hand back in forth in a ‘so-so’ motion. “alright. its not really my thing, social gatherings.”

chris nods and laughs, “me too, i hate these event things. nick forced me and matt to come.” he grumbles, glaring at them, who are still going back and forth.

“i understand.” you whisper, thinking back to how cayden forces you to do things too. your mind couldn’t help but think back on the words he said to you in the limo. ‘flirt if you have too.’ you shook your head with furrowed brows. you would never just flirt with someone to get their attention, absolutely not. the thought of flirting with someone you don’t like romantically makes you uncomfortable, but if cayden was watching, would he want you to flirt with the triplets? you glanced at chris subconsciously and your eyes scrutinized him carefully. you liked his style, his hair looked soft, his side profile was attractive, his eyes that were looking at you—

you quickly looked away and felt humiliation and embarrassment fill you. he caught you blatantly staring with blush on your cheeks, how could this get any worse?

“y/n.”

your muscles immediately tense and your breath hitches at the sound of caydens voice behind you. the underlining tone of anger made you want the ground to swallow you hole.

chris, nick, and matt all turned to look at cayden standing behind you, confused and cautious from your reaction. chris was most suspicious as he saw the dread fill your eyes the second you heard that voice, and he couldn’t help but think something was wrong.

cayden smiled at the triplets, but even they could tell it was strained. “nice to meet you, gentlemen. i’m y/n’s manager, cayden anderson.” he sets a hand on your forearm, shifting you closer to him. it felt like a jealous and territorial move, and it made your skin crawl with uncomfortableness.

you gulp and stare down at the floor, wishing for this interaction to be over with. cayden always brought awkwardness, tension, and a whole ball of negativity to anyone close or trying to be close with you. ironic, since he tells you to make connections and then gets jealous when you try to.

the triplets could obviously feel the tension by their silence.

nick is the first to break the awkward and tense silence. “yeah, nice to meet you too. i’m nick sturniolo, and this is chris and matt. we’re triplets.” he explains, trying to smile it off.

chris glances between you and cayden, and he knows its none of his business considering he only met you 5 minutes ago, but you seemed so obviously uncomfortable and anxious around your manager that it was hard to miss. “nice to meet you.” he says curtly, deciding very quickly he doesn’t like this cayden guy.

cayden stared at chris dead in the eye, feeling his dislike towards him. he is surprised when chris gives him a dirty look while scanning him up and down, since not many people are brave enough to do that to a well-known and famous modeling manager.

“well, i think tonight is enough for y/n. she has a early shoot tomorrow.” cayden pats your arm before squeezing, making you wince and nod silently in agreement.

chris bit his tongue, forcing himself not to say anything to that. it was only 6:30, 30 minutes into the event. he glanced at you, “alright, good luck on the shoot.” he smiles, making you blink before a small smile grows on your lips. you didn’t want to leave, you want to get to know the triplets more. but you knew that you couldn’t disobey cayden, especially not when he was in this mood.

“thanks.” you whisper, and then you are whisked away by cayden, not being able to say goodbye to tour new friends? acquaintances? you didn’t know, you didn’t have a lot if experience in the friend department, as sad as that sounds. your whole life had been modeling, and you were taught to make no friends in the industry.

“…was that weird, or is that just me?” matt speaks up, staring in the direction you were dragged off in.

nick nods and bites the inside of his cheek. “yeah, but she was really sweet and shy. i don’t like that guy though. crayon, or whatever the fuck his name was.” he grumbled.

chris sighed, ignoring the urge to go after you to… he doesn’t know. to get your number? ask you to stay? this was unlike him, being so unsure and anxious to talk to someone. usually he was fine with new people, making conversation easily, but with you its different and he doesn’t know why.

nick and matt glance at each other as chris was distracted, eyes staring off in the direction you were dragged off in with a sour look on his face.

“i wonder if he’s interested in her.” matt asks with a yawn. he is his triplet after all, he can tell when something like this happens.

nick sighs and rolls his eyes, “i’m pretty sure he’s already falling in love. he was quiet and he seemed nervous. you and i both know those are signs of a crush for chris.”

“i mean, she is y/n l/n. who doesn’t have a crush on her?” matt comments, scrolling on his phone mindlessly.

“true, i’m gay and i have a crush on her.”

@enyaslover

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

005

Pairing : Miguel O'Hara X Best Friend Reader

Genre : fluff

Summary : Miguel being Miguel at his finest.

Wordcount: 1.4k

Miguel O’Hara Masterlist

This is a direct continuation of 004. : )

Surprisingly enough (or somewhat not),  it doesn't take long before the two of you fall into an easy routine. It takes Miguel a total of two days before he's completely used to having your presence the little amount more around than usual

It scares Miguel how natural it feels to share his bed with you, and to live with you. It's now been a little over two weeks since you've been staying at his place, and he absolutely loves it. Not that he's willing to admit that to anyone.

He loves how easy it is to come home to a freshly cooked meal, or to cook together when he finds the time for it. He loves waking up next to you, wrapped up into one another. You relax him to a level where he actually has to put an alarm clock on in order to wake up on time. Sleeping more comfortably with you next to him.

The attack at your place did shake him though, having brought him right back into his paranoia about losing you. Just a little more than before. He's strict in the simple rule of wanting to pick you up when you have a shift until late. He's also adamant about dropping you off when you start early. (The shop you work at is open from 8-21', morning shifts start at 6'.) 

Currently it's afternoon, and your shift ended about 10 minutes ago. You're on your way to his lab, and should be arriving soon. At least, he hopes you arrive soon. Peter B is in his lab, and keeps on telling him about Mayday, who's also crawling all over the place.

Miguel sighs once more as Peter just wouldn't stop talking.

" Peter. I really don't care. Go bother someone else." Miguel grumbles, hoping Peter will take the obvious hint and leave.

To his disappointment, he doesn't.  Things get even more interesting annoying when one of the recently recruited spider woman walk into the lab. 

He doesn't like her. Not even a little bit. He doesn't understand why Ben brought her in. She was an okay spiderwoman, but maybe not yet great enough for the multiverse. He still trusts Ben though, trusting his judgement on this one.

" Hi Peter, hi Miguel!" She calls to both of them with a smile.

Miguel can't even remember her name. 

Peter enthusiastically calls back to her whilst Miguel himself grumbles a forced greeting in response. 

She wordlessly slings herself onto his platform as well, smiling as she holds out a box to him.

He raises a brow at her in question.

" I heard you usually tend to skip lunch unless someone reminds you, so I decided to bring you some empanadas, I heard you like those." She smiles.

He admits the gesture is sweet. But he can't be bothered to give a damn when he knows you're on your way with freshly baked goodies. (The cafe you work at is also a fresh bakery.)

" Y/N's on her way with my lunch." He deadpans, no emotion visible on his face.

He has no idea if you actually are, but you usually bring him something.

Nameless spiderwoman blushes in embarrassment, something Peter is able to help with.

" Hey, Mayday and I haven't eaten yet! We'll take em." He smiles.

" Don't let Mayday eat in my lab, Peter. It'll be a mess." Miguel warns Peter, who hums and skip off.

Spider woman remains, something Miguel doesn't really understand, but whatever.

As if on que, he hears your footsteps nearing from down the hall, and so he lowers his platform wordlessly.

Just as the platform almost nears the ground, you walk in. Miguel can't help himself when a slight smile pulls at his face.

With some struggles, and a helping hand, you manage to climb onto the platform.

" Thanks. Also, here's your lunch. We were making croissants this morning. One has chocolate by the way, I'm only willing to share that one if you ask nicely." You tell him, setting a paper bag onto his desk.

You turn to the spider woman with a smile, surprising her.

" Hi, I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself yet- I'm Y/N. Not a spider person, I just mostly hang out around HQ when I'm not working." You grin, holding out your hand for her.

She takes it, smiling politely.

" Hi. My name is Mary Jane, but I mostly go by MJ." She smiles as well.

" Was I interrupting anything?" You ask as you glance back at Miguel, who's munching on a croissant.

MJ opens her mouth to reply, but Miguel beats her to it.

" No, you're fine. She was just leaving." Miguel says, giving MJ a pointed look.

MJ turns pink in embarrassment again before mumbling out a greeting and swinging away.

" You sure I didn't?" You ask him. " She seemed to have something to say." You tell him.

He shrugs.

" I don't really care to be honest. " He tells you.

You hum, before plopping into his desk chair and opening up something on your phone.

" Hey so I've been looking around, and I found a new apartment. It's a little farther away, and even smaller, but it's in a nicer neighborhood and has better security." You tell him, opening up the site on your phone to show him.

However, when you turn your phone to face him , you find him already looking at you, as if he meant to tell you something a while ago.

" Right." He starts, glancing at the screen of your phone before he wipes his mouth of crumbs with his sleeve. " So uhm, I was actually thinking...- What if you stay with me?" He asks, eyes showcasing that kind of vulnerability he only shows with you.

You blink at him.

" You can't be serious right?" You ask him eventually.

" What?"

" Look. You're my best friend. And you always will be. But don't be mistaken that I didn't notice how you cast me aside until I was in danger two weeks ago, Miguel. You can't just treat me like that, save me, and expect us to share a space on your name in which you could kick me out whenever you want." You tell him.

There's no bite in your words, no ill intentions. Miguel knows he messed up with the stupid idea of creating distance between the two of you, now he isn't even sure why he made that decision.

" Look, uhm, I- I don't know how to explain this to you, but I have a sort of valid... reason? I didn't do it because I was bored of you or something. I know I never will be, in fact." He tells you, stepping closer to you as he takes your free hand in his.

" I'll tell you when I'm ready. I promise. But for now, I just can't tell you." He tells you quietly.

In truth, his reasoning is pretty wacky. He's fallen for you. Hard. And he was afraid of his own feelings, still is, but just slightly less. 

You sigh, but nod.

" Look, I trust you. Just promise me you won't randomly kick me out and we can see if this works out." You tell him, your thumb running comforting patterns over his hand.

He visibly brightens up at your words as he nods. " Okay." He smiles softly.

The two of you are now so close, it's incredibly tempting to kiss you right now. Almost giving into the moment to bend down and connect your lips to his- he's grateful to be distracted when one of his screens showcase a circling movement, signaling an anomaly.

You turn to look at it as well- were you too swept up in the moment?

" Right. Work. " You hum as you pick out your chocolate croissant from the bag on top of his table.

[ A/N: Anyone one has any ideas for this one shot-series book? I'm lowkey running out of scenarios except for a selected few but I don't feel like quitting these two just yet.]

000 - Taglist

006

@adamsloverboy

@ihateuguys

@alchemist421

@julesclues

@bxrbiewrites

@dammittjanet

[mediocreanomaly]

Love your soulmate au for vashwood so much. What if it was with reader and knives?

Knives would be so confused with feeling random pains like a stubbed toe or a random pinch.

🌻Hope you have a good day🌻

Authors note: Yo! ofcourse I had to turn this into a post!!! My main story will be Vashwood but I'm basing this in the same world as the Vashwood x reader stuff, consider this a little side story I might expand on if it gets enough love lol you don't have to read the other parts to understand this tho

Read the Vashwood Parts Here!: Part 1 | Part 2

Read Part 2 Here!

Knives X Reader Soulmate AU

•Knives had learned about soulmates during his studies with Rem, a person all humans had that was tethered to them in some sort of spiritual or metaphysical sense, one that could feel your pain.

•It was stupid. In all honesty he was glad he wasn't human so he didn't have to deal with something so tedious. It would only slow him down, he couldn't imagine how humans dealt with such a hinderance

•He often listened to Vash ramble on about soulmates and offered little assurance, often saying things like "We aren't human Vash we don't have soulmates", "You shouldn't want a soulmate anyways it's pain for no reason", "Will you stop talking about it already? it's beneath us"

•After the fall Knives all but forgets soulmates even exist. He's focused on bigger things and he doesn't have a soulmate anyways so the thought is nonexistent

•Then the oddest thing happens. He's busy destroying a town attempting to take their plant, it's a routine stop, when he swears he feels a pain shoot through his foot

•He quickly whips his head around, looking around to figure out what exactly could have done that but there's nothing but his own destruction. weird.

•He thinks about it for a couple days because he isn't used to getting hurt but reluctantly chalks it up to him some how being careless with his blades, even though that explanation doesn't really sit right with him it's the only thing that makes sense

•Then a couple months later in the sanctuary of his own quarters he feels a burn across his hand. He furrows his brow and slowly looks over his hand over and over to see where the burn is coming from yet there's no mark, just the feeling

•Fool him once shame on him fool him twice....

•He marches down to Conrads office irritated about whatever's happening. Conrad listens as he explains the two incidents, how there's no mark, how it's annoying and distracting him from more important matters

•Conrad nods and says he's going to run an experiment, before Knives can fully ask what says experiment is Conrad reaches over and roughly jabs him in the side

•Safe to say Conrad almost lost his head that day. In fact Knives blades where pressed to his neck when he felt a returning jab in his arm

•Once Knives realizes what's happening he's furious. He's a superior being he doesn't need a soulmate he's been fine with out one for a century, he doesn't even understand, why now? Why when he's so close to achieving his plans?

•After this he makes it a top priority to kill you. What? you thought he was going to be merciful just because your his soulmate? This whole thing is just a bump in the road of his plans, it'll be easy. He'll kill you and then he doesn't have to worry about feeling your pain. Besides, right now it's just a stubbed toe or a burn but come tomorrow he can't afford to be distracted if you break an arm or get shot

•So he rampages towns non-stop, trying to find you, hoping he'll feel his own blade for a split second before it can go back to normal

•During his rampages...is when you join Dr.Conrad in his studies. You were a plant specialist, the most renowned in your field, yet...the most you studied plants, the more you interacted and saw...the more you hated humans for how you used them

•You felt humans didn't deserve plants, didn't deserve the sentient life force the human race had created, so when you found out about Dr.Conrad you'd practically begged him to let you join the cause

•So ironically Knives was pretty much wasting his time being out causing mass destruction, if he had stayed he might've put the pieces together a bit faster, but he didn't

•Unlike Vash Knives doesn't really let himself get hurt, he does the hurting so Knives doesn't realize you're his soulmate for a long time, but this is good because if he realized right off the bat you'd probably be dead

•Instead he slowly comes to learn of your existence. He doesn't really care much about you one was or the other when he first meets you. Your Conrads help? Okay. That's it, that's all there is really he doesn't care

•Yet for some reason...every time he passes through to speak with Conrad he can't help but watch you work while he pretends to be focusing on whatever the man was saying

•It's almost maddening because he doesn't understand why you of all people have caught he attention so he starts trying to interact with you more. It's a little unnerving at first, I mean...it's Knives. He either silently stands over you as you work or makes less that nice comments about how your doing things wrong

•But you aren't deterred in fact you're pretty interested by Knives. You've studied plants your whole life but Knives...Knives is something different, something more. So you use the time he hovers to ask him questions about himself, how his gate works, if he sleeps or eats, logging each difference between him and humans and him and other plants

•Maybe it's the way your brain is wired from interacting with so many plants, maybe it's the fact Knives seems to pay particular attention to you,(maybe it's the fact you're soulmates lmao) but you're basically the only one who can read him. You don't know how but you pick up on the slight mouth twitches, the shifts in his shoulders, the difference between his "i'm annoyed" grimace and his "i'm enjoying this but I don't want you to know" grimace

•He won't admit it to you, not yet, but he's starting to feel...fond of you. He'll pretend he needs to speak to Conrad about the progress of his experiments but really he's just there to answer whatever questions you have and to talk to you in return

•Now don't forget, you can feel your soulmates pain...and this is Trigun. You are the first to realize you're soulmates. How you might ask? Well let's put it this way, would you want to feel yourself getting destroyed during the events of Ja'Lai?

•The Ja'Lai incident. It's possibly the worst pain you've ever felt in your life, despite the way Knives grits his teeth through it till the end to an average person? It's unbearable. You black out multiple times from the feeling, body laying in a heap as you try to figure out what's happening

•Once you hear about what happened in Ja'Lai...you instantly know. Luckily (and much to his protest) Legato eventually lets you help nurse Knives back to health

•You sit on the side of Knives bed, your own body still feeling like you have third degree burns as you watch the body of the man you'd been falling for. You knew he didn't want a soulmate, part of you wondered if you should even tell him when he wakes up...

•Well...who knows how he'll respond. Doesn't matter now though, he wont be waking up any time soon, so you have time to come up with a plan. Let's just hope your previous time with him has proved enough to win him over.

[cailinsblog]

you gotta write for Aiden McCarthy

Yesssss queen I will pookie💕 I hope you like it

Go read her work it’s amazing @mialikeshockey

Skating into love | Aiden McCarthy

Aiden McCarthy x reader

It was a chilly Saturday afternoon when Aiden McCarthy, the star hockey player for the Chicago Wolves, decided it was time for a change of pace. With his busy schedule of training, games, and media appearances, he'd barely had any time to relax lately. That morning, after a quick workout, he'd come up with an idea to spend some quality time with his girlfriend, Y/N, outside the confines of their usual routine.

"How about we go skating?" he suggested casually as they were getting ready for the day, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Y/N looked up from the sweater she was pulling over her head, eyes narrowing. She loved spending time with Aiden, but she wasn’t so sure about this idea. "Skating?" she repeated, her voice betraying her hesitation. "I... I don't know. I’m not very good at it, Aiden. Like, not at all."

Aiden's smile widened. "It'll be fun, I promise. Plus, I'll be there to catch you if you fall."

Y/N shot him a skeptical look, but he was already pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys. The idea of spending the afternoon with Aiden was too tempting to turn down, even if it meant risking her dignity on the ice.

---

They arrived at a small outdoor rink a few miles from her apartment. The rink was quiet, surrounded by tall trees that rustled gently in the cold breeze. A few families skated lazily around, while a couple of kids chased each other in circles, their laughter echoing through the crisp air.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she looked at the ice, the smooth surface shimmering in the late afternoon light. The last time she'd been skating was years ago, and back then, she’d barely been able to stay upright. She was definitely not looking forward to the possibility of falling in front of Aiden, especially since he made it look so effortless.

"Okay, so here's the deal," Aiden said, pulling on his gloves. "I’m gonna teach you how to skate. I’m basically a pro, so you’ll be gliding in no time. Just follow my lead."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest. "Aiden, you’re a professional hockey player. This is your world. I... I don’t think I’m cut out for it."

Aiden chuckled softly, taking her hand and leading her toward the rink. "I don’t know, Y/N, I think you’ve got this. You just have to trust me." He grinned, clearly enjoying the teasing. "I’ll even hold your hand the whole time."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth in her chest at the thought of him being there to help. "Okay, okay. But if I fall, I’m blaming you."

"Deal," he said, winking as they stepped onto the ice.

The moment her skates hit the rink, Y/N felt her balance waver, and she instinctively grabbed onto Aiden’s arm. She hadn’t even taken a full step before she felt like she was going to topple over.

Aiden’s lips quirked up, and he wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. "Easy there, rookie," he teased, his tone light and playful. "You’re not gonna get anywhere by clinging to me like a koala bear."

Y/N glared at him but couldn’t suppress the giggle that bubbled up despite her nervousness. "I’m serious, Aiden. I’m not good at this."

"Don’t worry," he said, guiding her slowly forward. "I’m not gonna let you fall."

As they shuffled along the ice, Aiden tried to show her the basic movements — how to glide, how to push off, how to stop without crashing into the boards. Y/N tried to follow his instructions, but each time she moved her feet, she felt like she was about to go down. Her legs were stiff, her ankles were wobbling, and every few seconds, she’d look at Aiden for reassurance.

"I’m gonna die out here," she muttered under her breath.

Aiden laughed, clearly enjoying the chaos. "You’re doing fine! You’re making progress. Look, you're not even falling yet!"

"I will if you keep making fun of me," Y/N said, her voice half teasing, half serious.

"I’m not making fun of you," Aiden replied with a sly smile. "I’m just helping you out. A little tough love never hurt anyone."

Y/N gave him a side-eye. "I don’t need tough love. I need actual help."

Aiden chuckled. "Fine, fine. Let's make this a game, okay? Every time you stay upright for ten seconds, you get a point. And if you fall? I owe you a hot chocolate."

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "So basically, if I fall, I still win."

"Pretty much," Aiden agreed, his grin never fading. "But I’ll still give you a lesson in skating. The faster you learn, the less

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here~

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.5<< >>Ch.7

Notes: Miguel is enjoying your presence with each passing day. Realizations is slowly creeping through.

Chapter 6: Tell Me that You Love Me...

Word count: 2.1K

Three weeks passed when you first officially hung out.

Six weeks when Miguel's “tabs” turned into genuine daily conversations ranging from text messages to phone calls that he never imposed on missing.

Nine weeks when things began to take a turn.

Over the course, you two have gotten closer. Miguel would sneak from his workstation over to your humble abode at any chance that was available. 

It eventually became a routine, a regime. Wednesday nights were the ceremonial ‘hangout days,’ as you had every Thursday off.

And every Wednesday, Miguel had justifications on precisely why he should not be troubled on that particular day.

“I need to double check if the code for stabilizing dimensions is up to date.” Liar.

“I'm performing augmented machinery work for the portal watches. They've been malfunctioning for me.” Bullshit.

“I'm tired.” That was sort of true, but it never slowed him down before.

Whenever someone even attempts to debate or raise any doubts, he flares, defensively striking more so than usual. It became a phrase around the coven of Spider-people.

“Be careful; it's ‘Snappy Wednesdays’ for Miguel.” Would be telephoned throughout.

It vexed him to no end. If he wanted to remain unbothered, he should just be permitted to do so with no hassle. But no, it's never that easy for him. It was never easy until he crossed that threshold. 

When he steps through your door, the stress and the unease lingers yet vanish. A strange balance.

“Are they still giving you hell about leaving?”

You poured the boiled noodles into a cauldron as Miguel was sprawled out on your couch, his sheathed claws harshly massaging his temples.

“Yes, and today was no better. I swear if I hear one more, ‘but are you sure you want to leave? It's a scary world out there,’ I'm going to lose it ¿Por qué tengo que ser uno para ponerlos todos? ¿Por qué me estoy plagando de estos idiotas?”

You peer up at the grouchy man and smile. 

“I just don't understand why they're not used to it by now. I mean, maybe the first or second time it'll be weird, but the fifth or sixth? It's just a routine at that point. Or maybe that's just me. I can't speak for everyone.” You giggle, dumping the spaghetti in the meat sauce, and begin to stir.

“No, you're right. I just wish they would get used to it. Having to endure this shit is mind-numbing.”

You hobbled over to him with a giant bowl of pasta for him and a decent portion for you.

“Well, I hope there's some solace here. Even if it's just a smidgen.” You wormed your way right next to him before handing him his portion, crossing your legs on the sofa.

“Trust me when I say there's peace within these walls.” Miguel twirled the fork around.

“As peaceful as an apartment building can get, so a good forty-five percent.”

“Why so low?”

“Have you ever heard neighbors going at it in the middle of the night? I mean, they're certainly finding solace in each other! There's other factors, of course, but that's the biggest.”

A shared laugh broke out as you sighed in unison.

A comforting quietude rested; the only sounds being made were the clanking and clattering of the forks against the bowls.

“I've been meaning to ask, what's the name of the store you work for?” He filled in a little bit of space between you two.

“Huh, I never told you? I swore I did.”

Miguel shook his head.

“Guess I've gotten so comfortable around you, my brain assumes I did tell you.”

That rocked Miguel. You felt comfort in his presence? Was it an obligation or authentic? He disrupted that train of thought and briskly attuned his focus back to you.

“Alright, are you ready for the name?” You perched your dish on the table, relaxing your palms on your full belly.

“Sí, tan listo como siempre lo estaré. Go for it.”

“Adequate Antique Antics.”

Miguel's eyes flickered as his brain made an effort to process what you said.

“Adequate anti- what now?”

“Adequate Antique Antics. Bit of a tongue twisting mouthful, isn't it?”

He nodded in agreement, setting his bowl next to yours.

“Eso estuvo delicioso. So why did she name the store that?”

Your face heated at the compliment he gave you. He was just expressing that he enjoyed the spaghetti. Yet it made you giddier than how you normally would react.

“I'm glad you enjoyed it. And she didn't pick it–a family-owned business. You know how that goes.” Settling more onto the couch, minding the glass bowls, you prop your feet and free a displeasing sigh.

“She's been in a fight with her parents to change the name ever since I can remember. And oh my gosh, I'm still hearing about it until this day!”

Miguel blinked as he waited for you to continue. A week or so ago, he picked up on your facial expressions when you were done speaking. 

And you clearly weren't.

“For nearly three and a half years I've been working there, she somehow manages to bring up the argument for the name every day without fail. And here I'm thinking I'm persistent, but my goodness.”

Miguel snickered at your heated explanation. “Ronnie sounds very vehement.”

“I prefer hard-headed. But that works too.”

You grin at each other as you pretend to readjust yourself, scooting closer to him.

“I'm weirdly tempted to meet this Ronnie and see what she's like in person.”

You blew a raspberry before flinging a hand over your mouth. You possibly got too comfortable around him. 

Miguel lifted a brow at that reaction from you. He's never seen you do that before.

“Ah! I'm sorry. An atypical response I get sometimes. Just a slip of the tongue.” You cringed at the unintentional pun.

“I think it's adorable.” Now it was Miguel's turn to wince. The difference was that he hid it well.

You squirmed in your seat before mentally scolding yourself.

“Oh, thank you. That's very sweet of…”

You trailed off, gazing into his hypnotizing, vermillion eyes. Miguel returned the stare, taking in every part of your face. 

Every inch, from your eyes, your nose, your lips, and more. How your skin gleamed–even if the lights were dimmed in your apartment, it still managed to make you shine ever so brightly.

Dazing back simultaneously, you both spun your heads towards the front. Your heart pounded so hard that even your stomach felt it. Miguel controlled his breathing, his cheeks heating up. 

He couldn't. He shouldn't.

“Um, but yes, if you want to. Ronnie can be a bit of an intense menace, but she means well. Well, as well as one can mean.”

“That's how I feel about Peter.” Miguel grumbled. Even speaking his name causes him to instinctively grouch about it.

“From the stories you told about him, putting those two together under one roof?” You shuddered just at the thought of it.

“She can't be as bad as Peter.”

You gave Miguel a tentative look.

“It's that bad?”

You heavily nodded your head. “Minus the baby.”

“Funny how we both have someone who causes some sense of hassle.”

You gave a crooked smile. “It's a curse but also a blessing. Because at the end of the day, we know they just want the best.”

“For themselves?”

“Yes, but also in general. Though I don't fully agree with the methods she uses, Ronnie will always have my back. For example, if ever I need a day off for an emergency, I know I will receive it. Or when she told me I get every Thursday off. I was skeptical at first, but no, she kept her word. I only had to come in one Thursday because it was so heavily swamped, but I did not mind whatsoever. She goes out of her way to help me, and if she ever needs something, I'm willing to sacrifice to help her out. And I'm sure if you ever required anything, Peter would be there for you, and in return, you would do the same for him.”

Miguel could only gape.

“Heck, that even goes for us. Remember the first time you slept over? I told you I wouldn't let you suffer because you also helped me.” You laid your head back and stared at the ceiling.

“I personally like to think it's a give and give, with an occasional receive. Self-sacrifice? Maybe that's what I'm thinking of. I don't mind giving, but I'm also human, so if one is glad to lend more, then I'm going to return that favor, if not extra.”

“Some may see it as a beneficiary sort of deal. I helped this person out, so I should get something in return. Even though we humans are very reliant on one another in certain ways, some can use it for selfish needs.” You began to leisurely drum on your stomach.

Jutting up from your laid-back posture, you rotated your body toward him.

“I'm so sorry for the rambling. I hope anything I said made even a lick of sense.”

Your voice was slightly panicked before Miguel placed his hand on your arm, making sure to retract his claws.

“No, you're fine. I understood what you were alluding to.”

Your eyes landed on his fingers. They were calloused against your skin. He was always gentle around you.

“You aren't necessarily afraid to give and get nothing in return. But you're willing to go beyond and above for those who also have your best interests in mind.”

“Yeah! Wow, you summed up my spiel so easily. It might be that super duper smart spider brain.”

You giggled as his shoulders shook with a breathless laugh.

“Si. My spider brain is too highly advanced for many common people.”

You stared at him. He meant for it to come off as a joke. The problem was that his delivery was stern and dry. It almost sounded as if he suggested it as more of a statement.

He began to tighten until your face creased buoyantly. “It undoubtedly is for me. I'm going to assume jokes don't come easy for you?”

He slumped, and his jaw slackened. “I've been told I'm not funny.”

“You give me more sarcasm vibes than jokey ones. And I do enjoy a good sarcastic reply.”

You nudge him mischievously, garnering a joking eye roll. 

You two carried on your conversation until, at one point, Miguel self-reflected while you went to the shower.

Miguel bit his bottom lip as his mind raced to the earlier conversation. He sacrifices, but does he self-sacrifice? He gives up so much for the others, but do they even acknowledge his efforts? He’s aware they won't do the same, but would it be different if it were someone closer? 

It never crossed his mind how much he exactly does. The trillions that he's keeping safe. He's willing to let a few things go for them.

The one he truly wanted to keep safe is gone. He would be ready to give up everything just for her.

Miguel got startled as your voice sprang from the corner.

“You know what I was thinking–you should visit the antique shop! It would be fun to show you all the vintage items scattered!”

Sensing that there was something off, you sped over to him.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

Miguel bowed his head. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just lost in thought.”

“Well, if you ever wanna talk about it, just let me know, okay?” You rubbed his shoulder, kneading it some to relieve a bit of pressure. “Know I'm here for you.”

That smile. That tranquil, patient smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat. Those considerate sparkling eyes that have him believe things are okay, even if it's just for a split second.

Would he give everything up for you as well?

A string breaks loose.

He decided to not dwell on it anymore.

“What were you saying before you came in?” He smoothly switched the conversation.

“Oh! You should visit the shop. If you want to or have time, of course. We're open from nine until seven.”

“I'll try, but I don't know if I really can during the day.”

You swallowed your disappointment and waved your hand. “Remember, just an offer! I'll probably still be working there for the next few years anyway, so I'm sure we'll still get time in the future.”

He was shocked. You would still want to be around him? He doesn't believe he's particularly special.

And there are just too many wrongs within him that would turn anyone away.

“Yeah, I will see.”

You flopped yourself on the sofa as you proceeded to converse until Miguel had to leave.

“We will see.” He murmured, staring up at your apartment complex, and trudged away.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Hey girl! Hope you’re doing well! Hope to chat with you soon 😃 I’m just wondering, if you’re willing to give some advice on how to get back into studying and all that. Cuz your girl is struggling with studying at the moment lol(Only if you want too, you can tell me no if it’s too much) Thanks in advance! Hope you’re having a great day/night! Sending you lots of hugs 💜💜💜

Hey love!

I'm doing as well as I can in the circumstances, how are you doing?

I'm probably not the best person to ask for studying advice because it's 10.40pm and I'm planning to stay up late working on my assignment due tomorrow, but I'll do my best! Honestly, when it comes to studying, you gotta do what you gotta do, especially when you're balancing your studies with a house, a job, mental health etc...

Here's what I can think of, from the top of my head...

Make your study space as 'you' as possible - my desk is full of little trinkets which people have gifted to me over the years, it's got a little calendar on it, it's got all my studying essentials on it, the coasters I use have sarcastic quotes on them... make your study space as defined as you can with what you have, and keep it as your study space. Make it fun, fill it with things which bring you joy. Or don't - some people like clutter, some don't. The point is, make your study space yours. It's hard to study, you deserve/need to be comfortable while you're doing it.

Create a little routine which always starts your studying - for me, I always study with a litre of iced coffee to start, I always watch a study vlog to make me feel less alone in the process, I always make sure my hair is in a state I'm happy with, and I make sure I have something to snack on while I work. With all those little things in place, it's easier to sit and study because once the routine is complete and I found something I can watch while I study [which is usually some kind of horror film], I can focus.

Make a five minute rule. Or if that's too much, a one sentence rule. Starting is always the hardest part but once you have momentum, it's usually pretty easy to keep going. So study for five minutes or write one sentence of notes. Just do something because once you start, it'll be easier to carry on.

Reward yourself little and often. You wrote a whole paragraph? That's amazing!!! Give yourself something delicious, your favourite sweet treat if you have one, take a small break to listen to your favourite song, just something as a little boost for your productivity.

Take breaks when you need them. [I don't take breaks because if I do, I'll lose my Focus Zone, even if it's only for five minutes. I gotta keep going or I'll stop and won't be able to carry on studying for the rest of the day, which is why I can do twelve-fifteen hour study stints. If I don't do it like that then I can't do it at all. But I know this isn't healthy or ideal, so I'm being a hypocrite and recommending that you take breaks.😂]

Keep your promises to yourself so you build a good trusting rapport with yourself, which will make it easier to be consistent with studying in the long run because you'll trust you can do it, and you will. So if you say you'll study for twenty minutes and then go grab another coffee? You gotta do it!

If you can, keep in contact with other students to help you feel less alone in studying or ask your professors for help when you need it, even if you think it's something small and silly. My grandad always used to say that the only stupid questions were the ones you didn't ask, and the older I get, the more I realise that he was right! If you're asking for help when you need it, it's too late! Ask before you need it, and be honest if you're struggling. Most people are really understanding and will help you if you ask.

Don't be afraid to watch YouTube videos or go outside of the syllabus to help you understand complex topics, just use critical thinking to make sure it's a reputable academic source and isn't going to be full of misinformation. There are lots of teacher channels who explain things as they would in a classroom, and it's helped me many a time when my textbooks just won't let concepts stick in my brain.

Consistency is key! If you can only do five minutes a day, that's okay! Just be consistent - small and steady wins the race, and it's not how fast you get it done! It's quality, not quantity.

I hope something here helps - if you want something more specific, please let me know and I'd be happy to chat about it with you! I hope you're having a good day/night too, and I'm sending you cuddles!!!🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂❤️

[mooodyblue]

Hi lily I'm having a rough night so i was wondering if it was okay that I request something that will make me feel better.

What about cg!e with a little that HATES change (me) And maybe the big change is E has been home for longer than normal and all of a sudden he has to go back on tour and reader HATES THAT so she has a big meltdown when El tells her he has to go back and he reminds her they have a routine on tour too and that it'll be the same as last time (so not a lot is changing) ?

I hope this makes sense

miss you xo - kiwi

hope u feel better :( <3 ty for the request!! hopefully i can cheer u up a bit with this ~~

pairing: 70s!cg!elvis x gn!little!reader

wc: 942

➸masterlist

elvis knew you never did well with change, so of course when he sat through another tedious meeting with the colonel, you wouldn’t be happy with the news he was just given.

he’d been on a break from touring for a little longer than usual, surprisingly due to doctors orders. he spent a bit of time with you in hawaii then flew back to memphis, getting plenty of alone time with you now that he had a bit of time to take care of little you. 

you had a strict everyday routine with him. breakfast together, lunch together, snack time together, and so forth. the two of you always watched cartoons together and he adored watching you play happily in front of him every day. unfortunately, that routine was about to change.

his health wasn’t great, however, it was good enough for the colonel to make him go back on another long US tour. he wished that if he had to suffer through another long, agonizing tour that he’d at least go overseas, but that was just a dream that would never come true. now it left him with the plan of telling you. 

he stepped back into his home, immediately being jumped on by you with an excited squeal. he hated that he was about to crush your spirits. “hey, baby. what’re you doin’, huh?” he chuckled, picking you up and kissing your rosy cheeks. 

“can we play now, daddy? please?” you begged, giving him sweet, puppy dog eyes.

“ah—darlin’,” he sighed, putting you down and crouching down to make you appear smaller. he took his glasses off and hung them up on his shirt, taking your hands and looking you straight in the eyes. “baby, this is real hard for me to say. i need you to be big ‘n strong for me, alright?” 

the look of worry on your face broke his heart. “the colonel says he’s sendin’ me out on another tour. daddy’s goin’ away for a little ‘while.”

you felt like your whole world was about to collapse. an ache in your chest as you realized your life was about to change up again. you loved the routine that the two of you shared. you didn’t do well when things had to change. “no.” you shook your head, “no, daddy. no.” you said sternly. 

he wished it was that easy to just say no to the colonel, but he couldn’t. he squeezed your hands again, giving you a sympathetic look. “baby–”

“no!” you pulled away from him, “change is bad, daddy! it’s bad!” you hugged yourself, shaking your head again. “y-you hafta stay! you-you’re my daddy, you can’t….no!” you dropped yourself to the floor, the waterworks already flowing down your cheeks as you began to kick your feet angrily like a helpless toddler—but that’s exactly what you were in your state of mind. he knew it too. 

elvis was at a loss for words, unsure of whether he should attempt to calm you down or to let you ride out this meltdown of yours. he got down on the floor with a soft grunt, “hey, hey. c’mon, honey–look at me, look at daddy for a sec.” he cooed softly, trying to take your hands again. your eyes met with his, full of tears and sadness. almost fear, afraid that once the routine changed, everything would just go bad. 

“you remember the last time daddy went on tour?” he asked, getting a nod from you in response. “daddy didn’t leave you alone at home, did he?” 

“w-well….no…” you muttered.

“that’s right, honey. he didn’t.” the corner of his lip perked up, bringing you close to him as you leaned against his chest. he rocked you on a soothing motion, trying to calm you down to the best of his ability. “you think daddy’s gonna let ya sit at home by yourself this time around?” he shook his head, “ain’t no way, baby.”

he pet your hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to your scalp. “we always have the same routine when we go on tour, don’t we? you just gotta let daddy do what he’s gotta do durin’ the day before we can get to playin’ and snoozin’ all day.”

“b-but i won’t see you as much…” you pouted, looking off into the distance.

“i know, angel. i know. that’s the sucky part, but we get through it every time, don’t we? hm?” he kissed your scalp again, smiling softly. he turned you to face him, using his thumb to wipe the tears off your cheeks. “it took us some time to get into the routine you and i got goin’ on right now. we just gotta get back into the old one. then once tour ends, we come right back to this ol’ routine. think you can handle that?”

you sniffled, wiping your snotty nose with your sleeve as you nodded slowly. “it’s hard.”

“it is, baby. i hate it too. but we gotta do things we don’t like.” he frowned, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “can daddy get a big kiss?”

there was hesitation in your eyes, clearly grumpy and unhappy with the situation. he sighed dramatically, forcing a pout on his face. “c’mon, honey. you that mad at daddy, huh? that mean you don’t love your old man, no more?”

you gasped, “daddy!” you pecked his cheek, cupping his plush cheeks with your small hands. “i still love you, daddy! i promise! i promise!”

he chuckled softly, returning the kiss and ruffling your hair. “that’s my baby.” he grinned, “now, lets get up off this dirty floor and have a lil’ snack.”