#i threaten to eat all her food she threatens to cook ME for dinner its our favorite argument

[djsangos]

surprise me with whichever version YOU think would get me kicked out of my own apartment fastest

honestly fair why pay for anything when you live with your rich noble friend/employer who wouldnt even notice the missing money thats just smart economics

fuck yeahhh bring elliot let those sparks fly

whichever! i can probably download both versions for you.

hehe anything for a friend. plus, i'd steal his. credit card for anything. i never use my own money~

oh totally! i've heard there's a huge gay unicorn scene in Reveil.

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Family of two

Summary: …may become a family of three.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x daughter!reader, WandaNat

Warnings: none

Word count: 1230

a/n: might become a series/its own au, might not, it depends so I haven’t decided yet. Let me know what you think!

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Wanda hums to herself as she cooks Sokovian food. She is wearing a flowy dress, a neat one but not too fancy. There’s a smile on her face. Her two favourite people are meeting each other today.

“Y/N!” Wanda calls out, mixing the sauce in the pan. “She’ll be here in an hour, hun.”

Y/N, who is pacing around her room, frowns at the muffled words coming through the closed door of her bedroom. The dress she is wearing per Wanda’s request flows in the air as she turns around. It’s a sundress, baby pink with small forget-me-nots printed on it.

She isn’t excited for this dinner. In her thirteen-year-old mind, their family is already complete enough for the two of them. Of course she wants her mother to be happy, but they’ve been this way since she was born, and change is difficult.

Not answering, she huffs and sits down on her bed. The smell of the food is making her mood slightly better, it’s comforting to smell the Sokovian food that she grew up eating, as it’s usually reserved for special occasions nowadays.

For the remaining hour, Y/N stays in her room playing video games while she waits for the inevitable.

A knock comes from the front door of the house at six o’clock on the dot. Wanda sets down the food on the dining table, washing her hands quickly before going to open the door.

Outside the door stands Natasha Romanoff with the widest smile on her face. “Hi, babe.” She kisses her before being led inside. “I brought some gifts for Y/N, or bribes,” she shrugs, “whichever word fits better.”

Wanda giggles, “she’ll like you, don’t worry.” She takes out three plates from a cabinet, setting two of them on one side and the third one to the opposite side. “Y/N! Natasha is here.”

Letting out a breath, Y/N stands up and makes her way out of her room. She has a straight face as she stops in front of her mom and Natasha. “Hi.” Her voice is quiet and her gaze keeps moving.

“Hey.” Natasha keeps looking at Y/N, almost unnaturally much. “Here,” she hands her a bag, “gifts for you.”

“Oh.” Y/N takes it and looks inside. There’s a soft looking teddy bear, some chocolates, and a book she has wanted for a while. She’s bribing me, is her first thought, though she doesn’t say it out loud in front of Wanda.

Her mother is looking at her with her brows raised.

“Thanks.” She murmurs, setting the bag down on the couch before sitting down on her seat around the dinner table.

Wanda gives Natasha an apologetic look before the two women do the same. The atmosphere is treading towards uncomfortable as they all put food on their plates.

Clearing her throat, Natasha glances at Y/N. “So, your mom told me that you like theatre.” Her statement makes Y/N glance at Wanda before she nods. “Are you..in a theatre group? Or do you just prefer watching them?”

“I’m not in a group.”

“Y/N has a hard time meeting new people.” Wanda pipes in once she realizes Y/N is going to be giving short answers today.

“Mom!”

“It’s okay,” Natasha says quickly, not wanting the girl to feel embarrassed, “I do too. It’s stressful to meet new people.”

Y/N huffs, her gaze locked on her full plate as she moves the food around with her fork. “How long have you two been together?” She decides to change the subject. She doesn’t want the conversation to be about her.

“Nine months, honey.”

She nods, looking at her mom. “So, is it serious then?”

“Y/N.” Wanda gives her a warning look. “Yes, we are in a serious relationship. And I really love her.”

Her gaze move from Wanda to Natasha, her eyes squinted the slightest. “I really love your mom too.” Natasha says quickly, feeling just a bit threatened.

Y/N hums, going back to playing with her food. She doesn’t know what to think of the situation. Slowly, the table goes back to tense silence. Wanda taps her fingers against the table, her eyes hopping from her daughter to her girlfriend and back.

Biting her lip, she quickly blurts out, “Natasha owns a motorcycle.”

Natasha furrows her brows as she looks at Wanda, who is giving her a look to start talking. “Uhm, yeah? I have a motorcycle.” She mumbles, unsure about where Wanda was going with this.

Squinting her eyes, Y/N lifts her head to look at Wanda. “You think that motorcycles are death machines.”

“Yes..but you think they’re cool.”

“You do?” Natasha smiles when Y/N nods. “That’s great. Maybe you can test ride it someday?”

Her eyes widen in subtle excitement, though Wanda squashes it down right away. “Absolutely not!” She sends a warning look to both Y/N and Natasha.

“When she’s older, I mean.” Natasha corrects herself quickly.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she has a small smile on her face as she finally starts to eat the food in front of her. For the rest of the dinner, Wanda and Natasha keep most of the conversation going.

“What did you think about Natasha?” Wanda picks out a book from Y/N’s bookshelf before sitting next to her on the bed.

Y/N shrugs, laying her head on Wanda’s lap. “She’s okay, I guess.” There’s a small pause while Wanda looks for the page they last left on. They both enjoy those routine, Wanda reading for Y/N before she goes to bed, even though she thinks of herself a bit too old to have bedtime stories read to her. “I didn’t like it when you said it’s difficult for me to meet new people. It made me uncomfortable.” She mumbles.

Wanda sighs, setting the book down momentarily. “I know, baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I was just nervous and it slipped out.”

“You don’t like..talk about my personal stuff with her, do you?”

“No, of course not.” Her hand goes to Y/N’s hair, combing through it softly. “I would never tell anything personal about you without your permission, okay? It was an honest mistake.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

Wanda’s eyes are locked on Y/N’s profile, she can see the slight apprehension on her face. “Are you scared?” She whispers, her fingers moving to Y/N’s cheek, moving around with feather light touches.

“Scared of what?”

“Things changing.”

“Yeah.” Y/N swallows. She fiddles with her hands under the cover. “I’m scared you’ll love me less.”

“I could never love you less, baby.” Her hand moves Y/N’s head to a position where they can hold eye contact. “You love your friends right?And you tell them you love them.” Y/N nods.” “Does that make you love me less?”

“No.”

“Does saying I love you more make you mean those words less.”

“No.”

Wanda smiles softly, “exactly.” Her fingertips move from Y/N’s cheek to her forehead, and down her nose. “You’re still my number one priority, and always will be.”

Smiling back, Y/N nods softly, moving around so she is in the most comfortable position. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Wanda picks the book back up, and starts reading the next chapter.

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 11. The Other One

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Warnings: Cursed words. I only read it once lol Word Count: 4667 words. Author's Note: We are so close to the end. I already want to get to the grand finale, but I can only write one chapter at the time. uwu Thanks for all the support so far!

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

“Salmon or hake?” I wondered as I compared the two frozen fish. I was in the frozen section of the best supermarket in the city.  My exposed skin was cold by being exposed to the bed of ice and near the refrigerators full of snacks and fast foods. The nerves in my hands were beginning to tighten from holding the frozen packages for too long.

Ladies slowly dragging their carts through the white aisles, children crying to their mothers who already want to go home and the employees running from side to side behind me. The popular music framed my thoughts as I read the nutritional facts for each product, focusing on the grams of protein. Since I was in charge of cooking for Sukuna’s birthday, I had to choose the best products to make him the best dinner he ever had

Salmon has 20 grams of protein, 13 grams of fat and zero carbohydrates. In addition to its contribution of Omega-3, for high-performance athletes it is the ideal fish to eat, since it has a very good ratio of proteins and healthy fats. If I baked it in the oven, I was sure it would be delicious. The only problem? The famous mercury. Although, according to some studies, it is true that salmon is the fish that contains the least amount. Hake is usually its alternative, which has less fat, but the same or more amount of protein, also it digests better.

“Salmon has more potassium, selenium, and vitamin B12." A female voice interrupted my mental debate.

My eyes widened when I saw the beauty next to me. A thin and tall blonde woman. Her blonde hair was long and her bangs looked great on her. His thin eyebrows framed her big brown eyes. His tight-fitting black turtleneck shirt and high-waisted pants made her look phenomenal. It was like admiring a beautiful porcelain statue, you could easily get lost in the details of her person.

"Oh, thanks. Are you a nutritionist or something like that?” I asked curiously as I returned the hake to the bed of ice.

"I'm a jiu-jitsu coach. I never thought I would meet the Medusa Snake in a supermarket,” she joked.

I should have seen it before. Her physical build was magnificent for a jiu-jitsu fighter. Her arms were perfectly toned, and his long legs could knock down any rival with one kick. I started to envy her body.

"I was told you were Ryomen's coach, I see that you are… very close," she said as she looked directly at the bracelet that Sukuna had given me earlier this morning. That was strange.

"It is a complicated task, but I think that every day we understand each other more," I answered honestly.

"I wanted to be his coach, you know?” she told me as if nothing had happened.

Something in me set off a warning alarm. I could sense that this conversation had a double intention. Was she threatening my position? Did she know that I wouldn't be Sukuna's coach anytime soon? Was she just trying to have a nice conversation in the middle of the frozen section? She was a beautiful woman to admire, but I didn't like where this was going.

"Who are you?" I asked confused, completely breaking the flow of the conversation.

"My name is Yuki Tsukumo," she introduced herself with a smile. “This is the Yuki who sent the bracelet to Sukuna!” I thought, trying not to reflect surprise on my face, but I'm not sure if I did it. “I see he received my gift, it's a shame he didn't want to use it."

"Sukuna doesn't like receiving gifts, that's why he gave it to me,” I answered, my tone sounding more defensive than I intended.

"Thank goodness he didn't throw it in the trash," she said before taking the hake I left. "I hope he doesn't throw you away either." With that threat, she walked away, getting lost in the cereal aisle.

I just saw the beautiful woman swinging her hips away, like a poisonous viper with beautiful colored scales. I couldn't help but see the gold bracelet that rested delicately on my wrist. My gaze hyperfixed on the letters engraved on it, wondering what kind of relationship this strange woman had with Sukuna. I put the salmon in my basket and continued with my shopping in an attempt to forget the unusual conversation.

After paying for the salmon and the rest of the ingredients I would use for the special dinner, my phone started ringing. I arranged the plastic bags in one hand to get my phone out of my pants. It was Yuuji.

"Hello, Y/n!" His friendly voice sounded from the other side. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Not really. I am only going to make Sukuna’s dinner for his birthday,” I answered as I walked back home.

"Cancel that. My parents just invited me and my brothers to dinner at the restaurant they just opened in the bay.” I stopped dead and sighed. “The salmon will have to wait until tomorrow.” "Do you have a pretty dress?" he wondered out of nowhere.

"Why you ask?". I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I asked my parents if you could come. When they found out you were Sukuna's friend, they said yes.”

"Why did you do that?" I asked him, even more confused. This couldn't be good.

"Because Choso is going, duh," he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Because I was thinking about Sukuna 24/7, I had completely forgotten about Choso's existence. Yuuji still doesn't know that I like his other brother now. Plus, his parents will be there. Oh no, this can't be happening. This would be a disaster, I could sense it. Did I really have to go? My feelings churned in my chest the further I walked down the sidewalk. I stopped when I reached the crosswalk. The traffic light was red.

"I don't think this is a good idea..."

"Don't say that! It's the perfect opportunity for Choso to see you slay like the queen you are,” Yuuji lifted my spirits that I was dragging on the ground.

"Hang up the phone now!" I heard Gojo yell at him from a distance, Yuuji was still be in the gym, training with Sukuna.

"See you in the afternoon," he said goodbye before hanging up.

The light turned green, but I still couldn't cross. I stood frozen on the sidewalk, stunned by the unusual invitation. I felt lost. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go because I really like hanging out with the boys, but I was afraid to find out what my true feelings were for Choso and Sukuna. Also, I raised Choso’s hopes up. What if I didn’t like him anymore because I liked Sukuna? Thai was a mess. 

The traffic light turned red again. Why was I questioning my feelings for Choso? It's true that I liked Sukuna, but I liked Choso the moment I saw him. Sukuna had been an acquired taste from the times we've slept together. The gifts and me living with him seemed to have no meaning to him. I was in a dangerous situation, and he just wanted to protect me, right? Everything was so confusing. Maybe if I was to go to dinner, I had to find out what my true feelings were.

The traffic light turned green again.

After picking my outfit, an everything shower and doing my makeup, I was ready. It had been a long time since the last time I dressed up like a fine lady for dinner. I always have to wear sporty clothes due to work. Putting on a cute pink dress and applying a small wing eyeliner made me feel like a pretty princess. I brushed my hair in front of my large bathroom mirror while my stomach churned nervously. Seeing myself so different from how I normally look was like seeing an old friend I hadn't seen in years. As I put the brush back in its place, I noticed that I still had Sukuna's bracelet on my wrist. 

“I don't think it's a good idea to wear it today,” I thought aloud before taking it off and putting it in a jewelry box.

I went down to the entrance at the time Sukuna and I had agreed to leave. My heels echoed with every step I took. I already wanted him to see me as “the queen” that I am, Yuuji's words. I went downstairs with every intention of surprising him, but I was the one who ended up surprised. He was already there, fixing his elegant suit in front of the mirror. I never thought I'd see a man like Sukuna, who always dresses in T-shirts and shorts, wearing a sharp black suit with an ivory turtleneck sweater. This was not the cranky man I coach, this was a millionaire man with a mobster vibe straight out of a romance novel written by a woman. From the shine on his shoes to his well-groomed hair, Sukuna looked like the jackpot. 

“You look... different,” he said as he analyzed my whole body. “Of course I look different! What kind of compliment is that?!” I thought annoyed. 

“You look different too.” I told him reluctantly. 

“Are you ready to go?” He asked. I just nodded excitedly before following him out the door. 

In the nighttime tapestry of the city, the bright lights painted a surreal panorama. The asphalt shone like an ebony river, reflecting the headlights of passing cars like wandering fireflies. The city had an air of mystery and adventure. Tokyo was a place where anything could happen, where dreams came true and nightmares lurked in the shadows. The steering wheel turned under my fingers like a rudder guiding a ship through a sea of ​​metal. The roar of the engine was a discordant symphony that echoed in the silence of the night.

“How did training with Gojo go?” I asked him to get a topic of conversation.

"Everything was going well until I had to train again with the useless rookies,” he muttered in annoyance, gripping the steering wheel firmly. "Have you thought about who your replacement will be?" He asked.

"I have a few candidates in mind,” I answered. "In fact, a coach approached me when I went to the market, but she didn't give me a good vibe.”

"Why?" he asked, curious.

"I think you already know each other."

"What's her name?”

"Yuki Tsukumo." Sukuna braked the car in its tracks, making us bounce in our seats. Thank God we had our seat belts on. If we hadn’t, I would have slammed into the glass. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I exclaimed with my heart in my hand.

Sukuna didn't answer me. He squeezed the steering wheel, clearly annoyed, to park next to the curb. He took off his seatbelt to lean back on the steering wheel. Who was this Yuki Tsukumo that could make Sukuna act like this? An ex-partner? Impossible, Yuuji told me that he has never had a girlfriend. Someone he slept with in the past? I don't blame him, she's beautiful.

"You better not tell Choso or Yuuji that you ran into he," he told me after letting out a long sigh.

"Why not? Is there something I should know?” I asked him confused with the whole situation.

"She is Choso's ex-fiancée,” he answered before holding his forehead in concern.

"Oh…” I could not believe it.

Sukuna POV

I couldn't believe this blonde bitch had shown up again. Finally, when we had all left her in the past, she decided to come back for more. I clearly remembered the first time I saw that stupid girl smiling from cheek to cheek as if she were a pure soul. Choso looked so happy and proud to introduce her as his future wife. Poor asshole, he didn't know what he was getting into... and neither did I.

He still vividly remembered the night where everything turned into a shit show. The UFC had paid me the best suite in Las Vegas for my first championship fight. Sometimes I closed my eyes to return to that majestic place. Admiring the Strip, a glittering ribbon of casinos, hotels, and attractions that never sleeps, Paris's iconic Eiffel Tower twinkling with a thousand lights, and the High Roller Ferris wheel rising above the horizon like a giant lighthouse. I fucked a prostitute in the middle of the wide balcony, enjoying the panorama that stretched out in front of me.

"Sukuna!" The whore screamed my name desperately.

My hips didn't stop pounding into ramming her. Her tits were bouncing in my face and her legs were spread across the couch. I opened her ass to reach the deepest part of her being. He had paid a good amount for her, he was willing to destroy her physically and emotionally. I pulled her hair while my cock hit her cervix, her limit. I was so close to reaching the climax, ensuring my future victory... but some idiot had to ring the bell at that moment.

I was so close that I didn't care that the person would stay outside all night. I didn't care if it was Choso, Gojo, Yuuji or my parents. I was very busy. The idiot didn't seem to want to understand that I wasn't going to open it, so he kept insisting on the fucking doorbell. Ding-dong. Ding-Dong. Ding-fucking-Dong. The annoying sound made me lose concentration.

"Fuck!" I screamed before pulling my cock out of the whore. She sighed in annoyance, plopping down on the couch. "Hide in the closet or something, I'm not done with you." I told her before wrapping a towel around my hips.

"I'm going to charge you extra!" She yelled at me before following my instruction.

I straightened my towel before reluctantly opening the door. In front of me was the last person I thought I would meet. It was Yuki, Choso's guest. What the fuck was she doing here at midnight? Especially alone. From her pajamas and her slightly messy hair, I could tell she had escaped from the bed she shared with my younger brother.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked her, annoyed. "It better be important."

"I want to talk about business, can I come in?" she asked me with her usual flirtatious smile.

"No. Just tell me what you have to say so you can leave me alone,” I answered. I could already feel my balls turning blue.

"Do you kiss your mother with that filthy?" she joked.

"I'm not in the mood, spit it out before I slam the door in your face," I blurted out. It was the last warning I was going to give her.

"I noticed that you don't have a trainer who specializes in jiu-jitsu. I know you don't accept women in your gym, but if you allow me to be part of your team, I can…".

I couldn't help but laugh in her face, cutting her off completely. Did she just interrupt my good luck ritual to offer herself as my trainer? I knew she was a jiu-jitsu trainer at a local gym, but I never thought she had the balls to ask me to recruit her. Couldn't she do this another day or in the morning? Why right here when Choso is surely sleeping peacefully thinking that she is by his side? Was this shit serious? There were so many questions about her behavior that I could only laugh.

"I don't see what's funny about it," Yuki said, crossing her arms.

"Then you have a terrible sense of humor," I answered. "Is that all you have to tell me?"

"I'm sure I'm a better fighter than you, I could kick your ass if I wanted to," she said annoyed.

"I want to see you try," I said. “She wouldn't dare,” I thought for sure.

Well, she dared. She attacked me by surprise with a kick to the abdomen. I lowered my arm, preventing it from connecting completely, but it did hit my side. I couldn't defend myself well while just having a towel on. One wrong move and I was already naked. I backed away out of inertia, allowing her to enter the suite. She jumped at me to continue hitting me.

"Bitch!" I screamed while covering my private parts.

"I'm going to show you that you need me on your team!" she shouted with a smile on his face.

"I don't want anyone else on my team!" I exclaimed.

How the hell did we get to this situation? I wasn't sure, but I had to do something about it. She pulled and punched me, trying to take me down like any jiu-jitsu fighter would do. She launched another kick at me, this time I evaded it in time, but she broke a lamp in the process. I was debating in my mind whether I should knock her out with one punch. I could not do it. Even though she was crazy, she was Choso's fiancée. My first option was to call one of my brothers or someone saner.

"Just think about it seriously, with my brain and your muscles I could make you a millionaire in less than you think," she told me excitedly.

So she was after the money. Which is normal… but that didn't explain why she was acting so secretive. Why didn't she tell Choso he wanted a job on the Team Black? There was something else she wasn't telling me. I entered the master bedroom as quickly as possible without exposing my cock to grab the phone, but she ended up cornering me against the closet before I could get to it. At the sudden knock, the prostitute screamed.

"Who is it?" Yuki asked me confused.

"I didn't know he had a wife!" The whore screamed opening the closet door. “Oh no,” I thought. "Please don't hit me!" The poor girl yelled as she fled the scene.

"Hey! We're not done yet!” I yelled.

And as if fate was mocking me, I dropped the towel. I was in the middle of a teenager's worst nightmare. Yuki shamelessly looked down, making this more awkward than it already was. By this point I was praying that this was a bad taste prank. I just wanted Yuuji or Gojo to come into the room with a camera in hand, mocking my reaction, but that never happened.

"Nice girl you hired," she laughed at me. And just when I thought this was only going to get worse, I heard the voice of my potential savior.

"Sukuna!" I heard Choso's voice from the door as he rang the doorbell as if his life depended on it.

"You worried your future husband," I told her before pushing her to let go, so I could put the towel back on.

"Hire me or I'll tell Choso I cheated on him with you," Yuki threatened me.

"What?!" I asked him, frowning at the tremendous bullshit she just said.

That's when it hit me. Yuki came to ask me for a job without Choso because she is only with him for convenience. She's only with him to blatantly get close to me. Since I don't accept women in the gym, this was his solution to get to me. I should have seen it before. I remember how at dinner with our parents he spent the time talking about jiu-jitsu and the UFC, sharing his extensive knowledge on the subject. Everyone was delighted with her, but she drove me crazy. 

"Are you that desperate for money?" I asked him, not believing what was happening.

"You don't have much time,” Yuki crossed her arms as the ringing continued.

"Sukuna!" Choso exclaimed again.

"I trust Choso, he is not stupid enough to fall for something like that."

End of Sukuna POV

"Choso was stupid enough to fall for that,” Sukuna blurted out after recounting the tragedy that happened that day. "He knew about my lucky ritual and to this day he still thinks I fucked his fiancée," he said as he looked towards the car in front of us.

I was just listening to him while Sign Of The Times by Harry Styles was playing on the radio. We were still parked so that Sukuna could tell me in great detail what had happened with Yuki and Choso. It was a hard story to believe. A woman interrupting his suite in the middle of his lucky ritual and then threatening to break off his relationship with his brother over a measly coaching job is not something you hear every day.

"I tried to explain to him several times what happened, but he never wanted to listen to me. Then he told Yuuji and since that idiot doesn't know how to shut up, everyone in the gym knows,” he explained. "It's an absurd story, I know, but…".

"I believe you," I told him before he could finish his sentence.

"You do?" he looked at me, confused.

"Why are you surprised? I believed you when you told me about your lucky ritual.” I said. "Is it a strange story? Yes, but we are a team. If you tell me the sky is pink, I believe you. If you tell me that pigs fly, I believe you. If you tell me that Yuki Tsukumo is a son of a bitch, I'll believe you.”

Sukuna smiled at my response. He looked relieved, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I smiled back at his reaction. Sukuna always has been honest with me, I had no reason to doubt him. Even though I had little time left as his coach, I planned to continue by his side. I don't know if it was the sad story or my feelings towards him got in the way that made me take off my seat belt to reach him. He didn't know what exactly was going through his mind, but whatever it was, he needed a hug.

My body felt light when he reciprocated the gesture. Our bodies melted in the warmth of the moment. His hands traveled down my back to press me closer to his broad chest. I would have liked to stop time to stay here all my life. Maybe Sukuna didn't like me back, but I knew I someone important to him, and I was happy with that.

The luxurious restaurant at the Grand Palace Hotel had an elegant atmosphere with high ceilings, panoramic windows and sparkling chandeliers. Sukuna and I made our way among the tables covered with white tablecloths and velvet chairs that invited guests to delight in an exquisite menu. In the distance, we saw his family. They were happy to see us, but they were also clearly disappointed for arriving 20 minutes late. Everyone looked elegant and sophisticated, especially Choso. He always looked good, but today he looked phenomenal in his gray suit and white shirt. He greeted me with a smile on his face as soon as we approached the table.

"You look beautiful,” he complimented me. My heart skipped a beat with happiness. “Are you watching, Sukuna? This is how you give a compliment,” I thought with blushing cheeks.

"I thought I raised you to always be on time," the mother scolded Sukuna.

According to Yuuji, Kaori Itadori was a highly sophisticated and strict mother. She has always focused on giving his children the best education so that they would grow up to be strong men and providers. An extremely traditional and Catholic woman. She sounded like the worst mother-in-law you could have.

"There was a lot of traffic," Sukuna answered reluctantly as we sat at the table.

Choso helped me, pulling my chair like a perfect gentleman. I was so nervous having him so close, since Yuuji gave me his seat, so I could sit next to him. My mind was at peace realizing that I still liked Choso a lot.

"At this time? The report says that the streets are quite clear,” his mother challenged him.

"Honey, it was only 20 minutes. You're going to scare his girlfriend away,” her husband, Jin Itadori, told her. He was like any dad, pretty chill and care free. 

"She is not my girlfriend. She's my coach,” Sukuna clarified, starting to get annoyed.

"But you live together," his mother said.

"You live together?" Choso asked me confused. “Oh no,” I thought. I had barely arrived, and I already wanted to go home. I had a feeling this woman was going to try to embarrass me in any way possible the rest of the evening.

"It is a long story," I said, trying to cut the tension.

"You see, Sukuna kicked his ex's ass. This ex almost raped her in the past, so Sukuna offered her to live with him so she would feel safe,” Yuuji explained the situation.

"Yuuji!" Sukuna and I scolded him.

"I'm just trying to help!" Yuuji defended himself.

I wanted to die. Yuuji just told the whole table my life trauma as if it were the plot of a movie he watched on Netflix. I hid in my hands from shame, praying that the earth would swallow me whole.

"I'll take a smoking break," Choso said before getting up from the table to retreat to the balcony.

"Is it necessary to ask those kinds of questions now?" Sukuna asked his mother, already annoyed.

"You know what I think about concubinage," His mother reproached him, disappointed.

"We're not a couple. We just work together.” Sukuna rolled his eyes.

"Besides, Y/n likes Choso, don’t you?" Yuuji asked me to make his mother stop bugging me with questions about my relationship with her son.

"I need fresh air," I excused myself to get out of there as quickly as possible.

I knew this was a bad idea from the start. I should have said no to Yuuji. I went out to the balcony to breathe deeply and admire the view of the city. I looked at Choso to explain what was happening. I found him smoking on the other side of the balcony, just as he had told us. He looked so elegant and mysterious in front of the pretty city lights. A beautiful contrast between brightness and darkness.

"Long time no see," I greeted him, approaching him.

"Does Sukuna treat you well?" He asked me, ignoring my greeting. It seemed like being straightforward ran in the family.

"I can not complain," I answered honestly. "Sometimes he's a jerk, but you already know that," I joked. He smiled with the cigarette between his lips.

"I know… very well," he said as he blew the smoke into the wind, being careful not to blow the smoke in my face.

"Does it bother you that I live with him?" I asked him worried.

"Of course not, I just didn't expect it," he answered. "Yuuji told me that you're going to quit soon, is that true?" I was happy to see that he was treating me as always.

"That's right, I'm very excited to return to the gym with my team," I explained with a smile.

Choso despite having some similarities with Sukuna, he was so kind in comparison. His voice was sweet, his touch was pleasant, and his words filled me with joy. My heart moved every time he spoke to me. In the end, I realized that I still liked him, and I was very happy that it was that way. He was my ideal man.

"Are you still thinking about calling me when you become the protector again?" He wondered with a thread of hope. My cheeks blushed redder as I listened. I had already forgotten what I had said to him that night at the bar.

"You know it," I answered him with a smile.

Next →

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Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates @00frenchfries00 @crowned-gemini @alialucille @azuremyst99 @azuremyst99

[sunwoowrites]

Dense.

Y/n x Bang Chan

Fem!reader

angst.

TW- mention of food.

part 2

"Chris" you called out for the hundred time opening the door to the bedroom. "can you please come and eat dinner, you've been at it for hours on end." He groaned and turned his swivel chair round to look at you. His face scrunched in annoyance and his fingers massaging his temples.

"I. said. that. I'm. not. hungry. y/n." he said as if it were the worst thing to reply to you. "Chris, you have to eat, how many times must I tell you that. You need food in your system. What you're doing, its unhealthy." He removed his headphones chucking them onto his table causing you to flinch.

"Exactly y/n." He said losing every ounce of patience. "How many fucking times are you going to tell me that. If you told me before and I gave you an answer couldn't you just take a hint goddammit. It's like you're so fucking dense nothing gets through that thick skull of yours. Y/n. Do you have to be up my ass the entire day I'm at home?....and you wonder why I'm at the studio so often. "

He huffed out the last bit but you heard him loud and clear. His words were like daggers to your heart. Your grip on the door handle loosened and you stepped back. Without thinking you shut the room door, grabbing your purse and your keys. You looked at the dinner table that you had set hours ealier for dinner. Now cold. You sighed. "I'll get out of your ass. You dickhead." you mumbled leaving your shared apartment, your heart heavy as tears threatened to fall. A lump in your throat and a heavy weight on your heart.

Hours later Chris sighed, standing up to make a cup of coffee. He opened the room door. The apartment filled with silence. Chris frowned. He walked to the kitchen, stopping when he saw the table. Food set out neatly into plates. His favourite home cooked meal. Cold. He looked around the lounge. Where did you go? Keys gone. Coat gone. He immediately went to check the bathroom. Then the spare bedroom. Gone.

Panic began to rise in him. He looked at the clock. 2:55 am. He went back into the bedroom, grabbing his phone repeatedly calling you. His hands shook. No. no. no. Surely you didn't take him that seriously. Right? He inhaled and exhaled trying to stay calm. She'll be fine. She's going to be okay. Everything's okay Chris.

He was scared. He didn't mean it. He really didn't mean it. Your presence didn't annoy him. In fact without you there he wouldn't be able to function really. Yes he stays at the studio for long periods of time. But the pictures of you that he stuck to his computer is what comforts him. When he has too much work to do and when he feels like his drowning. The spare bottle of perfume, your perfume that he keeps in his backpack. The scent that reminds him of you, thats what keeps him grounded.

He sniffled. What if you didn't come back. And it was all his fault. He couldn't hold his tongue. He just had to ruin everything. I hurt her. "The number you have dailed is not available please try-" He groaned. "Please please please" He chanted as he texted you. "I'm so sorry." He cried.

The door opened and you walked in, throwing your keys in the dish. You sighed. Chris ran out of the room and pulled you into a hug. "Y/n. Y/n. Y/n." He cried. You pushed yourself out of his hold. "The fuck Chris." He flinched and sniffled. "I'm so so so fucking sorry." You sighed. "As you should be." You mumbled walking to your bedroom. "Y/n please can we talk." You paused turning around. "Please give me space. We can talk in the morning. I don't wanna see you right now." Your throat tightened and you bit your lip holding in your tears.

You walked into the room closing the door behind you. Chris sat down at the table, shoulders slumped and tasted some of the food. Tears rolling down his cheeks. Its delicious. He choked out a sob. Sniffling and eating quietly. I didn't mean to hurt you. I promise I'll be better. I need to be better. I need to be better for her. I can't lose you y/n.

[solarisstyles]

MS.HONEY: MS.HONEY'S BIRTHDAY

Pairing: Harry Styles x F!Reader Word Count: 2.3k+ Warnings: tooth rotting fluff!, kissing, relationship developments Summary: It takes a village to raise a special needs child. Gemma's son is growing up and starting kindergarten in the fall. Uncle Harry is struggling with not being able to spend all day, everyday, with his nephew who he's grown quite attached to. When he accompanies Gemma and Arlo on his first day of school, he meets Ms.Honey. Harry decides Kindergarten might not be so bad after all. A/N: For the sake of the story, Gemma and Harry live in the states. I know more about the school system in America than the UK so it just made sense! This story is not meant to be a 100% depiction of what a family of this dynamic is like. Harry and Gemma Styles are very real people and are only being used for fictional purposes!

*please like and reblog to help your local fic writers*

The weather was truly in your favor today. A soft breeze, bright blue sky, the birds were happily chirping and flying back and forth between the trees and your bird feeders. It was what you would describe as your idea of a perfect day. Laid out in your hammock, you had your eyes closed as you listened to the songs the birds would sing for you, and enjoyed the cool breeze against your face. The sun was starting to set and the air had that summer-like chill to it when you decided to head inside. 

Grabbing a microwavable dinner from your freezer, you popped it into the microwave to cook. While the microwave worked its magic, you grabbed your phone to see what calls or texts you’ve missed while outside today. You weren’t shocked to see a missed call from Harry along with several texts.

Harry: When were you going to tell me your birthday was next week?

Harry: If you think we aren’t doing anything to celebrate you’re crazy!

Harry: Woman, call me back so I can make birthday plans for you!!!!

You could imagine how flustered he must have been right now waiting for you to reply to him. The teasing part of you wanted to make him wait a little longer but the soft side of you that Harry occupied had you calling him back without a second thought. As if he was looking at his phone, just waiting for it to ring, he answered on the second ring.

“About damn time!” He greeted you.

It made you laugh, shaking your head fondly, “Sorry, I was laying in my hammock all afternoon and I didn’t have my phone with me.”

Harry took a moment to envision you laid out and enjoying the beautiful weather today. He wished more than anything he was there to enjoy it with you. “Fine, you’re forgiven. But next time I won’t be so nice!” he threatened.

You knew he wasn’t being serious though. You could tell by the goofy voice he put on when he said it. “So who snitched about my birthday?” you asked, curious.

“We, technically the school, but Gemma called me and told me. So let’s blame Gemma.”

“That darn Gemma.” you decided to play along.

“Right? An absolute menace to our society. She must be stopped!”

“Well you’re her brother…so wouldn't that make you just as much of a menace?”

“Do you think I’m a menace?”

“Yes.”

“WELL I NEVER.” He exclaimed, making you laugh once more. He always knew how to tickle your funny bone.

“I’m only half joking.” you promised, grabbing your food out of the microwave and stirring it up.

“Well Ms.Jokester, what do you want to do for your birthday?” He asked, making himself comfortable on his own couch while he talked to you.

“Well considering I’ll be working, nothing really.” sitting down at your dining room table, and putting him on speaker phone so she could sit comfortably and eat.

“You’re working on your birthday? That’s lame! What about next weekend then? We could do something.”

It was endearing how much he wanted to spend your birthday together, but you couldn’t ignore the knot of guilt in your stomach thinking about it. “Harry, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“I know you want to wait till after Arlo’s graduation to date and I respect that. We can hang out as friends though, right? Is that allowed?”

Thinking over his words, you felt the knot loosen in your stomach. “I guess you’re right.” you said, pushing your food around the plastic container. “I just don’t want either of us to get in trouble.”

“I know Honey. I’m sorry that it has to be like this right now. I still want to show you how special you are and celebrate your birthday. Even if that means we have to sit on opposite sides of the room to do it.”

Smiling at your food, you couldn’t help but blush, “well that’s really sweet of you.” taking a deep breath, you breathed out, “Fine, I’ll bite and let you celebrate my birthday with me.”

“A splendid choice!” Harry exclaimed. “What would the birthday girl like to do?”

You pondered the idea for a moment. What you really wanted to do might be too boring for his taste. You couldn’t think of anything else though. “Honestly, I want to stay in. How about we get sushi, stay at mine and spend the evening watching a movie?”

Harry hummed, “If that’s what the birthday girl wants, it’s what the birthday girl gets.”

“Really? You don’t think that’s too boring?” you asked, feeling uncertain.

“Honey…” Harry softly said, “Listen, if it’s with you then I’m going to have a great time. If that’s what you want to do then I’ll do it. And if you must know, that’s my ideal type of evening. So, I’d be more than thrilled to do it with you. I promise.”

You smiled at the phone, “Thanks Harryy. You’re the best.”

“You only deserve the best. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Enjoy the rest of your relaxing evening.”

“You too.”

- - - - - - - - -

The day of your birthday was a total blurr. Even though you were working, the day flew by with flying colors. Your students brought in small hand made gifts for you that just melted your heart. You promised all of them that their work would be proudly displayed at your home to always remember them by. 

While the kids were at lunch, you had a special delivery again from Nancy. She came to your classroom with an arm full of flowers and a box of chocolate covered strawberries. “Mr.Honey has done it again.” Nancy said in a teasing tone. 

You giggled, taking the gifts from her, “He’s too good to me.” you told her.

“You’re dating right?” Nancy asked.

Setting the case down on your desk along with the box of strawberries, you sighed softly, admiring the flowers. “No, I told him we couldn’t date till Arlo graduated.”

“What?! Why?!” Nancy exclaimed, looking at you with a dumbfounded expression.

You returned the look with a confused one, “I’m not allowed to date the family of the students in my class.”

Nancy brought her palm to her face and shook her head, “Oh, Honey that’s only for parents. You won’t get in trouble if you date him.” laughing at the shocked look on your face.

“Well then, he’ll be very happy to know that.” you said, giving a shocked giggled back to her.

“Happy birthday to you.” she teasingly sang to you with a wink, walking out of the room.

You couldn’t wait to surprise Harry on Saturday with this new found information.

- - - - - - - - -

When Saturday arrived, you were up early and stress cleaning, even the parts of your home that you knew Harry wouldn’t see or care about. It had to be perfect. Nothing could go wrong. By the time midafternoon rolled around, you were collapsed on the couch, sweaty from all the cleaning you’d done. Your phone vibrated on the coffee table next to you, making you groan as you reached for it and swiped to answer the call. “Hello?” you breathed out.

Harry chuckled through the phone, “You sound like you ran a marathon.”

“I basically did. I’ve been cleaning all day.”

“Perfect, I’m gonna mess it all up now.” he teased.

“I’ll have to hurt you.” you laughed softly.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time babe.” making your heart skip a beat. “I’m getting the sushi now and going to grab a few more snacks from the store. I should be heading your way soon.”

“Good, I’m starving.” you groaned. “I’ll see you in a little bit. Drive safe.”

“Will do Honey.”

After you hung up, you had to force yourself to get off the couch and go shower. As much as you hated it at first, the hot water was welcoming to your aching back. You were super glad at this point that you decided to spend the night in. When you got out of the shower, the cool air made you feel more awake and refreshed. 

Picking out your cutest pair of pajamas, you figured you might as well stay comfy if you were gonna spend the evening watching movies. Throwing your hair into a messy bun, you gathered all the fluffy pillows off your bed and brought them to the living room.

You arranged them on the floor so the two of you could comfortably sit together. Moving the coffee table to the side, you even grabbed a few fluffy blankets to lay out and use if you wanted to.

“Ooo wine!” you hummed to yourself as the idea popped in your head. Going to the fridge to get the bottle out, you were interrupted by a knock on your door. Setting the bottle on the counter, you jogged over to the door and opened it to see Harry’s bright smile and sparkling eyes. “Happy birthday!” he cheered, walking in as you made room for him through the doorway.

A soft giggle could be heard from you as you watched him trapease his way to the living room, dumping the bags on the makeshift blanket pallet you made just moments ago. Turning to see you’d followed him, he wrapped you in a hug, picking you up and spinning you around. You couldn’t help but squeal with laughter, tucking your face into his neck as you held onto him tightly.

Gently setting you down, he leaned his forehead to your own, looking into your eyes. “I’ve missed you.” he whispered.

“I’ve missed you too.” you told him, playing with his curls gently at the nape of his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, which he eagerly returned.

“How about we eat and start a movie? I’m starving.” rubbing his hands along your sides gently, rubbing just low enough to drive you crazy.

You nodded, “I like that idea.” you breathlessly said, “Let me go grab the wine from the kitchen.”

Letting you go reluctantly, you were quick to retrieve the bottle along with two wine glasses. “I hope you like red.”

“I love it.” he assured, setting out your sushi in front of you while you poured both of you a glass.

“What movie did you pick to watch first?” he asked, accepting the glass when you handed it to him. 

“Rose Red.” you proudly said, taking a sip of your wine.

Harry hummed in approval, “Stephen King. Excellent choice.”

It was indeed an excellent choice. By half way through the movie, Harry and you were cuddled together, bellies full of good food and beginning to feel a little tipsy from the wine. 

You quickly discovered with Harry that he loved to talk during films. Which was perfect since you enjoyed it as well. While he would critique the film’s small details, you would make off handed comments about the characters and how stupid some of them were. Harry was amused when you would go on a random tirade about a stupid decision one of the character’s made. “For somebody who likes this movie you sure are yelling at it a lot.” Harry noted, giggling.

“I do like it! It’s just fun to yell at it too.”

“It’s cute.” Harry mumbled, pulling you closer into him.

Looking up at him, and him looking down at you, made you not want to wait any longer. “Harry…I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” he asked, feeling a little nervous.

“Nancy brought me the flowers and strawberries as you know. Well she asked if we were dating. I said no and she asked me why like I was crazy.” You giggled, thinking back to her facial expression. “I told her I wasn’t allowed to date my students' family and she told me that was only for parents. I wouldn’t get in trouble if I dated you.”

A giant smile creeped onto Harry’s face as he processed what you just told him. “Seriously?” he asked.

“Seriously.” you repeated, rubbing your nose against his own.

Pressing his lips against your own, the kiss quickly turned heated. He laid you back gently onto the pillows, positioning his body to hover above your own. This kiss showed you both the feelings you were holding back. Desperate to express through a simple gesture. “Be my girlfriend.” Harry mumbled against your lips.

“What?” you couldn’t help but giggle and smile, making him smile too.

“Be my girlfriend,” he repeated “Please.”

Looking up into his eyes, you could see the immense amount of adoration they held for you. “Yes.” you whispered. It felt right. It had to be right. They always say when you know, you know. And you were so sure in this moment that you knew. Harry couldn’t help but feel the same way.

With goofy smiles on your faces, the both of you started to giggle, feeling giddy and high from life and the happiness you brought each other. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“And we haven’t even had dessert yet.” Harry said, suddenly sitting up and reaching for a bag.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a tray of cupcakes, holding one up and putting a candle in it, lighting it with his lighter. He turned to you and began to sing Happy Birthday. You watched with a smile on your face, sitting up fully to be closer to him. Once he finished, he held the cupcake closer to you.

Closing your eyes, you made a wish then blew out the candle. “Thank you Harry. For everything.” you said, taking the cupcake. Pulling the candle out and sucking the icing off of it, you hummed happily. 

He chuckled, grabbing his own cupcake to eat. “I’d do anything to see that sweet smile.”

If only he knew your wish was for him to make you smile for the rest of your life.

TAG LIST: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @justlemmeadoreyou @squirreljoe @end-of-the-earth @behindmygreyeyes @buckybarnessimpp

[blaiddydbrokeit]

Journal, as always. TW for the usual ED related topics + calorie estimates used for evaluation and adjustments, and TW for discussion of menstrual nonsense.

Today was not a good day. I'd somehow not only managed to lose my house keys, but it seems I'll also need to work harder on my health. For breakfast I had some roti jari - basically breadstick biscuits, and some cereal with my protein milk. My aunt visited today, and had me help her with some documents.

She also cooked, but it... er. Slipped my mind that I hadn't had lunch when I was trying to rest off the odd fatigue. Being on birth control pills meant I wasn't supposed to be having periods, much less heavy enough bleeding to cause period fatigue, but here we are. This is the third pill that has done such things, and the gynae is getting concerned - three consecutive instances of breakthrough bleeds and two decidual casts has apparently escalated the case to one of the more senior doctors.

I did get hungry early, since I missed lunch, so I had dinner early to compensate - my aunt fried some prawns and an egg for me, and I cooked rice. It was paired with pork organ soup. Afterward, I had a mixed berry yoghurt before I found a spare key, and I headed out to have a walk. I walked to the mall the next town over, and stopped at the post office to buy some cartons and to ask about postage rates. My mental state was poor, and I was suffering transient psychotic symptoms again. It made me terribly jumpy and hypervigilant to the point I was becoming anxious. So I decided to go home to deposit my cartons, and retraced my route after, but only clocked 8,000 steps at that point.

I decided to go out again, this time by train to a different mall further out for a change of environment. I wandered around the different stores, and briefly considered picking up some budget store curtains to use as fabric for a sewing project, but didn't end up buying any. I kept wandering until stores started to close, before I returned home, with a little over 15,000 steps clocked for the day.

I took a shower, and had a few biscuits before I realized I was quite hungry. It had been nearly 5 hours since I ate dinner, so I fixed myself some cereal with low fat milk - it was all we had in the fridge at this point. I presently lie in bed.

It seems I've been underestimating my TDEE, and accidentally still putting myself in a bit of a deficit rather than a surplus. While I've improved a fair bit on consistency and a focus on healthy whole foods first, I still have to eat more, especially for protein and iron. I've found that my nails are extremely brittle with some having small dents or dips in them, and that it seems another two toenails are threatening to fall out entirely again. My hair is still getting finer and finer, and it's starting to become a little noticeable in plain sight, and its color is paler than before. Though thankfully, if I take photos in certain ways, and arrange my hair carefully, it can still hide it while I'm trying to pull up my nutrition.

I'll have to put in effort to eat even more - the math suggests that I need to be eating about 2,500 calories a day if I'm trying to pull my weight up since my average burned per day is just a hair over 2,000. And right now I'm only eating about 1,700 to 1,800 a day most days - I do tend to vaguely count in my head, but I do also have a bad habit of frequently overestimating by double or more for my portion sizes, so take these numbers with a grain of salt. My energy has taken a bad dip due to my period abnormalities, but I don't think my intake is quite helping my case, so I'll keep reporting on it in these journals in hopes of tracing a positive trend.

[smashtbh]

Daddy Issues

Jonathan Byers x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!

not my gif!

req: “ Hi! Me, again :) so... What if Jonathan dad finds out that his son dating with male reader, so he gets like really mad and goes to threaten the kid, but he founds him with the reader, and he gets like really mad and shit but the reader tells him to piss off and comforts Jonathan? I don't really see fic about Jonathan's daddy issues witch is actually weird i always thought that's gonna be something big for writers :o. “ — @russainweed (you are carrying my account rn ily)

oooo angsty. let’s do it. (im making this little note here after ive written this and im sorry to say i lowkey hate it lmfao)

CW: this got a lot heavier than i meant for it to, homophobia, the use of the f slur, lonnie being a piece of shit, threats of violence, lots of crying, there’s comfort i promise.

pairing: Jonathan Byers x M!reader.

he/him pronouns are used to refer to the reader.

a/n: jonathan byers is my boyfriend its canon. 😁 also just a thank you for all the support my account has been getting recently! you guys are the best.

word count: can’t check rn sorry 😭

“So… tonight?” Y/N’s voice comes through the phone, and Jonathan smiles.

“Of course.” Jonathan replies, moving the phone to his other hand. “My mom wants you over here for dinner by 6, you know how she is if you don’t show.”

There’s a sweet laughter that comes through and Jonathan sighs to himself. “I’ll be there, tell her not to worry.” Y/N says and there’s a crackle on the line.

“I’m not worrying! I know you’ll be here.” Joyce’s voice comes through, and Jonathan quickly peers his head around to see her at the other phone.

“Mooom!” Jonathan groans.

“Hi momma Joyce!” Y/N exclaims. Jonathan face palms and Y/N laughs again, listening to the annoyed mumbling. “I’ll be over, baby. See you later!”

“Kay, bye.” Jonathan hangs the phone back on its stand. He uses a hand to push through his hair and huffs a laugh.

There’s quick walking coming in his direction. “He calls you ‘baby’?” Joyce asks, with a giddy grin on her face.

“Mom.”

“You two are just the cutest.” She squeezes his cheek and walks away.

Jonathan is trying to set up the kitchen table when Joyce comes over with a box. “Forgot to tell you I found these,” she drops it on the table. “It was on top of the fridge. All the photos we took from last year’s winter break!”

She picks up and few and spreads them across the table. One of Jonathan kissing Y/N’s cheek, another of Y/N and Will trying to waltz, and more of Y/N and Joyce baking cookies.

He smiles down at the glossy pictures, filled with laughter and closed eyes. He picks one up, it’s of him and Y/N dancing in the living room as Will was bopping his head to the music. He’s trying to relive the moment in his head when there’s a loud knock on the door.

Assuming that it’s Y/N, Jonathan happily sprints to the door — the photo of them in his hand. He opens it with a stupid grin that quickly turns into a frown.

Lonnie.

“What are you — “

“Where’s your mother.” It’s more of a statement than a question, and Jonathan gets a chill up his spine.

“She’s — she’s cooking.” Jonathan mumbles, instinctively closing the door a bit. Lonnie grabs at it and pries it wide open.

“I’m starvin’.” He breathes, marching past Jonathan and towards the kitchen.

Will is sitting on the couch watching a cartoon and he immediately stiffens when Lonnie walks into the living room. “Hey, kiddo. How you been?”

Will looks to Jonathan and then back at Lonnie. “I’m fine..”

Joyce walks in and her expression is similar to Will’s. Their faces painted with similar confusion. “Lonnie? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to stop by, grab somethin’ to eat. Jonny boy over here said you were cooking.” Lonnie shrugs and starts to stalk towards the kitchen.

Jonathan looks at Will and then at his mother. Then, panic hits him.

The pictures.

God, no. Please, no. Go straight for the food you fucking bastard, please.

“The fuck is this?” Jonathan hears as he chasing after Lonnie. Too late.

He tries to come up with an excuse, but there really isn’t one when the photo that Lonnie picks up is the one of Jonathan kissing Y/N’s cheek. “My — it’s.. they’re photos.”

“No shit.” Lonnie says, venom in his voice. “Why the fuck are you kissing this guy?”

Joyce runs in and grabs the photo out of Lonnie’s hand. “That isn’t your business.”

Lonnie tries to reach for it again, but Joyce pulls her hand away in time. He swears and turns to Jonathan. “Shoulda’ known you were a fucking faggot.”

Jonathan freezes. He isn’t sure what to do. “Shoulda’ known from the moment you told me you never had a girlfriend back when you were in school.” Lonnie continues. He scoffs before adding, “You’re disgusting.”

Joyce is caught off guard by his words, and Lonnie is able to grab the photo out of her hands. He brings it to Jonathan’s teary eyed face and rips it in half.

“No! — “

“You’re disgusting.”

He drops the two pieces to the floor and Jonathan catches them midair, his tears flowing freely now. He can’t hear much, but he can tell that Joyce is telling him off — screaming at him to get out.

Jonathan runs to his room with the torn photo, desperate to fix it. His shaky hands are trying to find the tape in his desk, but he can’t bring himself to calm down.

He’s breathing hard and crying — choking on his sobs. He gives up on looking for the tape, since he physically can’t bear to do it.

He crumbles to the floor and curls into a ball. He’s sobbing into the fabric of the jacket he has on when he realizes there’s rapid knocking coming from his window.

“Let me in, Jonathan — “ He hears the voice from outside plead.

Jonathan looks up and everything is blurry and the sounds around him are warbled by his own cries, but he squints at the window.

He doesn’t know if he wants to open it though. He feels like he’d rather cry and wallow in self pity. He’s disgusting.

He sobs harder into his own shoulder when he’s suddenly picked up and cradled.

“Hey — you’re alright. Breathe, baby.”

He knows that voice, and he clutches to the body that’s holding him together. Keeping him from shattering to pieces. From being torn apart like that photo.

The body starts rocking back and forth, and Jonathan finally starts to calm down. How’d he get in? There’s a kiss placed on his forehead and he finally opens his eyes. “There you are, love.” Y/N whispers, it looks as if he was crying too — and Jonathan frowns.

“Were — “ There’s a sniffle that interrupts his own sentence, “were you crying?”

Y/N huffs a laugh, and there’s a tight smile on his face “Says you.” His face turns serious. “What happened?”

Jonathan doesn’t know where to start, so he turns over in Y/N’s arms to reach for the ripped photo. He hands it to him and bites his lip in an attempt to not cry.

“What.. who — “

Jonathan shakes a bit.

“It’s alright. Hey — see look, we can just tape it back together, or — “ Y/N reaches for the camera on the table, “we could just take another.” He smiles at Jonathan.

Jonathan smirks, Y/N feels alive again. “We could.”

I’m disgusting. He frowns.

“Why’d you do that?” Y/N asks, referring to Jonathan’s face. He cups his jaw, opening his mouth to say something — when suddenly, there’s yelling in the hall.

A loud crack comes from the door as it swings open, revealing a very red Lonnie.

“You. You’re that fuckin’ guy.” He whispers, almost to himself. Joyce is behind him, it’s almost as if you could see the steam coming from her ears.

“Leave them alone, asshole!” She yells, storming to the phone to call the police.

Y/N sets Jonathan into a sitting position against the wall. “Yeah.” Y/N says, connecting the pieces as to why Jonathan was freaking out. “I am.”

“You’re a fucken — “ Lonnie yells, but Y/N interrupts him.

“What? A homosexual?” He shrugs, “At least I’m not a fuckin’ screw up like you.”

“You better watch your mouth, boy.”

“I don’t listen to dumb fucks like you.” Y/N walks towards him, leveling his height with Lonnie. “If I were you, I’d get the fuck out of here.” He points down the hall.

“Before the police find you dead.” Y/N says under his breath.

Lonnie squares his shoulders. Y/N thinks he’s going to punch him or something, but he turns and stomps down the hall. He swings the front door open and leaves with a loud bang of it closing.

Y/N almost laughs, before remembering Jonathan is behind him. He turns and runs towards him, still slumped against the wall. He’s shaking and there’s dry tears on his cheeks.

“You’re okay.” Y/N says. “He’s gone.”

“I know. I know.” He mumbles.

Y/N sees Joyce through the window, cursing and screaming at Lonnie who’s driving off, hopefully for good.

Y/N turns back to Jonathan, who calmed down. He’s breathing evenly with his eyes closed. Y/N caresses his face, lightly tapping on him. “Sweetheart.”

Jonathan hums in response, leaning into his hand.“Why’d you come through my window?” He whispers.

“Well, you guys weren’t answering the front door. I know why now.” Y/N says, combing through Jonathan’s hair with his fingers.

Jonathan sighs.

“I love you.” Y/N suddenly whispers.

“And I love you, Y/N.” Jonathan smiles, almost giggling.

Y/N pulls Jonathan into his arms, and leans against the wall. They’re sitting there for a couple of minutes before Jonathan breaks the silence.

“Can we take the photo now?”

“Of course, love.”

Y/N grabs the camera and sits next to Jonathan. He lets Jonathan hold his face and gently kiss his cheek. Y/N takes the photo and sets the camera down, turning to kiss Jonathan properly.

“I’m keeping this one.” Y/N mutters.

“Absolutely not.” Jonathan says, snatching the photo away.

They laugh and it’s easier to breathe again.

likes, reblogs & comments are appreciated!

[nom-nom-bitch]

Can't Get Enough

//––//

Warnings: 18+!! MEN + MINORS DNI!! Stepcest, cheating, fingering, soft sex, manipulation, blackmail, praise kink, degrading kink, mommy kink, edging, overstimulation, choking, Wanda being sweet at the end and helping reader.

Summary: After a recently failed important exam, your step mother threatens to tell your father if you don't do as she says...

Words: 1.6K

DISCLAIMER: Reader is 21 in this!

//––//

The smell of chicken with mashed potatoes and peas and carrots filled the air in the house as you setted up the table for three. You, your dad and your stepmom. It was the last night that you were going to see your dad for the last time before he went on a long business trip for six months. So you and your stepmom decided to cook his favourite meal before he leaves the next morning, chicken roast!

"Dinner is served!" Wanda cheered as she placed the food on the dining table. Your father pulled a chair out for the red haired woman to sit on. "This looks lovely, my dear." He complimented before leaning to place a kiss on Wanda's lips which made you physically choke on your food.

"Can you not do that when I am trying to eat? It's disgusting." You complained as you took another bite of your food. "Oh calm your horses down Y/n, it's natural." Your dad chuckled before looking back at his wife and smiling at her. "So uh, Y/n," You looked up at your father as he called your name, "did you get your exam results back?" He asks. Oh no, you have been dreading this question since yesterday. You had two options, option A- tell the truth and say you failed with a 45%. Option B- lie and tell him you haven't gotten your results back.

"I uh- the teacher hasn't marked the exams yet." You lied, you knew lying was wrong but he should just be grateful that you aren't doing drugs. "What a surprise," he rolled his eyes, "teachers these days, they are so lazy." You chuckled nervously. "Yeah ahah."

——

When it was near the end of dinner you felt a foot slowly slide up your calf. A shiver of coldness washed over your body as you looked over at your stepmom who was just finishing up eating her vegetables. It could not have been your father because he had gone upstairs to finish packing plus he is your father, he wouldn't even dare. So that means... no. 'It can't be... Can it?' You shook off the thought of your stepmom trying to seduce you and just told yourself you were imagining things and you were going crazy, but when her foot made its way up further to the edge of your dress you couldn't ignore it. She looked at you with innocent eyes but the smirk on her face said it all.

You abruptly stood up from your seat and grabbed your plate and placed it on the side before trying to make your way to your room before she could make any further moves that would be considered inappropriate and frowned upon. Before you could even make your way out of the doorway Wanda stopped you in your tracks.

"I need to have a talk with you," Wanda said, eyeing you up and down, "Now." Her tone was demanding. You rolled your eyes as she dragged you into the dining room and shut the door behind her. "Don't give me that attitude, princess." She warned as she pushed you up against the table. "Why would you lie to my husband about the exam?" Wanda asked.

"So what if I did? What has that got to do with you?" The attitude in your voice was showing and Wanda did not like it. "It has nothing to do with me but there has to be a punishment put in place for lying." Your eyes shot up at her, you were panic-stricken. What if she told your dad? He would send you back home. "Now Y/n, I want you to do as I say. If you don't then I will tell your father the truth. Do you want that?" Your face had turned pale, you were dumbfounded as you shook your head slowly in disbelief. A part of you wanted to tell her to leave you alone but you couldn't find the words to say anything.

She leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "Go to room. Take off your clothes but leave your panties on for me. Spread yourself out for me. I'll be upstairs in a few." You could feel a pool of wetness form between your legs already as the images of your stepmother fucking you senseless filled your head.

"Yes Wanda." You nodded as you left the room. As you made your way up to your room you could hear your fathers loud snoring in which you assumed he went to sleep afetr packing.

——

A few minutes had gone by and by now you were partly naked with just your panties on with your legs spread out on the mattress as you watched the door and waited for Wanda to enter. The door handle slowly turned and you saw another the woman's slim figure, whoalso happened to have no clothes on either. "Look at you," Wanda started as she swayed her hips towards you in a seductive way, "Nice and spread out... all for me." Wanda straddled you and placed her leg between yours. She placed soft kiss on your lips before pulling away. You let out a whine as she pulled away, "Wandaaaa." You whined as you tried to grind down on her leg, already so needy for her touch.

"Nuh uh sweetheart. From now on you call me mommy, got that princess?" Her deamening voice made you feel submissive almost like you would be ready to absolutely anything for her. You nodded in response with lust and neediness in your eyes. "Use your words baby." She demanded. You swore you could feel your breath stuck at the back of your throat. "Yes, mommy." Wanda smiled at the name she asked you to call her.

"Good girl." Wanda praised as she leaned in to kiss you again, her lips tasted like strawberries and her scent smelt like roses. The two scents that you loved most. You knew this was wrong, you wnated to push her off you but your body wouldn't let you.

One of her hands slowly made its way up to thigh and ghosted over your clit. In the needy state you were in, you started to grind down on her palm causing you to moan into the kiss. She slowly pulled away and started to kiss down your neck, leaving love bites as she made her way down to your bra. Her slim fingers made their way to the waist band of you panties and slowly pulled them down as she made eye contact with you. Your chest was heaving up and down, anticipation filled you as Wanda teased.

Her finger pressed down on your clit harshly making you let out a moan. Wanda smacked her hand down to cover your mouth. "Shhh, you have to be quiet. Can you do that for mommy?" Wanda asked as she pinched your clit harshly which caused you to let out another harsh moan as you grinded down on her two fingers that were now circling your clit. "Answer me slut." Her tone was now harsh. You nodded in response and Wanda released her hand from your mouth and wrapped it around your throat. "Good girl. You're such a good girl for mommy, eh? I know that you have just been waiting for this day to come," Wanda whispered in your ear, "It feels good to hear you moan." Wanda inserted a finger slowly inside of you as bit down on your lip to muffle you moans. Your back arched as she slowly moved her finger in and out of you slowly.

"You're already such a pathetic whore, you're so needy and desperate for me and this is just the beginning." She chuckled sinfully as she inserted another finger, this time going deeper. She curled them, hitting your g-spot everytime she thrusted them in. Your heavy breathing and the sound of your juices was music to her ears.

She squeezed your throat harder as her movements became slower. You were close, your muffled cries of pleasure were enough to give Wanda the signal that you were close. "Hold on for a little longer for mommy. Come on baby you can do this." Wanda ordered in a soft tone as she released her hold on your throat. A tear fell down your cheek. "I- I can't take anymore mommy. It's too much. Please let me cum." You cried. Wanda however was having fun with this. "No, you're my toy so I get to make the commands." Wanda smirked as she began to imprint more hickeys into your neck.

In what felt like ages of Wanda edging and teasing you, you couldn't hold back any longer, you felt like you were about pass out. Your hair stuck to your face as you sweated so much, you breathing was erotic and the louder you moans and whines became, the harder it became to hold them back. Wanda could tell you were becoming more and more tired at the second, she could tell you couldn't hold it back any longer.

"Come on baby, cum. Cum for mommy like the pathetic dumb whore you are." Wanda demanded, the order and the names you came undone with a loud cry of her name and a silent gasp. Wanda helped you ride out your high as she stared down at the beautiful sight in front of her.

"Good little slut. Mommy loves you so much." She said as she removed her fingers from your pussy and placed them in her mouth. She hummed at the taste of you. Your eyes fell heavy as you let out a silent yawn. "No sleep yet, we have to get you cleaned up sweetheart. I'll go and run a nice warm bath. We can both get it. Yeah?" You nodded at the thought of Wanda taking care of you, washing your hair for you and being so gentle and caring with you.

[imaginedreamwrite]

“Thanksgiving dinner/celebrations”

Hi! How big is Alpha Ari’s pack & what would their thanksgiving dinner look like? He’s a chef so I’m sure it would be spectacular! With Sweet Pea decorating bc we all know her cooking isn’t the best. Ha

“Sweetpea,” Ari turned back to you, your position seated crossed legged on the counter making the giant werewolf crack a grin, “I have something for you to try.”

The entire house was filled end to end with invigorating and hunger-inducing aromas of food being prepped. Ari had told you early on when he invited you to the pack’s estate that he was going to be busy cooking for the pack’s annual thanksgiving feast. You had attempted to deny coming over because you didn’t want to bother him. However before you could even begin to say no, your guard had showed up at your door to escort you over.

“You cook for a living, and you’re still cooking now?” You unfurled your legs and leaned into Ari, parting your lips to taste what was on his fork.

“Cooking…like sex,” Ari’s husky voice filled your ears as spices and flavours burst on your tongue, “can be incredibly pleasurable.”

“That is so good!” You groaned and hummed after his delicious morsel had been swallowed. “That is incredible!”

“Pleasurable,” Ari brushed his lips against yours as he spoke, hands resting high on your thighs, “and delicious. Do you wanna know a secret, my little luna?”

“A secret?” You muttered, captivated by the warmth exuding from his chest and hands. “What secret?”

“The taste of you on my tongue…” Ari cupped your chin with one hand, and tilted your head up. “…inspired a few of my favourite dishes.”

“The taste of…?” You were momentarily confused, and then a tidal wave of heat and desire slammed into you. “Me? Like my…”

“You’re so sweet, luna.” Ari trailed his lips down your jaw to your neck, nipping at your flesh and growling when you bucked your hips. “Sweetpea, I’m fucking addicted to you.”

“I inspired…food?” You whimpered and whined, turning to putty in his hands.

“My favourite food,” Ari confirmed and had only started to pull away when the front door opened and footsteps were heard through the foyer, “guests are arriving.”

“Guests?” You wondered; dazed.

“Ari Levinson,” a woman’s voice scolded and your werewolf boyfriend had chuckled under his breath and stepped away from you, “it’s a wonder the poor girl can breathe with you always in her space.”

“Hi ma,” he kissed her cheek and sidestepped her gentle smacks, “nice to see you too.”

“Y/N, darling…” you’d only met his mother once before, and upon the first meeting she’d greeted you like you were old friends. “You look beautiful. Is Ari treating you well? Giving you enough to eat?”

“Trust me ma, she’s getting enough.” Ari chuckled under his breath and winked at you, that certain look in his eyes.

“Ari, don’t be rude.” His ma scolded and threatens him with a pointed finger. “I was talking to your luna.”

“Its fine, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” You waved off the suspicion, getting a hit of amusement from Ari, watching him jump when his mother smacked his shoulder with a wooden spoon.

[sebastiansluts]

Lance “Mom Fucker” Tucker.

Lance has a promising young student who’s mother has to discontinue lessons because she lost her job. Lance says she’ll be ruining her daughters chance at a medal, and lays it on thick. Finally she asks him if she could do any work for him, to trade off for the lessons. She offers to be the gym janitor, but they have one. Lance stares at her hard and is about to suggest she fuck him in trade, but she desperately offers to cook him dinner every night— and he grimaces and drops it. This mother is squeaky clean, he knows she won’t go for his suggestion. He’s about to turn her down until her daughter sees her and runs over to her, hugging her leg. He really shouldn’t give up on his best student, she can make him great again by winning gold one day. So he relents and agrees to her proposal.

He comes over every night, same time, to eat a home cooked meal. Even though he is uber picky about whats on the menu and how its cooked, the mother is relieved that she’s helping her daughter. She takes his many critical comments to heart, thankful to him for even allowing this trade. Lance being a manipulative prick, sees how far he can push her. Starts with getting her to massage his shoulders, then neck, arms and legs. She ignores his semis in his pants, until one day she’s massaging his inner thigh, as he prompted her to do, because now he’s completely hard, and big and pointing directly at her face, within inches. She pulls away and moves to stand and he pulls her hand back to him, and she says it wasn’t part of the trade. He tells her that her food is lackluster and her company boring, so he’s changing the rules. Now he wants one blowjob to go with the meal; while he’s eating, or after. He reminds her that her daughters competition is in two weeks. She hates him, but she gets down on her knees. Lance is surprisingly gentle. But he knows its all according to plan, and that he’s going to ramp it up and get rougher as it continues.

When the daughter wins the competition and the finals loom, he changes the rules again, this time he wants to fuck her. Again, at first he’s gentle, but as it goes on he gets rougher, more crass, more degrading to her. He punishes her for perceived flaws now, she baked the chicken not broiled it, she didn’t cook the vegetable that he wanted, etc. so he can push her into more sex acts.

She finally tells him No to anal, so he puts her on her knees and pisses down her throat, making her keep a full mouth of his piss in her mouth until he is done fucking her ass and has cum on her face.

Lance Tucker x Reader; non!con, piss kink, piss drinking, rough anal sex, facial

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON’T LIKE, DON’T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

"Lance I said no, it's not happening," you said firmly.

Lance's face turned ugly in anger, and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to your knees. He kept one hand on your shoulders, keeping you pressed down, his other hand shoving down his track pants and pushing his soft dick into your mouth. He began pissing, holding you still, forcing you to drink.

"Fucking take it bitch, you're gonna keep it all in your mouth you hear me? I'm gonna fuck your ass anyways, and you're gonna have a mouthful of piss while I do so. If you swallow it before I'm done, I'll beat your ass til you can't sit for a week straight, and your daughter will never get to finals," Lance threatened. You nodded, his dick falling from your full mouth, rapidly hardening at the sight of you on your knees.

"Get on the bed, ass up, head down," Lance ordered, and you hurried to obey, scared to anger him further. You got into position, eyes watering at the taste in your mouth and the humiliation of what you were doing.

Lance pulled some lube out of his pocket, slicking up his fingers and shoving two into your asshole right away, nearly making you choke on the piss in your mouth. You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from spraying it everywhere as you held back a scream, the feeling so foreign and strange.

"Such a fucking tight ass, can't believe you weren't gonna let me fuck this." Lance was quick, stretching you efficiently but fast, suddenly slicking up his cock and pushing in, not stopping until he had bottomed out. "Look at you slut, taking a whole dick in your ass, you've finally reached your true potential whore."

Lance thrust quickly, laughing when you came without warning, moans muffled. "Pathetic, you say you don't want it, then you're coming in minutes, you sluts are all the same."

He fucked you hard, not slowing down at all, forcing you through a second orgasm, this one making you squirt around him. He pulled out and twisted you around til you were on your hands and knees in front of him, cheeks bulging with piss. He groaned and jerked his cock, coming all across your face.

"Now you may swallow," Lance sneered, smirking when you did so, shuddering. "Better not wash that face til I leave. I wanna see my work."

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

And rounding out our ladies: "speaking in code" for Carrie??

- 🐸

Sorry, y'all, I'm a few days behind. Hoping to catch up (and maybe even get ahead if I can help it) today. Enjoy! This takes place pre-possession (probably pre-canon ngl, though not by much). Tw for mentions of disordered eating/names of eating disorders.

Also happy 2 year anniversary to JATP!

Send me prompts! (I need like 9 more to round out the month).

Carrie’s phone buzzes as she’s taking off her makeup in the bathroom mirror.

She tosses her all-organic makeup wipe in the wastebasket and grabs her phone from its charging port on the counter.

It’s a text from Nick: Ring Ring.

Carrie rolls her eyes, gritting her teeth to curb the blush that threatens to pinken her cheeks, even though no one can even see her and it’s stupid to be embarrassed about being embarrassed.

It’s just that Nick’s coded texts are always so dumb. “Ring Ring” is supposed to symbolize a dinner bell, and it’s Nick’s way of asking if Carrie’s eaten yet without sounding like her babysitter.

Kitchen’s closed, she texts back— her own code for not hungry so leave me alone— and goes back to scrubbing glitter off her face.

Barely a minute later, her phone rings— FaceTime, from Nick.

“Ugh,” Carrie mutters. She does not want Nick to see her right now— bare-faced and puffy from the makeup remover, her hair pulled back and off her forehead with a flowery bandana Rose Molina gave her. But she can already see the screenshot he’ll send her— his own face, pouting, under the “FaceTime Not Available” screen— if she doesn’t pick up, so she just makes sure to point the camera at the ceiling.

“Is it a McDonald’s day or do I need to bring something over to cook?” Nick says as soon as the call connects.

Carrie leans closer to the mirror to make sure she’s getting all the mascara off. “Hello to you, too, Nicholas,” she says faux-brightly. “Did you not see my text, or…?”

“No, I saw it.” Nick’s voice is a little muffled, like he’s chewing on something; Carrie glances over at her phone screen, but all she can see is a moving sky and treeline. He must be walking. “I’m just not an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“Kitchen can’t be closed, Care. You had a voice lesson before school, dance practice after school, Kayla told me you were designing Dirty Candi costumes all through lunch, and I know Greta leaves early on Fridays and there’s no way you made yourself something before beginning your elaborate post-rehearsal skincare routine. So! What am I bringing you?”

Carrie goes tense. She’s sure her face is all red and blotchy now, and her jaw already hurts from how tightly she’s clenching it, but she resists the urge to snap at Nick or hang up the phone.

It’s not that she doesn’t eat, okay? Despite the pressure of dance and Hollywood high school, and her dad’s weird psychiatric vegetarianism, she’s not, like, anorexic or anything. She just has high standards— it’s home-cooked or 5-star, except for on the most exhausting of days, on which she can manage to stomach fast food if Nick picks it up for her. That, and she’s busy. She’s constantly doing something to further her career— keeping her grades up or writing a song or perfecting a routine. She doesn’t have time to feel hungry at all, much less do anything about it.

And Nick knows that. Because Nick knows her.

Being known is… not something Carrie knows how to deal with.

“It’s not a McDonald’s day,” she says sharply, pulling her hair out of the bandana and finger-combing it into something approaching presentable. Since he’s coming over anyway… “But I think there’s leftover veggie curry in the fridge.”

“Great! I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Nick’s face appears briefly on her phone screen, too close to the camera, to smack her a kiss. “Love you!”

“Use your key, I’m not letting you in,” Carrie says before she hangs up.

And that’s sort of a code in and of itself.

For what, though, she’s not sure.

--

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @teenagedirtbag-dot-jpeg @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @julieandthequeers @joyandthephantoms @it-tastes-like-lizard @jatpfs 

[thatotherfanfic]

Chapter 1: Kazuichi Soda Is Doing Great

Contains: stuffing, hiccups, belly rubs, poor life decisions

One night in mid-September, Teruteru started bragging again. Kazuichi hated it when he did that. 

"I don't think you appreciate how special my talent really is," Teruteru said, smoothing his hair back. "My skill in cooking rivals that of the fabled fairy courts. One bite and I can make even the most temperate of men give in to his primal gluttonous nature. I can influence business dinners, political decisions…the whole future of the world, really."

From his place a few seats down, Kazuichi scoffed. He sat slumped over his plate, his beanie pulled low. "Yeah, right. It's just food."

"Just food!" Teruteru's eyes narrowed. "How dare you! 'Just food.' You're lucky I don't unleash my full power on you!"

Read on AO3

"Full power?" Kazuichi snapped. "What do you mean, full power?! You're starting to sound like that Gundham freak!"

A few seats down, Sonia cleared her throat delicately. Kazuichi slumped in on himself a little bit. 

"I do not contest that your cooking skills are most impressive," Sonia said. "You assisted in the preparation of this meal, did you not?" 

"Indeed I did," said Teruteru proudly. "Part of my education here –"

"Is to train under the chefs and hone your craft to perfection, blah blah blah, we know ," Kazuichi huffed.  

Teruteru stared at him. So did several other of his classmates. The back of Kazuichi's neck flushed. He wasn't usually this pissed off, but Miss Sonia and Gundham were pretty near eyefucking each other, and now she'd complimented Teruteru – Teruteru , the most annoying guy on earth! Why would she do that if not to spite Kazuichi personally?

"I mean, yeah, it's good shit," he said, mouth full of perfectly grilled salmon, "but it's not magic or anything. If what you said was true, we'd all look like Byakuya by now."

He gestured with his fork toward the end of the table, where Byakuya sat in regal silence. He'd already cleared eight plates, yet his white suit was as spotless as ever.

"You certainly would not," he said haughtily. "It took years of dedication to craft this body. You , of all people, could never attain its equal."

Kazuichi slammed his fork down. "What's that supposed to mean?!" 

Teruteru sniffed. "I believe he means you're a plebian with no taste. Anyway, the reason you all don't stuff yourself silly at every meal is because I haven't crafted it specifically for you. I could, if I wanted, but then nobody would ever get anything done around here."

"You could not!" Kazuichi retorted, standing up. 

"I could too," Teruteru countered.

"You could not !" 

"Guys!" Hajime broke into the conversation. He sat at the end of the table elbow to elbow with Nagito, as fucking always.

Everyone turned to look at him. Kazuichi's expression grew even more sour, if possible. "What?" he snapped.

Hajime gave him an odd look. "Um, what if instead of arguing about it, you tried it out?"

Teruteru's face lit up. Kazuichi didn't know what that meant, but he got the vague feeling that he was being threatened somehow.

"You mean, I cook for Kazuichi…" Teruteru said, stroking his chin…

Byakuya also looked intrigued. "And Kazuichi sees if he can resist your creation. A very interesting proposal."

"What?!" Kazuichi glanced from face to face. "No! Like I'd want anything he made for me personally! He might put something weird in it!"

"Scared, are you?" Teruteru taunted.

"I'm not scared!" Kazuichi shrieked. Several other students looked over. "I'll tell you what will happen! I'll eat as much as I want, and that's all. It's just food!"

A determined gleam came into Teruteru's eye. "Just as much as you want, you say?"

"Exactly!" Kazuichi gulped. "A-and not a bite more. You'll see."

Teruteru smiled. Kazuichi's stomach twisted up. "Well, well, well. I accept this challenge. Shall we meet, say, Saturday? There's a private dining room I can convince the head chef to reserve for the occasion. It's all part of honing my talent, you see."

"F-fine. Saturday. Noon," Kazuichi added, wanting to control at least part of this arrangement.

Everyone was still looking at him. He grit his teeth and pushed his plate away. 

"You'll see. You're not that special!" With that, he turned and stalked out of the cafeteria.

He heard people laughing as he left. It figured. It fucking figured.

He marched up to the first vending machine he saw, bought a Coke, and slammed it back. That's mostly what he did these days – drank Coke, ate chips, and tried not to think about the fact that he was almost halfway through his third year and he still didn't have any fucking friends.

It wasn't like he wasn't trying. In his first year, he spent every waking moment chasing after Miss Sonia, the love of his life. One fateful beach trip later, he eavesdropped on her talking to the other girls about how much she disliked him – despised him – wished he would just drop off the face of the earth and die.

That wasn't exactly what she'd said, but it was close enough. It hurt his stomach just remembering it.

And then in second year, he thought he'd made a real friend in Hajime Hinata, a reserve course student. Hajime listened to him. He let Kazuichi show him his machines. Being with him made Kazuichi feel warm inside, happy, whole. He was the best friend Kazuichi could have asked for. The only real friend he'd ever had, actually.

But this year, Hajime started hanging out with him less and less. Kazuichi stalked him to find out why, like anybody would do, and then – 

Then it turned out Nagito Komaeda – fucking Nagito Komaeda, who famously thought nobody mattered unless they were an Ultimate – had stolen Hajime from him. Hajime blew Kazuichi off at every opportunity to go hang out with that lunatic. And then –

Kazuichi's throat tightened up. He bought another Coke.

Then he'd listened in on the wrong conversation again. And he found out that Hajime hated him. Because he was annoying. And creepy and weird. And he never shut up. 

That was in July, and now it was September. He hadn't spoken to Hajime since summer break (well, except to snap at him), but his so-called friend hadn't gotten the message. And now he had the nerve to suggest Kazuichi take Teruteru up on some stupid competition?! So much for being bros.

Kazuichi drained his third soda and slammed the bottle into a recycling bin. He felt painfully bloated. Three Cokes on top of a big dinner was not a good combination. 

He burped into his fist and stalked up the stairs to the third year dormitory hallway, and if he was crying a little bit, it was only because his stomach hurt.

At least I can stick it to Teruteru on Saturday , he thought that night as he sat in bed in front of his laptop, trying and failing to get off to a woman fucking her pizza man. It's not like shit can get any worse.

On Saturday, he walked up to the private dining room feeling like maybe shit was about to get worse. 

"You ready?" cried Ibuki, looking like she was hyped up for a concert. She wasn't alone, either. Akane, Hiyoko, Mikan, and Byakuya stood outside the door, apparently lying in wait. 

Kazuichi started back. "Huh? What the fuck are you guys doing here?!"

And why are so many of you girls? He dreaded girls. Girls made him feel like shit. That only got worse as he got older. 

Akane laughed. At him, definitely. "To see the show! Besides, if you can't eat everything, I'm gonna play clean-up crew."

Byakuya adjusted his glasses. "I am here to make sure the challenge is carried out fairly, and to ensure that there is no cheating on either side."

Mikan twisted her hands together. "I-I'm here in…in case anyone gets hurt…"

"I'm not gonna get hurt!" Kazuichi yelped, sweating. Maybe this was a terrible idea after all.

Hiyoko twirled her ponytail around her finger. "I'm here for posterity," she said, casually scrolling through her phone. "It's gonna be so sad."

Okay, this was definitely a bad idea. Kazuichi pointed at her, gritting his teeth. "Y-you'd better not take any pictures!"

Byakuya shook his head. "Certainly not. I will not allow any blackmail material to be gathered under my watch."

Hiyoko pouted. "Boo, you're boring. Whatever. I don't have anything better to do anyway."

Kazuichi was just considering making a run for it when the door to the private dining room swung open. Out stepped Teruteru, dressed in his stupid smug little red apron and his spotless chef's uniform, as always.

"Ah, Kazuichi! Just in time," he said with a wicked smirk. "Do come inside." 

Hiyoko snorted. "I don't think his food is that good," she whispered to Ibuki. 

Kazuichi wanted to yell at her, but he didn't. He had to concentrate. He had to prove to at least one person that he wasn't some pathetic, friendless, out-of-control loser.

Teruteru held the door for him. Kazuichi stepped inside, and his jaw dropped.

A round table, set for one, was piled with the most delicious-looking food he'd seen in his life. There was a huge tray of burgers – fancy burgers, but they still looked good – fries, somehow also fancy, and ramen, and stew, and teriyaki chicken skewers…

He whirled on Teruteru. "How did you know what kind of food I like? Have you been spying on me?!"

Teruteru clicked his tongue. "Takes one to know one. But no. You're remarkably transparent, and I've known you for two years, after all. Have a seat."

Kazuichi swallowed hard. The smell was intoxicating. His stomach let out a loud growl.

Teruteru's smirked widened. "Eager to begin, I see?"

"No! I – I skipped breakfast!" Kazuichi spluttered, trying not to look at the feast. He hadn't been sure how to prepare for this, but he figured skipping breakfast would give him an out in case he did end up overeating. 

Maybe that had been a mistake.

Byakuya stepped up to the table. "Before we begin, I will sample each dish," he announced. "That way we shall be absolutely certain that there was no tampering involved."

Teruteru's smile slipped for the first time that day. "What? Are you suggesting I would drug a dinner guest?!" 

But Byakuya had already started on a hamburger, finishing it in record speed and moving on to the chicken. Teruteru spluttered indignantly.

"Hmm, maybe your food isn't magical after all," said Hiyoko, looking bored. "Byakuya doesn't seem like he's spiraling into madness."

Teruteru started to sweat. "That's because I didn't make it for him! Don't you listen to a word I say?"

Along the side of the room, the girls sat in cushy chairs along the wall, chattering among themselves and staring at him. Had Teruteru known there would be an audience?

Kazuichi suddenly got the sick feeling that this was all some sort of joke. He tightened his grip on the chair and scowled.

When Byakuya had finished testing, Mikan shone a light into his eyes and took his pulse and temperature.

"Th-there are no symptoms of any sort of drug use," Mikan said, nervously putting her instruments away. "N-not yet, anyway…"

"Of course there aren't!" Teruteru snapped.

Byakuya dabbed at the side of his mouth with a napkin. "And if Kazuichi and I happen to develop matching symptoms in the future, we will know who is to blame."

Teruteru glared. "This is unbelievable. What do I have to do to get a little respect around here?" He smoothed his hair and adjusted his hat. "Anyway, now that all that…unpleasantness is over, I believe it is time for our challenge to begin." 

Kazuichi threw him a dirty look. He took a deep breath – a mistake. The tantalizing array of smells overpowered him, and he reached for a burger almost before he knew what he was doing.

He bit in. Tears sprang into his eyes. This was good. This was really, really good. It reminded him of his favorite diner here in the city, and the one his mom used to take him to back home, and the burgers his dad grilled sometimes when business was good –

It was gone before he knew it. He grabbed another one. And another.

"H-he's eating too fast!" he heard Mikan say through a kind of fog. "H-he's going to choke!"

Hiyoko scoffed. "Who cares? You can just resuscitate him." 

It broke the spell long enough for Kazuichi to remember he had an audience of cute (therefore terrifying) girls watching him. Plus Byakuya. Plus Teruteru, who was watching him with satisfaction written all over his plump little face.

Kazuichi swallowed the last of the burgers and let out a loud burp. "That was good," he admitted, reaching for the plate of teriyaki chicken skewers. "I'm not done yet, though. Like I said, I skipped breakfast, and I'm a pretty hungry guy, so…"

Fuck. He couldn't stall much longer. The teriyaki chicken looked incredible. 

Six skewers later, he was having some trouble. Sure, he could pack it away when he wanted, but his stomach already felt as packed as it could get, and he hadn't even started on the fries, ramen, or stew…

"Full already, Kazuichi?" Teruteru drawled from a seat of his own. He crossed his legs like a stuck up little prince. "Maybe you want to think about slowing down a bit, huh?"

Kazuichi glared at him as he reached for the fries. "Sh-shut up. I'm just getting started. I can stop whenever I want, you know."

He hiccuped. His hand flew to cover his mouth, but of course it was too late.

"Of course you can," Teruteru said, smirking. Kazuichi swallowed hard against another hiccup and reached for a large goblet full of…

"Is this Coke?" He gaped. "I thought you – hic! – I-I thought you didn't approve of junk food," he muttered, flushing hot. 

"It's a similar concoction," Teruteru replied. He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. 

Kazuichi tried a sip. Jesus Christ. How did this motherfucker even manage to improve Coca-Cola? Would he even be able to drink normal Coke after this?

He better not have ruined Coke for me, Kazuichi thought, and set the goblet down with a clunk. It was empty.

He shifted his weight in his seat, which triggered a long belch. He was not feeling his best. 

"I'm definitely gonna – hic! – uh, stop soon," he said, trying to sound casual. He pulled the plate of fries forward. "But I wanna tr – hic! – try everything first. I just gotta…pace myself a little."

Hiyoko snickered. "You're doing great so far."

Kazuichi glared at her. He shoved a handful of fries in his mouth. Fuck , they were good.

The next thing he knew, the fries were gone. And now his hiccups were getting really bad. He could hardly breathe between bites without hiccuping loudly enough to alert the whole school.

Akane looked impressed. "Damn, Kazuichi, I didn't know you could put it away like this!" She pumped her fist.

"M-maybe you should stop," Mikan said, twisting her hair. "Y-you're gonna make yourself sick…"

"I'll – hic! – I'll stop when I – hic! – when I wanna stop!" Kazuichi exploded, reaching for the ramen. If he slurped the noodles fast enough, he could drink the broth more slowly and maybe that would stop his hiccuping, at least…

But something else was happening. At first he thought he was just too full, and that's why his throat kept closing up and his stomach had started to hurt. But then his eyes stung, and he had to swipe a tear off his face. And then another. And then another.

Mikan looked extremely distressed. "P-please stop this!" she cried. "Y-you're hurting him!"

"I'm fine!" Kazuichi snapped, followed by another painful hiccup. He slurped up the ramen, and for a moment he felt better. But then he had to take a break to breathe, and his eyes filled with tears. 

"You – hic! – you did s-something to th – hic! – to this," he whimpered. 

Ibuki leaned forward in her seat. "But Byakuya's not crying!" 

It was true. Byakuya looked as stern as ever, while Kazuichi was reduced to sobs in between sips of broth.

His stomach really hurt now. Every time he hiccuped, he thought he might throw up. Maybe I should. I'd have more room then…

What was he thinking?! That would prove Teruteru right!

But maybe he'd already won. Kazuichi pushed the empty bowl of ramen back and grasped for the stew, vision blurry with tears. This food…it brought back so many memories. Happy memories, times he'd really, truly felt loved and peaceful and safe – when was the last time he'd felt like that? 

As long as he was eating, he was fine, but every time he had to stop…loneliness slammed into him like a brick. No one liked him here. No one loved him. Maybe no one had ever loved him, and the only way he could feel it was through this dumb, stupid food…

"Give – hic! – g-give me – hic! " Fuck, he could barely speak. "Water. I – hic! – have to get rid of – hic! – these goddamn – hic! – hiccups…"

Teruteru graciously offered Kazuichi a goblet of water. He chugged it. Fuck! That didn't help. It only filled him up more…

He lifted a bite of stew from the bowl. It felt unbearably heavy. The smell alone made him weep with longing. He put the spoon in his mouth and sucked on it like a pacifier, shaking with hiccups and sobs. 

"Alright." Teruteru stood up as Kazuichi made a feeble attempt to go at the stew again. "I think I've proved my point, haven't I?"

Kazuichi wanted to argue, but he couldn't speak anymore. He grabbed the bowl and pulled it close, so Teruteru couldn't take it away. He'd stick his face in it if he had to. He'd fucking drown himself here. 

"W-we need to stop him," Mikan said distantly. "He could rupture his s-stomach if he k-keeps going like this!"

Then let it burst! Kazuichi thought, trying to lap the stew up with his tongue. He definitely felt like he was about to explode. His distended belly pushed tight against his jumpsuit, stretching painfully every time a hiccup seized him. He could feel the last few bites of stew threatening to come right back up whenever he so much as moved.

Someone grabbed the bowl and firmly pulled it back. He tried to fight, but all his energy was going to his groaning, churning stomach, and the porcelain slipped out of his fingers.

"Oh, wow," said Akane, somewhere above him. "This is good!"

Kazuichi lay slumped over the table, sobbing. He'd tasted true happiness, and now he'd never have the chance to taste it again. It was over. He blew it. What a fucking loser , he thought, and cried harder.

"Should we take him to the nurse?" Ibuki asked, sounding underwater.

Hiyoko laughed. "I don't think he can even stand up right now. What an idiot!"

"Well, that's what he gets for doubting me," Teruteru said cheerfully. "He'll be alright in a few minutes. Trust me, I've seen it before."

"Should we really leave him alone like this?" Ibuki wondered, but it didn't matter. Soon enough, Kazuichi heard them all leave. Like everyone always did.

He sniffed hard and tried to raise his head. He felt dizzy. Another hiccup rocked him, followed by a long, wet belch.

"Impressive!" Teruteru said. 

Kazuichi jumped. Then he pressed his fist over his mouth to keep from throwing up. "You're – hic! – you're still here?" he muttered weakly. 

"Did you really think I'd leave you in this state? Honestly." Teruteru put his hands on Kazuichi's shoulders and pushed him gently so he sat up against the back of the chair. A sharp cramp shot through his stomach.

"Shit!" Kazuichi sucked in another hiccup. He accidentally swallowed a huge air bubble in the process, and his stomach gurgled. He gripped his belly and groaned. "I – hic! – I hope you're happy, you – hic! – you piece of shit…"

"Incredibly so." Teruteru reached out and poked Kazuichi's stomach. "Goodness, you really packed it in tight, didn't you? I have to admit, I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd make it nearly as far as you did."

Kazuichi wanted to retort, but all he could do was let out a sick-sounding burp in Teruteru's face. It hardly felt like revenge.

So this was it, then. Teruteru had brought him in here to humiliate him, poke at him, and laugh at him. It figured, didn't it?

He sniffed. Not that it helped; his nose was running and his eyes still dripped tears all over his face. Pathetic. Why didn't Teruteru just say it and get it over with?

"Well, no sense in just sitting there," Teruteru said. If Kazuichi could have moved, he would have punched him in the face.

"I can't –" He hiccuped weakly. "I can't walk , you – hic! " 

He didn't feel like finishing that sentence. What was the point? Teruteru was laughing at him anyway. 

Teruteru smirked, but he shook his head. "Of course not. No, I just meant that because I'm a very kind person, I'll help you out with this little predicament you've gotten yourself into."

He pulled over a chair for himself. Then, he slid his chubby hands onto Kazuichi's swollen stomach and started massaging circles into his skin.

"Wh –" A sharp hiccup followed by a burp interrupted Kazuichi's indignant yelp. "H-hey! What are you –"

Another belch rose out of his throat. He clamped his mouth shut and tried to swallow back the air rising out of him.

"Don't be silly," said Teruteru, shifting his attention to Kazuichi's left side, which hurt the most. He must have been able to feel how bad Kazuichi's intestines were churning and cramping. "You ate enough for six people, and at a frankly indecent speed, besides. If I don't do this, you'll be laid up with a stomachache all weekend."

It was hard to imagine a world in which Kazuichi's stomach didn't hurt, but he didn't have the strength to argue. Teruteru pushed his fingers into an especially sore spot, and Kazuichi hissed, belched, and moaned.

He flushed. Where had that come from?

"Feels good, right?" Teruteru looked way, way too pleased with himself. 

Kazuichi grit his teeth. "Y-you just want – hic! – to feel me up, you pervert…"

Teruteru doubled down on kneading Kazuichi's stomach. "Well, I'd never say no to that," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "Call me an opportunist. But…" 

He stalled his hands. Instantly, the pain in Kazuichi's stomach doubled.

"I'll stop if you want me to," he said, still with that stupid, shit-eating smirk on his face.

Kazuichi's face contorted. What was he supposed to do, anyway? Just sit there and suffer while Teruteru laughed at him?!

"K-keep going," he said through gritted teeth. He sucked in a sharp hiccup. "Y-you can't just leave me like this!"

Teruteru nodded and started rubbing in small circles again. Grimacing, Kazuichi slouched in his chair, trying to push his stomach farther into Teruteru's hands without being obvious.

The worst part was that it helped. Every belch relieved some of the excruciating pressure that had built up over the meal, and Teruteru's steady fingers rubbed away the worst of his stomach cramps before they became unbearable. His hiccups slowed down, then stopped entirely. 

"You know, not everyone reacts as strongly to my cooking as you did," Teruteru said, pressing his fingers into the swell of Kazuichi's stomach. (He looked pregnant. As if he wasn't embarrassed enough…) "It does make me curious what was going through your mind."

Kazuichi scowled. It had been pure bliss, eating Teruteru's food. He already missed it. Even though he was stuffed sick, the aching void inside of him felt emptier than ever. But he wasn't gonna tell him that!

"Nothing," he lied. He burped into his fist.

"Nothing?" Teruteru arched an eyebrow.

"That's what I said," Kazuichi snapped. "I – all I could think about was stuffing my face until I popped, alright? Because you were right about your stupid talent! Happy?"

Teruteru hummed. "And the tears?"

"It fucking hurt!" Kazuichi spat. 

Teruteru clicked his tongue. He worked his way around Kazuichi's swollen sides, then skated his fingers across the bottom of Kazuichi's belly.

Kazuichi sucked in a sharp breath. "H-hey, what – watch where you put your hands!" 

"Hm? Why?" Teruteru smiled innocently. Kazuichi scowled at him and scooted back a little, but sweat dripped down his face. Why was this giving him a hard-on?!

With a sigh, Teruteru stood up and rolled his shoulders back. He started gathering up the dishes. "Don't think I haven't noticed, Kazuichi."

"N-noticed what?" He shifted in his seat and burped again. Now that Teruteru wasn't rubbing his belly anymore, his stomachache was coming back with a vengeance. Not to mention that he was also uncomfortable for…other reasons.

"That you've kept to yourself ever since summer break," Teruteru said, as if he were discussing the weather. "That you hardly bother Sonia anymore. Or Hajime, for that matter. Or any of us. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were depressed."

Kazuichi swallowed. His throat hurt. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and folded forward. (Shit, he didn't realize how much Teruteru had been helping.)

"I'm not depressed," he said, more thickly than he would have liked. "I – I grew up, that's all. What's the point in talking to people who – who hate your guts?" 

He sniffed. Shit. What he wouldn't give for another one of those burgers. 

Dimly, he watched Teruteru putter about the room. "D'you think…uh, do you think maybe you could…make some of that shit for me again sometime?"

Teruteru looked up, his little eyes wide with delight. He laughed. Kazuichi cringed back into his chair.

"My, my! I didn't realize you were that into my cooking, Kazuichi!" 

He walked over. Kazuichi gulped. Hunched over like this, he actually had to look up at Teruteru, which was a weird feeling.

Teruteru smirked. He cupped Kazuichi's cheek, then ran his hand under his chin and tilted his face up so their lips were hardly an inch from each other's.

"But I don't work for free, you know," he said. He ran his thumb over Kazuichi's mouth.

Kazuichi's mind blanked. His stomach tried to somersault, but being as full as it was, that just pushed out another belch.

Teruteru laughed and let go as Kazuichi pulled back, flushed up to his beanie and spluttering.

"D-don't – wh-what are you talking about? I'm not – that's gay!" 

"And so am I. Big surprise, right?" Teruteru started loading the dishes onto a cart Kazuichi hadn't noticed before. "Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know. I'll be more than happy to oblige." 

He wheeled the cart to the door, then turned his head. Would it kill him to stop smiling like that?! 

"Thank you very much for the entertainment," he said, eyes twinkling. He left before Kazuichi could sputter enough to form a sentence.

"Asshole!" Kazuichi whimpered to the empty room. His heart banged against his ribs. Combined with his rapidly developing heartburn, this sucked ass. "Who does he think he is? He can't just give me food like – like that and then say I can't have it again unless I – hic! "

He slumped, pressing a hand over his mouth. Sure enough, he hiccuped again a few seconds later. 

"Great," he mumbled. "Just great." 

[meirathinks]

you can tell something that sounds like it

Suguru Geto x reader.

warnings: it’s angst :(( maybe some grammar mistakes? 

geto has never lied to you. You tell yourself that he does. 

(based off the song happy news for sadness)

                                      ╬╬═════════════╬╬

He can never tell the truth.

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—

At least, that’s what you told yourself. You'd repeat it over and over, the sick mantra failing to provide any sort of comfort. The dread had slithered from the end of your tongue to the base of your throat and finally cemented itself behind your ribcage: snuggly against your heart.

I.

At first, Geto's presence was warm. His fingertips would dance along your jawline after particularly draining missions, butterfly kisses and the soft flutter of your pulse would follow shortly after. You would look at him with so much endearment. Doe eyes casting a hazy look in his direction while he continued to exchange soft touches for attention.

It was springtime; the nights were supposed to be frosted over. But, as your eyesight shifted from the condensation on the window accentuated by the soft glow of the lamp in Suguru's dorm, you noticed that you'd trade anything to forever feel the way you're feeling now. Geto held himself in a unique way, he was strong, but it differed from Gojo's arrogance. Geto was one of the strongest but he hardly paraded that fact; he instead used that fact to make you feel safe.

You hummed against his throat at the thought, Geto is your protector.

He breathed into your forehead pressing phantom kisses into your skin while sitting on his bed with you. You leaned into his chest while recovering from the latest mission, civilians were injured but none were killed. Still, Geto was ashamed that non-sorcerers had to be involved in such dangerous affairs in the first place.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

He moved to tug tightly at your hair, urging you to look up at him. His slightly swollen lips parted and shut as if looking for the appropriate thing to say. Geto relented, choosing to ignore the seeds of doubt threatening to be sown.

"You know, I won't let anyone hurt you." His calloused hand moved to squeeze your arm, the condensation dripped down the window.

Suguru is strong. He is your protector.

II.

Geto left. And all that replaced him was the wide-eyed gaze only piteous adults knew. Gentle squeezes on your shoulder and whispering that followed wherever you went.

You were ashamed. His promises that had once left you satisfied had proven to be hollow. His righteousness never wavered.

A voice had tugged at the corner of your mind the day you heard of what had happened in the village. Geto was good, he wanted to see people safe; if you had the chance to confront him you knew he wouldn’t change. 

The drip, drip, drip, of your bathroom faucet, prompted you to focus on your reflection above the sink. Hot tears made their way down your cheeks, laboured breaths reverberated in the small space.

Geto would hug you, he'd tell you everything was okay.

Then he'd say he'd protect you.

You smiled at the thought of his domesticity, imagining his hand holding yours, missing the way his thumb would draw circles on the back of your hand.

The faucet continued to drip as you met your own gaze once again.

Dread filled your lungs

Geto killed 100s of people.

Geto always lies.

III.

There was a sharp pound at your door; hollow and calculated. Confusion invaded your senses, today was your day off, no one came to visit you anymore.

Nostalgia racked your body. Back in high school, your dorm was always unlocked, a sort of safe space for your classmates to come and go. Jujutsu tech was a warzone plagued with hopeless violence and your room seemed to be representative of the humanity of your colleagues. Neutral, kind, loving.

Gojo never knocked.

Shoko knocked three times.

And Geto was always four.

Another knock could be heard at your door.

You laughed at yourself for the little piece of hope you had felt. At the fact that you longed to see a murderer again. Maybe it would be Gojo instead? Willfully eating a candy bar while he waited impatiently outside the door of your home.

But Gojo never knocks.

A pounding could be heard at your door once more.

Your spirits lifted— Shoko had come to visit! You had missed her presence and humour, in a way, her spiral was worse than Geto’s. Everyone was convinced that the dark circles under her eyes were going to become a long-term predicament. But, when confronted about her exhaustiveness, a half-drunk Ieiri would always comment on how she was too busy to rest. Nonetheless, Shoko was the only other sorcerer who knew your address.

But no one ever visits.

One more knock.

Your blood ran cold, leaving an icy residue in your veins, your heart was beating in your throat. The absence of the knock hung in the air, your anxiety, your insecurity, your deep-rooted hope that he'd come back to explain had buzzed in its place.

You got up to walk to your door, as your hand lifted to unlock it, you waited.

Just one more. I need to prove it.

Suguru knocked one final time, you opened it as quickly as he expected you would. You wanted him to see the shame that ran deep in your eyes. Though, you hadn't felt the way that you were required to feel as a jujutsu sorcerer.

He met your gaze. You felt your heartbeat hiccup. Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt some sort of emotion bubble up at the base of your chest. Fear, disgust, hope.

"It's been 4 years, Geto."

Suguru grinned softly, a shiny film had covered his eyes. He took a gentle breath.

"Have I mentioned how I've thought about you every day for four years?"

IV.

In his final days at Jujutsu Tech, Geto was a shell of himself. Though he'd always eat the food you presented him in an attempt to curb your worries, you knew his appetite ran thin when he was left to his own devices.

Now, as he stood in your home's kitchen expertly cooking dinner for the both of you for what seemed the umpteenth time, you noticed how much he looked like himself. His hair was as gorgeous as ever (though admittedly longer), he still closed his eyes when he smiled, he still ran his thumb against the back of your hand when he held it.

Yet, he seemed so much happier.

At first, this had prompted anger. Someone like him didn't deserve to feel the joy he displayed.

Geto was a criminal, after all.

The hands of a criminal would cup your cheek and run up and down your back. His criminal voice would hum soft tunes to you in between philosophical conversations in the later hours of the night. His criminal eyes would cast the softest, most loving gaze in your direction. Geto's criminal, cold-blooded, self would whisper I love you over and over again into the crook of your neck until he fell asleep.

And you allowed him to.

You allowed him to look at the civilians with a horrifying disgust, one that sharply contrasted with his previous drive to protect everyone. You watched as his endearing expression would turn to a scowl whenever he talked about them. He'd use a distasteful nickname for non-sorcerers.

"Dirty Monkeys."

You had made sure your voice had matched the iciness of his own as you responded, "Don't use that phrase near me again."

He made a clear effort to exclude all ideological rhetoric from your conversations soon after.

The same voice that pestered you that there was still hope for Suguru had turned against him. It was ironic more than anything, the both of you could never win this sick and twisted game.

The slam of a knife against a chopping board had woken you up from your daydream. You looked up. Eyes scanning the figure of the criminal you had come to love. It was an illicit romance, one between a Jujutsu sorcerer and a cursed user. A romance between two people with differing beliefs.

You took a deep breath, the knife on the chopping board slowed as Getou turned to look at you. His brows were furrowed.

"Is everything okay?"

Your lips formed a tight-lipped smile, tears brimmed your eyes as you looked up to his face from your spot on the kitchen counter.

"Suguru," you swallowed, "we were never supposed to last this long, you know."

You watched his throat bob.

"I'm well aware."

You smiled up at him, a genuine one, twinged with melancholy, "Then you'll understand why I'm asking you to leave."

He nodded silently inching closer to your sitting figure. His hot breath tickled your face, testing the waters. You didn't know what to expect out of the kiss at this moment Maybe rough? Like the late nights you'd spend together after he practically barrelled through the front door, fuming about the day he had just had. Or passionate? You imagined a kiss with sloppy whispers and late apologies said in between the moments you took to catch your breath.

He grabbed your chin in his pointer finger and thumb, he urged your teary eyes to look into his. His lips met yours and he was not passionate, nor was he rough. You didn't see stars, you only felt him.

Geto was soft.

He pulled away, his eyes avoided your own as he breathed softly while taking in your figure one last time.

A sigh could be heard while he moved to the coat rack near your front door. You continued to sit stupidly on the kitchen counter, watching the abandoned knife and vegetables lay limp against the wood of the chopping board.

You heard the shifting of fabric as Geto maneuvered his coat on, "Call me if you need anything."

Suguru's eyes were downcast as he continued, "I love you."

You felt your throat go dry as it bobbed; Suguru closed the door as softly as he could on his way out.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

You never called him.

V.

Gojo leaned against the wall of the hallways in Jujutsu tech, as he awaited your response.

He quickly grew impatient.

"I said I killed him." You hummed in response, you'd like to imagine that you looked indifferent. You wouldn't let yourself cry, not in front of Gojo, not because of Suguru.

"He had it coming." You willed yourself to say.

As you turned to continue your journey down the hallway, Gojo beckoned you to turn around with a scoff.

"One more thing," He lifted his blindfold to meet your eyes.

"He told me he loved you."

You let out a dry laugh, your fingernails were digging crescents into your palms, "Of course he did."

You walked down the empty hallway, leaving Gojo to his own thoughts. Heavy breaths could be heard as you attempted to calm yourself down. Why would Geto say that?

Then you remembered.

He can never tell the truth.

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—

[cali-holland]

Hubby- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Requested by Anonymous: Hello my love! can I get a cute request? just super cute domestic Tom and y/n. Because we all know love isn't just about the grand gestures, but the simple moments or giggling together and making faces in the mirror as you brush your teeth, him stealing a slice of veggie off the chopping board as you get dinner ready, him complaining that you like too many cushions on the bed, the little mumbled 'love you' as you both go to sleep. I'm down for reading anything like that . love your writing :)

Prompt: Tom makes even the simplest of days amazing.

Word Count: 4800

Warnings: Swearing, sexual jokes/innuendos, some pain (Tom gets hit in the balls at one point), LOTS of fluff

A/N: this is for the lovely @cunaeparker​ ‘s writing challenge, the prompt is in bold! I combined it with the request because it just went so well with all the fluff!!

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

The familiar sound of a cell phone buzzing drew you out of your deep sleep. With your eyes still closed, you cuddled closer to Tom’s chest, hoping that the phone would quit ringing soon. He shifted underneath you as he tried to reach his phone on the nightstand, but seeing as you two were tangled up on your side of the bed and there was basically a mountain of pillows on his side, he couldn’t quite grab it without moving away from you.

“Just leave it.” You mumbled, not wanting him (a.k.a. your pillow) to move.

“Love, it’s my mum.” He laughed lightly, the vibrations running through his bare chest to your cheek. He pressed a kiss to your head, before you shifted off him so he could get his phone. He picked up the call and resumed his position as your morning cuddle buddy. You wrapped an arm around his waist and laid your head back on his chest. His free hand mindlessly found its way to play with your hair.

“No, you didn’t wake us.” Tom told his mother, but the raspiness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by her. He laughed, “Okay, yes, you did.” He paused and you could hear her voice coming through the phone. Tom looked down at you for a moment, “Are we still on for the barbecue this afternoon?”

“We can be?” You answered. You both knew he obviously forgot to mention how his mother invited the two of you to a barbecue.

“Yes, mum, we’ll be there. What do you want us to bring?” He spoke back into the phone. “Vegetables? That’s not broad at all.” You lightly smacked his chest at his sarcasm, and his free hand came down to hold the hand that just hit him, “Okay, yeah we can do a salad.” There was another pause as she spoke to him before he replied, “Y/N would love to make some dessert.” Hearing him sign you up for food, you playfully glared at him. He said goodbye to his mother and tossed his phone to the side. You sat up and straddled his waist on your knees, your hands falling by his head to keep your face above his.

“Looks like we’re going grocery shopping.” Tom smiled up at you innocently, his hands resting on your hips.

“When were you going to tell me your mum invited us over?” You asked.

“Now, I guess,” He shrugged slightly. With his thumbs drawing light circles on your hips, he teasingly added, “When were you going to give me my morning kiss?”

You shrugged in return, but leaned down to kiss him nonetheless. He smiled into the kiss, moving a hand to cradle the back of your head, keeping you in place to continue kissing you.

“Your morning breath’s shit.” He laughed, pulling away from the innocent-turned-a-bit-heated kiss as you sat up straight.

“Yeah, well you have the ugliest bed head I have ever seen.” You teased, ruffling his hair. He caught your wrist, pulling your hand down to in front of his face.

“I believe this hand’s the culprit of that.” He joked, pecking your open palm.

“You weren’t complaining last night.” You shuffled off of him and got out of the bed. Walking over to your shared closet, you started to plan out a nice outfit for the day. “Come on, we gotta go grocery shopping.”

“Wanna shower together? Save time and save water?” Tom suggested, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“You get so horny in the morning.” You laughed.

“I’m needy, not horny.” He insisted before pressing a kiss to your neck. “We’ll be conserving water. C’mon, wifey, think of the planet.”

“Alright, go start the shower.” Both of you knew you would cave like almost every morning, but it didn’t stop him from letting out an excited cheer. He pecked your cheek and left to go warm up the water.

Once you two were showered and dressed, you went to make some bacon and eggs for breakfast while Tom made you both a morning cup of tea.

“Bacon,” You stated, holding out a piece of bacon from your spot by the stove as he fixed you some tea at the island. He leaned over and ate the bacon from your fingers.

“Tasty.” He hummed, turning back to his task.

“It’s bacon, duh.” You laughed, eating a piece of bacon yourself.

“Shit. We don’t have any more milk.” Tom sighed, looking at the blank spot in the fridge where the milk would normally sit. He looked at the two mugs of tea and the bowl of sugar on the counter; without milk, it just wouldn’t be right.

“Did you finish it off?” You asked, knowing he made himself a cup of tea late last night before you two went to bed.

“Damn it, I did.” He let out a groan.

“So we need milk.” You noted, taking out your phone to create a legitimate list for the store; it’d be too long for you to remember everything. “What do we want for dinner tomorrow?”

“Wanna try that lamb recipe you found last week?” He suggested.

“Yeah, can you check what we need for that?”

“You got it.” He nodded and pulled out his phone. You’d sent him the recipe just last week, saying that it looked good and that you two should try to make it sometime. He’d never made lambchops before so he was a bit skeptical, but agreed with you nonetheless. He walked through your kitchen and pantry, searching to make sure you had all of the ingredients, while you continued to finish cooking the eggs and bacon.

“Breakfast done yet?” He asked, finishing his search.

“Yep,” You replied as you dished up the food.

“You’re the best, darling.” Tom beamed, giving you a quick kiss. You grabbed both plates while he gathered the silverware and you both sat down at the small table in your kitchen nook.

“If only we had milk.” He pouted, eating a bite of the eggs.

“Hey, you drank the rest of it.” You reminded him.

“If I remember correctly, you said it was the best cuppa I’d ever made and you drank a good half of that.” He corrected you, but you just shook your head. “Wanna make that chocolate cake for dessert? I know Harry and Sam are going to be expecting it.”

Homemade chocolate cake- your ‘signature’ dessert that all of the Holland boys loved. In fact, it was that very cake that made Tom fall in love with you. The way to his heart was truly through his stomach.

“Why isn’t Sam making anything? He’s the chef.” You laughed, thinking about how Sam was insistent on being the head chef of the family.

“I think he’s actually making bread with some sort of dip.”

“Sam’s making us bread?” Your mouth was already watering at the thought of fresh homemade bread.

“We should try making bread sometime.” Tom offered. You nodded in agreement, you’d never made bread before but it’d be interesting to attempt it with Tom.

With breakfast over, Tom started to load up the dishwasher with your plates and the frying pans while you made your way into the bathroom to start on your makeup. By the time he’d finished and come into the room, you were just about to start your mascara.

“Can I do it?” He asked, an eager smile on his face.

“Don’t poke me in the eye, Holland.” You said, trying to sound threatening. You sat on the bathroom counter with your legs spread so he could stand between them. You handed him the mascara tube. He had done your mascara a couple times before (because he just really really wanted to try to do your makeup) so you trusted him to do it, for the most part. As long as he didn’t stab you somehow, then you were fine. You sat still while he applied the makeup to your lashes.

“There. Does that look good, wifey?” He stepped back enough for you to turn and look in the mirror. It was even, you had to give him props for that, but it was almost nonexistent. He was still trying to find the happy medium between applying too little and applying too much.

“You did great.” You gave him a quick kiss and hopped off the counter to full face the mirror again. You applied some more mascara on your lashes quickly and he shook his head.

“I’ll get it one day.” He stated, getting out the toothbrush as you laughed lightly at him. Tom grabbed your toothbrush and his, running them under the sink before applying toothpaste to them.

“Thank you,” You smiled as he handed you your toothbrush. 

“Can we get bananas and macadamia nuts too?” Tom asked, half muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth as he stopped brushing. You spit out the toothpaste into the sink, looking at him through the mirror.

“You want me to make banana nut bread again?” You questioned, before continuing to brush your teeth.

“It’s the best.” He nodded.

“Okay, we’ll get the stuff for it.” You reassured him. He pulled out his phone, looking at a text he’d received as you eyed him through the mirror. Even when doing something as simple as brushing his teeth, your boyfriend was just breathtaking and you felt so lucky to have him. He noticed your gaze and pulled a funny face- well, as best he could while brushing his teeth. You laughed and leaned over the sink, spitting out the mixture of toothpaste and saliva in your mouth as you coughed. If it was anyone else beside you, you would’ve been embarrassed by the unattractiveness of the scene, but it was Tom, your loving boyfriend of four years.

“God, you’re making me choke on spit.” You laughed, cleaning off your toothbrush under the faucet.

“Spitters are quitters, babe.” Tom teased you and you playfully elbowed him in the torso, causing him to yelp in surprise. You stepped aside so he could use the sink. After spitting into the sink and rinsing out his mouth, he turned to you with a cheeky grin, “I know, I know. I of all people should know you’re not a spitter.”

“Fuck off.” You rolled your eyes at him, spraying some of your perfume onto your neck. Your collection of perfume sat in the corner of the bathroom counter, right next to Tom’s own collection of cologne- ironically (but it was totally expected actually) he had more.

“By the way, my mum asked if we could host the barbecue here? Apparently my dad forgot their barbecue was broken.” He asked you as he put on cologne.

“Did you forget to tell me that too?”

“No, no, I swear she just now texted me about it.” He insisted, slipping on a watch while you put on some jewelry. The two of you maneuvering through the bathroom easily in your morning routine.

“That’s fine if we host, but that just means you’re helping me clean.” You stated.

“When do I not help you clean?” He smiled at you innocently and you narrowed your eyes at him. You both knew exactly how much he helped you clean. In all honesty, he would genuinely help you clean for a solid hour, but it was around hour 2 of cleaning that turned into a dance party for him, which turned into him distracting you from cleaning. “I can always ask if Harry could host it, but then Harrison would be there.”

“Oh no, definitely can’t handle Harrison showing up.” You sarcastically rolled your eyes. It was a running joke between the three of you that you and Harrison were competing for Tom’s attention. Harrison was like a brother to you, and there really wasn’t any competition going on, but it was still funny to joke about. “Your mum probably invited him already.”

“She probably did.” He laughed. He shoved off the numerous pillows on his side of the bed, except for the one he actually sleeps on at the head of the bed, “Do we really need that many pillows?”

“They’re comfy!” You insisted, pulling up the bottom sheet on your side as he mirrored your actions across the bed.

“I’m your pillow, you don’t even use them.”

“You’re not wrong, but we’re keeping them.” You smiled while the two of you finished making the bed.

After you two went to the grocery store (and Tom just about dropped most of the groceries while unloading them because he was carrying like ten bags between his two hands since “multiple trips are for the weak, love”), he put away the groceries while you started the laundry. While it wasn’t something his family would actually see when they came later, it’d been piling up for days and you just really needed it to get done.

“What do you want to listen to?” Tom asked as you came back into the kitchen. He sat perched on the kitchen counter with his phone in hand, small bluetooth stereo sitting beside him. Just as you opened your mouth to suggest an artist, he cut you off with a grin, “No One Direction.”

“Shawn Mendes then?” You teased, stepping between his legs.

“Nope.” He shook his head.

“Why’d you ask me then, hubby?” You laughed, taking his phone from his hands and stepping away from him.

“Hey, that’s mine!” He jumped off the counter, trying to grab his phone back.

“Too late.” You smiled as the familiar opening to “Steal My Girl” played over the speakers. You queued a few more random songs on his Spotify and handed his phone back over to him, “Now, you’re on vacuum duty.”

“You said ‘duty’.” He giggled like a schoolboy.

“Thomas,” You sighed. 

“You lined that one up for me!” He gave you a quick kiss. You shook your head at your crazy boyfriend as he wandered off to the closet where you kept the vacuum.

“Everybody wanna steal my girl, everybody wanna take her heart away,” Tom shouted along to the chorus from the other room. “Couple billion in the whole wide world, find another one ‘cause she belongs to me!”

You sang along to the song while you worked on the cake. Once it was in the oven, you started on cutting the array of vegetables for the salad. You weren’t far into the process of washing and cutting the different vegetables before Tom came into the kitchen vacuum in hand.

“Do I get some?” He asked, spying the cucumber you were currently cutting up. He walked over to you, mouth open wide wanting a slice. You gave him a piece of the cucumber and he hummed in content. He cracked open the oven slightly to smell the cake baking in there, “Damn, I should wife you up, you’re great in the kitchen.”

“Uhuh,” You laughed at his comment. While you two called each other wifey/hubby and make “wife me up” jokes, neither of you really were ready for marriage and neither of you felt any pressure to get married. “I left the beaters out for you.”

Tom smiled as he grabbed one of the chocolate covered beaters, licking it like a little kid with a lollipop. The song changed to “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” and your boyfriend wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Don’t go breaking my heart,” He started singing into the beater (that had been mostly licked clean by that nice tongue of his), nodding at you encouragingly to keep singing.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” You sang back, unable to hide your smile at his antics.

“Oh honey, if I get restless,”

“Baby, you’re not that kind”

He set the beater aside to take your hands in his, pulling you in to dance with him. Your little impromptu dancing and singing party ended when the song changed and you pulled him back to the reality that was cleaning. While Tom finished vacuuming the house and cleaning the tables outside, you completed the salad and cake and cleaned the kitchen.

“Wanna watch something until my parents show up?” Tom asked you from his spot on the couch in the living room as you began to move the laundry.

“Sure, just fold these.” You said, walking into the living room. He frowned, hoping he was done with household chores. Seeing his reaction, you emptied the laundry basket of clean clothes on him.

“Hey, I’m layin’ here!” He did in his best overdramatic New Yorker impression.

“Fold the laundry, Dustin Hoffman.” You shook your head at him before leaving to finish moving the laundry around. You called back to him from the other room, “When is your family coming?”

“About twenty minutes?” Tom replied, checking his phone quickly to look at the time.

“Did you see if Haz was coming?” You asked, coming back into the room to help him fold the clothes.

“Why? You wanna see Haz that desperately?” He joked.

“Oh obviously. What’s the point of moving in with you if I can’t show off to Haz that I’m winning?” You teased. Tom threw a sock at you, shaking his head with a laugh. 

“Yeah, Harry said he’s coming. We’ve got an even number for football now.” He smiled, ready to play against his brothers.

“I’m so going to kick your ass after what happened last time.” You stated.

“Darling, you know that was an accident.” Tom insisted, still feeling a bit guilty about the incident. Last time you were playing football with him, his brothers, and Harrison, he accidentally kicked the ball in your face while you were even on the same team. Luckily, there was no mark, but Tom was even clingier than usual as he felt incredibly guilty about it. It occurred a month ago and you were ready for payback.

“I’m just teasing.” You smiled, leaning over the pile of laundry to give him a kiss. The two of you worked silently on finishing up folding the clothes until Tom’s eyes landed on your lacy black underwear, cheekily smiling at you while he held it up.

“Your boyfriend must be so lucky to see you in this.”

“Oh those? Didn’t buy ‘em for him.” You teased, taking the underwear from his hands and putting it aside. Tom’s hands grabbed your waist and he pulled you into his lap.

“I’m so lucky to have you. You’re my favorite person.” He said as you rested your forehead against his.

“You’re my favorite person, too.” Your hands rested at the back of his neck as you leaned in to kiss him. With your fingers scratching the nape of his neck lightly as they played with his hair there and his hands bringing you even more tightly against him, you two started to get caught up in the moment; nothing lustful, just passionate and romantic. You broke the kiss, your nose resting against his as you looked into his eyes, both of you a bit breathless.

You jumped hearing the doorbell ring. His family was here, and that meant the laundry needed to be off the couch and hidden in your room. As Tom went to answer the door, you hurried to move the laundry to your room, quickly folding the last few articles of clothing.

“Smells clean in here, must be Y/N.” Sam teased his older brother as he walked into the house with Tessa at his feet. He held a container of the freshly baked bread while his parents and Paddy came in behind him, bringing in the uncooked main course. Tom rolled his eyes at Sam’s comment, leaning down to give Tessa some well deserved love. You had lived with Tom for almost two years now, and his brothers still loved to poke fun at how organized and well-decorated his house is. Harry and Harrison trailed shortly after them, holding a ball for later and a case of beer as their contribution for the evening. You came out of the bedroom, having put the laundry away enough for now, and greeted your second family.

“Were we interrupting something?” Harrison snickered, spotting the underwear you had accidentally left on the couch.

“It’s laundry day. Get your head out of the gutter.” Tom quickly grabbed the offending undergarment and haphazardly threw it in your room before closing the door.

“Gross.” Harry gagged.

“So no sitting on the couch.” Sam laughed.

“Don’t sit anywhere then if you’re so concerned.” You smacked your boyfriend for his teasing comment that wasn’t completely untrue. Though you loved the Hollands and they loved you, you still weren’t comfortable with the sex jokes in front of his parents, that’s just never a good topic.

“Sam, that bread smells heavenly.” You told him, effectively changing the topic.

“Thank you. I tried a new recipe to make the artichoke dip to go with it.” He explained as you all moved out of the house to the outside table. He set the container of the table and opened it up so you could see (and smell even more) the bread.

You got wrapped up in a conversation with Sam and Nikki as you pet Tessa, who sat happily at your feet. Tom and his dad got the barbecue together while the other three boys started to kick around the ball on the grass.

“Wanna be on my team, wifey?” Tom asked you, walking up behind your chair and resting his head on your shoulder, letting his hands fall to your lap.

“Hell no, I told you I was getting payback.” You replied, making Sam laugh while his older brother pouted.

“Pwease?” He grabbed your hands in his, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Too late, she’s on my team.” Sam piped up, despite the fact that teams hadn’t even been discussed yet.

“We’re stealing your girl.” Harry said, kicking the ball over to Tom. You unwrapped yourself from Tom’s arms to stand up as his pout grew bigger.

“Aw, you’re breaking his heart. Does this mean I’m the favorite now?” Harrison asked with a hopeful smile. 

“Only if we win.” Tom stated, picking up the ball and walking over to the far side of the yard with Harrison and Paddy.

“So that’s a no.” You smiled at Harrison. Tom set the ball between the two teams, in the middle of the two ‘goalposts’ (a.k.a. the cones Tom set up on either side of the yard months ago).

The game began and Harrison was doing his best to block you from getting the ball (and keeping Tom from getting distracted by you). The Hollands were, of course, getting a bit more physical than regular football, kicking each other and shoving a bit, as brothers do. The game was 2-0 with you and the twins winning. When Paddy passed the ball to Harrison, you managed to swipe it from him. You sent it over to Sam and Tom basically slide tackled his brother to get it.

“That’s a foul!” You shouted as Sam landed on the grass with a soft ‘thud’.

“Nope!” Tom exclaimed, kicking the ball through Harry’s legs and into the goal. He cheered with Harrison and Paddy while you helped up Sam, who was fine and used to the physicalness of it all. This time, you started off with the ball and Harrison tried to steal it back, but you were too fast in swiftly kicking it to Harry, who Paddy was trying to block.

“Elbow him!” Tom called out, running about in front of Sam to block him.

“Tom,” Nikki said in a warning tone when he started to push Sam back a bit.

“I need to win!” He replied. Harry passed the ball back to you and you dribbled it down the makeshift field.

“Go away!” Sam shoved his older brother, trying to get him out of the way.

“Fine!” Tom huffed, running over to you. Harrison took it as a sign to go block the open twin.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” You asked your boyfriend as he attempted to kick the ball out from your feet, but your movements were too quick for him. You nutmegged him, sending the ball straight through his legs to Harry. Your perfect pass was defeated by Paddy stealing the ball from him. Before you could move to block him, Tom picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

“Go Pads!” He cheered, holding your waist as you kicked your feet in the air.

“Tom, put me down! This is cheating!” You shouted. You felt Tom’s hand shift subtly more to your butt than your hip, making you slap his back. With you caught up with Tom, Paddy scored the goal easily.

“Hey, now, no inappropriate touching in front of the Padster.” Harry teased, seeing his brother’s hand placement.

“Shove off!” Paddy threw the ball over to his curly haired brother.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tom chuckled, setting you down.

“You’re going to regret that.” You told him, before Harry kicked the ball to signal the game was back on. Knowing his distraction would most likely not work again, Tom switched places with Harrison, going back to beating up Sam.

“Food will be done in two minutes.” Dom announced and you all knew that meant this was the speed round. The stakes were high with both teams tied. After a few minutes of Tom basically playing keep away when he finally got the ball, he kicked it over to Paddy. Harry elbowed his brother and sent the ball to you. Not even stopping it to gain control, you kicked it straight at their open goal.

It would’ve gone in and you would’ve won if Tom hadn’t jumped in the way to save it.

“Ah, fuck!” He shouted, grabbing himself while the rest of the boys grimaced and laughed. Even you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little at his mistake. Seeing an opportunity to make a goal with everyone paused, Sam kicked the ball in and he and Harry cheered- you won.

“Baby, you alright?” You asked, going over to Tom who was still bent over in pain.

“God, you really were going for payback.” He groaned, but nodded that he was okay.

“We won!” Sam and Harry cheered as everyone sat down around the table with Dom serving up the food.

“I’m sorry you got in the way of my glorious kick.” You told Tom, holding his hand in yours.

“Yeah, it was a really good kick.” He winced a little.

Dinner and dessert with the Hollands + Harrison (the honorary Holland) went on without any more injuries (unless you count Harry shoving a piece of cake in Paddy’s face as a joke). Goodbyes went all around as they left later, and Tom did the rest of the dishes while you cleaned outside.

“You feeling better?” You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, once you finished outside. He stopped his work at the sink.

“Better. I thought you broke it for a few minutes there.” Tom laughed, washing his hands and drying them before turning around in your arms.

“Oh no, we wouldn’t want that.” You teased, “I’d have to go find another dick until it healed.”

“Is that all I am to you? A dick appointment?” He asked with a small laugh, pulling you in closer to him by your waist.

“No, you’re my favorite person in the world.” You smiled at him tenderly as he ran a hand through your hair and rested it on your cheek.

“You’re my favorite person, too.” He leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

The romantic, sweet moment was cut short by his next teasing comment, “You know, that kick was really great. I’m still impressed. You really know your way around balls.”

“Shut up and kiss me, hubby.”

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

Get Me To Church, I’ve Done So Many Bad Things It Hurts

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: you guys, idk what this is. I only know it’s not what I initially planned. Title is from Sinéad O’Connor’s song “Take Me To Church”, which hijacked this story’s initial plot. It reminds me of Wilhemina, and it’s a very good song <3

Word count: ~ 5 400

Your brain no longer was a brain but fucking mush. Mush that stunk and made one want to throw up at first sight. You had not been able to get a good night’s sleep since you had been sent to Outpost 3 a few months ago. You were running on a few hours of rest snatched here and there and on the disgusting, weird food cubes. At this point, when someone talked to you, you would gap at them until your brain suddenly gave a start and registered their words. Your body felt twice its weight. It was hard to concentrate, hard to think.

Days went by looking exactly alike. You would get out of bed, meet the others, try to have a talk, listen to the same song over and over again. “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”. Stare at a book maybe, open it, stare at a page, fail to understand a single sentence. You would wait for time to pass. Complain with Coco or Andre or that guy whose name you couldn’t remember even though you had been living together for months now. One day, Coco and you decided to exercise by running up and down a staircase, but you didn’t last more than five minutes before you dropped on the floor, panting. You didn’t try again. You lacked the motivation.

Sit at the table, eat your cube. “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”. Go to bed. You were going crazy. You could no longer tell what was real and what was a figment of your imagination.

In truth, there was one thing at least you knew was real. The butterflies in your stomach every time Venable – freaking Venable, of all people – so much as walked into the room you were in.

It was terrible. Why her, why you, you did not know. The only thing you knew was that you were falling hard for her, for that sadistic, mean, scary woman.

In typical mush-brain fashion, you couldn’t string two sentences together when she would ask you a question and her dark eyes would bore into you. You would laugh stupidly or give one-word answers. You would trip over your own feet when you passed her in a corridor.

So, really, it wasn’t a surprise when you realized that she hated you even more than she seemed to hate the others. For starters, she never looked at you. When she did, her eyes were as cold as the North Pole. Icy winds and all that. And when she talked to you, her voice was always so condescending, so sarcastic, as if she knew you were the most idiotic idiot at the Outpost. She probably wondered every minute of every day why you had been chosen to survive. It was a mystery to you, too.

But then – but this was part of your imagination. It must be. There was no rational explanation. For the wistful look on her face you had caught a glimpse of, once, when you had turned and shot her a glance. She had been staring at you. Or for the faint blush that had risen to her cheeks when you had accidentally – accidentally? – brushed past her, way too close to her, on your hurried way to the bathroom. Or for that one time, that blissful, ethereal time – but that had been a dream, it must have been, you had passed out from exhaustion and dreamed – when she, coming out of her room, and you of yours, had paused with her hand on the doorknob, and raised her head, met your eyes, and smiled. Not her mocking, cruel smile. But a fond, almost shy smile. A genuine smile, reflected in her eyes. This you were sure you had dreamed. Were you?  

You were falling for her. Love, intimacy, would make things more tolerable. You craved a strong, true connection with someone, and part of you was convinced you could have it with her.

In the past few evenings Venable had made a habit of joining you in the music room as you whiled the time away before bed. She wouldn’t say anything, merely sit and read a book. The first time she had done it, you and the others had exchanged half surprised, half worried looks. What was she doing? Studying you? Deciding which one of you she would cook for dinner? You didn’t know. Her presence had made you all uncomfortable at first, but now you were used to it. You ignored her, just as she ignored you.

She always, always sat facing you.

And you couldn’t help but steal glances at her. Marvel at the beauty and neatness of her. Your eyes would travel down her body and the butterflies in your stomach would go wild and your head fill with want. For. Her.

Her eyes never met yours, not even once.  

One evening as you sat brooding and she sat reading facing you, and the others chatted about some boring things, and the music, the music went “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”, you abruptly jumped on your feet to stretch your upper body. The sudden movement surprised Venable, who looked up at you. You met her eyes and gave her a goofy smile. She scowled.

“In your mind you have capacities,” you heard yourself sing to the music.

“But do you, Y/N?” Venable sneered.

That shut you up. You straightened up and glared at her. “Do you have, like, a problem with me?” you asked in an annoyed voice.

“Do you mean apart from your obvious lack of brain cells?”

“Why are you always so mean?” you heard yourself whine.

“Oh, boo hoo,” Venable cooed. “Poor you. Look at you, standing among the few who have been allowed to survive the Apocalypse. Do you really think I should feel sorry for you?”

You considered that. “No,” you grumbled.

“No, Ms Venable.”

You didn’t know what came over you then. Probably it was a mix of exhaustion, anger, frustration and want. Your hands clenched into fists. In what was both the bravest and stupidest moment of your life, you retorted, “Bite me.”

Someone in the room gasped, and then chuckled. Venable’s eyes went wide with shock. Heat flooded your cheeks.

You were dead meat, you knew that. So really you couldn’t make things worse by adding: “I’m sorry. I meant, bite me, Ms Venable.”

Impressive. You were a genius. Gosh, you needed sleep.

You couldn’t meet Venable’s eyes. Instead you stared at Andre, who was gawping at you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Coco give you a thumbs-up. You smiled shyly at her.

“Right,” you said. “Um. Goodnight.”

You hurried out of the room before someone could call you back. Your heart was beating too fast in your chest, but you couldn’t really understand why. You needed sleep.

You closed the door of your bedroom behind you and collapsed on your bed.

**

You couldn’t sleep.

It was always the same: you were exhausted all day, but the minute your head touched your pillow, your brain roared back into life. Someone in your head turned the light on. You were wide awake.

You groaned and turned on the bed. You didn’t have the slightest idea what time it was or how long you had lain under the sheet. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been a century. You turned again, forced yourself to close your eyes.

Bite me, Ms Venable. Damn it, you were such a fool when you were exhausted! You had survived the bloody Apocalypse and now you were about to die for something so, so stupid. Venable was probably plotting your death right now. She would order you out of the Outpost and condemn you to a horrible death among the repugnant creatures that haunted the nuclear winter outside. In your current state, you wouldn’t last a day. You’d trip over something and break your neck or get stabbed by the first hungry person you’d meet.

Fear clenched your stomach. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t feel like giving up on life yet. Even if the world as you had known it was gone, even if there was almost no hope of a bright, safe future. God, you wanted to live.

You sprang out of bed before you knew what you were doing and ran to the door. Locked it. Looked around the room for things to build a barricade with. The chair would do, and if you could move that huge chest of drawers –

You heard footsteps coming down the corridor towards you. And something else, unmistakable. The sound of a cane.

Shit. Your whole body froze with fear. Then your hand automatically reached for a decorative statuette close-by, that had sharp angles and that you could use as a weapon if need be. The footsteps grew louder and came to a halt at your door.

You waited, heart hammering in your chest. Venable must have a spare key, of course she must. You stared at the doorknob, expecting it to move, expecting the door to open, on Venable standing tall and threatening and radiating off anger and satisfaction. How so very beautiful she would look.

Nothing happened.

What was she doing? You couldn’t hear anything but the mad pounding of your heart. Had you imagined her footsteps? The sound of her cane? But you had been so sure –

One of your hands came up to press against the door. Fingers splayed out, palm pressing against the cold, hard surface. To try and feel her through the wood.

You waited. Your heartbeat was drumming against the wood. And it was slowing down, and your eyes were fluttering closed, for she was here – just behind the door, and you could almost see her, her eyes on the doorknob, the spare key in her hand, her lips slightly parted. It was as if your soul had connected with hers and now they were softly singing to each other.

There was a sound like a sigh. Before you knew it you had unlocked the door and opened it.

Venable stood in front of you with her left hand in the air, a few inches further to the left than yours had been. She met your eyes in surprise as her fingers curled up. She lowered her hand, and schooled her features.

You decided your safest option was to play it cool.

“I thought I heard a noise,” you said, assuming a casual expression.

“I was on my way to bed,” Venable answered. A pause. “I saw your light was on through the gap under your door.”

She didn’t sound particularly mad or threatening. Relief flooded your chest. Maybe she didn’t mean to kill you, after all. Maybe you’d been over-reacting.

Her eyes fell on the statuette you were still holding.

“What’s this?” she asked very slowly. Her eyes met yours again. They were dark, her eyes. The darkest eyes you had ever seen.

“What’s this?” she repeated, louder. You started.

“Oh, uh.” You raised the statuette to your chest and shrugged. Play it cool. “I don’t know why I’m holding this.” You tried to laugh. It came out nervous and foolish. “Must have been sleepwalking or something.”

Venable’s gaze was boring into you, piercing your skin, piercing your veins, piercing your bones. You felt too hot suddenly. You laughed again. Then it finally dawned on you.

“My light isn’t on,” you said.

You always kept one candle burning when you slept, but its light was very faint. There was no way Venable could have seen it from the lit corridor.

Her face didn’t change. “It’s not?” she said in a toneless voice.

You shook your head. “I’m afraid not.”

She straightened her shoulders, raised her chin. Her grip on her cane tightened just so.

“Were you planning on attacking someone with this?” she asked, nodding at the statuette.

“I’ve no idea what you mean,” you answered, holding her gaze.

“I cannot think of any other use you could have for it.”

“Well, maybe I was.”

“Has someone threatened you?”

You scoffed. Gave her a look as if to say the joke wasn’t good. She narrowed her eyes uncomprehendingly.  

“Um, let’s see.” You folded your arms as you pretended to think. The statuette dug in your chest. “Maybe I’ve gone just a little bit too far with someone who’s quite obsessed with hierarchy.”

A small, incredulous laugh escaped her.

“You thought I was going to –“She didn’t finish her sentence, her laugh lingering on her lips as the incredulity reached her eyes.    

“Well,” you retorted, leaning your hip against the doorframe, “you did have those two Greys shot the other day for making love.” You raised your eyebrows at her. “For breaking one of your rules. So excuse me if I’m not feeling particularly safe right now.”

The smile vanished from her face. She closed her mouth, stared at you. Your eyes shifted to her lips. Back up to her eyes. You licked your lips.

“I wouldn’t have you killed merely for being stupid,” she said after a short moment.

How were her cheekbones so sharp? Her eyes so dark? You swore whomever had made her was the most talented artist and the cruelest asshole in the whole goddamn universe. How many years it must have taken, how much sweat, how many skills, how much patience and love, to make her.

You cleared your throat. What had she just said? Called you stupid. Wouldn’t have you killed. Something like that. You couldn’t remember.

“My light wasn’t on,” you said mechanically, “so why did you stop at my door?”

If the question surprised or unsettled her, she didn’t show it.

“I thought it was on,” she answered without missing a beat. She paused. “You thought I was going to have you killed?”

“Um, maybe.”

Her eyes fell on the statuette again. When they met yours, you swore you saw something like sadness deep into the black. She blinked, and the sadness disappeared.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “You should go to bed.”

You realized you didn’t want her to go. What if you invited her to come in? What if you told her about your insomnia, and asked her to help you while the night away? Merely have a talk with her. Merely sit by her side, and watch her, and share secrets with her. Show her you weren’t as stupid as she must think you were. You could light dozens of candles and watch the light dance on her face. Have her relax, make her laugh. And maybe if things went well, at the break of dawn you could lay your head on her lap, and certainly then sleep would find you.

You assumed a nonchalant expression. “Well then, goodnight to you,” you said with a smile that hurt your mouth.

She nodded, turned and walked off.

You listened to her footsteps fade away. You let out a long, shaky breath, and closed your door.

For a very long time you stayed with your back against the door, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. The sadness you had seen in Venable’s eyes haunted you. You tried to think of something else. What you would do tomorrow. Boring. That summer holiday you had spent in Spain with your best-friend. Venable’s hair in the flickering light of the candles. Venable’s face. Venable’s eyes. How you absolutely adored the fact that she could stand up to anyone. Venable’s eyes. The sadness in her eyes.

You groaned. You had half a mind to bang your head on the door to knock yourself out and finally get some sleep. Perhaps you could go to Venable’s room and apologise. Tell her you hadn’t meant to question her authority. You’d like to see her again.

It was a stupid idea. Lack of sleep made you so, so stupid. She would be angry, would order you out, slam her door in your face, maybe hit you with her cane. You shouldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You tip-toed down the corridor till you reached her door. It was slightly ajar, which surprised you. Heart beating fast, you opened it just enough to peek into the room.

Venable was sitting on the floor by the dark fireplace, her head bent, her hands joined on her lap. What was she doing on the floor? Surely the position couldn’t be good for her back. Then you noticed that her lips were moving, forming silent words, as if she were praying. Her eyes were closed.

The flickering light from the candles threw shadows on her face. Patches of black and red and orange vacillating and oscillating. Touching her face, fleeing to the walls. You watched her in silence, at a loss for what to do or what to think. You heard her sniffle, saw her raise a hand to wipe her cheek.

There was something so fragile about the scene in front of you. To see this woman who was always so proud, and so strong, and so dominating, murmuring silent words to herself on the floor in the dead of night. Or maybe those words weren’t for herself. Maybe they were addressed to someone else, whoever would listen, whoever would take the time to stop and lend an ear. Was she asking for strength? For mercy? Salvation? Her back was leaning slightly forward just like the backs of worshippers you had seen in churches.

Her lips stopped moving for a moment. She opened her eyes to stare unseeingly at the wall in front of her. You saw her bite her lower lip, saw her take a shaky breath. The silent murmuring started again.

You scratched your arm nervously. You knew you should leave, and erase from your mind this private moment you had no right to witness. Part of you felt like a thief. But your legs seemed to be frozen. You could not move them.

So you watched her. At one point she coughed softly, and the next two words came out loud enough for you to hear them: “Let me...”

Was she praying? You didn’t think she was a religious person. Why should she be? She had helped bring on the Apocalypse and had not received so much as a word of complaint from God. You squinted at her in the dim light, your body instinctively leaning towards her, your hands coming up to grip at the doorframe. Your heart was pushing against your ribs as if it wished to burst free from your chest and wrap around her.

Venable paused, sighed, went on murmuring. Once again her words reached you. “…soothe and let it save me so she can think it acceptable to love me.”

Your clammy palm slipped on the doorframe, unbalancing you. You gasped in a breath. Venable’s head jerked to the side. Her eyes locked with yours.

You could have screamed. Surprise then anger then fear flashed across Venable’s face as you took a step back, your mouth opening and closing like a fish as you tried to find something to say but couldn’t come up with anything. For a moment there was only silence, and you and she holding each other’s gaze.

Venable’s face closed up. She stood up, supporting herself on her cane, so calm, so composed. It was impressive, the tight grip she kept on her emotions. Always so perfectly in control of herself.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a firm voice.  

“I –“you stuttered, “I – I’m sorry, I just – I, uh, saw your light was on.”

That was a risky answer, and you knew it. But today had been crazy, and any minute now Venable would unleash her wrath and it would destroy you. You had nothing left to lose. So you held her gaze, her inscrutable, unreadable gaze, admiring even now the flickers of candlelight that danced across the black.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you heard yourself say, your voice coming from far, far away. “I’ve not been able to sleep for quite a while. So I roam the corridors to try and distract myself, and I saw your light was on.” A pause. “What were you doing?”

Venable’s expression didn’t change. She took her time to answer, and you waited, waited for the inevitable anger, the inevitable punishment. You felt too distanced from yourself to be afraid.

“That is none of your business,” Venable said eventually. She turned away from you. “Go back to your room.”

That brought you back to yourself. Your soul crashed back into your body.

“Is that all?” you blurted out. “Go back to my room? Aren’t you going to, like,…” You didn’t finish your sentence, but she must have understood, because she turned to face you and shot you a somewhat outraged look.

“You seem so very certain I mean to hurt you,” she said sharply.

“Er, well.” You folded your arms on your chest and looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think. “In the last few hours I disrespected you and burst into your privacy. And, no offence, but you don’t strike me as a kitten kind of person.”

“Kitten?” she repeated.

“Yeah, you know.” You brought a nervous hand up to scratch your head. “Fluffy and cute, cuddly and helpless.”

She stared at you as if you were stupid. “Kittens scratch you for no reason.”

“Yeah, but...”You shook your head at yourself.”Never mind, don’t mind me. I’m too exhausted to think straight.”

Long seconds passed. None of you moved. You both held your ground, staring at each other. Waiting.

Your mouth opened again. “I don’t know whether I should run away from you or towards you.”  

She didn’t react. Didn’t answer. She kept staring at you.

“I can’t sleep,” you repeated. “May I stay here and sleep with you?”

Her expression did shatter at that. She blinked in surprise, then in consternation.

“Uh, I mean, not like that,” you stammered. “I mean sleep as in actually sleep. Uh, get some shuteye.”

Venable let out another one of her small, incredulous laughs. “No, you may not,” she answered sharply.

“Right, of course. Stupid me.” You tried to laugh, ended up choking on your own spit.”Sorry. Uh, forget about all this.” You quickly turned to go.

“You need to get a grip on yourself,” came Venable’s voice. You stopped.

“Gosh, I know,” you breathed.”I’m sorry.” You waited. No reply came, so you started to walk away.

“I may have a few sleeping pills, if you think they can help,” Venable called after you.

You turned on your heel and rushed back into her room. “Yes, please, I’d be very grateful. Thank you.”

Venable nodded, walked into the ensuite bathroom. You heard the sound of a drawer opening, some fumbling, and then she was back into the room holding a small pill box.

She dropped one pill in your extended hand. “Try this tonight. I can give you more tomorrow if it works.”

“Thank you,” you breathed. Your fingers curled around the pill as her eyes bore into yours. You almost reached out to touch her cheek. Almost.

But then your breath hitched. For that was it, wasn’t it? Her punishment. Her revenge. You glanced down at the pill in your hand. Poison. It had to be.

You glanced back up at her, and your thoughts must have shown on your face, for her eyes momentarily glazed over with the same sadness as before.  

“This is hydroxyzine,” she snapped.

“Right,” you mumbled. “Thanks.”

“Do you think some of my rules are too harsh?” she asked suddenly.

You blinked at her. “Well, I mean…” You paused a second, considering. You chose honesty.” Most of them are useful, I’ll give you that. But, Ms Venable, the copulation rule? People being shot for, what, loving each other? Finding comfort in each other?” You took one step towards her, growing irritated. “Those two Greys didn’t deserve death. They did nothing wrong. And what’s so bad about copulation, anyway? What’s so wrong with affection? Intimacy?”

You paused, waiting for her answer. Her eyes were very big and shining in the candlelight. They were different, now. It was that sadness again. She looked almost sad.

“Tell me, what’s wrong with this?” You reached out and laid the pad of your index on her right wrist. She tensed up, her hand tightening around the knob of her cane. Her eyes grew bigger still.

You swallowed, refusing to lower your gaze, as you slowly ran your finger down her hand, circled one of her knuckles, moved to the next. You could feel her shaking under your touch, her skin soft and hot.  

“This never hurt anyone,” you said softly. Her brow tightened, just so. She made as if to withdraw her hand from your touch. Your finger stuttered, your eyes questioning hers. Well, maybe affection had hurt her. Undoubtedly it had. You could read it in her eyes.  

You removed your hand, but she captured it in hers and brought it up close to her mouth.

“We cannot possibly take the risk of having to deal with a herd of babies, can we, Y/N?” she said very slowly. Her breath grazed your knuckles and sent a shiver down your spine. Her grip on your hand was strong.

“We can’t, Wilhemina,” you heard yourself say.

Wilhemina. How did you remember her Christian name? She had told it to you exactly once, on the day of your arrival at the Outpost. Months ago. And it wasn’t a very common name.

“But then again, Wilhemina,” you went on, “you and I would never have this problem.”

Venable brought your hand up to her mouth, her gaze burning into yours, and sank her teeth into your skin.

“Ow!” you yapped. “What the…”

She tightened her grip on your hand to hold it back. A smirk crept up her lips.

“Bite me,” she said, her mouth hot and damp against your skin. “That’s what you said. So, here.” She did let go of your hand, then. You held it protectively to your chest, smoothing it over your shirt. “Happy to oblige.” She turned away from you.

You watched her in consternation as she bent over her bed, apparently rearranging the pillows. Her teeth had left a row of white marks on your hand. A moment passed, until she straightened up and met your eyes.

“Well, goodnight,” she said, almost teasingly. And with that she sent you off.

**

“You’re still alive,” Coco said in surprise the morning after.

“You’re very observant,” you mumbled, slumping onto the chair next to her. You still felt a bit woolly because of the hydroxyzine. But at least you had slept.

“You’ve been observing our Earth”, sang the female voice from the radio.

“This song will drive me crazy,” you groaned. “Can’t we turn it off?”

“And we’d like to make a contact with you,” the voice retorted.

You straightened your shoulders as Venable walked into the room. Her gaze immediately fell on you. You held it, not sure what to think of the night before, her helping you, her biting you for God’s sake – mechanically you massaged the back of your hand where her teeth had sunk. And those words you had overhead. They had been addressed to someone else, but you couldn’t help but hope she had been talking about you.

You thought you saw something in her eyes, eagerness perhaps, as she walked towards you. She stopped in front of you and tapped her cane on the floor.

“Good-morning,” she said. You gave her a smile in answer, then lowered your eyes to study your nails. You could feel her gaze on your face.

“How did you sleep?” she went on in a casual voice that sounded just a tiny bit strained, as if she were uncomfortable or nervous.

You squinted at her, fighting back an amused smile. “I slept well, thank you.”

You were vaguely aware of the hush that had fallen upon the room. There was more to it, too, some sort of tension, expectant and apprehensive, a holding of one’s breath as one waits for something the nature of which one isn’t really certain of.

“We’ve been observing your Earth, and one night we’ll make a contact with you,” the robotic, distorted alien voice burst out.

“Good,” Venable answered. “I am glad to hear that.”

A pause. The pause stretched.

“Maybe now some of my brain cells will finally kick back into life, “you prompted.

Venable blinked. “We can only hope so,” she answered after a while.

The smile you had been holding back danced across your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Coco shoot you a perplexed look, saw her contort her face as if to ask, “what the hell is happening?”

Venable’s cane tapped on the floor. “Everyone, please,” she called, “I have an announcement to make. Some good news for you all.”

Excited whispers filled the room. You straightened in your seat. Venable waited until she had everyone’s attention, and then spoke with pride in her voice. “To renew with tradition and entertain you, we will now have board games nights. Whist, backgammon, chess.”

Was she… actually trying to be nice? Giving you all something to look forward to? A bit of fun, to help pass the time? You almost gawked at her.

She’s trying, a voice whispered in your head. What was it she had said? Make it acceptable to love her. You were vaguely aware of the tears that sprang to your eyes.

“Excuse me,” Coco blurted out, “I thought you’d said ‘good news’, not ‘you’re now officially living in a shitty Jane Austen novel’.”

Venable glared at her. You caught just a flash of pain in her eyes.  

“I think it’s a good idea,” you retorted before Venable had time to. “It’ll keep our minds distracted.”

“I don’t even know what whist and backgammon are,” said Andre. “And I’ve never played chess.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Venable sneered. “It will be the perfect opportunity to inject some knowledge into your vacuous brain.”

“Not as vacuous as that,” Andre retorted angrily, “seeing as you filled it with my boyfriend’s own brain.”

You had never seen Andre stand up to Venable before. Like the others, he had been too scared of her to dare contradict her. But now his voice was openly belligerent, his eyes shooting daggers at her, and his hands gripped the arms of his chair as if he were contemplating standing up. Something had changed, and it didn’t take you long to realize you were the cause. Or rather, Venable’s behavior to you. You had been insolent to her, and she had not punished you. She had not even verbally abused you.  

“What will it take,” Venable enunciated, “for you to finally understand me when I say that I did not feed you Stu?”

“Then where is he?” Andre growled, jumping to his feet, “And what was in the fucking stew?”

“Alright, okay, calm down,” you spoke, rising too, and holding out a hand in front of Andre. “I’ll teach you chess, okay? I know chess, I can teach you. Just, relax, man. Gosh.”

Andre glared at you. You raised your eyebrows at him. For a minute he stayed still, hands clenched into fists, and then he let out a breath and moved back to his chair.  

Coco threw her hands up in the air. “Board games nights it is,” she said sarcastically.

You turned to Venable. She was studying you, her expression strange, as if she could not quite decide between anger and gratefulness.

“Miss Y/L/N,” she said, her eyes locked with yours, “I do not need your help when it comes to dealing with idiots.”

You took your time to answer, to think of the right words to say. A smile crept up your lips again, and this time you let it.              

And you knew everyone in the room would be able to hear you. But you didn’t care. Blame it on the hydroxyzine. Blame it on the freaking interplanetary and most extraordinary occupants. The world had ended. You were exhausted. And you were falling for her.

When you spoke, your voice was a singsong, as insolent as it had been the evening before. “Why, fuck me, Ms Venable. I know that.”

[inarizakibabe]

Beginning

After weeks of testing and studying hard you finally made it into class four. Now time to make friends with your classmates and shoot up the ranks into popularity. Swallowing your nervousness you approached a group of people to introduce yourself.

"Good morning. I'm (l/n)(f/n) it's nice to meet you all." you gave them the biggest smile you could muster.

The group acknowledged your presence then continued their previous conversation ignoring you. After a few minutes you decided they'd be a lost cause and moved onto a different group. After successfully managing to make no friends you cut your losses and took a seat.

"Well that went well." a voice beside you said.

"Oh shut up. I don't see you trying to make friends." you replied irritated.

"Nah too much work. I have a team full of people to tolerate already."

"Wait why are you even here?" you asked the boy beside you.

"Rude. This is my class if you must know." he said annoyed.

"Hold on. You? Suna Rintaro? Class four? Is the world ending?" you asked apprehensively.

Suna grunted and ignored you. Slowly a smirk formed on your face, "Your mom threatened to come see you again didn't she?"

"You're in my business princess. Don't do that." Suna booped your nose.

You stuck your tongue out at him right as the teacher walked in to start homeroom.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Half the day and three periods later it was that weird period right before lunch and Suna's attention span couldn't keep up any longer. At this point you were taking notes for Suna to steal later when he could be bothered to write them down. The clock on the wall showed there were five minutes left until lunch so you decided to zone out.

Your thoughts ranged from getting homework on the first day of school to what you might be having for dinner tonight. Eventually they strayed to the boy napping beside you. You two had been friends for a long time. You met your second year of elementary school when Suna thought it would be funny to see how hard he could tug on your pigtail. After filling his shoes with sand you two became inseparable. Years later in your last year of junior high Suna was scouted by the coach of the Inarizaki High volleyball boys club in Hyogo. It was a great opportunity for him but it meant you guys would be separated. Unfortunately the club you joined didn't have a way for you to be recruited and even though your grades were good they weren't good enough for your parents to pack up and move all the way to Hyogo.

For your entire last year of junior high you mentally prepared to say goodbye to Suna until your mom's job decided to transfer her to Hyogo. Eventually your family moved to Hyogo, with a promise to the Sunas to take care of their eldest son, and thus your high school story began only it's not going the way you hoped. Suna was still your only friend and it seemed all your classmates knew each other since junior high leaving no room for you to shoot through the ranks. The bell rang interrupting your thoughts and your teacher dismissed your class to lunch.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After a boring lunch period your next class felt like it dragged on. So far your dream to take over high school seemed more and more impossible to achieve. Maybe if you joined the right club some magic might just happen. The big question now was which club would you join. You were a woman of many talents but none great enough to make you the star of a club. Cooking club would give you the chance to perfect your recipes but cooking wasn't something you enjoyed to do. Maybe one of the sports clubs? Definitely not. Was there anything else to do?

Before long the school day ended and it was time to either head to your club's first meeting or go home. You turned to ask Suna if he wanted to stop at the convenience store before going home until you saw him loosening his tie. Right the volleyball club had its first meeting today so you'd have to go home alone today.

"Don't look so disappointed. I'll save all my homework for you to do." Suna said looking at you.

"Whatever Rintaro! What do I have to be disappointed about?!" you huffed and picked up your bag to leave.

"Don't get lost on the way home." Suna chuckled and watched you leave before leaving for the gym.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Stupid Rin. I got lost one time. And what the hell would I be disappointed about? If anything he should be disappointed he won't have company to walk home with later today. I should go to bed before he gets home too." You grumbled while trying to find the school's gate. "Maybe it's in the other direction. Man this school is huge."

Up ahead you saw a guy with brown hair going in the opposite direction. Maybe he knows the way out of this school.

"Excuse me? Do you know which way the gate is?"

The boy stopped and at looked at you funny. "Keep going straight and you'll see it."

"Thank you." you bowed and continued going in the direction he told you. After taking ten steps you stopped and gaped at who was in front of you. The exact same guy was walking towards you again. You looked behind you quickly but the guy from before had disappeared already. Was it a daydream or did you finally lose it?

"Something wrong?" The guy stopped in front of you. "Are you lost or something?"

"I'm sorry but didn't you just tell me how to find the gate less than a minute ago?" you asked.

The guy in front of you looked confused until a look of understanding crossed his face. "I doubt it was me but keep going straight and you'll find the gate."

You thanked the guy once again at least you think it's the second time and finally made it to the gate to leave for the day.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* The next day in class you remembered the run in you had after school the previous day and turned to ask Suna about it.

"Hey Rin this may sound crazy but I got directions from the guy twice yesterday."

Suna pouted trying to figure out what you were talking about. "You asked the guy to repeat himself?"

"No he helped me then I walked away and all of a sudden he was in front of me again and gave me directions again." you explained.

"So he chased you? Wow the year just began and you already got a guy to fall for you. Nice work (y/n)-chan. What do you plan to do with this new found information?" Suna asked with amusement in his voice.

"You are the worst human to walk this planet I swear. I'm serious. Maybe I accidentally walked in on someone's prank or something. I hope it wasn't recorded." you huffed.

Suna shrugged and checked his phone for new notifications, "Who knows. Maybe that was your ticket to popularity you were looking for. Did you pick a club yet or are you gonna let our homeroom teacher do that?"

"I don't wanna think about clubs right now. I can't think of one I wanna join. Help me find one. Please?" you put on your best puppy eyes and begged. Maybe for once he'll take mercy on you.

"Why should I? Just join the music club. You did it in Jr. high. I'm sure you can survive three more years." Suna said not looking at you.

"I would prefer if I didn't have to go through all of that again. I expected music club to be about music not how much spit I could clean out of a tuba." you shuddered remembering the unspeakable things you went through in music club.

"Don't do this to me (n/n). The stories were the highlight of my day. You gotta do it again for the fate of mankind." Suna gave you the saddest look he could produce before he laughed at how ridiculous he thought he looked. "Anime joke. I don't know what to tell you princess. I haven't picked a club since we left elementary. Why don't you see if one of the sports clubs needs a manager."

"Rin you're a genius! Does the volleyball club need a manger? I promise I won't screw up."

Suna stared at you with a deadpan expression and sighed. "Remember when I went to visit family one summer break and asked you to watch Bubbles? I came back and we all attended a fishy funeral that same day. Or when I asked you to pick up Asami because I couldn't and I came home to my parents yelling at me because she called them crying cause nii-san forgot her? I could go on but I think you get the picture. I don't trust your promises anymore."

"Yeah but Bubbles was a special case. Who knew he'd eat until he burst if I put all the food in the tank? He was suppose to eat it little by little. And I apologized to you and your that entire year and you guys forgave me. Bottom line is I was young and dumb, now I'm a high school student and I've learned a lot in my fifteen years of life. Just talk to the coach and see what he says. I could probably really help you guys."

Suna sighed for the umpteenth time and ran a hand through his bangs. "It's not really the coaches I'm worried about. I met some of our upperclassmen and some of the third years are kinda intense."

You frowned at his tone and tried to think of what they could've done to him. "i'm sure they're not as bad as you're making them sound. Maybe you need to look at them from a different angle."

"I doubt it. There were two first years that made me question my sanity. If they weren't fighting they played really well together. There was one other first year that could already do jump serves. The entire team is pretty good. Looks like it's gonna be an interesting year for volleyball. I hope I get to play in some official matches." As the last sentence left his lips Suna's eyes widened and he turned to look at you so quickly you almost thought he'd get whiplash. "You didn't hear that."

"Oh that's what the problem is. I'm sure you'll get to play in some matches and if you don't then there's no way the team is going to nationals." you smiled at him.

Before Suna could respond the bell rang signaling lunch was finished.

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At the end of the day you followed Suna to the gym.

"Remember it's not a guarantee. We don't have a manager and Coach Oomi does what you would do." Suna reminded you when you were almost at the gym. "Talk to coach Kurosu he's the head coach and old enough to be our father so if you ware him down enough you might just get the position."

"Alright. I can definitely do this." You sounded more confident than you felt but there was no turning back now.

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Hello sorry it took so long for this part to be uploaded but it's here now. Hopefully you enjoyed this and the next chapter comes out sooner than this one did. Until then don't hesitate to let me know what you think or if you just wanna say hi I don't bite I promise.